Embracing His True Self
Chapter 11
Offer of lessons
Harry stood in Voldemort's study, having been summoned there five minutes ago at the least. Voldemort had then studied him for a few minutes before speaking, causing Harry to stare at him in disbelief, wondering if he was still dreaming or had perhaps heard incorrectly. His disbelief narrowed into suspicion, why on earth would he want to do such a thing? It made no logical sense to him, and he was quite frankly baffled. "Er…what?" he managed to rasp out, experimentally pinching his leg to see if it hurt ― which it did. He certainly wasn't dreaming, it seemed.
"I do not like repeating myself, Potter," Voldemort stated smoothly, leaning causally against his desk, regarding Harry with curiosity and just a hint of anger in his red eyes.
"But, why?" Harry asked stiffly, not trusting that the offer was genuine. The offer seemed sincere, but anything spoken from that face did! Voldemort himself had said he was very good at charming people around him when he needed to. This was something that Harry couldn't deny; Tom was charismatic, very much so. Harry couldn't see the bigger picture here; with Dumbledore, everything was entirely obvious.
"You know, anyone else would have been salivating at the idea of learning from me, Potter," Voldemort said, his lips twitching as he thought of the faces of those who had been informed of that in the past. The revered, awed looks… it never got old. Yet here was Potter glaring at him in suspicion. Perhaps the boy was right to do so; he rarely did anything out of the 'goodness of his heart', he did things that would benefit himself as well.
"Yes, well, I'm not everyone," Harry replied, contemplating the prospect of learning. He couldn't deny that he was excited at the prospect, and getting more so when it seemed another shoe wasn't about to drop. To learn one of the most ancient magicks in the magical world? He would be a fool not to be, and despite what everyone thought, he wasn't a fool. Which was why he knew there had be a reason behind this.
"No, no you most certainly are not," Voldemort stated calmly, taking his normal seat in his office. "I demand an answer by the end of tonight; the subject will not be broached again," he said in clear dismissal, his quill already working fast and furious against parchment.
Harry stared, it was rather quite disconcerting, really. He looked like a normal scholar right now, not a Dark Lord planning on taking over the magical population. He could only hope that Voldemort had listened to him, that he wouldn't go around killing Muggle-borns. They were just as magical as the rest of them; they had been born special and they deserved more than death just because the purebloods had thrown their children out upon finding out they were a squib. If anyone was to blame, it was them. If they'd just allowed their kids to stay… there would be no 'Muggle-borns', technically speaking. It was the one thing he was surer of than anything else in the world. He wasn't sure why, though, since he didn't have definitive proof… but yes, he believed it with the whole of his being. It was instinctive, almost as if he had picked up the information somewhere but not knowing where.
Turning around he left, hesitating at the door for a second before leaving completely. He had wanted to remain and read the book on Occlumency; he had been reading it for an hour or so each day. Since he was only allowed to read it here, well, he was constantly interrupted and asked to leave in no uncertain terms; obviously Voldemort didn't want the Death Eaters to know he was there. The book was a large tome, so to read it all was taking him a while. What he had read so far was definitely intriguing to say the least.
Did that mean he wanted to take Voldemort up on his offer to learn Occlumency and Legilimency from him? Admittedly he couldn't see Voldemort ever allowing him entrance to his mind! The book said once you had perfected Occlumency, then he would find the other art extremely easy. That Occlumency was actually the most difficult to master out of both of them. This made sense, since Occlumency was a defensive spell while Legilimency was an offensive spell.
Shaking off these thoughts, he gazed around shrewdly; he still wanted to find the lower dungeons, but everything else he had tried so far had failed. He doubted anyone else could tell him ― even if they wanted to, since this place was probably new to them. When he'd had his visions, it was Riddle Mansion they had been staying in, and this certainly wasn't it. No this place was steeped in magic, and not just in the wards, so there was no way this was the place. Added to that fact, it was very different structurally.
He had looked in nearly every nook and cranny of the place, trying to find an area magically concealed or anything that led to a dungeon… other than the one he had been kept in, but so far all his thoughts and efforts had failed. Huffing in contemplation, an idea dawned on him, if he had been in the dungeons… and the prisoners were in the lower dungeons, then could it be possible that they were underneath where he had been kept? Why hadn't he thought of that sooner?
A small grin made its way onto his face. Glancing back at the study, he swiftly made his way down the corridor, excitement thrumming through him. There was nothing like a mystery being solved, it always made him feel undeniably smug. It wasn't solved yet, but he had a feeling he was right this time. Opening the heavy door he wandered into the cells, already feeling the draught. He was gazing around, now able to see perfectly, when he noticed it. He couldn't help but chuckle deviously. Harry moved towards the back where the statue was. The only problem was, the statue looked as though it was attached to the wall… but it wasn't. No, it was merely hiding an entrance. If not for the subtle breeze causing the torch to flicker, he wouldn't have realized that. Sliding around the statue, and through the entrance―which didn't have a door― he moved along the wall, having to be careful since it was mostly pitch black along the way.
His heart leapt painfully when his foot found only empty air, and Harry's hands fought to keep himself steady against the wall. He regained his equilibrium; there must be steps, he realized as he tried to move only to have gravity shift beneath him as he had nothing to stand on. Breathing evenly, he shifted slightly and realized yes, there were steps. He concentrated on keeping himself pressed against the wall, wondering if he should go back and fetch the torch. Perhaps that was the reason it was there to begin with? Nixing the idea immediately, he continued going down the steps, taking his time to make sure he didn't fall and embarrass himself completely.
Then just as he stepped down on what he realized was the dungeon floor light flared to life, so he could actually see. A sadistic grin twisted his features as he looked at his so called family. They were cold, starving, and wishing to be anywhere but there… oh, it was poetic justice at its greatest. Chuckling darkly, he strolled over to them just enjoying their suffering as they had made him suffer over the years. "My, my, how normal you must feel now," he told them, watching their first stirrings.
"You?" Petunia spat, somewhat confused, "You did to this to us, boy! I should have listened to Vernon and had you drowned the second you landed on our doorstep, you FREAK!" She was glaring at him as if he was the most foul abomination on the earth.
"Get us out of here, boy, now!" Vernon barked, glaring at him in a way that had always had the boy cringing and backing away from him. It succeeded in doing nothing this time, the brat just looked amused. Fear began to flow through him, he had always feared the day Potter realized his power; it was why he had always beaten it into him that he was a freak, to make sure he didn't, so the boy was always scared of him… too scared to even use his freakish powers against him. He would have shuddered if his body hadn't been so cold that it couldn't move ― quite literally.
"Oh, you have no idea just how much I did this to you," Harry chuckled; the names and looks they were giving him slid off him like water did a rock. He had stopped caring what they thought a very long time ago, but the reverse of power did make him feel exceedingly giddy. "I had a choice: stay here or go to Privet Drive… knowing you'd be brought here… and its pretty self-evident which course I took, don't you think?" His green eyes were gleaming in vindication. "I'm rather pleased I did, this place is rather suitable for trash like you."
"We should never have taken you in, death follows you everywhere boy!" Petunia spat, her voice full of vitriol. "Should have killed you when we had the chance." She gazed at him menacingly.
Vernon and Dudley were too terrified to even speak; they just sat there huddled in their corner, unlike Petunia who had actually been around magic. She might be petrified of it but she put on a pathetically brave front and refused to give in to her fear. They had no idea where they were, or if they would even be rescued. The crackpot old fool had sworn they would be safe; Vernon knew he shouldn't have listened to the old man, but part of him had believed him. At least the boy couldn't perform magic, so they wouldn't be hurt. They were beginning to realize, though, that there were other ways to be hurt… but they were in denial.
"So you've said," Harry replied casually, staring at his fingernails, his boredom evident in every line of his face. "A million times, I'd guess." He turned to stare, his eyes gleaming wickedly. "It's just really too bad I can't help you feel more… welcome," he sighed dramatically. "No magic outside of school, it really is a buzz kill, you know?" he added conversationally.
They three Dursleys squeaked, yes even Petunia; that word was forbidden in the Dursley household; they were terrified of the word.
Harry rolled his eyes. "Well it's been fun, and I'll see you later," Harry said, moving away from them then adding, "Maybe… but I wouldn't expect your life span to be quite long here." Chortling madly at the looks on their faces, his eyes then zoned in on Figg in a cell at the other end of the room. There were thick grey walls on either side of the cells, preventing anyone from seeing another person, or touching them; the area was inundated in some variation of a silencing charm. Maybe preventing the other prisoners hearing each other? He would need to ask. He stepped closer to Figg's cell, feeling the magic wash over him, confirming his thoughts about some sort of silencing magic.
"H-h-harry?" stuttered the woman, her eyes going wide with fear. "W-wh-how did you get here?" She was clearly horrified, unable to believe the saviour of the magical world was also here. Relief also spread through her, causing her to relax. Albus wouldn't leave Harry here, he would come for her, and she was saved at last. "He took you too?" She would need to tread carefully now. Harry was unaware of who she was.
"Took me?" Harry asked, his face blank, purposely being vague. He hadn't been in the room, he had been told to wait at the door. Just Voldemort had gone in; a quick stunning spell had brought her down, and the House-elf had gotten her out of the house. "What are you on about?"
"You-Know-Who," she whispered the word as if terrified of the mere mention of it. "He's different, changed somehow, but it's him, Harry, you must run! Run as fast as you can, call the Knight Bus and get to Dumbledore; stay safe." The boy was more important than her.
"How do you know who that is?" Harry said suspiciously. She was thick; couldn't she see that he wasn't exactly a prisoner? He was on the outside of her cell! For Merlin's sake, it couldn't have been any more obvious. "And what do you mean, he's different?" This question was an actual, genuine one.
"Crucio!" Voldemort hissed, revealing himself, his eyes flashing dangerously. His magic dimmed the room with its intensity so that even Harry felt as if he had been submerged in pure magic. The hatred he could taste in the air was quite thick; he wondered why. She was after all only a squib.
"Run! Harry! Run! Get out of here!" Figg shouted after the spell ended and while the tremors coursed through her.
Harry scowled at the bars, wondering what the hell she was thinking; maybe knowing Legilimency would be a good thing. "Couldn't you have waited a few more minutes?"
"No," Voldemort stated, giving Harry a long considering look. "You knew I was there?" He had sensed absolutely no surprise from the boy.
"Of course I did," Harry snorted in amusement, "I always do." Albeit without the pain anymore, he realized, chuckling in amusement at the look of dawning horror on Figg's face. It looked as though she was beginning to understand what was happening here; good. Maybe he should come down with Veritaserum next time and get the answers he wanted. "What's wrong?" he said gazing at her in mock confusion.
"She thinks I have deceived you," sneered Voldemort, a twinkle of sadistic bemusement in his eyes. "That you do not know who I am, just that I took you in when you 'ran away', and I am just bidding my time before I kill you." His tone was slightly teasing ― which of course Dark Lords did not do, so he would naturally deny it under any circumstances.
"Hmm, if you looked different during the war, how did she recognize you?" Harry questioned.
"Yes, a very good question, isn't it?" Voldemort pondered thoughtfully.
Harry glanced at him surprised; it was obvious that he didn't know the answer to the question. Voldemort wasn't looking at him, though, he was looking at Figg. The woman had gone pale, but was staring back at him, her eyes slightly glazed. Harry stared at her intently, watching as her body twitched now and again. Was he using Legilimency? The urge to try the connection to Voldemort was strong; he wanted to see what it was like for himself. He didn't dare do that, though, he'd rather not end up cursed and after the first time it had happened… he looked ready to do just that. Figg passed out once Voldemort was done raiding her memories.
"Of all the coincidences," Voldemort replied slightly amazed despite himself.
"What is it?" Harry asked, looking at him, although he was honestly not expecting an answer.
"She is the younger sister of the girl I killed whilst still at Hogwarts," Voldemort replied offhandedly, certainly not feeling guilty about her murder.
"Whaaat?" Harry's face had turned comical.
"And if you did indeed find the Chamber entrance, you'll already know," he pointed out wryly, remembering the last few days at Hogwarts after the incident, how Myrtle had gone around wreaking havoc on Hornby. The year afterwards had been just as hilarious ― not that anyone was ever let on to the fact. He couldn't be seen laughing, now could he? Not in public with the teachers watching so closely ― especially Dumbledore.
"Myrtle?" Harry grappled mentally trying to accept that. "How can she be a squib then? Wasn't Myrtle a Muggle-born? You said it yourself, you were trying to purge the school of people you thought were unworthy…" his sarcasm was obvious for both to hear.
"Actually, she was a half-blood, a descendant of the Warren line, and I hadn't intended on her being killed," Voldemort admitted ruefully. She had been in the wrong place at the wrong time when the Basilisk emerged from its chamber. "Dumbledore used that to get her to work for him; she alone knows my true appearance and name."
"Well, that makes sense," Harry replied, "Did she tell him?" he growled, realizing Voldemort held the answer to his questions and not her.
"I think that it is best you see the memories for yourself," Voldemort replied thoughtfully, coming to a decision. What better way to turn him further to the Dark than by showing him? Letting him see for himself just how little regard Dumbledore had for his safety? Although, he was enraged by the blatant discarding of a magical child, to despicable Muggles no less. He may have killed the boy's parents but he would not have wished that upon him. Death was a mercy to what Harry had endured as a child. If he was to let the boy go, then he had to take every precaution necessary to ensure the boy wouldn't fight him. "Follow me."
Voldemort had known the second the boy stepped foot in the lower dungeons that he had found it at long last. He hadn't been surprised; if he had found the entrance to the chamber of secrets in less than a year…well, he knew the boy would find it sooner or later. He'd realized he was looking for it the day after he had enquired about where the lower dungeons were. It wasn't easy to find, in fact it wasn't supposed to be found at all, least of all by those who didn't know where it was. He had Apparated directly down there, and observed the boy; the urge to kill the Dursleys was greater than ever. The boy had known he was there the whole time; he wasn't sure what to think of that. This connection between them was bothersome to say the least, the boy obviously having more of the connection than he felt, since without the wards he wouldn't know where Potter was.
It was disconcerting; he would need to question him about it. Either that, or he could dig into those memories if the boy conceded to Occlumency lessons. He didn't want Dumbledore in the know after all, and doing Merlin only knows what to him. He alone knew just how desperate Dumbledore was to win the war, at any and all cost. He would keep an annoyingly close watch on Harry if he chose to return. Perhaps teaching him how to Apparate would be in his best interests as well.
Harry lay on the floor breathing heavily, calling Voldemort all the names under the sun, bloody bastard that he was, his lessons were brutal. Although he couldn't deny the effectiveness of them, since his mental shields were like muscles, the more he practiced the stronger they got. Although Voldemort was ruthless anyway, he smashed through his shields like it was bloody butter and into his memories all over again. Although to be fair he seemed to just concentrate on the ones from his second year, his experiences with the diary and everything he and Dumbledore had spoke about at the end of the year. Voldemort snorted in disgust when he got wind of the 'services to the school' award but he had stopped despite the fact he didn't usually, a thoughtful look on his face.
"Why are you teaching me this?" Harry enquired as he shakily got to his feet and sat down on the chair, he didn't want to continue right now his head was bloody pounding something awful.
"Would you rather I stop?" Voldemort questioned but Harry immedately shook his head, the boy was truly an enigma.
"Huh," Harry murmured quietly when the pain stopped suddenly.
"You do realize Dumbledore knew where the entrance was don't you, Potter? He sent his prized bird down to you, and it was not your loyalty to him that drove it down there." Voldemort revealed honestly, "Phoenixes are smart yes, but they don't do anything for anyone unless it's the one they're bound to. That and I suspected since Myrtle died that he has known the location - just unable to get down." he was somewhat embarrassed by the seventeen year old part of his soul and his actions, it went to show just how quickly he could become obsessed with things even back then.
"I did wonder about it, I sort of assumed maybe my words were enough, whether I felt them or not," Harry shrugged, he wouldn't be surprised if it were true, he already knew he was being played. Why did it matter if he had been edged towards the second year confrontation as well as his first year? No, nothing much surprised him these days, with the obvious exception of being kept alive, but he knew why now. He was a Horcrux, a living Horcrux, and of course Voldemort wouldn't want to destroy his own soul. He supposed he should be grateful for that, at least he knew he wasn't going to be killed…at least here at any rate.
"Stand," Voldemort demanded, his wand held loosely in his hand, waiting for the boy to do as he was told. Which he did in the lessons surprisingly enough, all of them in fact. He was very eager to learn, but did not expect praise, the first time he had said anything to the boy he had been stunned enough to show it. Whether it was because he had said something or if he wasn't used to being commended on his magical powers he had no idea. Just because he had been in his mind it didn't mean he understood everything about the boy. Which was a good thing really, he was being constantly surprised by him, and it would make the day to day training rather…interesting.
Harry groaned but stood as he had been instructed. Grant had been to see him three days ago, the healer, who he had to admit he sort of liked; he always got these comical looks on his face. Although he wasn't impressed he still had so many potions to take, especially the way Voldemort lorded over them - still threatening him if he didn't take them.
The best thing about agreeing to the lessons was Voldemort had performed a ritual to remove the trace on his person, which meant obviously he could use magic. It had been done earlier, apparently there was a waiting time before he could use magic though, so he didn't do anything yet.
"Legilimens!" Voldemort cast with snake like reflexes - even if he no longer looked like one. As always Harry as distracted as he had been lost in thought did give quite a challenge, but he'd always known he would. He had sensed his resistance the first time he had entered his mind and looked through his memories when he got impatient with the brat. Now that he knew what occlumency was and had obviously understood it the resistance was becoming more insistent each time he tried and it was only their first lesson. All it took was one shove of his powers and he was in, watching memory after memory.
As abruptly as he was viewing the memories, he was back in his office and as always the boy was on his knees utterly exhausted. Perhaps if he actually felt what it was like to cast Legilimens he would have greater success? To feel how it was cast, how it felt to be on the other end of the wand, he was doing exceptionally well even now, but considering his power he wasn't surprised. Perhaps it was time for Potter to see within the Squibs mind, truly know just how much he had been manipulated? Oh he wasn't going to give up on having the boy on his side. He was using all means at his disposal. The boy had seen the memories that Severus had provided, to his credit he hadn't once shown anything while viewing the memories, and if it wasn't for the band around his ankle Voldemort wouldn't have even known his real feelings on the matter. "Come," Voldemort once again demanded. Moving towards the door yet waiting patiently for Harry to regain his bearings. He himself had never learned Occlumency of Legilimency this way, he had been self taught, capable of it since he was a very young boy. He had perfected the art as a teenager, receiving books from Abraxas Malfoy while at Hogwarts. He was very good at everything he did, and he wasn't ashamed to admit that, in fact he was superior and smug about that fact - he had every right to be.
"Where are we going?" Harry asked, as he managed to get up on shaky legs, his head was pounding and he felt shaky and weak. Although it wasn't as bad as it had been when he first started so that was something at least.
"Move," Voldemort ordered, irritated by the constant questions, he was letting the boy off with more than he let even any of his inner circle. Even cursing him hadn't worked, although admittedly he hadn't done it after that one time when he had mentioned him and Dumbledore being alike. He would never be compared to that manipulative old fool. He might be manipulative, but he never manipulated to the extent to force people to do his bidding for him, no he did his own dirty work thank you, he wasn't afraid to get his hands dirty. Although he did expect everyone on his side to get their own hands just as dirty if the situation called for it.
Harry curiously moved towards the elder wizard, using all his control to stop himself rolling his eyes, he was so used to getting his way, that if he demands something the other would just automatically do it without question 'jump and how high' rattled around in his mind as he thought that. It made his lip curl that he was doing it as well, but at least he tried to annoy Voldemort in subtle ways - he didn't want to push him too far. He was too exhausted as it was without a Crucio being thrown on top of it. His curiosity heightened further when he realized they were heading towards the dungeons. Not just the top ones either, they were going to the lower dungeons.
They didn't stop until they were in front of Figg.
"Cast Legilimens on her," Voldemort commanded, putting Harry directly in front of the squibs cell.
"No…Harry…please…don't…he will kill you, he'll kill you," she whispered, moving herself to the side of the cell as if it could somehow protect her from what was coming.
"What and Dumbledore didn't plan on me dying anyway?" Harry scoffed at her, glaring darkly, how he hated the woman - worse than he even hated the Dursley's. She had babysat him, and made him feel like shit the entire time. All those years she had been working for Dumbledore, doing what he asked without question - not caring about the obvious abuse he suffered. Well she would suffer now, why should he care about her when she had refused to aid him when he needed it? There was no way she would get out of here alive and it gave him a sense of feral satisfaction. Almost as much satisfaction he had gotten out of creating his spells, the thought of using them did not compare to this. No, her fate had been sealed the second Voldemort had shown him all the relivant memories he had ripped from Figgs head.
"What? No! No! No! Harry, he's lying, that's what he does," Figg rasped out between her dry lips. Terror written across every inch of her face, as she began to realize there was no hope for Harry he was too far gone - he believed everything Tom Riddle was saying. He had fallen into the trap so many others had, she prayed he realized what was going on before too long. "Albus loves you like a grandson, he cares for you." she added, praying that it would somehow knock him out of whatever manipulations Voldemort was seeding within him.
Voldemort leaned against the cell, looking thoroughly bored, but his eyes, his red eyes were sparkling slightly as if he was getting a great deal of amusement out of this. It always did amuse him to see people panicking, scared, and the words that came out of their mouths when they felt cornered, the lies were truly hilarious. Dumbledore love anyone? Other than himself? He needn't have worried about Potter accepting the words as truth; all he could feel through the bond was contempt and hatred, on par with his own hatred of the old fool. He never thought he would have seen the day were precious Potter would hate Dumbledore, especially the way he had acted during his first year. The way he looked up to the old man, it was nauseating, yes, he had been thoroughly duped.
"Legilimens!" Harry spat out, aiming his wand straight at her, using the spell for the first time. He found it extremely disconcerting immediately, as the room faded out of view and all he could see was memory after memory flying past him. He dug for specific ones, wishing to see if he could find any of her contacting Dumbledore after babysitting him. Instead what he found infuriated him beyond any measure he had ever felt, and she could sense it as he ripped into her mind causing her to cry out at the agony of having Harry's angry magic invade her mind so harshly. He ripped himself from her mind when he had everything he wanted from her.
"Cutem nudaveris!" hissed Harry, without thinking. Using one of his darker spells, watching her, his green eyes gleaming in satisfaction as her screams turned into high pitched wails as her skin felt as though it was being shed from her skin with a blunt rusty knife and being reattached absolutely everywhere.
Voldemort perked up slightly, turning to face the squib, watching her with fascination, a vindictive sneer on his face, like the Cruciatus Curse, you didn't see the damage, it was all internal. In fact judging by the screams she was letting off, it was even worse than his favourite spell, he couldn't have that now could he? Perhaps he should invest some time in a new spell; he couldn't be outdone by a fourteen year old after all. Although he didn't necessary want to cause too much harm to his followers, just let them know when they'd disappointed him. The Cruciatus damage could be healed with a single potion, so it wasn't as if they were incapacitated for days. It seemed to last longer as well, since Harry had already lowered his wand, fascinating. It took three minutes (yes he counted) for her screams to die down and her body spasm in relief as the curse finally ceased.
Turning to face the boy, he wondered what he had seen to raise his hackles so to speak, he hadn't seen him so angry before. As if Harry understood his questioning gaze, despite the fact he knew he had no emotion showing on his face - he spoke or rather spat the offending words. "There was another spy!" grasping a hold of the cell door, trying to stop the anger consuming him. Last time it had he'd let out one hell of a bout of accidental magic and inflated Marge. He had figured out the spell, it was hard to master, and if done wrong could kill whoever was on the receiving end quite quickly. He had found it while 'searching' for spells he could use during the tournament.
"Are you truly surprised, Potter? He left nothing to chance, he doesn't do well in dealing with chance - he discards them. He couldn't risk you being anything other than what he wanted, what he needed. Any sign of rebellion even before Hogwarts would have been nipped in the bud." Voldemort sneered; "With abuse there is always the risk of going too far and he has plenty of experience in that area." was there even a chance Potter would want to return to Hogwarts after all this? Quite possibly, it had been his home for seven years; no doubt Potter felt the same. He hadn't seen any sign of another spy, but he hadn't specifically been looking for that just ones with interactions with Dumbledore.
"I shouldn't have been," Harry hissed, his wand twitching as if he had a desire to curse her again.
"Go ahead, I know you want to," Voldemort whispered seductively in the teens ear. "One little word, the rush is like no other." Potters magic could no longer be light or even neutral, the spells he was casting…his inclinations were definitely in the dark arts. He hated to admit it but the boy was absolutely a natural at Parselmagic, he found it easier than anything else - but Parselmagic was a part of him, just like the snake language was. They would never know if it was the Horcrux that gave him the ability or if he had it before the attack, it was possible seen as they were cousins. It was ironic, he was related to the Peverells though both parents, Ignotus and Camdus.
"I wont be manipulated by you," Harry said firmly, but it was reluctant at best, he wanted to cast it but not because he had said anything.
Voldemort laughed sardonically, "You weren't by Dumbledore, and you allowed it to happen, Potter that's the difference. He might think he was successfully in turning you into his little puppet, and I cannot wait for the day where his hopes and dreams for you come crashing down around his ears." he informed him gleefully. "I am only giving you a push in the right direction; do you think I cannot feel your urge to punish her further? To make her feel even an ounce of what you did growing up with the disgusting Muggles?" Shrewd green eyes turned to face him, before he cocked his head slightly as if to concede his point without saying anything. It made Voldemort laugh again, yes having Potter around was turning into so much fun - his kind of fun.
"To cast that spell you must feel hatred, desire to cause pain, to make them suffer," Voldemort revealed still standing behind him, whispering to him, egging him on - he was just dying to turn Harry as dark as he could. Oh the look on Dumbledore's face when (not if) he learned the truth, it was euphoric just thinking about it. Nobody cast it successfully the first time; it took a few tries, same with all the Unforgivables. The only way to truly master them is willingness, to cause pain, to kill, to control and Voldemort desired all those things above all else.
Harry shivered; he convinced himself it was just at Voldemort's words, nothing else, absolutely nothing else. He refused to even contemplate the feeling, instead shoving it as far at the back of his mind as he could, locking it away completely.
Gripping his wand, he pointed it at her, he wanted it to work more than anything else, he wasn't quite sure why but he wanted to impress Voldemort. Although he honestly didn't think anything could, he was a genius at school apparently, beating most of Dumbledore's scores…the ritual he had created to return to human form, well…it couldn't really be considered human form when he first returned. He wasn't sure if something had gone wrong or something since a few days later Voldemort then appeared human, an older version of Tom Riddle in the diary. The only thing he seemed to have kept was his red ruby eyes, and they suited him, crap his mind was wandering into dangerous territory. "Crucio!" Harry snapped every nerve in his body stiffening as he let himself fuel all the hatred he felt for the woman in front of him. A delighted euphoric feeling rushed through him, bloody hell, no wonder he liked using the spell so much, he thought as Figg began scream and scratching at herself like one of her demented cats.
Voldemort arched an eyebrow, surprised that the spell had worked its first time, even his Death Eaters had struggled at first. They'd assumed it was like all spells; just say the words and the curse would magically work. No, those spells required intent behind them, he couldn't help but wonder if the boy had cast it before, but he knew he had not. He had said himself that his biggest concern was to stay under Dumbledore's radar doing only small innocuous things that he could talk himself out of. He was truly going to enjoy teaching him all he knew, it wasn't as if he had to fear the boy using it against him since the band would prevent it - it was truly one of his best pieces of work as of late. He belatedly realized that Potter still had his wand aimed at her, and if he didn't release it soon - she would be utterly insane. The question was did he care? Did he stop him? With a much put up on sigh, he lowered the boys arm, stopping the curse immediately.
"Any longer and she would have been driven insane, that isn't a spell you want to play about with," Voldemort said with great reluctance, "There are limits one must observe, especially with that curse."
Harry shrugged, he didn't really care if he was honest, and he had to stop himself from casting it again, that feeling had been…immensely pleasurable. "Why doesn't normal magic react like that?" ignoring the snivelling and crying of the woman in the cell.
"Because it requires power, your power to achieve its full potential, all dark arts do to an extent, that is why its addictive, and that is why weak willed wizards succumb to the allure and lose themselves. Not being taught this at Hogwarts, when people curiously delve and lose themselves, they end up in Azkaban for something beyond their control. All other magic schools teach the Dark Arts, to prevent such an occurrence from happening." Voldemort lectured, sounding as if he had given that speech a million times. "The Unforgivables are the worst for self destruction, and the so called light wizards approved for Aurors to use the spells without consequences. Again you'd be surprised by how many of them have been quietly shipped of to Azkaban for one reason or another without the Ministry attaching itself any blame whatsoever." Voldemort realized that he couldn't sense any surprise from the bond, just derision, and disgust for the ministry he assumed.
"So it's my magic I'm feeling?" Harry mused thoughtfully.
"It's similar to the feeling one feels when meditating to find your magical core." Voldemort revealed idly. "Just not as…thrilling." he finally settled on a word he felt best described it.
"I met him before, once," Harry said gazing at nothing in particular his mind a million miles away.
Voldemort moved from behind the teen, and returned to his place beside the cell, leaning against it as he gazed at the boy curiously. How it is that he could be very easy to deal with one moment and making him wishing to kill him the next? Nobody else could wind him up like Potter, but he would deal with that in time. "Indeed?" it was a question not a statement, but he wasn't sure whether the teen would elaborate, he hadn't seen everything in her head, he had only gotten a few of the more important details then left.
"He bowed to me in a shop, acting all excited, I though he was nuts, Petunia wasn't impressed, she hissed something at him and yanked on my arm as she pulled me out of the shop, it's actually one of the few times she's managed to hurt me using her hands." Harry revealed, she had actually dislocated his shoulder, of course Dudley had pushed it right back in by jumping on his back - suffocating him with his bulk. Without meaning to actually help him, he had just wanted to cause further pain. Which the idiot he was he thought he had, but in reality he'd only cried out due to his shoulder being forcefully resorted. "I have no idea who he is."
"My best bet is that he is someone from the Order, I have no doubt Severus can identify him for you, should you wish to know." Voldemort suggested. He too wanted to know who else had been 'in on the know' about a wizarding child being abused - not just anyone either, their precious saviour.
Harry nodded grimly.
"Harry…please, he'll kill you," she croaked terror written across every line of her body still.
"I don't care, as long as I get my revenge first he can do whatever he likes," Harry barked at her, grimacing in disgust. He was under no illusions that if Voldemort decided he wanted to kill him that he would just go ahead and do it. His life had never meant much, sure he had a Slytherin thirst for survival and the cunning to pull it off, but Voldemort was the ultimate Slytherin that made him look like a Hufflepuff compared to him. He could only hope that he could somehow come out of the war intact, but the likelihood was very small.
Voldemort arched an eyebrow, saying nothing, the boy was telling the truth, he didn't care but that wasn't news. Harry seemed to have a death wish, he still couldn't comprehend that, he would never admit it to anyone, but he was terrified of death, had been since he was a young boy during the muggle war which he should never have been part of (or so he felt). No magical child should be left behind, not with Muggles who would never understand them. The magical world should look after its own and when he finally won he would ensure that was the case.
Although if the boy was right, and that Muggle-born's were descendants from lines long thought gone, he would need to rectify some of his beliefs and let his followers know. They may just have families out there, and family was important to the pureblood's who never seemed to drop out a child or two at a time - with the exception of the Prewitts and Weasley's. During his schooling there had been three Prewitts and three Weasley's only, this generation of Weasley's was twice as large - sickening since they couldn't afford two never mind the seven they had. Narcissa Malfoy was a prime example of that, she had wanted another child but was unable to have another. He believed she had wanted another male heir to continue the Black legacy, along with a daughter.
Seeing the boy grimace in distaste at the still crying squib, he turned and walked away, expecting the boy would follow - he did unsurprisingly.
"Tomorrow you will learn the beginnings of Apparation; you never know when it might come in handy." Voldemort said in his usual demanding tone.
"Really? I thought you needed a licence cant they track it if you don't?" Harry didn't even bother to grumble about it; in fact he was rather excited about it. "I mean the book certainly implied that anyway." he shrugged dismissively. He had come across a book on Apparation or at least a chapter on it at least, while searching for ways to help him during the third task. Even if he had learned he wouldn't have been able to, as he had been told a million times you couldn't Apparate or Disapparate inside Hogwarts.
Just wait until he learned he would be able to as an heir to the founders - his blood had created the very school wards that stood proud over the generations.
"That is just to deter insipid people who cannot think for themselves," Voldemort sneered, "They read it so it must be true."
Harry just snorted, "Not always stupid people, but people who like books tend to believe everything they read…and believe hard."
"Personal experience, Potter?" Voldemort muttered sardonically, as he finally entered his office once more. Rolling his eyes at how comfortable Potter was in his domain, just slouching over to a seat he'd claimed as his and opened the book he had put there when they began occlumency lessons. He didn't normally remain here, he usually went to his room to sulk or rest whichever one it was that the boy did.
Of course as he was reading his book - he didn't grace him with a reply.
Meanwhile at the Order headquarters...
Albus Dumbledore was beyond pissed off now; he honestly had to refrain from having a fit like a spoiled five year old. He just didn't understand how Harry was able to stay off his radar and for so long with people all over looking for him. He had thought he could predict the boys every move, the only consolation was that Voldemort did not know of Harry's disappearance (or Merlin forbid behind it). He truly feared that the wizard would figure out the connection they two shared and somehow abduct him before he could get him back under his control. So he had made it very clear to his spy that he wasn't under any circumstances to find out. Although if that happened he knew Severus would rescue him, the thought of having his spy ousted so soon riled him up. He had to have someone in on the inside, had to know what Voldemort was planning at all times. Damn the boy to hell; just wait until he got his hands on him. With the Dursley's missing and probably dead, he couldn't return the boy to their care, which was annoying also, the boy needed put in his place every year, he became too wild too independent by the end of the term. Then again, he had a few people that could take the boy in that would treat him with the same distain. Severus was one of them, but it had its risks, he just had to find the boy first.
"I think its time to bring Miss. Granger and Mr. Weasley in; perhaps they might have an idea on what is going on better than we do." Albus said calmly. None of the owls flew when they put a letter on for Harry, they didn't even attempt to fly in any direction, and it was as if he was completely off the map like under the Fidelius Charm which wasn't possible. He couldn't have another wizard helping him, he didn't know anyone other than his close friends and himself as well as the teachers (and they would never go against him). He had kept the boy as secluded as possible, and Granger and Weasley had helped with that.
Severus sat up just a little bit straighter when he heard Albus' words, his face never betrayed any emotion, but he wanted to know just how bad the betrayal went when it came to those two so called friends. He did notice immediately that neither Black nor Lupin was in sight, interesting. Nobody else seemed even the slightest bit alarmed by his words, or confused. Did they all know about the abuse? Was every single person in this room jus using Harry for their own ends?
"Not to join," Molly said quietly, merely seeking reassurances of such a thing NOT happening.
"No, Molly, they aren't off-age yet, if they desire it when they've finished Hogwarts then they may," Albus soothed her immediately, smirking inwardly when she relaxed. He doubted the war would last that long, no; he had to have the war over with while the boy was truly under his complete control. He would have to rely on someone else to control Harry once he left, a partner, in all likelihood it would be Miss. Weasley, she had set her sights quite high and wished to become Lady Potter. "Would you please retrieve them for me?" he gestured with his hands.
"Of course," Molly said, simpering at the Headmaster before she stood up and quickly ran off to find her son and his girlfriend. Of course, they liked to pretend they were still 'just' friends, for Harry's sake with him going through so much without the added pressure of feeling like a third wheel. They knew how important it was to keep Harry within their circle, away from those who would use them for their own gain - poor boy was rather innocent in the ways of the world and how people truly were on the inside.
If only they knew.
"Ron? Hermione?" Molly called, knocking sharply, waiting a few moments until she was given the go ahead and allowed to enter. Both teens were reading books, Hermione one about Ancient Runes and Ron of course, was busy with his ancient copy of Quidditch through the ages. How he still found it interesting was a mystery to both Molly and Hermione since he had read it so many times in the past, surely it should be memorised by now.
"What is it?" Ron asked curiously, lowering the book, they'd given up trying to hear anything that the Order was talking about. Fred and George weren't as quick to giving up though - he was surprised his mum hadn't spotted them and given them what for. He wasn't about to tell on them, he'd rather not have their focus on him he was pranked enough without actually deserving it. Plus they had just bought him new robes, which he loved.
"Headmaster Dumbledore would like a word with you both, so come on down, lets not keep him waiting," Molly demanded, trying to usher them out of the room as quickly as possible.
Ron and Hermione turned to stare at each other in surprise before Ron closed his book with a thump and stood up. Hermione placed a bookmark in hers before she stood with less enthusiasm as Ron. Ron was dying to know what they spoke about at Order members and be part of it, she wasn't that excited. Although she understood Ron's point of view, since he was so sheltered that everything new was exciting and he was also extremely gullible, and believed everything he heard - fighting trolls anyone, was a prime example, who on earth would believe the twins?
Both of them followed behind Mrs. Weasley at a slow pace, not rushing around like Molly always did. They were in one of the second floor bedrooms, so it didn't take them long to walk down one flight of stairs and into the kitchen. Both of them slightly intimidated by the full room of adult wizards, although Hermione less so having spent more time with adults and less time with children her own age due to bullying because she wanted to do well in school and prove herself.
"Sit, sit," Molly said in her usual no nonsense voice before she closed the door and the wards were quickly put back into place so nobody could hear anything. She was quickly distracted by Dumbledore talking again, so much so that she failed to notice the little piece of almost translucent string attached to the bottom of the door.
"I assume you've heard about Harry's disappearance?" Albus informed both of them, looking old and weary, catching both their eyes and gleaming surface thoughts, just to make sure they knew nothing of anything Harry had planned - like running away to Merlin only knows where. All he got was concern, worry and fears from both of them; it seems they were just as much in the dark as the rest of them, he wasn't surprised but disgruntled all the same.
"Yes, Sir," Hermione said solemnly while Ron just nodded his head.
"Did he mention any of his plans this summer? Anything at all that might help us?" Albus said, gazing at them hopefully, it was so easy to manipulate those around him.
"No, sir," Hermione said staring down at the tabletop feeling guilty that she couldn't help the most powerful wizard in the magical world. She was terrified for Harry, Voldemort was back and he could be anywhere, he could be hurt for all they knew...the worst she couldn't bear thinking about.
"Does he ever mention anyone he knows that isn't at Hogwarts?" Albus asked, already knowing the answer, he had left nothing to chance when it came to Harry, not after he had defeated Voldemort as the prophecy dictated however temporarily he had known it to be. He had kept him watched very closely without knowing it all his life, all the while making sure the Dursley's did their job without going overboard. A little hit here and there was fine, but he had ensured Vernon knew never to go too far with the boy. He wanted him desperate for love and affection not broken and beaten down so badly by the world that he didn't care for anyone. He'd relaxed the reigns after his first year, content in the knowledge that the boy wouldn't defy him. So there was a small chance that he did know someone.
"Harry doesn't have friends in the Muggle world," Ron said giving the Headmaster a strange look, "His family starve him and keep him locked up, and when you said not to send him letters we couldn't even put some food in so he can at least get something to eat like we argued with you, Sir…maybe that's why he left?"
"RON!" Hermione hissed shocked, if Harry found out what he said he was going to be furious. They'd tried for years to get him to tell their Head of House, but he refuses to do it. She would have told Professor McGonagall herself if she thought that it would change anything. If Professor Dumbledore couldn't do anything about it when Harry spoke about it what could Professor McGonagall accomplish? The Ministry of Magic mustn't have the ability to take him from that house - he wasn't abused in a way that would suggest his life was in danger and he needed removed. Or so she believed, but her belief in adult figures was absolute - for now.
"That's why you asked for the food?" Arthur said surprised grasping a hold of his wife's hand, so she didn't explode - something she was very close to doing. She was slowly getting redder in the face, but Arthur was beginning to feel pain as Molly started squeezing at his hand in return - reminding him vividly of the times she had given birth - not that they were forgettable by any stretch of imagination. They'd thought Ron was beginning to have problems, since he usually asked just after dinner or lunch! And it was generous helpings they always had if nothing he and his wife always made sure there was more than enough to eat in their home. Harry had always been on the thin side, but considering he'd ate so well during his stay before his second year he assumed he was just one of those boys who could eat and never gain weight. Hearing what his son said alarmed him…had he gotten it so spectacularly wrong?
Severus arched an eyebrow surprised by the youngest male Weasley's words; perhaps his head wasn't so far up Dumbledore's backside that he couldn't see the reality in front of him. Severus had always viewed him as the dimmest Weasley; especially considering all his other brothers actually put forth an effort into their school work whereas he did not. The look he gave the Headmaster spoke volumes, but unfortunately he wasn't surprised that Dumbledore knew since he'd long ago found that out. Regretfully the boy wouldn't meet his eye so he couldn't see if he was knowingly a part of the manipulation against Harry or if he was unwittingly a part of it. Not that it mattered; they would soon be on different sides, hopefully, that's if the Dark Lord listened to him and didn't alienate Harry. It was becoming glaringly obvious that nobody could control him, he pretended to adapt like a chameleon and changed colours whenever it suited him. The only thing that was definite was the fact his magic wasn't as pure, he was a dark wizard or well on his way to being so.
In fact he prayed it was the case, he loathed working for Dumbledore, and the vow had put him into a very difficult position these past few months. If he could get out of this with his vow intact then he was all for it, the dark side was his home, or had been until his lord had went back on his word…or he thought he had.
"Yes, why do you think me and the twins told you about the bars in the shed?" Ron said he had hoped his parents would at least help him more…ask him to come again or send more food than he was able to get after asking for it. Instead they spent the last few months of the holidays last year in the Leaky Cauldron. It wasn't as if he could actually buy food to send to Harry. If anything he didn't understand why Harry didn't buy enough sweets to last him all summer - he had the money to do it. He would have done that if he could, in fact he was still slightly put out that he hadn't gotten any sweets during the ride home! But a smaller part piped in that he had just seen a school mate die, that wouldn't put anyone in the mood to eat sugary sweets. Scowling at his mature thoughts that were cropping up more and more often as he aged…especially after the whole thinking Harry entered the tournament thing.
Albus felt an argument coming on; perhaps bringing them into it hadn't been the best idea. The fact he had dared to speak out infuriated him, perhaps he would need to ensure his loyalty along with Mr. Potters when they found him. Which he was determined to do no matter the cost or time. "No, you have nothing to fear on that front, I made sure that they wouldn't do such a thing as soon as I learned about it." he told them firmly. "I ensured Harry's survival and safety first and foremost." at least Hermione Granger had a sense that he was doing what was for the good of the magical world.
Only he could mistake Grangers blind faith for him against the good of the magical world.
"We will be speaking about this further," Molly said giving Ron, Hermione and Dumbledore pointed looks. She couldn't believe she had been so stupid, poor Harry, starved by his family, thank Merlin she'd given the food to Ron when he asked. She only wished she'd given him more, it was horrifying to know what she knew.
Albus' heart sank, that was just fantastic, and he would have to deal with an overprotective mother hounding him. It didn't change anything, Harry would be going back to his relatives, he didn't care that the blood wards he'd harnessed himself all those years ago using Lily's blood as anchor were down. He would just put other wards up, and keep the Order members around the house should the worst happen. Honestly the boy was becoming more troublesome than he was worth, it was a good thing he was the only thing standing in the way of Voldemort or he would have done something about him the second he found him.
"I want you both to write to him to see if the owl can find him, see if you can convince him to return to the magical world, the Leaky Cauldron say. If he cannot get there, convince him to tell you both were he is, he is in danger the long he's out and he probably doesn't understand the gravity of the situation." Albus said gravely. "If the Death Eaters find him, I'm afraid all we will find is a body." he had to place the direness of the situation on the children.
"Albus!" Molly shouted angrily, how could he say something like that to them? They were fourteen years old for Merlin's sake.
"I agree, that is going too far," Arthur said grimly.
"They need to know the seriousness of this situation, especially if they get through to Harry, them being his friends there's a chance that they will," Doge said seriously, "Albus is right." as always sticking up with his old friend who had befriended him when nobody else would go near him as a child.
Hermione frowned, she wondered what was going on with her best friend right now, was he honestly safe? What if he was happy where he was? Getting food and being happy? Or was it what the adults feared? That he had been caught by Death Eaters? She wished she knew so she could feel better, especially about the fact she hadn't written to him. The headmaster knew best, they had to keep Harry safe, and owls could be tracked.
"Why should we write to him now? What makes it so safe to write now?" Ron asked petulantly, scowling at the table.
"Because nothing could put him in future danger, stupid boy!" Doge barked impatiently, seeing Albus looking stricken by the questions.
"Don't you dare speak to my son like that!" Molly snapped her eyes narrowed daring the elder wizard to say anything further. Nobody got to speak to her kids that way except her when she was angry at them. Even the rest of the Weasley's were glaring in warning, especially Bill and Charlie, they were very protective of their younger brothers and especially their sister.
"I was under the impression that the wards around Potters home kept him safe, that no Death Eater could get near them so why would it matter if they did happen to track a letter?" Severus drawled smoothly in his usual sneering tone, planting the first seed of doubt in their minds. All the while playing his part to perfection, spitting out the name as if it disgusted him to the core. He almost smirked at the shock that played across Grangers face, seed planted.
"Just an added precaution I felt necessary to keep him safe," Albus said placating, irritated by Severus' timing. At least Severus didn't care about the boy, but many others did. Neither Black nor Lupin was here, thank Merlin for that, he was also sick of their whining, and that Harry wasn't getting to stay at Grimmauld Place where it was safe. He would admit it was safer than anywhere else, but he needed the boy to die when the time was right, getting to know his godfather wasn't the way to go about that. "I think it's time to start our search again before it gets too dark," quickly getting this meeting over with before Molly could hound him. "Do you all know your locations?"
A murmur of agreements circulated the dirty rundown room they currently sat in.
"Very well, let's get to it, hopefully tonight we might just get lucky," Albus said, but even he was beginning to lose hope.
Everyone immediately stood up and began to vacate the premises, half going through the Floo one at a time or using the door and disappearing with a crack when they felt it was safe. Soon it was only a few people left and Severus deliberately winced as if in pain, his hand going to his left forearm as if he had just been called - which he had not but he did have an appointment to keep with the Dark Lord or rather Harry Potter.
"Go on," Albus said, the twinkle leaving his eyes, always feeling this way when Severus was called these days, due to the fact Harry was out there and away from his grasp and could easily have been caught.
Severus nodded grimly, getting perverse pleasure out of Dumbledore's fear; one had to wonder why he was even bothering to convince the Dark Lord to let Harry choose his side. If this kept up Dumbledore would soon have a heart attack and the light sides defences would all but crumble. Oh he knew Dumbledore was the only reason the order was really there, the rest of them weren't exactly leader material, especially without Harry on their side.
Severus stalked out of Grimmauld Place in his usual fashion and Apparated away once it was safe to do so.
He reappeared before the Dark Lord's manor, it truly was a sight to behold, nothing as extravagant as Malfoy Manor but there wasn't many places that were unless you counted Hogwarts and of course Gringotts. It certainly made his home look like a sorry miserable state, if he had been able, Severus would have chosen to live in the Dark Lord's library, and it was much grander than his with a lot more books that he was just dying to read.
As he walked passed the wards he felt it tingle over his skin, the Dark Mark allowing him entrance without needing specific permission to be there. Of course, someone could Apparate with another person who didn't have the mark and be granted entrance too. Sighing softly, he absolutely hated the Order meetings, they were more tedious than full Death Eater meetings, which only occurred when something big was about to go down.
As he made his way, he came across Nagini making her way through the grass hissing only what the Dark Lord and Harry Potter would understand. He just smirked at the female snake, not at all intimidated - unlike a few other Death Eaters he could name - mainly Lucius - he had heard the wizard squeak, actually squeak when coming into contact with the large snake. It had afforded him a great deal of amusement, if the Dark Lord's blanking expression was read right the same could have been said for him too.
Nagini it seemed was actually entering the manor, perhaps she had already caught whatever it was that she wanted? There was no bulge to indicate she had though, but he followed her nonetheless, it would be much quicker in finding the Dark Lord himself. But there were only ever a few places he had to check, since the Dark Lord knew when people entered his manor he was always available in his study, the grand hall or library if he was busy researching something. He was glad some things hadn't changed in this chaotic world he lived in.
Although in the later years of the war he would never have approached the manor unless he was called…that was how bad it had grown, he did wonder what the others were thinking of this version of their Lord. Were they as excited as he was? He couldn't help but ponder wryly to himself, things had been changing for a while and he had been oblivious to begin with…now that he knew his excitement continued to grow. He would need to be careful though, the last thing he wanted was to be caught and put in Azkaban.
Just then he heard a voice speaking just outside the hall. Both his eyebrows rose in shock, the boy truly didn't know what was good for him - nobody said no to the Dark Lord and went unpunished.
"No," Harry said simply, "I'm not using the killing curse,"
"And why not? You've used the other two, it might help you in sticky situations," Voldemort stated persuasively.
"I don't need the killing curse to get out of sticky situations!" Harry argued right back, "I've not needed them this far have I?" the taunt was evident in his voice, enough so that Severus felt his eyes widen expecting a 'Crucio' thrown at the teen any second now.
"You just might," Voldemort warned Severus didn't need to be in the room to be aware that the glare was enough to make the lower level Death Eaters pee their pants in fear. He moved closer watching the pair of them through the crack in the door, the power they could wield together would truly be breathtaking.
"I'll tell you what, I'll do the spell if you make it a certain rat," Harry said rather vindictive.
Voldemort smirked, the boy got too much amusement out of tormenting Wormtail, "What would you do every day instead?" he said wryly.
"Then I guess I'm not doing the spell," Harry said firmly, he knew he wouldn't be allowed to kill Pettigrew so he'd had no fear that Voldemort would have agreed. He didn't want to use the spell, it had been bad enough when Crouch disguised as Moody had used it. "I would rather use my own anyway, I've wanted to see them in action for years." he admitted changing the subject completely to get Voldemort off the subject of him using the bloody killing curse. He was fine with the Cruciatus Curse and the Imperius Curse but he wasn't about to ever cast 'Avada Kedavra'.
"Enter Severus," Voldemort snapped out as if he was furious, but he wasn't really, he had known the wizard was there the entire time - it was his manor after all. No, he had allowed it for one reason only to pacify the wizard without losing face and outright saying anything. He didn't want him running back to Dumbledore after all, he would have killed anyone else if it had been them, but he had wronged him, did something stupid and there wasn't a better Potions Master - he couldn't brew all the time he had other more important things to do.
"My Lord," Severus said cautiously, as he entered, still reeling from the conversation he'd heard. His face showed none of his inner turmoil or any guilt at having been found out eavesdropping, he wasn't a stupid wizard, Voldemort must have known he was there and allowed it for some reason. There was a reason to everything he did, he would figure out why he did sooner or later and could guess a few ideas.
"I want a few potions brewed, the list is waiting for you," Voldemort demanded.
"Of course," Severus murmured quietly.
"Potter, go with him," Voldemort added turning away from both of them, and sitting down no longer interested in either of their presences. "I wish to speak to you after you are done, Severus." it was a demand not a request.
Harry shrugged and pocketed his wand before leaving Severus of course right next to him. The walk to the dungeons was quiet but it wasn't an oppressive one. Once they were inside, he glanced at the list the Dark Lord had left, nodding briefly before moving to the store cupboard with a box and began to place all the ingredient jars he'd need into it. Potter he realized had followed him, and he quickly dumped the full tray in his arms before hefting out another one and also filling that up - but it didn't require every slot being used.
"What exactly have you been doing to Pettigrew?" Severus asked as he exited the cupboard and began to remove the first set of ingredients idly noticing that Potter was doing the same but for a different potion, the one to help exposure to Dementors specifically. Considering he had been able to successfully create and brew his own, he said nothing to him. Merely moved over and plucked a book from the small bookshelf that he housed his own books in and opened it at the appropriate page and handed it over. Half expecting him to reply but he didn't.
Harry accepted it, reading over the edits that had been made to the potion, "Will you edit mine?" he asked curiously.
"Perhaps," Severus replied, "If we have time."
Harry nodded happy enough with the statement. "As for what I've done to Pettigrew…not as much as I want to," he scowled, "He keeps stopping me from having fun."
Severus' lips pursed finding himself undeniably amused.
"Who would have thought Lockhart's crap spell casting would come in handy?" Harry said absently, grinning almost ferally as he began to further grind the unicorn horn pieces.
Severus frowned not understanding, until Harry began to mock hold his arm out his hand flapping as if it was useless. It brought the incident to mind rather quickly. He had removed the bones in Pettigrew's arm? It was just a shame that the bones could be re-grown so quickly. "Perhaps I should ensure there isn't Skele-Gro potion lying around." he said, causing Harry to laugh out in vicious delight, he didn't think he'd ever seen Harry truly laugh before…it was slightly alarming to acknowledge it couldn't be good for him with all this pretence. Did his friends even know the real boy behind the masks?
R&R Please