Harry Potter and the Curse of V'Ardian
Chapter 14
Of Retribution and Revenge
Standard Disclaimers Apply
oOoOo
Harry staggered upon his arrival back at Hogwarts, but stormed off immediately in the direction of the dungeons, his mind set firmly upon one thing. But the person he had been intending to see wasn't the one that he found. Instead, Harry saw Draco Malfoy, walking slowly to the Slytherin common room, a small smirk on his face.
Harry stormed up behind him and grabbed his collar, propelling him into the wall. Malfoy stared at him in surprise, his look of anger turning to one of shock when he saw the tear streaks running down Harry's face.
"You bastard!" shouted Harry. "Are you completely useless? You couldn't even find out where…"
Malfoy realised what Harry was talking about and replied straight away.
"What happened, Potter?"
Harry's face contorted in anger and he shoved Malfoy back into the wall again.
"She killed them! All three of them!"
"Who, Potter? Who killed who?"
"Your precious Aunt," Harry sneered. "But guess what?"
"What?" asked Malfoy, looking slightly uncertain.
"She's dead now as well," Harry hissed triumphantly, venomously.
Malfoy paled at Harry's statement.
"Dead?"
"I killed her, Malfoy. I killed her."
Malfoy's face filled with rage and he drew his wand, but an intervention prevented him from going further.
"Draco? What's going on?"
Harry looked sideways to see Narcissa Malfoy staring in alarm at her son. When she saw Harry's face she frowned.
"Potter," she spat. "Unhand my son right now!"
Harry growled and shoved Malfoy harder into the wall.
"Are you going to tell her?" he hissed quietly. "Are you going to tell her that her evil sister is dead?"
Malfoy was saved from answering however, by the arrival of te man that Harry had originally wanted to talk to.
"Release Mr Malfoy at once, Potter," came the oily voice of Snape from behind him. Harry dropped Malfoy and turned, and Snape too, seemed shocked at Harry's appearance.
"Did you know?" Harry asked, fists clenched at his side.
"I have no idea what you are talking about, Potter," Snape sneered. He turned to Narcissa. "I apologise, Narcissa. Potter often feels that rules are beneath him."
"I understand, Severus. I am sure you will take the appropriate measures."
Narcissa put her hand on her son's shoulder, intending to steer him away, but Malfoy resisted her. Instead, he turned to Snape.
"He killed Aunt Bellatrix!" he yelled. Narcissa let out a gasp and Snape's face paled.
"Narcissa, Draco, I must speak with Potter now. I assure you Potter is lying. I will contact you later."
"Answer me, damn it!" yelled Harry, regaining Snape's attention. Snape stepped forward smartly and grasped Hary's shoulder, pushing him into a nearby doorway.
"What have you done?" hissed Snape, leaning threateningly over Harry. But Harry wasn't about to be dissuaded.
"I asked if you knew!" he spat.
"Knew what, Potter?"
"The Dursleys are dead."
Snape's eyes widened and Harry knew then that Snape had had no idea about the attack.
Snape stepped back, silent.
"No," he said quietly, "I did not."
"Mr Malfoy, I shall speak with you later. Please return to your dormitory for now."
"But sir-"
"Leave now, Mr Malfoy," Snape said, his voice leaving no room for discussion.
Malfoy left and Harry stood, seething with resentment.
"Did you know?" he spat, but Snape did not answer. Instead, he turned and walked into his office, ignoring Harry's question. Harry stormed after him, slamming the door behind him.
"Did you know?" Harry repeated slowly, gritting his teeth.
"Sit, Potter," said Snape, pointing to a chair. "And to answer your question, you will have to tell me what it is I am supposed to know. I would also-" his eyes ran briefly over Harry's dishevelled state "-like to know what you have been doing."
He paused and Harry knew he wanted an answer.
"The answer to both of your questions is the same, Snape," Harry spat. Snape remained motionless, awaiting Harry's answer with a calm face. "Bellatrix Lestrange killed my family tonight."
Snape's face paled ever so slightly.
"You killed her." It wasn't a question.
"Yes," replied Harry. "She came at me with a knife. We fought and she slipped. She killed herself, but it was my fault."
Snape surveyed him without hint of emotion, but he was stunned. Bellatrix was one of Voldemort's favourites. He would not be happy.
"Where did this occur?"
"Privet Drive. But you still haven't answered my question."
"I did not know," replied Snape.
Neither spoke, and the only sound in the room was the ticking of the clock, slowly counting down the seconds to the time when they would die. Sitting here, Harry thought, was a waste of life. A life he didn't really have anyway.
Snape leant forward on his desk, staring at Harry.
"Tell me, Potter, why do you care so much about the people who wanted nothing more than to forget you?"
Harry froze, anger boiling inside him. How dare he bring that up? It was none of his business.
"Because they were the only family I had left," Harry spat, and the spectre of those beautiful green eyes of his mother floated before him.
"They hated you."
"A lot of people hate me."
"Why did you leave school grounds?"
"I would have thought that was obvious," spat Harry.
"You could have told someone."
"There was no time."
"How did you know that?" Snape seemed disbelieving.
"Because I saw it. I saw her kill my Uncle so I went."
"How did you get there so quickly?" Snape asked. Harry was unprepared for this question and he hesitated.
"I- apparated."
Snape sneered.
"You are not old enough to apparate, Potter. You do not have a license and you have never been taught. Do not lie to me."
Harry sneered right back at him.
"And of course I'm too stupid to teach myself anything," he said.
Snape fell silent then, standing up and pacing his office. He seemed deep in thought and Harry wanted nothing more than to leave.
"Why were you taking out your anger on Mr Malfoy?"
"That," said Harry, "is none of your business."
This statement angered Snape.
"You are in no position to tell me what is and isn't my business, Potter. You have left school grounds, apparated illegally and, by your own admission, committed murder. Believe me; you are in no position to bargain."
Harry remained silent. He had killed her, it was true, though he hadn't meant to.
"Is it true that you have killed Bellatrix Lestrange?" Snape asked abruptly.
"She is dead, though whether I killed her is debatable. Certainly, it was my fault."
"How so?"
"We duelled for a minute, but she tried to run. I stopped her and cornered her in the kitchen. I suppose she was desperate. She grabbed a knife off of the counter and rushed at me. We struggled for a minute before she slipped and fell. The knife went in her stomach."
Harry had often thought about something like this happening. It was amazing how wizards failed to remember that 'muggle' methods off killing were often just as much, if not more efficient than any curse or charm could use. It was in fact, so frowned upon by wizarding society that most wizards nearly always forgot that they could use their hands to disarm or disable their opponent.
Snape stopped pacing and faced Harry, his face a mask of anger.
"Do you ever think before you act, Potter?" he spat.
Harry was angry and he leapt to his feet.
"How dare you question me, Snape, and ask if I thought about my actions! You are the one who is a Death Eater! At least I had an excuse for doing what I did!"
Snape's face was ashen; he was livid.
"Do not presume to know why I did what I did, Potter! And let me assure you once and for all, though you may dislike me, I am a teacher and you will give me the proper respect."
Harry laughed. At this moment, he felt as though he were beyond caring.
"Your Death Eater pals just murdered my family and you want respect?" he questioned.
Snape looked as though he were about to hit Harry, or respond with some inane comment about how he was better than Harry, but refrained. Instead, he came out with the thing he knew would hurt Harry the most.
"Tell me Potter," he hissed quietly, "why do you care so much about the people who wanted nothing more than to forget everything about you?"
Harry was silent. It was a good question, but coming from Snape it was nothing more than a petty insult. It irked him that someone like Snape had seen one of his most shameful and private memories and was now using it against him. So Harry did the only thing he could do and fled. He knew there would be repercussions from this incident but right now he didn't care. As he ran, he thought about all the things he could have yelled at Snape. After all, what would someone like him know about family?
But, Harry thought, that no longer applied now. Snape had a daughter, and he'd had a wife. Even Snape had someone who loved them.
Harry was alone.
oOoOo
When Harry slammed through the portrait hole into the common room, he immediately ran into a wall of bodies. The common room was packed with students and their parents, all talking and gesturing happily.
"It's so good to be back here," enthused on woman.
"It hasn't changed at all!" agreed another.
It was a moment before anyone noticed that Harry had entered, but when someone did, everyone stopped talking. No one seemed to notice that he was dirty, dishevelled and had smears of blood on him, except for-
"Harry!"
Harry looked towards the source of the voice and saw the Weasley's and the Grangers staring at him in horror. Hermione rushed over to him but he wrestled out of her grip.
"Not now, Hermione," he mumbled, and made to open the portrait to leave. Ron joined Hermione at his side, and Harry saw Mr and Mrs Weasley striding over as well.
"What happened, mate?" asked Ron, looking at a particularly nasty cut that Harry had received from the knife.
Harry shook his head and pushed the portrait open, clambering out into the hall. He took off at a run.
oOoOo
Harry didn't tell anyone what had happened to his relatives. He didn't give his friends the explanation they deserved about what had happened. He just muddled on as he had been doing since Sirius died, taking each day as it came and hoping he'd live to see one more.
He stopped pretending that he was going to get better and accepted that this was the way things were going to be. He woke up and forgot his nightmares and went to class. He went to dinner with his friends and ate just enough as he thought he'd need to keep his body functioning.
But the only problem was, his body wasn't functioning properly anymore. He couldn't think, he was constantly tired, and always sick. His glamour charms were becoming weaker and weaker and Ron and Hermione had both started asking him how he was feeling.
It was the morning of the third last day before the Christmas holidays and Harry was standing in front of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, waiting to go out onto the pitch. He stood slightly stooped, propped up against his broom, his team mates looking towards the pitch in jittery excitement.
Weeks ago, Harry would have said that they had no chance of losing, but now he wasn't sure. It wasn't that he doubted the abilities of his team, it was himself. It was the first competition since it had happened, and Harry was afraid his lack of concentration would cost them the game.
But as always, he ploughed resolutely onwards and walked onto the pitch at the call from the commentator. In the upper rows of the stands sat the parents, the Grangers with the Weasleys. He had eventually been introduced to the Grangers, though he wasn't sure what their opinion of him was after the scene in the Gryffindor common room. They had shaken his hand and beamed at him, though their furtive glances at each other and then their daughter were slightly unconvincing of their trust.
Harry shook the hand of the Ravenclaw captain's hand and with a wonderful rush of air the game had begun. Harry sped through the clear blue sky, the wind buffeting him this way and that. This was how life should be, exhilarating and free, he thought.
He felt a rush of wild excitement as Katie scored and did a loop-the-loop, feeling better than he had in a long time. Coming out of the loop he noticed Cho, tailing him as usual. He shook his head in disappointment. You couldn't spend your life following other; you would only live to regret it. Suddenly Harry didn't want the day to end. He hadn't felt this good in so long- the euphoria of flying, the competitiveness and the complete and utter sense of perfection.
For this reason, when Harry saw the snitch about half an hour into the game, he turned in the opposite direction and powered away. Checking to make sure Cho was still following him, he dashed towards the opposite end of the pitch.
A loud boo came from the Gryffindors as Ravenclaw scored and Harry looked at the scoreboard. Gryffindor led with a score of one hundred and twenty, eighty points more than Ravenclaw.
The day was perfect for Quidditch really. A light breeze whistled through the trees and cooled the players, the sun was bright and the sky clear. Harry smiled dreamily, his mind drifting from the game. He surveyed the rows of parents, some watching as there children pulled dangerous stunts on their brooms. His eyes slid along the top-most row to Narcissa Malfoy, sitting next to a man who bore an uncanny resemblance to Pansy Parkinson. Her eyes were narrowed in dislike, fixed on Harry as he circled the pitch.
Dropping his gaze, Harry looked instead at the watching teachers. Dumbledore was not present and again Harry worried for his health. But the person sitting next to Professor Tonks made Harry stall in mid-air, thoughts of Dumbledore rushing from his mind.
Remus Lupin sat watching the game, his hand clasped slightly in Tonk's. Harry was glad that Lupin had finally come to Hogwarts and hoped he would stay for the feast tonight farewelling the parents.
Suddenly Cho darted past him, swooping towards the goal post. In his daze, Harry had forgotten to look for the Snitch and Cho was now hot on it's tail. Harry dived after her, coming in below her to prevent her going lower. The strategy worked and Harry narrowed the gap between them, his hand stretched out behind Cho's.
Screams were coming from the stands; it was all up to him, and suddenly Harry was hit with a strong, irresistible emotion. He couldn't lose this. Losing this would be a loss of pride, a loss of dignity. So with a final grunt of effort and what could have possible been a snarl, Harry threw himself forwards and grasped the struggling gold Snitch between his fingers.
Victory was sweet.
oOoOo
Harry didn't see Remus throughout the day, which he thought rather strange. When it finally came time to head down to the farewell feast, Harry hung around outside the doors, hoping to see him, but he never came. He wasn't up at the staff table, but then again, neither was Tonks yet.
As he had done on the day of the parent's arrival, Harry left, this time deciding to find Remus. The first place he looked was Tonks' office, and he was pleased to find them both there. He was about to knock on the door when Remus spun around, a snarl on his face. It dropped the moment he saw Harry, but Harry stepped back in alarm.
"Sorry," he mumbled. "I was just coming to see you."
"No, that's okay, Harry," said Remus, a slightly confused and uncomfortable look on his face. "Nymphadora was just heading down to the feast anyway."
Strangely, Tonks didn't object to being called by her first name, and Harry bid her good night as she passed him. She was looking better, he decided.
Harry slowly stepped into the office, unsure of himself, but Remus rushed forward and enveloped him in a hug.
"I'm sorry about before, Harry. I just thought- oh, never mind. You seem different, that's all."
Harry felt a chill creep up his spine. How much had Remus noticed?
"Why aren't you at the feast, Harry?" asked Remus, a concerned look on his face.
Harry only shrugged in reply, taking the vacated spot in front of Tonk's desk. Remus sat in front of him, chin resting on his hands.
"It's good to see you again, Remus, where have you been?" Harry asked.
Remus' face assumed a closed look, but after a second he smiled brightly.
"Business, Harry, you know what I am."
Harry nodded.
"You flew well today, Harry. Your parents would have been proud."
Harry was silent. A lump seemed to form in his throat at the mention of his parents.
"What were they like?" he asked abruptly. Remus lowered his hands to the table, sadly studying an old scar on his thumb. He seemed unwilling to look at Harry.
"They were- very decent people. It is the biggest crime that you were not old enough to remember them when they died. Your father...he was an amazing Quidditch player, just like you. A chaser, though. You told me what you saw in Dumbledore's pensieve and I don't want you to think that your father was really like that." He smiled sadly, meeting Harry's eyes. "One day I'll show you some of my memories. Your father was…everything a Gryffindor should be. He was brave, confident- perhaps overly so, and he despised anything to do with the dark arts. He was mostly polite, but he liked to pull a prank or two." Remus grinned now. "He was a wonderful, loyal friend."
"And my mother?" Harry questioned softly.
Remus' grin faded slightly.
"Lily was one of the kindest people I ever met. She cared for everyone- you saw the Pensieve. She was one of the brightest students in our year and she had a wonderful sense of humour. Her and James- they were perfect together. Everyone thought so. They married just under two years after we left school, and you came along about three years after that. You were such a beautiful baby."
Remus paused and for a few seconds a brief flicker of uncertainty passed over his face, but then it was gone.
"They both loved you so much, Harry. It was the worst thing that they were taken from you."
Harry nodded.
"Where…where are they buried?" he asked.
Remus looked as though he had been expecting this question.
"They were buried with honours in a cemetery behind the church where they married. Your grandparents are there also."
"Would you- would you be able to take me there?"
Remus nodded.
"Of course. You're staying here for the holidays I presume?"
Harry looked up at him.
"No one's told you, have they?" Harry asked, slightly astounded that Remus hadn't been informed.
"Told me what, Harry?" Remus asked, a worried look appearing on his face.
"The Dursleys are dead," said Harry bitterly. Remus jumped up.
"What? When?" he asked, clearly agitated.
"Three nights ago. Bellatrix Lestrange killed them."
Remus' face clouded with fury, though Harry knew it was because of Bellatrix, not because of the Dursleys. Remus seemed to bring himself under control and looked down at Harry.
"I'm so sorry, Harry. I really am," he said, and Harry could see that it was true. He smiled briefly at Remus and stood up.
"Thankyou, Remus. It's been good talking to you. I'll see tomorrow."
"Goodnight, Harry."
"Goodnight."
oOoOo
A/N: Well, don't hit me if it was boring. The next two chapters (especially the second one) hold lots of important information and action. Remember to review! As to the questions I've had about Harry being a vampire: Yes, vampires do take pride in pure blood, but that isn't what makes them a Lord. What makes a vampire a Lord is their magical ability. Also, sorry about disappointing those who wanted Harry to feed off/kill Bellatrix. In that regard, he's still getting used to the urges he feels and he finds the thought of drinking blood disgusting. All will be resolved soon, however. Thirdly, someone said that they think Harry is too angsty; one, I like angsty Harry, two, vampires are VERY TEMPERAMENTAL. Lastly, someone said that Katherine was a bit sue-ish. For this I profusely apologise- I hate Mary-Sues and I was really trying not to make her one; obviously I failed. Thankyou to those who continue to follow this story- Wujjawoo
Chapter 15: Of Christmas and Clues