Embracing His True Self

Chapter 38

"My Lord," Severus murmured respectfully, never once raising his voice above a whisper, seeing that there was a delicate brewing stage happening before his eyes. Automatically his dark penetrating eyes, zoomed in on each of the ingredients, from what he could see it was some sort of healing draught, but which one wasn't known, not by the color, or consistency yet, he knew he'd probably figure it out by the ingredients within the package. Which, of course, reminded him, he silently slid the package onto the bench that they - both his Lord and Harry - were working on.

Voldemort finished the brewing stage, eyeing Harry who was currently dealing with the next ingredient that was about to be immersed in the potion. Once he was confident that Harry would finish in time to add it, he began to remove the packaging from the parcel. Amused by Severus' attempts to feigning impassivity, but when it came to potions, Severus' desires were more pronounced.

It was his one weakness, except of course, Lily and Harry.

Once Voldemort had the vial of tears open, he ran a standard test on their purity, not that he required it. His contacts knew better than to even consider trying to con him out of money. He had been warned about the result of such a thing occurring, torture and death. He would never allow himself to be done by anyone. As always, he receives the best, or what exactly he asked for. The tears were pure.

"The Consanesco healing draught," Severus murmured to himself, the moment he caught sight of the pearly phoenix tears immersed in the vial in the Dark Lord's hand. He still found himself surprised by Harry's competence, despite the fact he had brewed with him. It would take a while for him to come accustomed to it, for the past four years the boy hadn't been able to brew a decent draught to save himself.

"It is," Harry replied busy immersing the next ingredient into the potion, before flicking his wand, and the stirrer began to stir the potion counter-clockwise ten times.

The urge to ask why was strong, and he would have done so if the Dark Lord hadn't been present.

That potion was not given out freely, and it was most definitely a difficult brew and for only those in bad way. He could not think of anyone that could be so badly off that they would need this draught. Nobody the Dark Lord knew or even Harry come to that. Harry's circle of those he cared about was very small, perhaps five or six, depending on his feelings for the Weasley's. He knew, just because Harry had switched sides, that he hadn't stopped caring for those on the opposite side from him now. That wasn't the way it worked. Though Harry had made a stand and a decision that differed from those he cared for.

"That is all, Severus, take your leave, we do not want suspicion accumulating, no doubt he's wary as it is," Voldemort easily dismissed Severus, as he placed the vial of phoenix tears upon the desk. They would not come into play until much later, once the potion itself was nearly complete.

"It's foolish to think he ever stopped," Harry snorted derisively, "And it's nothing to do with your acting, Snape, don't get your pants in a twist," not even needing to glance up to know the Potions Master had taken it upon himself to feel slightly insulted.

Voldemort valiantly and successfully managed to keep his face impassive. He wasn't sure why, but the fact that Harry could so successful wind up his most poker-faced Death Eaters so amused him. Not limited to Lucius and Severus, but those were by far the most amusing thus far. He would eventually annoy the wrong one and would be on the receiving end of some pretty powerful curses. He wasn't sure the warning he had given them would be enough, not with the boy's attitude. He knew well enough, he even goaded him on occasion. It was as though he held no fear, or care if he lived or died.

"This is Dumbledore we're talking about; his secrets have secrets. He has plans on top of plans, and last but no means least, he leaves absolutely nothing to chance." Harry rolled his shoulders as he straightened up, stretching out getting the kinks out of his back and neck. "He's fucking good at getting to you,"

"Agreed," Severus replied, his eyebrow arched in his Lord's direction, silently wondering what was up. Or if this was just a normal thing these days where Harry was concerned. Unfortunately, with him being at Hogwarts, he had no way of knowing Harry's state of mind most of the time.

Voldemort however, suspected Lupin was why Harry was so angry at Dumbledore at the moment. Perhaps pondering on how he managed to get the werewolf to feel so ashamed of who and what he was that he'd swallow the swill that was slowly killing him. Or perhaps he was feeling everything coming down on all sides, seeing everything the old fool had done. There was a big difference knowing some of what Dumbledore had done to you and knowing everything.

Perhaps he should have them duel for a while, get rid of that pent-up aggression.

Severus gave a nod before departing, making his way back up the stairs out of the dungeons and regretfully Apparating back towards Hogwarts.

Harry wasn't wrong, Dumbledore probably did suspect, and he wasn't going to give him cause to question his loyalty.

He couldn't wait until the end of the year approached, which it was doing so, at a snail's pace.

"You're back early," Rodolphus commented, seeing his father wandering into the library. They hadn't expected him for at least another half an hour. "Weren't the COM due to oversee a trial?" COM being Council Of Magic of course. Which Lord Rabastian Lestrange, was part of, along with his being on the Hogwarts Board of Governors.

"It was a quick one, some idiot thought he could use magic in front of the Muggles without consequence." Rabastian complained, irritation written all over his face. "At least the Wizengamot didn't decide to muscle in again." The Wizengamot were beginning to annoy him greatly, he was getting to the point he couldn't stand it.

Rodolphus snorted in amusement, "I have a funny feeling you'll like dealing with the Wizengamot again."

Rabastian stared at his son, giving him a look that said, 'explain immediately' "Where is your brother?" noticing that Rabastan was nowhere to be seen. It was very rare that the brothers weren't joint at the hip.

"Bathroom," Rodolphus explained, "You remember the woman you couldn't stand?" of course, he could remember her, he kept complaining about her after each visit to the Ministry. To begin with it wasn't TO them, they just overheard. The more they recovered, the less worried their father was and thus he complained to them too.

"What about her?" his mood souring just thinking about the disgusting witch. Feeling the aches in his old bones, he wandered over and claimed a seat opposite his son, who was sitting with a book unopened on the table. He was so glad that his sons were doing better, he'd feared the worst when he first saw them upon their release. Albeit illegal release at that.

"What was her name?" Rodolphus asked already knowing, he'd described her very unflatteringly, or so he had assumed until he got a glimpse of her. Then he'd hastily agreed with his father, if anything he was being too kind.

"Dolores Umbridge," his mouth curling unpleasantly. Who was always too eager to give her working title as if it made her better than she was. The truth of it remained, she was just a jumped up, Half-blood woman whose mother was a Muggle. Oh, the woman had paled so much when he mentioned knowing her father. Then she'd done the worst thing she could have, mentioned his sons. From then on in, he'd worked hard to try and get her sacked. Nobody said anything about his sons and got away with it.

Rodolphus laughed darkly, eyes gleaming wickedly. "You should visit the dungeons," he told his father smugly.

"Why would father care about the dungeons?" Rabastan questioned, as he finally made his reappearance.

"Yes, answer your brother, why would I care to visit the Dark Lord's dungeons?" Rabastian teased, Merlin, he had missed this. If only they had told him what they were going to do, he would have put a stop to it. Cursing the Longbottom's into insanity, what on earth did they think that would accomplish? It wouldn't help bring the Dark Lord back, and it left a little boy an orphan and landed them in Azkaban for life. Wasted the prime of their lives, and the Lestrange name might now end with them. A long proud lineage gone. Bellatrix certainly didn't seem to want a child, which certainly seems like a good thing, if it wasn't directly affecting his line. Rabastan may be his only hope, if anyone would forgive his past mistakes. What mistakes they were, by Merlin, he'd tortured a man and woman into insanity, who would want to marry someone like that? They'd be terrified it would happen to them too. Thinking he had some sort of anger management problem or worse, inability to stop himself using dark spells like some sort of novice.

"Umbridge did something to piss off Harry Potter," Rabastan told his father as he wandered fully in and sat next to his brother.

"Which was what?" Rabastian asked, eager to know more about Harry Potter or rather what Umbridge could have done. Then he wanted to know what exactly she had suffered through here, whatever it was, it wouldn't be pretty.

"You know something…we have absolutely no idea," Rodolphus mused after glancing at his brother, both coming up empty. "Either way the boy is totally ruthless, from what we've learned."

Rabastian nodded thoughtfully, "Where is the Dark Lord?" he asked, changing the subject, he had nothing further to say or wanted to hear about Umbridge or Potter for that matter.

"Probably still in the dungeons, brewing," Rodolphus shrugging absentmindedly. "He's asked not to be disturbed, so you'll need to give your report later." He cautioned his father.

"Has the Dark Lord spoken to you about Harry or his lineage yet?" Rabastan was the one to broach the subject, unsurprisingly. He was the most excited about the new find, and he was sure his father would be as well.

Rabastian noticed his use of Harry instead of Potter and immediately became suspicious. He still wasn't sure what to make of Potter's change of heart. It seemed a bit too convenient if you asked him. He had seen him in passing but had not interacted with him. He certainly wasn't how he imagined him. "Why would the Dark Lord feel the need to talk to me about Potter?" asked the baffled father. Rodolphus was looking resigned, after rolling his eyes in exasperation. Potter was friends with Neville Longbottom if the rumours were true, he couldn't see his sons and the boy would interact except with scorn.

"Lily Evans was the granddaughter of Marcus Evans, who before he was adopted was Marcus Lestrange," Rabastan explained, watching his father's face explode with shock before going sickeningly pale. Not surprising really, families didn't like to admit they had squibs in their lineage it was one of their greatest shames.

"That's not all," Rodolphus added, "He also has Black, Malfoy, and Slytherin blood rushing through his veins." His brother was nodding vehemently beside him.

Now that it was mentioned Rabastian remembered that one of the Potters had married a Black a few generations ago. Most people didn't keep track of the females in family lines. Once they were married off it truly didn't matter to most families. They no longer had the family name, but of course, despite that the blood still lived on.

Apparently the same could still be said for squibs. He couldn't believe that magic had reappeared in the line…he was a squib, Marcus Lestrange had been a squib. He'd been taken into the Muggle world and abandoned, left to fend for himself. Yet he'd had a family and that family had magic? It was no coincidence.

"We aren't the only ones left," Rabastan said, his tone mild and soft, he had known his father's fears. He wished he could make them go away, but it wasn't as if he could go out and get married and have heirs that his father so desperately wanted. He was still a wanted man so to speak, even at that, what woman would want him? He knew his own reputation, he knew most women wouldn't want to look at him twice because of something he had impulsively done as a young boy. Ironically enough, he had only cast the spell once or twice, and only for a few seconds while questioning them. It was Bellatrix that had gone completely insane. Then suddenly all four of them were being arrested, sentenced to Azkaban. He'd thought Barty had died in Azkaban and had been so envious of him for getting away from the black rot of torture that was Azkaban.

Rabastian scoffed, "The boy wouldn't take the Lestrange name, it's tarnished beyond cleaning," he said bitterly, but their name had been down the drain for so long, and most hadn't cared. Leta Lestrange, his aunt, had not helped matters either. Nobody seemed surprised by the 'depravity' of which the Lestranges were capable, he'd overheard once.

"Haven't you heard Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange are dead," Rodolphus stated sharply, "We can begin anew, all that's required is a deep enough back cover and we're golden."

"And will you leave Bellatrix and marry another? Continue the family line?" Rabastian asked his son, already aware of the answer.

"I made vows, father, vows you forced me to take, I will not abandon them," Rodolphus declared. He was many things, but he wasn't a vow or oath breaker. He remained loyal to Bellatrix even if he suspected she wasn't to him. Till death do them part.

Rabastian pursed his lips, he doubted his son would ever let him forget about that. He had been unaware of her…mental instability at that point in time. He'd just been very pleased to have a match for his son. To join the Black and Lestrange name together. Two pureblood families, very sure it would create a very powerfully magical child. The Black family had kept Bellatrix out of the limelight, there were always cousins and her sisters surrounding her. It hadn't become apparent until after the honeymoon that there was something missing. Something that his son had tried to keep from the public as well. He had taken up on himself to keep control of his wife, finding it humiliating if he couldn't or didn't. The one time he had been angry enough to follow her lead he'd ended up in Azkaban. He honestly believed that Bellatrix Lestrange couldn't have children. He'd demanded that she go to a healer and find out. She'd just completely ignored him.

Rabastan watched the byplay between his father and brother, it was an old one, familiar even. His father totally regretted matching Bellatrix to Rod. It was probably why he hadn't set up a marriage for him, either that or the fact he wasn't born first, wasn't the 'heir' to the Lestrange name. No, he was what most people would call a spare, but he had been no less loved and cherished by their father and mother.

"Hey, you should see this," Barty grinned as his head popped around the door, "Sir," he added, nodding his head at Lord Rabastian Lestrange.

"What's going on?" Rodolphus queried loudly since Barty had already left after saying his piece. He stood up just as Barty's head popped back around.

"They're having a duel," Barty said, with a bright devious boyish grin that nobody had seen since their incarceration. With that Barty was gone again, not lingering around, he didn't want to miss it.

Nobody needed to ask who 'They' were, it obviously meant Potter and the Dark Lord.

The brothers glanced at each other in surprise, they hadn't had a chance to see Potter in action. They'd heard about the short fight he'd had with Avery Junior, they'd need to think of new names soon since there would be three generations serving the Dark Lord. Avery senior, the oldest, ages with their father. Then there was Avery junior, who had gone to school with them. Then of course, there was the son, still in Hogwarts for the moment but would be initiated after he leaves Hogwarts. The short duel with Avery had seen Harry Potter getting the better of Avery Junior, a wizard their age, who hadn't gone to Azkaban but evidently let his skills slip.

Rabastan stood, and both brothers immediately made their way towards the duelling room. They knew the Dark Lord was teaching the boy, but not what or how much. They'd also never actually seen any of the training. The fact Barty told them meant the door was not only open they were being given permission to see it.

"I wonder why," Rodolphus whispered quietly as they slid into the room, staring at the sight in front of him surprised.

"It's a warning," the elder Lestrange informed them with amusement. Standing behind his sons observing the duel as well. Ignoring the jump that accompanied his words, they were still jumpy. "To everyone that he can look after himself. Can keep up with the Dark Lord in a duel, better than most, powerful too, would you look at that spell work?" awe coated Lestrange's words.

Rabastan swallowed as he watched the duel, he didn't think he would have been capable of this before he landed in Azkaban. Now though, the way they were moving, in sync with each other, anticipating the others move, bobbing and weaving…his body wasn't capable of that. Not yet at any rate but he swore one day he would get back to how old capabilities at least. Seeing this made him want to do better.

"I miss being able to do that," Rodolphus grumbled, unhappy with his own shortcomings.

"You heard the healer," Rabastian warned his sons, "Get better first, do the exercises, try and overdo it, you'll only end up at square one. That will not impress the Dark Lord, Bellatrix should be a prime example of that, how many times has she discarded the healers words?"

"I guess," Rodolphus sighed, Bellatrix had been set back twice, she thought with the Potions they were miracle workers and she'd not have to do anything the healers said. Even the Dark Lord's warning didn't seem to be headed. She wasn't too bad, but she wouldn't be able to do the sort of the duel the Dark Lord and Potter were doing. His father was right though, the duel was something else. It shouldn't surprise anyone, he was a Lestrange after all, with his Black, Potter and Slytherin blood added to the mix made for a wicked combination if you asked him.

"There is no guessing," Rabastian retorted seriously, "Stick to it, Grant knows what he's talking about. You'll be in decent shape soon enough. You've taken all the steps so far, don't deviate now." They were in Azkaban for over a decade, so of course, it would take time. They were feeling a bit useless, he understood that, but they couldn't expect miracles. Although the potions they'd been given had been a miracle itself, it helped them so much in the beginning. He hadn't expected such a recovery, he should speak to Grant about that, find out what the potion was, see if he wanted investors. The comeback would make the investment worthwhile.

"Lacero!"

"Sanguinem ferentis!"

"Crucio!"

"Predictable!" Harry taunted him as he ducked away from the oncoming spell, "glacies colligunt!" sending dozens of ice picks towards the Dark Lord. The ice picks were extremely thin and dangerous, can cause as much damage as a spear or knife.

"Scutum murum!" Voldemort shot up a shield wall to cover the spell, causing the ice picks to shatter as they met the wall and disappear as if they'd never even been called forth. He was rather enjoying himself, it wasn't often he was able to let loose, people were too scared of him to truly try and beat him. That and they just didn't have the stamina or guts to use half the spells Harry was right now. To add to it, Harry was taunting him, this caused a surge of competitive adrenaline to course through him. "Praetrunco!" slashing his wand in a sideway motion towards Harry's leg.

"Concido!" Harry nullified the spell and sent another one back. "Bombarda!"

"I'll give the boy credit where credit is due," Rabastan admitted in awe, "He's quite fascinating," he had never seen anyone keep up with his Lord before. Bellatrix may have stood a chance before Azkaban, Severus may be able to if he was willing perhaps even Lucius. His father was completely stunned, so he doubted anyone from his generation would have done it either.

"How long has he been training?" Rabastian scrambled to say, the way they were dancing around each other spoke of years of experience. Had they all been duped for years? Yet it couldn't possibly be any longer than a year at most since the Dark Lord had just returned then.

"Two months before he returned to Hogwarts for his fifth year," Barty scratched his jaw absently, "He's just back as you know. Now his training has started back up again." Not that the Dark Lord had much he could teach him.

Hearing parselmagic Rabastian nodded, the Dark Lord had him now. Only to freeze in astonishment when the boy did Parselmagic right back. Of course, he had Slytherin blood running through his veins. Two months and he had parcelmagic down to a tee? Able to keep up with the Dark Lord this way? It was mindboggling, it truly was. The more he learned today the greater his desire for a drink…or ten.

"Bloody hell! He knows Parselmagic?" Rodolphus gaped, "Are you sure he was only here for two months?"

"He's always picked up the Dark Arts quickly," Barty explained in amusement, "He learned how to do the Patronus Charm in a handful of lessons when he was thirteen. He beat my Imperius curse, could throw it off completely after three times last year."

Rabastian felt faint hearing that, quite honestly his entire world was being spun on its axis.

"He's stronger than he looks, hell he managed to run, dodging between headstones and get away from the Dark Lord after being under the Cruciatus Curse twice." Barty added, his admiration clear. "Bet my scores too, smart as hell, keeps it all hidden though."

The three Lestranges remained silent, reeling over everything they'd just been told. Still having the right mind to watch the duel. They could see that they were beginning to tire. Sweat was beading up on their foreheads and they weren't as quick to manoeuvre into position. Their hands remained steady despite the fact their legs and arms were shaking a little with the strain. That probably had something to do with the Parcelmagic.

"Obfula!" as one they all winced when the spell made contact, with Harry Potter, completely severing his leg from the knee down.

Almost immediately after Harry crumbled on the ground, the Dark Lord was using spells to stem the flow of blood and reattach the limb. "Denuo,"

"You really need to find new spells!" Harry grumbled, wincing in pain as his leg was reattached. "I'm beginning to feel like humpty-dumpty at this point." Wiping his brow remaining where he was lying panting wiggling his toes just to make sure everything was working as it should.

"Be grateful I reattached it and didn't leave you to do it yourself," Voldemort retorted.

Harry smirked wryly, not even gracing Voldemort with a reply, they both knew that Voldemort wouldn't do anything to kill him.

"You did well," Voldemort admitted, ignoring the gasps of shocks coming from the end of the room. "Remembered more than I thought you would."

"That's me alright, always getting underestimated," Harry admitted, green eyes gleaming darkly, "Works well for me, so I won't be found complaining." Sliding his wand into his holster, breathing evenly as he flexed his body, trying to stop it from ceasing up. If that happened, he wouldn't want to move for hours. Not something he can do while he had the potion to brew. Tonight, Remus would have the potion and it would start the process of healing the damage he'd willingly done to himself for years. Honestly, for someone who was supposed to be smart, he could be utterly dense sometimes.

"Certainly, you had me fooled," Voldemort stated, still staring down at the teen. He was remembering Harry Potter's first year. Which he had been there for, he had possessed Quirrell, to make sure he didn't screw up again. At that point the boy actually didn't know much, per his own admission, but he knew enough to talk the hat into putting him into Gryffindor when he was one of Slytherin's heir and had clear Slytherin attributes. Which were constantly twisted by everyone wearing their rose-tinted glasses to mean something else completely. The two versions of the boy were still jarring when he thought about it. The fact he hadn't known was what truly bothered him. He had seen through Dumbledore for Merlin's sake, an eleven-year-old kid should have been easy.

He'd fooled everyone, and he was so very glad to have the boy on his side.

"Did you continue your training when you returned to Hogwarts?" Rabastian asked, as he walked over to the Dark Lord and Potter. Inclining his head in respect to his Lord, as he claimed a seat and moved it closer to the two. He was able to get away with more disrespect than his sons due to his being one of the original Death Eaters.

Rabastian stiffened when those glacial green eyes met his, then they blatantly roamed over him. clinical detachment, judging him, it reminded him of the looks the Dark Lord used to grace everyone with in the safety of Slytherin common room back when they were teens.

"Yes," was the answer after a few tense moments.

Rodolphus had been unobtrusively watching both his father and Potter as well as the Dark Lord. This was probably the longest he had been in Potters presence. Breakfast included, on the very rare occasion where they'd been there with the boy. He'd never had quite such an off-putting presence like he did right now. Merlin, was the boy really just fifteen? The power, the attitude, the abilities, they screamed of someone older. Decades older as a matter of fact.

The Dark Lord was merely amused, observing not only their reaction to Potter but Potter's reaction to them. The Dark Lord never looked that way, sometimes he looked sadistically proud, darkly amused, beyond enraged, dementedly demanding but never this way. Once again, he couldn't help but wonder how much things were changing. They'd rarely been cursed, in fact he'd only seen a few people hit with the curse since the Dark Lord's return.

Barty meanwhile hung back watching everything used to the constant hum of amusement that surrounded him with Harry around. Harry might only be fifteen, but he was quite quickly becoming his favourite person. Dare he say one of his best friends, he didn't know if the teen felt the same way. He hadn't needed to write while he was away at Hogwarts, but he had, and Barty had genuinely came to look forward to the witty retorts and remarks that came with his missives.

"Finally," Harry sighed as he began to move his leg more steadily, stretching it languidly. Wincing at different aches and pains made themselves known as he tried to stand.

Voldemort rolled his eyes but held his hand out, grasping a hold of it before hosting the teenager to his feet. He had gained some height, getting taller, but not as tall as him. Harry came to his chin, not that he was short. He was just naturally very tall, something gained from the Gaunt side, side the Riddles had been on the short stature side of the height.

"Thanks," Harry murmured absently, forcing himself to think ugly thoughts, slugs, Dumbledore in a tutu. Anything to stop himself from thinking of his dreams, which Tom's fingers featured prominently sometimes. He could feel where Voldemort had touched still tingling. Breathing evenly, tentatively stepping on his now uninjured leg. Testing it out, but all seemed well, it usually did after something like this. He was sick of losing his limbs in duels with the Dark Lord though.

Harry flicked out his wand and cleared up the blood that was drying on the floor. He needed a shower, he was coated in sweat and blood, Merlin knows what other bodily fluids that had come out of him. His pant leg which had been severed along with his leg, also got banished, there was no point to trying to salvage it, it was just a pair of trousers anyway.

"Here, drink it, go shower, you have thirty minutes," Voldemort shoved a blood replenisher into his hands.

Harry nodded in silent agreement, he'd planned on it anyway, and with that he wandered out of the room without so much as a goodbye to anyone.

Leaving the three Lestranges gaping at his blatant show of disrespect.

An exasperated Voldemort, who couldn't help but be slightly amused by everyone's constant reactions to Harry's actions.

Barty just sniggered before he sauntered out of the room, it became a full blown laugh as he cackled himself away down the corridor.

There we go! This chapter was near impossible to write! It just wouldn't write itself out, the first half was done ages ago, I just couldn't think on how to continue it...and for me that's near enough impossible! I can't stand leaving unfinished chapters it so rarely happens! Anyway, I went on today and it just wrote itself out now that is even more annoying LOL! I know you're probably eager to see Voldemort/Harry together, but it won't happen until Harry is sixteen maybe even seventeen...it just depends on how cooperative the muses/characters are being :D he will be sixteen soon anyway :D will we see Harry attending Draco Malfoy's sixteenth birthday or will Draco be attending Harry's and having it all come out then? Read and Review please!