Visitor 38
So, last update in a while, as I'll be going on holiday in one and a half week, and I don't think I can finish a chapter before that time! I will have time to write though, but no internet... so I can only upload what I'll write around the 5th of august when I'll hopefully have internet again... But as I'll go to my gf, who is moving, it might also take a while for internet to be set up there... Sorry for the inconvenience!
I hope that you will all like this chapter.
Bèta'd for once, by my lovely gf :P
Everyone was silent for a while, the clammy air hanging thick in-between them, before Molly Weasley seemed determined to make everything break and crash in the matter of a few seconds.
"Harry betrayed us. I accepted him as a son, Dumbledore treated him as a grandfather and took care of him, and he just turned his back on all of us. I will never believe anything good about that boy ever again."
"Mother," one of the Twins whispered, jaw clenched and expression twisted, distorted.
"You're wrong."
"He may have been led astray," she continued, "But I've seen him do things on that battlefield, horrible things. He can't be saved any more so please boys, please turn away from him. And you, Sirius, save them!"
The man closed his eyes and exhaled softly, breath shuddering. He knew what the retribution for this would be for them. The only reason they were still alive was because Harry thought it might have been possible to save them from Dumbledore.
"Don't you dare breathe a bad word about my godson," he replied, his only reply before he turned around and walked away, not even very surprised when two pair of footsteps started to follow him. Fred and George would never give this up. They felt at home here, accepted, and somehow, Sirius could understand. At the Light, their dreams had never been taken serious, and they'd had to fight tooth and nail to stick to what they craved, illegally obtain materials because they were not allowed to get them otherwise. And from what he'd heard, the moment they'd joined the Dark their business had been funded and bloomed, their inventions enthusiastically discussed by members of all ranks. No, they would never give that up.
The cries of their mother echoed through the tunnels for a while before falling silent, and it was in that moment that one of them asked the other, with a tinge of hope in his voice: "And?"
For once, there was no immediate reply, and Sirius realised that this was one of the few times he'd heard them speak to each other.
"I think Dumbledore trusted them to stick to him enough to think he wouldn't need spells. There was nothing to be found. No compulsion spells, no memory blocks, nothing."
Sirius nodded to himself, solemn, feeling for the two boys, looking over his shoulder to see them pull each other close to give and receive a bit of comfort. He really wished there was something he could do, but setting Molly and Arthur free was a bad idea. That wouldn't exactly get him in Voldemort's good graces, and while he would love to protect the Weasleys from harm, he had to think of Harry above all. And from what Molly had just said, he would be setting free Harry's enemies if he would help free the Weasleys. It was a painful choice to make.
Suddenly, rushing footsteps were to be heard from behind them, and they turned around to find a wide-eyed, bewildered Arthur standing in the corridor, looking hopelessly lost.
"Dad? What..?" the Twins asked, hurrying to his side, plucking the small wires from his body.
"I don't know… I… I don't agree with your mother... and I told her that, and suddenly a force pushed me through the bars and into the corridor."
"You don't agree?"
"I always considered Harry as family… and the kid has never done anything if he didn't think it was the right thing to do. And Ginny… he saved the life of my daughter. Molly may have conveniently forgotten it, but I have not. And boys… I really am proud of you that you didn't let anyone tell you what to do and what not…" His breath suddenly caught, and to Sirius' horror, Arthur began to cry. "But I also love Molly… what will happen to her? Honestly? If she won't come around?"
"The Dark Lord does not forgive those who speak bad about Harry. Even the life of any Death Eater is forsaken the moment they attack Harry in one way or another."
"That boy always had a massive impact everywhere he went…" the man said, his voice sounding constricted as he tried to control himself and gathered as much dignity again as he could. "Sirius, did you really mean it, when you said You-Know-Who isn't who he was before? If even you, who hated everything he was can defend him…"
"Defend him? Voldemort? I think you misunderstood me Arthur, I hate his guts and think he should be put in Azkaban and Kissed for every single one of his crimes, but sadly that isn't a reality. I am conflicted. I want Harry out of the range of that man, but at the same time I know Harry would rather die than leave by now, and I must admit that from what I have seen, there have been made a lot of changes indeed. The Dark stands for freedom and equality now, instead of terror, and many seem willing to forgive Voldemort's past actions as he's the only one who can fix the world now. It's a crap situation to be in, but for once, he is the lesser of evils. Dumbledore wants power, and to hide every magician away so he can control that community. The Ministry is in chaos but will keep their old, traditional values…" Sirius suddenly halted, a shiver running down his spine when he noticed what he was doing, what he was saying. Had he really just said that the Dark was the best option to join? Had he, Sirius Black, who had claimed to stay neutral over and over again, even to Voldemort's face, just defended the man's views and goals?
"Welcome to the Dark, Snuffles," one of the Twins joked.
"We hope you'll have a nice stay,"
"And a funky ride."
Sirius groaned, burying his head in his hands. "When did it ever come to this?" he muttered, briefly meeting Arthur's eyes, the man looking just as lost as he felt.
Impatiently tapping his wand against his shin, Harry sat in the chair in front of Marvolo's desk, pondering on his conversation with Yaxley. It had been… incredibly interesting. He had finally been informed of all the little details and loopholes in important laws, and gotten an overview of how Wizarding Law actually worked. The strangest thing with it was that new laws could be written that completely contradicted another one, but other than overwriting it, it could very well be that the old law wouldn't be erased at all, thus making something legal and illegal at the same time. It was a righteous mess, and apparently had been ever since Dumbledore and the Ministry had tried to 'fix' what Marvolo had left behind after dying the first time.
He now also understood the whole confusing mess in his third year when he'd been let off so easily after blowing up Aunt Marge, even though in his second year he'd gotten an official warning that he would be expelled next time he performed under-age magic. Rules had been sharpened over time, but Fudge, being Minister, had needed Harry to like him the second time, and just leafed back in the Law book until he'd gotten to the, still perfectly valid, laws from the time when the legal age for wizards to practise magic had been thirteen instead of seventeen. –which had surprised Harry at first, before Yaxley had explained that it was only logical as magicians only reached the age of eighty to ninety back in those days, still living quite some decades longer than Muggles.
He sighed. While it had been very interesting and he was glad he had been informed, it had been a very long sit, which made him wonder why Marvolo wasn't here yet. The meeting was bound to be finished already. He got up and started to pace, before he suddenly stopped and slapped the palm of his hand against his face.
"I must be overworked or something…" he muttered. "Merlin." He laughed softly at his own stupidity and sat down again, searching in his mind for the link. It had been closed for too long yet again, and while it was oddly relieving to have some more privacy, he also missed the constant stream of thoughts in his head.
It didn't take long before he got a reaction, in the form of curiosity and a slight nudge against his mind.
Marvolo?
Harry? Is something wrong, love?
Just wondering where you are… Are the Muggles taking that long?
Ah, no, I believe they've all gone. I'm currently speaking with the Twins and their father.
Mr Weasley? Did their parents come around then?
One of them. It seems Molly Weasley thinks you've corrupted her family. Arthur isn't quite that bigoted, although I've still kept the magic-repressing threads on him just in case it's a ploy. Not that I expect it to be… Otherwise the bars wouldn't have let him through, but you can never be cautious enough…
Paranoid you mean, Harry threw back, amused. He could almost feel the glare in his head.
Cautious, Marvolo hissed. Anyway, I am almost done here. I'll leave the rest to the Twins. They are capable enough of keeping their father under control for a while.
Their father in their joke shop. Now that's something I'd wish to see. What will happen to Mrs Weasley?
You know what will happen to her Harry, don't act like you're ignorant. I gave them a chance to save their parents, they saved one even though they were prepared to give up both of them. She will not come around, and once I have extracted useful information from her mind, she will be useless to us all.
Harry sighed. He should have expected it really. It wasn't exactly a shocking revelation. Still, he felt for Mrs Weasley, even though he didn't quite understand her hostility. She had treated him like a son, and while he'd never looked at her as a mother, it did sting that she suddenly placed blame on him for her children choosing their own path. And yes, Harry had helped, but the Twins had actually come to him to convince him that Dumbledore was a bad influence, not the other way around. Then again, she probably wouldn't know that, unless they had told her…
He exhaled again, not feeling much for bothering himself with the whole matter of Mrs Weasley. If she didn't see him as family any more, then he didn't care much any more either. He would like to speak to Mr Weasley though, but preferred to wait until the man had settled and had been updated about the on goings in the Dark.
Harry shivered when he felt Marvolo's presence approaching him, the pressure on his mind becoming heavier, though not uncomfortably so. It felt as if a warm blanket was being put around him, wrapping him in, keeping him safe, whenever his lover was around. He smiled and looked up even before the door opened and the tall form of the man entered the room, his stance regal without him even actively trying to.
"Hello love," Harry said, getting out of the chair to embrace the other, his hug fiercely returned. The teen rubbed his chest against the robe that covered his fiancé's chest, a hand travelling up the all-too familiar path from the waistline up his chest, slipping beneath the fabric. Harry whined when his wrist was caught and pulled away, only to be raised to Marvolo's lips.
"No sex yet, love," the man said, amused.
"Since when are you against having random sex?" Harry sighed, displeased.
"The word 'yet' has an undetermined time span before the inescapable will happen darling, I merely wanted to wait a while. I believe you were waiting for me so anxiously for another reason than to have sex."
"You looked into my mind again!" Harry exclaimed accusingly.
"Not very difficult when we share one and you practically force your thoughts upon me. But don't worry, I do not yet know what your present is, only that you have one for me, which, I must say, was completely unnecessary." Harry sighed. He should have known he couldn't keep a secret from the man he shared a mind with. He was glad that Marvolo had at least had the courtesy to not look further. Harry tried very hard now to not let thoughts of his present surface, and managed to erect some barriers around the images of it, amusing the man to no end. "So determined to not let me know what it is until the last moment?"
Harry shook his head, smiling slightly before he took Marvolo's hand and dragged him with him to the bedroom, as he'd hid the parcel in the drawer of his night-stand. He bit his lip after he'd taken it out of the stand and turned around. "You're not angry?" he asked with a small voice, relieved when the man shook his head and took a step closer.
"Why would I be? We both know I didn't want to celebrate this day, but you didn't exactly go against my wishes by making something grand out of it. I'd be happy to accept this, whatever it might be that you want to give me."
Harry smiled as he saw the genuine warmth in those red eyes, eyes he could now fully see the same emotions in as before they had completely bled to the dark crimson they were now. It only made him feel better about the gift he was about to give. Marvolo carefully took it from him and unwrapped it, Harry watching with rapture as long, elegant fingers finally did a task like this without magic, working quickly on undoing the wrappings, but still without rushing it. Finally, the paper fell away, only to reveal more paper, not the wrapping this time.
Harry nervously swayed from side to side as Marvolo studied the sketches, from the first rough lines he'd drawn years ago when trying to give shape to his nightmares about the cloaked man with the red burning eyes who had haunted his dreams, to the gentler, more detailed sketches from when he'd actually known the man. Marvolo flipped through studies of his own hands and eyes, and gradually came to the last sketches, on which the rougher, scaled texture of his new skin was clearly visible, Harry's attempts to give the man's new looks a place in his mind to accept them.
"Harry… I…" Marvolo started, but his voice broke, and he kept silent, slightly turning his head away from Harry. The teen looked down to the floor quickly, pretending to not have noticed the glistening in the man's eyes, but it was futile, as the onslaught of emotions that crashed through their link had him near gasping for breath.
Wordlessly, he embraced his lover, and Marvolo carefully placed the drawings on his own night-stand before hugging Harry fully, pulling the teen tightly against him, the seemingly frail arms holding a surprising amount of strength.
"I love you," Harry muttered, placing his lips on the side of Marvolo's nape. "Happy B… New Year," he whispered, correcting himself mid-sentence.
The man didn't reply, didn't need to reply, for the return of the sentiment was clear in his every action, in the crushing of those arms that clung to him as if afraid Harry would disappear if he would do so much as breathe. He blinked his own tears away when feeling the wetness slide down his shoulder, merely holding onto this man, wondering how things had come to be this way, how he could have reduced the most powerful, feared man in the world to tears by no more than some pencil and charcoal on paper.
He should have expected it when Marvolo suddenly turned around and pressed him against the bed, lips frantically searching his, a tongue forcefully claiming his mouth. Harry didn't protest, and let himself melt into the kiss and the touches his lover bestowed upon his body, hands mapping every inch of skin that was revealed as Marvolo undid Harry's robes.
"So…" he gasped in a moment the man's lips were some-place else, "is the 'yet' over?"
His only reply was an animalistic growl and teeth that nipped at his neck. Harry laughed and rolled over so he lay on his stomach, groaning softly as hands cupped and rubbed the cheeks of his arse. He could never decide what he loved more, the foreplay, the actual sex or the cuddling and gentle, slow kisses in the afterglow. Shivering in anticipation, he lifted his now revealed arse, swallowing heavily when a thin, cold tongue was dragged over the skin.
Fingers travelled over his arched spine and neck, and his lover's hands seemed to be everywhere at once, stroking his inner thighs to make Harry spread wider, grabbing his hair to pull his head backwards, arms encircling his waist as the man lay down on him and –wait, since when was Marvolo naked as well?- prodded his back –too soon, too much, he wasn't even prepared yet!- and pressed his cock demandingly against the tight ring of muscles, which protested against being pushed apart without so much as lube to ease the intrusion.
Harry cried out and tried to wriggle free, panting heavily when he felt Marvolo's feelings shift from all-consuming passion to realisation and a slight tinge of guilt. He sagged back in the pillows, breath turning to normal again when the weight was lifted from his back and now oily fingers touched his behind. "Apologies," Marvolo muttered. "I didn't realise…" Harry waved it away, glad that the man had kept himself in check before hurting him. "Face me?" the man nearly pleaded, and the teen did so, turning around, spreading his legs instantly again, now eyeing the fingers as they were brought down to prepare him.
He closed his eyes after a few moments of watching the graceful movements, instead concentrating of the feel of slick fingers that moved inside of him. He took deep breaths, trying to keep some amount of control, but he noticed his toes were already curling in pleasure, and a soft moan befell from his lips as the fingers curled slightly. He winced a few times when his lover slowly added a third finger and started stretching him, but he did not complain and hitched his hips, meeting Marvolo's thrusts until his legs felt weak.
He loved this, absolutely loved the intimate feeling sex brought, to have the love they shared expressed through physical means. It hadn't been like this at the start, and while he couldn't say that he regretted jumping into their relationship so quickly, he sometimes wondered how things would have turned out if he had not given in until after he was absolutely certain of his love for this man, instead of going on adrenaline and a crush that had been born out of the attention he had received after starving for love all of his life. Would his first time have been less awkwardness and more… more like this? Or would it have been clumsy on his side either way due to inexperience?
His line of thoughts was cut off again together with his oxygen supply as near non-existent lips pressed against his mouth again, the forked, thin tongue winding itself around Harry's while the fingers were replaced by Marvolo's length, the pain from before only a dull aching after the thorough preparation. Their breaths mingled as Harry sighed into the other's mouth. He wrapped his arms tightly around the man's neck, pulling them together as Marvolo picked up the pace, starting out slowly but quickly building tempo. Harry suddenly hoped that this moment would never end, that the rest of his life would just be one constant stream of Marvolo's love, but he could already feel himself climbing to his climax as his own cock was no longer neglected but rubbed by skilled hands that made him fall apart with each movement.
He cried out his love's name, though the cry was muffled by the mouth that was still pressed tightly to his, swallowing his every sound, and he shook heavily as he came, soiling their skin with his seed. The man came soon after him, grunting as he released his own juices inside of the teen, warming him from inside, the sticky sensation still slightly odd to him, even after months of having sex. Harry didn't move –couldn't move- as Marvolo pulled out and lay beside him, pulling the other in his arms so Harry lied half atop of the man's chest.
"Happy New Year to you too," Marvolo muttered softly, placing a kiss against Harry's sweaty brow. The teen smiled into his lover's chest and snuggled up to him, still drowsy, cooling himself at the other's ever cold skin, lovingly tracing the longest patch of scales, which went from Marvolo's navel down to the base of his cock in a nearly mocking imitation of the hair that should have grown there. He dropped a kiss onto the chest and embraced the other even firmer before nodding off.
"Surprising location." The man commented, his hawk-like eyes piercing through the darkness, just able to make out the cloaked shape of a woman, who stood so unmoving that only the small puffs of breath that were visible in the cold air ensured him she was breathing.
"I admit to being unaware of that it was even possible for you to be here."
The woman turned, though she did not shrug off her hood. "It is even more surprising to hear you admit to being unaware of anything. So there are things that escape your almighty Wizarding senses, oh mighty one" the woman sarcastically replied.
Eyolf gave her a withering glare, not feeling up to bantering with one of such a low rank, protector of his former pupil or not. "You called for this meeting." He stated, his voice hinting towards his curiosity.
The woman approached him cautiously and lifted her head, strands of dirty blonde hair falling from beneath the hood. "Shade. Shay for short," she said curtly. It wasn't an answer to the unspoken question that always preceded the conversation between two people from the world in which given names were rarely, if ever, acknowledged.
"Eyolf," the man brusquely replied, while he nodded his head at her. The air in between them was tense, strained as the conversation that was to come. He was well aware of the massive figurative chasm between the two of them, and even though she had invited him here, on Wizarding territory, as if she was equal to him, both knew with rock-steady certainty that their ranks and abilities were further apart than those of the Dark Lord and his lowest followers.
Shay did not nod to him, or give any other indication of recognition, which irritated him to no end. Who did she think she was, to treat him like this, as if she was not only his equal, but his superior? "I understood that you recommended me to Lord Voldemort?" she asked, her voice as chilly as the air around them. He did not give deny it or agree, simply awaiting her next words. "I wish for more information about Harry Potter. Anything I should know about him that could help or hinder protecting him?"
Eyolf released an irritated sigh, this time not directed at her, but thoughts of the boy. "Well, trying to teach him anything is an absolute don't. He's stubborn-headed, his mood swings all ways every few seconds and he's trying to keep his sense of judgement while still blindly devoted to the Dark Lord, ready to do anything and everything for the man. And yet, Potter is strangely… well I don't quite know how to put him into words. He is irritating, oddly alluring and very dangerous all at once."
"Alluring?"
"Might not have been the best word, but he calls to you… sometimes in pity, sometimes in awe. I got the strange urge to both throw him out of the room and to sit him down and talk to him at the same time."
"And the dangerous part?"
"Other than that he is protected by the most dangerous man on this earth, who will have your head if you do as much as displease Potter, the boy himself is a force to be reckoned with as well. His magic can sometimes lash out. It's violent and sometimes beyond his own control. Then there is the fact that he cares about a lot of people who are from the other side, even though I believe he convinced most of them to join him… But there are bound to be others, people he will not attack full out because he wants to give them a chance… He's a danger to himself."
The woman groaned quietly at hearing Eyolf's last words. "Still, hopefully I will not have to deal with him when he's fighting Wizarding enemies…"
"I wouldn't be too sure about it. Even if that's not what you've been hired for, once Potter gets an idea into his head, he'll run off without thinking."
"You don't like him very much, do you?"
"He's difficult to deal with," the man replied with a gruff voice. Shay's expression didn't change, just casually let her eyes travel over his form, her eyes cold.
"Perhaps you were the difficult one,' she commented, making him narrow his eyes at her.
"And what made you come to that conclusion exactly?" Eyolf replied.
"Thank you, I've heard everything I needed to know." The woman lifted her hood again over her face and turned around, completely disregarding his question. Eyolf's eyes flashed and the earth beneath the woman's feet tried to wrap around her ankles. She laughed and jumped away, a crazed grin on her face as she turned around.
"Oh please, were you not the one who recommended me? Did you honestly think I would fall for such a cheap trick? Do you not remember your own last Muggle hunt?" she spat the words out, and Eyolf took a step back, taking care to not show weakness by touching the scar on his shoulder that never healed, the one and only time one of the Muggles had turned around and fought instead of ran. He'd never known her name, and he'd never seen the little Muggle girl again, with her storm-grey eyes and short hair, caked with filth. He knew who she had grown out to be now, the girl who'd torn the flesh of his shoulder with her teeth, and who had stood her ground even as he had tried to cut her hand off with magic. His eyes briefly flicked towards that same hand, noticing that one of the fingers was a mere stump.
"Oh, I see you remember now," she sneered, spreading her hand for him to get a good look at it. "Muggle hunts… the necessary evil to keep the Guild pure and entertain young magicians at the same time? I bet you weren't amused when you failed to kill me and got in the Infirmary as well."
"You know very well what the purpose for those hunts are!" he bit back. "To train the strong and eliminate the weak… To harden the willpower and increase the skills so Muggle assassins can compete with magical ones…"
"The dead need not increase their skills," she whispered, her eyes filled with hate before she walked away again without another word. Eyolf released a shuddering breath, hands balling into fists, magic thrumming around his hands, his feet and legs shifting minimally, preparing to sprint. He could already see the path he would take, the exact steps and movements. He predicted her reaction and the manoeuvre to dodge it and blast her heart out of her ribcage, a move that had made him famous and feared, but at the last moment, he suddenly remembered that for once, they served the same man.
He exhaled slowly and let his magic retreat, although his eyes weren't any less piercing as he stared at her retreating form. He growled when drops of rain suddenly started to splatter on his clothes, and he brusquely turned away, casting spells that would hide his footsteps and would let him move unnoticed on his way back to the castle.
"Up already?" Harry asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and yawning. He had been very dissatisfied when waking up and seeing his lover nowhere in sight.
"Work," Marvolo replied curtly, his brow creased as he flipped through a stack of parchment. "I really need to get on schedule with the upcoming elections, love. Our side doesn't even have a list of possible candidates yet, and it was some time ago since I eliminated Fudge.
"I thought you preferred to put Lucius in that position?"
"Yes, yes I do, but there is a problem with that. I also want Lucius on the position he currently has… As you know, he's been gathering information about the possibilities of the usage of magic and Muggle artefacts… And yes, I know I could easily put someone else on there, but my point is that this is mending the feud between the Malfoys and Weasleys. Before, I considered getting him off the job, but now Arthur Weasley is also at the shop of the Twins, it would be very good to show that even two families who used to hate each other are setting aside their differences for the sake of peace and change."
"On the other hand, I don't think Arthur knows about the Twins' ties with Lucius… he might object, those men absolutely loathe each other, and frankly, I can't blame Mr Weasley for that. Lucius may be nice to me now, but he's an absolute ass to anyone he thinks beneath him."
"Well, he has every right to," Marvolo growled. "Weasley is beneath him. Filthy blood-traitor…"
Harry groaned and rubbed his forehead. "If you're going to spout blood-purity again, please remember your own line, yes? Or mine. I don't see you condoning Pure-bloods ordering us around."
Marvolo glared at him, but kept silent, hypocrite that he was…
"Back to the matter at hand, I'm still in two minds about what would be the best solution…"
"Are there any other good candidates?"
"Not many… I do want it to be one of my Inner Circle, to make it abundantly clear where their loyalties lie… But it can't be anyone with a criminal record, and he or she will need to have enough contacts in the Ministry and current power to be considered a worthy candidate…"
"Is it really a good idea to pick one of your Inner Circle…? As far as I know, the Dark is still a minority…"
"And yet, we have enough support. Don't forget that voting is anonymous, and many people have not joined us because they're afraid of what their family and friends would say if they knew they were dark… From what Tonks told me, even some of the Order think we have good ideas… By clearly stating that the candidate is Dark, all dark supporters will vote for that person. If you leave it in the middle, their votes might go out to candidates who placed themselves in the competition, and were not placed there by Dumbledore or me."
"When you say 'he or she' though, I assume you mean 'he'. Both women in the Inner Circle died… Not that I would have liked to have either Bellatrix or Alecto on the throne…"
"It's a shame so few women want to fight… or are allowed to fight," Marvolo sighed. "But I would lose many of my followers if I suddenly started fighting ancient traditions, especially because I don't even know the women's own opinions on the matter. For all I know, they like being holed up."
"I highly doubt it," Harry frowned. "But yeah, you can't go making assumptions, I suppose, and Narcissa, for one, seemed happy enough. I must say that I don't really know a lot about women's rights in the magical world… nor the Muggle, really."
"Women have always had more rights here than in the Muggle world… Right to vote, right to divorce, all of it was established long before Muggles created those same laws for women. However, in pure-blood society, the ancient families, people usually stick to older laws, which limit these rights again."
"And as old laws are not overwritten when a new law is made, it's perfectly legal…" Harry sighed. "I understand."
"It won't be legal for much longer though," Marvolo said. "I plan to completely revise the law book, and make contradicting laws invalid. That will, however, have to be discussed with, for example, the Wizengamot, and also the Muggle government as we will mainly live under their laws and within their society."
"I thought you planned to implement our laws on Muggle society as well?"
"Some of them, not all, but regarding equality rights, I will try to implement them in Muggle society if they haven't already, yes. There are some of their laws, however, that have no link to magicians, and will remain unchanged and only applicable to Muggles."
"Back to election candidates though… Your requirements are pretty specific, and the only ones who meet them all are Lucius and... Yaxley I think."
"Yes, I know… I also know that Yaxley is quite happy where he is right now though… I will have to speak with them both to see what is best to do."
"Are there already rumours about other candidates?"
"No, but I can't imagine Dumbledore putting anyone else than Kingsley forwards, he's liked by the public, an Auror and has a clean record. And then there's Scrimgeour, the current head of the Auror Office… I can imagine him taking this opportunity to rise up in the ranks. As far as I know, he doesn't like Dumbledore, but he is firmly against Dark magic as well, and hunted down quite a few of my followers. He's a hardened war veteran and could have been part of the Ef's, but he did not feel anything for being part of a subgroup that stood under direct command of Fudge… or so he thought"
"Speaking of the Ef's… no possible candidates there? If only to pull away votes from Kingsley or Scrimgeour? As their loyalties aren't well known, people voting 'Neutral' will be more likely to go for Scrimgeour, but if all people who want to vote neutral do so, that man may get the majority of votes…"
"Good idea," Marvolo said, surprised at the insight Harry was showing. "However, I need the Ef's for special missions, but I can put someone else forward who does not have clear ties with the Dark, but works in the Ministry."
"I wonder what would happen if you elected yourself," Harry smirked, and Marvolo shook his head.
"Not a good idea. I need a spokesperson… I don't think it'll be a good idea for me to mingle in politics myself. I'd end up killing too many…"
Harry laughed, able to imagine it far too well, and he moved until he sat on Marvolo's lap, snuggling against the man's chest. "Yeah, not a good idea…" he grinned, pecking the man on the lips. And of course, someone used that perfect 'start of sex' moment, to barge in.
"Black!" Marvolo spat, his eyes flashing dangerously. "What is it now!"
Sirius yelped and averted his eyes, dramatically outstretching his hands and turning his head away. "Am I nowhere safe!" Harry's godfather exclaimed.
"Not if you intrude in my study room," Marvolo hissed, not in the mood to feel amused about Sirius' antics. Harry, though, suddenly perked up, his expression one of enlightenment.
"Love... love, I believe I suddenly have the perfect idea!"
"That can't bring a lot of good," Marvolo dryly commented, but he was ignored by Harry. "What is it?"
"How does 'Sirius Black, Minister of Magic', sound?"
Both men seemed to choke on air, Marvolo's rich laughter filling the room while Sirius seemed to need a spell to regain his breath.
"Black? Minister? When exactly did you hit your head?"
"Not funny, I'm serious," Harry frowned, earning him two incredulous looks. "Come on, can neither of you see the merits of this?"
Marvolo narrowed his eyes, and, seeing Harry indeed was serious, sank into thought, his fingers slowly tapping on the arm rest of his chair.
"You can't be considering this," Sirius said, grimacing. "I mean, honestly, me as Minister of Magic? Do remember I'm still a convicted criminal…"
"Do remember we have Wormtail, and the Order would be only too happy to have you as a free man. Your 'prisoner status' has lost its benefit to Dumbledore… The Order trusts you still, as they don't know you are here, and the Dark knows that you are on our side now…"
"Well, then they know more than I do, because, as I stated quite a few times before, I. Won't. Work. For you."
"Once your name is cleared, if you put yourself forward," Harry commented, "There is a chance that both the Order will vote for you, the Neutral people as they don't know about your ties to either the Order and the dark, only that you used to be a top Auror, survived Azkaban while you were innocent and managed to not fall into the hands of those who wanted to send you back there. And then there is the Dark, and everyone knows you are here now…"
"Not the supporters," Marvolo frowned.
"But all dark supporters have a subscription to the Quibbler, which is still a banned magazine, and sent to subscribers, in disguise. Moreover, Rodolphus checked everyone who did subscribe to the magazine, and as far as he found, the Order rejected it since it had 'gone dark', and everyone in the Ministry who isn't sure about what side to pick is too afraid to be found with it in their homes."
"Some of the Order are still bound to have it…" Sirius threw in. "They use it to keep track of what news the dark is spreading. You aren't the only one with infiltrators… Some people on the 'Dark' are spies for the Order. And then there is still the fact that I am not interested in politics, and that I'm not on your side… How many times will I need to repeat that last bit?"
"Clearly more than once, especially after what you told the Twins and Arthur Weasley earlier. It's no use telling me that you don't want to join me when you defend my side to others…" Sirius groaned. "And furthermore, you not being interested in politics doesn't mean that you wouldn't be able to take the position. Granted, you will need advisers, but in the end you'll just do what I tell you to anyway And in your own way, you'll be able to de-corrupt the Ministry. You do have all necessary knowledge of how everything works, I presume."
"Yes," Sirius grudgingly admitted. "I had to learn when I was a child and teen. That was, however, quite some years ago."
"The Wizarding world hardly changed since then."
"I'll need to think on this."
"Understandable. But don't forget that this way, you can not only manipulate the Ministry, but also Dumbledore and, quite possibly, me. You will hold much power, Black… And if you think a law is unjust, you have the power to scrap or adapt it… Everything that goes on in the Ministry will need to be approved by you and answer to you… You can get back on everyone who wronged you… And with the laws I want established, you'll go down in history as the greatest Minister of all times…"
Sirius gnashed his teeth together, and Harry could see that he was actually considering it. He crossed his fingers and took a deep breath. "Sirius, don't see it as helping the Dark then, see it as a good opportunity to change this world for the better. Fudge was lazy and let other people handle things, but you won't have to leave everything to lackeys. I know you're a man of action, and I truly do believe that you would be able to handle the position. You've been an Auror, and people will think twice about assassinating you, you're strong-willed and stubborn, and in these times, a leader is needed who will fight with his people instead of sit back. Please, please take this offer…"
Sirius seemed to lose all his childishness in that moment, his eyes bright and his arms folded across his chest as he peered out of the window, his mouth a grim line. Harry blinked, looking at his godfather in wonder, reminded of the first time he'd seen Sirius as thoughtful as this, right before the man had asked him to come live with him.
"I will think on it," Sirius muttered. "I can't make a rash decision that will change my whole life. But I promise you I'll consider it." With that, he turned around and walked out of the door after thoughtlessly nodding towards the two of them. Harry felt Marvolo's arms tighten around him and he turned to face the man again.
"Now who has stupid ideas?" Harry whispered, shut up by another kiss.
Charlie stretched his back, not very surprised when his hands collided with hard material. Xaphia followed him everywhere nowadays, stalking after him like a shadow, but oddly, the possessiveness wasn't constricting. He would say that the dragon behaved like a mother hen, but somehow that metaphor didn't seem quite right, even though all behaviour pointed that way. The man was now strolling through the meadows and forests that surrounded Hogwarts, and was very glad for the fact that Xaphia led them all here. He didn't quite know how the dragon had found the castle, seeing as he'd never been here before, but Charlie did know that dragons had quite a lot more senses and abilities than humans.
He briefly watched the Steambellies, which had cause him so much trouble on the way here when they'd still gone by foot, play in the stream, clouds of fog rising from the water as their hot skin made contact with the water. Teeth suddenly snapped close near his head, and he looked to his right to see Xaphia chewing happily on a squirrel that hadn't been fast enough. Charlie left him to it and went to sit down on a tree stump that had been overgrown with a soft layer of moss. Putting his head in his hands, he wondered on 'what next'. They had reached Britain now, and found a suitable place to stay… Now he would need to gather news and make his alliance clear. He sincerely hoped that his parents and brothers would forgive him for the side he would have to choose…
Wrapping his arms tightly around his body, he remembered the flashes of visions he'd had at the centaur camp… Different paths the future would be able to take, and his own, crucial role in deciding what future would become reality. He'd seen battlefields with dragons, lying broken and bloody on the ground, he'd seen them slaughtered by Muggle hands, teeth and horns pulled out of the mighty creatures, some still alive… The memories nearly made him vomit, but he knew that, if he would do nothing, these memories might become a very real future.
And yet… Was he being selfish? Would this not be a necessary evil? He knew the horrors You-Know-Who had committed, and though the man favoured serpents, and would protect this noble race, Charlie might be giving up the lives of his own family in return… It was a very hard choice to make, and as that reality crashed down on him, tears started to make their way down his cheeks at last.
But his dragons… his darlings, would need all protection they could get...
He looked up to Xaphia, who stood before him all of a sudden, and who lowered his giant head. The dragon shocked Charlie by suddenly dragging a hot tongue over his face, licking up the salty trails. "Xaphia!" Charlie exclaimed, feeling highly uncomfortable when the dragon continued licking even after the tears were all gone. His eyes went to the stream, but it was empty now, and as he looked around, he noticed they were alone.
He let out a surprised cry when he was pushed off of the trunk, his back hitting ground, and a paw was on his chest. When looking alongside the black, sleek body, he noticed Xaphia's tail was swishing slowly and low over the ground, with the last few spikes on it aggressively raised upwards into the air. He gulped and groaned as a lot of the dragon's behaviour suddenly became clear to him, and he hardly dared to meet Xaphia's eyes, of which the pupils were now dilated, much like a human's would. Nonetheless, Charlie pushed the paw away, Xaphia's tail stilling mid-air and drooping slightly while the back hunched minimally.
"Xaphia…" he sighed, closing his eyes. He struggled with his feelings, his heart hammering in his chest as he remembered all the times the dragon had suddenly pulled him against the scaled skin, or when warm breath had been puffed into his face, messing up his hair… "This is impossible," he whispered, stomach clenching. "and you know it," he continued, new tears already welling up as he averted his face while the dragon suddenly turned around and stormed away, knocking over a couple of young trees, an anguished cry tearing at his eardrums.
XxX
How… How? How had the air changed so much in such a short time, the burning orb of day not even shifting more than a wing span in the sky? The red haze that had dominated the meadow for moments, making the other dragons, those of an unworthy kind, flee, had shifted into cold grey the moment Dragonheart had placed the naked paw upon his and pushed him away. He did not understand… did not want to understand. Of course, there would be trouble! Dragonheart was not one of them, after all, not really, and he did not know all of the ancient rites and could not sing the songs of earth, but he could learn… he could try… just like he, Xaphia, was willing to try and learn the ways of humans.
Why... why… He landed harshly, nearly crashing on the ground, rolling over to stop himself with his body, which scraped over the ground. He clawed at some rocks, completely demolishing them in his grief before looking up at the sky and howling out again. At long last, he placed his head in between his paws, watching at the colours faded, while the contours of the plants became sharper. He breathed out slowly, calming down slightly. Heavy sounds approached him and he looked up, growling in warning as one of the females approached him. He was ready to attack her when she lay down next to him, but before he could do anything, she released the soft, thrilling sound of peace.
Slightly curious, he waited as her snout touched his temple and a stream of her memories entered his mind. A storm of images crashed down on him, and long after she had withdrawn, he watched the images, surprised to find that she had hatched here, near the castle. Dragonheart had taken her away to other dragons and nursed her until she was strong enough to fly, after which she had taken a liking in a small, green male dragon who had diverted her attention from anyone else. But most importantly, her earliest memories contained snippets of the strange language of humans, sounds that she understood even without reading the energy and magic around the human speaking. The image of a near-dragon height man with far more fur than usual, pointing his worm-appendages at objects and repeating sounds over and over again…
And then there were memories of her skills in that developing, as she knew what to listen to and look out for… numerous words that she learnt and practised pronouncing in the night until she found out how to imitate it. memories he possessed now.
Xaphia flew up suddenly, filled with new vigour, leaving the female behind. It wasn't hard to find his human, as Dragonheart was, for once, shrouded completely in grey, a grey that penetrated the woods like a thick fog, and memories of the greyness left a trail through the forest.
"Xaphia…" he heard, and for once, he did not need to listen to the emotions and colours beneath that voice to understand that his name had been said. His chest feeling oddly bubbly, Xaphia opened his jaws, tasting the warm air that rolled off his tongue as he transformed his growls.
"Drrahgoharrt."
So, Sirius as Minister... good idea? bad? Do you prefer Lucius?
And I've decided that Charlie/Xaphia will come back every chap now, as they're so popular :)
Also, people who follow me on tumblr: I changed my acc name to HikariMeropeRiddle.
Read and review!
xx GeMerope
