Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
So, I reply to all reviews, but in case I missed you or you have blocked your Messaging function, thank you again to everyone who reviewed! :D The amount of reviews I have is more than I ever thought I'd get. I wouldn't have gone this far without you guys. Thank you so much for your amazing support! :D
Boblove321: It's funny that I was already on page 3 of the updates because you reviewed only about an hour after I posted. It just shows how many dynamic this fandom is, really. It's wonderful that years after the last book and the last movie, there are still so many new stories posted :)
FanFiction Lover: Dammit. Who's the third one? Lucius? Concerning why Harry doesn't confront Barty about it, well...I guess he would if Barty made a definite move. As it is, he barely believes that the man is flirting with him. He won't go and humiliate himself by showing that he noticed Barty's attention when there is a possibility that it's all in his imagination. Because who knows, really? We all assume that Barty is sexually attracted to Harry, but maybe he's just...in a power lust? Or maybe he's just creepy like that and don't expect Harry to actually act on it? Anyway. In short, I think Harry won't hesitate to tell him that he isn't interested the moment Barty makes a clear (for Harry) move. Last thing. About fucking time that Harry falls in love? Ahhh, well. He probably has been for quite a while but just never really realised it. Poor clueless Harry. He never imagined his life would turn out like this when he left the Rebels, that's for sure! :P
A Shy Reviewer, ariana and Amona: Thank you for your nice reviews! I really appreciate it :)
Chapter 35: 19th of November, Part One: Planning.
The night before, I had barely managed to hold my calm in front of Marvolo. I wanted to scream in frustration. How could I love the man when I wasn't even sure I trusted him?
All I was searching for in our weird arrangement was some affection and sexual satisfaction, right? And it was probably the same for him.
It didn't matter that I was his Horcrux or not. That was just convenient and made it particularly interesting sensation-wise when we were...shagging (I still couldn't think of the word without feeling embarrassed). Or at least I though so...I still didn't know much about Horcruxes, really.
The point was that none of us was in it for the long run. We were just inexplicably (on his side anyway) attracted to each other and just happened to get along well together. Exceptionally well, as it happens. Blissfully well.
Damned the gods and the skies above! I was in love with the man. The Dark Lord. The evil, insane Dark Lord. That had killed my parents and might or might not have anything to do with Sirius' death. Except that he wasn't really evil or insane anymore. Not that I could see, anyway.
How was I even supposed to resist his charms when the man was powerful (close to omnipotent), attractive (gorgeous), confident (arrogant), suave (drop-dead sexy), interesting (fascinating) and an all-around genius? He was practically a god on Earth! I tried not to, but damn, I felt privileged every time I woke up next to him, and every time he turned those mesmerising eyes on me.
Perhaps I should just be proud of having held out for so long. Or ashamed that it took me that long and a Patronus change to realise my feelings for him.
.
I turned around in bed, looking at his peaceful face. He was lying on his back, breathing deeply and calmly through his nose, his mouth closed and one arm loosely draped around my shoulder. His even features were smoothed out; his long dark hair was lying flatly around him, in order even in his sleep. It was the complete opposite of mine that were standing on my head obstinately sometimes through the whole day.
He had a bit of stubble, but it was light. He shaved every day when he got up, right before his shower. He teased me all the time because I only had to shave every couple of days, and even then, it wasn't an even beard like his, just annoying spots of hair on my chin and an absolutely horrible moustache that I, of course, had never even tried to let grow, but knew would be hideous.
He had snorted at himself a couple of times, saying that he was picking them up fresh out of puberty and was cutting it a bit too close this time. He mockingly sighed in relief every time he saw me shave, murmuring, "at least he has facial hair" just loud enough for me to hear. I inevitably glared at him whenever he'd say that. And then, of course, he'd laugh at me, unfazed by my frustration...
I couldn't help but to smile when I thought of those situations. It really wasn't what I had expected life with a Dark Lord to be like.
I knew he was still a Dark Lord, however. He still talked carelessly of torture and death, saying that he missed the blood and the thrill of his Dark Magic killing everyone on a battlefield. I had heard him a couple of times talking about it with Nagini before he learnt that I could understand the language.
I had even stumbled on him torturing a couple of Death Eaters a few times. But they were his followers; surely they knew what they were getting into when they swore fealty to him in the first place? I also heard Lucius mention two or three times that the torture of his followers really wasn't as bad as it used to be before he came back to life in 1981. But had I really become so complacent and dismissive in front of all this careless treatment of human beings?
I frowned in discontent. Was Bill right and had the company of the Dark Lord changed me? I only thought that, as long as it wasn't the general population against which he was using his Dark Magic, there wasn't a problem with it. And if there were Rebels casualties...like Sirius...well...they had chosen to oppose him in open combat. Was the Dark Lord supposed to send Stunners back at those who threw Killing curses at him, realistically?
.
While I was thinking, Marvolo opened his eyes and looked calmly at me watching him pensively.
It was always like that. One second, he was sleeping deeply, and the next, he was completely awake. No comfortable drowsiness, no burying his head back in the pillow because he needed more sleep. The Dark Lord had an iron will, and that included getting up in the morning, apparently.
"What are you thinking about?" he asked me, unable to be left in the dark, as usual.
"Do you think I've changed since I came to live with you?" I asked him abruptly.
He was very perceptive and usually a good judge of character, so I thought I had nothing to lose by asking him.
He frowned and looked at me considerately for a moment.
"You might have grown an inch or two, little imp," he teased me with a smirk. I shook my head at him.
"You know I haven't, sadly. And I'm not that small, I already told you..." I stopped, getting myself back on track. "Anyway, I meant mentally. Do you think I've lost some of my moral integrity?" I asked him seriously.
"Why would you think that? You're still awfully more upstanding than I am, but then again, I suppose that doesn't mean much," he continued with another pleased smirk.
The man was in great form this morning. Usually, he at least waited until he had his shower to start teasing me. I frowned at him.
"I don't know but, I don't feel disgusted or anything when I think of you punishing and torturing your Death Eaters...Doesn't that make me a horrible person?
-It depends on you justify it, really. Do you not see them as human beings to be treasured and cherished anymore? Who made you change your opinion? Bellatrix? She does have that effect on a lot of people, I can assure you," he said with a mockingly comforting little pat on my shoulder.
I rolled my eyes at him, before flopping down on my back on the fluffy bed.
"No...I think that they are your followers and, as such, have put themselves in this situation, so they deserved whatever punishments you dish them," I explained to the ceiling, before turning my head in his direction to see his reaction to my words.
He only lifted an eyebrow at me, propped on his elbow.
"I didn't think you'd be that rational about it, to be honest, but you are right. They came to me willingly. I certainly didn't force them to become my followers. The ones you saw me punish didn't have the Dark Mark, however. It would be too great an honour for those incompetents," he declared dismissively, before getting up and heading for the bathroom.
He paused and turned to me when he arrived on the doorstep.
"I'm going to take a shower, if you want to join me, imp," he teased with that smug smirk of his. I was barely a few inches smaller than he was, really. He was the abnormally tall guy.
"I'm not an imp! I'm medium-sized!" I protested in a familiar routine, even while I got up to follow him. I wasn't about to refuse showering with him, especially since our last shower together had ended...rather interestingly. I couldn't wait for a repeat.
"Yes, okay, not an imp. But you will always be my brat," he said in an exaggeratedly affectionate voice while wrapping his arm around my shoulder. I couldn't help but feel moved by the finality I heard in his words, even if he was only teasing. It sounded like he wanted to keep me at his side for quite a while. My idiotic feelings for him wouldn't matter much if that were the case...
.
o0o0o
A while later, Marvolo, the two Lestranges brothers, Lucius, Crouch and I gathered and sat in a planning room which had probably been used as a war room when there were still open conflicts.
On a large sheet of paper, I had drawn a plan of the Rebel camp to explain my strategy and to show its configuration.
The camp was basically in the middle of a forest, in a big circular clearing. The wards surrounded it and had about a diameter of two kilometers. At its thinnest, one had to walk about 500 meters in the woods to reach them. The camp was divided roughly in four sections of different sizes; one of them for the housing, one for the training grounds, one for the communal kitchen and the meeting place (where the reunions took place). The last one hosted the little school and the gardens where Neville grew the vegetables and fruits. At the center of the village, where the roads met, there was a large place where we had sometimes gathered as well.
When I showed them how the Camp was configured, Crouch had immediately scoffed.
"There aren't any barriers or any gates apart from the wards? It will be so easy to attack their stronghold," he said, his voice filled with glee.
I was just surprised that the Dark Lord had included him in the planning at all, considering Marvolo's near-violent reaction after last time. I supposed that if Crouch's Aurors were to be part of the attack, he needed to be present...and the man seemed to understand that now was not the time to flirt anyway, thankfully.
"That's the concept, though. The Camp isn't a stronghold. It's open so that the Rebels wouldn't be stuck inside of the village to defend it. Their whole strategy is to be able to escape as fast as possible if an enemy attacks them," I corrected him, while launching in an explanation of my plan.
It was relatively simple. Remus, Tonks, Draco and I would go to try to spot the exact location of the camp while Neville and the others who wanted out of it would work on the inside of the wards to lower them. Someone would have to hold the wards in a lock down while the rest of us would go inside to face the opposition and make sure they didn't have a new alternate escape. Remus, Tonks and the peaceful Rebels would be portkeyed out to a safe house for the duration of the battle. Then, I would lead the Dark Lord's army through the woods to Moody's house and we'd try to catch him before he left with all the data on the Rebel activity. I knew he kept everything in a safe that he carried in his pocket. With a bit of luck, we'd catch him and make him open the safe and we could kiss this extremist Rebellion goodbye once and for all.
The tricky part of this plan would be the timing.
We discussed the date of the raid and established that we should do it on the 20th of December, because the Rebels sometimes went elsewhere for the Yule and New Year celebrations.
The Dark Lord suggested me (or more like ordered) to get some unwarding techniques from a professional wardmaster because I'd be leading the operation against the wards and I kept dealing with them anyway. That's what I'd be doing in the next month to prepare for the raid.
He would, in the meanwhile, give some training for a few of his Death Eaters who looked like they had let themselves go. Lucius had blushed (blushed!) in shame at that comment. I asked him if I could assist to the sessions because I was curious of how his training would be.
Probably quite different from mine, and possibly more violent, I thought.
The Lestrange brothers had scoffed when I said that.
"What? If you've got a problem with me, just say it," I snapped at them.
They had been making all sorts of comments during the planning about how I should let the professionals do the work and about how I had no idea how to plan a raid. Of course, everyone had suggested alternatives during the planning session and the strategy had changed a lot from my basic idea, but they had mostly been about logistics of things I didn't know, like how many people would participate, for instance, and they had all corrected me in the spirit of making the plan better. All, that is, except the Lestrange brothers who had smirked and scoffed at every sentence that came out of my mouth. By now, I had enough of their superior attitude. It was radically different than from their obedient attitude of a few weeks before. I didn't understand what had changed for them in the meanwhile...
Rabastan drew himself up at my comment, smirking at me like he'd been waiting for me to say something like that for a long time.
"Yes, as a matter of fact, I would like to know why you insist on being here. You shouldn't be part of the planning; you should just give us the information and return to school, with the other children of your age," he declared patronisingly. His dismissive behaviour made my blood boil. If anyone had no reason to be here, it was them, in my opinion. What were they doing in the Dark Lord's administration anyway?
"I want to be part of the planning because I want to maximise the chances of the operation working," I reasoned, keeping a tight grip on my temper.
"Or, maybe, you want to make sure that you are included because you want to be able to sabotage it...I'd find that more likely. You wouldn't want your little friends to be hurt, after all," he pointed out, mockingly, challengingly.
"I don't want innocent people to be hurt; you're right. But I won't get in the way of the fighting," I denied vehemently.
"How do you call it, then? We will be forced to protect you and pay attention to you. This raid is no place for incompetent children."
By then, I was seeing red with fury.
"I'm certainly not incompetent! I've already beaten Lucius in a Duel! Tell him, Lucius, because Mister Lestrange here apparently has a problem with my competence level," I nearly shouted, jumping to my feet.
I saw Lucius lift an eyebrow and open his mouth to shoot me a sarcastic comment, probably, but Rabastan beat him to it.
"He probably let you win. And everyone knows that Lucius has never been the best of duellers anyway...
-What!" started Lucius, indignant.
"If you want me to believe you're worth anything in combat, kid, you gotta prove it by fighting me. Right now. No preparation and fancy tricks," he challenged me, his small smirk egging me on.
I clenched my fists tightly. He wanted a fight? He'd get it, by the gods!
I'll wipe the floor with your pretentious ass, you'll see, I thought, before the Dark Lord interrupted.
"We are still linked by the Honour's Duel, Harry. You can't get hurt without hurting me in the process...I can't approve this duel, sadly. Unless you want to forfeit now?" he asked me, an eyebrow lifted expectantly.
I felt the frustration grow impossibly more inside of me. I couldn't forfeit now! I needed to think about it well before. I needed to ask myself if the Dark Lord would take advantage of the situation and do something really Dark Lordish.
Before I could say any of that, however, Rodolphus interceded in favour of the Duel.
"My Lord, if I may, they could limit their spells to non-lethal ones, or ones that wouldn't cause permanent injuries? I believe that in the case of Honour Duels, one of the participants can agree to the other partaking in relatively dangerous activities without endangering himself as long as both agree on it. The case was established because of a Quidditch national player who had to play a game before a duel..." he drifted off when he saw his Lord's dismissive wave.
I looked at Marvolo. He was thinking about it. Good, because I wanted to fight. It had been too long and I had been feeling a bit helpless after the whole Ministry incident and the pathetic front I had presented the Dark Lord right before that.
"No Dark Magic, no crippling spells, no potentially lethal ones," Marvolo finally declared.
"It's in the kid's favour, but alright," conceded Rabastan.
But I couldn't let the duel start with him already having a ready excuse to explain his upcoming defeat.
"If we say that we can't use a spell more than once, would it still be in my favour?" I challenged him, well aware that I had just upped the level of difficulty of our duel significantly.
"Does that include shield charms as well?" my opponent asked.
"Of course," I confirmed, nodding categorically.
Rabastan sent me a disturbing smile that might have scared me if I had not lived with Moody for most of my life and with the Dark Lord for the past few months. As it was, he might have been a toothless kitten for all I cared.
"Let us adjourn to the Duelling room, then. I expect that, no matter who loses or wins this Duel, I'll never hear a word of complaint from you again on this matter, Rabastan. By questioning his presence and loyalty, you are also questioning my discernment. I will tolerate no more of this insubordination from you, understood?" scolded the Dark Lord.
"Of course, My Lord. I meant no disrespect," answered Rabastan in a contrite voice. I frowned at the interaction. Wasn't the Dark Lord being a bit...mild in his discipline? Something felt...rehearsed in that scene. I stored the thought away for now while I followed them out of the War room and toward the Duelling room.
.
I took advantage of the trip to center myself and draw my Occlumency shields up more tightly. It wouldn't do to start the duel angry. It would just make me more predictable.
I had done the exercise of "no spell twice" quite often at the Rebel camp. It was Sirius' favourite training game because it made you see which spells you relied on too heavily and it forced you to find original and creative solutions on the spot.
.
When we arrived, Lucius, Rodolphus, Barty and Marvolo went to stand to the side of the room, and the latter put up a protective ward against rebounding curses. I glanced at them nonchalantly before turning my eyes on my opponent. Rabastan looked elated and excited by the prospect of putting me in my place. I'd show him what I was made of.
We took place, facing each other at 10 paces of distance: him, standing tall with his wand above his head and his other hand extended in front of him; me, with my wand poised in front of me and my knees flexed for more mobility. I could already tell he'd be a stiff dueller by the way he was holding himself.
The Dark Lord lowered his hand and the duel started officially. None of us moved and, for what felt like a few seconds, everything was silent and immobile. Then, Rabastan snarled and shot me a Bone-breaking curse.
Ah, he'll probably try to make me use my shield early on.
I dodged it, replying with a Tickling hex and Laughing curse in rapid succession. I had chosen those two spells because, to the normal eye (and not a trained magical sight like mine), they looked the same colour as a Stunning spell and a Cutting hex. He dodged them stiffly with a too large step to the side, like I thought he would. Now, he'd think I used up my Stunning and Cutting spell already and wouldn't look for them. I saw that I was right in the superior smirk he sent me.
"Levicorpus!" he shot me.
One of Severus' spells? Sirius had talked to me about it. Did he hope to surprise me? Why did he say it out loud?
Ah, there was a silent charm paired with it, a target seeking Disarming charm, slightly different from the traditional Expelliarmus. I dispelled it and dodged the Levicorpus.
I sent an Earthquake on the ground under him and paired it with a Bludgeoning hex that would make him lose his balance. He put a Hovering charm on himself to float above the shaking floor, but the Bludgeoning spell hit him dead on, making him back away of a few feet in the air, but not enough to end the duel.
He sent a Diffindo at my head, and an Entrails Exploding one at my stomach. Theoretically, if it hit my digestive system, I could still survive and live without too many problems. But it was really pushing the rules.
I shot a glance at the Dark Lord to see if he'd disqualify Rabastan while I put up a shield spell. I didn't have time to dodge the curse without making it hit somewhere more damageable.
I looked at where Rabastan was still floating in the air and thought of sending him a Tornado, but it would be too magically demanding, so I decided to shoot him an underpowered Fire curse. He countered it with an Aguamenti but he stopped it too early because he couldn't see what was happening behind the water shield.
I continued to feed my Fire some magic and he couldn't use Aguamenti anymore. He tried to dodge the fire, but I followed him with my wand wherever he went. He got a bit burnt before he conjured an ice shield, and I directed my fire to split and spill on the sides of the shield. He was forced to dodge down and wrap himself in a magic shield.
I let the fire dissipate. It had served its purpose and was too draining to keep up.
The next minutes were long successions of curses on his part and of first and second years hexes on mine. Who knew that prank hexes would be so useful? Conjurations were very draining and unpractical in long duels. I knew that Sirius would have reprimanded me for the long-sustained fire, but I had gotten his main shield out because of it. And Rabastan was now standing with green skin and babbling incessantly.
He couldn't use verbal magic anymore and had trouble concentrating with the constant stream of words coming from his mouth. I, on the other hand, had had to use my Finite after I was hit by a Finger-removing hex and nearly dropped my wand. It had forced me to reveal that I could cast certain spells with my left hand.
.
I was stepping away from a Blasting Curse that really should have been enough for the Dark Lord to protest when I got hit by an Obstruction Charm that completely blocked my vision with a dark cloud. In theory, a simple Finite would disperse it, but I had already used it up once.
I started to feel a bit of panic welling up in my chest, before I centered myself again. I closed my eyes and thought of the blind folded training I had practised at the Rebel camp. I stood immobile, listening and reaching out with my magic. Rabastan was still floating and babbling, but then he silenced himself. I couldn't hear much more than a faint rustling of clothes when he moved, but my magic was mapping the room quickly. Despite the temporary blindness, I could still see the magic swirling around because it wasn't relying on my physical sight. The Dark Lord standing in the corner would have been enough to light up the whole room if his magic hadn't been so Dark in the first place. Like the magic of everyone surrounding me at the moment, except from mine, as a matter of fact.
I came back to my initial position, wand aloof and knees flexed, ready to move. I waited for Rabastan to shoot a spell so that I could spot him. A Stunning spell whizzed in my direction and I sidestepped it, easily seeing my target now that his wand had lighted up to throw the spell and shooting a Blasting curse back at him. My answer took him by surprise, judging by the rushed sounds of fabrics, but I didn't get him. We continued to exchange curses, my vision alight with the magical residue that we created and that remained floating between us. I knew that I was showing too much of my ability, but I really didn't want to lose the duel, not against that pompous bastard and certainly not in front of the Dark Lord.
After what was probably a minute, but felt like ten at least, our spells had saturated the air of the duelling area so much that I could see his faint shadowy silhouette.
Rabastan was starting to tire; he had probably dispelled his Hovering charm by now, since it was quite draining to maintain. He tried to hide his fatigue, however, keeping up with his energy-consuming big steps and stiff posture, from what I could deduce from my limited vision.
I whirled away from a Quaffled-sized fireball, snapping my wand up in a quick movement that send a Cutting hex hurling to my opponent. His form hovered in place, hesitating for a fraction of second, probably shooting a glance to the Dark Lord when he should have paid attention to his surroundings and he reflectively took his standard big step to the side to dodge it. He walked right in my Stunning spell and fell to the ground immediately.
I felt a rush of delight pass through me and a triumphant grin stretch on my face at seeing his prone form on the ground. It hadn't been easy, but I got him.
I approached him, wand held loosely and prepared in case he was faking it. I sent him an Incarcerous, for good measure, of course, not because I wanted to see the aristocrat bound and squirming at my feet. Of course not. I wasn't vindictive like that. Not with my good friend Rabastan...
I went to him, pushing him on his back with the heel of my boot. He was glaring at me menacingly, his teeth bared like a dog.
Ahhh, so I was right to take precautions...Has he managed to develop a resistance against Stunning spells? That would be quite handy.
"Ah, ah", I tut-tutted mockingly. "None of that now. I won fair and square. Can't you accept this honourable defeat?"
"You cheated! You used the Cutting and the Stunning twice!" he growled out.
I shook my head in sympathy.
"The Tickling and Laughing hex have strikingly similar hues, haven't they? Such a shame you confounded them so early in the duel," I said, cancelling the Obscuration spell and looking around at the suddenly brightly lit room.
The Dark Lord took down the ward and came to stand next to me. He shot me a smirk before wrapping his arm around my shoulders.
"That was still far from my level, brat," he told me.
I scoffed.
"Of course, what a letdown it would be if I could beat you so easily. I think I would have no choice but to forfeit in deception if that was the case," I answered, smirking back at him.
"Insolent brat," he chastised me with an unmistakable fondness in his voice.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Crouch looking at our exchange with eyes and mouth agape before he caught himself gaping.
The cat is out of the bag, I supposed. I didn't know how I felt about that.
I glanced at the Dark Lord questioningly and he smirked at me again, unconcerned.
He's claiming me in front of his Inner Circle Death Eaters, I understood.
"Rabastan, good job, but no doubt will you learn a lot during the training I will provide in the next few weeks. Do attend," ordered Voldemort before strolling away.
I snorted and followed him out of the room, leaving Crouch and the Lestrange brothers to look contemplatively at me as I passed them.
They'd think twice before calling me incompetent now.
o0o0o
Later that day, I was reflecting on what I could have done differently in the duel. I wasn't satisfied with my performance. I hadn't been particularly original and I had revealed too much of my ability to the Dark Lord. Even if I didn't think I'd duel him anymore, but I still didn't feel comfortable showing him so much. I was normally always careful to not give myself away too much, but the way Rabastan had behaved had riled me up so much...It was as if he knew exactly what to say to infuriate me and make me take irrational decisions.
I also didn't understand why the Dark Lord hadn't intervened earlier. We were disturbing the planning, after all, and Rabastan had cheated repeatedly in our Duel. Marvolo was probably letting me affirm myself, but he looked like he was a bit too pleased with the outcome of the duel, as if...
As if he had planned it himself and got exactly what he wanted out of it.
Of course.
Rabastan wasn't crazy enough to act so defiantly in front of his Lord. He had probably received the order to do it. For what purpose? To get me to reveal my skills to him?
My heart wrenched at the thought that it was another set-up, another manipulation. I thought we were done with that sort of things, but I suppose that he had never stopped being a Dark Lord. I just stopped caring about it. And I had been too caught up in my fascination of the man to realise it.
I looked around at my room, where I had isolated myself to think under the pretence of a Potions assignment to complete. My new personal belongings were spread around the room; my new clothes were out of my new suitcase and lined up in my new closet. I looked down at the expansive set of formal robes I had worn for the planning meeting. I looked like a stuffy Pureblood heir; the twins had been right about that all those months ago. Every minute now, I'd probably start complaining about my clothes not being in the latest fashion, or about my parents being overbearing or over-affectionate in public if I continued with that...This wasn't who I was.
This room, those clothes, this whole place. I felt trapped. I suddenly needed to go out, to get away from it all. It was itching me all over. I tore my expansive and stiff clothing off and started rummaging in my closet for something that looked more like what I used to wear.
I found pants that looked a bit like Muggle jeans and put only a button-down shirt with it. There, that already felt a bit more natural. I took my cloak of its hanger and Transfigured it into a Muggle coat. I grabbed the emergency backpack from the side of the room, put it on and Disillusioned it quickly.
From the corner of my eye, I saw a letter lying on my desk. I had opened it a few days ago, but hadn't looked at it again since then. I picked it up. It was my new Gringotts statement, stating everything I now owned and had access to. My eyes fell on the line that described a Black House in London. I had been surprised at its mention and had checked its location on a map. That's where I'd be going tonight. A little expedition. I'd come back, I knew. I just needed out, needed time to think about everything. He hadn't lied to me directly, but I had lied to myself and I needed to sort my priorities out.
I left the room, heading out in a swift, steady pace. When I arrived at the entrance parlour, He was in there. Of course. He looked furious when he saw me.
"What do you think you're doing?" he hissed at me, nearly slipping into Parseltongue in his anger.
"I'm going out," I replied curtly.
"And, pray tell, why I would let you do that?" he asked, still seething.
"Because I need space. I know you set up the whole thing this afternoon. I should have realised it on the spot, but I guess in the past weeks I became too used to turn a blind eye as far as you are concerned."
I saw a flash of surprise pass through his eyes before he narrowed them at me, but he didn't deny his responsibility for the duel of earlier. I took it as a confirmation that my intuition was right.
"I had my reasons," he further confirmed.
"If that line was supposed to appease me, you're doing it wrong," I declared, before breathing in a calming breath. This wasn't about him manipulating me. It was about me changing my standards and needing space to reflect on who I was becoming and were I was heading.
"Anyway, I'm not leaving forever; I'm just going away to think about things. You have no reason to stop me. I'll be back in a few days," I continued.
"Tonight," he ordered categorically.
"What?" I asked, confused by his curt reply.
"You will come back tonight and sleep here as usual. That's the only way I will accept it," he stated.
I examined him carefully. I didn't appreciate how he thought he could order me around as if I was his minion, but I knew he was doing an effort of concession and that he was keeping himself from preventing me to leave at all. It was surprising that he would accept that much already.
"From now on, I want to be able to come and go as I please from this place, as long as I am back for the night. I won't be trapped here," I demanded firmly.
He wasn't my minder, or a parental authority. He didn't have any say in where I was passing the night. I just wanted a compromise that both acknowledged my freedom of movement and gave him some reassurance that I wasn't fleeing anywhere permanently.
I did want to continue sleeping with the man, after all. That hadn't changed, even if I was hurt and pissed at him at the moment. But really, what else did I expect from a Dark Lord? Flowers and champagne?
He was watching me closely. I could see that he was pleased I hadn't pushed for staying away overnight. He walked up to me and stopped right in front of me. I didn't move away. I waited to see what he would do.
He slid a hand to cup my neck and another around my waist before he crushed me up to him, attacking my lips violently and bruising them while he pushed me against the door and squashed me tightly against it with his whole body.
For a second, I didn't know how to react, since I couldn't process what was happening. But then, the low buzz of his magic and the warmth of his body shook me out of my shock and I started to respond eagerly to his tongue mapping my mouth and my hands came around his waist to pull him even closer to me. His hands were roaming on my body, squeezing and rubbing and caressing. I placed my arms around his shoulder and lifted myself up, wrapping my legs around his waist. He hummed in approval as his hands began to kneel the flesh of my butt.
If I didn't leave now, I'd never leave. That was probably his plan all along, the smug bastard.
I pulled my lips away from his, but before I could tell him that I needed to leave, I felt him bite down on the crook of my neck and I gasped in pain. It bloody hurt! He lapped at it to dull the pain and started sucking down on the skin.
I rolled my eyes mentally when I realised what he was doing. The man was obsessed with marking me. I let him do so, if it reassured him. It wasn't as if I was planning on hosting a party any time soon.
The tightening of his hands on my backside and the tantalising roll of his hips was steadily making me lose my train of thoughts. I clung to it as best as I could.
I couldn't let myself be persuaded to stay. That would mean that he could influence my decision. And I was still mad at the man for manipulating me into revealing some of my duelling skills...Ah, yes, I had forgotten about that.
I slid my feet down to the ground and looked at him a bit breathlessly. He was smirking at me, probably thinking that I would suggest to head to his rooms. I shook my head at him.
"Just because I still want you doesn't make me forget what happened this afternoon. I'm going. I'll be back later this evening, I promise," I told him in a firm voice.
His lips tightened together and he clenched his hands, looking to the side. He gave a short nod, acknowledging what I said. I knew he didn't want to go and it made me feel better about our relationship if he made this concession for me.
I went up to him, pressing myself briefly against his chest and burying my face against his neck in a parody of a hug. I inhaled his spicy smell before withdrawing from him, catching his intense gaze just before I spun around and Disapparated.
I only hoped that I wouldn't regret it.
.
Ouch. Harry is having a bit of an identity crisis. At least he didn't blew it with Voldie. I think.
Things never turn out well for Harry when he decides to leave, right? At least, his little forays in the outside world are usually...informative.
Also, I want to add another POV in the next chapter, but I can't quite decide of whom it should be. Hermione? The twins? Bill? Remus? Severus? Which one would you prefer? Let me know which one and what you thought of this chapter!