Chapter fourteen: Lord Voldemort's heir
Harry's thought process seemed to overload. Voldemort a father? The girl in front of him, the daughter of the dark lord. Suddenly, he could see the resemblance between them, the dark hair, the slim build; she looked very similar to Tom Riddle before dark magic had twisted him into the snake-like monster he became. But still…
"You can't be," he blurted out, denying what he already knew to be true.
"You know I am Potter,' she said, and she was once again in control, all her tears, all her self-pity, had receded.
Suddenly Harry had another thought, "you mean Voldemort had…"
"Voldemort gained much in his resurrected body," Natasha explained. "But he also lost much. I was not conceived in the muggle fashion you wizards take such pleasure in. Magic formed me in the womb. I am the first of a new brand of human, an experiment."
"A failed experiment," said Harry.
"In fact, yes," she said, calmly. "Magic flows through my blood, forms my bones, holds me together, yet as magic encompasses me entirely, the dark lord neglected to give me the ability to access it.
"If there is one thing you know about Tom Riddle," she was pacing now, once again playing to the audience. "He disliked leaving things to chance. Hence the Horcruxes, his obsession with immortality. I was, I suppose you could say, a back door. I was taught to possess his goals, his views, his ambition. I could rule the Death Eaters if he was compromised, I have reason to believe he even considered commandeering my body, in replacement of the twisted creature he had become."
"But he didn't," Harry butted in. with all that Lestrange was, she did not seem exactly evil incarnate.
"Correct, he didn't," she continued. "The dark lord and my mother were both killed before I was a year old. Before the Battle of Hogwarts I was entrusted to a faction of Death Eaters stationed in Berlin. Their leader was a man you might know, his name was Vogol.
"After the dark lord's death, the Death Eater's went into hiding. I became their greatest hope, their ace in the hole. However, when I came of the age when wizarding children first manifest their abilities, there was no inclination of any magic whatsoever.
"Vogol wanted to dispose of me, thinking me useless. However, there were those within his ranks that disagreed with him, chief among them Antonin Dovchenko. Many disliked Vogol, believing him to be weak, insane, or simply full of dung. There was a falling out, and Dovchenko, with choice followers, stole me from harm's way, and went into hiding in Ukraine."
Harry realized that her story pretty much checked out. It would explain why Vogol had not been at the battle of Hogwarts, and why he had surfaced when he did. It also made sense that Death Eaters of Dovchenko's caliber would not be comfortable the diminutive Death Eater's schemes, which almost seemed to spell domination through humanitarianism.
"There I waited and watched. Maturing in strength and intelligence. Magical training did me no good, I taught myself to fight with the various muggle weapons worthy of my abilities, I've found they take much more discipline and application than use of a single wand. So I trained, and learned, waiting for the moment to strike.
"We are few, and would have no chance challenging the ministry of today. But with Akator, and the power of the crystal skull, we will have no need to. We will rule, in memory of those who died for our cause, a cause of world order through power. We will unlock the power, and the Death Eaters will rule a world of equality and progress. We will destroy the gap between magic and nonmagic. One world, one mind, one soul."
She finished, and the array of Death Eaters cheered again.
"But why are you following her," Harry shouted to them. "You heard her say it, she's filth. She can't do magic, she's nothing, just a sick symbol, why do you listen to her?"
Natasha Lestrange smiled, the same cold smile as Voldemort, as she spat his own words back in his face. "People tend to forgot that I'm human, not a god."
…
The convoy was a long and impressive affair. All the twenty-something vehicles were military issue, and state of the art, styled for jungle terrain. Still, as jungle terrain went, the Amazon was daunting indeed. That was where the cutter came in.
The aptly titled jungle cutter was Natasha's favorite vehicle in the convoy. It was a huge beast, painted a camouflage green, belching smoke through its exhaust. It was piloted by a single Death Eater, seated inside a small glass cabin, other wise she herself would have opted to ride on it. The cutter's main purpose was located at its front section. Two huge rotating serrated saw blades, shearing through the jungle flora and fauna alike, clearing a path for the rest of the convoy.
The rest of the convoy was hardly as imposing, comprised of a variety of trucks and jeeps. And ducks. The duck was not the sort of waterfowl one might expect, however. It was a small, gray vehicle, with a thick hull, and small wheels, along with a formidable machine gun mounted on the hood. While less suited to the jungle terrain than the rest of the convoy, the duck's whole purpose was to convert easily into a boat, making the river crossing a great deal easier.
Natasha herself sat in the backseat of an open-topped jeep, some halfway along the convoy. Beside her, whispering intently to himself, the madman, Neville Longbottom, along with a female Death Eater. Ahead of her, beside the Death Eater driver, Mundungus Fletcher. And in her lap, the crystal skull.
"Miss Lestrange," said the con man, twisting around to peer at the skull. "No disrespect intended, but is that thing really all it's cracked up to be, paranormal and the like. I mean, I love gold, and it's something I can believe in, but that hunk of rock a living thing?"
"I'm not sure living is the correct term,' she said, quetely. "But as for the skull's authenticity, just ask him," she nodded at Neville sitting next to her.
"That doesn't prove anything, I know a few stout drinks that'll do that to a man. What happens if…when we get to Akator, and there's nothing there?"
"Then I will take momentary satisfaction in slitting your throat."
Mundungus twisted back around, looking slightly green. The driver, she noticed, but back a smirk. Natasha looked down at the crystal skull, starred into its lopsided eye sockets. And saw nothing, save for the crystal catching the suns light. To her, to many, it appeared to be nothing, a 'dead hunk of rock'. They had so much in common.
With a sigh, Natasha replaced the skull in the brown cloth sack, placing it on the set beside her. She could feel, somehow, deep in her gut, that something would go wrong. She had to be ready. She already knew the source. It was imprisoned a few vehicles back.
Harry Potter, Ginny and James were located in the rear of a covered troop transport, near the end of the convoy. The back section was primarily empty, save for a few crates, and the three of them. Lying on the floor, bound hand and foot by black rope. And Antonin Dovchenko, who sat, legs apart, on one of the crates.
They had been traveling in silence for about two hours.
"Well," said Ginny, finally. "This is another fine mess you've gotten me into."
"I've gotten you?" Harry protested. "You were the one who got captured."
"Yeah, but you made it worse. You gave them all that stuff, and now we're outnumbered two hundred to three, tied up in the back of a muggle truck, on the way to some lost city I've barely even heard of."
"Life can be like that."
"Only with you," she groaned.
"Not only, you should spend some more time with Hermione."
"Shut up!" Dovchenko ordered, stomping on the floor.
"It doesn't matter," James protested, ignoring the Death Eater. "What matters is what she said before. We're outnumbered two hundred to three, tied up in the back of a muggle truck, on the way from some lost city I've barely heard of."
"Never tell me the odds," said Harry.
"Why," Ginny sneered, "Spoils your fun?"
"Makes it fun."
"You call this fun?"
"Take pleasure in your work."
"That's enough," Dovchenko got to his feet, fishing his wand from his pocket. He strode over the Ginny, intending to gag her first. But as he aimed his wand, he came into range.
Harry kicked out, slamming his heels into the back of Dovchenko's legs. The man fell to his knees with a grunt. James kicked up, knocking the wand out of Dovchenko's grip, as Harry kicked again, nailing the Death Eater in the back of the head. The wand fell onto Ginny, who clasped it between her bound wrists. There was a flash of red light, and Dovchenko was thrown onto his back, unconscious.
Ginny wasted no time in freeing herself, James and Harry. They glanced at Dovchenko, lying on the bed of the truck, groaning. "So, what?" asked James. "We drop out of the back of the truck and run away?"
Harry and Ginny shared a look. "Nah," they said together.
"We need to get the skull," said Harry.
"We need to get Neville," said Ginny.
"This is why you should never tell me the odds," Harry explained to James.
"So, what do you need us to do," asked Ginny, curious at how she figured in his plans.
Harry Potter shot her a charming smile, "Don't you know me? I'm making this up as I go along."