A/N: Well, Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, Happy Hanukkah, or whatever is appropriate for you this season. My present to you, dear readers, is this chapter. Not only is it one of the most involved, longest, and most fun to write, it is also packed full of little bits of information.

Before we get started on this chapter though, allow me to answer a question straight off that I am sure to get ask regarding what takes place below.

The question is "Is Voldemort lying?"

My answer is, "I'm not going to tell you." Why? Because what goes on here is a large part of the story, folks. Telling you if he is lying or not would pretty much be telling you the whole story in one answer. And it's not the first time in this story you're going to run into something like this. So I'm afraid you'll have to figure that answer out for yourself.

And as always,

Enjoy.

Disclaimer: All characters of the Harry Potter series (hereafter known as 'legal property') are the sole ownership of J.K. Rowling (hereafter known as 'owner of said legal property'). No infringement on any copyright of owner of said legal property of the legal property is knowing intended. Published by author (hereafter known as 'other') for entertainment purposes only. No monetary or personal gain was knowingly made by other with the publication of this story, which was based on ideas and characters created by owner of said legal property as they pertain to legal property. No plagiarism of legal property or of any ideas of the owner of said legal property was knowingly intended by other. This statement is fully transferable and is legally held binding for all chapters of the story Family Relations as they are presented under different chapter headings and titles for individual chapters.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: DIAGON ALLEY

"Where are you headed off to?"

Arabella turned to the man just entering the castle foyer as she picked her carrying bag off a nearby table after fastening her cloak, ushering her godson in front of her. The day had already not been going well with little annoyances that seemed to her to crop up at every turn. It had started with their running late, then not being able to find her purse, and now running into Voldemort just as they were about to make a clean get away without any further interruptions. Regardless of Orion's suggestion of how to deal with the man, Arabella doubted that Sirius himself would have gotten a cordial greeting out of her at this point. All she wanted was to get on with their shopping trip.

"I wasn't aware I had to account for my movements to you." She replied in a cool voice.

"You don't." Voldemort replied. "The question was out of concern, not simply 'my being nosey', as you would likely put it."

Arabella gave a small huff under her breath. "Concern of what?"

Voldemort walked up to her. "There have been reports of the Deatheaters being a bit more active than is normal for them."

"And how would you know that? They don't seem to feel the need to keep you appraised of their activities anymore."

Orion had indeed confirmed for Dumbledore the other day that to his department's knowledge, for whatever reasons, Voldemort had no contact with his Deatheaters, or they with him. And neither seemed particularly eager at the moment to renew the acquaintance.

Voldemort gave something of a condescending smile. "No. But Dumbledore sees the benefit in keeping me appraised of what he hears since I can interpret what the Deatheaters do likely better than even he can."

Arabella faced him with her arms crossed over her chest. "And what great wisdom do you discern out of a few Deatheaters roaming the streets? They have nothing better to do?"

"Deatheaters don't 'roam the streets'. If they're out, they're out with a purpose. That is what concerns me."

"Why?"

"They currently have no leader. Therefore they should have no 'purpose'. If they are functioning as a group again, then they might have appointed a new leader."

Arabella gave him a patronizing smile. "My, how soon they forget."

Voldemort sighed quietly. "If you're going out, you're not going alone."

"I'm not going alone." Arabella countered, nodding to where her godson stood waiting for her. "Harry is going with me."

"The boy is hardly adequate protection against the Deatheaters. You need someone more experienced."

"Well, there is no one else." Arabella stated in exasperation. "Orion is off with Dumbledore at the Ministry. Lupin left early this morning to attend to some business in London. That leaves Harry and me."

"And me." Voldemort pointed out. "If you're determined to go on this excursion, I'll go with you."

Arabella's lack of enthusiasm showed clearly in her expression. Orion said they were to be nice to him. He'd said nothing about having to allow him to share every minute of their day. "I'd sooner shop Nocturn Alley with a vampire."

"Fine. If we find one there he can keep you company while I pick up a few things."

Arabella sighed to herself. He had managed to back her into a corner with no way out. If she pressed the issue, she risk alienating him. But his insistence at going with them she felt was a bit much to ask.

Arabella stared back at him, resigning herself to her fate. "Fine." she stated. "Just...behave yourself."

"Behave myself?" Voldemort asked in indignation. "I'm not a six year old on a school outing."

But Arabella ignored him as she headed out the door with Harry in front of her, quickly explaining to him that they were going to have company on their trip and they would do well just to make the best of it.

A large part of the trip was spent in silence as the trio walked along the road headed for Hogsmeade. Arabella had wanted to start there, and then move on by Floo Network to Diagon Alley. For the most part Voldemort seemed to be determined to give a whole new meaning to the word 'vigilance' as hardly a tree they walked past he didn't give a serious scrutiny to.

As the journey progressed, Harry managed to get several yards ahead of the two adults. But as that he was always in sight, Arabella let the matter go. She understood he was uncomfortable around Voldemort, and putting a little space between them seemed to help.

"Shouldn't you be reigning that boy in a little?" Voldemort observed after a short while.

"Shouldn't you be nosing in the bushes?" Arabella replied.

"Meaning?"

"Meaning we haven't past so much as a bush or a rock you didn't look over like you expected a pack of...something to jump out from behind and attack us all."

"If you recall," Voldemort reminded her, "that is what I am here for. To make sure you and the boy are kept safe while you...shop."

A small smile crept across Arabella's face, which Voldemort just caught before she covered it with her usual composed expression.

"Something amusing?" He asked.

Arabella shifted her gaze over to him for a moment, then back to where her godson was just ahead of them. "You, if you must know." She replied.

"Me?"

"Yes." she replied, a smile creeping back over her lips as the thought came back to mind. "This must be quite an adjustment for you. Going from doing everything in your power to kill my godson, to having to act as his protector if, in the end, you're going to get what you want.."

"I take objection to that statement." Voldemort replied as he kept his gaze fixed on the road ahead of them, scanning it for anything unusual.

"All right." She amended. "Almost everything in your power."

"I was referring to the 'kill' part of that statement."

Arabella nearly staggered in her steps at the comment. "Surely you're not going to try and deny you've tried to kill him?"

"Not against that attitude I'm not. Hardly any point, is there?"

"You attacked him in his first year!" Arabella protested.

"I was trying to reason with him."

"And in his second year you tried again, as well as nearly killing a harmless, young girl. Try denying that."

Voldemort huffed at the accusation. "You see." He stated sharply. "That is a perfect example of what happens when the Deatheaters do something of their own accord. I get blamed for it."

"It was your diary." Arabella stated firmly.

"That diary was a trap I set." Voldemort agreed. "I don't deny that. But I did that ages ago. How could I have known, or planned, whose hands that abysmal little book would fall into? But someone in the present could do so very easily. Such as Lucius Malfoy did. He makes some idiot move on his own, and I get blamed for it."

"So you have, in fact, not been systematically attacking my godson?" Arabella ask skeptically.

"Did I attack the boy in his third year?" Voldemort snapped back.

"You made up for it in his forth."

Voldemort turned his attention back to the road ahead of them as he sighed quietly. "Could you at least try, for just one moment, to see this from my point of view?"

Arabella raised an eyebrow at him. "Oh, this should be interesting." She commented.

Voldemort sighed again as he tried to keep the irritation out of his voice. "The Deatheaters, as I just pointed out, were getting more aggressive on their own. They were forming groups and carrying out attacks on their own. And they didn't have much to worry about, because every time they did something, I took the blame for it. 'The Deatheaters are out terrorizing the muggles? Let's blame Voldemort. It's likely him anyway'."

"So now you're whining because you're convenient?"

"I'm not whining! Just look at the incident at the World Cup. Why would I have sanctioned that idiocy? It served no purpose at all. At the very least, those responsible would have been severely punished."

Arabella gave him another skeptical look. "Then why didn't you?"

"I couldn't. And so do we come now to the events of Potter's fourth year. The Deatheaters were getting out of hand. Even I saw that. The ministry couldn't contain or control them. Only one person could. But how was I supposedly going to control them, reign them back in, when I didn't even have a body?"

"So you're explanation for what happened in the graveyard..." Arabella started.

"I needed a body." Voldemort finished for her. "A physical body of my own to show the Deatheaters I was back, and to impress on them I was still their leader and could still deal with those who challenged my leadership. For that, unfortunately, I needed Potter. He was the only one by the parameters of the spell I could use to give myself a new body. And I knew this wouldn't exactly strengthen any grounds for my case with the boy, but I decided to deal with that later. My current problem was getting the Deatheaters back under some sort of control."

"And killing Cedric Diggory was just what? Something to do?"

"Pettigrew killed the boy, not me."

"You ordered it."

"As told by who?"

Arabella remained silent, not sure if Voldemort knew or not and not wanting to incriminate her godson if he didn't.

"Potter then." Voldemort reasoned. "Interesting, that in everything that was going on at the moment, having just been through a very difficult, demanding tournament, a port key transport, and trying to sort out all those events in the matter of a few minutes, the one thing the boy can pull out of his memory is that out of two people standing before him, I was the one who ordered the Diggory boy killed."

Arabella again remained silent. But this time not only not wanting to point Voldemort to her godson, but due to amazement of the fact that the man could make things sound so logical.

It had to be a gift.

"All right," she said finally, "then explain all this." she added, waving her hand in the air around him. "You think this is impressing Harry with any of your sincere good wishes to just 'talk' to him? You've kidnapped Sirius' body and you're holding him ransom. Those are hardly the acts of an innocent man, Voldemort."

Voldemort turned back to watching the road ahead of them, occasionally looking around the area around them as well. "What would you have me do, Arabella?" He ask finally. "The body I created for myself was failing. I needed a new one. Something more stable. And I needed it fast. Black fit all the criteria of the spell. And it isn't as though I can solve everyone's problems by going to another body. Believe me, I'm as much a prisoner right now as he is."

"What about your 'oh-so-loyal' Deatheaters? Surely one of them would consider it an honor to give up their body to you."

"They wouldn't even know me!" Voldemort quickly protested. "I would likely be killed on sight. Is that what you want to have happen to your loving fiancee?"

"They don't know you now." Arabella replied. "What about before, when you were still in your body? Why didn't you go to one of them then and allow them this wonderful honor?"

"I told you. I needed a body and I needed one fast. But there were...parameters that needed to be met. I didn't have unlimited time. I needed to act quickly. And the only person I could find that fit the criteria I needed was Black."

Arabella sighed quietly to herself instead of answering him, continuing on down the road.

"You don't believe me." Voldemort stated, following behind her.

"What I do or don't believe is irrelevant, Voldemort." she replied.

"Not to me."

Arabella stopped and turned to him, trying to hide the annoyance in her stare. "Why?"

"Because I could use someone on my side, Arabella. Someone in my corner for a change. It would help a great deal to know that someone was there to back me up even just every so often."

"Why me?"

"Well, for one, people around here seem to listen to you, whether you know it or not. And aside from that, I think it would help keep your loving fiancee a bit more in line."

Arabella's eyes widened. "Sirius?"

"He seems to fight me a good deal less every step of the way if your around."

"Then why not just let him go free? Then he wouldn't be fighting you at all." Arabella replied with a small, smug smile.

"I told you, I can't do that."

"Can't..." she challenged, "...or won't?"

"Can't." He replied flatly. "The spell doesn't allow it."

Arabella went back to walking, saying nothing more.

"Even if you refuse to back me up," Voldemort continued as he hurried to catch up to her, "it would help if I knew at least what you were thinking."

"You don't want to know." Arabella replied.

"Try me."

Arabella stopped again, turning to the man with a snap. "All right," she stated, "you want to know what I think? I think you've had this planned from the start. I think every single thing that has happened, you've orchestrated. Carefully, methodically orchestrated to meet your own ends."

"Really?" Voldemort smiled back at her. "Then let me ask you something. If I was planning all along to take over Black's body, why would I have allowed the traitor Snape to kill him?"

"But you didn't."

"I didn't know. Black was a reward to Snape for his loyalty. Before I didn't know he had none. Snape was given the right to kill him, something I knew he would have relished...or should have. But Snape managed to fool everyone present into thinking he had killed Black. Even me. I didn't find out until days later that Black was still alive. So how could I have been planning this 'from the start', as you say, if I thought my ultimate target was dead?"

Arabella stood silently before him without answering.

"Well?"

Arabella turned sharply on her heel and walked on.

Voldemort again hurried after her. "Ah! I see. I have to answer your questions, but you don't have to answer mine, is that it?"

"That's it." Arabella replied shortly.

"Hardly fair."

"Life isn't, I'm told." came the equally short answer. But abruptly Arabella stopped again, turning to him. "But I will tell you one thing I don't believe, Voldemort."

"And that is?"

"I don't believe that finding this other wizard is your ultimate goal. I know you. That's all just too simple for you. You have something grander in mind here."

"For instance?"

Arabella studied the man for a moment. "I don't know yet." she finally replied softly.

Voldemort stared back at her for a moment. But suddenly a small smile crept across his face. "You have quite an imagination, Ms. Figg." he replied.

Arabella held his gaze with her own. "Prove me wrong."

Voldemort met her stare for a few moments, then slowly shook his head as he continued on past her. "Truly a vivid imagination." he commented.

Arabella mimicked his actions as she shook her own head and followed after him.

Once they reached Diagon Alley later in the day, Arabella found herself far more self-conscious about her situation than she expected to be. Hogsmeade was a small, friendly town where she knew many of the vendors she visited. But Diagon Alley was packed with people running here and there and darting into and out of shops. The overall pace was more hectic and set her nerves a bit more on edge. She couldn't help but keep looking over her shoulder every few minutes to see if anyone was looking at them as she equally kept a watchful eye on Harry. She half expected at any moment someone to scream Voldemort's name and the street erupt into chaos.

"What is it you keep looking for?" An irritated voice came from her right side.

Arabella jumped slightly at the sound. "Nothing." She lied as she checked a side alley as they walked past.

"Then stop acting like you expect someone to leap out of every corner and try to grab you."

"Well, what if someone recognizes you?" Arabella stated abruptly, giving voice to her thoughts. "What exactly are you intending to do?"

Voldemort turned a questioning stare to her as he raised one eyebrow at the statement, then quickly furrowed them in irritation. "Who in Magic's name would recognize me? I'm in Black's body, and he has an unrecognizable charm on him. So kindly turn your mind to your shopping and leave the vigilance to me. It is what I came for after all."

Arabella sighed to herself and directed Harry off to a shop on their right. Voldemort followed closely behind them, but stayed outside at the door while Arabella and Harry went inside.

While he waited, the dark wizard carefully observed people passing him on the street. He couldn't help but feel a bit put off that witches and wizards walked past him like he wasn't even there. He couldn't remember the last time he was so utterly invisible in a crowd of people. But the situation had it's positive side as well. Again, because he was so utterly invisible in the crowds, it allowed him for the first time in a long time to remember what it felt like to simply be around people. Others of his own kind, without having them run in fear and panic. Several people actually nodded to him as they pasted and bid him a friendly 'hello' while two attractive young witches cast him appraising looks, both smiling back at him over their shoulders as they past.

Nearly completely lost in the novelty of his situation, Voldemort almost missed a small, tightly packed group of people that cut between two shoppers and disappeared down a side alleyway. But he quickly became alerted to several others who were standing at the front of the alleyway, who disappeared as several shoppers passed between them. Voldemort tried to keep tabs on where the second group had gone, but Arabella chose just that moment to come out of the shop with Harry in front of her, distracting him for a few seconds and causing him to completely lose sight of the people moving through the crowd.

As soon as Arabella was out of the shop Voldemort grabbed her by the elbow and steered her away from the direction of the alleyway. But Arabella quickly shook off the hold on her arm.

"What do you think you're doing?" She stated firmly.

"We're leaving." Was all the explanation he offered.

"Leaving? Why?"

"Call it a feeling." Voldemort answered, turning back over his shoulder. One of the people he had been watching was pushing through the crowd of shoppers. His path unmistakably following after them. "Do you have your wand?" He quickly asked.

Arabella turned to follow his stare. "Yes. It's in my bag. Why?"

"What about the boy?"

Harry quickly produced his own wand. "What's wrong?" He asked quickly, looking about as well.

Voldemort abruptly cut their procession short with a sharp turn into a side shop.

"In here."

Arabella quickly ushered Harry in ahead of her with Voldemort following after them.

"What is going on?" She asked again as Voldemort unceremoniously directed them to the back of the small shop.

"We're being followed." He stated plainly. "Hopefully we can lose them and apparate back to the school."

"Why not just apparate back and who cares if we lose them or not?" Harry asked quickly, forgetting for the moment how he was going to apparate anywhere, for that matter.

"Because if they see us they'll just follow." Voldemort answered. "Leaving them guessing where we went will buy us the time we need to get safely inside the castle gates and alert Dumbledore to the possible danger that he's about to have a group of Deatheaters for tea."

Without any further need of explanation, Arabella quickly guided Harry in front of her towards the back of the shop. Through all of his directing their steps, Arabella was ever conscience of the fact that Voldemort purposefully kept his body between she and Harry and whatever unseen danger he felt was pursuing them.

Once out the back door, Voldemort suddenly took the lead again, his eyes never resting for so much as a second it seemed on any one area. Based on his earlier actions Arabella reasoned the greatest danger had now shifted to in front of them. But that did not preclude an attack from the rear still, as she quickly placed Harry in front of her and took up guarding the rear.

Voldemort quickly led them back up the alleyway and again out onto the crowded street. For a few seconds he seemed to simply stand there, unsure, it seemed to Arabella, of what course of action to take next.

"We can't just stand here." She stated from behind him, keeping a watch on their rear. "They'll be following us soon enough."

"I'm not worry about whose behind us." Voldemort replied. "I more worried about whose waiting for us."

Arabella spun her attention back to the front. "What do you mean?"

Voldemort pointed to a few men standing across the street. "They left guards behind to watch the alleyway openings. They anticipated we would do exactly what we did."

"Now what?" Arabella asked.

But she did have long to wait for an answer. Almost instantly a spell cut just past her cheek. Voldemort instantly grabbed her by the hand and pulled her to cover as he directed Harry in front of them. Several more spells suddenly cut past where they had been standing, which Arabella was certain would have found their targets if Voldemort hadn't reacted as quickly as he did.

As soon as the spells started flying, people began to scramble for cover.

Firing off spells of her own, Arabella looked about desperately for her godson. A fleeing bystander had cut between them, followed by a rush of several others. Arabella had heard him call her name, but couldn't find any sight of him in the fleeing crowd.

"Harry!" She called over the frantic scream of the other people around them.

Not getting an answer, Arabella quickly moved her position until she was able to put her back to Voldemort.

"Harry's gone." She called over her shoulder to him as she deflected a spell coming from the side.

"What do you mean 'gone'?" Voldemort asked as he fired off a spell that took down one of the Deatheaters attacking them.

"I can't find him. When the attack started, people ran. He must have gotten caught in the crowd."

Voldemort turned briefly to her. "Then find him." He stated sharply.

"But the Deatheaters...?" Arabella questioned.

"I'll handle the Deatheaters." Voldemort called back to her. "I know their tactics better than anyone could. Do your part, Arabella. Find Harry."

The words struck her like a well-phrased charm, calming her frayed nerves a little. Reminding her of her purpose.

So simple.

So well planned. A course of action she and Sirius had laid out between them early on when Harry had first come into their care. Their understanding had always been that should they ever get in a situation just like this, where they were under attack and Harry was separated from them, Sirius would do the fighting. She only had to do one thing.

Find Harry.

Leave the fighting to...Arabella turned abruptly to the man behind her.

No matter where they were, it seemed, in the best or worst of times, she could always find some small part of Sirius peeking out from behind those eyes. This time it was in those simple words. Find Harry.

Arabella quickly shook off the feeling of familiarity. She had a job to do. Voldemort would do his part, she had no doubt. She only had to do her's.

Find Harry.

Frantically, Arabella looked about, deflecting spells as she searched for her godson.

"Arabella!"

The sound of the cry caught her attention quicker than the sound of her own name.

Harry's voice.

Arabella followed the sound with her eyes. As the curtain of black material briefly parted, Arabella caught sight of her godson being pulled to the side by a Deatheater who had a tight hold on his arm.

"Arabella!"

Arabella instantly ran for the last place she had seen Harry. But the black curtain had closed again in front of her even as she raced after her godson. Aiming her wand, she fired off three spell s in rapid succession, taking down one of the Deatheaters and scattering the other two for the moment. Behind them Arabella caught sight of her godson once again.

Reaching out, Arabella grabbed Harry's hand as he reached for her, fighting the other's hold on him as strongly as he could. But with Arabella's added leverage, Harry managed to break the hold and quickly pushed himself towards his godmother.

Arabella didn't waste any time getting them both out of the immediate area and back to where Voldemort stood, doing an admirable job of keeping the Deatheaters busy.

As he registered their return, Voldemort looked down for a moment as he checked to make sure Arabella and Harry were both safe.

But the momentary distraction was all that was necessary to make his guard vulnerable. A sudden spell fired from across the street caught him across the temple. With a loud cry of pain, he fell to the pavement, barely managing to maintain any balance as Arabella grabbed his arm to keep him from going down completely.

"Voldemort!" Arabella cried.

"A lucky shot." He replied, already wiping a stream of blood off the side of his face that flowed from a nasty wound just above his left eye.

Arabella could see he was doing his best to cover the pain. They were simply too vulnerable where they were. To out in the open. Without thinking of more than trying to get them some sort of momentary cover, Arabella shoved Harry down the street a few yards and into the next alleyway, grabbing Voldemort by the arm and pulling him with her as she directed them down the opening, praying all the while there was an opening at the other end.

But their luck had apparently run out as they met with a solid brick wall.

Staring at the brick wall before them, Voldemort turned an uncharacteristically calm expression to her. "This is part of your plan, correct?" He asked, his tone matching his face.

Arabella had already turned to face the one opening of the alleyway. "Hardly." She stated. "But I'm not just going to stand here and be shot down."

Voldemort forced himself to stay on his feet. "You're not facing anything." He stated past the pain in his voice. "We past a doorway a few yards back up the alleyway. That is where we need to reach. Your job is to get the boy through that door. That's all you concentrate on."

Arabella looked at him skeptically. "The Deatheaters are not going to let us just walk up to that door."

"No. They will likely be doing everything in their power to stop you."

"Then we still need cover."

"You'll have it." He stated resolutely.

Arabella could hear the running footsteps coming down the alleyway. They were closer than she anticipated. She quickly turned to the man next to her. Already she could see the strain just staying upright was having on him as beads of sweat formed on his face.

"You can hardly stand." She stated. "How can you fight them alone?"

The look that she met as the man turned to face her so shocked her that Arabella pulled back slightly, feeling a cold shiver run down her back. She was suddenly sure without a doubt the man could do exactly what he said he would. The sheer determination and hatred in his expression was unlike any she had ever seen there before.

"Because," a very cold, very emotionless voice answered her, "I am Lord Voldemort. And these fools will learn the price for their arrogance to think they can attack their lord and suffer no retribution for it. This is a lesson long overdue."

Arabella pulled back slightly, keeping Harry close to her.

"You will follow behind me." He informed her in the same cold voice. "Keep the boy with you. When you reach the doorway, you get inside and you apparate back to the castle."

Arabella could think of nothing else to do but simply nod in agreement.

"Very well then." The man stated, pulling himself up to the body's full height. "It is time to teach these pathetic fools a lesson in who their master is."

Arabella watched in stunned silence as the man headed down the alleyway without so much as flinching at the fate he faced. If anything, Arabella would say he was practically running to meet it with a confident eagerness. Or even better, with anger. That was the look she had such a hard time reconciling to the face of the man she loved. It was a cold, burning anger. One that bordered on being out of control.

One that eagerly sought its victims.

And in that moment, she suddenly felt very sorry for the Deatheaters who were headed towards them.

Arabella quickly directed Harry with her as they took off in Voldemort's wake. As they hurried down the alleyway, she instinctively paused as she saw the group of black robes headed at them. But Voldemort didn't pause, or slow his pace one bit as he continued towards them.

"Arrogant fools!" He bellowed at them as he approached them. "You dare assault me! You dare interfere with my plans! You will learn the better of your actions."

The Deatheaters, wands already drawn, fired off several spells at the approaching man, who they surely thought of as mad. A lone person coming down the alleyway threatening them? He had to be deranged.

But if they thought that, Voldemort quickly changed their minds.

Arabella was stunned at how quickly the attack happened. The spells fired at the three of them were quickly, and seemingly effortlessly, countered. And before the Deatheaters could regain their advantage, Voldemort abruptly had them on the defensive. Several spells hit the closest to them, taking out several of those within the group. But Voldemort never seemed to notice or care what effect his attack was having. The assault on the Deatheaters never stopped. Within seconds they were retreating from their prey, cowering back from the advancing man.

"Speak, worms!" He shouted at them. "Explain by whose orders you make such an attack! Your master did not order it! I want to know who assumes to lead you! I want to know who you follow now! Fools! Cowards! You abandon me as though I never existed? This is your loyalty to me? This is your allegiance! Dogs show more allegiance to their masters than you have shown to me."

At first the Deatheaters looked stunned, then confused. But either way, the effect of Voldemort's attack was exactly what he set out to do. Step by step he drove them back. But no matter how effective his attack, Arabella was sure of only one thing. He couldn't keep it up for long. He was already injured, and the injury was sapping his strength and dividing his concentration. They would never make it to the door. And even if they did, what then? Harry couldn't apparate, she doubted if Voldemort could, and she wasn't sure she could handle them both even with a port key.

Reaching the door seemed to Arabella to take ages. But finally it came into sight and with a few more steps she managed to grab the handle and force it open, shoving Harry inside ahead of her. Nearly falling to the floor, she gathered Harry close to her, turning as she heard the heavy door slam shut after them. Turning she saw Voldemort standing with his back to it, breathing as though drawing air into his lungs was a concentrated effort.

"Now what?" she asked quickly.

The door behind him shook as a spell hit it. Voldemort all but stumbled forward and nearly collapsed on the ground next to them. "We have to apparate back to the castle. The spell I placed on the door won't hold them back forever. Likely just enough for us to hopefully make it safely within the castle gates."

Harry quickly glanced up at his godmother, a look Voldemort didn't miss.

"What?" he asked.

Arabella answered for Harry as she turned back to the man next to her. "Harry can't apparate. He hasn't learned how yet."

The look on Voldemort's face was somewhere between surprise and exasperation. But a second hit to the door got him to his feet as he quickly positioned himself between them. Grabbing Arabella's arm, he traced a line with his wand on the area from her wrist to her elbow. In the wake of his wand's tip, a dark line appeared on her arm which grow in length and began to coil about itself as she watched.

Grabbing Harry's wrist, Voldemort placed his wand tip to the boy's skin, but stopped abruptly as he stared at the arm.

"Now that is interesting." he muttered, before dropping his hold.

Another spell shook the door as Voldemort turned to it, but quickly brought his concentration back to what he was doing. Speaking a quick spell, a dark cloud rose around them, enveloping them completely and blocking out any sight of the room they sat in.

When the cloud dissipated, Arabella was shocked to find all three of them now seated on a plush red rug in a room that looked very much like one of the guest rooms at the castle.

"Where are we?" she ask, looking about.

"My quarters, at the castle." came the rasped reply next to her.

Arabella turned to the man next to her, who looked for all the world like he was going to pass out at any minute. "How did we get here?"

Voldemort gave a shaky laugh. "I summoned us here."

Any further questions were cut short but a soft cry of pain from her other side.

"Harry?" Turning to him, Arabella quickly pulled his hand back from were he was rubbing his arm. A short but nasty cut ran up his arm from just above the wrist. "Where did you get this?" she ask.

"I'm not sure." Harry replied as Arabella examined the wound more closely. "When I got separated from you in Diagon Alley, someone knocked me down. I must have cut it then."

"It's not very deep." Arabella noted with a sigh of relief. "But it will have to be cleaned. Stay here."

Within a few moments Arabella was back with a small bottle and a bit of cloth. Voldemort had already dragged himself into one of the high-backed chairs while Harry was standing looking about the room.

"All right," she said gently, leading Harry to the nearby sofa and examining the cut again, "let's have a look at that."

Harry winced as she wiped something the smelled suspiciously like alcohol over the fresh cut, causing her to stop abruptly.

"I'm sorry, Harry." She said softly, gently brushing his hair back. "I'll be done in a minute. All right?"

Harry nodded slightly as Arabella went back to cleaning the cut as Voldemort huffed his disapproval in the background.

"Honestly, woman!" He rasp in disgust. "Stop coddling the boy! How do you expect to him to grow up to ever be able to do anything for himself with you coddling him all the time?"

Arabella turned sharply to the man. "He is my godson. And I will 'coddle' him all I want to, thank you."

"It's really not so bad." Harry replied with a small, embarrassed smile. "And she's really pretty good at it."

Arabella gave him a soft kiss on the head as she got up. "That's very sweet, Dear." She said as Voldemort made some noise in the background that sound very much like someone hacking.

"Well, like it or not, it looks like I'm going to be forced to 'coddle' you as well." Arabella stated, getting up and moving over to where Voldemort sat. The man visibly pulled away from her as though she were approaching him with a drawn wand.

"What do you mean?"

Arabella pulled another piece of cloth out of her robes. "I mean you have a cut as well. Didn't you notice?"

Voldemort reached up and pulled the cloth down as Arabella touched it to the side of his head. Sure enough the cloth came away covered in a fair amount of blood. Voldemort sat staring at it as though transfixed when Arabella reached down and gently took it from him, pressing it back to the side of his head again.

"It's not doing you any good holding it in your hand." She chided softly. "Keep it pressed to the cut."

Voldemort snatched the cloth away from her and held it over the cut himself.

"I can see to myself." He stated sharply.

Arabella shrugged and turned her attention back to Harry. "Suit yourself." She replied without a backward glance at him.

Returning to her seat beside Harry, Arabella set about finishing taking care of his injury. First she made sure it wasn't infected, then checked it for any spells, charms, or poisons that might have been inflicted on her godson by way of the injury just in case it hadn't happened completely by accident, before performing a quick healing spell to close the wound. Soon all that remained was a faint red line where the cut had been.

For his part, Voldemort sat silently in his own chair, watching Arabella as she worked on Harry's injury. His eyes never once left her as he studied her gently caring for her godson. Throughout the whole procedure, he also never once bothered with his own injury. Instead he simply sat with the cloth still pressed to the side of his head.

Once she had finished with Harry, Arabella turned around, noticing Voldemort's lack of attention in dealing with his own injury, as well as the strange stare he had fixed on her. But he quickly dropped his eyes when he saw her looking at him, a customary scowl coming back to his face.

With a small, cautious smile, Arabella walked over to where he sat and, gently pulling his hand back, removed the cloth.

"Here," she said in a kinder tone than she had used with him previously, "let me see that."

Arabella had expected a good deal of protest and even a few nasty comments. But to her surprise, Voldemort said nothing. Instead he sat perfectly still with his eyes closed as she cleaned the cut, checked it, and finally healed it, much as she had done Harry's.

"All right?" She asked when she had finished.

Voldemort opened his eyes and cautiously brushed the tips of his fingers over where the cut had been. Pulling his hand back down he stared at it as thought he had expected to still see blood.

"Yes." He replied in an oddly quiet tone. "Yes. It's fine. Thank you."

Arabella had already started back towards where Harry sat. But she turned abruptly back to the man in the chair as though he had just struck her across the back.

Now there was a phrase she would have bet her last knut the man didn't know.

Arabella paused for just a moment. "You're welcome." She responded finally.

Q&A

THE BONDS THAT TIE

SiriusLuver:

I'm very glad you liked it, Dear. Thank you.

FAMILY REATIONS

Spangled Banner:

Good story, but there are a lot of typos, even in the beginning, that really should be fixed.
I'm assuming it's "cold" solitude, not sold. And "Retched morning" should be "wretched morning." Retch means to throw up.

Go read the Author's Page, Dear. I make no apologies for my poor spelling. I simply look at it like this. Checking for spelling errors is what they actually pay someone (Editors) to do at the publishing companies. I am simply assuring someone of job security.

CrimsonReality:

Thank you, Dear.

Skahducky:

I really liked how you handled Arabella's conversation with Voldemort. He was nice enough, but his true personality showed through a few times. You really did a good job mixing the two personalities. I was wondering, though, Orion said that the nicer they are to Voldemort, the more Sirius' personality will come out. Arabella was pretty nice throughout the conversation, so I was surprised that Voldemort's hatred of Dumbledore showed through at the end. Maybe it'll take more than just one nice conversation for Sirius to be able to come back in control?
The wizard in the north is sounding really scary right about now. Voldemort's conclusions about him seem pretty much right.
It occured to me how strange it is to see phrases such as, "Voldemort gave a small smile, then hurried after her." I'm pretty sure this is the first story where Voldemort has done anything as innocent as hurry after someone or walk with them on the other person's invitation. It seems very surreal. Anyway, this is a great chapter. Please update soon!

Well, thank you, Dear. I am glad you liked the how the chapter worked. Pulling off Voldemort is no easy task here. And yes, every now and then his personality and his only, in all its twisted glory, shows through. Sirius' personality shows through mostly as the steel rod in the nuclear reactor of Voldemrot's volatile personality traits. He is the sole reason Voldemort is simply so...likeable right now.

Voldemort's hatred of Dumbledore is being tempered down, Dear. He's sitting in the same room with the man, not killing him. For Voldemort, where Dumbledore is concerned, that IS tempered down.

And please understand, it takes more than just being nice to Voldemort to help Sirius. In fact, all they are doing by not irritating the man is helping Sirius survive. Sirius can only manifest himself fully if Voldemort allows it, as shown in the earlier chapter. Past that, as you will see in later chapters, Sirius can do little but sabotage Voldemort from within, so to speak.

Voldemort is only half right about how dangerous the wizard in the north is. This is a very powerful force that, really, only one person is totally capable of dealing with.

You think it's strange to see it? Try WRITING it!

Dear, we haven't even reached surreal yet where this story is headed.

Glad you are enjoying it.

MasterLupin:

Well now we see how people are starting to deal with the new personality that could be emerging, but how will Harry deal with it. For him it must be agonizing that the man who would be his father is no longer the man he knew, almost ineffect saying that he has lost his father agian but the body is not dead mearly being used. I would think that that would be very hard on Harry, having lost the fathere figure he knew but yet seeing him every day.

It's no picnic to be sure. But Harry hasn't really lost Sirius. He understands that underneath the part that is Voldemort, is his godfather. And as long as he doesn't do anything to upset Voldemort, Sirius stays safe. But Harry isn't about to be bullied into doing anything either. He has every intention of doing just what Sirius told him to do. Refuse to help Voldemort. But Voldemort has planned for that, as you'll see in later chapters. Where force doesn't work, coercion is a nice substitute.

SiriusLuver:

LUVIN THE STORY! you are so much better than JKR...sirius lives, but is a target! it so works! i luv sirius! i like the twist youve put on your stories so that harry doesnt just have A god parent, he has two...and they're in luv so that harry can have semi-real parents...if you know what i mean...cuz im confuzin myself...that happens a lot...just outta curiousity, why do you call everyone 'dear'? its not a bad thing, just wonderin...im random and weird, i know...anyway, what are all the stories i shoul read to have this make more sense or know more junk? ive only read this and family life. anyway, luvin the story, write more...and im gonna get clam chowder. BYE!

I am so glad you are enjoying it, Dear. Thank you for reading.

Better than JKR? That is high praise indeed. Thank you!

I thought poor Sirius needed a love interest. He's just too dang sexy to be running around loose in my opinion. Too bad they cast Gary Oldman in that part (Sigh).

The 'Dear' thing, Dear, is just my way of talking when I type. I also do it when I talk. In effect, when I answer questions in Q&A, I do it just as though I were sitting in the room with you. So it is simply a quirk of mine, you see.

If you have read Family Life you will get most of Family Relations. Enemies and Runaway would not hurt. Enemies I can sum up for you in just a few sentences to understand this story though, should you not want to spend a few weekends reading that story, as that it is quite long. Katlin, who has already appeared in this story, is the head of Voldemort's Elite Deatheaters. Of all the Deatheaters, these people are the worst. She is also, coincidentally, married to Sirius' brother, Orion, who is a very high ranking Unspeakable in the Department of Mysteries. How they got to be husband and wife is the whole story behind Enemies. Also, the wizard in the north is mentioned in greater detail in Enemies, as is Bo better explained, and you get a few extra plot points that, though never resolved in Enemies, will be here and in the next story, Family Ties.

Now, Runaway is a bit of a different matter. That story actually had ties to this chapter in what Voldemort did to Arabella and explains why he didn't place the same line on Harry's arm as well. Also, it introduces you to Hershel Beckett in all his glory and explains the tie between he and Katlin.

I hope you enjoyed your clam chowder, Dear.

All reviews are as of 12/25/2005.

And remember;

Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, Happy Hanukkah, Happy Kawanza or by whatever other name you call this very blessed time of the year.