Author's Note: Here we go again!
Harry's time with Dracula changed after the conversation at the battlefield. He became more relaxed around the vampire and more open about things. Lucian often found Harry in Dracula's private sitting room, chattering away on one topic or another. Dracula himself spent their time together teaching Harry what it meant to be a leader. The boy didn't realize it, of course, but a comment here and there seemed to affect Harry.
Three days after their talk, Harry was curled up in his new favorite chair, a knitted blanket surrounding him, and Dracula studying the books he had called for earlier in the evening. "Ah, here it is." He said, pulling out a slim volume. "You see, Harry, people look to leaders on how to act. As such, it is important to know how to act in any situation. This book is important for you to read.
Harry accepted the book and opened it to the title page. "A Young Gentleman's Guide?"
"Yes, a book of etiquette. Your aunt has done a fine job so far, but there are situations she may not have experienced." Dracula tapped the book. "You most certainly will experience new situations."
"I don't plan on much of a fancy social life." Harry admitted.
"Well, you never know. Parties happen." Dracula said lightly. He felt a little relieved when Harry didn't say anything.
The clock started chiming the hour and Harry looked up. "I should get to bed." Harry said. "I'll be sure to read this book." Harry stood and Dracula gave him a quick squeeze around the shoulders.
"Good night, Magus."
"Good night, Vlad. I'll see you after my riding lesson?"
"I have some business that will keep me until lunch time; I will join you and your family for lunch."
"Sounds great." Harry said as he left the room.
Dracula watched as Harry walked down the hallway. The boy could be oblivious sometimes, and for that, Dracula was grateful. "Surprises await you, little magus. I don't think you now what fun is to be had."
Harry groaned and rubbed a hand on his forehead. He rolled out of bed and stumbled into his closet. "Alright, I'm coming! Stop it!" he hissed as the steady throbbing increased in strength. He changed into trousers and a button-up shirt. He ran his hand through his hair a couple of times to calm the madness and summoned his cloak and mask. He paused long enough to look in the mirror to change his appearance. He slid his mask on and hissed his password.
He reappeared in the cemetery and slipped through the mists towards the house. No other Death Eaters were about in the hallways. He paused and wondered where Voldemort could be. He heard a door open somewhere to his right. Harry wandered down the hall and ducked into the room.
"Hello, Tom." Voldemort said. "Come here."
"Good evening, sir," Harry said as he stopped next to Voldemort.
"Robinson!" Voldemort called. A Death Eater melted out of the group gathered in the corner. "Tom, this is Robinson. Robinson, my student, Tom." Robinson offered his hand to Harry. "You'll be accompanying Robinson on his raid this evening, Tom. It's time you learned what we do on raids. Make sure you stick with Robinson. No spells from you this evening except shields."
"Yes, sir," Harry said.
"Death Eaters," Voldemort raised his voice. The congregated wizards turned to him. "Go to the portkey point. Tom will join you there."
Harry waited while the group left the room. "I'm going on raids now?"
"It is a vital part of your education," Voldemort answered. "Raids of this level are considered low-risk. Nevertheless, you must stay close to Robinson. Do not do anything you are not told. Come back to me safely."
"Yes, sir." Harry said, giving a sharp nod and turning on his heel.
"Good luck, Harry." Voldemort said softly after the disappearing figure.
Harry joined the Death Eaters outside. "Stay close, young Lord." Robinson said to him as he spotted Harry.
"Certainly." Harry said as the portkey appeared. Harry and the Death Eaters all touched the portkey. Harry felt the hook behind his navel and he managed to keep his feet when they landed. "Where are we?"
"Some Muggle town." Harry nodded and followed Robinson to a house. "Havoc and mayhem, gents." He said to the other Death Eaters. They split off into pairs and started choosing their own houses.
What do I do? How can I help? Harry glanced around the house as they entered. A pile of mail on the table told him where they were. The Death Eaters were attacking a little town called Eastwick. Now, how to let the Order know about it? Harry felt hopelessness well up in his chest and he pushed it down. What would Bleys do? What would he say? No limits. That's right! No limits!
Harry heard the first screams shatter the night and he allowed his eyes to slide shut in preparation as he was pushed behind the Death Eater with Robinson. Magic, his magic, gathered. YES? YES? WHAT? WHAT DO YOU NEED?
FOOL THE DEATH EATERS! He ordered the magic. He felt it spread out and a mass illusion fell over the town. Harry reached out one tendril of magic towards his belongings in his suite at Dracula's house and found the paper he was using to contact McGonagall. He hoped Lucian wasn't in his room as the pen started moving.
Champion here. There is a Death Eater attack happening at Eastwick. Ten Death Eaters, and me. Send someone soon.
He returned his full attention to the attacks, to brush against each Death Eater's mind to discover which spells they were going to cast, and then create an illusion that they could both feel and experience at the same time.
This act of magic was like juggling in no gravity. His attention was split in several different directions at once, so he had no attention left for his immediate surroundings. Screams continued, but no one was screaming. The Cruciatus curses continued, but no one felt pain. Muggles died, but their hearts continued to beat. No one noticed the sweat running down Harry's forehead or the shaking in his limbs. You have no limits to your magic, child, so long as your physical strength will hold out. Harry continued until he felt the whispers of unconsciousness slide around his ears. I just have to hold on until...
His legs collapsed and he dropped to his knees as he heard the sounds of Apparition. Finally.
"Young lord?" Robinson turned away from the Muggles and dropped to a knee in front of Harry. "What is wrong?"
"I've been ill, Robinson." Harry rasped out. "Just ill." The door slammed open as the Order poured into the house. The other Death Eater started to leap for the back door, but stopped and grabbed Robinson. Harry felt Robinson try to grab him, but Harry was nothing but dead weight, and the second Death Eater dragged Robinson away.
Harry pushed himself up against the wall and tried to stand. Why do I continue to let things like this happen? He looked up as Tonks and Zareh came into the room. Tonks rushed towards the Muggles and Zareh approached Harry, his wand ready and pointing straight at Harry's head.
"The Muggles are unharmed.," Tonks said. "Just a little confused."
"Good. This one doesn't look too good." Zareh said, gesturing at Harry.
"You are no ray of sunshine yourself, William," Harry rasped out in Tom's accent. "Particularly when you have not had your tea."
"Tom?" Zareh said in shock. "Is that you?"
"You are a pathetic spy, William." Harry said. Okay, so he was feeling a little cranky at the moment. "You continue to blow your cover."
"What's wrong with you?"
Harry shrugged. "I've been ill."
Tonks stared at Harry for a second and then disappeared through the door.
"He's sending you on raids, now?" Zareh sounded angry.
"Eh." Harry shrugged. "I'm only here for the popcorn." He flinched as he felt Voldemort's anger surge and raised a hand to his head. He Occluded.
"Tom? Are you alright?"
Harry stared at him. What an odd question. "Fine. Just tired." Harry cocked his head to the side. "I'm not going to do anything, you know. You can put the wand down."
Tonks returned and McGonagall followed along behind her. She stopped in shock and stared at Harry. "Professor Zareh, who is this?"
"This is the Dark Lord's student," He told her. "This is Tom." McGonagall turned to stare at him with a new look in her eyes. "Tom, Professor McGonagall."
Harry felt a sliver of strength returning and he pushed himself to his feet. "Professor McGonagall, it is nice to meet you in person."
"Likewise." McGonagall looked him over. "Could you please remove your mask?"
"I understand the aversion to it, but I would prefer not to," he said.
"Please, Tom." McGonagall said. Harry sighed and sent a little magic to insure that his physical changes stayed. He felt strength leave him again and he leaned against the wall as he removed his mask. McGonagall's face fell a bit.
"I know I am no Gilderoy Lockheart, but I do not think I look that bad." Harry said, stung just a bit.
"I had thought you were someone else." McGonagall admitted.
"I understand." Harry took a deep breath and let it out slowly, hoping that his magic would return to him. He felt ill, truly, and wanted nothing more than his bed.
She took in sweat damp hair and haggard appearance and gasped. "You are unwell?" McGonagall said.
"I'm recovering from an illness." Harry said. "I'm afraid I need to sit down." Harry started to sink back to the floor, but Zareh stepped forward and caught him. McGonagall gestured Zareh out the door.
"We'll take him to Hogwarts."
"NO!" Harry pulled away from Zareh, only to be stopped by Tonks. The witch threw an arm around his shoulders and Apparated. Hogwarts appeared before his eyes and he groaned. "Why did you bring me here?"
"You need medical attention," McGonagall said as she appeared behind him. "I refuse to allow a child in your condition to go without a qualified medical attendant."
"I'll be fine in twenty minutes. Besides, the Dark Lord sees to my needs just fine."
"I doubt it," McGonagall said sharply. "Indulge an old woman."
"You are hardly old," Harry said, "but very manipulative." Harry pulled out his wand and focused on the group.
"Tom, you're not marked. You're little more than a child. Just let our nurse take a look at you."
"A child?" Harry raised his wand. "Do you really think so?" He focused his meager magic and a large fireball rolled across Hogwarts grounds. Harry turned and ran the moment they were all distracted. He passed the gate and whispered his portkey password. He saw McGonagall turn as the portkey whisked him away.
He dropped to his knees in the cemetery and caught his breath. Harry shook it off and climbed to his feet. He was still weak, still shaky, but he knew that sleep would come only after he placated the Dark Lord. He entered the house to the sound of screams. Voldemort is obviously displeased. Harry threw open the doors and strode into the room.
"Sir? I'm back." He said to Voldemort.
Voldemort turned and stared at him for a second. "Tom?"
"It wasn't Robinson's fault," Harry told him. "The Order forced them to leave. I was the easiest to leave behind to make sure that everyone else could get away."
"Dismissed!" Voldemort snapped to the gathered Death Eaters. They filed out one by one, casting nervous glances over their shoulders at the boy standing without fear in their lord's presence.
"Explain yourself." Voldemort's anger leaked into his voice.
This explanation thing is becoming just a little annoying. "The Order was coming. We all needed to get out. I haven't been Marked. The Order saw a boy when they looked at me, just as I knew they would. You forget, sir, that I know the Order. I know how they operate. Until they see me Marked, I'm a misguided little boy, not a Death Eater."
Voldemort's expression slowly turned from furious to contemplative. He stepped away from Harry and nodded. "You did well," he told Harry after a long moment. "Indeed, I did not expect such high levels of manipulation from you."
"Thank you, sir." Harry said. "Is it alright if I return home now? I'm a little tired."
"Yes, rest well." Voldemort said, waving him away. Harry said good-bye and left the room. A figure appeared in front of him and Harry stopped.
"Hello, Robinson," Harry said. "What can I do for you?"
"Thank you," Robinson said quietly.
"Not a problem," Harry told him. "I know you tried to take me with you. I understand."
"I think the Dark Lord underestimates you, young Lord."
"Thank you for the compliment." Harry tried to keep back a sigh. "In the meantime, you might keep your thoughts about me to yourself."
Robinson merely nodded and moved out of Harry's way. Harry left the mansion and hissed his password. He reappeared in his suite at Dracula's house. He removed his robe and stowed it and his mask back into the case. He stripped off his clothes and stepped into the shower. The water steamed around him as he leaned against the wall, trying to banish the screams he had heard. The images he had conjured, the feelings he had needed to conjure them...it all frightened him. He let the water pound down on him, hoping he could wash everything away.
He left the shower and dressed in new pajamas. He dried his hair as best he could and hung up the towel. He slid into bed and stared at the canopy above him. Harry traced the pattern on the canopy with his eyes for almost an hour before he admitted to himself that he still felt slightly ill, even though his magic had recovered by this point. I had to do it. I couldn't let all of those people die. I-
He pushed himself out of bed and found his robe. He needed to wander around for a while, but he also knew that Dracula would have a fit if he found Harry wandering around without one. The days were warm here, but the nights could be very cool. Harry left his room and meandered down the hallway. He stopped and looked at the works of art and pieces displayed on little pedestals. Harry was beginning to appreciate the still art he found here. He could stand and stare at it without having to make conversation with a cranky subject. He could sum up the difference between this art and Hogwarts' art: Sir Cadogan.
He looked to his left and saw that he was close to his aunt's room. That was what he wanted, an adult that would tell him everything would be okay, no matter what was going on in the world. The headlines tomorrow in London would scream about the Dark Lord's student; tonight, he only wanted someone that wouldn't demand anything from him.
Harry ended up in front of her door just a few minutes later, only to stall before knocking. He stared at the grain of the wood of her door, pondering the wisdom of disturbing his aunt at this hour. The decision was taken from him when the door flew open and his aunt stood there.
"Harry? What's wrong?" She asked. She studied him for a second. Harry could only give a little shrug in response. She stepped back and motioned for him to come into her room. Harry obeyed and she led him to an overstuffed sofa. She pulled him down next to her and nudged him to lean against her. "Having a rough night?"
"Yeah," He said. "I just couldn't settle to sleep." He told her. "My mind is too busy."
"Ah, I understand," she said, pulling an afghan off the armrest of the couch and draping it over them. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"Not really," Harry said. "It's just...can I still be a good person if I have to do some bad things from time to time?"
Petunia tightened her arms around him and sighed. "I think that the fact that you are worried about it says enough, don't you?" She asked softly.
Harry leaned back against her and nodded. "Paul said something like that before."
"Then it must be true," Petunia said. "Paul knows what he is talking about. You have another follow-up appointment with him coming up when we get home. You should bring up these feelings you're having with him."
"Yeah," Harry said. The two lapsed into silence and Harry fell into a slight doze as Petunia started running a hand through his hair. He relaxed against his aunt and sighed in contentment.
"Is he asleep?" Khalid asked Petunia.
"You really shouldn't sneak up on me," Petunia told him. "I've been known to carry a cast iron skillet."
"Truly a formidable woman," Dracula said as he appeared.
"You better believe it," Remus said. He took out his wand and transfigured the couch into a queen-sized bed. "Everyone in. Quietly." Remus took the space on the other side of Harry. Dracula and Khalid took up the leftover space and they all settled for the night.
"Is he alright?" Dracula asked softly.
"For now," Petunia told him. "Just let him sleep." The adults all dropped off one by one, except Petunia. She stayed awake, watching Harry and running an occasional hand through his hair.