Thank you to those few who reviewed and let me know what you think. I really appreciate that.
To guest : Elder Wand in Harrison's hands? That would definitely be fun :)
I did some math and the story should reach 200k words if I include all my ideas.
Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling. I get no profit from the story.
Beta: Julie. fjad
Chapter Six
Harrison
"Harrison, get away from there!" He demanded, raising his voice. His son looked at him, green eyes confused, and at the same time he saw Sirius Black materialize behind Harrison.
Voldemort didn't even have a second to react because suddenly Harrison's throat was cut open, and that was all he could see, hardly noticing Bella's cry and Black's laughter. His red eyes were focused on his child, wand in the air, performing all known magic to him, but he could see he was too late.
Harrison was gone.
Gone. The always vibrant Avada-green eyes were now forever dull, and there was no spark in them anymore.
He didn't pay attention to the hysterical in rage Bella who was killing everyone she saw, he didn't listen to her cries of pain- he was holding his son in his hands, his blood running all around them, flowing like a river from his child's throat.
Harrison.
He never knew pain like that, and Voldemort screamed, waking up in his room in Slytherin Manor. His hands were in his dark hair, wet with the sweat, and his breathing was ragged.
His red eyes frantically looked around the room, noticing the familiar dark furniture of his bedroom.
He had never had a nightmare before.
Grabbing his robe, he Apparated to Harrison's room. His heart was hammering in his chest, afraid the nightmare had been real. Voldemort finally swallowed the knot in his throat when he saw his boy sleeping peacefully in his bed.
A nightmare. It was all a nightmare. But the feelings from the nightmare didn't leave him for the whole night as he watched his child sleep.
He had never thought he'd find himself in the situation where the death of someone else horrified him more than his own. He hated children. All children and most adults. He even killed children.
But he couldn't hate Harrison. His own blood, his magic was packed in a perfect package that was so similar to his own. He had to admit that had Harrison not possesed the magic he had, he wouldn't be giving the boy so much attention. Had the boy turned out stupid, he would have given the boy to Bella to dowith as she pleased.
Harrison was exactly what he wanted for the closest person to him.
He couldn't not care for the child that he himself raised, a boy that was everything he wanted him to be. The perfect heir.
He would never lose Harrison.
Which meant his son needed a Horcrux. It was time for their talk.
Voldemort caressed his child's soft hair. He would not let Harrison return to Durmstrang without a Horcrux.
xxx
Pulling his cloak on, Harrison looked in the mirror. He knew he was handsome, but it wasn't something that mattered to him. It was magic that mattered. And blood.
He was pureblood, because his mother had been a witch—Mudblood or not—who had attended Hogwarts, and was therefore a magical person. And his father was a half-blood, but considering the maternal side of his father, it didn't really matter that the grandfather had been a Muggle. The Slytherin blood was what mattered.
He was the Heir of Slytherin, Harrison mused, looking at his own reflection. He smiled a lazy smile and winked at his reflection, which winked back.
It was good to be him.
Harrison slowly reached towards an innocent-looking folded paper which lay at his bed. Picking it up, green eyes observed the paper.
He had to let his father know. It was almost the end of the holidays, and he didn't want to wait another half a year to tell father what he had found.
Carefully he put the paper into the pocket of his cloak, and opened the door, stepping outside into the dimly lit corridor. The door closed with a click. "Close." Green shimmer appeared around the door that led to his rooms. The best part of being a blood-Slytherin was that the manor listened to him. Furniture, portraits- he had talked to them all, listening to the portraits' stories since he was able to speak. His favourite was the portrait of Salazar Slytherin who for some reason seemed to be fond of him.
Slowly going down the stairs, he greeted a now animated wooden snake on the railing..
"Young master, where to? " A familiar voice reached his ears and Harrison looked down to smile at Nagini. The huge snake raised her head higher, coming face to face with him, and Harrison lightly nudged her nose. "You are way too curious, my Lady." Nagini hissed in pleasure at being addressed like that and her tongue touched Harrison's cheek.
"They're all fools, young prince. All stupid and wailing, nothing interesting lately. I am bored. No more games for Nagini since you left." Split yellow eyes were watching him with an affection he was accustomed to. Now, many would say snakes had no expressions, but that was because they didn't speak to them—because they couldn't, because they weren't special and they weren't Slytherin descendants.
Snakes had so many expressions on their triangle heads, and Harrison was familiar with most of them.
He would never forget how Nagini, when he brought home a snake, went into rage and ate the smaller snake before he or father could do anything. He was then five, and he could remember how he had cried before his father, fat tears rolling down the cheeks. He would never forget how guilty Nagini felt after that and how she looked at him, begging for forgiveness.
But most importantly, he'd never forget his father's voice, calming him down by placing Harrison onto his lap, holding him. "Bad Nagini." Father hissed at the snake then, making Harrison laugh. His father, the Dark Lord, tried to make him feel better.
Nagini was part of the family.
Harrison's good mood became even better, and he smiled at his childhood friend.
"Then come, you'll love what I have to say to father. A very interesting gossip." He didn't even have to pick her up from the floor. Nagini was curled around his shoulders in a second, her triangle head resting on his head. "Don't mess up my hair," he told the snake, while already opening the door to his father's study. He didn't have to knock, his father could feel him coming anyway.
There, sat Lucius Malfoy and the Dark Lord.
"Lucius," Harrison greeted the man politely and warm enough for Lucius Malfoy to smile sincerely back. "Harrison, wonderful to see you."
"Father, sorry to interrupt, but I need to talk to you." He watched his father frown for a second, probably wondering what was bothering his son. Nagini slithered down and was now lying on the Dark Lord's lap.
"Come in and sit down. Lucius will stay as there is lot to be done inside the Ministry." The Dark Lord showed to the chair opposite of him and near Lucius, and Harrison sat down. "Malfoy has papers to read while we talk." The Dark Lord shot the blonde only one look, but it was enough for the proud Malfoy to nod quickly. "Of course, My Lord."
Harrison sat down into the chair, throwing one leg over the other, and put his elbows onto the armrests.
"You will not believe what I have found out." He watched his father lean back in his larger armchair, one hand, clad in black silk, moving to rest on the armrest, and the other going to the cup of tea that floated near him. Harrison knew he resembled his father very much. The Dark Lord aged very slowly—he was just a bit older than he remembered him from when he was a baby. A handsome man with black hair, around forty years old—even if in reality he was around seventy—Harrison could understand why so many witches wanted to be in his company. Now one black brow rose, indicating that father was waiting. The red eyes were watching him closely, as Harrison leaned forward. "Tell me, father, what do you know about Gellert Grindelwald?"
"Grindelwald? Why?" The Dark Lord floated the cup away, giving all his attention to him.
Father was intrigued.
"Because of this," Harrison hissed, reaching into his pocket for the folded paper, giving it over to father's outstretched hand.
His father red eyes quickly scanned the paper and two black eyebrows rose in surprise.
"Lucius, out."
"Yes, my Lord."
As soon as the blonde Death Eater left, the Dark Lord got up from the chair and walked around the room. He was always doing it when thinking hard.
"How did you get it?" Father nodded at the paper lying on his table.
"Well, you see, it seems that several of our ancestors attended Durmstrang, and imbedded little magical snakes around the school. And you know how chatty they can be."
"You chattered to the furniture and found Grindelwald's diary." His father didn't even seem to be surprised. If anyone knew how he ticked, it was papa. "So this is real?" Father asked him in all seriousness now, sitting back into his armchair, moving Nagini's lazy body with one hand.
"Very real, and I think one of them belongs to us." He watched his father smile at him, eyes twinkling. "You are very weird, my son." Father looked at him with piercing eyes. Look who's talking! "But that is a compliment."
Oh.
That felt good. He nodded his thanks for to the compliment as his father stood up and he joined immediately.
"We have the stone, and somewhere are the Elder wand and the invisibility cloak."
Harrison smiled a rare smile when his father hugged him briefly.
"And I have a present for you, my darling child." His father was looking at him with serious red eyes. "What do you know about Horcruxes?"
xxx
He twirled the gold ring with a black stone engraved with what Marvolo Gaunt called the Peverell coat of arms. Or so his father had thought.
"You see, it's not a coat of arms, it's the symbol of the Deathly Hallows," he leaned towards his father, giving the ring to the older man.
"Durmstrang has at least seven of those symbols around the school. Grindelwald was obsessed with them, and left clues behind to those who searched. This is a Hallow, Father. The resurrection stone, to be more precise." He was absolutely sure it was a Hallow, but also, he somehow could feel father's magic when he held the ring.
"You can feel it, can't you?" Father asked him, looking at him with a knowing look on his face.
The ring was back in his hands, and Harrison concentrated on the vibes from it. It felt like father. It was a feeling as if a bit of his father was locked inside the golden ring.
"It's a part of you," Harrison whispered, looking at his father in confusion. "What is this?"
"That my son, is a Horcrux. A part of my soul that could be used should anything happen to this body to bring me back to life. It's an escape from death, Harrison." It should shock him to find out his father cut out a part of himself and trapped inside the ring, but it didn't. He wasn't living in the fantasy life where his father was a fairy. He knew who his father was. The Dark Lord, the most powerful sorcerer of the last century.
But to think he had put a part of himself into a real Hallow was a bit creepy even for him. Yes, father hadn't known that, but still…
"How many do you have?" He asked, looking at the ring in awe. A Deathly Hallow. A Horcrux.
"Three." Oh wow. He wanted to ask what the other two were, but he knew father wouldn't tell.
"I want you to create your own Horcrux before you leave for Durmstrang." Did he just hear what he thought he had? "What?! No way am I tearing my soul apart. I am not ready for such shit."
"Language."
"Language? What the hell does language matter if you want me to tear my soul apart?" He would be screaming by now had they spoken in English, but when he was angry, hissing became harsher and faster but not louder. His father's hypocrisy knew no bounds. It was always like that. Don't smoke, don't drink and no drugs, but here is how to cast a Crucio. The Dark Side wasn't that fun when your dad decided what was good and what was bad.
"You will make a Horcrux, Harrison. It's not negotiable." He stared at his father who stared back. He knew this look—father was serious. "Why? Why would you want me to tear apart my soul when you refuse me some branches of Dark Magic." He laughed at father then. "You refused me Necromancy because I'm too young for this, but it's perfectly fine to tear your fourteen years old soul apart. Don't you think that's a biiiit hypocritical?" Harrison got up from the desk and moved across the room, waiting for his father's answer.
"What would you do if anything happened to me?"
He hadn't expected this question and turned to look at father in confusion.
"What?"
"I beg your pardon, not what, you know better than that, Harrison. I raised you well." The Dark Lord got up from the armchair and stood next to him.
"Imagine I die. What would you do then?" Red eyes were watching his very closely. Not blinking.
"You won't die! You have horcruxes!" He almost screamed, not wanting to even think about it.
It was his Boggart—his dead father.
"Exactly." His father shook him by the shoulders. "And you don't have any. Imagine how I feel."
It was the closest to "I love you" in his whole life. He had never heard his father say those words to him, but actions spoke louder than words when your father was a Dark Lord.
Tears almost left his eyes at the tender look in red eyes, and suddenly he understood how stupid he was being. It was for his own good. He wasn't a fan of the idea to tear his soul apart, but if it meant staying with father forever and ever, it was definitely worth it. "Alright, papa," he nodded, doubts leaving completely when a beautiful, genuine smile graced his father's face. "That's my boy."
Xxx
The Dark Lord had been doing that for years, showing him his greatest possession, and reminding him that he did not have such relationship with his son, and even if he had, his son would be nothing compared to the Dark Lord's. And the most bitter part was that Lucius, somewhere deep in his heart, agreed with him.
The Dark Lord wasn't the only who was proud of his son. Every Death Eater who had known Harrison had a great deal of respect and awe for the boy, and Lucius was no exception. He watched the boy grow up to become a son he would die for to have.
Draco would never be Harrison. Never would his child possess the magic and charisma that were so purely Harrison. He would never respect his son the way he respected the Dark Heir. He would never be in such awe of Draco as he was when he watched Harrison perform magic. Harrison always stood near his father, or sat on the armrest of the Dark Lord's throne, and it pained Lucius that he wasn't as near to his son as the Dark Lord was to his.
Lord Voldemort was a better father than he was.
Or Harrison was a better son.
He really didn't want to think about it.
A gloved hand straightened the long blonde hair, and serpent-head cane in hand, Lucius Malfoy prepared to apparate away from the Slytherin Manor, when he heard someone call his name.
"Lucius!"
He turned around, blond hair twirling together with his head, and then Lucius smiled.
"Barty!" His best friend since school was approaching him quickly, almost running, a mad grin illuminating handsome face.
"Oi, brother, you won't believe what happened at the manor a week ago," Barty was always speaking rather fast, tongue mimicking one of a snake. "It was a blast!"
Lucius didn't notice any difference when he spoke to the Dark Lord and Harrison. "Well, tell me, what are you waiting for? Thunder and lightning?" He nudged Barty Crouch, who leaned closer to him. "Have you seen the Dolton bitch?" There was so much excitement in the other man's voice that Lucius' eyebrows shot up without his consent. He actually hadn't seen Cassiopeia Dolton since their last dinner which went not so well, as the witch had hoped. Where was she?
"Actually, I haven't," he replied and smiled back when a very nasty smirk appeared on Barty's face. "Don't tell me it was Harrison." Lucius' amusement and curiosity were met with rich laughter from his friend.
Nodding his head several times, Barty whispered. "With a Slytherin dagger."
Well, it should shock him that Harrison, who was just fourteen, had killed his father's mistress, but it didn't. It made a lot of sense, and Lucius again found himself wondering if Draco would have ever done such a thing for his attention.
The answer was no, and he knew it. His son would whine and stomp his foot, not butcher a witch with a dagger. Not that he wanted Draco to kill for him—it was the knowledge and sureness that his son would do something like that if necessary that he wished for.
"How do you know?" Lucius looked at his friend, noting the wicked brown eyes shining with adoration for the boy.
"Harrison came to see Bella, and I was there. He told us." He could hear a bit of pride in Barty's voice. Harrison was extremely close to Bella, and very close to Barty Crouch, something that both Death Eaters never failed to mention again and again. He wasn't that close to the boy but he knew Harrison liked him. They have been to several Quidditch Finals, taking Harrison, Barty and Bella to the Malfoy lounge on the balcony, having the best view of the arena. Lucius enjoyed Harrison's company because the boy was witty and interesting to talk to.
"I take it Bella is happy?" He asked with a small, knowing smile.
"Elated, my friend, elated."
"She raised him well," Lucius said out loud, without wanting it.
Barty's brown eyes were now piercing him, and he knew his friend understood what bothered him.
"He's Harrison." Barty shrugged his shoulders, smiling at him. "He's unique."
Lucius smiled a bitter smile. Too true.
Too true.
xxx
He threw his cloak onto the floor and called for the house elf.
"Ditty!"
"Young Master," the ugly creature shivered before him. He never liked house elves.
"Is dinner ready? Is father here?" He asked impatiently, grabbing another cloak from the closet.
"Master is already seated at the table." The house elf shivered at his angry glare. "And why wasn't I called earlier then?" This cloak fit perfectly, its pale blue colour fitting his blonde hair and grey eyes.
He dismissed the stupid creature and quickly moved towards the dining room, down the stairs. Draco walked quickly, only coming to a halt when he heard his father's laughter, which was followed by mother's.
So that was why he was temporarily forgotten. Nothing new, though. The granite steps of the staircase seemed to never end. With each step, when his dragonskin shoes connected with the cold stone, he could hear the conversation better and better.
"Lucius, did you know that Martisha Borgstone was an alcoholic and a shameful woman, who had three lovers at the same time?" His mother's light voice reached him, and Draco smirked at the satisfaction he could hear in her voice. Something had made his mother very happy. He had heard of the Borgstone woman, and vividly remembered how his mother loathed the other witch.
Draco knew that as soon as he stepped into the room, this conversation would end. Mother and father never talked about such things openly with him.
Father's laughter was also happy, and Draco pursed his lips, listening quietly.
"I actually saw Gerard Borgstone today, and he asked me to deliver his gratitude to you. He's getting divorced, and the harlot will fly out with nothing." Father's amusement could easily be heard in his unusually pleasant tone. "Well done!" Father laughed again, and Draco had to admit he had never heard his father laugh so much with genuine laughter. "How did you pull it off, Narcissa?"
Draco stopped near the corner. The large mahogany doors were wide open, but he didn't go in. He stayed where he was, listening to the conversation.
He knew who else was there in the room with his parents.
"It was so wonderful, Lucius! To see her rodent eyes widen with horror, oh, it was simply magical!" His mother's voice was really happy, and Draco smiled. His mom was really smart. His smile disappeared at the next words. "But I am afraid I am not the one Lord Borgstone should truly thank. I wouldn't have known anything, had it not been for Harrison."
There it was again. The feeling of incompetence, uselessness and jealousy, mixed with a heavy portion of envy.
It was always Harrison.
If you listened to his father, it would be something along the lines of "Harrison this, Harrison that. Harrison, Harrison, Harrison."
He wasn't Harrison, and he hated both himself and Harrison.
"You are truly your father's son, Harrison. He has every reason to be proud." Draco felt tears behind his eyelids that were closed tightly.
"Thank you, Lucius." And here was the voice he hated.
Harrison Gaunt.
"I am glad I could help Narcissa with her little feud. Borgstone's daughter is in her seventh year in Durmstrang, that's how I knew. The rest was easy." The slight hissing was traceable in the voice, and Draco shivered uneasily.
Easy.
He had enough.
They had been sort-of friends when they were smaller, but after several incidents, Harrison started to freak him out.
The first time was when Harrison had almost killed Theo. They were five and playing some stupid game, when an argument between Theo and Harrison escalated. Theo pushed Harrison away, making him fall, and stomped on Harrison's just-built magical Lego creation, which was an exact copy of the magnificent Slytherin castle.
Seconds later Theo started screaming, and Draco remembered the faces of father, aunt Bella and Theo's dad. Theo had stopped screaming and was now having problems breathing, face in agony. Nothing the adults had tried to do had helped, and Draco already thought that Theo would now die, when the Dark Lord himself had walked into the room and simply picked up his son.
Hissing was coming from the Dark Lord's lips, and was answered in the same hissing from his son. "Teach your children their places, or I will do so for you." The Dark Lord's voice was cold and commanding, making two adults in the room bow with apologies. Aunt Bella stood smiling, looking proudly at Harrison in the Dark Lord's arms.
And the second time was when he had sneaked into the Death Eater meeting, when he was twelve. It had taken place in the Malfoy Manor and Draco knew ways around his home. He still wished he had never gone to spy. He wished he could unsee what he had witnessed there.
The Dark had tortured twelve people, all dying extremely painful deaths, and Harrison just sat there, on the Dark Lord's chair's armrest, smiling proudly at his father.
The boy was a fucking lunatic, even worse than Aunt Bella.
Harrison was just extremely creepy, no one ever knowing what he could—or would—do.
But most of all, he hated Harrison because his father would swap them in a second if he could. It had always been like this. Even the Dark Lord himself was enamoured by Harrison, not to mention mere Death Eaters.
There was a shining star in the dark night sky and the best Draco could do was to follow the star, but never be the star himself. This was how he grew up, behind a shadow of the mighty Harrison. At least Hogwarts was free from the Slytherin Heir. He could only imagine what Harrison would do in Hogwarts...
Raising his head, Draco entered the room, somehow meeting the eerie green eyes first. Just by looking at them, he knew Harrison had known he was nearby all this time.
"Draco, you're late." His father's voice wasn't as happy anymore, and the laughter stopped.
Yes, that was his life.
xxx
He ducked, and rolled to his right side. He was truly impressed now.
A soundless yellow light flew towards him, and only due to his vast knowledge of the Dark Arts, could he defend himself with the countercurse.
"Aspere!" The yellow light disappeared, and now he shot his own curse, also silently.
Black light flew towards his opponent, and Severus found himself astonished when the boy managed to block it with a counter-curse.
It seemed the Dark Lord really invested his time into Harrison's education, and apart from Durmstrang gave his son lessons on Dark Magic. The curse he had fired at Harrison was very dark magic, and the counter-curse even more so.
Severus had good sight and therefore could see the green eyes of his opponent twinkle with mischief. Not good.
Hissing left Harrison's mouth and seconds later around twenty deadly cobras appeared all around them. The boy smiled before hissing a command at the snakes, as suddenly they all wanted to bite Severus. He drew his wand in a circle, using fire to destroy all snakes when he heard Harrison's voice again.
"Obsecro!"
Severus threw all his power behind the shield to protect himself from an analog of Cruciatus. The boy was fully trained in the Dark Arts, and he was only fourteen. While he held the shield, one of the snakes crept up to him and bit him in the ankle.
Harrison jumped up several time in glee, having won a duel with Severus Snape for the very first time. The win was purely Slytherin-ish. Using snakes had been a brilliant idea, and Severus smiled at the beaming boy. "Congratulation, Harrison."
"Thank you, Severus." The boy smiled his dazzling smile, looking him in the eyes. "It's nice to know that I improve."
He looked the boy over. The dark cloak with high collar reached the boy's knees, silver snakes decorating the hem of the collar and sleeves. Around the boy's neck hung the heavy Slytherin locket, emeralds fitting the green eyes of its owner. Harrison's gaze was relaxed and content.
"Karkaroff thinks you're a demon, did you know that?" He asked the boy who laughed out loud.
"Does he really?" Harrison looked at him with sly, mischievous eyes. "I wonder why," the boy smiled at him innocently.
"It may have something to do with the fact that you took over control of the school, using many students. You and your friends wreaking havoc in Durmstrang," Severus started slowly, in his velvet baritone that so spooked idiots Gryffindors. "Or it could be that you seem to lack the knowledge as to what curfew actually means." He looked at amused green eye. "Or maybe, just perhaps, it has to do with using Dark Magic openly at school." He looked as one black eyebrow rose, green eyes twinkling even more. "Or it could be the three pureblood heiresses, who now cry their broken hearts out? Which one do you think it is, Harrison?"
"Jeeez, no idea." It was all games for the boy.
"In Hogwarts you would be shipped off to Azkaban for the rolliking and revelling you do in Durmstrang." He glared at the Slytherin Heir, who was now smiling.
"Severus, I may have no choice but to listen to father chewing me up every time that idiot Karkaroff runs to him, but I will not be listening to this bullshit from you."
"Language."
"You just have seen me cast some heavy Dark Magic, and you still say language, just like my father does." Harrison sneered then. "As if I am a fucking child."
You are one, he wanted to say, but refrained from that. They had a very good relationship and often Harrison opened up about one thing or another. Necromancy, for example.
The boy was simply fascinated with Necromancy and even managed to read the few books on the Darks Art that could be found in the Durmstrang library. All books on this subject were completely forbidden for Harrison by the Dark Lord, and not one Death Eater was to give him access to their library when it came to Necromancy.
It seemed that Lord Voldemort was afraid for his child's sanity and therefore made this very smart move that Severus agreed with. Necromancy was something no fourteen year old should dabble in. There had never been a sane Necromancer in the history of wizarding world.
The Dark Lord forbade Necromancy and Harrison had started to rebel, but even Severus knew the boy would never go directly against his father. He would obey, even when trying to drive them all insane.
As long as the Dark Lord lived, Harrison would not be allowed to study Necromancy in its earnest. While he knew that the Dark Lord could raise Inferies, a fully trained Necromancer with a talent would be capable of much more.
"Don't forget that all actions have consequences," he said to the boy and bowed his head briefly. "I wish you a good evening at the Quidditch Finale."
"You're not going?" Harrison asked curiously.
"I don't like Quidditch and you know it." The boy smiled sheepishly, nodding his head. "Good evening, Severus. And thank you."
"Until tomorrow, Harrison." Severus smiled at the boy, before turning away and walking towards the apparition point. An uneasy feeling grew in his chest, and Severus turned around, looking at the still standing Harrison, who was waving at him.
Severus pursed his lips and concentrated on the apparition. It was just a feeling, he told himself.
All was good.
Wasn't it?
xxx
"That is the biggest motherfucking rune circle I have ever seen. Never seen such complicated shit." Green eyes were looking pensively at the runes on the floor, taking in the heavy opened books that his father was now concentrated on. Harrison winced as he remembered who he was in the room with.
Now would come the standard blah blah blah.
"From now on, for each time your mouth mutters some profanities, you'll be enjoying a Crucio." Red eyes weren't looking at the books now, instead drilling a hole in Harrison's head. "I've had enough. My son will not be swearing like a drunken muggle sailor."
Well, this was something new. He was sure he'd get a few enjoyable Crucios today, after the Quidditch finale, especially if Krum lost. Harrison couldn't really help himself, the profanities seemed to flow out of his mouth before his brain caught up. He didn't do it on purpose. Sort of.
"Do you plan on Crucio'ing me before or after I tear my soul apart?" His raised eyebrows were answered with the ones of his father. "Cheeky today, aren't we?" The Dark Lord's voice was calm, but Harrison could hear a warning in it.
"Well, it's not every day you give me a chance to do something interesting, like tearing my fully-functional soul apart." His sarcasm was heavy, and a small glare from father let him know it was heard. "Do you want me to lose a limb also?" He just couldn't stop angering his father, even if he kind of agreed on the whole Horcrux thing.
He wasn't joking about the limb though. The Dark Arts training with Lord Voldemort meant that Harrison had experienced almost every Dark Curse before learning to cast it. He'd lost his limbs lots of times during the lessons, only to be reattached later when learning the counter curses or dark healing magic.
His dad had no problems hacking his arms and legs off. And the worst was that it didn't really bother him or father. Insanity was surely their family trait, not that he'd voice his opinion anytime soon.
Even while angering the Dark Lord, Harrison felt calmer now, knowing his father wasn't mortal. It felt like a heavy weight was lifted from his shoulders.
"You will definitely lose a limb if you don't shut up now." Father glared at him before resuming reading the book, the bone-white wand drawing complicated patterns in the air.
"Just try not to maim my treasure, or you'll never babysit your grandchildren." Harrison barely ended the sentence when he fell down under a Crucio. Great. Looked like father didn't want to be a grandpa yet.
"If you're done playing a fool, I'd like to proceed with the ritual. We don't have that much time if you still want to go to the World Championship."
Crucio was something he got used to, and this time it was very short, so Harrison easily rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling. "Let's do it then because I have to see Krum win." He'd have to do the ritual anyway so why wait? And if Victor managed to fuck up, Harrison would lose a lot of money. Victor Krum was a good friend, extremely loyal and brave ever since meeting Harrison in Durmstrang. However, even if Krum was two years older than him, it was Harrison who was the leader in their friendship.
"I will be joining you tonight." His father's voice was quiet as he seemed to be absorbed by whatever he was reading. Harrison quickly got up, glancing at father with curious eyes. "Since when do you go watching Quidditch?" He inquired, looking at his father who was now walking around the rune circle, checking everything.
"Since today."
Duh...If father didn't want to answer, Harrison knew there was nothing that would make his father talk.
"Now, forget about the stupid sport and concentrate on the runes. Look at them closely." His father was now standing behind the rune circle, holding something in his palm.
"What do you have in your palm?" Harrison asked absentmindedly, checking the runes. Well, he knew about seventy percent of those runes and what there were for, but he couldn't really tell what the other thirty percent were, until he saw one very familiar rune. What the…
"Is that a Necromancy rune? And this one, and this one," Harrison quickly located the other Necro-runes, and glanced at father with accusatory glance. "You said no Necromancy, but you yourself dabble in it without any problems!" He was truly pissed. "The topic that interested him the most was not available to him, but father had no problems using it himself.
"Before you burst into flames from your anger, remember that I am a Dark Lord and an adult." His father's mocking tone was not helping. "You are fourteen with unstable magic and flickery control over it, and you want me to allow you the section of Dark Arts that propels even the most sane people into insanity? Think again."
He had good control over his magic! His eyes seemed to speak instead of words as he glared at his father.
"Good is not good enough. You have to have perfect control over your magic." The Dark Lord was now glaring at him. "Constant perfect control, Harrison."
"Fuck control!" He didn't really say it out loud, did he?
"Crucio!"
He did. Oops.
xxx
He wanted to take his wand and hit his stupid child with it on the stupid head.
His boy was brilliant, but a moron at the same time. Maybe it was Barty's influence, maybe it was Bella's, or maybe Harrison had always been this reckless. Voldemort pursed his lips as Harrison rolled on the carpet again, getting up. Three Crucios in twenty minutes.
Green eyes were glaring at him, and Voldemort almost rolled his eyes in annoyance. They were wasting the time they did not have.
"Drill this information into you head," Voldemort started his speech, making Harrison close his mouth, and most likely save a Crucio for a later time. "The Horcrux needs a source, a will and a sacrifice. You have to mean it when you cast the Killing Curse on the victim for it to tear your soul apart and put it in here." His palm opened up and Harrison's green eyes immediately darted to the small round object in his palm. A golden coin with three-headed snake was warm in his hand.
"Is that Salazar Slytherin's coin?" His child was awed, and Voldemort was very pleased. He specifically chose the thousand year old gold coin to be Harrison's Horcrux. Salazar Slytherin had always had this coin on himself when he was alive, and somehow Harrison had found the coin when he was examining the manor as a child. The first coin with the first Slytherin coat of arms, the three-headed snake.
Voldemort concentrated and tried to feel his son's emotions. He winced a second later.
Harrison's emotions were all over the place. No concentration, no control at the moment. He couldn't make his child create a Horcrux if the boy couldn't concentrate.
With a sigh, he finally spoke. "Go get ready for the finale, we'll perform the ritual after the match, when you have calmed yourself. This specific ritual prohibits all strong emotions because you need full control of your mind and magic to correctly tear your soul apart. I don't want you to go insane just because you can't wait for a Quidditch match." Voldemort felt some weird feeling in his chest, not really happy with the delay of the ritual. Then again, that was the reason he'd accompany Harrison today, to make sure his son returned alive.
The nightmare still bothered him, and the fact that Dumbledore was suddenly eerily quiet lately didn't make him feel better. Especially after Severus had shared the thoughts of one Sirius Black about murdering his son.
"Are you sure?" His son stood near him, green eyes confused.
"No, I am not." Voldemort sneered a bit. "But I did promise you the Quidditch finale, so we'll have to postpone our ritual for a few hours." He put the golden coin onto the table. He wasn't the best father, but he always held his word when it concerned his child.
"Thank you, papa." Harrison was smiling now, and Voldemort smiled back a tiny smile. Papa.
Forever his Harrison.
"Give me your word, son."
Harrison stopped at the door and looked at him confused.
"Give me your word you will finish the ritual when we return." Harrison seemed to sense that something was bothering his father, but instead of questions, his son again proved why he was so perfect.
"I give you my word, father. I promise I'll create a Horcrux."
xxx
Slowly pacing the floor of the waiting room, she glanced at Barty, who was dressed in his usual dark leather cloak, sitting on a chair, his left foot tapping the floor with no rhythm.
"Stop it!" She snapped at the annoying Death Eater, who only grinned back.
"Come on, Bella, don't ruin my good mood!" Barty cackled without a reason, and Bella sneered.
Wacko.
The doors to the waiting room opened, making both Death Eaters bow when the Dark Lord entered first. He was so handsome. Bella's eyes were looking at the perfect features before slowly trailing towards the other person behind the Dark Lord.
Harrison had a black-green cloak on with its typical high collar, silver snakes slithering up and down the dark sleeves. While the Dark Lord had, as always, a black, spacey, billowing cloak, Harrison preferred more military style cloaks, shorter and more straight than his father's. Bella smiled at Harrison when he winked at her, pleasure burning in her heart. Harrison was wearing a cloak she had given him earlier, and that was enough to make her soul sing.
"Harrison, use the portkey to the Malfoy Manor. I wish to speak to those two alone." Bella raised her eyebrows, just like Barty did. Harrison nodded simply and portkeyed away.
"Now, you both listen very carefully." The Dark Lord was very serious and both Death Eaters stopped smiling, bowing again.
"You will keep your eyes on the stadium and on Harrison, not the game." Red eyes locked with hers. "Do you understand it?" Bella nodded very quickly, not liking where this was going.
She dared, only because of Harrison. "Is it Dumbledore, my Lord?" She knew she'd get a Crucio now, but instead the Dark Lord nodded slowly. "If you see anything suspicious, get Harrison away immediately. No questions, no idiotic waiting. If you see the Order, your priority is Harrison."
Now she was truly afraid. Bella glanced at Barty who wasn't in a good mood anymore.
"Yes, my Lord," they answered in unison, bowing their heads.
Bella wasn't looking forward to the finale anymore.
"If you fail, you die. I am clear enough?"
They nodded quickly. "Barty, apparate to Harrison."
As soon as Crouch Junior left, the Dark Lord looked at her.
"Your cousin, Sirius Black, wants to kill Harrison. And Dumbledore to abduct him. This is a major risk going to the match, however, a promise is a promise." That fucking mutt! Blasted blood traitor! Damned Dumbledore!
Looking at her Master, she whispered. "Harrison is my life, my Lord. I will die protecting him no matter what. I swear, Master."
She would kill herself otherwise.
Her Master was looking her over, eyes trailing her beautiful grey dress, lingering on her breasts and she could do nothing but feel a rush of such lust that she almost fainted from the intensity of it.
Red eyes locked with her brown ones, and Bella thought she would definitely faint when the Dark Lord raised his hand, motioning for her to stand up, and then he stepped so close she forgot how to breathe. The Dark Lord lowered his head and she felt his lips on hers.
The kiss was short, but she still couldn't stop the moan that escaped her lips.
"Protect our child, Bella."
She thought she would die from the happiness that overwhelmed her. Our child. Our.
She was Harrison's mother in the Dark Lord's eyes.
The Dark Lord stepped away and quietly apparated to the Malfoy Manor. Bella took a couple of breaths to steady herself and focus.
When she apparated away, there was only one thought in her mind.
Their son.
xxx