Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter
Woahhhh! I was blown away by the reviews I received for the last chapter! Thank you soooo much! :D You clearly made my week-end, people!
And, as promised, the fast update and the long-awaited meeting! I really hope it'll get the same awesome reception than the previous chapter :)
A lot of you said they felt sorry for Neville. I have something planned for him in the future, so don't worry about it too much.
Gyaku no Sekai: I don't want to jinx it either, but I don't think I'll let this become a 'only one update a year' kind of fic. I think I have a quite fast update rate and I'll keep it up as long as I get these awesome and motivating reviews you guys post. They really push me to write more when I feel like I'm loosing my momentum.
Enjoy!
Chapter 15: 21st of July: In the Belly of the Beast
One might have thought I was stupid, heading to Malfoy Manor like that. But in my head at that time, it was the solution to all of my problems.
Had I just gone out there, into the wild, searching for a place to live, a job to earn some money, connections to make with the rest of the world, I would have always been scared of my shadows, terrified that one day the Aurors would come crashing in the little reality I would have built for myself, and negate all my efforts to live a normal, ordinary life.
In the outside world, I was nothing. I had no money, no experience, no education and no qualifications. The only thing I could do was fight. I couldn't even be a bodyguard, since I wasn't trained in trying to protect anybody else than myself.
Let's face it, I wasn't brought up to survive, I was trained to kill one man, or die trying.
That I liked Charms, that I was proud of having mastered the Patronus spell at the age of 13, that I actually liked running because it helped me clear my head, that I had annoyed the magic out of Sirius every time I forgot to put on a new toilet paper roll, that I was...a human being with emotions and aspirations, none of that had mattered all my life. Well, it did matter to Sirius to a certain extent, but I think he was just so much afraid of me dying in my duel with Voldemort, that he was only comfortable with me when we were training together, because then, at least, he felt useful. He felt like he was helping me survive.
But he failed, in a way, because I didn't know how to live for myself.
When I decided to leave the Rebel camp, I wanted to start my life anew. But I couldn't, not with the Dark Lord's shadow following me everywhere in my imagination, weighting down on me.
I had concluded that, in order to live, I had to die first. Or more like, to feel free of living like I wanted to, I had to try right here, right now, to settle this fight that 'Destiny' had imposed on me.
Even if it would lead me to a near-certain death, I was tired of living in fear and uncertainty; I would be set free, or die trying.
And Draco was my ticket to the Dark Lord. I wasn't an idiot. I was taught to study every new person I met to check whether they were enemies or not. I was watching Draco very closely and I did catch both his near slip, and the mistake in the first names. It surprised me that he had recognised me, as he was quite young during the short time when I was considered a hero, before being slandered as an imposter at the tender age of two or three years old.
So when we apparated to Malfoy Manor, I was nearly surprised that we weren't at the Dark Lord's Fortress already. I started to entertain the hope of being able to sleep one night and rest before confronting Voldemort: that would slightly (very slightly) even the field.
Malfoy Manor was beautiful and elegant. Its style reminded me a bit of the British Magical Library, with its pure white colour and Greek columns. The second we arrived, the lights lit up at once, as if they were welcoming us. Draco had led the apparition and was now leaning heavily on me, a faint tremor coming back to his limbs after our mad dash to freedom. I held him up by putting an arm around his waist and started to trudge up the gravel path up to the Manor.
After a couple of steps, the doors were hurriedly thrown open and a blond woman came running out, tears pouring down her face. Minister Malfoy followed her closely, his wand out and pointing toward us. I recognised him from journal articles and knew that he was also generally recognised as a powerful wizard. When he saw us, his steps faltered briefly and his wand inched down.
I continued our way up to them, starting to sweat a bit under the effort. Despite the more effective technique to destroy the wards, I was still quite winded down and I longed for a shower and a bed.
We came to a halt when we met midway. Madam Malfoy gasped and put a hand in front of her mouth when she saw her son. The Minister held her back with an extended hand. I glanced at Draco, at the grime covering his body, the tremor in his limbs, the swell of his left eye and the caked layer of blood in his hair that I hadn't noticed in the weak light of the shed. His appearance was diametrically opposed to the image he projected in public.
After a few seconds, Lucius Malfoy spoke first:
"Am I right to assume that you helped my son escape, Mister...?"
"Hadrian Black. Yes, I did. And I think Draco needs medical attention now..."
The Minister lowered the hand he had put in front of his wife and made a show of slowly sheathing his wand in an elaborate cane. He then extended his hand to me.
I looked at it without understanding for longer than I would have liked, before I put my wand away as well and grasped the hand before me.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Minister. May Magic look favourably on you and your family from now on." I said with a short bow, the only one I could manage to do while still supporting his son. I felt Madam Malfoy hurry to take Draco from my arms when she saw the move.
"May She smile upon your endeavours. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for saving my son. My wife and I were quite worried about him, I confess." He had a small sincere smile for me that lasted for about a second before he went back to his controlled facial expression.
"Shall we continue this inside?" He suggested, turning slightly and indicating the Manor with a graceful move of his hand.
I nodded and followed him while Madam Malfoy and Draco headed another way to get Draco the right potions and healing spells. Alarms bells were ringing in my head. I had come up with a plan for when I would see the Dark Lord to try to avoid being shot down like a nuisance by one of his Death Eaters and I had put all my hopes on it. I was just afraid I wouldn't live long enough to put it in execution. After a few turns and corridors, Lucius Malfoy came to a stop in front of a door. He seemed to be fighting with himself for a second and turned back to look at me. I could feel something pouring from the room, something dark and intoxicating that, strangely enough, made my scar tingle in a curious way. I detached myself from my observation of the door long enough to nod slightly at him, feeling that he needed some sign of consent before he led his son's rescuer in there.
.
The room was a study with a massive wooden desk in its very center. It had one imposing throne-like chair on one side and two smaller armchairs on the other. The walls were covered with books of all sizes. Despite the relative warmth of the summer night, a fire was roaring in the hearth, heating up the room to an almost unbearable temperature. But the heat wasn't as oppressive as the magic that saturated the room. It filled its every corner; it swirled around me in waves, probing and caressing me. It was so thick that I could nearly taste it in the air.
I closed my eyes for a brief second focusing on the magic and, when I opened them again, I could see the magical currents wafting through the room and filling it with a dark blue tint. I allowed myself a glance at the corner from where the magic emanated.
A tall form was standing there. I slowly took a deep breath to calm the racing beat of my heart and forced myself to turn my eyes away from the person who I knew was standing there, Disillusioned. I sat down in a chair and put my right elbow on its arm, my hand moving to my forehead and rubbing my tingling scar distractedly.
I looked at the Minister again. He was now sitting in his chair behind his desk, watching me closely.
"Why have you saved my son?" he asked. I sensed that this would be more an interrogation than a simple conversation.
"I was already planning to leave the day after my birthday. Why not leave a week earlier, when I can help someone in need at the same time?" I answered indifferently.
"You could have left him there. You had no reason to rescue him; you don't even know him.
-It doesn't matter if I didn't know him. I knew why he was there and I would never have let the Rebels torture innocents for information or use them as a ransom, no matter who their father might be or might have done. Children shouldn't have to pay for the decisions of their parents." I had to stop myself from looking at my right where I could feel strange emotions stir.
"Wouldn't that constitute an act of treason against the Rebels?
-Of course it does, but then again, it's only one of the many acts of treason I've committed against them in the past two years." He paused to consider this.
"Are you the one who send the information on the raids?
-I would have sent it earlier, but my limited education didn't cover an appropriate communication method, so I had to come up with a way to transmit my messages without revealing my identity to potential rebel spies in the Aurors.
-Do they have other spies in the Aurors than that Tonks girl we caught years ago?"
I felt my lips stretch in smug smile.
"Now, now, Minister, do you expect me to hand over all my information freely?"
He lifted an eyebrow in my direction and looked faintly amused.
"You did before.
-Yes, about raids. That was urgent information. The structure and organisation of the Rebellion isn't and I want to bargain with it. The only thing I require, for the moment, is a Ministry pardon for my implication in the Rebels. The rest will have to wait until other things are settled..." I couldn't stop myself this time and glanced to where He was standing, silently listening to the conversation.
"Have you ever participated in a Rebel raid?
-No. Well...I've been implicated in one, but not on their side..."
A surprised flash of understanding passed in his eyes.
"Disillusionment spell?
-Invisibility Cloak.
-The joke shop?
-I got a tool I needed for spying in the meetings of the Rebels. I'll pay for it as soon as I've got the money.
-It can be included in the deal, if you want.
-No, I want to pay for it with my own money. "
The British Minister of Magic leaned back on his seat, looking at me as if I was a puzzle he needed to solve.
"Harry Potter." He said, as if he was challenging me to deny it. I didn't even try to.
"Indeed.
-May I introduce the revered Leader of this Realm?"
I jumped on my feet, whipping my wand in the direction of the shadowed corner. My chair fell on the ground noisily but I continued to stare at the figure glowing with magic. For a second, everything was immobile and silent. It was as if the world had stopped turning to watch what would happen next.
.
Suddenly, the Disillusionment charm fell and he was there before me, in all his dark and immaculate grace, ruby-red eyes piercing through me, observing me and evaluating me, a small smirk stretching the corner of his lips.
Before he could talk or attack, I put my plan in execution:
"Lord Voldemort, I challenge you to an Honour's Duel!"
He lifted an eyebrow, drawing himself up, angling his face to the side a bit, considering.
Back at the village, when Sirius was still alive, we had discussed several options that could ensure that the fight would be clean and taken seriously. The best we came up with was the Honour Duel. The person challenged to a duel couldn't refuse it without submitting himself to the challenger's will and recognising him as his superior. Should he accept, however, he could set the time and location of the duel. The end of the fight is open; it can either be death, or surrender. If one surrenders, the other can state his prize and have it met, as long as it stayed within what the looser had when the duel was agreed upon.
It was quite the risky move, especially with the wining clause, but Sirius and I both thought it was unlikely that the duel would end in anything else than a death. In the improbable outcome where he would surrender, we had agreed that I would ask of him to give up his position at the top of the British Wizarding World and to never plot for or act out his revenge against me. Now that circumstances had changed, in the absurd outcome where I'd win, I'd just ask for peace and freedom for myself...and maybe for a couple of changes in the laws and regulations about Muggles? I'd have to think more about it if such an absurd scenario happened.
The Dark Lord was apparently done pondering because he turned to Malfoy, dismissing him of his own study. His magic was pulsing around me, distracting me as the blond man left us alone in the room.
"I agree to your challenge." He said in his velvety voice, sounding amused. I released a breath, relief and worry at conflict in me.
"When?" I asked in what I hoped was a confident voice, clenching my right hand around my wand tightly. The Dark Lord's lips widened to a sinfully smug smirk.
"Oh, eventually, I'm sure."
I stood there, shocked.
"No harm can come to any of the participants before the Duel...
-I know, don't worry, I won't hurt you before the Duel and I'll instruct my followers to do the same. Not that I think they would care about you anyway...
-But...you need to choose at some point...
-Oh, yes, if my memory serves me right, and it usually does, I have up to a year before deciding, and then I can set the Duel up to a year later. I have a lot of things I need to settle in my life before I can peacefully die, you know.
-But..." My mind was blank. I'd never thought he'd want to wait before he killed me.
"You understand that I'll ask you to stay at my home in the meanwhile, I'm sure. I wouldn't want something to happen to you where I can't monitor you. I heard the consequences would be quite painful to me if you get a life-threatening injury or die before we duel," he said, looking at me carefully.
"Okay, but..." I repeated. He had a feral grin and took a step in my direction. I took one back automatically.
"But what? This isn't going like you expected?" He asked, taking another step. I backed away from him, nearing the bookshelves.
"I..." He stepped closer to me again. My back came in contact with the furniture behind me. I swallowed nervously.
" You thought you would stroll in here gloriously, and challenge me and that I would bend down to your demands and let my life be dictated by your clever little move? Did you really think you could manipulate me so easily by unearthing an obsolete magical contract and forcing me to accept?"
He paused, by now so close to me that we were nearly touching. The feeling of his magic so close to my skin was so heady that I felt dizzy. I closed my eyes involuntarily and let it wash over me. I swallowed heavily and my breathing became shallow. I could feel the tingle of my scar spreading through my limbs. When I opened my eyes to look at him again, he was eyeing me intently.
"Do you really think you can vanquish me?" He said in a low tone that was nearly a whisper. There was a point of mockery in his voice and it snapped me out of my daze. I pushed him away from me and it made him take a step back, but he didn't lose his balance like I had hoped. He looked strangely puzzled at something and glanced down at his chest, but I ignored him, intent on answering his question.
"I had to try something! You would have killed me the second you set your eyes on me, like you did for the Rebels in that raid! I don't think I can kill you, but I have to try because I don't want to die right now!" I shouted at him vehemently.
"What if I would have been satisfied with an Unbreakable Vow from you saying that you wouldn't attack me or try to kill me in any way?
-Like you did for Neville, you mean? You wouldn't have trusted the Vow; you would have me killed before I could even try to find a way around it."
His ruby-red eyes looked at me for a second, pondering.
"Since we have already established that you had suicidal tendencies, I'd be right to be worried about it.
-I don't have suicidal tendencies!
-A lack of a sense of self-preservation, perhaps?" His tone was light, with a touch of humour in it. It felt surrealist to be here talking with the Dark Lord as if he was a normal human being. But I didn't forget why I was there. I reminded him as well:
"So, you'll let me know when you have chosen a time and place? You'll have to excuse me; I have to find Minister Malfoy to talk about accommodation for the night."
I turned around to head out of the study, but the Dark Lord gripped me by the shoulders and shoved me back against the bookshelf forcefully. I glared up at him. He glared back and I felt like I had been stabbed in the forehead.
"Argh! By the gods! What the heck? Have you created a new branch of magic where you can inflict pain telepathically, or what?" I exclaimed.
He narrowed his eyes and scrutinised my forehead. I could see that he wanted to try something, but he just looked down at it in silence.
"What?" I bit out.
"I didn't give you the permission to leave. We weren't done," he explained in carefully controlled voice.
-I'm not following your orders like a minion! I'm exhausted; I can't keep up with this conversation any longer. Especially if you start experimenting with weird magic on me." He looked at me, pondering.
"Very well. Stay here with Lucius for the moment. I'll prepare a room for you in my home in the meanwhile.
-Let me guess, you'll prepare your best room in the dungeons for me.
-You will just have to wait and see, brat." The humour was back in his voice. I glared at him again and then glanced pointedly at my shoulders that he still held to tell him silently to drop his hands so I could leave.
He smirked again, letting his hands drop slowly. I think he did it on purpose, but his hands lingered on me, sliding down along my arms almost in a caress. I shivered at the sensation and then abruptly looked at his face, horrified by my reaction. His smirk had widened in a grin, baring a pearly white row of dangerous looking teeth. I felt my blood rush up to my face and escaped out of the room before he could see my blush.
What the heck is wrong with me? I thought, panicking slightly.
Well, at least I was still alive. For the moment.
Next chapter will be a Lucius' POV and, more importantly, a Voldemort's POV, hehe. You will see understand why the Dark Lord felt strangely distracted in this chapter.
So, how did you find 'The meeting'? And the 'plot twist' with the Honour Duel?
I really hope you liked them and I can't wait to read your reviews!
Thank you so much in advance for reviewing! :D