Chapter Nine: The Last of the Furies
Draco looked up as the door opened and closed soundlessly. He smiled at the door; Harry had come to visit him.
The invisibility cloak slid off Harry's form, and he held a finger up to his lips as he leaned against the door, listening for the sounds of Madam Pomfrey. After a few moments, he relaxed, and made his way to the bed, sitting down in the chair next to it, cloak pooling in his lap.
"Very daring of you to come to visit me in the middle of the day," Draco whispered.
Harry shrugged. "What can I say? I enjoy breaking rules and such," he whispered back. "Are you feeling any adverse effects from last night?"
Draco shook his head. "Just a bit more tired than usual, but that's probably from the curse, not the Mark."
Harry nodded. "Good."
"So have you heard anything from the Vampires yet?" Draco asked as he leaned back against the pillows.
"Yes. They're sending a representative to speak to me tomorrow night."
"You don't believe that."
"No, there is too much power assembling. They're all going to convene. Whether they will all be present at my meeting with their representative, I don't know, but all of the elders will be in the Forbidden Forest tomorrow."
"Good. That will make things go faster."
Harry nodded. "Yes. Speed is of the essence right now. Things are beginning to move faster than I foresaw."
And it was true. Dumbledore was tracking down the next Horcrux as they spoke, and he expected Harry to speak to Slughorn about them soon. Voldemort's plans to kill Dumbledore were moving, as well, even though he was being infuriatingly quiet about them. And Mars, the planet which symbolized war, was rising in the sky. The very war for the Wizarding World was approaching faster than it had been expected.
"I'll have to get back to working on the cabinet, then," Draco whispered, his voice sounding relieved to be back on his old task.
"You don't have to do anything," Harry grinned, reaching over to tap the lightning bolt mark. "But, I think that we should make sure it works. It's part of the plan, so it has to be done by someone in Hogwarts."
"Don't worry, Harry, I'll get it. You just concentrate on fooling Dumbledore long enough for me to figure it out."
"Of course. Take your time."
"Well done" was the one line note which Hedwig delivered to Harry as he made his way to detention. A trickle of irritation fluttered down Harry's spine as he felt the letter char and smolder inside his clenched fist as tiny lightning bolts burned it to ashes.
Complimented for hurting Draco. He hadn't wanted to mar Draco in any way – and even though he had, he hadn't done it for Voldemort.
What a lovely mood for starting detention with Snape – the detention he'd earned when he'd attacked Draco. The detention placed conveniently over the last Quidditch game of the year. It actually had flowed quite nicely into Harry's latest scheme – involving Ginny – and he'd been almost cheerful about it until Hedwig had brought him Voldemort's latest missive.
It was probably all for the better, he thought. It wouldn't do for Snape to see him actually enjoying detention.
"Ah, Potter," said Snape, when Harry had knocked on his door and entered the unpleasantly familiar office; it was just as dimly lit as ever, and the same slimy dead objects were suspended in colored potions around the wall. Feeling a strange sense of accomplishment, Harry realized that he could probably recognize most of them now.
Ominously, there were many cobwebbed boxes piled on a table where Harry was clearly supposed to sit; they had an aura of tedious, hard, and pointless drudgery about them.
"Mr. Filch has been looking for someone to clear out these old files," said Snape softly. "They are records of past Hogwarts wrongdoers and their punishments. Where the ink has gone faint, or the cards have suffered damage from mice, we would like you to copy out the crimes and punishments afresh and, making sure that they are in alphabetical order, replace them in the boxes. You will not use magic."
"Right, Professor," said Harry, with as much contempt as he could put into the last three syllables.
"I thought you could start," said Snape, a malicious smile on his lips, "with boxes one thousand and twelve to one thousand and fifty-six. You will find some familiar names in there, which should add interest to the task. Here, you see…"
He pulled out a card from one of the topmost boxes with a flourish and read, "'James Potter and Sirius Black. Apprehended using an illegal hex upon Bertram Aubrey. Aubrey's head twice normal size. Double detention.'" Snape sneered. "It might be such a comfort to think that, thought they are gone, a record of their great achievements remains…"
Harry couldn't be bothered to feel anything more than mild irritation at this little display. Sure, it was his father and his godfather, but they were both dead. Let the dead stay dead, he thought at Snape with a glare that he only half meant. He eased himself into the chair in front of the boxes and pulled one toward him.
It was, as he had anticipated, useless, boring work, punctuated, as Snape had clearly planned, with slightly interesting moments when he had just read his father or Sirius' name, usually coupled together in various petty misdeeds, and occasionally accompanied by those of Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew. And, while he copied out their various offenses and punishments, he wondered what was going on outside, where the match would have just started… Ginny playing Seeker against Cho…
How the game ended would change his strategy for how he would place Ginny between the lies he'd told Ron and Hermione and the truth.
Harry glanced again and again at the large clock ticking on the wall. It seemed to be moving half as fast as a regular clock; perhaps Snape had bewitched it to go extra slowly? Half an hour stretched into an hour, which stretched into an hour and a half. Finally, when the clock read ten past one, Snape, who had not spoken at all since setting Harry to his task, looked up. "I think that will do," he said coldly. "Mark the place you have reached. You will continue at ten o'clock next Saturday."
"Yes, sir." Harry fervently hoped that Draco would finish the Cabinet before the next time he had to do that again. He stuffed a bent card into the box at random and hurried out of the door before Snape could change his mind, racing back up the stone steps, straining his ears to hear a sound from the pitch, but all was quiet… It was all over then…
He hesitated outside the crowded Great Hall, then ran up the marble staircase; whether Gryffindor had won or lost, the team usually celebrated or commiserated in their own Common Room.
"Quid agis?" (lit. "what's happening?) he said to the Fat Lady, his mind going over his two plans, preparing for whichever scenario he might find inside.
Her expression was unreadable as she replied. "You'll see."
And she swung forward.
A roar of celebration erupted from the hole behind her. Harry gaped as people began to scream at the sight of him; several hands pulled him into the room.
"We won!" yelled Ron, bounding into sight and brandishing the silver Cup at Harry. "We won! Four hundred and fifty to a hundred and forty! We won!"
Harry looked around for Ginny, and spotted her running towards him. Noting the blazing look on her face as she threw her arms around him and – more importantly – that there were fifty people watching, Harry kissed her.
The common room had gone very quiet. Then several people wolf-whistled, and there was an outbreak of nervous giggling. Perfect, Harry thought.
As he broke away from her, his eyes sought out Ron. For a tiny fraction of a second, they looked at each other before Ron gave a tiny jerk of the head that Harry understood to mean "Well- if you must."
Harry could almost feel the newest lie nestle into place over the eyes of all those around him. That had been simply too easy.
Harry slipped through the trees of the Forbidden Forest as silently as a wraith entreats upon the nightmares of children. Squinting slightly in the darkness, he could barely make out the patches of dim moonlight that shone through the trees and guided his footsteps onward through the forest. Deep in the dark recesses, a shadowed messenger awaited his arrival.
The man, if he could be termed a man, seemed oblivious to Harry's presence as the boy slipped from the dense shrubbery into the clearing. But Harry was not fooled. The vampire's heightened senses would have heard his footsteps, as he had made an effort to make a slight sound as he entered the clearing.
"Your master has taught you well," the shadow-covered creature spoke upon the very air of the night.
"I am my own master," Harry replied in a tone just as dark, just as soothing to the ear.
"Of course you are. We would not be meeting were you not. Vampires do not take well to those of weak will."
Harry felt the creature's power stirring in the air around him, the natural allure of the vampire trying to soothe him, to make him trust the creature. He pushed such thoughts out of his mind with a distinctive shove that caused the vampire to physically recoil.
"Indeed, you have no master, Hades' bone and flesh." The vampire's voice held respect, a tone not often heard from the creatures of blood and darkness. "Why do you summon us?"
"I seek your counsel, and your aid, to change this downward spiral that our world is trapped in."
"Your world, sun dweller; not ours."
"My world," Harry scoffed at the idea. "Your world. They are the same in substance. My kind rules the mornings and the day while they fear yours and the night you bring. And that fear breeds hatred, which causes them to seek to destroy your kind."
"And you do not seek to do the same? Surprising."
Harry ignored the droll tone. "I seek to offer you that world."
"In return for what?"
"In return for exactly what I have requested. I seek the counsel of the vampires; and their aid, as well."
"You wish us to follow your step."
"I wish to allow you to live in the shadow I plan to cast upon this world."
The creature was silent for a moment. "I will bring this to my race. It is not a decision I alone can make for us. It will take time for the message to be transported to the pockets of the world in which we thrive, and even longer for us to come to an agreement. If you are patient, I will bring our answer to you."
"Do as you will, but time may not wait for you. Events are now in motion that even I cannot slow. Come to your decision quickly," Harry answered and disappeared into the darkness, his movement masked even to the vampire's senses.
One by one, shadows emerged from the gnarled roots of the trees that surrounded the clearing. One by one, the vampires who had waited in the shadows to hear what this human had to say joined their brethren in the cloud-covered moonlight.
"You heard his words for yourselves, brethren. What are your thoughts?" the vampire who had spoken with Harry asked.
One to his right rasped, "When you called us all here, Elder, we were curious as to why we all were needed to hear the warbling of a human. Now we see what you mean."
"This human has the power," another commented. "He could do what he seeks."
"Are you sure that he will keep to his promise? He is human. They are not to be trusted."
"He is not human. He has too much magic to be only human. Somewhere in his blood must flow the blood of a greater creature."
Thoughts were tossed back and forth upon the currents of the night as the vampires discussed the situation.
"Elder, why do we not offer him our aid and see how he acts?" one finally suggested. "The price he places on our services is too great a price for him not to be serious."
The oldest vampire nodded serenely. "Yes. By his actions he shall earn our loyalty or our betrayal."
Draco wore a rather petulant look when he allowed Harry to enter the Room of Requirement.
"Ah, you've heard," Harry mumbled, crossing to where Draco leaned upon the Cabinet he was trying to fix.
"Weasley? Ginny Weasley? Have you no sense of-"
"I do have a sense of taste, Draco, hence why I'm simply using her."
"Explain."
Harry pulled a reluctant Draco into his embrace, sitting back against a desk that filled part of the cluttered space. "I needed a distraction, something for everyone else to see; a buffer between what's truth and what's not. Now those who felt threads of suspicion are removed from that truth by one more step."
"I still don't like it."
"Neither do I. I have to actually appear to dote on her."
"I can't find it in my heart to be sympathetic."
"Good. I don't need sympathy. But I do need to get the taste of her out of my mouth."
"That could be arranged."
Harry and Draco waited for the Vampires to appear, Harry waiting impassively, and Draco shifting impatiently beside him. Behind them, in a semi-circle, stood the already Marked Centaurs, the first of the Furies of Hades to be Marked.
Harry watched as clouds began to fill the sky, a sign of his growing power. There was a scent of rain in the air, the herald of an approaching storm. He was glad that the Vampires had decided quickly that they would join him. It had taken them a week to gather together in the Forest without alerting any, even Dumbledore, to their presence. This was truly all Harry needed to test their worth; if Dumbledore had not noticed their gathering power, then they truly were strong enough to become his Furies.
The shadows began to slip from the trees, as the moon was covered over by clouds. The steady light from Draco's Lumos spell was now the only light in the clearing. Fitting, Harry thought, that Draco should be the one light by which he saw.
The Vampires slipped from the shadows, one by one, to stand together on the opposite edge of the clearing.
"Fathered by Jupiter, son of Hades, we offer you our counsel and aid in return for the place you have promised us in our world," the Vampire at the front of the huddle spoke. He was the Elder, Harry mused, the very same vampie who had first spoken with him on behalf of his kind.
"I welcome your aid and your counsel, not only as your leader, but as your brother," Harry stepped toward them, extending his hand in welcome. "Those you see behind me are the Furies of Hades. As such, we are all family, united together under one cause, one blood, one flesh. Darkness courses through us all, and unites us. The King of the Dead watches over us, and is our father. Jupiter, from whom Ravenclaw descends, watches over me, and, as such, my protection shall cover you, as it does all of my Furies. Welcome home, my prodigal children of the night."
The Vampire Elder grasped Harry's hand as thunder crashed above their heads. Lightning split the night, coursing down towards the earth to strike down upon Harry. It molded around him and reflected, splitting into smaller bolts that veered towards each Vampire. Some screamed; others shrieked; and some remained silent as Harry's power coursed through them, and left as suddenly as it had come, leaving only his mark behind. It lay, as it did with the Centaurs, below the neck, between the collarbones of the Vampires: a single blue lightning bolt, haloed by blue wings.
"And, thus, we are united," Harry's words spoke into the darkened clearing, as the storm clouds began to recede, leaving only lightly falling rain.
Hedwig was waiting for Harry when he returned to the Gryffindor boys' dorm.
"You are growing still in your power," she nodded with approval. "Soon you will be fully aware of all you can do."
"I look forward to it," Harry cooed back at her.
"Oh yes, He wishes to see you. He realizes that you are initiating the Vampires tonight, but you must discuss something with him."
Harry nodded, accepting the letter from Hedwig and reading the brief lines which stated all she had just told him. The letter burned in his hand as his inner magic bubbled within his hand, and he scattered the ashes on the floor before lying down on his bed and letting down his mental defenses enough for Voldemort's dreamscape to take hold.
He appeared in Voldemort's study, seated in a plush green chair opposite Voldemort himself.
"It is very late; they must have accepted you."
"They have. The Furies of Hades are now complete."
Voldemort raised an eyebrow. "Are you not going to bring young Malfoy into your fold?"
Harry's mind reeled for a minute. Voldemort did not know that he had removed Draco's Mark. He could not sense it! How strange. Harry always could feel the threads that lead to his Furies. The Dark Mark must be very different from his own then, the difference between magic from Luna and magic from Sol shown more clearly.
"His Dark Mark must be removed first," Harry added a glare to make it more realistic. He was not sure if he truly wanted Voldemort to know of what he had done to Draco's Dark Mark yet.
"Yes," Voldemort's forked tongue drew out the 's' into a hiss. "I shall do that as soon as his mission is complete, and Dumbledore is dead."
"If you would tell me this plan, then I could make sure it occurs. Leaving me in the dark does not bode well for success," Harry pointed out in well-earned annoyance.
"Yes, this is true. Very well, I shall tell you the outline of the plan; no need to bore you with details, after all. Young Malfoy is creating a link through which those outside of Hogwarts can get in without anyone in Hogwarts, even yourself, knowing. When this is done, I will use that link to send my Death Eaters to attack Hogwarts from within. Young Malfoy himself will kill Dumbledore. That, in essence, is his true mission… his test of initiation, as it were."
"I thought his test was my loyalty," Harry snarled.
"That was your test, not his." Voldemort seemed to bask in Harry's anger. "Calm down, my Heir. I know what he means to you. I would not truly have harmed him, not damaged him in a way that could not be fixed."
Harry wasn't sure if he believed that, but it did not matter; Draco was removed from any threats now, anyway.
"So what is my role in this plan?"
Voldemort leaned forward in his chair, as if in eagerness, as he hissed, "Weaken Dumbledore so he may be killed."
Harry's eyes were unreadable for a minute, before gaining a small fire that had never once burned in the eyes of 'Harry Potter'. "Consider it done."
"I already do. You will not fail me, my Heir. Now, about these Vampires of yours; these new Furies."
"I will need to prepare a resting place for them."
"Yes. How do you plan to do such?"
"There is a graveyard around here, is there not?" Harry's eyes laughed as they locked with Voldemort's.
"Of course there is; you have already seen it." Voldemort's tone was equally amused.
"I want to rip it up, graves and all, and give them that land on which to rest. Dirt from their homelands will have to be imported, as well as their coffins, and this must all be done slowly, so as not to alert anyone before the time is right."
"Yes. Who would you have dig these graves?"
"Oh, the muggles in the area," Harry replied flippantly. "Put them all under the Imperius, and have them do the grunt work. Then, when they are finished, my Furies can have them as their first meal in their new home."
"Very good, my Heir. Write me all that you need ordered, and I shall see your graveyard made."
Hermione stiffened in her chair, and Ron looked over at her in understanding. He had been there when the Order had learned of this move of Harry's. They had found a small child, the only survivor of that "feast". The little girl hadn't lasted long, even with the combined efforts of the Order to save her; she had just lost too much blood. But he could almost hear her whispered words:
"…they had us all dig… deep holes in the dirt. I saw bones and wood brought up… they scared me. Mommy once said we were digging new graves before she became all weird again… six feet under, they said… though I never counted. Then, one day, they had all this dirt delivered, and told us to put it in the holes we made. I couldn't see anything different from that dirt as the dirt we had just dug up, but Mommy wasn't questioning it… so it had to have been different. Then they brought in these boxes, real long ones, like the ones we'd dug out sometimes. And we had to bury them kinda in the earth, but real near the surface. Then, after that night, people starting disappearing… one night Mommy didn't come back either…"
But Harry didn't seem to care for their memories, and he continued his story as if he was recalling something unimportant.