Updates: Just finished my third huge Star Wars fic, check me out :D The Luna fic that inspired this fic, When the Dragon Spoke to the Moon, is also finished through the Hobbit. This fic will remain as slow updates, because I think it might be marvelous and I am taking my time.
Laughing All the Way to London: The last chapter is being worked through, I promise, my head's just in a weird place right now and that story deserves the correct send off.
Thank you, Theobeobo for helping me with a 10k chapter!
KEYNOTE: Through Snape and Harris, Dumbledore knew Voldemort was back. Harry was missing all summer, rumour had it, kidnapped by Voldemort. This is why the Ministry was after these two and why Dumbledore is still being flayed in the public eye.
WARNING AU: I deviate knowingly from canon. Also VIOLENCE, like this took a dark turn :D
Chapter 8 - Happy Halloween
Albus knew he had been antagonizing Harris Black. He also knew that the man had been on a short fuse.
He had recognized the deep sorrow and self-recrimination in his eyes, it was the same way Albus himself had felt when he lost his sister. He could accept that the duel in Grimmauld Place had been his fault, much like starting a bar fight by stepping into another man's personal space. But Albus had been itching for a fight too, with Harry's disappearance and public opinion turning on him as Cornelius covered up Voldemort's rise.
It had not escaped his notice that except for the wand jab and Harris breaking one of the Hollows, he had not used any lethal magic or even tried to knock Albus out in any way.
Harris Black was a well of contradictions. He appeared to be a good man, a powerful wizard, well centred in the light, until he wasn't. He voted for progressive laws, he fought against the Dark Lord, yet he also used dark magic, was able and willing to work around the law, and was committed to his family beyond reason.
He was a bastard, and he was a Black.
He was a man who had lost everything he loved and was determined to bring back together a family that he had never truly been a part of.
Orion Black had done well in hiding him. Albus had been unable to find a trace of Harris Black either in the Muggle or magical world.
Despite his status as a bastard child, Orion had given the boy his last name and put him into the line of succession. He must have seen in his oldest son both competence and power. It was just hard for Albus to wrap his mind around the man being unknown to the larger wizarding world.
Still, today, Albus felt it was time to reveal one of Harris's own secrets. He had come to the Longbottom estate to escort Neville back to school. One weekend a month he was being allowed to spend at home. He also saw his parents on Hogsmeade weekends. Though Albus wondered if Alice and Frank would allow him back once Albus broke the news that miraculously had yet to reach the papers.
Minerva was with him, a silent presence; things had not settled between them though the rest of the Order had seemed to understand him.
Alice opened the door after Albus rang the bell, her round sweet face grinning up at him, "Albus! Minerva! So good of you to come. Neville is all packed up but if you want to join for some after supper tea, you are more than welcome to join us."
"We would be honoured," he responded, smiling back at her even as his heart twisted for him.
Your tormentor is free and there is nothing anyone can do to put her back in prison.
They were directed to the greeting room and Alice asked how they liked their tea.
When Alice sat down beside Neville, his father Frank on his other side, the boy looked happier than Albus had ever seen him.
Lady Augusta, it appeared, had already retired for the night.
Pleasantries were past and Albus dreaded what he had to say next. Clearing his throat, he began, "There is a matter that we need to discuss. I am not sure when it will be published by the Ministry or the press, however, we believe you should be informed."
"Informed of what?" Frank asked, suspicion thick in his tone.
Like ripping off a bandage, Albus said, "Bellatrix Lestrange has been released from prison."
Frank's expression closed down as did Alice's. Neville looked plain horrified, then angry.
Alice asked, "Released, as in cleared of all charges? Or she escaped like Sirius Black?"
"Harris Black had it slipped into Sirius's settlement somehow. It is, I'm afraid to say, legally binding. Mr. Black also had Bellatrix's marriage annulled so all her crimes she has been pardoned for are not even legally seen as her crimes anymore, but her husband's."
Frank and Alice exchanged a long look over Neville's head.
"What are you asking of us, Albus?" Frank enquired, "I already told you, Alice and I are not rejoining the Order of the Phoenix."
Albus frowned at them, "But you signed up for going back to work next season. And I'm not asking-"
"We talked to Lily and James before that Halloween," Alice said sharply, "Lily didn't think you had our sons' best interest at heart."
"And we will not be helping you track down Bellatrix. I assume that is what you wanted by stating it is not yet public information," Frank said, voice hard.
Albus was thrown, he felt like he had lost track of this conversation, "The Potters were betrayed by Peter Pettigrew."
"So we read in the papers," Alice said sharply, "And Harry went to Lily's sister and our son went to live with Augusta. But that's not what was in our wills."
Albus shook his head, "Harry's godparents-"
"Did you put Harry and Neville where they would be loved or where you thought they would grow thick skins?" Alice interrupted.
Albus blanched, "Your mother-"
"Was insistent, yes, I know," Frank said, "but after the Potters, Neville was to be raised by Alice's cousin in northern France. Which you should have known, but you had our wills not made public."
"Your mother-" he tried again.
"My mother was not high off her own power. You and that damned prophecy-" Frank took a breath before starting again, "I hear that both my son and Harry are in Divination with that woman-"
Albus took a breath himself, he had not expected to be greeted with such anger, the same anger that Harris Black had on Harry's behalf.
Minerva was glaring at him too.
Sighing, Albus decided to face the music, "I did what I thought best to keep the children safe."
Alice glowered at him, "And why is it you think that family can't be just as dangerous, perhaps more so, as assailants? Neville's uncle dropped him out a window and Augusta allowed it."
Albus felt his eyes widen, his lips part in an 'o' of surprise.
Merlin, he was growing so old and his mistakes… seemed to be adding up.
"Um, not to interrupt," Neville said, a bit flushed for his past being the topic of discussion and his parents' anger on his behalf, "But can we go back to the part where Bellatrix Lestrange is on the loose? And it was Harris Black who let her out? But he was the one to give us the Belladonna Cure."
Minerva cleared her throat, "Yes, and we wanted to assure you all that the wards at Hogwarts have been increased."
"Bellatrix Black isn't going to target Neville," Alice stated.
"Nor are we going to help you track her down. If she was pardoned legally, then what's done is done. She spent fourteen years in Azkaban while we were treated at a comfortable hospital. She has paid her time," Frank said matter of factly.
Albus gaped at them.
Neville exclaimed, "But she tortured you!"
Alice smiled at her son sadly, stroking his hair gently, "No, Neville, she didn't. Bella was tortured with us."
Frank put a hand on Neville's back rubbing comfortingly. "She saved you. Whatever other crimes she committed, she is the reason you survived that night."
Neville was looking between his parents, looking as lost as Albus felt, "But- I don't understand…"
Alice cupped his cheek, "People aren't all one thing or another. Bellatrix Lestrange murdered friends of ours, but she wasn't all evil. She drew the line at murdering a child. Those four broke into our home and while Frank and I duelled with the Lestrange brothers and Crouch Jr., Bellatrix went to you in the nursery. She got you out. When she came back your father and I were being interrogated. Bellatrix lied about finding you, and her husband knew she was lying. He didn't hesitate to torture her too. If the Auorors hadn't arrived when they did, she wouldn't have been any more lucid than we were."
Frank shuddered, "You could tell it wasn't the first time Rodolphus had used the Cruciatus Curse on her. She laughed at him. She laughed at us all."
Alice took Neville's hand and squeezed. The shock on his face said that his world view had just been shaken.
Albus was feeling the same.
Alice looked at him and Minerva, "I'm not saying she is innocent, not of everything, but if her crimes were placed at her husband's feet… it might not be so far off from the truth. That woman needed help."
Minerva spoke for the first time, "Harris Black said that she was given the Belladonna Cure as well, and that it seemed to be working. He is still caring for her in private because he said she still needs time to recover from her time in Azkaban."
Alice's expression softened further, "That is good to hear. I wish her the best."
Neville looked sort of green.
Frank patted him on the back, "The world is a complicated place, my son."
Alice smiled, a glint of steel in her eyes, "Because if it wasn't, I would have murdered your grandmother."
Neville blinked.
Frank laughed, leaning behind Neville on the sofa to kiss his wife's cheek, "I do thank you, love, for not turning me into an orphan."
Alice sighed, "In-laws," she winked at her son, "know that when you get married, you're signing up for another person's crazy."
"Hence the reason I asked you to marry before you met my mother."
Alice levelled Frank with a serious look, "It was perhaps the wisest thing you ever did."
They laughed and Neville still looked confounded, and Albus couldn't blame him.
"What were you thinking?" Lucius demanded, voice low.
Nothing like having a Dark Lord on the first floor to keep one's tone lower even if the room was warded.
"I was thinking of Theodore."
"Draco isn't even friends with him," Lucius snarled.
"So?" she asked, "Unlike Vincent and Gregory, Theodore doesn't have a mother to watch out for him."
Heat rose to Lucius's cheeks, "You think you are the only one to care about our son?"
"I think I'm not the one who gave away one of Dark Lord's trinkets that set a Basilisk loose on the school our son goes to," she retorted.
Her husband was on such thin ice with her, and with Bella's letter clenched in her hand, she wasn't in the mood for his insignificant logic.
"Our son is a pureblood," he said, his arrogance marring his features.
Unearned arrogance. It was an effort not to strangle him, "Do you honestly believe a snake could tell the difference?"
He gave her cold eyes, "Theodore is not staying the summer at our summer home. The Dark Lord has already requested that Draco-"
"Draco is not going to be within arm's reach of that creature," she hissed.
"He will-"
"He won't. So help me, Lucius, do not try my patience on this." She hadn't told him that Sirius had offered her and the boys a place to stay over the summer. If he didn't know then the Dark Lord also wouldn't know.
Wouldn't know that she, Draco, and Theodore would be living with Harry Potter. Harry Potter, who was now the Black heir, and as far as she was concerned, family always came first.
"Watch your tongue, the Dark Lord-"
"Is not my master," she interceded, "I bow to no man or creature."
He slapped her.
The sound reverberated through her being.
Narcissa turned to look back at him, her cheek stinging, her pride rising.
She had tolerated so much, but Lucius had never once raised a hand to her, not as her mother had to her father.
Lucius's expression said clearly that he knew he had made a mistake.
But he did not drop to his knees and beg for her forgiveness.
That was his second mistake.
"He will do worse to you," Lucius warned in a low tone.
She raised a brow at him, her voice was iron as she asked, "Are you threatening me?"
"Draco is the Malfoy heir-"
"He is my son, Lucius, and so long as I breathe, he will not come to harm. I will not permit it."
Turning her back on him, she folded her sister's letter into her skirts as she grabbed a bag she had long kept in an armoury of some of Bella's favourite things. Some of the few pieces of jewelry she had enjoyed wearing enough to bring with her to the Lestrange estate. Some of her favourite books, two corsets and shoes that were meant for dances, hence easy to breath and move in.
"Where are you going?" Lucius demanded, his anger didn't hide his worry.
She didn't answer, checking her dress before she disapperated.
That Lucius had hit her hadn't fully sunk in, there was something unreal about it.
She appeared in Knockturn Alley, her feet taking her to where her sister had told her she was staying, 'where we were ourselves.'
She still had to knock at the top of the stairs, the wards were subtle, but strong enough and complicated enough that she knew it would take too long to break through them.
The door was opened by a man she might have sworn was James Potter, but he had Sirius's eyes and he was older than James would have been.
He stepped aside, "Lady Malfoy."
She stepped over the threshold to the apartment her father had bought for her and her sisters.
Bella crashed into her a moment later, "Cissa!"
Narcissa clung to her, breathing in deeply and closing her eyes against the tears.
She had missed her sisters.
Bella pulled back smiling, her brown eyes were clear, the tension around her face lifted. In some ways, she looked almost younger than the last time Narcissa had seen her. Although she was still too thin.
Bella cupped her face, "You're so beautiful, Cissa."
Again, Narcissa blinked back the tears, though her voice came out clear, "I got your letter."
She had thought she would have to kill Bella, until she read the contents in the letter. It had given her hope and now that hope stood as reality before her.
Bella turned to Harris, grinning, "You sent it!"
Harris huffed, though there was amusement in his eyes, "I told that I would. Narcissa, may I get you some tea?"
She nodded, "Black, nothing in it."
He inclined his head, walking into the kitchen.
Bella pulled Narcissa to the seating, "He cooks and bakes."
Narcissa was watching the man move about the kitchen as if he truly knew his way around it. She turned back to her sister, whose black hair was smooth and shiny as if she had for once in her life been taking proper care of it, "Good. Merlin knows that you couldn't."
Bella stuck her tongue at her.
Narcissa's lips twitched, she hadn't seen her sister this… carefree since they were children. But her smile fell when she remembered their circumstance, lowering her voice, Narcissa asked, "He hasn't taken-"
Bella shook her head, "He's the kindest man I've ever met."
Kindness wasn't exactly a quality they had ever valued before, but that was before they had gotten married. Although, Narcissa supposed, it was something Andromeda had valued enough to leave them for.
Perhaps Andromeda really had been the wise one, even if she was a traitor.
Harris came back then, setting the tea tray down on the low table.
Narcissa watched the man move, his elegant fingers moving with uncommon grace as he poured the tea, preparing Bella's with just the right amount of sugar and cream before passing them both their tea cups.
Bella tucked her legs up on the sofa, her hands clasped around the warm tea cup, neglecting the saucer on the tray. Which is when Narcissa caught sight of the band around her wrist. Narcissa's gauze swivelled back to Harris, "Did you get those bracelets from Andromeda?"
A dark look passed through Harris's gaze, but his voice was casual as he said, "In a manner of speaking."
"So you stole them," Narcissa concluded.
Bella tapped her leg, "It's alright, Cissa. I like the taste of his power."
You didn't like mine, Narcissa almost said, squashing the jealousy. Bella had been distraught when Andromeda left them and had refused to wear the bracelets with Narcissa instead.
They were, in a sense, slave bands. The band Harris wore was the master ring; he controlled if and when Bella could use her power, and it linked their magicks, it could magnify their powers if they were close enough.
Narcissa was surprised that Bella would wear them again, but she realized with a release of held tension, the bands meant that she wouldn't have to worry about Bella being a danger.
Well sure, Bella could still do an insane amount of damage with a knife or poisons, but it wasn't the same as an impulsive curse.
"Harris said your son is attending Hogwarts," Bella said.
Narcissa looked up to her sister's gaze, "Yes, Draco is in his fifth year."
Bella stretched her legs over Narcissa's lap, her head resting on the back of the sofa, "Tell me about him."
Narcissa blinked at her, Bella had never been interested in Draco before.
But she talked, and Harris laughed at one of the stories she had of her son. Her gaze swung to him, "Do you have children, Harris?"
"I had two sons and a daughter, the two youngest were twins," he said, his gaze soft.
"Were?" Narcissa enquired.
"They've passed," Harris said, voice pleasant but distant.
Her heart hurt for him, she couldn't imagine losing her son, "My condolences."
He bowed his head in acknowledgement.
Bella leaned forward, snatching a cookie from the tray, she jabbed it at Narcissa's lips.
Narcissa snapped her teeth over the small cookie, nearly biting Bella's fingers.
Bella snatched her hand back, chortling.
Narcissa swallowed the bite of sugar and chocolate and fought not to make noise of pleasure, it was that good.
Bella was smirking at her, "I told you Harris could bake."
Narcissa shook her head, "My compliments, Harris."
His eyes were on Bella's contented expression as he said, "Thank you."
That was how the evening passed. Narcissa was amazed at Bella's condition, at her lucidness and lack of violent impulses. It was like having her sister back from their childhood, before their mother had taken her punishments too far. But Bella was still recovering, she jumped at the shadows cast by the outdoor lights and when she got tired, Narcissa could see the depth of her fatigue.
Narcissa was the one to tuck Bella in for bed.
Bella caught her hand, "Visit me again, Cissa?"
Narcissa nodded, kissing her sister's forehead, "I'll visit so often you will be sick of me."
"Impossible," Bella breathed, her eyelids fluttering shut as she drifted into sleep.
Harris was leaning in the doorway, watching them.
Narcissa stood and as she approached, she said "Her tea was different from mine, lavender and camellia tea."
Harris smirked, "Works every time. Dreamless sleep is too risky to give her too often." He stepped back as Narcissa reached to shut the door behind them.
"Why are you doing this?"
He walked back to the coffee table, collecting the tea cups, "You are family."
"What happened to your other family?"
He shot back with, "What happened to your face? It was red when you walked in."
The memories of Lucius flooded back to her, unwelcome.
She had always promised herself that she would never tolerate her spouse raising a hand against her. "You told Sirius that you wanted me, Draco, and Theodore at Grimmauld Place this summer."
He nodded, walking to the sink, and he began to wash the dishes like a muggle, "I did."
She swallowed, "I was thinking of moving there full time."
Harris stilled, he shut off the tap and turned to face her. Drying his hand with a towel, he leaned back against the counter, "Lucius didn't agree with keeping Draco away from the Dark Lord, did he?"
"No, he did not."
"Fool."
She walked around the table, "I can't divorce him."
Harris raised a dark brow at her, "No?"
"He could legally take Draco from me, not even you could prevent that."
He nodded, "But you still plan to leave him." He stated it, tossing the hand towel to the side on the counter, crossing his legs as he leaned into the counter.
Narcissa stared at him, wondering how this handsome man, who cooked and cleaned, who seemed overly generous could be alone in the world. There was also an aura of power around him that made her understand why Orion had made him heir of house Black despite his being an illegitimate child. Even relaxed there was an air of nobility around him.
It was something that Lucius postured with, Harris on the other hand, simply was. But then she supposed any wizard who could duel with Voldemort must be that self confident.
"Thank you for tending to my sister, most would have considered her a lost cause."
"You believed her to be," he noted.
"I will not apologize for that assumption, you don't know the things she has done."
"I assure you that I do."
"And that doesn't bother you."
He sighed, looking toward the window where night had fallen over Diagon Alley, "I told her that once she recovered, she could be allowed her independence. I am not sure that that time will ever come."
"Then you are not a fool," Narcissa responded, "She has never been on her own. She has always needed someone."
"Perhaps that is not a fault," he said, catching her gaze, conveying a secondary message.
Narcissa looked away, her mind already twisting around all that she would need to do to move out from the Malfoy Manor without Lucius or any of the Death Eaters stopping her.
Lucius would make a scene if she tried to leave. She could already imagine him arguing with her, pleading that it was just one slap.
But it was one too many.
Her blood boiled, her heart might have broken if she let it, but she didn't. If Lucius would strike her, even to keep her from taking a side against the Dark Lord, then he wasn't the man she had fallen in love with.
No matter what, he should have supported her as she had always supported him. She had always been so careful of Lucius, refusing to become the tyrant that her own mother had been. But that had been with the trust that Lucius would always trust her in turn.
Clearly, that respect was lacking.
Shame filled her.
Hadn't Andromeda warned her about Lucius?
Fury filled her at the thought, it hurt till she felt as if she was on the verge of breaking.
She didn't want to break, she didn't want to be the one hurting, the one angry. She wanted to put Lucius in his place. She wanted him to regret ever daring to raise a hand against her rather than simply regret losing her. She wanted him to know that he would never get her back.
She wanted to take his heart and break it over her knee, to know that he hurt worse than she did.
But she knew he was too wrapped around the Dark Lord's finger, his lips so busy kissing that creature's boots, he probably wouldn't worry much about her absence. She knew him, knew the way he thought, everything was a game with him.
He would think that if he won this war that she would come crawling back to him.
It pissed her off.
Lucius had struck her, had threatened her, had knowingly put her son in danger, more than once.
"Narcissa?"
She startled, looking up at the man who was now standing in front of her, concern in his sapphire gaze.
Harris Black, her bastard cousin, the head of her family house.
Resolve settled over her, she might have married a Malfoy, but she would always be a Black.
She reached up to the man, watched confusion cross his expression, but he didn't resist her as she brushed her lips over his.
When he didn't pull away, she kissed him more solidly.
He kissed her back, his hands coming to her waist.
He was a good kisser. He smelled of lavender and vanilla soup, and he tasted of the sweets he had likely baked this evening. For a moment, she lost herself in the sensation, in the newness of this experience.
She had married young and had never strayed.
Not until now.
Harris pulled up, his hands on her waist had touched but not explored, she now realized what it was a restraining hold so she couldn't throw herself at him.
As if she would do anything so uncivilized.
She expected him to protest the nature of their relation. He was, after all, a man who professed to be family.
But as Walburga wasn't his mother, they were… it took her a moment before the answer came to the answer; they were both descendants of Phineas Nigellus Black. That was plenty far enough removed for her own sensibilities.
And apparently for Harris's sensibilities as well based on the nature of his protest, "You are a married woman, this must be your choice."
Lust, raw and unfiltered spread like heat in her veins. She didn't think it would be that easy, actually, she hadn't even been thinking this through. A spur of the moment plan, if it could be called a plan at all.
She had never cheated on Lucius before, but he had run a stake through their relationship, and Narcissa very much wanted to take back control, to be the one to cleave their marriage in such a way Lucius could never think to repair it.
If she did this, if she went back to the manor with the smell of another man's skin on hers, Lucius would never take her back. Nor would he ever divorce her. He couldn't afford anymore scandal, he had made far too many missteps over the years, as had his father. To divorce her was to permanently ruin the Malfoy name.
He would have to count on her being circumspect, or have to admit publicly that his wife had cheated on him. That he, Lucius Malfoy, had not been enough for her.
The thought brought a smile to her lips, as she appraised Harris with new interest. He was older than her, but his shape was pleasing. She ran hand through his wild salt and pepper hair, "This is my choice."
He was pliant as he returned to her, his hands pulling her close to him.
There was little romance in the way he touched her, though he wasn't rough. She shivered with anticipation when his fingers trailed from the back of her neck, down her spine, curving around her butt, finding the form of her despite the layer of her skirts.
He bent his knees, his arms coming around her thighs. When he straightened, he lifted her off the floor, his face at just level.
She cupped his face, tilting him toward her so she could continue kissing him as he brought her to his room.
Narcissa forgot that Bella was in the other bedroom, that she was doing this out of revenge, and that she only ever done this with one other man.
She forgot everything but for the attentive exploration Harris lavished on her body, on the pleasure he brought her again, and again.
Harris tipped his head back, letting the water run over his face as he stood in the shower that had run cold a while ago.
Last night had not been the first time he had slept with Narcissa, but the last time Andromeda had been in the bed with them.
Pissing off any of the Black sisters was an ill idea. All around, a poor life choice. Part of Harris was amused that his presence in the timeline had done something to provoke Lucius to ruin his marriage years early.
Narcissa Black didn't believe in divorce, she did, however, believe in ripping a man's heart out and rubbing it into beneath her heel if said spouse was stupid enough to betray her in some way. He wasn't sure of the details of the last time Narcissa had broken things off with Lucius. Harris had gotten the idea that it was something about her fertility. The indication being that it wasn't an accident the Malfoy line consisted of only a single male heir, never daughters or siblings, but Harris hadn't pried.
Just like he hadn't pushed this time. Narcissa was one of the few women he knew personally who could share her body without her heart. He knew she had been using him, and he was okay with that, because he had been using her for the same reason.
Only, getting revenge on a person who no longer existed was less than productive. In the past, sex with Narcissa hadn't been cheating because Andromeda had been there every time. His relationship with the blonde outside of the bedroom had remained that of a brother and sister-in-law.
Sex alone with Narcissa had been a betrayal.
It wasn't until he stepped into the shower that he remembered that his Andromeda didn't exist anymore. His mind filled with the memory of the light leaving her eyes as he tried to process her words; I know that this is unforgivable, but I know you will find happiness again.
Wrecked him. It was like he had reached into his own chest and clawed his heart anew.
That was the worst of his experiences since arriving in the past, forgetting. Forgetting that Andromeda wasn't his anymore, forgetting that his kids weren't born yet, weren't likely ever to be born, not as his own.
He could pretend for brief intervals he was holding himself together, but he rarely spoke, rarely slept through the night. While Bella was lost in her world, he was lost in his own personal hell. Tending to Bella was his only reason to even go through the motions, to not give up. She didn't know him well enough to realize his extreme reserve was an abnormality.
But sometimes he fell into a rhythm where he would feel, for a time, like himself. Those blissful moments he forgot what he had lost.
He had actually gone so far as to bake two cakes for Rose and James' birthday. Despite them being twins, he had never made sure to make them feel like they were less of individuals than they were. Yes, there were things they shared, but he always was sure in word and in his actions to show them that he loved them equally but as individuals not a single unit.
Ginny hadn't been as good at that.
But then it would hit, like the first realization, that they didn't exist. He had donated the cakes and drank a full bottle of rum once Bella fell asleep that night. The hangover the next day was a needed distraction from the emotional whiplash. Caring for Bella was about the only thing keeping him more or less grounded.
Harris turned off the shower. He had laundry to do and breakfast to make. He tried to hang onto the good news that Draco and Theo would be safe from Voldemort this time around, and by extension, Blaise.
Harris tried to tell himself that going to the Tonks house and cussing out Andromeda wouldn't do any good or harm.
He was nothing to her anymore.
Narcissa didn't shower when she got back to the manor, she even left her hair down, tousled. It was too early for the Dark Lord to be up.
She had Draco's belongings packed up and ready. She went to the library next, empty her own office, and out of spite, took a few of the books she knew Lucius favoured.
It shocked her how easy it was to turn on him, on all the little resentments that had been building over the years, on the marriage she had worked so hard to hold together.
She knew Lucius loved her, she even knew he loved Draco, but he didn't respect her, and he wasn't careful enough with their son.
If the Aurors caught him again, she wouldn't help get him out of prison like she had the last time. She wouldn't be at his side for this war. Hell, this time she might even fight on the other side, fight with Sirius and Harris.
She might.
Though she would murder Albus Dumbledore in his sleep before taking an order from him.
She was quiet as she stepped into her bedroom. Lucius was asleep in their bed and did not rouse until she flicked her wand causing the expanded trunk to slam shut, the locks turning into place.
"Narcissa?"
She didn't respond to him, shrinking the trunk and stooping to pocket it.
"Narcissa, please, wait, I'm sorry," he was sitting up in bed, wearing nothing but a pair of shorts when she turned to look at him, "You have to understand the danger we are in."
"And whose fault is that?" she asked disdainfully.
His jaw ticked, "You have to know how dangerous loose words can be."
"Again," she snapped, "Whose fault is that?"
He stood, she could see the bluster, the poor excuses. Had he been worried, had he realized the boundary he had crossed, he wouldn't have slept last night. He wouldn't be trying to shrug off sleep, his words sluggish as he scrapped together a half-assed apology.
She cut off his next words, "You were the one who took the Dark Mark, you're the one pissing away Draco's inheritance with a half-baked Dark Lord leeching off you like some type of parasite."
"Watch your mouth," he snapped, despite the fact that this room was warded to be soundproof.
She laughed, "In my own bedroom, you would chastise my speech. Draco will not be coming back to you. You've lost us both."
Lucius frowned at her, then he finally looked at her. As he so often did, he had been looking past her, her beauty nothing but a tapestry hung on his self-worth. An object, a possession that he expected to remain where and how he had left her. He didn't have to admire her to own her.
Fuck that.
A slow smirk tugged at her lips when his gaze fell over her body. He took in the rumpled skirts, the loose corset, and the slight tear at the sleeve. His eyes snapped up to her face, seeing that her hair was for once down, messy. The makeup around her eyes smudged, her lips with only the slightest remains of lipstick that had been worn away.
His grey eyes widened, his breath catching.
He was the only man she had ever allowed to see her like this, until last night.
Lucius tried to suck in breath, looking as if the air had been sucked out of him, his hand raising to his chest.
"When I married you," Narcissa said solely, "You promised me that no one would ever be able to raise a hand against me. You promised that our home would be different, that our little family would be safe here." She shook her head, some of her curls slipping over her shoulders, "Your words are worth nothing, Lucius Malfoy."
His face crumpled, and for a moment, she thought he might cry. But he swallowed hard, his voice a bit choked as he asked, "Who was it?"
She ignored the question, "If you try to take Draco from me, I will turn you into the Ministry myself."
"WHO WAS IT!?" Lucius bellowed, all his reserve shattering.
"Harris Black," she said lightly and without shame.
His expression twisted, "He is your cousin."
"What he is, is a better lay than what your performance has been of late."
Lucius's face coloured and he went through a series of expressions before saying in a low voice, "You whore, this wasn't the first time, was it?"
It had been the first time, but she didn't defend herself, didn't say Harris was only a distant relation or that she had never before so much as looked at another man. No, instead, she said, "This is the last time I step foot in this domain. We are over, Lucius. You are a criminal and you will not approach Draco again until he graduates."
Lucius's expression hardened, "We will win this war, Narcissa, and you will pay for this lack of discretion."
She smiled at him sweetly, "Honey, last time you lost to a baby. This time, your Dark Lord isn't even a man, and you," she turned her wrist, "don't have a wand."
Her own settled in her hand and she disapperated.
She did not go directly to Grimmauld Place, taking several detours to make sure she couldn't be tailed.
When she stepped into the old family home, she immediately knew she would have her work cut out redoing… well, everything.
Sirius looked up from the paper where he was sitting on the sofa by the fire, "Hey, Cissa darling." His smile turned wolfish, "Don't you look well ravished. Did your husband give you a proper send off then?"
She levelled him with a cool look, "No, I tumbled your older brother. He certainly knows how to treat a lady."
It was worth the expression of horror on Sirius's face.
Then it was her turn to be overcome by shock as a familiar face sprinted out from the dining room, he stopped for a moment to flash a brilliant smile at her, "Cousin Cissa!"
She found herself being embraced by her youngest cousin, she pushed him back to examine his face, "Regulus? Reggie? But how-?"
"Harris saved me from the Dark Lord, or should I say, Tom Riddle, a half blood if you can believe it. He had cursed me into stone. But Harris got to me before Riddle could do anything more to me."
She cupped his face, "You're alive? You're okay?"
He nodded, still smiling, "A little stir crazy, but I'm okay."
Sirius chuckled, shaking out his paper, "He has the energy to help you redo this place, Cissa."
Reggie was near bouncing on his feet and said with a child like glee, "You're going to redo this place? I can help! I still have my wand. Where do you want to start?"
Narcissa blinked rapidly, Reggie had lost this childness when Sirius had finally cracked and ran away from home. But the happiness on his face was a gift to see, as much as seeing Bella in one piece again.
Narcissa pulled the boy back into a hug, "I missed you, Reggie."
He settled into her arms, "I'm sorry I didn't listen about joining the Death Eaters. You and Andromeda were right."
Andromeda.
Why did it hurt her heart more to remain at odds with Andromeda than leave her husband?
Harry laughed as one of the thestrals nearly knocked him off his feet when Luna threw him a slab of meat. Aside from them, only Theo and Neville could see them.
Neville was hanging back with the others, Theo was standing beside Harry shaking his head, "You two are weird."
"Why thank you," Harry said, tossing the meat high, one of the thestrals rose on its hind legs to catch it.
Professor Newt Scamander was lecturing the rest of the class about the thestrals characteristics, while Harry, Theo, and Luna had chosen to feed the herd instead writing the paper on them.
Theo wasn't doing much but for keeping track of which ones needed to be fed and which ones had stolen extra pieces.
Luna's laughing was garnering all sorts of attention as she snorted. Harry thought her laugh was contagious and even Theo almost smiled.
Blaise rolled his eyes at them from where he was standing, only half listening to Professor Scamander.
When class was over, Blaise groused, "I finally understand why he considered his book to be only a brief account of magical creatures."
Blaise nodded his agreement.
Luna, however, said, "I have the extended copy."
"There is an extended copy?" Harry asked.
"Nerd," Theo teased.
Harry flipped him off.
Hermione glanced back at Harry with a dirty look before marching off with Neville at her side. She felt as if he had chosen Luna over her.
Ron was well ahead with Dean and Seamus. Potions, weirdly, had become a point of contention between him and his year mates. Snape no longer picked on him, all his scorn directed toward Ron and Lavender Brown who were the two worst potion makers aside from Neville, who was shielded by Hermione, and Crabbe and Goyle who were Slytherins, thus free from Snape's scorn.
Harry was pretty sure it had something to do with Harris telling the Order of the Phoenix about the Dursleys. Snape no longer treated him like a spoiled brat and without stuff being thrown into his caldron, Harry wasn't actually bad at Potions.
In fact, he liked it. Theo was better at the magical part but Harry was better with the knives. Unsurprising, considering he had been in the kitchen since he was four years old.
"Hey, Harry," Draco called, "Ready to lose tomorrow?"
"Hey Drake, ready to eat my wind?" Harry said with a smile as he walked backwards up the hill.
"In your dreams," the blonde shot back.
"More like my memories," Harry mused, to which Draco shook his head and went back to conversation with Pansy.
Grinning, Harry turned back to his friends, Blaise was asking Luna about the colour of the thestrals' eyes. Harry had never felt so comfortable at Hogwarts before. Draco wasn't popular in Slytherin and Harry had adopted Theo's way of exchanging barbs with him without heat.
Draco had listened to his mother and had stopped trying to really get under Harry's skin. Which Draco was less prone to do since Ron and Hermione had distanced themselves.
Ron thought Harry was a traitor for being friendly with Slytherins.
Hermione couldn't stand Luna's nonsensical commentary or imaginative approach to problems. Harry in turn had started snapping back at Hermione any time she tried to call Luna ridiculous. Now that Neville seemed more confident in himself, he had grown a talent for appeasing Hermoine. He was a good listener and a better peace maker than Harry.
So Hermione had gravitated to Neville, and with space between Harry and her, the Hufflepuffs felt more comfortable around Hermione too. Pretty soon, it was Neville, Hermione, Susan Bones, and Hannah Abbot who were nearly inseparable in classes they shared and outside of class time.
Harry was actually happy for her. The Hufflepuffs were nice enough, though they all seemed to think Harry was supremely dangerous since second year. His dangerous status had not improved by third year when everyone thought Sirius was hunting him, nor in fourth year when he was selected as a competitor against Cedric, disappeared, and had yet another DADA professor be after him specifically.
It was kind of hard to hold that against the Hufflepuffs when Harry himself couldn't exactly fault their reasoning.
This year, Umbridge was also targeting him, though he had given her no reason to. Now that the papers couldn't print anything with his name in it for slander, like they had in fourth year and all this summer, he really didn't understand. Before Sirius's settlement had been signed, Harry's disappearance from the Triwizard Tournament and through the summer had been a ploy from Dumbledore to scare people into thinking Voldemort was back.
Blaise had explained that Harry was still the root of most gossip at school so if Umbridge got one over on him, she was less likely to find resistance from the other students.
Harry had found that smiling at Umbridge was a sure fire way to irritate her, happiness seemed to bother her a lot. But she couldn't give him detention for smiling, nor could she punish him for giving correct answers with a sarcastic tone.
She had tried once, and McGonagall had set the slip on fire and had given Harry a biscuit.
It had been glorious.
"You alright, Harry?" Luna asked.
He nodded, "Head hurts a bit, I think I'm going to turn in early."
Her lips pressed together, "You should eat something."
He smiled at her, "I'm fine, I'll eat in the morning."
Harry didn't end up eating anything in the morning.
His scar had hurt so badly through the night he hadn't been able to sleep. He even told Angelina he wasn't up to being the Seeker today.
Even now, Voldemort's anger was pulsing through him and Harry kept seeing flashes of the Death Eater meeting.
Apparently, Draco's mother, Narcissa Malfoy had switched sides. Draco's father had suffered for that, Voldemort ensured that he did. Now, Voldemort had been forced to move to a new location.
He was angry with everyone for not knowing where Harris Black, for losing Regulus Black. Harris had out shown Voldemort again, and Voldemort was blaming everyone but himself for that.
Harry couldn't exactly figure out what Voldemort wanted the Death Eaters to do, he just knew they weren't getting the results Voldemort wanted. This morning something else had happened.
Abeforth Dumbledore is dead, murdered. I told you all to keep hidden! Voldemort's voice felt like it was coming from Harry's throat even though his lips had been closed
"Angelina," Harry whispered to her as they walked out onto the pitch, the day was cold, the clouds dark, "I don't think I can do this today."
Angelina glared at him, "Then catch the snitch as soon as you can. We will worry about catching up on points in the other matches."
Harry nodded even though his vision was blurry, his head splitting. He thought of telling McGonagall, but the whistle was already being blown.
Harry rose into the air and felt as if he would be pulled away into the wind, his stomach rolled. Luckily, there was nothing in it to come back up. Although, if he had eaten, perhaps he wouldn't feel so dizzy.
He kept rising, and when he was hidden in the clouds, he just sat as he started to see again from Voldemort's eyes.
Friel Nott was on his knees before them.
'What do you know?' they asked the snivelling man.
'Nothing, M'Lord. He was just a bartender-'
'He was a Dumbledore. Or are you telling me it wasn't my mark above the Hogshead?'
'It wasn't me.'
'You were the only one unaccounted for, Nott.'
'I was drinking!'
'Funny how it's the bartender who was murdered then,' they mused, a threat in every syllable.
'M'Lord, no, I was-'
'Crucio,' they said.
Friel's screaming filled them with deep pleasure.
Harry came back to himself, clinging to his broom as he dry heaved, thankfully still in the cover of the clouds.
He needed to land, he couldn't do this, he couldn't be this high up. He felt himself being pulled back into Voldemort's mind and he tensed his muscles hoping against hope that when he came back to his own body he would still be on his broom and not splattered on the ground.
'Why kill him?' they demanded, 'Why use my mark?'
Friel was crying, his face blotchy and red.
It was pathetic.
'MacNair,' they called.
The man knelt, 'Yes, M'Lord.'
'If Friel won't speak, then it would appear he no longer has need for his tongue.'
MacNair smiled with delight as he pulled his wand.
'Wait!' Friel cried, 'I swear, I didn't-'
It was the last thing he managed to scream as MacNair bound him on his knees with a spell, then used a second spell to pull on Friel's tongue. MacNair pulled a fish carving knife from his belt.
They allowed themselves a slight curl of lips, ever pleased at MacNair's flair of cruelty. Only Bella and Barty were more creative. They missed Bella. Barty's intelligence was greater than his devotion.
They watched as MacNair grabbed Friel by his hair with his wand hand and slowly sawed through Friel's tongue with the jagged blade.
Friel's screams were garbled, but high pitched, like a rabbit beneath the claws of a pitiless cat. Soon the man was choking on his own blood. When MacNair finished, the spell that was holding Friel's tongue that had been the cut piece floating as Friel himself fell to the floor, coughing, whimpering as blood gushed from his mouth.
'Cauterize the wound,' Voldemort ordered as Harry fought free of Voldemort's inner thoughts.
Harry was crying, clinging to his broom as he spiraled downward.
Some stroke of fate, of his bad luck, led the snitch to be glinting before him, teasing him.
Harry didn't reach for it. He didn't want to be here, he didn't want to be in Voldemort's mind, he didn't want to see a man being slowly tortured.
Theo's father.
Harry was shaking, tipping his broom for a dive, needing to be on the ground as his vision blurred.
Others were holding Friel as MacNair pointed his wand toward-
Harry would never be able to forget these things he was seeing.
-Harry Potter, Voldemort whispered into his mind, proving that the Dark Lord did indeed know Harry was witnessing this.
-Oh, I know, pet, Voldemort purred. Though even as he dug into Harry's mind, he could feel that his memories were safe. Only his immediate thoughts were viewable.
-Where is Harris Black? Where is the Order of the Phoenix?
Harry panicked, but he honestly didn't know where Harris Black was and he saw in Voldemort's mind that he already knew about Grimmauld Place, already had it staked out.
But the wards were beyond even Voldemort's abilities to get through. The Dark magic that protected it had taken on a life of its own and without a Black to get in to grant him permission to enter, he couldn't enter.
More effective than the Fidelius Charm in many respects.
The ancient Blacks had been more than a little paranoid and their booby-traps were lethal. The floo connection was the only way Voldemort could think to enter unharmed, but someone from inside the domain would have to open the connection ahead of time. Slim chance of stumbling on an Order of the Phoenix member as they were going there.
Voldemort laughed when he read in Harry's mind that the Order of the Phoenix no longer met at Grimmauld.
-Thank you for the information.
Harry came back to himself, Draco soaring beside him. Draco was reaching for the snitch.
Harry pulled his broom back, close enough to the ground to stumble off his broom. He almost didn't hear the roar of approval from the Slytherin stand and the booing from the other stands. He didn't care. He was dizzy, but he had to get help, he needed to get to McGonagall.
"Harry! You alright?" Fred called, soaring down to him.
"You don't look well, mate," George said.
Harry didn't doubt that; he was shaking, his body feverish.
His head splitting as Voldemort teased in his mind, -Tell them who you are. Tell them you gave me the keys to your mind, your soul.
Angelina was suddenly in front of him, screaming at him, "It was right there in front of you! All you had to do was reach for it!"
Harry pushed past her, breaking into an unsteady run.
Which was when he realized that McGonagall was unreachable because Gryfindor house was coming down the stands in an angry mob.
For him.
-You better run, little Potter, Voldemort laughed.
Harry, for the first time ever, listened to Lord Voldemort, and ran on heavy legs toward the castle.
"Harry! You dropped your broom!" someone called to him, but he kept running. He got to the castle before anyone else. Docking into an alcove down one of the halls that led to the dungeons, Harry waited for the students to enter.
Gryfindor was first, complaining loudly and cursing his name. Harry slid to the ground, and didn't dare look up, not even to see if McGonagall was there with them.
Hermione was right, people took Quidditch way too seriously.
-Do not worry, Harry, you will come to me, and I will keep you safe, Voldemort crooned to him.
Harry bit back a laugh and thought back, -I'm not that stupid, you want me dead.
Voldemort hissed in parseltongue, ~Not now that I know you are mine. And I know just the curse to keep you safe.
Harry hugged his legs to his chest, pressing his burning forehead into his knees. He didn't attempt to stand until he heard a much happier group of people coming toward him. He used the wall to help him stand.
"Harry?" Daphne asked.
Harry blacked out for a moment, when he next opened his eyes, Theo and Blaise were standing either side of him.
Harry grabbed Theo's shoulder, he whispered to Theo, "It's your dad… Volde- the Dark Lord, he- he took out his tongue."
-And you enjoyed it.
Harry felt sick, his stomach a chasm of pain.
"Harry," Blaise said, "Your scar is bleeding."
Theo's face was confused for a moment at what Harry had said, before it connected, "You saw this in a vision?"
Harry nodded, "I don't know if your father will survive."
Theo looked at him for a long moment, then said unrepentantly, "Good."
Voldemort laughed, -I like him.
Harry wasn't sure what to think, but Voldemort cackled, -You were going to be sorted into Slytherin House? That's precious.
Harry saw Snape, feeling desperate, he called out, "Professor Snape!"
Snape spun face him, and Harry could only imagine what he saw, a boy barely able to stand in a soaked Quidditch uniform, his face pale, scar bleeding, and fresh tears falling down his cheeks.
Professor Snape shooed everyone along, including Theo and Blaise.
Again, Harry blacked out.
When next he opened his eyes the corridor was empty and Snape had his hands on Harry's shoulders bending down to look into his eyes.
"Harry Potter," Snape was saying, "Can you hear me?"
Harry blinked, "Yes -we can."
Snape reeled back, "Your eyes-"
"Help me," Harry begged, feeling Voldemort shadowing his mind. Harry was not the one in control when he pulled his wand.
"Harry, listen to me, you need to breathe."
"He's inside my head," Harry cried, feeling helpless as Voldemort took control of his limbs.
Harry tried to fight him, but it wasn't like the Imperius curse, there was no soft vagueness to fight, to disbelieve.
There was only pain, such pain.
Snape reached for his wand, but he was too slow.
Harry's voice was not his own as he pointed his wand at the professor and said lazily, "Curcio."
Snape dropped to the ground, his back arching as he fought the pain. He didn't scream, not so much as a whimper.
He was well schooled in pain.
The tendons stood out against the man's strained neck as he attempted to look round at Harry.
It must have been difficult with his black eyes all but rolled back into his head. Snape's arm was shaking hard, almost slapping on the ground as he attempted to raise his wand at Harry.
They didn't take the curse off of him.
"HARRY!"
It was Madame Pomfrey.
Harry released Snape from the Cruciatus Curse and lashed his wand down toward the mediwitch.
Red blossomed down her middle.
She fell to the floor, holding her stomach as the red grew and grew on her white robes.
If Severus didn't stop to heal her, she would die.
Harry ran, his vision going black.
When he next became aware he was pacing in an empty corridor.
Blackness.
He came back screaming, rage burning through him.
Harry looked down at a table where sat a broken diadem, a shattered ring, the stone turned to dust, a golden cup with a crack down its middle, a broken locket with its inside blackened, and a note.
It read:
Dear Mr. I Am Lord Voldemort,
Basilisk fangs are quite nifty.
With Love, Harris Magnolia Black.
Once more, Harry blacked out.
This time, he found himself in the Chamber of Secrets. How he had gotten here, how he had gotten past the cave in, he did not know.
He was alone.
-You will never be alone again, Harry, Voldemort murmured in his mind, the bite of his rage burning at him.
Harry was too weak to stand. With a thought, he realized it was why Voldemort had let go of his control of him. Otherwise, he would have walked out of the school, walked past the protection spells.
All of Dumbledore's careful protections would be for nothing.
But Harry was weak, his limbs shaking, his stomach aching, head pounding, and his face crusted with dried blood.
"Help me," he croaked. "Help!"
He looked around himself for anything, for… the Basilisk skeleton stretched above him, the flesh and scales strangely gone.
"Please help me!" he screamed with all his might, his dry throat burning. His plea echoed around the carven.
But nobody heard him, no one came.
-I heard you, Voldemort told him gleefully.
Harry curled in around himself, cold, hurting… hopeless.
Maybe it was better this way, maybe it was better he died down here. After all, he had tortured Professor Snape with an Unforgivable and he had maybe killed Madam Pomfrey.
So yes, perhaps it was better, better for everyone, if Harry Potter disappeared from the world.
For good this time.
Harry shut his eyes as exhaustion came over him and he waited in the cold deep beneath the bowls of the school with nothing but a skeleton and Voldemort's laughter for company.
Voldemort reminded him that today, as surely the night had passed, was their anniversary.
Happy Halloween.
REMINDER: This is a knowing deviation from canon because this is my fanfiction.
AN: Thoughts about the chapter, falcons, or feedback on the story, pretty please?