Thank you all so much for the amazing feedback last chapter! Sorry for the short delay, but I present to you the newest chapter! I really hope I managed to portray Lord Voldemort well enough, along with the rest of the Death Eaters. Have some more Lucius too.
More thanks to Roheryn's Knight! Enjoy!
Chapter Seven: Into the Fire
The portkey dumped them in a graveyard of sorts. There were tombstones everywhere and a stone angel stood erect in the center, her arms held out stiffly in a mock embrace. The grass had long died in the field, and few skeletons of flowers remained, leaving only sodden dirt and bugs scuttling over the cracks.
Harry could feel a twitch of magic and curled his hand around Evan's wrist. Wizards, he mouthed to Evan, who merely gave a confident smirk and slid out of Harry's grasp.
It didn't take long for six figures to apparate into the graveyard with an extravagant display of dark magic. Their nickel-colored masks were sharply angled to replicate the structure of a skull, flashing ominously in the dark. Simultaneously, each Death Eater pointed their wands straight at Evan and Harry unwaveringly. The threat was unmistaken in the air.
"You have been summoned by the Dark Lord," the leader intoned. "If you wish to live, you will follow us."
Evan gave a delighted, tittering laugh and started forward with almost a skip in his step. Harry followed more cautiously and stiffened as a Death Eater grabbed him by the arm.
"Don't touch me," he snarled angrily, his magic jumping around him.
To the Death Eater's credit, the masked man didn't even flinch. He merely reached over again and grabbed Harry by his robes and side-along apparated them.
Harry kept his body straight when they appeared in front of an enormous mansion. It was lavish and decorated with coiling pillars with a castle like structure that loomed tall over the surrounding land. Dark rooftops sat atop white marble walls that shone eerily in the dark while trees gnarled with age twisted and rose ominously above the manor. Albino peacocks strutted from the sides, their beady eyes watching the intruders as they swept across the pathway and into the manor.
They traveled through a long hallway decorated heavily in gold-framed portraits and rich jewels that screamed money and expensive. The consistent appearance of blond men and women became an obvious foresight that the manor belonged to the Malfoys.
Harry felt a shiver of anticipation at the thought of seeing Lucius Malfoy again. It had been so long, and he wondered if he would be just as drawn to the man as he would be to Lord Voldemort. It was no doubt that the man's immense Dark magic would be like a siren to him, a song as forbidding as beautiful.
The Death Eaters entered through a set of double doors and swept into a low, synchronized bow.
"Master. We've brought the escapees."
Harry looked at the scene in front of him with wide eyes. It was a long table, seven seats on both sides with aristocratic men and women sitting upright and steely. At the head, Lord Voldemort sat casually, his right hand slowly caressing his bone white wand. A large snake wrapped around the throne-like chair back raised its head and let out a slow, threatening hiss.
The crafter gasped as his eyes made contact with red poppy.
The man was no doubt handsome and well into his youth. He had dark hair that was slicked back and an angular face and pointed nose that could only belong to an aristocrat. His eyes stood strikingly from his pale face and a mocking grin appeared on his once indifferent face.
"Evan Rosier," Voldemort said in a dangerous tone. He turned to the man nearest to the door. "Mulciber, don't be rude. Bring a chair for Evan and his friend."
The man sneered but did as commanded, summoning two extra chairs and placing them at the end of the table.
Settling into one chair elegantly, throwing one leg over the other, Evan turned bright eyes on Harry who had sat next to him.
"My lord," Evan began. "I—"
"Silence," Voldemort hissed maliciously. He watched with obvious glee as the man's jaw shut with an audible click. "You leave me with a single letter, informing that you leave to obtain a gift for me. I have waited for six years, Evan. Lord Voldemort does not wait."
The man's dangerous tone dampened Evan's delighted demeanor.
"Lucius," the Dark Lord continued. "Gave me this letter the day of my return. Imagine my surprise when I discover that you return six years later after evading my Death Eaters with Harry Potter in tow, nevertheless."
The proclamation brought all the Death Eater's to their feet with angered shouts. Drawing their wands, they pointed the glowing tips at Harry and Evan, the latter who was sitting nonchalantly and the former gripping his armchair tightly.
"Sit down," Voldemort said, waving his hand. "I find myself looking forward to what explanation the great Evan Rosier will gift me with. Treachery, perhaps?"
"Never," Evan said sharply. "I would never betray you, my Lord."
Voldemort cocked his head in mock interest. "Then pray tell me."
Evan allowed a smirk to settle over his features. "Harry. Go to the Dark Lord and proclaim your loyalty."
This was the moment they had planned. Hoping that the man wouldn't shoot him with an avada kedavera on the spot, Harry stood up slowly, distantly aware of the wands pointed at him. He kept webs of magic clenched tightly in his hands.
"You bring me the boy's loyalty?" Voldemort asked, seeming genuinely intrigued.
"More than that, my Lord."
As Harry passed by the chair to Voldemort's right, a witch with large, shadowed eyes leered at him. Her large black curls fell teasingly down her shoulders and to her shamelessly exposed cleavage. She gave a mad cackle.
"Itty bitty Potter has come to join us?" she tittered, smoky eyes gleaming.
Harry ignored the woman. He knew her name—Bellatrix Lestrange—as well as her reputation. She was an unbeatable dueler, rumored to have trained under Lord Voldemort himself.
Stopping at Voldemort's chair, Harry forced down his pride and lowered himself on both knees, painfully aware of the eyes stabbing at his exposed neck.
"M-my lord," Harry said, his voice cracking. Unable to force down the flush of embarrassment, Harry steeled himself and raised his eyes to make eye contact with the Dark Lord boldly. He could almost hear Evan's hiss of disapproval, but at this point, he was the least of Harry's problem.
"I pledge to you my loyalty," he murmured. "My life and my magic are yours to hold and use."
Voldemort looked pleasantly surprised and a spark of interest lit in his poppy red eyes.
Evan leaned forward in excitement. "Tell him, child. Tell him."
Harry swallowed and looked back down. "I give you my loyalty as a crafter," he said, raising his voice to be heard over the sudden eruption of excited whispers. He banished the glamour hiding his crafter markings. "I stand by your side and the Dark. I promise to never fail or disappoint."
To his surprise, a long, pale hand shot out and lifted his chin with a steel-like grip. Voldemort looked at Harry, turning the boy's head side to side to get a better view of the markings.
"Incredible," Voldemort whispered. "The first in centuries." He turned his head to Evan, who had leaned back in his chair with a satisfied air around him. "You are his grounder," he stated flatly.
"Yes," Evan said, albeit cautiously. He could hear Voldemort's dark undertone in the statement and quickly lost his air of confidence.
The grip on his face turned painful and Harry forced down a whimper of pain.
"You hide such a gem from me," Voldemort murmured in a silky voice. "Hide from me what should be mine."
"He is yours," Evan said, bowing his head. "What is mine is yours, my Lord."
Voldemort did not look so pleased at the words as he did at Harry's. "Crucio," he intoned, almost lazily.
Evan fell from the chair with a grunt. His body began to jerk and spasm uncontrollably while the man moaned and screamed in torturous pain.
Harry was horrified. He felt magic rise within dangerously, the vows and his bond pushing him to protect his grounder from this man, who also happened to be the Dark Lord who could kill him with a snap of his fingers.
Finally giving into his instincts, Harry shot up to his feet and clenched his fists around the webs he held in his hands. Magic crowded around the string of malicious magic that shot toward Evan and closed off the source. Evan sank down on the ground ungracefully, his deep ragged breaths painfully loud in the silence.
Voldemort's wand shot out and pressed sharply under Harry's jaw.
"You dare," he said lowly.
Falling back on his knees, Harry bent his head forward. "I apologize, my Lord," he murmured, gritting his teeth at the subordinate position he was in. "He-I have a duty to protect my grounder."
Voldemort gave a sigh of dismay. "Of course," he said. "The bond is unbreakable. Or so I heard." The man's tone turned inquisitive before hardening. "Evan. I do not need you anymore. You may wait outside for your… charge when I am finished with him."
Nodding shakily, Evan left, stumbling through the door. Harry almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
Voldemort turned his attention back on Harry. "Now what do I do with you?" he murmured. "A crafter. Pure magic in my hands." He turned to the snake at his back. Nagini, what do you think?
Harry gasped.
Nagini's forked tongue flickered out. He sssmellss good. Keep him, Master. He isss powerful.
Voldemort gave a closed lipped smile. "Stand up, Harry."
Standing obediently, Harry averted his eyes from Voldemort, who had stood alongside the crafter.
"Harry, I would like to introduce you to my inner circle," Voldemort said. "To my right is Bellatrix Lestrange, Rabastan Lestrange, Rodolphus Lestrange, Antonin Dolohov, Travers, Thorfinn Rowle, and Peter Petergrew. At your left, surely you know Lucius Malfoy with his wife Narcissa. Then there is Severus Snape, Augustus Rookwood, Barty Crouch Jr., Yaxely, and Mulciber."
Harry exchanged nods with Lucius, who stared at him with wide silver eyes that dilated with unmasked interest. "Pleasure," he muttered to the rest.
Voldemort gave a dark chuckle. "There is no need to be shy, Harry. Come, sit by my side." A chair materialized by Voldemort's. It was smaller, clearly made to be an example. Nevertheless, the man waved at the chair and Harry sat obediently.
"So, Potter," Lucius began, folding his hands together and leaning forward in interest. At his side, Narcissa regarded him with cold eyes. "How long have you been fully fledged?"
Harry considered the question. "A couple days ago, after my sixteenth birthday," he replied neutrally. "The marks are still fresh. Over time, they will darken as my abilities settle."
"And pray what abilities?" Dolohov sneered. His dark hair fell limply over his malicious brown eyes. He too had an angular face most purebloods had with distaste clearly written all over it. "Crafter's have been extinct for centuries. Isn't it suspicious that you arrive as Harry bloody Potter with drawn marks on your face, claiming to be a crafter?"
"Surely you are not foolish enough to ask for a demonstration," Lucius drawled, his hand tightening over his cane. "You are hardly even a fly to his side."
"Yes, a crafter," Bellatrix said throatily. She leaned forward fluidly and Harry forced himself not to look down. "Born from a Potter and a mudblood," she spat the word with disgust.
Harry gave a matching sneer. "I wipe my name from them. I do not associate myself with traitors to the Dark's cause."
Bellatrix expression was shocked before it darkened and turned into maniacal delight.
"You deny your patronage?" a dangerously silky voice asked. Harry looked over to see a man with dark, unforgiving eyes, a hooked nose, and limp, greased hair, no doubt caused by potion fumes.
Harry didn't even bother to ask what the wizard's name was. Evan had warned him about this man—Severus Snape—who was a brilliant Potions Master and a double spy for the Dark. Supposedly.
"I deny everything they gave me," Harry said, raising his chin rebelliously. "They were a disgrace."
"Good riddance," Rookwood said with a playful gleam in his eye. "The Potter Lord was foolish to taint the line with such dirty blood."
Voldemort chose this moment to rejoin the conversation. Nagini had uncurled from the chair and wrapped around his body possessively, pushing her diamond shaped head under his hand to be scratched. "You claim to hate your patronage so. It makes me curious to know… how this came to be. Were you not raised by Dumbledore's pawns?"'
Harry felt a hateful sneer draw up on his face again. "I was kept with muggles-" Gasps of disgust were heard, "and that is where Evan found me. He trained me so I could get my powers under control. Only then did he say I was worthy to serve you, my Lord."
Voldemort chuckled humorlessly. "Evan often cannot see past his own eyes. And he oversteps his boundaries if he thinks he can hide a crafter from me." His voice turned dangerous. "Tell me, Harry. Would you die for him?"
Harry knew he was wading in dangerous waters but couldn't help but be honest. "Yes," he declared strongly. "I would die for him."
More than one sneer of distaste was seen. Muliciber in particular seemed disgusted by the Gryffindor-like proclamation.
Uncertainty rose in Harry and he felt the need to ask if Voldemort was asking Harry to volunteer his life for Evan's. Truth to be told, he was bound to save Evan. Despite Evan's shortcomings, the man was still the one who saved his life and stood as his godfather, the only real family he had.
Voldemort looked sickly amused. "Such loyalty… And now I can't help but wonder if it came down to your Lord or grounder, who you would choose."
The room fell silent as Harry mulled over the question. "I swore to serve both you, my Lord, and Evan. I cannot turn against either and will never do so."
"Let me feel your magic," Voldemort suddenly said. "Remove your restraints. I have seen the markings and the nails, and I can recognize the purity of magic in a wizard." He sneered. "Even in a half-blood."
Harry resisted the urge to shout hypocrite at the Dark Lord. As the Death Eaters snickered lowly to themselves, Harry straightened and lowered his boundaries, allowing his magic to expand naturally in the webs.
He smiled smugly as the Death Eaters were stunned into silence. Lucius and Voldemort eyed him with similar interest and he allowed himself to reach with his hand and caress the magic surrounding Lucius.
The blond gave a small shiver as magic trembled and twisted around him. Underneath the table, Narcissa's hand gripped his tightly.
"Impressive," Voldemort said. And then the bastard let the restraints of his own magic.
Harry's poisonous green eyes dilated as pure dark magic washed through the room. It was practically tangible, vibrating with obvious strength and power and darkening the room with shadows. There was so much of it, and it left Harry leaning heavily on the table, his breaths turning deep and raspy.
As the magic surrounded him, Harry forced himself not to touch the man's magic or even look at it through his crafter eye; he knew for a fact that would induce a day dream and he was in no mood to see an Angel in front of Voldemort and his Death Eaters.
Dolohov sneered at Harry's weak display. "Pathetic," he spat. "Look at him! Does not even appreciate the Dark Lord's greatness! He does not deserve a place by His side."
"Don't be stupid, Dolohov," Rodolphous said from his place by Bellatrix. Dark eyes glinted with something akin to admiration "He is a crafter. Even you know that they are made of pure magic and thrive on it. You take it as a compliment when a crafter is stunned into this from a simple display of magic."
Voldemort gave a throaty laugh. "Listen to Rodolphous, Dolohov. Harry simply cannot resist powers like this." His eyes hardened. "He must be kept from Dumbledore and the Light's side. Rosier has done a mediocre job of it; they already know that he is alive and hiding." He turned to Bellatrix, who was staring at him with the same crazed obsession. "Bella, you and Rabastan will train him. Rosier will not have shown the boy everything. And Lucius," he didn't turn to look at the blond, an obvious jab at the man, "give the boy everything he needs at the Manor. But do not let him leave the premises."
"Yes, my Lord," the Death Eaters bowed.
Voldemort stood up and drew his magic back in with a clap. Harry sat upright as he felt the heavy, Veela-like influence seep away.
"Leave," the Dark Lord ordered. "I will speak to the crafter alone."
Murmurs of thanks and reverence were left in the room as the Death Eaters filed out, most scowling at Harry's presence while few seemed excited.
Harry kept his head down as the Death Eaters left. He was fuming from his loss of control, but Evan had warned him about the potential side effects. Hopefully by spending time by the Dark Lord, his vulnerability to powerful magic would weaken and subside enough so that he could act without drooling and making a fool out of himself.
"Look at me, Harry."
Harry found himself unable to ignore the command. Staring into poppy red eyes, he watched entranced as long, elegant fingers reached forward again and touched his jaw.
"Such a precious child," Voldemort whispered. "How can you be the one who destroyed me when you pledge yourself to me so prettily?"
"I was one year old," Harry whispered in reply. "I've always had dreams about a black spirit. It fascinated me even up to today. I can still see it on you," he said honestly. "It's the same. So potent and powerful." He purposely didn't mention the tattered-like appearance.
Voldemort's eyes brightened. "You are very well in tuned with magic, young crafter." He cocked his head. "It makes me how far your potential can go."
Harry felt excitement rise inside of him. He had been cooped up for so long in the cabin and under Evan's suffocating presence, the mere sound of freedom was music to his ears. "As far as you wish it, m'lord," Harry murmured.
The flattery had obviously softened the edges of the Dark Lord, though he still remained impassive. "You serve me," he stated flatly.
"Of course, my lord"
"I can see the vows on you," Voldemort mused. "You are sworn to him as much as you are to me. The question is who you are more loyal to?"
Harry felt a weight settle over him. "Neither," he said softly. "I am loyal to both."
"Tell me," Voldemort said with a gleam in his eyes. "Do you want Rosier as your grounder?"
"W-what?" Harry stuttered ineloquently.
"Is he a satisfactory grounder?" the Dark Lord asked impatiently with a silky hiss. Nagini shifted on his shoulders. "I will admit I cannot fathom how the Mother chose him."
"I was without a grounder until I was ten years old," Harry confessed. "Evan found me while he was escaping from the Aurors and She bound me to him—the first wizard who came by. I… appreciate his efforts. He saved me, and I can only repay him with my loyalty." The words sounded bitter even to his ears.
"Ten years old?" Voldemort wondered. "You must truly be a powerful one. Nevertheless, you need not fear under my care. Nagini here," he gestured at the serpent, "will guard you as she guards me. I will not allow something so precious be damaged."
A commanding hiss sent the enormous constrictor slithering off of her Master's chest and over Harry's body, wrapping around his lithe figure in a tight grip until her head rested on his unruly curls.
He sssmellss like you, Master, Nagini hissed before settling down to close her eyes.
Voldemort's eyes sparkled and Harry wondered if he should make a comment.
Hisss hair smells of those bodies that no longer move and of beastss. Tell him to clean, Nagini hissed childishly. Hisss magic is strong though, Masster. Ssso pure and delicioiusss…. Are you ssure I cannot eat him?
Offended, Harry couldn't help but snap at the snake. No, you cannot eat me. And I don't stink.
The snake recoiled as if struck. Voldemort did the same. If Harry wasn't so terrified of their reactions, he would have smirked.
You speak the serpent's tongue? Nagini asked, flicking her tongue against his cheek.
Voldemort's gaze darkened. His hand waved and Harry flew backwards until his back hit the wall. His hands were pinned by invisible bonds above his head and his legs immobilized. Nagini had shot to safety upon Voldemort's first move and was now slithering around Harry's legs.
"You dare keep things from me," Voldemort hissed as he walked forward with angry strides. "I welcome you here and you dare lie to my face? I should crucio you right now."
"I haven't kept anything!" Harry protested, his heart beating in fear.
"When were you planning to tell me you were a Parseltongue?" Voldemort tsked mockingly. "The same time you told me that you betrayed me?"
"B-betrayed you?" Harry choked out. "I haven't done anything! I swear, my Lord."
"Then explain why Dumbledore's Order has been patrolling this manor when you first apparated here. Explain why the Greyback's pack has withdrawn their alliance with me and instead turned to you. Explain why you held information so vital from me, that you speak Parseltongue."
"I haven't done any of that!" Harry protested hotly. "I didn't even know I was a Parseltongue! I thought there were just snakes that could talk! How can you not see that? I have no Slytherin blood in me!"
"Crucio," Voldemort intoned lazily. His eye brightened as he watched the crafter thrash and moan under the curse, spine arching off of the wall and knees buckling while the invisible bonds held him up.
When the curse was released, Harry sagged, breathing harshly through his nose, his nerves aflame.
"Do not speak to me with such disrespect, Harry," Voldemort scolded. "I have been more than lenient with you because of your status, but no longer. Need I make you scream for me again?"
Harry gritted his teeth against the pain. "I haven't betrayed you my Lord," he beseeched. "I did not know I could speak Parseltongue. And I had no idea that Dumbledore has been following my trail. They too have been attempting to find Evan and I. They must have seen us in the graveyard and put a tracking spell on."
"And Greyback?"
"He's complicated," Harry grimaced. "Werewolves favor crafters, he told me himself. But he will stand with whoever I am loyal to and that is to you, my Lord. I swore a vow that I would serve you. And I do it out of free will too."
Voldemort stared at him with impassive eyes. "You speak the truth."
Harry stumbled against the wall when the invisible bonds released him. He gave a gasping breath and rubbed his raw wrists.
The Dark Lord narrowed his eyes. "Do not think that my suspicions are gone yet. I have summoned Lucius to escort you to a proper room. Nagini will be accompanying you, of course. I'm sure the two of you will have plenty to talk about."
Harry wasn't sure if Voldemort was talking about Lucius or Nagini. Either way he nodded obediently. His magic danced wildly, out of balance from the curse. He struggled to put it back into bonds and organized webs, calming them with touches of magic.
"Malfoy Manor is protected against such enemies," Voldemort said as if to reassure Harry. "Aurors will come to question the Malfoy's. You will stay in your room and will not leave until I tell you to do so. Understood?"
"Yes, my Lord," Harry said submissively.
"Then leave," Voldemort hissed. "I will find you later, my little crafter."
Shivering, Harry walked as neutrally as he could toward the door, trying to ignore the sound of a heavy body slithering after him. As he passed the heavy doors, Lucius slipped into step right beside him, his cane clicking on the marble floor while Evan lifted off of where he was leaning on the opposite wall and followed. They walked in silence, waiting for Harry to speak.
Harry gritted his teeth and tried to force down the aftereffects of the cruciatus. He internally cringed as his left leg shook, making him stumble to the side.
Lucius caught him with steady hands. His silvery eyes were heated with intensity. Their eyes met, bodies frozen with Harry half crouched on the ground and Lucius leaning over with his hands on Harry's arms.
Evan gave a coughing laugh of dry amusement.
Startled, Harry stood up, his traitorous body flushing in embarrassment.
"You've been punished," Evan said as they continued their way down the hallway. "Why?"
Harry felt a cold settle over him. Would Evan be just as angry? "I'm a parseltongue."
"What?" Evan hissed. He moved forward in one fluid step, taking the collar of Harry's robes and slamming him roughly against the wall. Harry felt a sense of déjà vu as his head was tilted back so he could see Evan.
"I didn't know either," Harry said irritably. He risked a glance beyond Evan's shoulder to Lucius's shocked expression. The blond had an almost inquisitive look on his face, his hand tightly gripping the snakehead of his cane. "I spoke with the Dark Lord's serpent. That's when I figured it out."
"And you've never figured it out?" Evan asked dangerously. "Are you dense or just stupid?"
Harry stiffened. When he was young, he might have drawn back but now, he was strong enough to stand up against Evan's crap. "I didn't think it was possible for me to be a Parseltongue," he said, jutting his chin out in defiance. "The only snakes I've heard speak were inanimate objects. I was a stranger to magic—I thought it would be just another talking doorknob."
Evan pinched his nose in exasperation. "And you never bothered to even mention this to me?"
"I didn't think it was possible!" Harry hissed again. "I'm not of Slytherin descent—hell, I'm a halfblood. It simply doesn't make sense."
"It is the Dark Lord's matter. He made it clear to us," Lucius interrupted darkly. "Show the crafter some respect, Evan. As his grounder, one would think that you would hold maybe even a hint of admiration, or is magic so pointless to you?"
Evan snapped his head back to Lucius, his teeth bared in anger. "Don't start, Lucius. You know nothing of this matter. I gave you flexibility six years ago. You owe me."
The two men glared at each other and Harry could feel his knees buckling.
When the tension was too much, he shoved away at Evan's hands and stumbled onto the ground. "If you're done drowning in each other's testosterone, I'm going back to my rooms to rest. Merlin knows I need it."
Lucius nodded sagely while Evan merely turned away. The blond led the two in silence to the rooms given to them, his cane taping on the ground with audible noise.
"These are your rooms," Lucius said. "Miffy!"
A house elf appeared with a sharp crack. She peered her large green eyes at the blond and tugged on her long ears. "Master?"
"You are to give whatever Harry Potter needs," Lucius ordered, purposefully opting out Evan's name. He felt the said man's eyes pierce his back and smirked.
"Yes, Master," Miffy squeaked. She turned to Harry and bowed lowly. "Please follow Miffy, Master Harry."
Evan stalked into the room. As Harry moved to follow, Lucius leaned forward on his cane. "I hope your stay will be pleasant, Mr. Potter," he murmured.
Harry knew the he had the man enthralled with his magic. Despite his tiredness, Harry gave a shark-like grin and reached out with his nails to caress the magic around Lucius. The blond shivered where he stood as Harry allowed his magic to wrap around Lucius's tantalizingly.
"Thank you," Harry murmured before drawing away and closing the door behind him.
Evan stood in the middle of the large room, his arms crossed and eyes dark. "Developing a taste in older men, Harry?"
Harry didn't rise to the bait. "Nothing. You know that just as well as I do. Lucius is simply intrigued by magic. You play on it too, I can remember when I was just ten years old."
Evan didn't look perturbed at the accusation. He remained silent, his dark eyes staring at Harry.
"I'm tired," Harry said flatly, moving past Evan and brushing past the man. He turned to one of the bedrooms and entered, shutting the door softly.
Breathing out in relief, Harry collapsed onto the bed, relishing in the soft green silks and soft mattress. With the last of his magic, he wrapped his body in a healing cocoon, groaning as hot magic swirled down his body and removed the soreness and trembling from the cruciatus curse.
Sinking into the bed, Harry felt his mind flicker in exhaustion and succumbed to the darkness.
Lucius returned to the Master suite, where his wife and son would be waiting for him. His mind whirled at the slew of new information.
Harry Potter was in fact the child Evan had been harboring in secret. Harry Potter was the first crafter in centuries. Harry Potter was the boy who was so impossibly powerful and alluring.
It was mindblowing how much could change within an hour. He could feel the atmosphere change when Evan announced his protégé as Harry Potter and as a crafter. He could see the Dark Lord's eyes brighten and the Death Eaters' eyes narrow in jealousy.
Lucius chuckled under his breath. They were foolish. Harry was a blessing more so than a curse. His magic alone could bring the Dark's victory in the war. He was irreplaceable for both the Dark Lord and everyone else.
Throwing the door open, Lucius greeted his family with a cold smile.
Draco stood up as his father entered. At sixteen, the boy had flourished. He had grown nearly to Lucius's nose and held himself with a confident air around him. His ice blue eyes were solid and unforgiving and his manners purely Pureblood.
"Father," Draco nodded. "Is it true that Harry Potter has been found? And that he's a crafter?" There was a hint of distaste in his voice but he hid it well.
Lucius nodded with a dark smile. "It is true, my son. The Dark will finally be taking the mantle that it deserves."
Narcissa looked less happy about the predicament. "The child is so young," she whispered so thoughtfully, giving an accusing glance at Lucius. "So powerful at an age so young; it is a wonder why the Dark Lord is so intrigued."
Lucius could almost taste the underlying question. "He is powerful, yes," Lucius said softly, taking her hand into his. "But he is but a boy. I am only intrigued by his magic. You cannot deny its allure."
The Malfoy lady looked slightly appeased and her shoulders relaxed. "It is powerful," she admitted. "Almost like that of the Dark Lord."
To the side, Draco watched his parents with narrowed eyes. Harry Potter had always been the talk at Hogwarts. On the day that Harry Potter was supposed to come to Hogwarts, the castle had been abuzz. Draco was ashamed to admit that he had gone through the entire train, Crabbe and Goyle flanking him, looking for Harry Potter, his childish desire to take the boy's friendship overriding any form of common sense.
When Harry Potter's name was not called on the roster, the students were aghast. Where was their precious Boy-Who-Lived?
Draco continued on as if life had never changed. He fought the Gryffindors, played Quidditch, exchanged barbs and veiled threats with the Slytherins, and earned good grades. But somewhere in the back of his mind, the mystery of Harry Potter had always thrived.
And now, Harry Potter had emerged as an advocate of the Dark and a crafter, something precious and wonderfully powerful. Draco was anticipating when they would first cross paths. Would the boy be shy? Confident? Cruel?
It seemed as if his father and the Dark Lord had taken a similar interest. He was inducted as a Death Eater this summer and had not yet gained enough recognition to be allowed into the inner circle meetings. But Draco was smart enough to recognize that something would be changing.
"I can feel the Dark Lord's excitement," Lucius murmured to Narcissa and Draco. "After six years of biding, I believe that it is finally time that we reveal ourselves to the world. Take back what is rightfully ours and put the Light in the place they deserve."
Draco gave a shiver of eagerness and curled his hand around the pale handle of his wand.
Harry Potter and the Dark Lord would be the leading the change in the Wizarding World. He would be a fool not to stand by their side, ready to watch their enemies crumble before them.
Well? What dd you think! I personally loved this chapter.
Now, for some good news: the pace is definitely picking up and there will be more action. Harry will also find himself at Hogwarts sometime soon. Bad news: I need to pick up my pace on writing. The chapters are slowly catching up to the point where I'm still trying to write and I've barely managed to get over that mountain of a writer's block. Hope you all will bear with me as I try to figure it out!
Loveandpower: I'm glad you liked my twist with Stormwing. Hope the Dark Lord's persona worked for you! Thank for the review!
autumngold: Thanks for the review! Again, this will not be a bashing story but Dumbledore will realize his mistake in placing Harry with muggles of the worst kind.
Gauss: I'm guessing that you meant you didn't want Harry to resent the Dark Lord and he won't. Harry, like most wizards, admire power and there is definitely respect there. You'll see their relationship develop later. Thanks for the review!
Ireadtomuch: The unbreakable vow is unbreakable for a reason. Harry swore not to betray Evan and he physically can't because Evan is his grounder. He may be a crafter but he's not invincible. I hope that makes sense to you! Thanks for reviewing!
Kamorie Thanks for all the reviews! I suppose Evan does take the "bad guy" role here and it kind of catalyzed as the story progressed. And the consequences of Evan's actions will show later on, don't worry. Thanks again!
I hope Voldemort stood up to all your expectations! Leave me a review and tell me what you think! Thank you all for your wonderful feedback!