'Man's mind is so formed that it is far more susceptible to falsehood than to truth.'
~Desiderius Erasmus
NOTE: 'father' refers to Voldemort, 'dad' to James.
Harry stiffened slightly as he heard footfalls signalling someone was coming up the stairs. He had heard who he had guessed were the Order members clunking their way around the house, he swore one had knocked something over as, for a few minutes, he could hear screeching and managed to make out words like 'mudblood' and 'blood traitor'. He smirked a little at this before schooling his expression, no longer wearing his mask he could no longer show the amusement he felt at the group that had eluded his father for so long.
"Harry," said his father, curling his long fingers around his arm.
"Do you wish me to stay behind My Lord?" asked Harry, using the address he had been told to use at the meetings.
"Yes," replied Voldemort, a hint of a smile playing at his lipless mouth when he heard his son use his title.
Watching the rest of the Death Eaters file out - some limping or being held up by others, his father had been particularly angry - Harry closed the door behind them before turning back to his father. Relaxing slightly, he took one of the seats at the massive table, barely glancing as his father magicked away the scrolls and bits of parchment that littered the polished wood. Once he was finished, Voldemort took a seat at the head of the table, propping his elbows on the smooth surface and interlacing his fingers.
"What is it father?" asked Harry, watching as awareness came back to his father's eyes and he re-focused on the matter at hand.
"Harry, I believe it is time for you to go out on missions, you are not yet ready for raids but I am aware that you are incredibly talented in the art of subterfuge. The Order are powerful and I have refrained from doing so thus far because I never wanted you to be captured or worse die. However, recently I have re-evaluated this view. The Order will not kill you if you are indeed captured and so I believe it is safe enough. Although, in the face of capture I want you to gain their trust, learn as much about them as you can and report back to me. This is of course a back-up plan of sorts and all my Death Eater's are ordered to do so in the face of capture and so I believe the same can apply to you. You are simply to useful to keep out of the field."
"But wouldn't they just want to kill me more for being your son?" asked Harry, feeling a little uneasy at the prospect of dying in an Order infested building.
"No, in fact they are more likely to keep you alive for that very reason. They will try and turn you against me, using their powers to make you go to the Light and tell them all that you know" answered Voldemort calmly.
"But…" started Harry, unsure that he would be able to pull it off.
"Are you questioning me?" his father hissed, his eyes blazing.
"No father, I was merely expressing my concern. I shall do as you ask should the need arise" replied Harry smoothly.
"Good, I apologise if I appeared angry, I was merely concerned that you doubted me."
"Never father, I would never doubt you" replied Harry emotionlessly.
"That is good to know. Now goodnight, I shall see you in the morning for your briefing" dismissed his father, waving a hand for emphasis.
"I look forward to it" said Harry. before turning on his heel and exiting the room.
That seemed like so long ago now, another lifetime even and, shaking his head, Harry dispelled it from his thoughts, quickly occluding his mind. The footsteps had stopped now, a sign that whoever it was was now on the landing. Straining his ears he could hear faint murmuring and checked his mental barriers. Satisfied, he waited, looking expectantly towards the door. Sure enough Dumbledore entered, his magenta robes providing colour to the otherwise drab room. Harry was surprised when he sat down on the bed. So this wasn't going to be an interrogation, how interesting. Inwardly smirking, he faced the powerful wizard externally displaying bemusement, judging by the twinkle in the old goat's eyes he had swallowed it hook, line and sinker.
"Now Harry," began Dumbledore, "I have discussed it with the others and I believe it is for the best if you are to attend Hogwarts. There you shall be given aptitude tests to make sure you can keep up with the coursework but before that you will be in seventh year until a decision is reached. The Sorting Hat will place you in one of the four houses and then it is up to you what path you choose. Your parents have already been contacted and are on their way as we speak, your father has said that they will house you and pay any expense for your education."
"Th, thank you" gasped Harry, injecting awe and gratitude into his normally impassive voice. His eyes widened a little and a smile graced his lips, giving him the look of being elated at the prospect of attending the so called school and living with the blood traitors, the family that would have used him to fulfil some stupid prophecy that no one even knew existed despite if it costed him his life! Controlling his breathing he took his thoughts away from such deadly waters and perused elsewhere. A patronus entered the room, a weasel by the looks of it:
"The Potter's are here" it reported before vanishing.
"Ah, Harry are you ready to meet your parents?" asked Dumbledore.
"What, what if they don't like me?" asked Harry quietly, looking at the floor.
"Harry, they've dreamed of this day for sixteen years, they are hardly going to hate you" said Dumbledore gently, placing a hand on his shoulder. Feeling a warmth shoot down his spine Harry noticed that his was no longer stuck to the chair. Flexing his aching muscles he sighed, hearing his bones crack as they got used to movement. Another hand movement and his robes had been transfigured into black jeans and a green t-shirt. Looking at Dumbledore quizzically the older man chuckled.
"I don't think that they would want to see you dressed up as a Death Eater" said Dumbledore before leading Harry out of the room gently.
At first Harry almost grinned in delight, his heart certainly beat faster, Dumbledore no doubt thought that this was due to meeting his parents. No, although he was a little nervous at meeting them - this would be the true test of his mask's strength - he was elated at the prospect of exploring the Headquarters. However this hope soon diminished as he realised they had hidden anything that could possibly identify the place to him. Stopping at a nondescript door, Harry was confused until he heard-
"Get away from the door Moony or I swear I'll hex you!" It was a man's voice, an angry man judging by the tone.
Placing a hand on the doorknob, Harry opened the door, feeling Dumbledore nudge him a little to go inside. Immediately the chatter ceased and all eyes flew to him. Scanning the occupents he noted a man with shaggy black hair, another standing by the door with light brown hair with streaks of grey, he had scratch marks on his arm and Harry frowned, running through a myriad of possible situations where they could have came from. He had guessed the man that had been shouting was the one that looked almost exactly like him, there was no mistaking that they were related. The red haired women next to his dad, Harry guessed was his mum, her emerald eyes again eerily like his. His father had once commented that they looked the exact colour of the killing curse and, after an 'experiment' Harry had found he was right.
"Harry" his mum uttered, her voice full of disbelief as if she thought this a dream and him an apparition.
"Mum" he croaked, his voice thick as if he was suppressing tears. That was all she needed to release the flood of emotion, pent up behind her strained expression. Embracing her, Harry stiffened initially before forcing himself to relax. His father had never hugged him and so it took some getting used to. Feeling her fingers comb through his hair he leaned into them, enjoying the feeling.
"You used to love that when you were a baby" said his dad, coming up behind his mum.
"I can't remember" he confessed, pulling away from his mum who looked as if she could have held him forever and still it wouldn't have been long enough.
"Well we'll have to create new memories then" said his mum, smiling brightly, it was radiant and filled Harry with a strange emotion. Happiness perhaps? He wasn't quite sure.
"That sounds good" sighed Harry, smiling.
"Hey kiddo, do you remember me?" asked the shaggy haired man gently.
"No, I'm sorry" replied Harry, feigning sadness.
"I'm wounded pup" said the man, clutching his heart dramatically.
"Sirius shut up, he was only one year old" said the man with the scratches, "Harry I'm Remus and this is your godfather Sirius."
"Its nice to meet you" said Harry, politely.
"James, do you mind if Remus and I come back with you?" asked Sirius, addressing his dad.
"Sure," replied James, "What do you say Harry, do you want to go home?"
"Yes" replied Harry grinning, "If that is okay of course" he added, looking at Dumbledore and injecting uncertainty into his voice.
"Of course Harry, I'm sure you have a lot to discuss. I will be by tomorrow to make sure everything is alright" answered Dumbledore, his blue eyes glittering more than ever, "Goodnight."
"Potter Manor" said Remus, throwing some floo powder into the fire and Harry watched as it roared, emerald flames rearing from the hearth. Stepping in with James and Lily, he felt himself spin and got rather dizzy before they pushed him out and he stumbled slightly before Sirius caught him.
"Welcome home Harry" said James, beaming.
A/N: Thank you for the feedback! I really should be working on my other stories but you motivated me to do this first!
Little explanation: Harry knows about the prophecy but he thinks the Light were just going to use him as a weapon, and his parents would basically give him up to the cause like a lamb to the slaughter without any training. Voldemort however trained him, feeding him lies about it to fuel his anger and so he could harness the rage and manipulate it - this all becomes relevent later which is why I'm mentioning it now to dispell confusion. I'll be calling James and Lily mainly by their first names from Harry's perspective, he only called them mum and dad in this chapter as he never knew their names - Voldemort never told him so he couldn't track them down.
One reviewer mentioned that there wasn't really anything to redeem. What I'm interested in is the nature/nurture arguement. If he has been fed these ideals for sixteen years he will believe them as he has nothing with which to provoke doubt at their claims. Will being placed in a new environment change Harry's ideals or will he stick with his mission and destroy the Order?
Oh and those who alerted, I apologise for the false alarm about the update. I clicked on the wrong story and the chapter I accidentally published was for a Criminal Minds fic I am working on which is rather embarressing as it wasn't even the right category! I have no idea how I managed that, so yeah I'm sorry :/
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter.
I apologise for any spelling and/or grammar mistakes contained within this chapter.
Please review!