Disclaimer: There will be no foolish "I no own"s or silly overdone phrases in this class. As such, I don't expect many of you to appreciate the subtle science and the exact art that is disclaiming. However, for those select few who possess the predisposition, I can teach you how to dodge accusations and avoid prison; I can tell you how to negate rights, repect authors, and even put a stopper in suing...Then again, you should know by now that Harry Potter is not mine, if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach
A\N: Thanks a lot to everyone who reviewed\followed\faved! It means a lot to me. Anyway, JanKi22 wins a virtual cookie. Congratulations for guessing the disclaimer, it was indeed from Shakespear's Julius Caesar!
Chapter 4: in which the Death Eaters have fun, Harry draws and a nanny appears
When Narcissa had been asked to take care of Harry while the Dark Lord went negotiating with the werewolves, she had been a bit worried. Afterall, she had to take care of her own son too, and disobeying her Lord wasn't an option. Also, Nott had asked if he could leave his son Theo with her too.
Three were too much though, and lest she ruined her perfect manicure, Narcissa had called Bellatrix for help.
They had settled in Harry's room with some baby stuff for them to do, like crayons, some colored cubes, a pot of carnivorous Venomous Tentacula, and other harmless objects.
Harry happily ran to the venomous, purplish plant, tripping twice in the process, and hugged it.
The plant attacked him, grabbing him and lifting him up in the air. Harry waved his little arms and legs.
"Fun!" he declared with a giant smile. The plant seemed to think so too, because suddenly, shiny white teeth were visible through the foliage. Seeing this, and imagining it was a blast, Draco let himself be wrapped and lifted by the purple branches. He giggled loudly with Harry, apparently unrestrained by Malfoy composure.
Suddenly, the door burst open, and Macnair entered with his reading glasses on his face and an uber annoyed expression.
"What the rainbow is going on here? Someone's trying to wo- is that a Venomous Tentacula?"
He walked near it, examining its purple leaves. Then the vines grabbed his torso and lifted him in the air with Harry and Draco. Adult giggles added to the mix.
When the Tentacula tried to eat them, Macnair had reluctantly cast Reducto on it.
"Tch, plants are all the same," he scowled, brushing off bits of carnivorous plants from his robe. "You're having fun, playing together, and then they just have to eat you. I'll say, what immature behaviour!"
Some two hours later, the Dark Lord got home from his meeting in a dark mood. Damn werewolves were touchy. And loud. He just needed some peace and quiet-
A wave of noise reached his mistreated ears. A mix of baby laughter, adult bickering, baby bickering and adult laughter.
He hurried up the stairs and in Harry's room, from where all the noise originated. He burst into the room with a glare and his Monologue of Doom #3 ready. What he saw made him stop in his tracks.
The room's walls were mostly covered in toddler scrawls, but on a portion of it Bella was painting a rather disturbing picture of himself surrounded by little hearts. In the centre of the room, was a large purple plant which seemed to be strangling the remarkably expressionless Theodore Nott.
Yaxley and Macnair, in the meanwhile, were fighting.
"How could I have known that it regenerated itself stronger and bigger than before?!"
"It's common knowledge, nitwit, did you never go to school?"
As soon as he entered, everyone quieted, and even the plant put down Theo and embarassedly folded its branches like a child caught with his hands in the cookie jar.
As all eyes were on him, Voldemort opened his mouth. Then he closed it again. None of his pre-packed Monologues of Doom was tailored for this situation.
In the end he settled for, "This is not a daycare center!" and stormed out.
When the Dark Lord tried to storm out in a rage, Harry grabbed the hem of his robe with an angelic smile. Voldemort internally grumbled. Be it killing him or storming out, the kid was always ruining his plans.
Harry held up a folded piece of paper with his tiny fist, waiting for Voldemort to accept it.
A tense silence spread in the room, everyone following the scene attentively. Even the Venomous Tentacula seemed to be watching interestedly.
Finally, the Dark Lord accepted the gift. It was such a private and moving moment, that Rookwood whispered, "Should we, you know, leave them alone?"
"No way," replied Macnair, seemingly confused as to why he would even think of doing that. "I'm not going to miss this!"
Voldemort unfolded the paper to reveal a crayon drawing. It depicted a red-eyed white blob, which he interpreted as himself, surrounded by corpses and soaked in a pool of blood.
It was adorable.
He awkwardly patted him on the head. The Death Eaters 'awww'd like a bunch of grannies.
"Lucius, old friend, I find myself in need of your advice"
"Indeed, my Lord? How may I be of service?"
"Is there a particular way of dealing with children's drawings? Am I required to keep it, frame it, burn it, throw it away?"
"Well, my Lord, the usual protocol is keeping it in your pocket for about two weeks, to show him that you value the drawing"
"Oh?"
"Yes, My Lord. And then you hide it, and after ten years you show it to Harry and make fun of him"
"And you follow this protocol?"
"Of course my Lord...actually, I should have one in my pocket right now...ah, here it is. Draco made it last week"
"Is that a...sunflower field? Well, he really is your son...really, flowers, of all things"
"Thank you my Lord"
"That wasn't a compliment"
They had to go and terrorize the citizens of the magical world, and Voldemort had decided to leave Harry home. They needed everyone there to make an impression and cement their power through fear, but he wasn't comfortable at all leaving Harry alone.
So he had done the sensible thing. He'd called a nanny.
"Alright, I expect everything to be in order when I get back, am I clear?"
A grunt was his only answer.
"If something happens to Harry, and therefore to my piece of soul, I will personally mash you, grind you and eat you with potatoes and champagne. Again, am I perfectly clear?"
Another grunt. He kind of liked it. No useless chatter, no talk, no disobedience...
"Then, I leave everything in your hands"
Grunt.
...Yup, an apron-clad half-rotten, decaying Inferius was definitely the best choice.
They had finally found Dumbledore's Headquarter. It hadn't been simple, and the Death Eaters seemed to be taking revenge for the effort by being even more violent than usual. Mulciber's eyes shone with a decidedly crazy glint as he ripped through Order members like scissors on paper. Everyone, even her allies, stayed out of Bellatrix' way, for she twisted and slashed her wand seemingly at random places, severing limbs, setting fire to people, and filling the air with a high, mock-child laugh that made everyone's blood curdle.
Elphias Doge, who had escaped from Rookwood's tender mercies multiple times, was now battling it out with the irate Death Eater, and had already lost a pinkie. A little to the side, Dolohov and Macnair cast Dark curses with blood-thirsty expressions, maiming and killing like there was no tomorrow.
Meanwhile, Dumbledore was facing Voldemort. The old man wore a grave expression, sad lines wrinkled his brow, yet only determination twisted his mouth.
"It was foolish to come here tonight, Tom," said Dumbledore calmly. "We both know who will triumph in the end–"
"You say that when you're hiding like a coward?" spat Voldemort. He sent a killing curse at Dumbledore, but missed. The old wizard responded by sending a whip of fire at the Dark Lord, but he deflected it. All the same, the movement caused a piece of paper to fall from his pocket.
Somehow, for a strange combination of circumstances, the paper unfolded, showing the unmistakable strokes of a child.
The Death Eaters stilled, unsure of what to do, while their enemies, mouths agape, were visibly trying to connect 'child' and 'Voldemort' and not coming up with anything.
Voldemort, his face unreadable, accio'd the paper in a heartbeat and sank it again into his pocket.
He coughed. "You say that when you're hiding like a coward?" he repeated, as if nothing had happened.
"Tom," Dumbledore warned. "What was that piece of paper?"
"Me? Piece of paper? What piece of paper?" he croaked, feeling like school all over again. 'Me? Killing muggleborns? Who's killing muggleborns?'...
"Tom–"
"Leaving!"
"Well?" asked Voldemort to his Inferius nanny. "Did you do everything I asked? Are Harry and my soul alright?"
The Inferius nodded very slowly and even more slowly pointed to Harry, who was using Nagini as a jump rope. The snake was taking it rather well, everything considered, except for a very collected hiss of "Master, I can't go on much longer"
"You, Inferius, take Nagini away from the brat"
It did, very very slowly, start to walk toward Harry, and by the time it had reached the child, Voldemort was on his fourth cup of tea.
When Nagini had been freed, Voldemort had wondered aloud.
"I can't call you 'Inferius' forever. I need a name for you..."
"Bob!" exclaimed Harry, hugging the Inferius' leg. The Dark Lord twitched.
"Bob? That is an insultingly muggle name and I will not stand for it. I was thinking more along the lines of Veridantus Turcinus Partientius–"
"Bob!"
"I see...so it's like that" Suddenly, his red eyes glinted dangerously.
"I will accept that hideous name" he declared. "But compromise is a two-way course. You know what that means? That you must now do something in exchange, and that is to never, ever, call me–"
"Daddy!"
"..."