'By the time a person has achieved years adequate for choosing a direction, the die is cast and the moment has long since passed which determined the future.'
~ Zelda Fitzgerald
Knocking the on the aged door, Harry stood back, waiting to be granted entrance. Hearing the words 'Come in,' he entered the office, immediately taken aback by how colourful it was. Where his father's study was bare, only filled with the necessary equipment to get work done, this place was filled to burst with trinkets of varying sizes. Some were clustered on the table next to the wide window, whereas others were stuffed in shelves that looked as if they were only held up by magic. Looking out, he could see a view of the lake, a hippogriff swooping low over the sparkling water, dipping it's talons into it as it went.
It was Friday, and after this meeting, he was expected to go to his parents house. They had been writing to him daily, the family owl Prosperpina delivering thick scrolls filled with information about themselves, and their lives. Through these he had gotten an insight into his 'family' and he almost pitied them. They were so full of hope that they would be a happy family, that he would be a dutiful son. Part of him wanted to see the looks on their faces when it was discovered he had betrayed them, but another, smaller, part of him felt a twinge of guilt. These people had been nothing but naïve, was this a crime punishable by death at the hands of his father?
He was still struggling to answer that one. Normally he would have said 'yes' straight away. However, since he had come to know them better, he could see that they genuinely thought they were doing the best for him. They had thought their son was dead for sixteen years, that had to bring with it some baggage, but instead of making it awkward, they tried their best to help him fit in. It was nice, but it was also stupid. He remembered his first thoughts as he got to know them. He believed them stupid, and ignorant. He was angry that they would have sold him to the cause as his father had told him. However, he was having some doubts about that now. The people he had met had been nothing like what his father had described. He knew that they could be trying to lull him into a false sense of security, but somehow he doubted that this was the case here. Dumbledore, well obviously he would be suspicious about the old man, but his parents just blindly followed his orders.
And then there was Ginny.
From what he had been told, the Weasley's were inbred, moronic fools, with hardly any galleons to their name. Now, even though the latter was true, he couldn't say that Ginny fit any of the former adjectives. She was sweet, brilliant, and understanding. She knew to look past his flaws, and really see him. Ron was certainly moronic, but he had his heart in the right place, and he too cared for Harry. It was strange being around touchy-feely people all the time, but to them they had always lived like that. Just because their outlook was different from his father's did not mean they were bad people. Not really.
However, he still had to follow orders. Family was family. Although the Potter's were his biological family, Voldemort had raised him, and he couldn't leave his side. Some things are thicker than blood, and he was indebted to the man in a way he wasn't to the Potter's. Without his help he wouldn't be the man he was today, he wouldn't have the advantages he had now.
He owed him, and debts had to be repaid.
"Harry, it has come to my attention that you were given a detention from Professor Snape," said Dumbledore, ending Harry's musings and bringing him back to the present. He could feel him trying to enter his mind, and was thankful his father had taught him Occlumency - yet another reason why he couldn't betray him.
"Yes, Professor Dumbledore," replied Harry, taking a seat in front of his desk.
"Is everything alright? You have a clear record across the board, this is the first sign of disrespect you have shown, was there something that prompted it?"
"Everything is fine, sir," said Harry automatically.
"If there was something wrong, you know you can come to me," assured Dumbledore, and Harry felt another nudge at his mental barriers.
"I know, thank you sir-"
"Professor Dumbledore, th' hippogriffs have escaped again!" said Hagrid, bursting into the office. He was panting slightly, and it was evident that he had ran all the way here, "Could ye' help me round 'em up, it wis so much quicker wi' yer help last time."
"Of course Hagrid, I'll be right there. Harry, could you let yourself out? Have fun with your parents, and I don't want to hear you getting into anymore trouble," said Dumbledore, before rushing out the office with Hagrid.
Alone, Harry tried not to smirk. That was too easy, far too easy. Waving his wand, he couldn't detect any safeguards on the room against theft, and so gingerly made his way round the desk. His father had said it would be in the office, now he just had to figure out where, and the desk seemed a good enough place to start.
Rummaging through the files, and general clutter on his desk, Harry found nothing, instead moving to the drawers. All were open except one. Using some of the spells his father taught him, he opened the drawer with ease, sifting through everything before coming across a report. Its cover was blank, and pulling it out, Harry looked through it, seeing the names of members of the Order and their current position in a large table. It appeared to be self-updating, as Nymphadora Tonks went from being in Voldemort's study, to the dungeon. He never knew why his father had recruited her, the woman was a complete klutz. However, according to him having a metamorphmagus in their ranks was a good thing, and Harry had kept his mouth shut.
Quickly he made a duplicate of the report, placing the real one back in the drawer and locking it once more. Looking at his watch, he saw that it was almost lunchtime. He had promised Lily and James that he would be home by then, and so shrinking the duplicate report, he stuffed it in his pocket before heading out of the office.
"So, how's school son?" asked James, buttering a roll. Lily had made them potato and leak soup with the help of their house-elf Bitzy. Unlike the house-elves at Riddle Manor, this one was free to do as she wished, helping Lily with the chores instead of doing them all herself. It was a strange relationship, and almost reminded Harry of Hermione's attitude to house-elves, except not as severe. He couldn't deny though, the soup was good.
"Not too bad, Snape gave me a detention though," said Harry, knowing how this remark would go over.
"What did you do, give him shampoo? Sirius and I used to do that all the time at Hogwarts," laughed James.
"I may have criticised his teaching method," replied Harry, finishing the last of his soup. It had only been when he had walked in the kitchen and smelt the heavenly aroma that he had realised how hungry he was.
"That's my boy!" said James happily, ruffling Harry's hair. Lily looked at him disapprovingly, but stayed quiet, the amusement glittering in her eyes telling him all he needed to know.
"Harry, we've invited Ginny round for dinner, if that's alright with you. Molly told us that you seem to have grown close, and so we thought you would like it," said Lily hesitantly, unsure whether or not she had made the right call.
"Thank you, I do enjoy her company," said Harry, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. Next they would be planning a wedding.
"Up until then, what do you want to do?" asked James, swallowing the last of his soup.
"Well, I would quite like to take a walk by myself, to get acquainted more with this place, I hope you don't mind," lied Harry.
"Of course, if that is what you want to do then don't let us hold you back," said James, smiling slightly, "I'll call Sirius and Remus, we can have a few games before dinner."
"No drinking, James," warned Lily, "We all remember what happened last time."
"What happened?" asked Harry, grinning. James just grew even more uncomfortable with this line of questioning, and looked like he was trying to become one with the chair.
"He rode Sirius through the graveyard," said Lily, her lips twitching as she tried not to smile, "I have pictures."
"No, I refuse to let my son see me like that," said James, trying to get control of the situation.
"I'll show you them later," promised Lily, gathering up the dishes.
Harry took this moment to duck out, aware that James still had more to say on the matter. Moving through the garden, he took note of the neatly trimmed lawn, with privet hedge and white picket fence. It was a cosy front garden, and as he opened the gate, he saw a butterfly skim over the flowers, planted beneath the windows. From the outside, the Manor was small. James's grandparents were sick of the lavishness of their ancestors, instead opting to make the house appear to be a small cottage, disguising the multitude of rooms inside. Harry liked that idea. He felt that a Manor, or a castle was too ostentatious, but his father never agreed. To him it was a show of power, to Harry, it was to make others feel inadequate.
Walking down the small street, he soon saw the graveyard that Lily had mentioned. Inside lay a crumbling church, a remnant from times gone by, and weeping willows were planted around the perimeter, shielding the graves from the elements. He really wanted to see that picture, but right now he had more pressing things to do. When he thought he was far away enough from the house, he dissipated, appearing moments later outside Riddle Manor.
Unlike the Potter's house, the Manor was tall and imposing, and Harry felt like he had shrunk as he entered the aged building. Walking swiftly down the corridors, he came to Voldemort's study. Even if he never knew where it was it wouldn't have been hard to find. Harry could practically feel the wards pushing him away, and it was only when he showed his 'special' mark that they enveloped him, accepting him as one of their own.
Knocking, he waited a moment before the door opened by itself. Stepping inside, he saw his father was at his desk, surrounded by rolls of parchment. There was even a chair next to him filled with scrolls. Looking up, he saw his eyes darken in pleasure.
"Ah, Harry. Have you finished your mission so quickly?"
"Yes, father. Inside this file are the names and positions of all the members of the Order," said Harry, handing the folder to his father. Part of him couldn't help but compare this welcome to that of James and Lily's. They had asked how he was, hugged him like he was their son, instead here he was treated more like a servant. The contrast was unsettling.
"Good," hissed Voldemort, "You have done well my son."
"Thank you, father. Is there anything else you will require?"
"No, not at the moment. I will call you if anything comes up. Now, I need to continue with this, could you show yourself out?"
"Of course. Goodbye."
Closing the door behind him, Harry felt dread pool in his stomach.
Had he done the right thing?
Had his father always treated him that way? Perhaps it was only because he had something to compare it to that it bothered him now?
No matter, the past was the past, it was done, and as he made his way to the exit, he tried to ignore the guilt slowly seeping into his system.
A/N: Thank you for the feedback! Sorry for the late update, life got in the way again, but now I'm free of exams and school! Yay! I wanted to include some of Harry's observations on both sides in this chapter, show him warring with himself on who was right. To me it's only natural that he would be questioning things after seeing how different Voldemort's stories were to reality. I wanted to include Lily and James here, as I realised we haven't seen that much of them - we'll also be seeing more of the graveyard photo in the next chapter *evil grin* Also, did anyone think him getting the report was too easy...? Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it, and please take the time to review :)
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter.
I apologise for any spelling and/or grammar mistakes contained within this chapter.