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The Shadow of Death
Chapter 11: Fickle Memories
The dust of the abandoned storage closet tickled Harry's nose. The ticking of his watch reverberated in the small, stone room. He glanced at it and ground his teeth.
'She is late,' he thought, 'and for our first meeting no less.'
Tension in the castle was high, ready to boil over at any moment. Earlier that day he had seen a seventh year Slytherin put a young Gryffindor "in their proper place". These meetings were important, if only so he could keep the peace.
"Yet you kill these students' parents." The Elder Wand chilled his arm to the bone. "You are weak. Together, we can be strong."
"I am not weak," Harry hissed.
His mind dragged Oswin Nott's broken, bloody body to its forefront. He shivered against the man's screams echoing in his ears.
"You lie to yourself," the Elder Wand said, "but you cannot lie to me. As an assassin you killed targets, but never people. And now? Now, they consume you."
Harry clapped his hands over his ears. "Shut up!"
The Elder Wand cackled in the recesses of his mind. Nott's screams clamoured in his skull, threatening to burst. His vision blurred and iron filled his nose.
"Your victims haunt you, make you less. But I can make you whole again. Become the Master of Death."
Harry drowned in a sea of mad cackles, murmurs, and screams. The currents surged, yet he surged against them as blood dripped from his nose onto the stone floor.
"No," he choked.
The singular word reverberated around the room and the Wand fell silent.
He gasped for breath, toiling against the cold air that pierced his lungs. He strained his eyes, red stars filling his darkened vision, as he wrestled thoughts of Nott to the recesses of his mind.
A sense of calm washed over him like a cool breeze, his mind quieting. Harry wiped the congealed blood that had accumulated on his upper lip.
Harry straightened when he heard the door open. Greengrass's blonde hair fluttered behind her as she entered the room.
"You are late." Harry looked at the door, his voice low. "And you were followed."
Eyes narrowed, Greengrass stood ramrod straight. "I wasn't followed. And who were you talking to just now?"
Harry strode to the door. Magic tickled his senses. He smirked beneath his cowl. "You are of course correct." He leaned against the door. "What news do you have?"
"Umbridge has upset the Slytherins." Greengrass inspected her nails. "She started giving us detentions for the smallest of infractions."
"Not unexpected," he replied, "but altogether unimportant."
Blue eyes shifted to him and narrowed. "What did you do?"
Harry cleared his throat and hissed, "What else?"
Greengrass stalked toward him. "Whatever you're doing affects us. I want to know what you're doing."
His breath came out in a stream of fog. She backed away from him.
"That was not our deal, Greengrass," Harry growled. "The less you know the better. Now tell me what you have found."
The blonde witch squared her shoulders and raised her nose in the air, trembling faintly.
She shrugged. "It's mostly Malfoy running his mouth again. He's boasting about the Dark Lord taking residence in their home." Greengrass scoffed. "Hogwash, if you ask me."
He jolted from the door. "Did Malfoy mention his residence by name?"
Jerking, she shot him an odd look. "No… He just kept saying, 'my home'."
'That confirms my theory then,' Harry thought.
He waved his hand. "Continue, Greengrass."
"Theo Nott has been quiet." She turned to stare at a wall. "Tracey told me about it. He's upset over his father."
"Do you think he will seek reprisal?" Harry crossed his arms.
Greengrass shook her head and rubbed her hands together. "No. He's upset because Lord Nott was his father, but he's also relieved that the man is dead. It's complicated."
"He has nothing to fear from me if he does not take the Mark." Harry noted the magical presence in the hallway moving closer. "Is there anything else?"
"Only that the upper years have been quiet of late," she replied. "I think they're planning something, but they're leaving me out of it."
Harry nodded and opened the door. The magical signature retreated to their left.
"Then find out what you can, Greengrass," he whispered.
She shot him an odd look as she left the room. Harry followed her out and stopped inches away from the invisible person in the hall.
Once Greengrass had rounded a corner he looked to his left. "Miss Delacour, it is rude to eavesdrop."
He heard robes shuffling as the Veela moved to grab her wand. He grabbed her wrist and summoned the wand to his other hand.
A gasp met his ears as he dragged her into the room. Harry tossed her into the room and dispelled her disillusionment charm. Sparks licked at her fingertips.
"You knew I was zhere ze entire time." Fury dripped from her words.
"I did." Harry ran his hand along her wand. "And you heard everything."
He took a step forward but stopped when a fireball formed in her hand.
"I am not 'elpless." Her face was screwed into a feral expression. "'Oo are you and why are you 'ere?"
Shadows leaked like slime from his body, filling the small enclosure. With a thought, Harry conjured ropes behind her.
Delacour's bound form fell to the stone floor with a yelp.
"Perhaps you are more helpless than you first realised." Harry crouched over her prone form. "Who I am is not important."
Delacour scowled up at him. "You disappeared from ze school a week ago and a day later a student's father was announced dead in 'is 'ome. I do not zhink it is coincidence."
"You have followed me for some time." Harry stroked his chin beneath his cowl. "Now, what shall I do with you?"
She bristled beneath the ropes.
"You will not 'arm me." Delacour raised her chin.
Harry stood and looked down at her. She struggled against her bonds.
"I will not," he replied. "But I cannot allow you to have knowledge of me."
"Zen you intend to Obliviate moi?" Fear painted itself beneath her stubborn demeanour.
He laughed. It was cold and without humour.
"No, nothing so barbaric," he whispered as he pulled the Elder Wand. "Legilimens."
*****(BREAK)*****
Streams of light filtered through the windows of the Entrance Hall. A rare sunny day in the autumn of the Scottish Highlands. It battered her eyes. The chattering of students drummed against her ears.
Pain, as sharp as a knife, lanced through her head.
Fury wormed through her veins at the sight of them. Dolores's skin crawled, taking in their happy miens and carefree demeanour. Without fail, they shamed the blood which ran through their veins.
Unworthy.
Her hand twitched toward her wand.
Dolores stopped herself at the last moment. Hatred burned deep in her gut. It'd grown to a raging inferno over the past month.
She'd not been happy with her assignment when the Minister had approached her, but Dolores had managed with her usual aplomb and grace. However, what stood before her was of no small concern.
Dolores twitched and looked up at her Educational Decrees. There were forty-two in all.
She couldn't remember writing half of them.
"Careful what you say." The student's whispers echoed to her. "I've heard Umbridge has been a bit unhinged lately. She'll give you detention if you so much as look at her."
She twitched and scowled at the wall of decrees.
Truth be told, the past two weeks had seemed as if she'd lived in a thick fog. Most of what she remembered was drowned in a sea of endless hatred and fury.
'But why?' she thought. 'When did this start?'
She raised a hand to rub her aching temples. An endless flood of detentions crowded her pained, fogged mind. She recalled agony and anger but little else.
Her eyes narrowed when she heard Lovegood say something about Nargles. Dolores looked at the disappointing pureblood girl and spotted Potter walking with her.
The boy met her gaze and sent her a small smile and wave. His right hand had healed, but it shouldn't have.
"Dumbledore," she growled. "P-Potter."
The boy was far too innocent for her liking. Maddening as it was, he'd shown no inclination of being "Dumbledore's Man" as the Minister had led her to believe.
But Cornelius had been sure. It'd been Dumbledore who'd rescued him from those filthy muggles and brought him to be amongst his peers, after all.
'He's hiding something.' Dolores shot him a glare. 'I'm sure of it. Just a bit more and he'll break.'
Potter sent her a beaming smile as he entered the Great Hall. Her face twitched violently.
Pain drummed in her head and her hatred of the boy and the Headmaster unfurled through her chest. She fought with all her might, but the fog returned.
It shrouded her and painted her vision red.
He'd learn to respect his betters, as would all the miscreants in this wretched school.
*****(BREAK)*****
Fleur stared at the light lunch in front of her. She closed her eyes against the bright, multicoloured light of the Great Hall and covered her ears with her hands.
She swayed in her seat and rubbed at her temples.
'Something is wrong,' she thought. Fleur ground her knuckles into her temple.
The previous night was shrouded in a fine mist. She'd walked around the castle as she'd done on several other nights.
Then there were lights, blinding and plentiful. She heard the shouts in her mind, but it seemed as if they'd been far away. And then she'd woken up in a seldom-used room in the dungeons.
'I'm missing something.' Pain sliced through her temples and she shivered.
Opening her eyes, she took note of Potter conversing with Lovegood and Corner. He seemed as if he were enjoying the conversation, but she could see the tension in the corners of his eyes.
Fleur had expected him to fawn over her just as the majority of wizards did. But he'd hated her from the beginning, and for no discernable reason.
Potter was a conundrum.
Their figures blurred as her head swam. Fleur closed her eyes and slouched, her father's most recent missive heavy in her pocket.
'I will confront him later.'
The hall quieted and Fleur's eyes shot to the back of the room. Dolores Umbridge had just entered, her face twisted with fury and pain.
The woman twitched as she took jerking steps toward the staff table. Umbridge's normally pristine, pink robes were littered with wrinkles and stains. She snarled at a group of Gryffindor first years who had turned their fearful eyes upon her.
Umbridge's blue eyes sought out Potter. Fleur followed her gaze, her eyes narrow.
Potter sat, unconcerned, a small smile on his face. Another snarl erupted from Umbridge before she continued on her way.
"'Oo are you, 'Arry Potter?" Fleur's lunch remained untouched.
*****(BREAK)*****
Glinting ripples of water sloshed against the shore. The Scottish sky unfurled beyond the lake in a mural of pinks, greys, and purples. The last scents of autumn filled his nose as he stared into the distance.
Harry sighed, wisps of vapour curling in on themselves. His eyelids drooped. Harry would not find rest tonight. The night's mission was of the utmost importance.
He welcomed that particular distraction.
The tedium found within Hogwarts had taken its toll. Students sought his attention with growing regularity. His supposed fame had finally outweighed his brusque nature.
Navigating social situations had never been within his norm. Others, weaker wizards, within his previous organization had done so.
And he had been nought but a killer.
It was a learning experience, and not one he relished. Dumbledore had been amused at the attention he now garnered.
Irritation bubbled in his gut. The older wizard wished for Harry to learn some kind of lesson for himself.
'But what?' he thought. 'Am I not doing as he asked? I am making "friends" of a sort. What does he want? For me to allow myself to feel?.'
Harry faltered at the question. He had been feeling emotion as of late, disturbing as it had been. But that should have been beaten out of him long ago. It was weak.
'But what if he is right?' Harry scowled at the rippling water. 'Why am I feeling this way? Why do I care? Should I care? Is it right?'
He scoffed and picked up a rock by his feet before hurling it into the lake.
"Ludicrous," he muttered. His stomach lurched and he sneered. "How could I ever learn to feel, to love?"
Silver hair and blue eyes flashed before his eyes, his primary source of annoyance.
She had taken to watching him and occasionally following him.
Harry threw another rock, angering a mermaid who had been beneath the surface. It shook its fist at him from the rippling surface.
'How can I be rid of her?' The mermaid shrieked at him before diving back into the dark depths.
Harry knew precious little of Veela. His previous organisation had encountered them a scant handful of times. What they had learned of them had been paid in blood.
They were highly magical creatures, extremely sensitive to the magic around them. Veela were strong in groups but rarely ventured beyond their covens. They were also stubborn and could hold a grudge for centuries.
Many men who had slighted them had been led to their deaths.
Harry scowled and cursed Fate for tying him to such a person. He would have been better served to remain alone.
"What's with the scary face, Harry?"
He whipped around, wand in hand. Longbottom raised his hands, a smile on his face. Luna stood beside him, whistling a tune while staring at the sinking sun.
Harry stowed his wand and grunted as he turned back to the lake.
"Sorry." The other boy's shoes scuffed the dirt behind him. "Didn't mean to sneak up on you."
"Why are you here, Longbottom?" Harry pulled a clump of grass and released it to flutter in the wind.
The Longbottom heir huffed as he took a seat next to Harry. His hazel eyes stared out over the Black Lake's glistering surface.
"I noticed a large gathering of Wrackspurts here and saw you in the centre of them." Luna's lilting voice sounded from his left.
He watched her sit daintily from the corner of his eye.
"What Luna means is that you looked lonely so we decided to keep you company." Longbottom placed a hand on his shoulder. Harry shrugged it off.
"What gave you the idea I wanted for your company, Longbottom?" Harry watched the squid swim in lazy patterns across the lake's surface.
A deep laugh rang out over the lake and Harry turned, catching mirthful tears in Longbottom's eyes. Harry raised a brow and the blond boy looked back at the lake with a stony mien.
"Still so formal, Harry?" Longbottom shrugged and blew a stream of air between his lips. "I don't know. We haven't really talked since the train, but I've been watching you."
Harry scoffed. "You and the rest of the student body."
Luna hummed beside him. The willowy girl pulled her wand and muttered under her breath. Her silver eyes widened as coloured wisps took form in the air.
The magic was breathtaking in its simplicity.
"I can tell you've been alone for a long time." Longbottom took a handful of water with a shiver. Sparkling rivulets dripped to the ground. "Like attracts like. I just thought you could use a friend."
Luna cancelled her spell and looked at him, her head cocked.
"I do not need friends," he replied.
"Everyone needs friends, Harry Potter." Her face was inches from his own, her eyes wide. "Especially you. I can feel... It's cold...dark… It fills the air around you."
His eyes narrowed and she sat back on her legs. Luna's bare toes wriggled in the cold grass.
"Tell me, Harry." The blonde wizard laid back, his serious eyes scanning the clouds above. "What do you want to do in life? After Hogwarts?"
"I…" He trailed off, his mouth still open.
'Such a simple question.' A pit opened in his stomach. 'So why can I not answer? I have never even thought…'
He tossed another rock in the lake. His eyes traced the ripples. They spoke to him, though their words were indistinct.
"I want to be a magizoologist!" Luna sighed and laid back against the ground. "It's been my dream since I was a girl. I'll travel the world with Daddy."
Brow scrunched, Harry took in the serenity on the girl's face. It was an expression he had seldom seen in his former line of work. It would have been out of place on him.
'Dumbledore will not use me past the war.' Harry looked up. Stars had appeared in the heavens as the sun sank behind a distant mountain. 'What can I do? What do I want to do?"
The answer was akin to water trickling out from between his fingers. Harry stared at the stars as if convinced they held an answer to the simple question.
Faces took the place of the stars in the sky, their expressions twisted. Their blank, milky eyes held only accusation and he knew his course. Harry pushed down on the thoughts and looked at Longbottom.
"Why do you care?" The words rasped from his dry throat.
"It's what friends do." Longbottom stared at the stars, tracing them with a finger. "You don't know what you want from life. But that's okay."
"That does not answer my question." Harry flinched when a small hand covered his own.
His first instinct was to pull away, but he did not. 'Why? What is…this?'
"Neville and I have been alone most of our lives." Luna's words were sombre, her voice thick. "We know better than most what to look for. You can be a good person and we can help you, Harry Potter."
"We care because it's the right thing to do," Longbottom added. His hazel eyes turned to Harry. "You don't have to be alone anymore, Harry. Let us help you. We've nothing to gain and you only benefit."
Harry sat up, his hand coming loose from Luna's. His heart pounded against his ribs and his mind was muddled in mire.
The moon peeked out over the mountains in the distance.
Its existence was so similar to his own.
"Why?" Harry cleared his throat. "What makes me so special?"
"The Potters and Longbottoms have always helped each other." Longbottom shrugged, a small smile on his face. "I'd like to continue that tradition."
Harry turned to Luna. She was staring at something in the distance he could not identify.
"Nobody should ever be alone." Her words were as distant as her eyes.
"I…" Harry scowled, his mind adrift. He struggled for purchase. "I do not know if I can accept. I… it is complicated."
Neville looked over his shoulder, his smile widening. "Take your time; we'll be here. But I think you could start by helping her. You can't avoid her forever, Harry."
Harry nodded and the two stood to their feet. He watched them leave and saw Delacour approaching. His eyes narrowed, his fingernails straining against his palms.
'Are they right?' Harry relaxed his hands. 'Do I need friends? But what about her?'
He shook his head.
"I didn't mean to interrupt your time wiz your...friends." Fleur's eyes were downcast.
Standing, Harry huffed and made to leave. Her hand grasped his elbow as he walked by her.
"Please. Stay." She looked up at him. Her eyes shimmered in the twilight. "I don't want to argue, only talk for a moment."
Harry pulled his arm from her grasp and stepped back. Delacour shivered and wrapped her arms around her stomach. Blue eyes shifted to trace the lake.
"You can be a good person… You can't avoid her forever." Harry's lips thinned. They were wrong, all of them.
"What do you want, Delacour?"
"A truce of sorts, I suppose." Her eyes hardened and shifted to him. "Others know of our betrothal and are talking."
"And why should I care what they say about us?"
Delacour stamped her foot.
"Because your actions reflect poorly on my family." Her lips whitened as she pressed them together. "Your inaction regarding our betrothal reflects poorly on you and your magical guardian."
Harry raised a brow. Dumbledore had not informed him of any such customs.
"Dumbledore does not seem to care," he responded. "I still fail to see why I should."
"Zhe political ramifications-"
"Are something I do not care about." He stepped away from her, intent on returning to the castle. "Have a pleasant evening, Delacour."
Her growl reached his ears and he smirked.
"British relations wiz France will be 'indered and you do not care?!"
He stopped, his smirk faltering. "Explain."
"You and I are both from prominent families." Delacour walked up to him and poked him in the chest. "Ma Papa is the French representative in Britain. If you reject me wizout reason my country will see it as an insult."
'And I may yet have need of them.' Harry bristled. 'But…'
"That is not my problem." He walked away, dirt and grass crunching beneath his feet. "Let the politicians figure it out."
"I will never stop 'ounding you." He stopped and looked over his shoulder at her words. "I 'ave too much… Zhere is too much… I cannot allow it."
Harry turned and marched toward her. Annoyance at her, at Longbottom, at Luna, at the world rattled his mind. They asked for much and offered little in return.
"Then tell me what you want," he hissed. Her smirk made his stomach twist unpleasantly. "If only so I can be done with this game. I grow weary of it."
"We must be seen together-" Fleur crossed her arms and tapped her foot against the ground.
"Fine," he spat. "You will sit with me at meals. There is no need for us to be more involved than that, surely?"
"Getting along," she finished. He scowled and her smirk widened. "We are to be wed so we must get to know one another at zhe least."
Harry growled. "What do you propose?"
"We will take meals together in zhe Great 'All." Delacour tapped her chin with a finger. "And we will spend an evening each Saturday getting to know each other."
"That is pointless," he riposted. "We will not be seen together."
Delacour tossed a strand of platinum hair over her shoulder. "But zhey will ask about us. If you wish for me to go wiz your plan, we must each play our part."
'Fuck.'
Harry looked down at his watch. He needed to be rid of her.
"Fine," Harry spat. "Now please leave me alone. I have things I must attend to."
She nodded, her smile wide. He walked toward the castle.
Delacour had trapped him. She had something planned. His gut quivered and ice settled in his veins.
'I will find a way out of this. I just need time.'