Embracing His True Self
Chapter 75
The moment the trial was over with, Harry and Voldemort waded through the crowd, and Harry suddenly jerked Voldemort away from the crowd and near a corner, when he observed it was empty he immediately covered both of them with the invisibility cloak.
"I had Dobby collect it while I was in the bathroom earlier," Harry whispered lowly, as he erected a silencing spell, "We can talk without worry, now…will he be transferred back to his cell, do you reckon?"
"He may well be with his lawyer, if that's the case it will be the second floor," Voldemort mused thoughtfully, "If not, then the cells it is." Which was significantly lower than the second floor, and much harder to get to, and they would need to use the stairs. The lifts are always too full and they would be discovered within moments.
"Second floor first then," Harry agreed, and despite the restrictive material being over them, they moved in sync, able to move without irritating one another under such confinement.
"You are aware this might take all night?" Voldemort stated, he rather detested waiting, although he certainly had learned a lot of patience these days, and joy of all joys it really worked when it came to his plans.
"Yeah, but we cant let the Ministry find out about that potion…can you imagine what the Unspeakables would do to get their hands on it?" Harry shuddered. They'd want to test it, keep records of it until eventually it would just slip right into the wrong hands. No, they knew going in they'd have to do this before Dumbledore was put on the stand under Veritaserum.
Not only that but they had to make sure they had all vials.
"Indeed," Voldemort agreed, it would be unwholly unacceptable for them to have it. Luna had been clear that nobody should have it, and he was rather inclined to listen to the seer. Her advice would always be…adhered. Seers were renowned for their wisdom, and it was best to listen.
Once the hallway cleared, Harry opened the door to the stairway, and both he and Voldemort slid by closing the door carefully. Making their way back to the second floor. Now the second floor was naturally very busy, it was the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, which meant Bones, Aurors, and lawyers, prosecutors and Defence, busy with their day.
"…next case?"
"What time?"
"One hour and twenty-minutes…court room…2,"
"It's a hearing about a fine… shouldn't take more than ten minutes…"
"Here's your paperwork, all set,"
Dozens upon dozens of voices all still working away, preparing for the next part of their day. Although, they both knew it would begin winding down soon, the day was almost over with, and trials were not held in the dead of the night.
"Is Madam Bones in her office?" asked a witch clearly harried as she exited the lift.
"Yes, but she's having something quick to eat and catching up on paperwork…" her assistant explained, "I'm sorry but if she doesn't get it done she won't go home tonight again!" and it wasn't her being selfish, and desiring to go home, Madam Bones always let her go after a few hours overtime, which she didn't mind at all, her husband didn't finish work until a few hours after she did anyway.
"Well…I'd rather not go back down there and tell Dowager Longbottom she won't be seen." Squeaked the absolutely terrified witch. "She's demanding her presence immediately, I think it might be an emergency."
"Dowag…" she blinked stupidly, before getting swiftly to her feet, giving the witch a 'wait there' gesture with her finger, as she made a beeline for her bosses office. "Ma'am? I'm sorry to disturb you, but there is a Dowager Longbottom requesting to see you immediately."
"Augusta?" Bones blinked, now why on earth would she need to see her? "Bring her up, do not make small talk, don't try and slow down for her, but if she talks…then speak to her." Giving her assistant some advice on how to deal with the woman.
Her assistant bit back 'why me' that was on the tip of her tongue. That would be a quick way to lose your job, so without more ado, she nodded and quickly departed.
"Will we stay and listen?" Harry pondered, a wicked grin on his face, as he often thought, he liked Augusta Longbottom, and if he didn't know what she'd done to poor Neville growing up…he would have liked her a whole lot more.
"While it would be amusing, we really must get going, Dumbledore will be strongly protected from outside influence. It will take a significant amount of time to get them torn down and that's without tripping the alarm, and I have little doubt they will have guards also ensuring no funny business."
Harry smothered his amusement at hearing Voldemort say 'no funny business'. "Alright, let's head to the offices," where lawyers confer with their clients, that's if Dumbledore had even been brought here…he might already be in the cells.
They had to wait an entire thirty minutes before the department was silent and not a soul was stalking the halls. Voldemort was swift in his casting, and within moments they could see into every single room in the entire department.
"I can't see him," Harry said, his eyes roaming over every single person he could see on the left side, while Voldemort did the same on the right.
"Nor I, it appears we will have to go to the cells after all," Voldemort said entirely put out by the delay they were going to have to endure.
"Well, you never know, they might not have anything other than basic wards…" Harry pointed out, "I mean come on, we might be giving the Ministry too much credit."
Voldemort chuckled a little at that, "Very true," he conceded, but he liked to think they had taken the appropriate precautions when it came to Dumbledore.
"Well, come on then, let's go," Harry sighed, resigned to a very long night, although the less mind tampering they had to do the better – especially against a lawyer – who no doubt surely had some sort of defence against someone manipulating his mind. Then again, who says lawyers are smart enough for that forethought?
Since they knew the overall layout of the Ministry of magic, it didn't take them long to get down to the lower levels. They did however, stop every few moments in order to ensure there were no magical Hijinx or traps laid out.
It took them a pathetic three minutes to have the entire ward scheme for the cells torn down, while freezing the alert spell so that nobody was informed that, A, they were there, B, the wards were removed and C, who they were. They even had 'clean' wands so to speak, so that their magical signature wasn't recorded.
"Merlin…even Dumbledore's plans were less easy," Harry said, utterly bewildered and entirely suspicious. "That can't be it…must be a false sense of security, right?"
"We'll find out," Voldemort declared, stepping forward, wand sweeping in circles, as he sought out any spell work. The further they got in, the more baffled the look on Voldemort's face was. Surely, surely not, had all his worries about being unable to take the Ministry by brute force all those years ago for naught? He'd honestly thought the wards in this place would be the strongest right up there with Hogwarts. Hogwarts just marginally less so, due to the fact children inhabited it nine months out of the year.
Harry, Voldemort noted in approval, was doing the exact same thing, due diligence, nothing showed up. Although it was getting annoying trying to keep himself hidden and perform spells, which he liked to do flamboyantly, not that he'd ever tell anyone that, and if they told him? Well it would likely be the last thing they ever said to be fair. Except for Harry naturally.
It wasn't difficult to find out which cell they were in, they didn't even need to peer in, no, the names were written in chalk outside their door along with their prison numbers. Well runic prison numbers actually.
"We need to go and set up proximity spells," Voldemort ordered, and Harry silently agreed, together they moved back to the doorway, and set one up there, and then half way down the hall and then right outside Dumbledore's cell door.
Plenty of warning should anyone come, but considering it was dinner, he doubted anyone would be in a rush to check the prisoners.
"Alohomora," Harry cast the spell and opened the cell door, Dumbledore, who was sitting eating his meagre fair, glanced up only to blanch in shock at the sight in front of him when the cloak was removed.
He recognized both of the wizards on sight.
"Harry," Dumbledore cautioned him, as he stood, wishing he had his wand, "This is Tom Riddle," so that's who had been manipulating the boy and filling his head with lies. Oh, the boy was so utterly foolish to have been taken in. "Otherwise known as Lord Voldemort."
"I know," Harry said bluntly, wand out, "Incarcerous!" the magical bindings shot out of Harry's wand like a bullet, and wrapped themselves around Dumbledore, preventing him from making a move towards them.
"Shall I?" he was the better Legilmens after all.
Harry gave a curt nod.
"Your parents would be so disappointed in you, Harry," Dumbledore said, his blue eyes filled with naught by panic as Tom approached him.
"More than likely, although I have it on good authority, that they would have wanted me to survive more." Harry said wryly, contemplating muffling Dumbledore's voice but nixed it, this was going to be the last time he spoke to Dumbledore…for the second he got to Azkaban…he would be unreachable and probably die soon afterwards of what was ailing him.
"They died to stop him," Dumbledore hissed out, sounding like a feral cat as Voldemort approached him slowly as if relishing the fear he could see gleaming in those depths.
Which was a massive yes.
Harry scoffed, "They died protecting me," shaking his head, his attempts were so utterly transparent and pathetic…how had he ever been drawn in before? "They fought to protect what was left of the magical world...for it's betterment. Which I will most definitely see through to it's end. Their sacrifice won't have been in vain." They would flourish of that he was determined.
"Is there anything in particular you want to say to him? I suggest doing it now," Voldemort said lazily, eyeing Dumbledore watching him sweat with relish, no doubt assuming he'd be killed.
Acceptance filled Dumbledore, he'd rather die than confess all his sins under Veritaserum. There was no guarantee he could fight the effects off, he'd never attempted it before, there was nobody he trusted to be so vulnerable with a truth potion in his system to allow it. Not even Doge or Moody, he had too many secrets to willing imbibe the potion. The entire Order was gone…the Ministry didn't even know how…there was no rescuers waiting in the wings, and even if he got out…who would help him? Everyone who unconditionally cared was gone. Even his own brother had betrayed them, betrayed their parents and their secrets.
"I know everything," Harry said darkly, "Including the fate that would have awaited me if you caught me. I hope you die in excruciating pain you demented old fool."
Then like a freight train, making no effort to be subtle, wanting it to hurt, Dumbledore's mind was invaded with the speed of a train going at full speed hitting a barrier. The spell didn't even leave Voldemort's lips as he used it non-verbally.
Every second that ticked by had Harry on alert, tense like a coiled spring. So many things could go wrong, but this had to be done…it was worth the risk. That potion had to fade into obscurity, for the sake of them all. He hoped it wouldn't take too long though, but considering how old the old man is…it just might but Voldemort knew what he was looking for.
It felt like hours, but the reality was, it was probably more likely nine to ten minutes before Voldemort emerged from Dumbledore's mind. His face inscrutable, but seething fury and disgust flowed like a river through the bond.
"Your thoughts were correct," Voldemort said coolly, "He had indeed imbibed Gellert Grindelwald with the potion. Using him solely for his connections and power. And had I not been suspicious of his motives…I too would have been under his direct influence." Now that truly enraged him. He never thought he'd have been grateful for the suspicion brought on from using a Horcrux so young.
"Why fight him and end the war?" Harry questioned perplexed, that's the one thing that had been bothering him immensely. If it was what Dumbledore had wanted…why would he feel the need to end it?
"Because that's exactly what he wanted to happen," Voldemort retorted bitterly, "He gained international status, grand sorcerer, supreme Mugwump, chief warlock of the wizengamot…he had all the power at his fingertips and the status to do whatever he liked."
"So the plans for Muggle dominion?" Harry frowned, ignoring Dumbledore's groaning as he finally came around after being so thoroughly invaded.
"All planned meticulously to the last, he didn't truly care for it," Voldemort explained, wondering if he should obliviate those memories from his mind, because it was truly disgusting his lack of care when it came to every living breathing being on the planet. How many wizards and witches had been killed because of Dumbledore's plans? How many lines had ended? He knew he was responsible for his own share, but Merlin, compared to Dumbledore? He now considered himself child's play. "I almost regret what I'm about to do,"
"Only the potion ingredients and creation, everything else can be left," Harry suggested, "They'll just assume it was manipulation at it's finest. Either that or the potion can be mentioned and they'll hopefully deduce that it's one that's already been created. If need-a-must we can reveal it all to Madam Bones and have her call Severus to the stand again lie, it's too damn important for public's consumption…or the Ministry come to that."
"And the fact he cannot tell you which one?" Voldemort arched a brow, unimpressed.
"He wouldn't be the first person to obliviate himself to get out of trouble," Harry said wryly, "Apparently it's surprisingly easy…either that or plant one of the potions into his mind, make him believe he'd used that particular potion." shrugging his shoulders.
"You have quite a lot of faith in my abilities if you think I can do that seamlessly in the time we have here." Voldemort said dryly, but his lips were curling into a smug satisfied look.
"You and Severus are definitely the best in that field." Harry agreed, not that he needed to tell Voldemort this or stroke his ego. "Just do what you think is best in the time we have."
Which might not be very much longer.
Dumbledore's eyes had barely sprang open again, when Voldemort delved back into Dumbledore's mind. Meticulously, carefully and slowly beginning to obliviate him of all memories he had of creating the potion, and using it, filling those blank memories with genetic controlling draughts.
"Dowager Longbottom, how can I help you?" Madam Bones stood and asked of the elder woman, whom she knew from both Wizengamot meeting and the birthday parties hosted between their children over the years.
"I wish to press charges against Albus Dumbledore," Augusta retorted, as she made her way into the office. Giving a soft thankful smile when the chair was magically pulled out for her helping her sit down.
"I'm sorry, what?" Bones asked, startled in surprise, before regaining her equilibrium. "What are the charges you wish to levy against him?"
"He attacked both myself and my grandson in our own home and attempted to wipe our memories of said attack. He was not alone, his shadow, Doge was with him." her lip curling just at the mere mention of the cowardly disgusting wizard.
Bones' eyes widened, "When?"
"A few months ago now," Augusta sighed, rubbing at her hip, "It took a few weeks for us to come round afterwards, and longer still before I was in any condition to move." She wasn't as young as she used to be, and she was ever so grateful to Neville these past months.
"We had feared something had happened, when you missed those meetings…why did you not ever explain what happened? Why wait until now?" Bones questioned, already shifting through her paperwork to find parchment to record this conversation with.
"Quite frankly I was shocked, we were naught but the means to an end. He simply wanted us to 'play dead' in order to lure Harry Potter out of wherever he was hiding. When I refused such duplicitous actions, he sought to make it a reality. And in the off chance we survived he tried to alter our memories…unfortunately, I do not recall what memories he tried to implant in my mind." Augusta stated firmly, "The same was done to my grandson, being chased and harmed in our own home." nostrils flaring, furious over the incident even now.
"How is it Neville retained his own memories?" Bones questioned, knowing why Augusta did, it wasn't well known, but she kept her Ladyship ring that her husband gave her. Which afforded her all the protections as the Lordship ring. It was well hidden amongst her other rings adorned her hands.
"I had something made for his birthday, one that has all the protections in it that the Lordship ring has. Understandably, he cannot claim the ring until he's seventeen." Augusta sighed, with Frank still technically being alive, he was considered still Lord of the estate. It was just pure luck she could still access the vaults entirely, otherwise they would have surely struggled. If need be she would have sold everything in order to help Neville. She may not always have shown it, but she loved him fiercely, she was just from a different generation…a generation that did things vastly different.
"Then it is a very good thing you did so," Bones confessed, "You understand, Albus is already arrested on a whole slew of charges? Your own might not come to court…not in the time he has left." Azkaban didn't do well for one's health after all.
"Then perhaps the charges shouldn't be levied against him individually, but questioned all the same." Augusta suggested, eyes gleaming mercilessly. "You are the prosecutor after all." Which was odd in itself, since usually it was the Minister that prosecuted and Amelia defended.
"He won't get as long for the crimes he committed against you if you do this, you understand?"
"I do, but as you said, it might not go to trial if I press charges," Dowager Longbottom replied, "I want everyone to know what a cowardly dastardly wizard he is." She couldn't believe her Frank and Alice had consorted with such a filthy wizard.
"Very well," Bones agreed, "I'll still need to ask you a few questions, especially regarding what happened and the dates, so that I can ask the questions…Diggle might be able to get them prevented." She had to send in a list of the questions to the wizard.
"I understand entirely." Augusta nodded firmly, settling further into her seat.
"Would you like some coffee while we chat?" Bones asked, and not entirely for Dowager Longbottom's comfort either, she could use a drink, she hadn't had one in hours.
"Oh, yes, please," Augusta agreed, almost eagerly, "As long as it's not the brew put out for the Aurors." She teased her, vividly remembering Franks complaints about the coffee, so much so that he had begun taking in coffee for the machine himself. Frank had been spoiled with whatever he wanted growing up, which included the very best coffee beans.
The Ministry wouldn't pay out for anything but the cheapest when it comes to frivolous items such as breakroom coffee's and such.
Harry watched Voldemort work, sweat beading up his forehead. It was more of a mental strain than a physical one. Having to go through someone's memories and remove said memories and replace them couldn't be easy. Probably wasn't easy actually, he couldn't say he knew, since it hadn't been anything he was particularly interested in learning.
He froze hearing the door creak open, just as the alarm went off. Gripping his wand tightly, he waited, but other than an indecipherable grumble the door closed again and the alarm was silenced. Shaking his head in utter bafflement, how could they not sense the wards were missing?
It wasn't too much longer before Voldemort, thankfully, began to look more alive than a frozen statue he'd been moments previous. "It is done." He said, groaning softly, standing up, stretching out, staying in one position so long had left him with aches.
"Will it pass scrutiny?" Harry asked, cocking his head to the side, Dumbledore was totally out of it.
"Certainly a great deal more than Barty Crouch Seniors attempt," Voldemort said smugly, admittedly it hadn't been easy to get those memories from her, but in the end he had succeeded in breaking through the memories. Probably did the witch a favour. Senior had completely eroded her impulse control, made her very forgetful, and there had been no cure. To say she had once been smart would be putting it lightly, but senior had the delicacy of a bull in a china shop when it came to performing a memory wipe. It's why it was so dangerous. "He also won't remember our visit." Which did make him desire to pout, he'd get his time though, the old man would die knowing he had won.
"Then let's get the hell out of here," Harry commented, "I don't want them suspicious or worse…holding the trial date back…I want this over with." He wanted to move on with his life and focus on his creations, his potions, his spells, and everything else that wasn't about this damn war. Which was ending…well, pretty much had already ended.
He'd gotten his revenge.
Harry flicked his wand, removed the bindings and levitated Dumbledore onto the bed, and spitefully banished the full plate of food he still had. Then non-verbally cast yet another spell.
Voldemort chuckled at the show of spite.
Before long, both were once again wrapped up in the invisibly cloak. Making their way back out of the cells, removing the charms they'd placed as they moved. Both had their wands out, ready to spell the guard when they opened the door, ensuring that he ignored the door having opened, and remained at his post.
It was all too pathetically easy, when it should have been next to impossible.
It just went to show what you could do with a single invisibility cloak.
"Bet he regretted giving me the cloak," Harry said with supreme satisfaction.
"I can safely say, yes," Voldemort said wryly, as both were quick to make their way to the atrium.
They passed Augusta Longbottom and Neville on the way out.
Harry obviously, couldn't talk to them, but that time was coming on swift wings. The second he knew the potion worked…he would be calling on them, he would lose Neville's friendship but…Neville would gain so much more, and if he hated him for it…that was fine.
He had all the people he needed, while he would deeply regret the loss of that friendship…and grieve for it, he would not entirely miss it. He had known there was an expiration date on his friendship with boy.
They kept the cloak around them as they Floo flared to life, taking them home, but to everyone else…it looked as if it had been a misfiring Floo connection, and it was called in to be investigated. After all they didn't want someone accidentally getting hurt coming or going from the Ministry of magic. The last thing they needed was to be sued for damages.
Harry was more than grateful to be back home, his heart was still pounding away like a drum. The adrenaline still surging, the danger of it all thrilling as it always had been. He looped the invisibility cloak off them as they stepped out of the Floo network. He made sure that his cloak hadn't gotten too messed up with the ash, before beginning to meticulously fold it up. He rarely got to use it anymore, in fact this was probably the first time he had used it since…actually he couldn't recall the last time he used it.
"Thanks for putting up with Sirius, I know it's not something you wanted to do," Harry said, sounding sheepish, but the big grin on his face belayed that.
"Yes, I'm sure," Voldemort retorted, rolling his eyes heavenward, "Next time I'll make sure he knows how to be creative with his insults…because he will have experienced them if I have to endure such monstrosity again."
Harry snorted, "You enjoyed yourself." Voldemort couldn't lie to him, he'd felt his amusement for the most part. He wasn't used to being treated as normal, after being elevated in the eyes of the Death Eaters.
"His attempts amused me," Voldemort corrected him, which naturally wasn't true.
"Liar," Harry teased, before sobering up, "Has anyone else received the potion? Both as a recipient and to give to an intended recipient?"
"Quite a few people were given it, they are all dead," Voldemort confirmed, "As for giving out the potion, nobody else knows it exists outside of those that were in the room that day Luna interfered with Dumbledore's plans. He trusted no other with the potion." and Voldemort wasn't exactly surprised by that.
"Are there any still out there though…without anyone the wiser of what they have?" Harry questioned speculatively, shoulders relaxing marginally as the news brought great comfort, and succeeding in getting the weight off his shoulders.
"No," Voldemort confirmed, the fact the bastard had wanted to use it on him, and attempted to do so during the interview for the DADA job was galling.
"How long do you think he'll get?" Harry asked, more out of sheer curiosity than wishing to know how long he'd be locked up. Dumbledore wasn't going to see the inside of Azkaban prison long before his illness ended him.
"Amita? Bring us Whisky and a flagon of Butterbeer," Voldemort ordered, sitting himself down, a frown adorning his face. "The Wizengamot is the most unpredictable factor of a trial. The human factor. It's difficult to say, they might allow previous friendships to allow for a lesser sentencing…or that betrayal would make them react more harshly and send him down for far longer than the law could dictate."
Harry shook his head, "Yeah, that's what I've always worried about, how they can be so flippant, allow their emotions to dictate a trial. It's wrong on so many levels, with magic they should be able to do things fairly."
"Life isn't far," Voldemort snorted derisively. They knew that better than anyone else.
"Sometimes it can," Harry drawled, taking the butterbeer with a quiet thank you, adding in a shot of whiskey while he was at it. "Here's to seeing Dumbledore brought down, bet you never really thought it would happen…did you?"
Voldemort gave that question the consideration it was due, "Franky? No, I had never in a million years thought this possible. Oh, I wanted, imagined it, practically tasted it, but I had resigned myself to the old fool getting away with the things I knew he had done. I always thought he had covered his tracks too well. When you begun searching for information from people…I did not expect anything to come of it. You have given me one of the greatest pleasures in the world." By allowing him to see Dumbledore brought to his knees, and the world mourn and rage at the old fool and for being so blinded.
Harry swallowed the drink in one go, "You weren't the only one who was desperate to see Dumbledore fall from the pedestal he'd bestow upon himself…quite bloody literally." In ways that Harry definitely hadn't predicted. "I'm surprised though…that Severus and Lucius didn't attend it more." They were the ones he thought would most definitely be the ones front and centre to see it all.
"They'll be there tomorrow, Lucius is finishing something up for me, and Severus cannot be bothered with politics but does desire to see the end." Voldemort confirmed, shifting to make room when Harry moved over to him.
"I can't believe how tired I am," Harry admitted, leaning against Voldemort, relishing in the contact. Or what he had learned today, it would seem if they were to have a child – if either decided they wanted one – it would be a surrogate they'd use. Which meant he'd need to come up with a way to create a potion to give the child three parents…because if he did do this, he definitely wanted it to be with Tom.
Voldemort twitched, glancing at the door very briefly.
Harry sighed, "Who's coming?" resigned to their privacy once again being evaded. Once of these days he was going to shut down the entire manor so nobody could get in at all.
"Fenrir," Voldemort said, slightly bemused, the werewolf had barely left the grounds of the manor these past months. Not since he had come up with his idea for Umbridge's punishment.
He had to admit, he hadn't understood Fenrir's desire to use the disgusting woman. Then Fenrir had pointed out that the witch had Muggle blood in her family, combining it with his, being pureblood, it could make for a magically powerful offspring, failing that, he or she would be a werewolf, which was all he wanted.
Harry had just found the entire thing hilarious.
"Come in," Voldemort called out, when Fenrir knocked – not thumped like normal curiously enough – on the door.
They understood why when Fenrir entered with a small bundle in his hands.
Harry stood, blinking, trying to think just how long ago it was…and whether it was even safe for the kid to be on the outside. "May I?" he asked, not yet approaching. He knew better than that, especially when it came to someone like Fenrir who was more feral sometimes.
Fenrir grunted, which as his version of yes, Harry smiled as he approached. "Boy or a girl?"
"Boy," Fenrir grumbled out soothingly, sounding more wolf than man. With a prideful look on his face that declared he'd received everything he'd ever wanted in his life.
"Is he going to be okay?" Harry asked, the kid was definitely early, quite a bit early.
"Grant made sure of it," Fenrir said, watching Harry like a hawk, despite the fact he could smell that Harry wasn't a threat to his child. "I'm sorry you didn't get your revenge." Truly, he was, he had, had every intention to live up to his word.
"She died then?" Harry deduce.
Fenrir grunted again.
"It's fine," Harry said, truthfully he honestly couldn't care less about her. Or couldn't have cared less anyway. The Dursley's – who were presumed dead after being declared missing ages ago – Figg and Umbridge were all gone now having suffered for what they'd done to him. that was satisfaction enough.
He didn't ask if she'd died in pain, he just didn't care enough to.
It did however, reinforce Voldemort's belief, Harry would never be pregnant. He would not lose him, not for the sake of a hypothetical child that he didn't desire.
"Do you think you could get through to Remus?" Harry asked, as he watched the child with fascination. This was the closest he'd ever been to a child in his life.
"What's my wayward pup done now?" Fenrir grumbled.
"He's an idiot," Voldemort snorted, watching Harry with the baby, wondering if Harry actually wanted a child of his own. It wasn't something they'd spoken about.
Harry didn't deny that fact, "He just needs someone to talk to about what he is…someone that can understand and won't judge him. He was in Dumbledore's control far too long, he's coming out of the belief he's instilled in himself…but it's taking too long." And frustrating the hell out of him. "They've gone back to their holiday, which will be ending in about a month…"
"You sure you want to do that? They aren't stupid, they will realize what side you're on." Voldemort pointed out.
"I honestly think they might already suspect but rather live in denial." Harry mused thoughtfully, "But I'll let you know," he told Fenrir, carefully handling the little boy back. "Got a name yet? Romulus?"
Voldemort coughed to stop himself laughing, finding the fireplace fascinating for a few seconds while he regained control.
"Shaw," Fenrir gave Harry a look that suggested he wasn't impressed, "A Scottish name, its derived from the Gaelic Sithech which means wolf." was he truly that predicable that even a teenager could deduce what he'd do? "Shaw Conri Greyback. Conri means wolf king in Irish Gaelic."
"Can you speak both?" Harry asked curiously.
"He can indeed," Voldemort replied, drinking the rest of his whiskey and pouring himself another. Wrapping his arms around Harry, uncaring of the company, "He knew five languages before he was bitten. Three of them Gaelic, Welsh, Irish and Scottish, easily done as they are similar, and of course French and English."
"And barely talks at all," Harry muttered, polyglot was so lost on him.
"Pog mo thoin," Fenrir muttered in Scottish Gaelic, telling him to kiss his ass.
"Faire e," Voldemort warned him in Scottish Gaelic, to 'watch it' what he was saying about Harry. His sounded even more natural than Fenrir's which was surprising since obviously Fenrir had learned it from birth.
"Were you born in Scotland?" Harry queried.
"The family had properties all over Britain and Ireland, we spent our time between them." Fenrir admitted. "I was born in Scotland, but spent my first year between Ireland and Wales. Then two years in Scotland." He was the only Greyback left, like Tom he had gotten his own revenge. Unfortunately, the family had disowned him entirely, once everyone was dead he'd gone back to using the Greyback name, there was nobody left to stop him. He hadn't been able to gain the Greyback wealth though.
"He'll be able to inherit it all," Harry pointed to the little one.
Fenrir nodded, yes, he would, when he turned seventeen…he would be very wealthy indeed. He'd never have to worry about anything anyway, he would make sure of it. He'd never go hungry, never go to sleep in the cold…he'd always be surrounded by pack and protected.
He was the Alpha's son after all.
He would inherit all he had to offer and then some.
Well, there we go! :) I think we all know what the next chapter's going to be! :) hopefully I won't forget a vital question that needs to be asked :O or that would be embarrassing lol but it's definitely been fun writing this with the muse so strong...i barely feel guilty for all my other stories not being updated because of it ;) I'm definitely determined to get the rest of Dumbledore's trial in a single chapter :D so it might be a significantly long one who knows...will Dumbledore be able to lie through the Veritaserum and Voldemort and Harry be beaten at the last hurdle? only to hunt Dumbledore down and kill him anyway? or will the world know just what he truly is at the end of the day? R&R please