Embracing His True Self

Chapter 23

Voldemort strode through the north wing of his manor, which until now had been unused; it was now filled to capacity with his followers, who he had just released from Azkaban prison with the aid of his other faithful Death Eaters. Grant was in charge of overseeing their return to full health, with Barty and Pettigrew aiding him as per his demands. It was not decorated, but he had installed beds to ensure the comfort of those who had suffered Azkaban, for never denouncing their lord and Voldemort would reward their loyalty as he always did. Knowing where Grant was, due to the fact his wards let him know where everyone was, made easier by the Dark Mark etched upon their arms.

Opening the door, he observed Grant working, the wizard knew he was there, not only did he glance very briefly before getting back to work, but his magic was unmistakable, all his followers were very much aware of his presence. He never made any effort to mask his power, and why should he? He was the most powerful wizard in the magical world.

"How are they?" Voldemort demanded once Grant had finished with his current patient. The empty vials were removed by the House-elf, to be washed, sterilised and returned to the potions lab for further use.

"They have not yet woken, my Lord," Grant said respectfully, giving a low bow in deference. "It makes it increasingly difficult to ascertain their mental state. Their physical state is much easier to deal with at the moment. It is as I expected with such a long time incarcerated in Azkaban they are deeply malnourished, they will need Harry's potion for at least three weeks, and this is just a guess on my part, even with the stronger potion there is no knowing how long it will take for their physical recovery. They're covered in sores, infections which I've already begun healing. I have given each of them a dreamless sleeping potion, this will aid in their mental recovery and give them much needed sleep, as they are dangerously sleep deprived." with Dementors for company it was hardly surprising.

Voldemort nodded, he had expected as much.

"I will begin them on the potion tomorrow to aid in their healing of their mind due to the influence of the Dementors once the dreamless sleeping potion wears off. This will allow them to heal and naturally the potion causes the drinker to succumb to sleep for most part while the potion does its work." Grant continued a clipboard still in his hand, "This gives me the opportunity to heal their wounds, and a few have broken bones I'll need to deal with as well."

Voldemort narrowed his eyes, "And just how did their bones come to be broken?" he asked suspiciously, not believing it was Grant but rather the Auror's.

Grant understanding what was being asked, "Three seem to be breaks from throwing oneself against a wall, the other two…are from spells, I believe they occurred during their transference from the Ministry to Azkaban given the dates they were inflicted it adds up."

"The bones will be healed properly without damage?" Voldemort asked smoothly, his eyes gleaming maliciously, when he found out which Auror had lifted a wand to his people while they were already bound he would eviscerate them.

"That I do not know, My Lord," Grant admitted stiffening slightly, "I will need to re-break them and give them the potion. Only time will tell I am afraid."

"Use the House-elves if you need further help, only while the others are unconscious," Voldemort warned, he did not want them hurting or worse killing his House-elves, not that he particularly cared about their feelings, it would just be an inconvenience to him.

"Yes, My Lord," Grant acknowledged the order.

"Have you tended to them all?" Voldemort asked Grant, giving the healer a once over critically. His usually immaculate long brown hair was in disarray, half out of his ponytail; his clothes were covered in grime and blood. His face was paler than normal and he could see the strain the wizard was under.

"Yes, My Lord, and I will be alerted the moment they wake," Grant assured his Lord, he took his duties as a healer very seriously and he would see them recovered.

"Go shower, get something to eat and rest, you may use any room in this wing you wish," Voldemort demanded, he wouldn't be any good to anyone if he exhausted himself. He had already been up all night tending to them, without taking so much as a single break.

"Thank you, My Lord," Grant said, gratitude showing through, he had been thinking there was something different about him for a while now, but it was becoming more and more pronounced and glaringly obvious that he had changed. Not only in the way he would go about his goals, but he was staring to care about everyone again and that was a relief to him.

"Tish?" Grant called, writing hastily on the clipboard before placing it on the table nearest him.

"How can Tish be helping?" Tish asked, appearing before Grant, bowing to Voldemort who was her Master before eyeing Grant who called her - they'd all been told to go if Grant called, to treat him as if he was their Master.

"I need you to bathe everyone, remove their…clothes, clean them and mend them as best as you can…" Grant was cut off before he could continue.

"Burn the clothes," Voldemort stated sharply, his lip curled in repugnance those Azkaban suits were not fit for animals to lie on. "I will see to it that they have something to wear by tonight." he added flippantly. It would be easy enough to get Lucius to go into St. Mungo's and get a pile of the usual wear for patients they get while at hospital.

Once Grant was sure the Dark Lord did not intend to continue, he began to speak once more, "They will remain asleep, they've been given a potion, make sure they're kept warm."

"Tish will be doing this," Tish said, nodding her understanding eager to help.

"They will be awake in twelve hours; their stomach won't be able to handle rich greasy foods. Porridge will be the best thing for them, and dry toast." Grant added thoughtfully, it was best to tell them now rather than forget and find the House-elves had made a feast of greasy foods they just wouldn't be able to eat, and if did attempt so they would just end up regurgitating it.

"Yes sir!" Tish chirped eagerly.

"Instruct her on what you wish brought from your home, you will stay here for at least the first few days." Voldemort added, "That will be all." he stated before turning and swiftly leaving the room and the wing itself. There was no point to remaining, they would not waken for a while, and it would probably be longer still before they were in any way coherent enough to listen to him.

Despite the fact he had a lot to do, even after nearly three weeks the urge to enter his office or the training room at this time was day was strong - it was at this time every day that he had taught Harry some of the spells at his arsenal. Yes, some, he had been around a significantly long time, and it would take years upon years, even with him teaching, and Harry being a brilliant student to teach him all he knew. There was no denying he picked up spells with relative ease, especially those of the darker nature. It was annoyingly infuriating how much he missed the boy. His stubborn nature, the fact he argued, challenged him, it had been a long time since anything like that happened and he found himself relishing the moments between them.

He hadn't hesitated for a second in getting Clarence Moran to help Harry achieve his goals. The sooner the boy realized he belonged on his side the better. It had been by far the most difficult thing he'd ever had to do by letting the boy return to Hogwarts. Letting his Horcrux leave the safety of his wards. Yet he had taken Severus' words of warning to heart, he wanted the boy to join him and if it required Dumbledore helping ease the way who was he to deny that? It did give him a sense of feral satisfaction that Dumbledore was digging his own grave. He repeatedly made the same mistakes over and over again; it was as if the old fool didn't learn from his mistakes.

Entering his office, he took his usual seat; oh he knew why Dumbledore had done it. He'd wanted a weak malleable boy to mould into the perfect sacrificial saviour. He'd taken a risk, not wishing Harry to grow into a confident, powerful wizard he would have if grown up in his rightful world. It had backfired, and it amused him to no end, the duplicity of Harry's character was really something. He truly prayed he was there when the boys true character came to light, he would pay a great deal to see the look on the old fools face when he realized his world would come tumbling down around him.

Sighing in exasperation, whether he wanted to kill Harry or not, it seemed as if the boy was constantly on his mind. The worry he had felt for Harry had surprised him that night Umbridge had carved into his flesh. The woman would die, the first opportunity they had he was going to bring her here, let Harry deal with her himself. Seeing Harry at work was truly…breathtaking, he had a way with spells that made his work on traitors seem insignificant. He missed him, even when he was reading quietly in this office.

Scoffing at his absurd thoughts, trying to push Harry out of his mind - which by the way was utterly impossible to do. Lucius would hopefully succeed in creating a false trail for his new identity. Good enough that it would fool even the most intense scrutiny, starting with Durmstrang, old addresses and old jobs mostly abroad, but with money and the right incentive (whether it was manipulation or not) they did as Lucius wanted. Between that and looking for Greyback (who had been found) and his usual duties within the Ministry Lucius had been extremely busy.

He couldn't approach the Ministry with his current looks, even with Dumbledore booted out of the Wizengamot; he would find his way back. So some subtle changes would be required, with Dumbledore's popularity not what it used to be…he might actually be able to stick with the political route this time.

Drawn to the sound of an owl tapping at the window, he arched an eyebrow when he realized that it was Harry's owl. Flicking his wand lazily, he opened the window but the owl did not fly towards him as they usually did. This was the only place the owls could fly to; he had changed them slightly due to his getting in touch with others to gain allegiances. Before standing he knew the owl was evidently not for him. A snort left his lips, Bart, it was obviously for Barty, hmm, perhaps the mail was being watched - or just Harry's which wouldn't surprise him. Dumbledore would be desperate to know where Harry had spent his summer.

He called a house-elf to inform Barty of his…mail. He stared at the owl annoyance creeping into him, along with something he couldn't discern, jealousy maybe; he didn't like it either way.

Albus Dumbledore sat in his office, in his hand he held a missive from Gringotts, his blue eyes absent from their twinkle as he once more read the letter for the third time. He was furious, he had no idea how the boy had found out about his inheritance, and he had gone all out to ensure it never happened. He'd planned on the boy being dead before he found out at the age of seventeen where his power of attorney finished and before Harry claimed his Lordship. Not that he would have been the one doing the killing; no Harry would have walked to his own death by the time he was through.

Inhaling sharply, trying to reign in his magic, for so long everything had been going so smoothly, he had been so proud of his accomplishments where it came to Harry Potter. He was exactly where he wanted him, how he wanted him even at the age of eleven. He had seen Voldemort offer Harry a place at his side and saw the boy deny Voldemort even with the threat of death hanging over him. It had filled him with glee; Hagrid had truly done what was expected of him and filled Harry with thoughts that his parents loved him more than life itself. Which they did but Harry had to know so he'd never consider Voldemort at option.

Now in a single summer it had all gone to hell, he wasn't quite sure if he believed that Harry had been going from 'hotel to hotel' like he said, but there had been no sign of him lying either. Pursing his lips, caution crawling up his spine, he must find a way to deal with the boy, without causing too many ripples. He already realized he'd been a bit too hasty in his actions weeks ago. With Minerva's and the Gryffindor Quidditch Teams constant glares and disapproval he had reluctantly taken his word back. Not that it had accomplished anything, from what he understood the boy did not go back to the team. Instead Ginny Weasley had taken over as Seeker and Ronald was the Keeper. He didn't like that at all; the boy and Granger had to win back the boy's friendship. Being busy with Quidditch would absolutely not accomplish that. He'd compelled Granger so hopefully she would succeed on that front.

Pursing his lips, he glared at the letter his hand curling into a fist and causing the expensive parchment to crush in his hand. The unexpected intrusion of Goblins prevented him from getting his masks back up fully. He stood up at full height, his eyes strong and powerful, disapproval written all across his face despite the fact it was useless, the Goblins had never been intimidated by him.

It took all his composure not to move when they started summoning things from all over his office into the goblins waiting hands. He inhaled sharply, as the Potter Grimoire was found in his secret (not so secret now) stash behind the bookcase. The boy knew, he hadn't just taken on the mantel, he'd read the comings and goings of his vaults. Swallowing thickly, trying to regain his composure, seeing Severus standing in the doorway watching the proceedings cautiously helped a great deal in him regaining his bearings.

The goblins spoke in gobbledegook, smirking ferally, they had everything, and just like that the goblins piled out of his office and left without another word.

"Albus?" Severus stated, frowning.

"Come in, Severus," Albus said, his twinkle reappearing but not up to his usual standards. "What is wrong? Have you been summoned?" it was very unusual for Severus to come to his office without being prompted, and never in the morning before classes. Severus was more caustic in the morning so Albus always made sure to meet with him after dinner. He was difficult to deal with as it is without putting up with his personality this early.

"In a manner of speaking," Severus replied with his usual dose of sarcasm.

Albus peered at Severus through his half-moon glasses, "Meaning?" he enquired, reclaiming his seat acting as if nothing had happened.

"I have been summoned by the goblins," Severus revealed, noticing Albus' attention snapping up at that. "I've been summoned to the will reading of Lily,"

It took all of Albus' will power not to react in any way, but he would have been ashamed of himself if he realized the blood had drained from his face, leaving him paler than Severus on a bad day. "I see," Albus said in feigned casually. "When is it?" all the while wondering just why he hadn't received his own, glancing at the pile, perhaps he hadn't gotten to it yet he thought with dread.

"Saturday, at 1 PM," Severus replied, a confused perplexed look on his face, it was to be expected, after all Lily had died a long time ago and he was just now being invited to her will reading. He had already received his things, including a letter that had strengthened his resolve in keeping Harry safe. Ironically enough Lily had said she didn't even care if Harry joined 'You-Know-Who' himself, as long as he was happy and safe it was all she cared about. Reading it had given him Goosebumps, either perhaps she thinking that he would raise Harry to be one or it was just one of those exaggerated statements parents like to make. He wasn't sure which one gave him the most comfort.

"I'll bring it up during the staff meeting, I'm sure we can accommodate some of the teachers leaving for a few hours," Albus informed him.

"Very well, Albus, I must depart, breakfast will begin momentarily," Severus said smoothly, knowing if he lingered it would be terribly out of character. So with a nod, Severus swiftly turned around and walked back out of the office, using his wand to close the door as he did so.

Only once Severus was gone did Albus slump on the chair, his old wrinkled hand wiping down his face wearily. Merlin today had just started but he was already feeling tired and drained. Merlin how had this happened? He asked himself despondently. Reluctantly summoning all letters from Gringotts, a few from his in-pile flew at him, as consternation flowed through him.

The first one was opened hastily, a sigh leaving his lips; will reading, of both Lily and James Potter. He prayed the goblins hadn't revealed his decision to have the will sealed, but he had a feeling that it was exactly what they had done.

Placing the parchment down, he picked up the second letter, expecting it to be the goblins informing him that Harry wanted all his items returned. Instead, he found to his never ending horror, that Harry had closed down all the transfers he had coming out of his accounts. Which means the money for the Dursley's, Doge and Arabella had been stopped. At the moment the Dursley's and Arabella were of no consequence at the moment due to the fact they were missing. Doge however, would understand, he was very easy to manipulate.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, resignedly, there was truly nothing he could do. He could scarcely believe the Potter had threatened the Dursley's with Sirius Black. Perhaps he should have informed them of Black's innocence, it would have prevented them from running, and he would have known about Potter sooner. Cursing Vernon Dursleys lack of spine, he leaned back contemplating what to do next.

He couldn't deny the boy the right to go and attend his parents wills, but he would need to explain himself, cursing Potter to hell and back, he stood up, despite his anger, he placed his genial masks on, it couldn't do to let anyone see him furious. He had too much to deal with as it was, without this coming along.

Without another glance back he left his office, annoyance and worry his most primary emotions. It was time to eat breakfast in the great hall, he wanted to be glad it was Friday, but the knowledge of what tomorrow held - held it at bay.

"Harry!" Sirius called into the mirror, sitting on his bed, gazing desperately into the mirror. Despite his wanted status he had received a letter from Gringotts to attend the will reading. To say he had been surprised and horrified to receive it was putting it lightly, he'd thought the damn thing had been read - why wouldn't he? With him in Azkaban it wasn't as if he would have been let out to attend it.

"Harry!" Sirius called out once more, praying that his godson hadn't already went down to breakfast, it meant he'd have to wait like eight hours before he could talk to him.

"Silencio!" was the first thing Sirius heard other than his own voice, causing him to perk up. "Hey, Sirius, what's wrong?" Sirius felt guilty at causing his Godson so much concern, especially with everything he was already going through. He almost wanted to say 'nothing' and let him get on with his day.

"A-ah, did you…um…did you get a letter from Gringotts?" Sirius asked, not very subtle of him.

"About my parents will? I've not been to breakfast yet; I'll get it when I get down there." Harry said, watching surprise fly over Sirius' face much to his amusement.

"But how…you can't be…right?" Sirius stuttered a little flushed.

"Sirius, you're smarter than this, what happened last year?" Harry pointed out, smiling in amusement.

"Voldemort came back," Sirius said immediately.

"Yes, but before?" Harry pointed out, "Think the entire year."

"The tri-wizard tournament," Sirius added he had been so terrified for Harry all year; it wasn't something you tended to forget.

"Yes, unwilling participation or not…I became an adult, in the eyes of magic itself." Harry said, smugly. "You aren't going to try and attend the will reading are you?" he asked giving Sirius a warning look not to lie to him.

"Of course," Sirius blurted out confused as to why Harry would say something like that to him.

"No!" Harry stated sharply, "Promise me you will not go, I mean it Sirius, swear an oath on my parents graves that you will not attend!" he couldn't risk Sirius being captured, not when he was so close to being revealed as a free man. He didn't want to risk Dumbledore giving the Aurors Sirius' location. Dumbledore would do anything that much he knew.

"Why?" Sirius asked, hurt flickering through his eyes.

"Because I don't want you to be captured, just do this for me Sirius, I'll send you anything that's yours, from both mum and dad." Harry soothed away the hurt in Sirius' eyes, already knowing Sirius would do it for him.

"Alright, Harry, for you," Sirius sighed resignedly, understanding the reasoning more than he wanted to. "I swear I won't attend your parents will reading."

"Thanks, Siri," Harry said smiling at him, "You're looking a lot better," he was obvious sleeping better.

"I feel a lot better, that potion…it's bloody amazing, Harry!" Sirius admitted he wasn't overly fond of Potions mostly because of Snape and Slughorn.

"I told you," Harry said smugly. "But your thoughts…?"

"A lot clearer," Sirius said soberly, he hadn't thought this clear since Lily and James had been alive. All his memories had slotted into place, and he wasn't having nightmares about his time in Azkaban so much…and he could swear that his body felt warmer, like his soul had replenished after what the Dementors had done to it. He could feel positive emotions again properly, what he'd felt before had been pale imitations. "Harry I let you down so badly…I was in a dark place but that was no excuse…"

"Dark place?" Harry asked, already knowing, just wondering if Sirius would tell him, he knew because he'd seen it in Barty before the Dementor potions got given to him. He wasn't sure why he even called it a Dementor potion, it was actually a post-Azkaban potion but it was a bit on the long side.

"I never really noticed, you know, before I took the potions," Sirius confessed, being straight with Harry, treating him as an adult, he had been forced to come to the realisation that Harry hadn't been a child for a long while. The abuse…then everything he'd been through in the wizarding world. Scoffing inwardly, yeah, his godson was nowhere near a kid by anyone's standards. "My feelings were sort of dulled, the Dementors didn't half do a number on me, but I can feel things properly again, it's almost overwhelming," he admitted, rubbing his chest as if he could sooth away his intense feelings.

"Guess it sometimes gets a bit too much, huh?" Harry said genuinely feeling a little bit sorry for Sirius. "Have you thought about meditating?" he knew even as he suggested it - it would not happen, Sirius wasn't exactly the sit down and meditate kind. Then again that was before the potion, maybe he might calm down and stop being so foolhardy. He was waiting for Sirius to calm down some more before setting up his next round of manipulations by revealing more of Dumbledore, but obviously he wasn't ready for that.

Harry wasn't ready for the thoughtful look that came on Sirius' face at his suggestion. Maybe, just maybe…there was a chance after all.

"That might help," Sirius said quietly, every Black had been taught meditation, then they stepped it up to Occlumency lessons, but he'd ran before he completed them.

"I have to go, I'm starving," Harry said, "Give it a try alright? I'll talk to you tomorrow afternoon after the will readings,"

"Bye, Harry," Sirius said, watching as his godson disappeared from the mirror, breathing deeply, meditation, huh, well it couldn't hurt. Hopefully he'd be able to meditate with Molly Weasley's grating voice all around him. He would do whatever it took; it shamed him so much that Harry had been the one looking after him since he got out of Azkaban. Worse still it took Harry pointing it out to get through to him. No, it hadn't really been that, it was the potion.

He would do everything he could to prove to Harry he could be a proper godfather. Everyone else could go and screw themselves.

Harry joined everyone in the Great Hall, his green eyes gleaming brightly. The broach had finally been given back to Umbridge, he so hoped that he was there the first time it activated. He had spent two weeks on it, so that it was totally undetectable even by Dumbledore, they'd never sense anything from it. The short bursts of magic it emitted fused away after a few minutes stopping it from being detected. He'd also made sure his own magic wouldn't be caught either, the spells were his own making so he was not going to let anyone come to conclusions about him.

Sliding into his seat, he automatically began to plate up his food, true to his words to Sirius - he was absolutely starving, so he quickly devoured his food but kept his table manners thank you very much.

"Harry, I made the Quidditch team! I'm the keeper!" Ron said, his eyes sparkling excitedly, his chest puffed out proudly.

"This doesn't make us friends, but congratulations," Harry said, giving him a genuine smile and patting him on the back unaware of the twinkle that re-emerged from Dumbledore's eyes. "Bit of advice, dry toast only before your first match." old feelings stirred, but he refused to let it deter him. This was Ron's greatest wishes, as was being a prefect, he just wanted to be better than his brothers…well it looked as though he was succeeding somewhat. All you need to do is do better at your course work and get the grades to be an Auror."

Ron swallowed thickly, unlike everyone else he understood what Harry was talking about. The mirror of Erised, his eyes dimmed remembering what Harry had seen. His parents. Something he would never be able to get back. "Thanks mate," Ron croaked out, he'd always thought they'd be friends through thick and thin, now look at them, they might as well be strangers.

"Don't worry about it," Harry said, understanding what Ron was thinking about, and it did warm his heart that Ron could think of someone else other than himself from time to time. He always seemed to make it more about himself than anyone else.

The sudden shrill girlish scream caused everyone to jump, the scream continued, everyone was astonished staring at Delores Umbridge in confusion, some worried but mostly everyone watched her with sadistic amusement, especially those who had been attacked courtesy of her damn blood quill.

"STAY AWAY DISGUSTING CREATURE! I AM DELORES UMBRIDGE! UNDERSECRETARY FOR THE MINISTER OF MAGIC! AWAY I SAY! I'LL HAVE YOU IN AZKABAN IF YOU DON'T DESIST!" Umbridge shrieked, backing away, almost falling down off the teacher's platform, her face was drained of absolutely all colour, the smell of urine and excrement filled the air causing everyone near her to ditch their breakfast and back away from the suddenly crazy woman who had her wand drawn.

"What the hell…" Neville muttered, wide eyed.

"AWAY! AWAY I SAY! HELP ME! HELLLP ME!" Umbridge shrieked looking around at everyone, backing into the wall, one hand raised defensively near her head, the other still pointing her wand, but her entire body shook with terror. "DUMBLEDORE DO SOMETHING! DON'T LET IT GET ME! I'M THE UNDERSECRETARY FOR THE MINISTER!" curling in on herself, trembling as the feral werewolf pawed impossibly closer, she could smell its disgusting breath on her face.

It was too much for her, the terror caused her to pass out.

There was only one person not watching Umbridge as she passed out - Severus Snape. He was gazing shrewdly at Harry, suspecting that he had something to do with it. He had been far too complacent about her actions - especially considering just how vindictive he really was.

Harry smirked ferally for all of a second, and if anyone saw they would simply think they imagined it. After all Harry Potter did not go around smirking ferally, he wasn't evil after all; he was the savour of the wizarding world.

Severus suppressed a smirk of his own as Dumbledore swiftly made his way over to the unconscious witch. Waving his wand, everyone watched with bated breath wondering who had done it…since surely Dumbledore would know within the next few seconds. Yet as the spells continued, they began to realize…maybe, just maybe Dumbledore didn't know. The furrow on his brow gave even more credence to that theory.

Dumbledore sighed in exasperation, wondering what on earth was going on. There wasn't a spell on her, she hadn't ingested anything, nor injected with something. He was quite frankly puzzled, conjuring a stretcher; he decided to leave it up to Poppy to figure out. "Go to classes, come on, chop chop!" he said cheerfully enough, waiting until the students had vacated the Great Hall to go to class before he began to levitate her to the hospital wing.

R&R please