Chapter 7 – Sons and Fathers
Voldemort waited patiently for his servant to bring some news about both raids. The woman Bones and her niece shouldn't be a problem, but Azkaban might be a challenge, after all he might have allied himself with the Dementors, but his control of them was slim at best. If things went wrong, there wasn't a thing that anyone could do to block their turning against the Death Eaters.
One of his answers came in a surprising form, when a dirty, malnourished and dressed in rags man approached him. He might have stayed in Azkaban for some time, but nothing could curb the posture of Lucius Malfoy, which stood proud in front of his Dark Lord.
"Lucius, this proves that things went as planned at Azkaban," Voldemort said, standing from his throne.
"I believe it went better than expected, My Lord," Malfoy said, bowing to the hooded man. "We have liberated some other prisoners, who agreed to join forces with us."
"Good, good. Now, go ahead and clean yourself, then bring your son to me. I have a mission I wish him to fulfill," Voldemort ordered, and Lucius Malfoy bowed again.
"It will be as you command, My Lord," he answered, and walked out of the room.
"Send Wormtail in as well," he said, to a retreating back.
A few moments later, Peter Pettigrew walked in, cowering in fear. Voldemort noticed, and before the animagus could utter a single word, the wand snapped in place and the Dark Lord yelled.
"CRUCIO!"
Wormtail screamed with the Unforgivable, and Voldemort kept the spell going for a while.
"You failed, your incompetent fool. Can you give me a good reason why ten of our best men couldn't kill a single woman?"
"I-it was t-the n-niece, My Lord. S-she managed to kill the element of surprise, and they managed to run. Their house is no more, though, Master."
"House, house! I don't care about any bloody house! Crucio!"
The spell hit the man again, and he screamed.
"So, a simple Hogwarts student thwarts my plan. Why, you useless worm?"
"Potter trained her," came a third voice from the entrance. Voldemort whipped his head in the direction of the intruder, an incantation ready to leave his lips.
"What do you know about it, Severus?" he asked, approaching Hogwart's Potion Master.
"Last year that idiot Fudge put his undersecretary, a woman by the name of Umbridge, as a scapegoat to discredit Mr. Potter. She was put as Hogwarts' Defense professor, and seeing her incompetence plus the fear of your return made Mr. Potter create a 'Defense Association', to train selected students in the Arts. Susan Bones was one of those students," Severus Snape revealed, his cape swishing behind his back as he entered Voldemort's inner chamber.
Voldemort hissed his disgust. "Leave me, I'll deal with this mess myself."
"You're going after Potter?" Snape asked, curious.
The Dark Lord snapped his wand in the professor's direction. "What I do or do not is my own business. Control your tongue or you might see if you function without it," the thing that used to be Tom Riddle said.
"Forgive my assumptions, Master. I shall take my leave," Snape said, and departed.
"As for you, Wormtail, see that the men who failed paid the price of their failure."
"It shall be done, Lord Voldemort," Pettigrew said, and scurried out of the chamber.
"As for Mr. Potter, let's see how he handles a little pain," Voldemort spoke to himself, and swam deeper in the connection between them.
Harry's wails of pain woke up the entire house plus the direct neighbors at their sides. Venon entered the room, decided to punch the boy so he could have a little peace, but was too scared against the consequences. Dudley was the one who surprisingly took some action.
"Mum! Bring some ice, a towel and whatever painkiller we have at home! Run!" he said, approaching Harry without seeing if his mother had moved. He sat on the ground right at Harry's head, and before he could take an action, he noted the frantic-looking Hedwig. Standing up, he picked a piece of parchment and scribbled a quick note on it.
"Take this to whoever can help him. Hurry!" he said, tying the note to the owl's leg. He opened the window and the owl took flight immediately.
He sat on the ground again and his mother arrived with what he had ordered, leaving all the items near Dudley.
"Harry! Harry! Can you take some painkillers?" Dudley asked, and Harry's only answer was another scream of pain. The fat boy opened a bottle and took four pills from the inside. "Harry, if you can understand me, open your mouth!" he said, frantically.
Harry was lost in a sea of unbelievable pain, it was effectively worse than a crucio spell, it seemed as if his head was ready to explode and implode at the same time, plus all of his nerve endings were into a serious pain overdrive. He tried to fight and erect his barriers, but the pain was making any effort a failure, even before it began, and somehow the feedback was keeping him conscious during the entire ordeal.
"Ah, bugger! Sorry, Harry, you'll hate me a little more after that, and I'll probably be killed by whomever appears to deal with you," Dudley said, discarding the pills. He closed his ham-sized fist and let it fly, hitting Harry perfectly in the chin.
Harry crumbled to the ground, finally unconscious.
Voldemort lost the connection, someone had finally managed to deal with Potter. No matter, he could still do the same later, whenever the boy was unprotected.
Dudley grabbed his unconscious cousin from the ground, under the withering glare of his parents, and deposited him in his bed. He then proceeded to apply the ice on the bruise forming at his chin.
"Why are you helping him, son?" Vernon asked, annoyed.
Harry's cousin thought about giving his father a real answer, but he had to tend for Harry first.
"Because in like four minutes, one of his friends is going to come crashing down the front door, and I wouldn't like to explain why he's on the ground with a bloody bruise on his chin," he replied.
Dudley was just a little wrong on his timing. Two and a half minutes later, someone was blowing the door away with a spell. Petunia went down to deal with the commotion.
"Where is he?" asked a frantic Imogen, being followed immediately behind by Mac.
"Upstairs," Petunia answered, part scared, part irritated about being left without a front door, again.
Imogen ran upstairs to find Harry being treated with a towel filled with something being applied to his face.
"What happened?" Imogen asked, looking to a puce-colored Vernon and a worried Dudley.
"H-he was s-screaming," Dudley said, looking between Harry and the lawyer, "in pain, like someone was hurting him pretty badly, I tried to make him take some painkillers, he was hurting so much that he didn't listen, I guess. I-I knocked him out a-and he finally went limp."
Imogen deflated slightly, and looked to Mac, who was giving Vernon the evil eye. "Voldemort?"
"I guess so, Harry's shields are shot to shit, pardon the French, and I wouldn't put it past him to inflict some pain on the kid," Mac said, approaching the bed and the unconscious wizard. "You did well, Dudley. If Voldemort kept the pain going, Harry could end up with some severe brain problems. Knocking him out was the right thing to do," she said, and smiled at him.
The youngest Dursley smiled as well and relaxed. Imogen looked to Vernon. "I know our presence is probably irking you severely, and I couldn't care less. You may go, we'll deal with the problem ourselves," the lawyer said, making shooing motions while at it. Vernon went out of the room, grumbling under his breath.
Dudley kept the towel with ice on his cousin's face and stood up to leave. "I guess I shall be going as well . . ." he said. Mac put her hand on his, making him stop.
"Don't go, we're not pissed with you, and you really did the right thing with what you had in hands at the moment," the occlumens said.
"What you will do now?" he asked to them both.
"He'll be back in a bit, and I think I can make a patch up job on his shields so he can hold the night, tomorrow we'll start an intensive course on Magical Mind Shields 101," Mac said, trying to alleviate the tension. "I think I'll stay the night so if Voldemort attacks again, he'll have a fighting chance."
"I'll stay as well," Imogen said. Mac looked to the room, it barely had space for them to stay standing up, lying down to sleep was impossible, unless Harry wanted to stay really happy with two women in bed with him with no space to breathe.
"Someone's gonna be quite roomy. Not that I mind, thou," Mac said, leering Immie, but with a wicked grin in face.
"Get your mind out of the gutter, Mac," Imogen said, annoyed.
"Hey, sorry, just trying to relieve the tension," Mac replied, pouting. Imogen looked to her, sheepishly.
"Sorry, I overreacted. It's just that I hate to feel so impotent," the attractive lawyer said.
"I know the feeling," came the surprising reply from Dudley.
They both looked to the teenager, who kept putting the ice on the swell in Harry's jaw.
"And I think I can help somehow with the sleeping arrangements, my room is right next door, and I can sleep in the guest room for the night. One of you ladies could stay here and the other in my bed."
"Thanks, Mr. Dursley. We could expand the room, but I don't know what should be the effects on the wards around the house. It is too bad that Voldemort can still attack Harry's mind, I wouldn't like to destroy a ward unintentionally and end up with fifteen Death Eaters to annoy my beauty sleep," Imogen said, a slight smile back on her face.
"I believe then, Ms. Cheatam, that I can be of assistance," said a new voice just arriving at the door.
Draco Malfoy was hunkered over another of his family's journals, this one from his great-grandfather Ananias, and from what he had read so far, the man was a powerful and strong individual, as were all the Malfoys, but a passage almost at the end of the diary was intriguing the youngest Malfoy. He re-read it for the tenth time, trying to figure it out.
". . . I've learned since early on that a Malfoy shouldn't be ashamed of his own acts, that we are a powerful and proud family of purebloods, which can be traced back to the time of the Founders of Hogwarts. But how can I not be ashamed of what I did? There are limits a man must set unto himself, and those limits must not be broken for no reason. That, I believe is the true meaning of Honor, and that is how a man is able to look at his own reflection in the mirror and be proud of what he sees. And yet, I broke my own limits, and for that I know I will die in shame, even if no one knows about it. No one needs to, after all the shame falls all upon my shoulders.
Just bear in mind, my descendant, since every Malfoy was taught from early to learn from his ancestors, there are things that you should and shouldn't do that will have no greatest repercussion than into your own soul. So then beware, and learn from this old man who nowadays only rambles in these yellowed pages that there is no greater shame than that we place on ourselves."
Draco stood up, his back was starting to kill him after so many hours of reading. After his Father was arrested, he decided to read all that he could about the Malfoys, first to learn how to deal with being head of the family while his father was away, and later to learn what made a Malfoy be a Malfoy.
A house elf popped up near him, the scared creature looking to the ground the entire time.
"Master Draco, Fiz is come to call young Master, Master Malfoy wants to see young Master," the elf said, trembling.
"Master Malfoy? Father? Where is he?" Draco asked, surprise etched in his face.
"Master Malfoy is at Master's room, Master Draco," the elf said.
Draco bolted out of the library, a smile in his face, and he ran the entire length of the Manor. He stopped right in front of the master bedroom and opened the door, still smiling.
Finishing the touches on his clothes in front of the mirror stood his father, Lucius Malfoy.
"Fa. . ." he started, but before he could finish, he was hit point blank.
"Crucio," the older Malfoy said, anger clearly reflected in his face. After a few moments of the Unforgivable, Lucius lifted his wand, ending the curse for the moment. "You failed me, Draco."
"Why, Father?" Draco asked, still in so much pain.
"You should have done something to take me out of Azkaban, your worthless idiot. Now, I have my position weakened in front of our Lord, he had to take me out of that hole, all because my own son is too weak to act."
"B-but F-father . . ." Draco said, still on his knees, trying to understand.
Lucius hit Draco forcefully on the chin with the tip of his cane, a welt forming in seconds. Draco spun around, tears threatening to fall.
"Your luck is that our Master wishes to see us, and we shouldn't keep him waiting. Change into something appropriate and return here," Lucius said, and walked to the adjoining study room without waiting for an answer.
"Y-yes, Father," Draco said to a closed door.
"Headmaster," Imogen said, the imposing figure of Albus Dumbledore filling the entrance to the room. "What are you doing here?"
"As you are aware now, Imogen, young Harry has a few people who watch over him. When both of you appeared and started banging at the door, the watcher currently stationed outside decided to call me, so here am I. What happened to him?" Dumbledore asked, eyeing a still unconscious Harry.
"Voldemort decided to attack him using their connection, Dud here did the right thing an knocked him out before the old fart cooked his brains from inside," Mac said, now sitting at the head of the bed with Harry's head on her lap.
"Colorful description, young lady. And you are?" Dumbledore asked, eyes twinkling madly.
"A friend of Harry's, with better shields than you, Albie. So knock it off, old man, I don't like uninvited guests," Mac replied, and using her mastery of occlumency, kicked Albus off her mind, none too gently.
"Sorry about that, it won't be repeated," Dumbledore said, with his most kindly smile present. "It's just that I have a special interest in Harry's well being."
"Yeah, right," she snorted.
"What do you want, Albus?" Imogen asked, incensed.
"To see if Harry was okay, but since you are here, I believe that my presence is redundant. However, let me make your night more comfortable," he said, and waved his wand. In moments, the walls grew to the side, expanding the room to triple the size it had previously. And out of thin air, another bed appeared, an exact copy of the one Harry was currently lying in. Almost as an afterthought, Dumbledore removed a small flask from the insides of his robes and handed it to Imogen. "I believe this will make Harry's night more bearable. It is a dreamless sleep potion, plus a bit of a muscle relaxant. I'd like to stay and chat a bit more, but I do have to take my leave, apparently what Harry felt was some sort of repercussion for tonight's events," the Headmaster said.
"What happened?" Mac asked, curious.
"The head of Magical Law Enforcement was attacked at her own home. She was hurt but right now she's out of danger. And Azkaban was emptied as well," he said.
Imogen shook her head. "Stupid Fudge," she said, disgust evident in her voice.
"Unfortunately, I must agree, Ms. Cheatam, however, right now, there is nothing we can do to rectify the situation," Dumbledore said.
"That's bull, Dumbledore, and you know it," she said, "being the head of the Wizengamot and quite friendly with Amelia Bones, all you would have to do is put some of your fabled powers of persuasion to work and we would have a competent Minister to deal with this mess faster than Voldemort could spell his name. Voldemort has fought from the shadows long enough, and right now he's going public. It's time for the people fighting this war to come forward as well."
"Things are more complicated than that, Imogen, and I shall explain my reasoning for you once we meet in private. I believe our reunion is still on?"
"I'll be there, Headmaster, we do have a lot to discuss," the lawyer said evenly.
"Then I shall take my leave. Imogen, lady, Mr. Dursley," Dumbledore said, and left with a swish of his robes. He stopped for a moment. "Ah, next time, I do believe that using the door bell is more practical than blowing the front door," he smirked, and finally left.
"Smartass," Mac commented, surprising both Dudley and Imogen.
"Uunngh," Harry groaned and immediately felt disconnected, the same sensation he had when going immersed in a pensieve.
"Where am I?" he inquired, noticing the grayish look of the place around him. He patted himself for his wand but couldn't find it anywhere.
"Don't worry, you're safe, Harry," came the voice and figure of Mac, appearing from apparently nowhere.
"Where are we?" he asked, relaxing slightly.
"This, Harry, is the Point of Contact, the place where my mind touches yours and yet is neither. We occlumens use it when we want to chat without invading each other's mind."
"What happened? Why we are here?" the yong wizard asked.
Mac's face grew worried. "Voldemort attacked you earlier tonight, you were in a lot of pain. Lucky you, you were talking with Immie when it happened, so she called me and we came as quickly as we could. One other good thing, your cousin was nearby and he . . . helped you," she said sheepishly.
"Helped me? How, I mean he's not a wizard, what did he do?"
"He knocked you out. You do have a nice bruise forming around here," Mac said, pointing to her own jaw.
"Oh," Harry said, reflexively massaging the bruised area. "I suppose that's good, right?"
"It is, otherwise the old piece of shit might have fried your noggin'."
"First time I'll thank Dudders for hitting me," Harry mumbled. "So, why we are here?" he asked, eyeing the gray formless environment.
"Well, since I believe you aren't in the mood to end your vacation without a brain, I've decided to give you a crash course in occlumency," Mac said with a smile and immediately afterwards she lost the smile, going serious. "However, to do that I'll have to enter your mind several times. It will be painful a few times, but nothing extreme as that bastard did, and it will be tiresome. I'll be compressing a few months of training in a few weeks. Besides, I have to take us out of here for a few minutes, I have to take an oath and I can't do that here."
"An oath? What for?" Harry asked, curious.
"Do you remember that we have a set of rules to follow?" To Harry's nod, she continued. "Legilimiency is the deepest form of invasion of privacy that exists, I'll see all of your memories, without restriction. So I do have to take a Wizard's Oath that I won't reveal anything that I see unless you do authorize me or release me of the oath."
"It makes sense," Harry said, his face reflecting more than a hint of sadness.
Mac noticed. "What's wrong, Harry?" she asked, finally invading his personal space.
Harry gulped. "I did some things I'm not proud of," he said, whispering.
Mac smiled slightly. "We all did, Harry, and I'm not here to judge you."
Harry nodded, not really convinced.
"Look, I know you for very little time, but I can say you're a nice guy. Whatever you did I can guarantee it was with the best intentions in mind, even when they went wrong."
"The road to Hell is paved with good intentions," he quoted, somberly.
"Only if you want to go to Hell, Harry. Do you?"
Harry shook his head. "No, but my life seems to be dragging me inexorably towards it, besides I do know I'll have to face the Devil in the future," he said, enigmatically.
"What do you mean?"
"I'll tell you later. Let's get out of here, I think Immie is getting worried," Harry said, effectively cutting the current conversation.
"Sure, but before we do, let me do something," she said, coming even closer to him.
"What?" he asked, guarded.
"This," and she hugged him. Harry stiffened for a moment, but then he relaxed into the hug. "Remember one thing, Harry, you can't lie to me here, or I to you. Before being your teacher, I'm your friend," she said with a smile.
And that, Harry Potter realized, was the absolute truth.
Harry groaned again after a few moments. Dudley removed the wet towel from his face and stood up.
"I guess I'll be going. He must not be happy with me," he said.
A deceptively strong hand grabbed his wrist before he could give a step back.
"You're wrong, Dud. True, I didn't like being hit that much, matter of fact, oww," Harry said, lightly massaging the swollen area. "But, I must say it was loads better than the alternative. So what I wanted to say was thank you," he said, opening his hand and holding it open. Dudley gaped, looking like a fish, till comprehension dawned. He grabbed the offered hand and smiled.
"You're welcome. Look, I'll leave you in the good care of those ladies. Don't talk much, and keep the ice on your face," he said and left, looking to the relieved faces of both women.
The happy feeling he had bubbling inside of him was suddenly squashed, as soon as he closed the door behind him. Outside, his parents were waiting for him, the look on their faces was the one usually reserved to his cousin.
"We have to talk, Dudley," his father said, sternly.
Dudley sighed and walked to his room, as a man walking to his own execution.
It started as Dudley had predicted, his parents rambling and complaining about the unnaturalness and freakishness of it all, until it arrived to the part which he feared.
". . . why, Dudders?"
"Why what, mother?"
"Why are you helping that . . . that thing?" she asked with disgust.
"That thing, mother, has a name, and it is Harry. Harry Potter. And he is the last link you have to your family."
"Why are you defending him, son?" Vernon asked, surprised with the outburst.
"For several reasons, first because he's a human being and he deserves to be treated as such, second, if you didn't realize it yet, he saved my life last year, so I do believe he deserves my respect," he replied as evenly as he could.
"B-but I-I thought y-you hated him . . ." Vernon said, flummoxed.
"No, Father, you hated him, I just followed, not knowing better. Now I do," Dudley replied, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
Petunia covered her mouth with her bony hand, surprised with his son's reply.
"H-he did something to you, w-with th-that thing of his. . ." she said, scared.
"His magic, mum?" he asked, softly. "No, he didn't, besides, he can't, remember?" he tried to appeal to their logic. "Tell me, mum, did Aunt Lily change so much after she discovered she was a witch?"
That stopped Petunia cold.
"Don't you dare bring her name to this," she seethed.
"Why not, mother, because you were jealous of her?" he barreled on. "Because she was a witch and you weren't?"
The resounding 'crack' of the strong slap came as a surprise to Dudley. His mother covered her mouth with both hands in shame, she had never hit him, not even as a child.
"I guess that it is true that the truth hurts," Dudley said, caressing the imprint of his mother's hand on his cheek, sadness clear in his face. His Father was divided between imitating a fish and growing angry. "Well, I don't know if I deserved that, mum, but I guess it answered my question. But tell me, was she so different from the sister you grew up with, or was she the same, with just something else?"
Petunia remained silent, but Dudley noticed that she was thinking about it. Vernon decided to intervene.
"She was an aberration, as was that no-good husband of hers," he snarled, trying to defend his wife.
"No-good, Dad? The same no-good who paid for this house, your car, my presents? Is this the same man we're talking about?" Dudley asked, angrily.
"H-how?" Vernon asked, blanching.
"Harry told me. Did you truly think it would be a secret forever, Dad? Are you so stupid?"
"Don't talk to me like that, young man, I'm still your father, I demand respect!"
"Yeah, I guess you do. Demand, that is," Dudley said, the same sadness from a few moments ago back again, full force. "Dad, Harry is a wizard, he won't be living here forever and he will take charge of his own life. He already discovered what you've been doing all these years, and that, I believe, is what saved your life. Can you believe what would have happened if he discovered it after he was free to do magic at will?"
Vernon had the decency to lose all color from his face, and so did Petunia.
"That's right, Dad," Dudley confirmed, concluding what his parents were thinking. "Now, Mum, about Aunt Lily, why did you hate her? Let me guess, she went to that school of theirs, she came back during breaks, your parents were curious about what she was doing, and she had loads to talk about, so they forgot about you for a time, am I right?"
Petunia remained frozen as a statue.
"Then, she comes home one day, telling that she fell in love with a wizard, and that she'll marry him. He's rich, he's good looking and he'll take your sister from you. They marry, have a son and a madman attacks them one night, and the only survivor is your nephew, and somehow his mother trusts you to take care of him, the blood from her family will protect Harry and you and whoever lives with you for the time being. My question is, why did we hate him so much? He was a kid, he had no blame to what happened between you and your sister, so, why did we hate him so?"
"Because he is a freak!" Vernon bellowed.
"He was a baby, Father!" Dudley screamed back, arguing with his parents for the first time in his life. "That is not the true reason, is it? You were both jealous of what they had, wasn't it? Wasn't it? WASN'T IT?" Dudley screamed, louder and louder.
"YES!" Petunia finally cracked, to both Vernon and Dudley's surprise. "Yes, was this the answer you're looking for? Yes, we were jealous of my sister and her perfect life," she said, crying.
The young man remained mute for a few moments, now his time to imitate a fish. He was almost certain what the answer would be that, but it was surprising, nonetheless.
"So, what is Harry's blame in all of that?" Dudley asked, and left his own room, leaving his mother and father behind, so he and they could think about it. Imogen was standing outside of Harry's room. He looked to her, a hint of a smile crossing her face.
"You did the right thing, Dudley," she said.
"Only problem was that I did it too late, miss . . . Sorry, I didn't catch your name," he asked.
"Imogen. You may call me Immie, though. But better late than never, young man."
"Perhaps," he replied, defeated. "I'm going for a walk, I need to think."
"Take care, on the first sign of trouble, come back home," she said.
"I will, thanks," he said and went downstairs.
Dudley walked around the neighborhood for a few hours, when he noticed the time, almost all the houses had their lights off, the only illumination being provided by the street lamps. He walked a bit faster, going straight to his house, when he noticed a car coming slowly down the street, as if searching for something. One of the windows opened, and a young woman motioned him to stop.
"Excuse me, do you know where number four, Privet Drive is?" she asked politely.
A flash of recognition passed between them as soon as she made the question.
"Are you a friend of Harry's?"
"Aren't you Harry's cousin?" they both asked at the same time.
"Yes, I am," they both answered at the same time as well, which gained a smile from each other.
"Sorry, Dudley Dursley," he spoke, extending his hand. The woman promptly scowled.
"Hermione Granger," she said, not grabbing his hand.
"I think Harry told you about me, huh?" he asked, not really surprised with her reaction. "I can imagine what he told you about me, and I think he wasn't wrong. Come on, my house is the fourth one back there. You can make the turn down the street, I'll be waiting at the door."
"How is he?" she asked, worried.
"He's better now, a few friends of his came earlier, and he is okay now, I guess. But come on, I guess he'll be happy to see you."
Hermione spoke to the woman driving the car, and they accelerated, while Dudley arrived at the now twice-repaired front door. In moments, they were parking in front of the house, Hermione bolting off the car like a bullet.
"Calm down, he's okay," he said, trying to reassure her.
"I want to see with my own eyes, if you please," she said, pointing to the still closed door.
"Sure, second floor, first door to the left," he said, opening the door. Hermione didn't even wait for an invitation, she ran inside the now darkened house, going upstairs two steps at a time.
A/N: And another one bites the dust. Okay, Dudley spoke with his parents. Should I press the issue further or not, meaning, should he tell them that he's gay?
Kinsfire: As we've talked privately, next chapter we'll see Mac explaining her actions, why she broke the rules. And unfortunately, she'll do it again, but with good cause this time.
Abysslord: Sorry, no Harry/Immie, not because of the age issue, but because she'll fulfill another role in his life. What it is, keep on reading . grins
Next chapter, the will of Sirius and huge surprises.
And as always, please review, I'd like to know how I'm going.
BigHead