Author's Note: Here it is, as promised! I'm off to study for my final now. Wish me luck!
Harry woke in the middle of the night to throbbing in his forehead. Not this again. Alden sat up with a concerned look. What's wrong, Harry? Harry pushed the dog off the bed and struggled out from under his blankets to sit up on the edge of the bed. He buried his face in his hands and groaned softly, not prepared at all to go handle the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters.
"Nothing, Alden. Just something I have to do." He told the dog while reaching out a blind hand and patting the furry head.
You're going to the Dark Lord, aren't you? Alden asked, nuzzling Harry.
"Yes, I'm going to the Dark Lord. Stay here. I should be back before dawn. If I'm not...stall the family."
And how am I supposed to do that? Harry swore that Alden was channeling Severus Snape in that response. It sounded just like him.
"That was spooky. Don't do that again. I'm sure you'll figure out something, being the resourceful familiar you are." Harry got up from his bed and went over to his wardrobe. He pulled on a simple pair of black trousers and shrugged when the first shirt he found was black. Severus Snape seems to be a theme this evening. He thought as he found his mask and robes.
Be careful, Harry. Alden said as Harry activated the portkey that would take him to Voldemort.
Harry appeared in the graveyard and paused for a moment to catch his breath. He still felt horrible and wanted nothing more than to crawl back into his bed. Time to find out what your limits are, Potter. He pulled himself up and closed his eyes to focus on pulling the young Dark Lord forward. This part was no longer fun, and he hoped that soon...very soon...he would be able to rid himself of this persona. Of course, the same day he did so would be the same day he died, but he would still have a few moments of freedom from the young Dark Lord before he died, wouldn't he?
"Milord?" A hesitant voice said a moment later. "Are you well?"
"Fine, Robinson." Harry said softly. "I've been under the weather the last few days is all." Harry opened his eyes and studied the Death Eater standing before him. "How is the Dark Lord?"
Robinson's stance changed, as though surprised by Harry's question.
"Robinson?" Harry stared at the man, willing him to answer the question.
"He's…different." Robinson said carefully. "Very different, milord. I can see why my father was so taken with his ideas. It's difficult to explain."
Harry thought back to Bleys's explanation about how Harry should not have healed Voldemort's memory. Time to go see the damage, I guess. Harry nodded and then moved towards the house, almost afraid of what he would find. Robinson followed him, giving Harry a moment of surprise. "Why do you follow me, Robinson?"
"Attempting to curry favor with the Heir apparent to the Dark Lord's power?" Robinson said in a joking tone. Harry felt his lips twitch, and then spread into a grin behind his mask.
"Very well, Robinson. I have to warn you, I am still a child and given to a bit of petulance from time to time, especially when I don't want to get out of bed."
"I'll make sure you sleep as long as you like." Robinson followed Harry into the house and Harry had to ponder this new development. Am I gathering followers? Robinson seems to think I'm going to outlast the Dark Lord. As they went down the hallway, various Death Eaters, mostly young ones, greeted him with "good evenings, milord" or other variations of the same. It was slightly disturbing. What's happened?
Harry entered the room holding the Dark Lord and peered through the darkness on one side. "I am here in the corner, child." Voldemort's voice hissed out to him. Harry went over to the man's side. "Good evening, sir." He said softly.
"Ah, Tom!" Voldemort lowered the hood of his robes and Harry almost had to step back in shock. This…was truly Lord Voldemort. A youthful face greeted him, with dancing eyes of cruel blue and hair draped down to his shoulders. The only snake-like thing left of the previous incarnation was his manner. He gave off an air of a serpent coiled and ready to strike. Ruthlessness wafted about him, and a teasing smile played on his face, taunting Harry to question him.
"It's good to see you looking so well, sir." Harry said, stepping back as though to study the man better. In reality, he was fighting the urge to run.
"Thank you, my child. Thank you for saving me from madness. You shall be rewarded soon for your part in my total recovery." Voldemort lapsed into silence for a moment and studied Harry. "Now, we shall manage to defeat our enemies and put into place all of your plans." Harry had to fight to remember what he meant by Harry's plans, but his memories came back to him and he shuddered. Schmooze at the Ministry on behalf of this man? No, thank you. "Excited, my child?"
Harry only nodded, unable to come up with a proper response. Voldemort stepped forward as the Death Eaters gathered around and stepped forward into the light. As one, the Death Eaters gasped. Harry was sure he heard someone swear under his breath. Harry understood the sentiment. He wanted to swear as well. Loudly and creatively.
"Good evening, my followers." Voldemort said as he peered around the room. Harry wanted to laugh. Perhaps the Death Eaters were loyal to this farce of a man now, but Harry had a feeling he could sway them to his side. Dangerous thinking, Harry. I'm sure Dumbledore's had a few of those thoughts. Harry put his good intentions aside and focused on Voldemort. He needed to pay attention to the man.
"Tonight, my followers, we have a lovely target, one that should announce to all that we will no longer tolerate the corruption and inefficacy of the Ministry of Magic. The institution is failing our great society. They do nothing but debate and push aside the problems we face. They cannot protect our lives, much less our lifestyles. The Ministry does not care for the people as it should; the members of the Ministry care only for their personal power and how to keep it. The children of our great society are the ones hurt the most by this, as they cannot defend themselves. My own apprentice was a victim of this, as he was housed with relatives that did not care for him or his heritage of wizardry."
Harry only clenched his fist in his robes and decided not to kill the man for revealing his past. The circle isn't complete. He hasn't offered anything of himself to you yet. Not yet. None of the Death Eaters looked surprised. Okay, must find out the rumors about the young Dark Lord.
Harry turned his attention back to Voldemort, as he realized he was missing something vital. "-will attack the corruption at the source and advance our cause into society. We must protect wizardry from outside influences and root out corruption in every form, in every department, until the Ministry is filled with those willing to do what they must to ensure that every wizarding man, woman, and child will be protected."
Man, he's good. Harry thought as Voldemort closed his speech. The Dark Lord turned towards Harry for a moment. "You will lead the attack, my child. You will lead the others to the Minister's house and take the head off at the shoulders." A cold chill settled around Harry's shoulders and he felt his face drain of color behind his mask. "You must remove the Minister from office…preferably from his existence."
"I've wanted to do this for a while now," Harry told him honestly. Fudge was the worst sort of politician, eager to please his cronies and caring little for the well-being of those under him. However, Harry certainly didn't want to kill him. It would be a waste of good magic to kill such a person.
"Very good," Voldemort said. "Death Eaters, assemble outside. The young Dark Lord will join you momentarily." The Death Eaters filed out, a little too quickly for Harry's liking. They were all intimidated by this improved version of an insane madman, and Harry understood why. This man, this monster wearing a human shape, was far more dangerous than the dilapidated version of before. This man knew he could…and would…win with little to no opposition from the Light Side. This is the man Dumbledore feared would return, feared he would win. Harry understood. All at once, Harry understood Dumbledore more than he wanted to. His anger with the man started to melt away. He desperately tried to hang onto it, feeling as though it was too early to forgive the man, but he couldn't. Having faced this version of the Dark Lord, experiencing his power, was enough to teach Harry that he didn't know everything. I understand everything, Professor Dumbledore.
"Ah, my child. I can't begin to thank you enough," Voldemort said as he stepped forward and gathered Harry into his arms. "I don't know what you did, but suddenly everything is so clear, so straightforward. I have no confusion left…no furious headaches…I feel like myself again." Voldemort stepped back and placed his hands on Harry's shoulders, studying Harry behind the mask. "How did you do it?"
Harry pondered what to say in response. "Sir, your mind was strange. I'm not even sure what I did."
"Remove your mask," Voldemort ordered, his expression suddenly hard. Harry did as he was told and lowered the mask. Voldemort studied his face. Harry stared back at him, barely moving. "You look unwell. Are you up to this?"
Harry backed away one step and leaned against the wall. "I'm not getting much sleep. That's all."
"You're not getting sleep because I've been summoning you." Voldemort said more to himself than to Harry. "After tonight, I won't summon you for a week." Voldemort waved his wand and two potions flew into the room. "In the meantime, take these."
Harry took the offered potions and studied them through the vials. One looked like a Pepper-Up potion, and the other looked like a typical Strengthening potion. Harry had to wonder if this was a test, and paused only briefly before downing them and grimacing against the taste. "I wish they would make them taste better." Harry said as his ears gave a puff of steam from the Pepper-Up. "I should go now, sir. Before the boys get restless."
"Go now, child. Come to me after you've completed your task." Voldemort told him. "Please take care."
Harry stopped at that sentiment. He had heard Remus say similar things to him and Dudley when they were headed out for a day of teenage mischief (which usually meant going to see a film). Dare he say it? Was Voldemort being paternal? That was a little scary and he pushed aside the thoughts as he left the room. He didn't want to think about it.
Minerva sat up in bed and stared around her darkened room, wondering at what woke her. There was a chime like a grandfather clock, and a flashing light from under the door. She pushed back the blankets and pulled on her robe. She had to wonder if this was some sort of prank the students might have left behind, though such occurrences had become a rarity after the Weasley twins had left Hogwarts.
She opened her bedroom door and entered her sitting room to see the parchment she had received from Tom flashing a bright light. She noted the clever charm work and then picked up the parchment to see the message in big block letters.
THE MINISTER IS IN DANGER. I WILL DO WHAT I CAN. EXPECT HIM TO BE DELIVERED TO HOSPITAL WING.
Minerva stared at the words for just a few seconds before she dropped the paper into her robe pocket and left her rooms to alert Poppy. She wanted to be there when the Minister arrived. Perhaps the man could answer a few questions for her…and perhaps she could do something to help the young Dark Lord.
Harry apparated in with the other Death Eaters outside Minister Fudge's house and wondered at the lack of security on the place. It was a tidy little house with a garden. It had a little wooden fence surrounding it, and the wards against Muggles tingled against Harry's skin. He took a moment to probe deeper and felt nothing. No anti-magic, anti-Apparation, Fidelus, nothing! Was the Minister this ridiculously confident about his chances of survival against Lord Voldemort? Crazy (and slowly becoming saner as the man was), yes, but still a dangerous opponent and one prone to attacking at random was not someone to underestimate under any circumstances. This was sheer stupidity.
"Secure the perimeter," Harry told Robinson. "If there are any guards, make sure they survive your encounter. Taking lives aimlessly only sends a message of terrorism, and not of political maneuvering. We're here to remove the Minister from office. Nothing more."
Robinson paused for a moment as he took in Harry's words. Harry stood, trying to look every inch of a possible leader. How do leaders look? Was it something in the way they stood, how they spoke? What made a leader? Robinson nodded suddenly.
"Yes, sir. Remove the Minister from office. We understand, sir." Robinson gave orders to the other Death Eaters and came back to Harry's side. "Let's go remove the Minister from office, sir."
"I am capable of doing this alone, Robinson." Harry scowled beneath his mask.
"May I speak plainly?" Robinson paused for Harry's nod. "You look as though you're going to fall over. You've been ill, and I refuse to let you go into the unknown in this condition without someone to watch your back. Besides, all Dark Lords have a..right-hand man, and you need someone with you."
Harry watched the other Death Eaters melt into the darkness and out of earshot. "And if I do something…out of the ordinary to remove the Minister from office? Something of which the Dark Lord may not approve?"
"With all due respect, milord, while you're younger than me, I can also see the winning side with no help from anyone else. I think you're the future." Robinson said. "I was not joking with you earlier. While you serve the Dark Lord, I too shall serve. Should you strike out on your own…" Robinson shrugged and left the rest unsaid.
"There's only one thing wrong with your equation, Robinson. I serve no one at all." Harry told him. "I'm caught in circumstances, just as you were when your family forced you to join. I had no choice. I am what I am." Harry pulled his robes tighter around him. "Follow me, if you like. Just don't be surprised if you wake up one day and I am gone."
"As you wish, milord." Robinson said. Harry only shook his head at the man's stubbornness. Let the fool follow me. He stands a better chance of survival at any rate.
Harry and Robinson entered the house and Harry wanted to laugh at the floral patterns. Did Fudge's mother decorate this for him? Eeugh. It was not attractive at all. Doilies…he has doilies? Do we have the right house? Harry and Robinson turned to each other at the same time and gave each other the same look. Doilies. "Let's get this over with." Harry said softly. "I feel as though the doilies may mutiny at any time."
"Yes, milord." Robinson agreed. The two checked all of the rooms downstairs and then started up the stairs. Two of the rooms were empty and held nothing more than the impersonal guest room air. The third room held an elderly woman who looked a bit like Fudge. Ah, mama Fudge. Harry stepped into the room and looked down at her. She'd be worried sick if she woke up and found Fudge gone. Robinson seemed to give him a questioning look and Harry held up a finger to his lips. Harry looked around the room for a suitable Portkey and picked up a pincushion. He pulled up a little magic and made the pincushion into a Portkey with its destination set for the Hogwarts infirmary. Harry put the pincushion in the woman's hand and watched as the magic activated and sucked her away to Hogwarts.
"Thing for the ladies, milord?" Robinson asked as they left the room and continued down the hallway.
"I am starting to understand mothers and their role is all," Harry said as he stopped in the hallway. "I don't remember mine, and I often didn't understand them…I'm starting to understand now. She would have been beside herself with worry."
"I'm afraid I don't understand, milord."
"Neither do I," Harry admitted. He pushed open the last door and found the Minister. The man's bedroom was a bit more masculine than the furniture downstairs, which probably meant that Mama Fudge had the decorating reins in this house. Fudge's bedroom was obviously his sanctuary. The man himself was asleep in bed, a roll of parchment resting on his chest and a tiny reading light was still on. Fudge, falling asleep over work? Harry stepped forward and searched for Fudge's wand. He reached out and removed it from the bedside table before handing it to Robinson. Hmm.
"Wake up!" Harry hissed. Fudge jerked awake and stared at the two of them in terror.
"Wha-what do you you wa-want?" Fudge managed to stammer out. He looked between the two of them and registered the fact that they were Death Eaters. "Are you here to kill me?" The terror in his voice seemed to ratchet up a notch.
"Kill you?" Harry asked, stepping back. "No, I don't want to kill you, though the Dark Lord did give me the option."
Fudge looked at Harry more closely. "Who are you?"
Harry smiled behind his mask, the young Dark Lord settling more firmly in his stance as the character started taking over. "I am rumor," Harry told him happily. "I am the young Dark Lord." He leaned in towards Fudge. "I love being nothing more than rumor and fancy. You help the newspapers along so well in that regard."
"You? You're the young Dark Lord?" Fudge looked behind Harry at Robinson. "Is that-?"
"Lord Voldemort?" Harry asked. "No, that's not the Dark Lord. That is my minion." Behind him, Robinson snorted. "What? I gave you a chance to change your mind. For now, I can call you my minion."
"I must be dreaming." Fudge said, his voice suddenly detached. "I am dreaming that the young Dark Lord and his…"
"Minion," Harry supplied helpfully.
"Minion are in my room." Fudge finished. "That's all this is, a dream."
"If this is a dream, this is the part where you ask what we want." Harry was having a bit of fun with this. Who knew Fudge could be this stupid?
"What do you want?" Fudge asked, his tone obviously playing along.
"Simple, Minister. The Dark Lord does not want you to be Minister. He gave me two ways to go about this. He said, 'You must remove the Minister from office…preferably from his existence.'." Nice, huh? So, the options you have is to die, which is quite messy, by the way, or you can leave your office, and live. The choice is up to you." Harry let his weight rock back on his heels and waited.
"This is a dream," Fudge murmured to himself. "Nothing more than a dream."
Harry gritted his teeth and gave a silent sigh. He reached out and gave the Minister a light smack on the back of his head. The man dropped the parchment he was holding and froze. "Still think this a dream?" Harry asked. He picked up a quill from the bedside table and made it into a Portkey, holding it out to the Minister. "Two choices, Minister. One: take the quill, be delivered to safety where your mother is waiting and agree to leave your office of your own free will, or two: refuse the offer of safety and I will make sure you leave your office by whatever means I deem necessary. It's up to you. All you have to do it take the quill."
Harry held out the quill and waited patiently. Robinson walked up next to him and stood glaring down at the man. Under the combined weight of two Death Eaters' stares, Fudge reached up and took the quill. A second after he touched it, he disappeared, leaving the bed empty.
"That wasn't so hard," Harry said as he stepped back from the bed.
"Where did you send them?" Robinson asked.
"It's better if you don't know," Harry said. "Unfortunately for the Minister, there was a slight coercion spell on the quill. He'll be leaving his office first thing in the morning." Harry told him.
"Nice thinking," Robinson said. Harry only nodded and saw the parchment on the floor. "What's that?"
Harry picked up the parchment and studied it. "It was that parchment he fell asleep with. It looks like he fell asleep working on it." Harry turned it towards the light and started reading through the text. He snickered and then held it up. "It looks like the start of a romance novel!" Harry announced. Imagine the Minister writing- "Robinson, get out of here!" Harry had time to say as he felt a hook in his navel as the Portkey activated and dragged him backwards out of the Minister's house.
Harry landed outside the gates of Hogwarts with an audible bang as he hit the ground. He lay there, stunned as his eyes displayed fireworks. He reached back a hand and felt a growing bump swelling on the back of his head. Brilliant. I really hate unexpected Portkeys. He pushed himself up slowly, pausing to make sure his injury was nothing more than a slight bump on the head. He made it to a sitting position and rested his head in his hands for a moment. My head hurts. He took off his Death Eater mask and folded it inside his robes.
The Portkey must have been Fudge's escape plan. Harry thought as he incinerated the parchment with a thought. He pushed himself to his feet. He swayed a little and groaned. Definitely hurt something. He stepped forward to lean against the gates. He was surprised when the gates unlatched without his touching the latch. Odd. He stepped forward through the gates and a distinct feeling came over him. It was warm and tingly at the same time, and gave him a sense that he was being welcomed home. He had felt this before with the wards around Bleys' cottage; Bleys had explained the feeling as the wards recognizing him and basically saying hello.
Hogwarts? He questioned the wards with a tendril of magic. The feelings he received back were nearly overwhelming. Happiness and welcome flooded into him, chasing away the negative feelings he'd had earlier in the evening. The feeling shifted, and Harry knew that this was better than Fawkes singing. Giddiness built in him, and he couldn't help laughing a little. The feelings changed to eagerness about something.
What? What is it that you want? Harry felt Hogwarts drawing him nearer to the school. You want me to come inside? Assent met his question. I don't think that is a good idea.
A single feeling, so strong it was nearly a complete thought and voice, came back to him: NONSENSE.
Harry smiled to himself and shook his head. Alright, I'll come inside, dear lady. If any of the staff try to arrest me, I'm counting on you to get me out.
Hogwarts' feelings came through again and Harry smiled. She was a stubborn castle. The feelings had a feminine tinge, and Harry had the distinct impression he was being laughed at while he followed the path to the school.
When he reached the doors, one swung open for him. You are starting to scare me. He sent to Hogwarts. Again, the sense of laughter returned. He shook his head and stepped inside. The door swung shut behind him. This is how horror films start. Again, laughter. Harry stood for a moment, questioning the wisdom of being here. He stepped back as an archway appeared to his right. Secret passage just for me? He studied it and stared at the symbol on the top. A circle, and in the middle of the circle was a lightning bolt. Fancy. What does it stand for?
Harry felt a gathering feeling in the magic around him, and then a word rang in his head so loud that he covered his ears out of reflex. MAGUS.
He looked back up at the symbol and then rubbed his scar in disbelief. You must be joking.
Enter, magus. Harry startled at the voice in his head. Hogwarts. It was Hogwarts. He shrugged and entered the passageway. Surprisingly, there was no dust, dripping water, or cobwebs, like the secret passageways he had seen on the telly. Instead, the walls were made out of a cream-colored stone, the floor was smooth flagstone, and overhead were silver lamps emitting a flame that gave a dancing light in the corridor. Every thirty or forty paces was an archway with the magus symbol overhead.
Why haven't I seen this before? He couldn't help but ask. Again, that strange gathering of power, and then his answer, again in words he could hear in his head.
You could not hear me. The words came tinged with regret and sadness. Too busy, too scared, too angry.
I'm sorry. Harry told the school. Growing up is difficult.
Yes.
Will I be able to hear you again, after tonight?
He felt a happiness float about him. Always while you're on the grounds, now that you've heard me. Harry had to fight a slight bubble of hysteria when his mind finally processed that he was talking to a 1,000 year old castle. He mentally babbled to himself that he was talking to HOGWARTS.
So, where am I going? He asked after a few minutes of walking. In answer, another archway opened into a dimly lit room. Harry didn't recognize it and he paused.
It's safe. Hogwarts assured him. Harry paused for a minute or two before stepping through the archway and into the room. The archway closed up behind him. He looked the room over and decided it had a comfortable feel to it. This room was a sitting room. There were some squashy chairs in one corner, and in between them was a chessboard, waiting for its players. By the fireplace were two wingback chairs, facing the dim light of the fire. In the opposite corner was a desk piled high with parchment scrolls and dusty looking books. A few pictures adorned the walls, but none of them held people, only animals or landscape scenes. Another door off to Harry's left revealed a darkened bedroom.
"Hello, young Dark Lord Tom," A voice said from one of the wingback chairs. Harry froze as Dumbledore stood up and turned to face him. The man looked a little better than the last time Harry had seen him. Harry wondered what had changed in the man. Dumbledore wove around the chairs and came to stand in front of Harry. "Good evening, Harry."