Two hours later found Heolstor descending into the dungeons, fury warring with black humour. 'I guess it didn't take as much painful rationalising as I thought' he thought to himself wryly. As he fingered the objects in his pocket, he thought that he had a good chance of surviving his new plan, and perhaps he would even gain a family out of it. Coming upon Snape's door, the handle recognized him and silently turned, allowing him to slip in. Snape was still at his desk, grading a pile of parchments.
"I see that you are still allowing your sadistic side free reign.", Heolstor said with amusement, letting his worries drop.
His head jerking up, Snape looked at Heolstor darkly before growling, "So it seems that you have grown even more like the Headmaster in your time away, adding entering without an invitation to your list of annoying traits."
Gracefully flopping down onto a conjured armchair and swinging his hair out of the way, he replied, "Well, as I haven't begun to offer muggle sweets to anyone who comes my way, and haven't lost all sense of sartorial taste, I think that we are all still safe."
Snape smirked. "I suppose then that you are tolerable in comparison. Why is it that you have seen fit to grace me with your presence again? I would think that you would have preferred to return to your tower to reassure the other lion cubs of your good health."
Heolstor abruptly sobered. "I have been given this evening to recover my equilibrium, before returning to my former place."
Snape opened his mouth, but before he could say anything he flinched, and pressed his hand to his left forearm. Getting up, he said, "I am sorry," with all apparent sincerity, "that I must leave so abruptly, but I am called."
As he moved to leave the room, Heolstor got up quickly and placing his hand against the mark to calm the burn, said plainly, "Take me with you."
At Snape's incredulous look, he added, "I have a few things to discuss with the Dark Lord, ad this is the easiest way to do so. I could go hunting through our connection, but I am running out of time, as are you. Let us go, before he considers you too late to be forgiven."
Snape reluctantly allowed Heolstor along as he walked swiftly from the dungeons, through the castle and past the wards. Grabbing him by the arm, he said tersely, "I expect that you can handle side-along?" before disapparating.
They landed outside of what Heolstor recognized as Malfoy Manor. As they walked quickly towards the front gates, their robes transfigured, Snape's into the traditional Death Eater garb and Heolstor's into the formal Slytherin robes of green-shot black silk. Snape hastily transfigured a white mask while Heolstor pulled out two signet rings and placed them on his right hand. The front doors opened silently as Snape placed the mask on his face, and then turned to look at his companion, who replied to the unspoken question, "Always start as you mean to go on."
They traversed the manor quickly, surprisingly not being joined by others, until they finally came to one of the smaller formal rooms. Snape entered first, swiftly going over to Voldemort and kneeling to kiss his robes, apologising for his lateness. Feeling Voldemort's anger, Heolstor silently placed a shield around Snape before swiftly entering the room. He walked towards the frozen tableau, saying, "Please do not blame him, for I was the reason for his delay." Privately he almost cackled in glee, his appreciation for the overly dramatic moment, something to be blamed solely on Salazar, unrivaled. Snape remained utterly still in front of the Dark Lord, who sat in a throne-like armchair with only Malfoy in attendance. As Heolstor neared them, Voldemort finally stirred and demanded, "Who are you, and", he turned to Snape, "why Severuss, did you bring him?"
"I did not give him much choice in the matter, and I suppose you could call me…..family." Heolstor said, coming to a stop behind Snape and placing his right hand on his shoulder.
Snape quailed a bit beneath Voldemort's glare, and Malfoy seemed to have frozen completely, which didn't, Heolstor thought amusedly, detract from his looks in the slightest. 'At least I will have ready amusement.'
/I have come to perhaps return what belongs to you, and to discuss the future./ Heolstor hissed.
Voldemort's eyes widened. /You! I felt you two nights before. Do you not think it is criminally stupid of you to come to me when I know the prophecy in its entirety?/
/How do you think one of us would be defeated, Dark Lord? 'Neither shall live while the other survives.' I have thought on that for more than ten years, and I do not believe that either of us must go down in a blaze of glory./ Heolstor replied.
/Ten years? What sort of trouble did you fall into this time, little lion?/
"I have not been a lion in many years, Dark Lord.", Heolstor replied, startling the other two in the room. "But enough of that, I think that your other associate here has an inkling of who I was, and even if he hasn't, I am tired of Snape kneeling here. My knees ache in sympathy."
Heolstor stepped away from Voldemort a bit before conjuring a chair and making himself comfortable. As Snape stood and moved to stand on Voldemort's other side, Heolstor reached into his pocket and removed two objects. He held them carefully and said, "You may not appreciate the gifts that I bring, but I thought them safer with you than where I found them." He focused a bit, smoothing his hand over each object, releasing what they contained, before offering up a ring and cup to Voldemort. He saw a deep golden glow as Voldemort's soul reunited, and reaching out along their connection, he was able to feel the return of some semblance of sanity.
Looking into Voldemort's eyes, Heolstor said simply, "He has started hunting. One is already lost beyond recovery, but I think it would be best to gather the others closer to you."
After a moment, Voldemort replied. "How is it that you come as you are giving such a warning?" True curiosity coloured his voice.
Heolstor glanced at Malfoy, who was only just recovering his aplomb. Malfoy noticed his regard, and when he replied his amusement was obvious. "You know the beginning, with our uneven exchange. What came next I only know the result of, and not the process. I woke up to find myself in the infirmary being cared for by the owner of that cup." Harry inclined his head towards the object in Voldemort's hand, before tucking his hair behind an ear and continuing. "I spent a little over eleven years there, residing with Slytherin."
At this, interest, and a disguised longing, flared in Voldemort's eyes, though his face remained impassive.
"I earned my Masteries, though you own the only documentation, as well as studying that which even then was viewed with some……wariness."
As he leaned back into the embrace of his chair, Heolstor added, "I believe that will prove to be some use to you, and perhaps pay my inadvertent debt."
"I cannot think that He would have taught you such weakness." Voldemort said, emphasis obvious.
"The duty one has towards family and vassal cannot be a weakness, Dark Lord." Harry replied simply.
Voldemort's visage darkened, before he said stiffly, "And I somehow fall under that duty?"
"Have you ever wondered how your family came to be named Gaunt?" Harry asked obliquely.
Voldemort, his anger derailed, looked at Heolstor strangely, who continued. "What is necessary to successfully perform Blood Magic?"
"Heolstor." Voldemort said dumbly, comprehension dawning. "That is what you meant. A very tenuous connection indeed." Then, more sharply, he added, "And this you will use to complete the ritual? That could be repayment in full."
"You have read well, Dark Lord." Heolstor said, impressed. To have remembered the name of one of his ancestor's apprentices, from the one journal that Voldemort had possession of, was quite a feat.
"My lord," Malfoy's voice was hesitant, "might we know…."
Heolstor glanced at Voldemort with wicked amusement before answering smoothly. "Rights of succession, Lord Malfoy. Salazar created a pretty problem for his descendents with Blood Magic. The name Slytherin lay fallow for too long before time righted itself. By blood, I am, what?"
He looked to Voldemort, who was obviously now seeing the humour of the situation, "Your fifteen times great uncle?"
Voldemort added, "And looking rather good for all that, too.", before laughing.
Heolstor smirked, and into the shocked silence asked, "I assume that there is a potions lab that I could make use of here? Phoenix tears would also be useful."
"Certainly." Malfoy said smoothly, recovering.
"I should return shortly, and then I will answer as to why I came here." Heolstor said, standing fluidly. Pondering which potion to use, he continued pensively. "It might be easiest if you were to accompany me, so that we may spill blood in private."
Malfoy escorted them to a lab and bowed them through the door before returning. As he left, Heolstor succumbed to temptation and watched him until he turned a corner. Walking fully into the lab, he noticed Voldemort's regard, and raising a brow, admitted, "He is beautiful.", before getting a small silver cauldron out. He added a small measure of spring water before placing it over a very low flame. While waiting for it to boil, he went to the storage cupboard and returned with a handful of small glass jars. He checked the water, then added a pinch of hellebore, stirred three times widdershins, then added two whole cloves, five seconds apart. Then, stirring in figure eights, he added seven drops of phoenix tears, removed the stirring rod, and doused the flame.
He could feel Voldemort's repressed curiosity, and said, while finding a silver athame, "All Blood Magic, whether ritual or potion, is inherently simplistic. The Blood is the binding agent, the catalyst, and the heart of the magic." He pressed the blade to his finger, slicing the flesh easily, and added fifteen drops of blood before healing the cut, and licking off the remaining blood. "In one minute, please ad five drops of your own blood, and the drink."
Almost an hour after they had left, Heolstor and Voldemort returned to the sitting room where Snape and Malfoy waited. He had been a bit surprised at how closely they resembled each other, and the shocked silence that greeted their entrance was gratifying. Smirking a bit, Heolstor sat, well pleased with his efforts.
After a minute, Heolstor looked at Voldemort and said, "To answer your earlier question, he wants me to fully return to my former place, under glamours, at least until you have been defeated. To return for my sixth year after the usual stay at my family's" and here his tone named them anything but, "and then he has plans for me to put my admittedly appalling skills with a sword to work by slaying you with Godric's. He was as manipulative as ever, though I could hardly have expected less, and made no mention of your….resistance to death. I attempted to find out whether any other option than that of a duel to the death would be acceptable, but he was quite adamant. I decided that I had a greater chance of surviving the prophecy with you. I admit to not having much of a plan for surviving him." Harry admitted frankly.
"I think that at this point, it can be said that you can pull out of the war with impunity, at least from my side, Heolstor. The prophecy, after all, is fulfilled. Harry Potter is dead." Voldemort said, his now-green eyes thoughtful. "I think that you are changed enough physically to hide in plain sight, if you didn't make your former identity known beyond this room. You could certainly be passed off as my son, or some such." He paused. "It would probably be best if you were to play the obedient Golden Boy until we can arrange Harry Potter's defeat."
Heolstor grimaced and in response conjured a pair of black-framed glasses, while shifting to a younger version of himself. Placing the glasses on his nose, he said, "I should probably return before my absence is noticed. I will have enough difficulty as it is.", before pulling into the darkness and silently apparating to the school gates. Shrugging his shoulders uncomfortably, he started the walk up to the castle.