Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
So, super long chapter to conclude our favourite Dark Lord's eventful birthday! So far, we have had, a strange gift ceremony with our poor little Gabrielle as Macnair's contribution, a Veritaserum mess-up and interrogation and a political decision about Bill's movement. I thought about splitting this chapter in two, but I decided to be nice and give it all to you! Hopefully, you will thank me by taking the time to let me know what you thought of the new developments! :)
To my guest reviewers:
Boblove321: Orange juice would not be indicated for this chapter, I'm afraid, unless you actively seek to damage your computer ;) I was surprised when I didn't see the Black Bunny in your top 4. Did you not like it?
FanFiction Lover: Thanks you for 'taming' your accent for me. It was much clearer now. ;) I'm ok with you staying on Voldie's side, despite liking the Weasley twins. I prefer to write him than them anyway :P By the by, you might think there are too much political games in this chapter for your taste, but I'm afraid it's quite necessary at this stage of the story. It's a really long chapter, though, so you'll probably find enough other things to compensate. I hope so, anyway ^^
Warning: slash in the first part. Slightly graphic.
Chapter 45: 31st of December 1997, Part three: Happy New Year
I Apparated back to Malfoy Manor, feeling tired and drained, not at all in the mood for a ball.
I had mostly managed to keep my weariness at bay at the Shell Cottage because I had been in a relatively dangerous situation, but now that I was back in safe territory, I could only think of how much I was longing to just go to bed and forget all about this horrible day.
Despite my cleaning and freshening charms, I still felt a bit sticky, so I headed upstairs to brush my teeth and take a shower before facing the crowd. I didn't know what time it was, but I really needed some time alone to think about what I had learnt that day.
I wasn't sure if I had made the right move in telling Bill that I would go to some of their meetings. It seemed to me that his brothers and he had so much anger and resentment toward the Dark Lord because of what happened to Charlie that their pacifistic message was not very solid and could collapse at any time. I did get where they were coming from, however, as the picture Bill had painted of Charlie's death was uselessly cruel and traumatising. It bothered me that I was not more affected by it, that I was not angry with the Dark Lord for his horrible actions. I thought that, just a few months ago, I would have been. What had changed? Had I changed that much in such a short time?
I put my head on the cool tiles of the shower wall and exhaled slowly, letting the warm water wash away the tension in my muscles.
"Why is it that every time you leave my side for a few hours, you always come back in the middle of an existential crisis?" I heard coming from outside the shower.
"You always know what to say to cheer me up," I answered sarcastically.
The shower door opened suddenly, bringing in cold air that made me shiver despite the warm water pelting on my back.
I straightened up and turned around to look at Marvolo. He had an eyebrow lifted and his ruby-red eyes were sweeping up and down over my body. I swallowed reflectively as desire coursed through my veins and made my cock stir in interest. Because of one look from him. It was pathetic how much I wanted him, how much he aroused me after all these months.
"I thought that on my birthday, you were supposed to try to please me and not the opposite," he pointed out with a satisfied smirk as he completed his examination of my body.
If his thoughts were heading in the same direction as mine, I would be more than happy to do whatever he asked for.
When he vanished his clothes with a wave of his hand and stepped in the shower cubicle with me, I felt a thrill pass through me, but then I remembered that I had things to discuss with him.
I opened my mouth to tell him about it, but he silenced me by gripping my neck firmly, pulling me to him and kissing me hungrily.
All thoughts of a possible rebellion, of Charlie's death and of the disgusting Macnair flew out of my mind when I felt his skilful tongue battle with mine and his hands roam over my body. Within seconds, I was pressed against the cold wall just out of reach of the shower spray. I shivered at the cold and at the hands that settled on my butt cheeks and squeezed them tightly but deliciously.
I brought an arm around his waist and pulled him closer to me until his chest was plastered against mine. His mouth detached itself from mine and went to latch on my neck, adding another claim to those he had put there that morning.
I took advantage of my newly freed mouth to speak.
"So, what can I do to please the Supreme Leader of Wizarding Britain on this momentous occasion?" I asked. I wanted my tone to be teasing, but my voice was so rough with my desire for him that it came out as if my reverence was serious.
I felt his mouth stretch in a smirk against my neck. Damn smug bastard. He always did like it when I called him that. It was probably a nice feeling when your prophesied enemy openly recognised your place at the top.
"Hmm, you're all nice and docile for me today, my little Horcrux. Where has your brashness gone?" he whispered in my ear as one of his hands traced over the cleft of my butt slowly and his lips traced my neck enticingly.
Conflict warred in me. I didn't know if he wanted me to act more submissively because it was his birthday, or if he wanted me to make a bold move. I chose the bold move, of course.
I lifted my hands up and placed them against the wall of the shower, calculating the height I would need. I drew runes on the tiles with both hands simultaneously. Marvolo drew back to observe the procedures silently.
When I was done, I pressed my hands on the wall and infused it with magic. The tile deformed and two handles came out of it. It was a variant of a technique I had learnt to help wall climbing. I tested the handles to make sure they could support my weight before I lifted my legs and wrapped them around Marvolo's waist and pulled him to me.
He let himself be brought closer, putting his hands on the wall on both sides of me, never breaking eye contact.
"Still following your new resolution to not hide your skills anymore, I see. Runes and wandless magic. Very interesting. I like how your two hands will be busy supporting your weight. It puts you in a vulnerable position, with all of your weak points open for me. Do you think that you have enough endurance to hold yourself up the entire time?" he asked in a challenging tone.
I smirked at him in answer.
"Come and find out," I dared him.
He lunged forward in a passionate kiss that nearly made me lose my grip, but I held on, attacking him back as best as I could without my arms to help me.
I felt a hand circle around on my butt and spells prepared me, stretching slightly and lubricating. He entered me in one swift move that left me breathless and gasping before setting up a rapid pace. The height of my grips was low enough to allow me to match his movement, but, as I had to always pull myself up marginally, I started to quickly feel the muscles in my arms to strain. I had been too lax in my physical training schedule in the past weeks, that was for sure.
Just like I thought I would be fine because, at the rhythm we were going, it would not last so long, he slowed down to a tantalisingly excruciating pace. I could feel him pushing in me inch by inch until he was completely sheathed, only to pull out slowly, leaving me empty and unsatisfied. By now, my arms were killing me and I had started to shift my weight from one hand to the other alternatively, all the while wishing I hadn't pulled such a ridiculous move to impress him with my creativity. I should have cast a Weightless charm to go with it, at the very least.
When I was about ready to give up and throw in the towel to spare my poor arms, he sped up again and increased the strength behind each of his thrust. The burn I felt from my arm muscles mixed deliciously with the sweetly painful sensation of my prostate being stroked relentlessly.
"Oh fuck...oh shit...oh sweet fucking Magic you're too good," came out of my mouth as I felt the pressure build in me.
Marvolo had a short breathless laugh at my words and picked up his pace again.
My magic felt like it was being sucked in me and held in tightly until I finally found my release. It made the glass shower door shatter. My arms gave out and I tightened my grip around his waist and his shoulders to prevent myself from falling on the ground.
He caught me with a muffled sound of surprise and pressed me tightly against the wall to take some of my weight away. I let my head drop back against the now warm tiles and felt his bend to rest on my shoulder. Sex in the shower was exhausting, I had learnt. Also, the handle thing was a bad idea. I couldn't even contribute much to the actual process because my hands were busy holding me up. I just hoped it had still been enjoyable for him. Ever since we had decided to tighten our Occlumency shields while having sex to prevent the Horcrux from acting up, I couldn't feel him from the bond as well as I used to. It was a shame, but it was the compromise we had found to keep me sane.
.
I was startled out of my thoughts by a chuckle. I looked down at Marvolo, who was emitting the sound while shaking his head in disbelief. When our gaze met, his chuckles turned into a full-blown laughter. I was torn between feeling mortified and amused.
I managed a self-deprecating snort before saying:
"Not the best idea I've had so far, right?"
He calmed down after shooting me a last grin. He looked around us and I followed his gaze, realising for the first time that it hadn't been only the shower door that shattered, but the mirrors as well and the taps seemed to have been blown off, flooding the floor of the bathroom. The shower, which admittedly I forgotten about, was currently spurting water in all directions. I reddened in mortification, especially when I remembered that we were in Lucius' home and not the Fortress.
"Oh fuck," I swore.
"That's what you said earlier as well," pointed out the Dark Lord with a smug smile.
"I don't see what's funny. I destroyed Lucius' guest bathroom!" I exclaimed.
"Do you know, per chance, which room is situated right under this one?" he asked me, ignoring my outburst.
I thought about it for a few seconds.
"Another bathroom? Because of the pipes?" I suggested.
"Yes, but more specifically, it's the powder room for the ladies who came to assist to the ball and, as we are becoming slightly late in our appearance, it seems that a few of them have already arrived and that one in particular was in the powder room when the taps suddenly burst off. She had an involuntary shower, thanks to you," he explained with his large snarky grin.
How was I supposed to face all these people after that?
Mortified didn't even cover how I felt and that man couldn't stop chuckling and laughing at me. Wonderful. Wonderful.
He waved his hand around, making a show of repairing everything with wandless magic. His control in this was ridiculously better than mine.
"Can you focus your hearing on the room below us?" asked the Dark Lord curiously.
I frowned at him in puzzlement. Focus my hearing? Magically, he meant? Like I did with my sight? In theory, it should be possible. You only needed to be able to control the flow of magic in your body and direct it toward your ears. Was that how he knew what was happening downstairs? How far did his senses reach?
I centered myself and listened intently, willing my magic to help me in this task. After a while, I started to get a faint noise. Someone was shrieking, but I could barely hear it. There probably were some Silencing spells around the powder room.
"She...doesn't sound too happy," I remarked nervously.
He snorted.
"It's that Undersecretary from the Games and Sports...Umbridge, I think she's called. Lucius has had several complaints about her already, but, since she covers for Yaxley's...unfortunate gambling habit and makes the department work with half the salary, they kept her in place," he explained with a dismissive wave of his hand.
"Wow, you really know everything that happens in the Ministry, right? I thought its management didn't interest you and that you delegated most of the responsibility onto Lucius' shoulders," I commented.
"Hmm, well, I do delegate, but I still have ears everywhere in the Ministry. I want to make sure that everyone is doing his or her job and that nobody is getting too ambitious...
-Oh, wait, Umbridge, is it that toad-like woman who wore a pink frilly dress at the Ministry gala and kept coughing all evening?" I asked, thinking about the ball that had taken place a few days ago but seemed so far away.
"Precisely. And I'll have her fired if she doesn't stop shrieking in the next minute. Efficient or not," he said, getting annoyed at the sound. He must really have sharp hearing.
I looked at him in silence, pondering if I should really argue with him that it wasn't very fair to fire an Undersecretary because I had caused her to be soaked in water at an important gala and ruined her appearance. But then I remembered the look of pure disgust she had sent me when I met her, and I kept quiet. I did not feel even a pinch of guilt in my gut for such a selfish behaviour. Draco would be proud. Remus wouldn't, but he wasn't my favourite person in the world since I learnt of the information he gave about me to Bill's group.
I jolted when I remembered that I wanted to discuss with the Dark Lord about what I had learnt at the Shell Cottage. I followed him out of my suite's bathroom to get dressed, drying myself with a small pulse of magic. I felt a bit woozy as it went over me, however, reminding me that I was still weak magically, and that I had been stupid to use up so much of it for shower sex. One would say that I needed to sort out my priorities, if I continued like that.
"What did you learn, then, at your friends' house this afternoon?" asked Marvolo, who always seemed to follow my thoughts despite my Occlumency shields.
I sat on the bed, trying to determine where to start and how much I should share with him. Then, I remembered my new resolution to try to trust him a bit more, and decided to only leave out Remus' implication and the Veritaserum incident. I doubted that the Dark Lord would refrain from killing all of them if I told him that they had nearly poisoned me by accident, after all.
He listened closely throughout my narration, his face showing no emotion or reaction.
When I was done retelling and sharing my thoughts on the situation, he pursed his lips and looked like he was pondering the question.
"I don't like that you would put yourself in danger to obtain information, but I do agree that you would be in a prime position to know if this group joins the rebellion or starts acting violently against my government..." he trailed off, before snapping his eyes in my direction.
"There is something you wish to ask me," he stated, sure of himself.
I looked at him in surprise.
"Am I so easy to read?" I asked him.
"You are a bad liar in general and absolutely worse at lying by omission. For instance, I know that you kept two major issues out of your narration," he pointed out as if it had been obvious.
Disbelief and amazement warred for the first place in my emotions.
He chuckled smugly at my astonishment. Of course he did.
"Can you read me that well, or is that just the type of things that comes naturally to wizards when they reach a century of age?" I bit at him, annoyed. Why could I not understand him like he could?
He sobered up and looked pissed off. Oups. It was a cheap shot, especially since he disliked being remembered of just how many years separated us. He was weirdly moral like that sometimes. Or maybe he just didn't like to be reminded of his age.
I sighed, scooting closer to him on the edge of the bed until our legs touched. The small contact made my scar tingle slightly, bringing a small smile to my face despite the serious discussion.
"I'm sorry. You're not old. I just have the impression that you know me much better than I know you and it frustrates me," I confessed honestly.
He cocked his head slightly to the side to look at me, before he turned back to the front and exhaled wearily.
"Well, I did turn 71 today and you are only 17 years of age," he stated. My measly 17 looked pathetic when put next to his age. "I am not an easy person to understand either. Most just call me a monster and stop their judgment there. You recognise that there is more to my behaviour and character than 'evilness' and seek to understand the underlying motivation behind my actions. While it is a commendable approach, it is not an easy one to uphold in the long run. Sometimes I wonder what it will take for your inner Gryffindor to emerge and revolt against me, or which heinous act will be too much for you to bear my presence or my touch anymore..." he trailed off dramatically.
He sounded wistful. It was out of character enough to make me question the sincerity of his words, but it sounded as if he was worried that I would leave him. Me! It was absurd.
Perhaps he had driven away like that someone he loved before? It was more likely that this was a form of reverse psychology to make sure I wouldn't fight against him. If I was going to assist to the EFA's meetings, it would create a window of opportunity for plotting against him, after all. Maybe he knew that I wouldn't accept an outright refusal of my participation and was trying to guilt me into not going?
His words made me think of something I wanted to ask him.
"What happened with Charlie Weasley?" I asked.
He frowned thoughtfully and looked slightly annoyed that I hadn't commented on his performance.
"Which one is that?" he asked dismissively. Well, there were a lot of them, I'd give him that.
"The one you tortured and butchered in front of his family, apparently," I replied flatly. It was the first time I saw him forget something important like that.
He lifted an eyebrow at me.
"I don't remember killing any redheads recently. Was he at the Rebel Camp?
-It wasn't recent. Apparently, it happened some ten years ago. I don't know when exactly," I replied, puzzled. It must really have been a trivial kill for him if he didn't remember it. It was striking how much he had marked that family for the worse and couldn't even remember doing it.
"Bill said that you tortured his mother and little sister to make Charlie confess that he was a Rebel," I pushed, trying but failing at keeping the accusation out of my tone. I didn't like it at all, but I didn't know the circumstances surrounding the events either, so a judgment either way would be too hasty. No that he would care if I disapproved, I thought with furrowed brows.
The Dark Lord rubbed his chin pensively.
"It was probably during the purges I did after my Victory. There were too many for me to remember them all at the drop of a hat. With that said, it is interesting to observe the repercussions those sorts of things have years later on the political game. Do go on," he requested, seemingly only animated by his thirst for knowledge and his study of human behaviour.
I cringed at his carelessness even if I had a similar reflection earlier.
"It did have a huge impact on all their lives, you know," I pointed out. "The little girl you tortured, for instance, they thought she'd never be able to go to Hogwarts because you made her magically unstable. Bill said it was a miracle that she got better in time and that she's still living with the consequences of that day. They are all pretty set against you and your government.
-I understand why you say that their pacifism might collapse imminently, then," he agreed, without giving a hint of remorse.
I sighed and dropped the subject. It wasn't as if I could make him care or as if he could fix anything now. What was done was done. I didn't have any weight on the past. I could only hope that I might be able to prevent something like that from happening again.
I searched my thoughts for something I had missed. When I was gone, it felt like I had so many things to ask him, but now that he was here, nothing came to my mind.
"Hey, you never said what was the purpose of today's ceremony in the end?" I reminded him. It was the first question I remembered and I asked him before realising that I had essentially dismissed the subject of him torturing and killing his opposition to ask him about birthday gifts. Way to go, Harry, and you have no reason to be worried about your mental state, right? I thought self-deprecatingly.
"You always want to change the order of things, don't you, Harry? You have to give me your guess first, if you want the prize in the end," teased the Dark Lord as if he was dangling a carrot just out of my reach to make me move forward.
I pondered my answer for a short while, but it was enough time to cause him to get up from the bed and pace a few meters away, lost in his own thoughts.
"It's an evaluation process for your Death Eaters? Depending on their performance today, they either gain or lose your favour, and with it, important appointments?" I ventured, quite sure that this was a part of it.
The Dark Lord only lifted an eyebrow at me from his spot near the door.
"Do you really think I would put incompetents in charge of important departments in the Ministry because they are good at guessing whatever I will like every year?" he asked, as if challenging me to say yes.
I held back, for once. I knew he was competence-oriented and forgot to take it into account in my answer. I pondered the usefulness of the gift ceremony for a while longer, but could still only see the evaluative side of it. What else could there be?
In a flash, I thought of his difficulty with trusting people and his paranoia. I made my second guess.
"Are you...taking advantage of having them there to check if any have plans to betray you or are wavering in their loyalties?" I asked, quite sure I wouldn't get his 'mysterious prize' because I had failed to guess it on the first try anyway.
"Both of your guesses are partly true. Why not use the opportunity to test my servants and allow them a change for social advancement when I am forcing them to attend anyway? It gives a broader specter of usefulness to the ceremony and most would conclude to this purpose when they seek to understand why I bother with it at all. However, neither are the primary reason why I do this," he said, stalking back until he was standing really close to me. He lifted a hand and slid a finger along my cheek, making my magic rise to the contact and swim up to my head. I had never stood a chance of resisting this man's lure, had I even bothered to try. Not when my Magic was nearly begging me to get closer to him.
A flash of the Dark Mark came to my mind, and I wondered at the mechanics surrounding the spell. I knew that it included some version of the Protean charm, but the rest was mystery for me. Perhaps Lucius would let me study his if I asked.
If my Magic reacted that strongly to the Dark Lord's, was it partly the same for those he Marked? Did it drew them to him, prevented them from betraying him, or did it transmit information to him?
"What does the Dark Mark do?" slipped out of my mouth as I pondered the question, my brows furrowed. He shot me a wide smirk and reached up to caress the scar that was etched on my forehead. I had to bite my lip to stop a groan from escaping my mouth as a tide of pleasure rose in me.
I controlled my breathing with difficulty and got out:
"If you can really send that kind of feelings through the Dark Mark, you should advertise it. Everybody will sign up to become your minions just to get that buzz," I commented.
He withdrew his hand from my head and let it fall at his side again. I should have kept my mouth shut. As distracting as the feeling had been, I wasn't ready to part with it yet.
"Fealty bonds," he said, all of a sudden.
"What?" I asked, disoriented.
"You won't get your prize because you didn't guess it right, but I suppose I could tell you the purpose behind the day's ceremony," he explained nonchalantly.
"And that...fealty bonds? You...the Death Eaters are...your subjects? You want to be like a medieval king?"
Marvolo made a dismissive move.
"A King is born in royalty. I had to rekindle my right to Lordship from the ashes of my bloodline. No, I prefer the term…Emperor," he said triumphantly.
I barely held in the snort of derision at his pompous tone.
He seemed to have sensed it, because I felt his magic swell in anger and seek retribution at the perceived slight. He narrowed his eyes at me, probably to decide if I had intended to mock him. After a while, he seemed satisfied by something, because he released a slow breath and his Magic calmed down. I wondered when my 'insolence' would become too much for him to deal with. It was a wonder he hadn't snapped once and shot a curse at me yet. Not that I would stay with him if he did. I liked to think I would have the strength to leave him if our relationship ever became abusive, or that I would fight back, at the very least. If anything, I could always count on my combative nature.
"So...you were talking about an Empire?" I asked to make amends, even if I still thought it was a bit ridiculous.
"Your ginger friends of today were right on one aspect," he commented, making me cringe slightly at the term of endearment to designate people that had nearly killed me a few hours ago. I still didn't know who poured that Veritaserum, in any case. The twins had sent him away from the room before I could identify him.
"What did they have right? That your regime is corrupted and you have too much power?" I shot back at him, not able to keep the accusation from my voice despite my initial intentions.
"Interesting, you omitted that detail in your earlier recounting. But that makes a second thing that they understood, then. I suspect the latter comment to be your personal addition to the discussion, dear Harry, so I won't comment on it," he said sarcastically.
I huffed a breath in amusement, defusing some of the tension in the room. Of course the Weasleys did not dare to tell me what they thought of the Dark Lord's place in the current regime. Just the fact that they were striving for democracy hinted at what I had said, however.
Since I didn't offer any answer to his barb, he continued.
"You see, they were right because they realised that the current state of this regime isn't permanent. They sensed that there was a potential for growth and evolution in the situation. A potential that I, naturally, nurtured in the last years," he exposed, going back to his pacing and waving his hands around emphatically. I frowned at him but felt fascinated by what he was saying despite myself.
"The second thing that they had right is that the current regime is corrupted. Indeed, despite my best intentions, it remained that way. After a few years of firing incompetent Ministry workers and taking down obsolete positions that only weighted down the bureaucracy, I soon realised that trying to heal a bad regime was akin to cutting off the head of a Hydra. Other heads will grow to take its place. For every efficient Ministry worker you will employ, two others will slacken off to compensate. No, no," he continued with abrupt movements. "When a system is rotten to the core, the only way for a government to improve is to reinvent itself completely...and let's just say that I am giving it a push in the right direction," he completed with a smirk. Apparently, exposing his 'evil plan' to me had brought back his good mood. I wondered if I just got a preliminary version of a speech he would make to his Death Eaters soon.
"So...how are you going to change your regime, then?" I asked, not daring to hope he'd say that he wanted something more democratic.
"I am going to tear down the archaic Ministry institution and put back in place only the essential bodies and the efficient workers. I want competent, driven, ambitious and intelligent workers. My new government will be composed only of the best Wizards, Witches and Creatures out there. There will be no distinction of blood status, age, gender or race. Only pure merit...provided that they fulfill a few criteria that will exclude those who are not loyal to me and the regime, of course. Working there will be an honour, not a middle-class, conservative prospective that offer good pension plans," he said with disdain. I didn't know what pension plans were, but with his expression, I guessed they were a Muggle concept.
"People will panic if you take down the Ministry all of a sudden," I pointed out.
The Dark Lord huffed a derisive laugh.
"Of course, they would, if they realised it was happening," he answered with a smirk.
I frowned at him, trying to determine what he was planning. How could he fire everybody without them noticing? Would he start a second Ministry in parallel and make the second take over gradually? How would that work?
"And, to answer your question, today's ceremony was indeed primarily evaluative. However, the evaluation was not based on the gifts they gave me, but on a variety of factors that shall remain my own," he said, shooting me a pointed look to prevent me from asking questions. "The end process is a portrayal of who I should keep and who I should put in which office in my renewed government and in my inner circle. It's also a gradation, a more intricate ranking than the original inner-outer circles. At the end of the War, some fifteen years ago, I granted important jobs to those who had supported me as my loyal Death Eaters. But in my new government, there will be no nepotism. Only the best will remain. It will be...a pure meritocracy like mankind has only longed to accomplish over the course of History," he exposed passionately.
Meritocracy...the government of the deserving. How would he determine who were the best, though? He had talked about a ranking within his Death Eaters, but what about the rest?
I was lost in my thoughts, weighting the pros and cons of the Dark Lord's solution, when I suddenly saw him turn toward the door and open it with a wave of his hand. On the other side was Lucius, who was standing with a hand poised to knock. He didn't seem too surprised to see the door open before he knocked. He must be used to it after years in the company of the Dark Lord.
His gaze took in my place at the foot of the bed and his Master barely a foot away standing in front of me facing the door. I silently thanked the gods that we were dressed and dry. I would have been quite embarrassed if he had interrupted something. In his house. In his guestrooms. Or if he'd seen the state of the bathroom before Marvolo repaired it...
Lucius cleared his throat.
"It seemed that we had a few...problems with the plumbing, but now that they are fixed, the guests are starting to become impatient," he said, telling us not so subtly to get moving.
I felt a spike of anger coming from the Dark Lord and snapped my head in his direction just in time to see him shoot a silent curse at Lucius.
The esteemed Minister fell to the ground, clenching his jaw and hands in pain, his long blond hair brushing the floor as he shook under the onslaught of the spell.
I sat frozen on the bed, looking in morbid fascination at the Dark Lord radiating dangerous energy and slowly stepping closer to Lucius.
He extended his hand, palm up. He pointed his index at his Minister before curling it in a lazy move. His magic picked up Lucius and made the man hover a few inches above the ground in front of the Dark Lord.
"Did I hear you tell me that I was late for my own birthday gala, Lucius?" he said in that low caressing voice of his. Below the velvet, however, there was a sharp tone of reprimand and anger that made the proud Minister flinch and shake his head in denial.
"O, of course not, my Lord. I would never presume..." he stuttered.
"Spare me your platitudes, Lucius. I have been too lenient with you in the past few years. You let it go to your head," declared the Dark Lord before releasing his hold on Lucius and sending him crash noisily on the ground.
He strolled out of the room, not looking at his Minister who was lying down trying to catch his breath. On the threshold, he turned back to me. I couldn't stop looking at Lucius. It had been so easy to take down and humiliate such a respected man. The power the Dark Lord held over his servants was absolute. How many of them stayed with him because they followed his ideals and how many because they feared him?
The Dark Lord's voice interrupted my thoughts.
"Have I stirred the noble Gryffindor in you yet, Harry?" he asked, probably referring to how he thought I would be disgusted by his actions one day and leave him. To be honest, I was more disgusted by my indifference to what had happened. I liked and respected Lucius! Why wasn't I more shocked to see him debased so ? It didn't make any sense!
"Hmm...no, but you can go ahead without waiting for me. I'll join you in a second, ok?" I replied hesitantly, second-guessing my choice of words as soon as I uttered them. If Lucius' comment had been disrespectful, mine probably always were. Why had he never lashed out at me? Was it because I was his lover? Because I had a special status as his 'equal' or because he knew that I wouldn't let myself be treated like that?
The Dark Lord studied me for a few seconds before he pivoted and left the threshold in the direction of the ballroom.
I frowned at Lucius, who strangely hadn't picked himself up yet. I went to his side.
"Do you need anything, Lucius? A Pain-Relieving Potion, maybe?" I asked the man I considered as a sort of father figure.
Lucius huffed a breath in answer. It must have been a powerful spell to affect him like that.
"In the bathroom, behind the mirror. Blue potion," was the reply I got after a short moment.
I went to retrieve the potion and gave it to him. Lucius downed it with a grimace of disgust.
"He was proving a point between you two," announced Lucius who seemed to have returned to his characteristic normal poise with the help of the potion. He got up, dusted himself off and rearranged his clothing with a twirl of his wand as if nothing untoward had happened to him.
I pondered what he had said. The only point I could see in there was that he gave me more leeway than anybody else, but that he didn't like to be disrespected by anyone.
"So...he doesn't react like that with his Death Eaters all the time then?" I asked him; I was uncertain of what happened when I wasn't there.
Lucius shook his head slightly.
"Before his resurrection, perhaps, but not anymore. He isn't putting up a front for you, Harry. Or, at least, as far as I know," he commented. "With that said, however, it would be wise not to make him wait too much tonight. He seems slightly irritated."
I nodded and followed him out of my guest rooms. If that was irritated, I wondered how a pissed off Dark Lord would be like. I wasn't sure I really wanted to witness that anytime soon, though.
"Is everything still alright with you, Harry?" he asked in a low voice, darting his eyes about cautiously. I thought he was probably asking about my relationship with the Dark Lord, so I just shrugged.
"Well, there are ups and downs, but I'm still here, right?" I answered vaguely, not wanting to explain what had caused the tension between us in the last few days.
Lucius nodded seriously once and together we headed to the ballroom.
.
We had barely reached the doors that we heard a harpy shrieking in a shrill voice that resonated sharply in the marble corridors.
The Dark Lord was standing with his back turned to us, talking with Crouch and...a very wet, very outraged Umbridge. Marvolo was pinching his nose in annoyance and I could practically hear him say that he shouldn't have to deal with things like that and that keeping the image of a charismatic leader was too taxing to be worth it. I wondered if he wouldn't shed that persona when his new government would be in place. I wasn't sure what to think of what he had revealed me, because, apart from saying that it would be more efficient, he had not been very clear on the chances he would put in place.
Crouch was trying to keep Umbridge off the Dark Lord and steer her away, but she kept creeping closer to Marvolo and recounting her sob story. Lucius had stiffened at my side when he saw Crouch there. I had learnt recently that there was a weird rivalry between the two of them for the seat of Minister. I guessed that, with his recent punishment, Lucius felt that his position was more threatened than usual because usually, he wasn't so obvious with his annoyance.
I went up at the Dark Lord's side and sent him a supportive smile when he glanced at me. I could feel the irritation oozing from him, so I placed a calming hand on his arm. He looked at the ceiling in irritation and sent a barely perceptible quirk of his lips back at me. A high-pitched cough interrupted us.
"Ahem, ahem. Your Supreme and Magnificent Grace, I was attacked in the home of the Minister of Magic himself! We must find the culprit immediately! I'm afraid it is of prime importance!" said a shrill voice that made me suppress a shudder of disgust.
"Are you suggesting that my Minister's home is lax in security?" asked Marvolo neutrally.
"My Lord, I am merely saying that when one hosts a gala, especially one as important as to have the honour to receive you, one should always be especially careful and doubly so when there has already been a case of infiltration in the home in question," she answered pompously.
"Do you think I need help to protect myself, Miss Umbridge?" said the Dark Lord in a deceptively calm voice.
The toad lookalike bowed down repeatedly and spluttered polite denials coated with simpering compliments. She must have had some sort of political savvy to climb up to the level of Undersecretary, but she was obviously not used to deal with the Dark Lord himself as she couldn't have done anything more to irritate him than what she was currently doing.
"Miss Umbridge, I do not care what you thought happened to you or how dangerous you think this gala is. I find your presence extremely distasteful at the moment. You would do well to head back home and nurse your wounded pride if you want to keep your spot in my Ministry," he said in a dismissive voice before sweeping off.
Umbridge paled dramatically. I failed to keep to little satisfied smirk off my face. Her head snapped toward me and her mouth twisted in the same disgusted sneer she had when we met before.
"Demented twisted little boy, you bewitched him, haven't you?" she snarled at me in a low voice.
My temper flared and I clenched my fists as tightly as possible to keep from hitting her. Something about her rubbed me in the wrong way. Just the fact that she hadn't even cast a drying charm to keep evidence of the 'crime' and immediately went whining to the highest authority she could find made me match her disgusted facial expression with one of my own. That she had the gall of saying that I couldn't be with the Dark Lord realistically struck a delicate cord inside me because it really wasn't clear to me why Marvolo was putting up with a teenage boy like I was.
The only thing that stopped me from blasting her off was the allusion to the fact that I was 'demented'. Could she be referring to my 'episodes'? How did she know about that? Nobody except the Dark Lord, and the Malfoys, to a certain extent, had witnessed any of it. I realised in that moment that it would be quite easy for any of them to discredit me and any attempt at being politically independent from the Dark Lord if news of my weird instability came out. Could any of them have leaked knowledge of that?
Outwardly, I kept on what I hoped was a calm mask and only lifted an eyebrow in answer to her accusation.
"So, you think I would be strong enough to bewitch the Dark Lord himself? I don't know whether I should feel flattered or insulted on his behalf," I stated. Lucius and Crouch, who had been discussing a few steps away from us, turned around at what I said.
"I will see you out of my house, Miss Umbridge. Follow me," ordered Lucius coldly. She shot me a last disdainful look, spun around and nearly tripped on her wet shoes, but she straightened up and scuttered after Lucius, leaving me alone with Crouch.
I hadn't talked to him alone since I knew of his interest and I still felt a bit awkward in that situation, so I monitored his movements closely. When he lifted a hand and went to place it on my shoulder, I took a step back and watched him warily.
He withdrew his hand and gave me a weird smile.
"You know, I won't attack you. I just wanted to apologise for earlier," he revealed in what he probably thought was a reassuring voice. To me, it only sounded creepy. Like he was trying to appear nice when he didn't even know what kindness was.
I frowned in thought at what he had said. Earlier? Ah, yes, the new spell that nearly killed me and left me drained and vulnerable in a threatening situation. Great. Good thing just being in the Dark Lord presence had this tendency to boost up my energy levels. So, the Locket fed off my energy and I fed off his? It was a weird, twisted situation. At least I had innate Magic so I wasn't completely leeching off him like the Locket was forced to do. I shuddered at the concept.
"I should have demonstrated it on of the Rebel prisoners, I know. It was careless of me," he continued, misinterpreting my shiver of dread.
Well, that snapped me off my thoughtful mood.
"Ah, you mean, those who surrendered and are under my protection?" I asked testily.
He spluttered and mumbled a denial, apologised again and left suddenly. I traced his progress down the hall with narrowed eyes.
What the hell was happening today? Was it the 'everyone will mess up' day?
I hurried to the ballroom. The day could not be over too soon.
.
When I entered, I immediately spotted the Dark Lord conversing with adoring sycophantic fans. Daughters and sons of rich influential Purebloods, most probably, or they wouldn't have been let in. It was plainly ridiculous how tightly the bodice of the dresses were wrapped around the girls and how much make up they had on. What made me sneer in disgust, however, was that I spotted a few of them that looked like me among those babbling and giggling around him. Or, well, some particularly were horribly coiffed dark haired ridiculously young boys. They had probably taken Shrinking potion or some sort of Deaging potion-turned-wrong. I didn't know whether I should be angry or amused at that sight. I settled for vaguely nauseated as I made my way to Marvolo, all the while observing his reactions to my little clones turning around him.
He seemed to be struggling to keep a straight face. Of course, to most who didn't know him as much as I did, he had a perfect composure and maybe only looked a bit too indifferent, but to me it was quite obvious. He shot me an amused glance when I got closer and I responded in kind, as small smile escaping my poker face.
When I reached him, only a barrier made of the vapid girls and the other wannabe's separated us. That's when I realised just how short the boys were. I was at least a head taller than them. It was frustrating, really. It meant that everybody thought I was as tall as the average girl, when I really wasn't! I was a very respectable height for a still-growing man. It wasn't my fault if the Dark Lord was so freakishly tall that it emphasised the age difference between us even more. I could only guess what people imagined about our sex life. They probably thought I was cross-dressing in little girls' dresses and calling him 'Daddy'.
I shuddered mentally at the thought and coughed pointedly to get the attention of the annoying fans. The closest to me turned around, but most only shot me a look before dismissing my presence entirely and turning back to Marvolo. I saw a teen who had somehow managed to have made his green eyes flash weirdly. Ok, that was creepy. Was that supposed to represent my magical sight? They apparently didn't want to let me pass.
Frustration bubbled in me. I was the real lover! I had the right to be at his side! This was getting ridiculous. The Dark Lord was probably only letting them be so close around him because it was annoying me, if the small smirk he was currently sporting was anything to go by. Well, I wasn't going to let those idiotic kids get the better of me and stop me from reaching his side.
I joined my hands in front of me like in a prayer, channelled some magic and slowly separated my hands. As the space between them grew, the annoying brats were pushed to the side with some panicking shrieks, opening a corridor for me to pass. I kept my hands spread to keep them at bay and walked up to the Dark Lord who now had a hungry glint in his gaze at my display of magical strength, despite our earlier activities. I lifted an eyebrow at him, acting as if I didn't know what he was thinking, before I turned back to shoot one glare at the little idiots. They all flinched and some of them squeaked in terror. I then realised that most of the boys were in fact girls who was gone through Merlin only knew how many procedures to look as much like me as possible. I didn't know whether to be flattered or disturbed. I settled for disturbed.
"Another nice little trick of yours, I see. You are still full of surprises, my little lover," said the Dark Lord in a low voice that caressed my ear and made all the hair on my body stand up as I supressed a shiver of desire. Gods, how I wanted him. How long had it been already? Not even an hour? It was ridiculous.
"How long do you want to stay at your party?" I asked, even if I knew that it made me sound desperate. I guess I was, in a way.
He barked a loud laugh and smirked knowingly at me. That laugh was going to be in the newspaper tomorrow, I knew. And so was his left hand slowly rising, brushing at my neck and burying itself in my hair as he drew closer to my ear.
"Now, now, Harry. Impatient, are we? It would be remiss of me to leave my birthday party so soon, wouldn't it? After all the effort Lucius went through to organise it. I at least have to make a round and greet the illustrious guests. Do you see there, in the corner?" he said, darting a glance to my left. I followed it and saw a richly dressed wizard talking loudly and laughing. "That's Monsieur Delacour, the esteemed French Minister of Foreign Affairs...
- Gabrielle's father?" I asked, recognising the name. "What is he doing here? Does he know about what happened?" I whispered urgently. Marvolo didn't answer. He only took my hand and brought me to the dance floor, steering me into now familiar steps. I was puzzled at why he was doing so before he brought us closer again, still under the pretence of dancing.
"I don't know if this was part of a plan, but if it is the case, I know one little girl who will sorely miss her Papa after tonight," he hissed in my ear.
I tried to keep the surprise I felt off my face. I wasn't used to hear him sound so furious, but I knew that he didn't like to be played and manipulated.
"I don't think Gabrielle was part of a plan. Fleur was crying so badly and all the Weasleys were shaken by her disappearance. They couldn't have participated in a plan like this. Do you really think he'd make his own daughter go through something like that? I mean, if Macnair had kept her, or if you had been...receptive to her charms...it would have been horrible for her. It was already horrible," I amended.
"Perhaps nobody else but him and a few select members of his entourage knew of it. It would be a perfect pretext to tarnish my reputation in the eyes of the French population," he pointed out, stopping momentarily to make me twirl around once. "Wars were started for less than that," he completed after he pulled me back to him. Good thing I knew this dance well by now, because I couldn't pay much attention to what I was doing.
"Why would the French want to start a war? And why now?" I asked.
"Ever since you passed your OWLs, there have been rumours of your return in Wizarding society. They were confirmed at the same time as the news of the Rebel Camp's destruction. If the French were satisfied to just let the inner tensions settle the conflict and take me down before, chances are that, now that my opposition is nearly null, they are no longer happy with letting things goes without intervening.
-Shit! You think they're gonna start a war with you? It's crazy! Don't they know how powerful you are?" I urged seriously.
The Dark Lord had a smug smile at my comment and spun us around grandiosely.
"They should know, in theory, but they think that they can surprise me. Believe me, the only reason I haven't attacked their snobbish backward little country yet is because I think Muggles are a more dangerous threat than them. I don't want to split my forces in half because their idiotic manoeuvres have exposed us all. Open conflicts are extremely delicate in this day and age," he deplored.
"But, they don't want that either, right? They don't want the Muggles to discover us?" I reasoned.
"They don't understand the threat the Muggles pose. They underestimate them constantly in the ICW assemblies," he revealed.
My head was swimming with new information. I didn't know which question to ask next. I glanced at the French Minister again and asked, incredulous:
"So you think he's here to declare war? On your birthday?"
The Dark Lord shook his head minutely.
"No, not here, not now. He is in enemy territory; it would be too great a risk for him. By now, whether he set up the trap with his daughter or not, he should know the results. He is probably here to observe us.
-Us? You mean...Wizarding Britain?" I asked, confused.
He had a faint smile at that.
"I meant you and I," he said before stopping our dance. I hadn't even noticed that the song was over. I saw him start the bow that meant our dancing was over and hurriedly bowed with him and a bit deeper. It apparently meant that I recognised his higher status, but it didn't bother me because he did have a higher status in society. I was barely an adult and had just passed my OWLs, so my status couldn't compare to the leader of a nation, after all. But what did he mean when he said that Delacour was there to observe us? Our relationship, maybe? To see if it was true and all? I didn't think it was worth the detour, really. There had been enough photographs in the past week or so since it had been revealed.
I left the dance floor and walked over to the buffet to get something to drink. I got a glass of fancy champagne because the server handed me one and I didn't have the heart to tell him I wanted pumpkin juice. The fact that it would probably make me look even younger than I was stopped me as well. I scanned it discreetly to check if somebody had tampered with the liquid or the container, but it was clean. I sipped it slowly, unfamiliar with the taste, while I looked at the dancing couples, my head turning over what I had just learned and the mystery the Dark Lord had left me with.
He had just said that one of the contributing factors for the French to start intervening more directly in our affairs was my presence at his side. But why would I be so important for them? Did they know about the Prophecy? Only a selected few knew it, and most of them were in the Rebels. Moody came to my mind. Could he be plotting with the French? Would he really sell his country over just because he couldn't accept that the Dark Lord had won the war some fourteen years ago?
"Harry! I wanted to introduce you at last to Miss Astoria Greengrass, my fiancée," said Draco, interrupting my thoughts. It was weird to see him at official functions. He always looked so prim and proper, nothing like the annoyingly charming young man I had come to know. I had learnt early on that all Purebloods had public masks. It was part of their upbringing. The Dark Lord pretty much keep it on all the time, only lowering his barriers for me from time to time when I made him laugh or when he teased me, or when we talked about serious stuff, or when we had sex...Well, he was pretty often relaxed with me, now that I thought about it. It was flattering, in a way.
I shook my head minutely to get myself to focus on what was happening. A beautiful young woman stood elegantly in front of me, one hand delicately laid on Draco's arm and the other ready for me to take and kiss, when I'd get out of my head and focused enough to do so. It had been a long day. A very long day, I thought as I bowed and kissed her hand as gracefully as I could manage. This whole protocol still felt somewhat foreign to me, even if Sirius had drilled it in my head years ago. I had never really any chance to apply it until recently.
"It's a delight to meet you at last, Miss Greengrass. Draco has sung your praises numerous times, but he somehow failed to convey just how radiant you look," I said, laying in the charm as thickly as I could.
Astoria lifted a hand to cover her mouth and offered a dainty little laugh for my effort. How charming. How feminine. How boring.
I guess I just confirmed once and for all that I'm gay, I thought at that moment. Then again, the problem might just be that she wasn't the Dark Lord. How did I say it, again, all those months ago? Voldesexual? Apparently, that still held in the presence of such a pretty girl.
Perhaps she is simply too innocent and harmless for my tastes, I ventured as I saw her lips stretch in a pleased smile and reveal two rows of perfect straight little pearly teeth. The Dark Lord nearly had fangs in comparison.
"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mister Potter. I have heard a lot of you from Draco as well," she reciprocated.
"All in good, I hope?" I asked, as wanted the tradition.
"Some, I am sure", she teased lightly. "I do wish to take this opportunity to thank you for saving his life. Without you, I am sure, my wonderful fiancé would certainly not have gotten out of his imprisonment so rapidly and I might not be here, standing before you on this joyful occasion," she said seriously.
Ah. She was referring to when I had rescued him from the Rebel Camp all those months ago. I wondered if it wasn't an infringement of protocol to talk about life debts before five minutes of mundane talk had passed. Somehow, as I saw a hint of determination and strength glint in her turquoise eyes, I knew that Astoria Greengrass existed outside of this shallow world of ballrooms and glamour.
I glanced at Draco, conveying silently my approval of her. Draco straightened up immediately, shot me a pointed look and raised an eyebrow, probably trying to answer that he didn't need my approval, but that he was pleased anyway. Or something like that. But I had gotten pretty good at reading him in the past few months, so I thought I had guessed right.
Before any of us could start a real conversation, a voice called Draco. It was the French Minister.
"Ah, mon cher Monsieur Malfoy! Drago, c'est bien ça?" he asked...or at least, it sounded like a question.
"Draco, oui," corrected my friend politely. "Comment allez-vous, Monsieur le Ministre?"
He lost me after the 'yes' part. I didn't think that I could ever learn another language. English was troublesome enough for me, not to mention the Latin from the spells...I wonder why spells work in Latin, though. Shouldn't they work in any language? What is Chinese or Egyptian magic like? Marvolo probably knows. He told me he had travelled around the world when he was younger...
"You will have to excuse my friend, Monsieur Delacour, he doesn't speak French," said Draco, drawing my attention again now that I could understand him.
"Ah, yes, Misteur Potter, was eet? Eet iz simply a pleasure to meet you 'ere," he said in a fluent English, but with a slight accent. He sounded really enthusiastic to meet me, that was for sure.
"Ah, yes, nice to meet you too, Sir," I reciprocated. I saw Draco wince in the background. I had probably not answered with enough niceties for a foreign dignitary.
"I trust your family is doing well?" came out of my mouth as I tried to make myself sound more polite. I winced internally when I realised that I couldn't have asked a more delicate question if I wanted to, considering what had happened with Gabrielle today.
Still, I thought as I observed his eyes narrowing shrewdly on me. His answer will be interesting to hear. It could be a way to see if the Dark Lord had been right in suspecting the whole thing was a set up.
"You dare ask me zis question?" he hissed, in complete contrast to the jovial man I had met a few seconds before. Well, if I ever thought I had a future in politics outside of the Dark Lord's sphere of influence, I had just shot a Cutting curse to my foot right there and then. I must have committed at least a dozen faux pas since the guy arrived. But I was not one to back down in the face of self-righteous indignation. Because, seriously, what type of father would go laugh and smile at a party the same night when his daughter was abducted by a pedophile? Suddenly, the Dark Lord's theory appeared more and more plausible.
I straightened up under his glare, noting with satisfaction that I was taller than him, and returned his haughty look as best as I could.
"And what if I do?" I shot back at him, refusing to back down and apologise for a tactless question.
"I will not answer eet. Contrarily to you, Misteur Potter, I keep my private life out of ze political scene. Eet is called savoir vivre. Some lessons would help you greatly, I zink," he said haughtily, probably referring to how I had behaved with the Dark Lord earlier.
"You do realise you just said that the Dark Lord and Leader of Wizarding Britain lacked manners," I pointed out, not knowing whether I should be insulted on his behalf or amused that he had dared to do so at Marvolo's birthday gala in the home of the British Minister for Magic. I saw Draco's face twist in horror from the corner of my eye before he got his mask back in place. He looked between us rapidly as if he was trying to determine something. Astoria pulled him down and whispered shortly in his ear, but I couldn't pay attention to his reaction because Delacour spoke again.
"Preposterous, young man! You obviously don't know much about the intricate nuances of ze political language. To attribute such intentions to my simple remark iz to showcase yourself as an amateur from the start," he added with a fake laugh. He was nervous. He hid it well, but I could feel it in his magic spiking and making some of his short blond hair stand on his balding head.
Draco had probably felt the tension rising between us because he tried to tell me to cool it by giving me pointed looks and widening his eyes significantly.
I couldn't care less about his ridiculous signs, but when I saw the Dark Lord look over us and raise an eyebrow in question from across the room, it reminded me that this wasn't a game. A political incident could lead to a war, a war that would have disastrous consequences on the Magical World.
"Haha," I faked a laugh. Judging from Draco's new wince, I probably did it quite badly. "Yes, yes, of course, all of this is quite new to me, I'm afraid. You will have to excuse my poor behaviour. I have been told that I was a bit...hot headed by nature. I hope I didn't offend you..." I offered too magnanimously for my taste.
"Not at all, not at all, I assure you. You are young. You 'ave much to learn. Maybe you should come and vizit us in France. I am sure you would learn at lot of ze political game zere," he said, faux joviality back in his tone. Even his magic had calmed down. Crisis averted?
"Well, I do want to travel around the world at some point and learn about new cultures and forms of magic and so on. Maybe France should be my first stop?" I suggested uncertainly. Who the heck passed from hostility to conviviality so quickly? What was I supposed to answer to that?
"I am sure it will be. Now, if you will excuse me, Messieurs Potter and Malefoy, Mademoiselle Greangrasse," he said, saluting shallowly and taking his leave.
As soon as he was gone, Draco rounded on me:
"What the hell were you thinking! Do you know just how close you passed to causing a disaster?" he asked imperiously.
I looked around and saw that his incensed behaviour was attracting some unwanted attention so I leaned forward and said quietly:
"Draco, you don't know the whole story, so back off. That guy deserved way worse than he got. Trust me.
-What do you mean?" he asked, furrowing his brow. Before I could decide whether I should tell him or not, Astoria interrupted our low discussion:
"Draco, darling. I'm afraid I feel quite neglected here. If you don't pay more attention to me, I will start to think that you like your friend Harry better than me," she threatened with a sad pout. Draco and I shot her an incredulous look. It was a serious discussion that we had. Didn't she understand that?
Just when I was beginning to think that I had overestimated her intelligence, I saw comprehension dawn on Draco's face and he straightened up, his fine mask back in place as he put a light hand on his fiancée's back.
"If you will excuse us, Harry, the lady would like a dance, methinks," he announced before whisking her away. Well, that was sudden, I thought while sipping my champagne thoughtfully. Champagne tasted weird and Astoria's behaviour was puzzling. What did Draco understand?
"I find myself delighted in Draco's fine choice of a fiancée, I must say," said Lucius who suddenly appeared at my side. I would not have to move from my spot if they all kept coming to visit me like that.
I hummed distractedly in answer.
"At first, he was supposed to marry Miss Daphne Greengrass, did he tell you? A graceful young lady, assuredly, but she somehow lacks the political finesse that comes so naturally to her younger sister," he said, looking at me with a lifted eyebrow.
"Right," I answered uncertainly.
Obviously, tonight was not my night for understanding the subtleties beneath everybody's words. I couldn't believe that this day was not over yet. So much had happened and I just wanted to crawl in my comfy bed next to my powerful and dangerous lover and just stay there for a week...lover who was currently having his own strained conversation with the French Minister on the other side of the room. I could only hope the guy didn't go and complain about my behaviour to him as if he was responsible for me or something...
"Simply put, Harry, my son and you looked conspicuous, whispering urgently together like you did, and she had the good sense of putting an end to it before too many people noticed and started speculating," he revealed.
"Speculating about what?" I asked, puzzled. I felt a light privacy ward settle around us.
"About whatever you were discussing, about the relationship between you and my son...perhaps even about the relationship between Draco and our Lord..." he enumerated.
I barely managed to avoid coughing up my latest sip of champagne at the thought.
"The Dark Lord and Draco? That's absurd! Draco is not even gay! And the Dark Lord thinks Draco is childish and whiny!" I revealed without thinking. At Lucius's look of discomfort, I apologised:
"Oh, sorry, Lucius. I don't think I was supposed to tell you that...and I don't think that Draco is childish. He can be really mature when he wants to," I offered. Tonight was not my night for delicateness.
"I am sure he can be, Harry. I am rather relived that my Lord has never manifested any interest toward him, to tell you the truth. Draco would not...be suited for such a...situation, I'm afraid," he revealed, hesitatingly.
I felt my eyebrows lift at that. It was a strange comment. Was he referring to Draco's orientation? Then I remembered something Draco told me when he learnt that I was the Dark Lord's lover.
"Are you worried because of what happened to Draco's cousin? Your nephew, right?
- No, he was related to Narcissa's side of the family. I am surprised Draco talked to you about him, normally he doesn't like to be reminded of it.
-Why, what happened?
-It was rather simple, really. He thought his contacts gave him more leeway and he talked. And he died. It was blown out of proportion because the actual punishment was carried out by his oath of silence immediately and, in that moment, he happened to be in the company of Draco and one of his other cousin with whom he was close, some Nymphadora Tonks. I think you might be familiar with her. They were at an impressionable age, sadly, and Nymphadora grew up to be quite resentful to the Dark Lord as a result. I was surprised when she gave up substantial information and left the Rebels after she was discovered as a spy, honestly," he confessed.
I thought over the story and how it had shaped Tonks' destiny. The Dark Lord had been right earlier, when he said that sometimes, decisions we took only had apparent consequences years later.
"Is that why you were so worried about the Dark Lord and me at the beginning?" I asked Lucius. It made more sense if that was the case.
Lucius eyed me closely.
"What makes you think I have stopped worrying?" he asked.
I looked at him incredulously.
"But it's been months!" I protested. He looked unfazed by my objection.
"You are a candid, direct young man, Harry. I would have wished for you to be in a relationship with someone who could appreciate all that you are. I respect your choices and of course I can't object to my Lord's decisions, but I do worry. The Dark Lord is very... powerful and it's easy to lose one's sense of self to try to please him. You are at a moment in life where your very identity is shaped by your decisions. You have already changed so much from when I met you. I only wish for you to retain some of the fierce young man I got to know when you first came to live at my Manor. Don't let yourself fall in the trap of thinking that your whole life will always turn around him and that you have to change to become what is best suited for him."
I felt oddly moved when I listened to Lucius' explanation. It was striking how much Lucius cared for me. He seemed to have really taken me under his wing. I felt some of the void that Sirius' death had left in me fill up with a renewed respect and affection for that man who was so dedicated to those he considered as his family.
"Thank you, Lucius. It's...very nice to know that you care. But, although the situation between the Dark Lord and me is really complicated, for the moment at least, it works well. And, you know, I don't fool myself into thinking it will last forever either, so you can sleep soundly," I teased him with a small smile. "Besides, don't you have enough to worry about with your own family already? How's Narcissa doing by the way? I haven't really had the chance to talk to her about it yet. You were so busy last time at your Yule party that I didn't want to bother you with my questions."
To tell the truth, I was too buried in my own reflections about my relationship with the Dark Lord and the slight awkwardness I felt in his presence during our sort of 'break' that I hadn't even tried to talk to either of them at their party. To my defense, however, they really were busy. The place had swarmed with people, even more than this party, which had a carefully selected attendance.
"Narcissa is doing well, thankfully, and our daughter is steadily growing stronger as time passes. My wife made a comment the other day about how she never got to see you these days, however. I think she finds it slightly bothersome to be restricted to the Manor grounds now that the news is out, but it would be too dangerous to let her mingle with the public in her fragile state. Her sister Bellatrix is often by, but I think that she would appreciate it if you were to go visit her soon."
It was a good idea. Now that the holiday season was nearly over and that Draco was about to head back to Hogwarts, calm would return marginally in my life. Between my NEWTs tutoring, which would start soon enough, I probably still had the time for a few visits. I owed her that much anyway, for welcoming me in her home after I had just left the Rebels. It felt odd, nearly as if I was part of the family, and yet not, but I liked it.
I agreed with the idea, and he left shortly after to mingle with other important guests, I supposed. That left me alone with my champagne, yet again.
I pondered the small amount I had still left in my flute and wondered if having a second one would make me appear like an alcoholic in the newspaper or if wandering around with a nearly empty glass for too long would make me look like I had a quota of one drink and was milking it the best I could. If I just finished the glass now, could I avoid getting another one, or would it make me look stupid, just standing there empty-handed?
Details, details. I repressed a sigh, rubbing my slightly aching stomach. By now, I was pretty much aching everywhere. I dismissed it as a consequence of the magical exhaustion and the physical strain of the day. Life was not so complicated at the Rebel Camp. Or it was, but for different reasons. Dammit. I was more tired than I thought if I started ranting to myself.
I swept the room with my eyes in search for the Dark Lord. Last time I had seen him, he had been completely at the opposite of the room. Where had he gone now? Dammit, why was everything so blurry all of a sudden? I should have insisted on taking a power nap some time during the day, or skipped some of that long gift-giving ceremony...but then, I wouldn't have been there to help Gabrielle and who knows how the Dark Lord would have reacted to her if he had been alone? He might have just decided it was easier to kill her to get out of explaining why she had been at Lucius' Manor... Such a bastard, he was, sometimes. Where was he, by the way? And what have I eaten recently that could make my stomach hurt so badly? I thought, pressing against a hand on my stomach distractedly. I couldn't even remember last time I had eaten. Wasn't there some food around here?
I looked confusedly around, but it was as if someone had dimmed all the lights. I heard a glass shatter and realised that it was my champagne flute that had slipped from my hand and fell on the ground. Dammit, that would make some headline tomorrow.
"Chosen One too clumsy to hold to his glass." Or even better, "Boy-Who-Lived gets drunk on one glass of champagne! Did he have pre-drinks with the Dark Lord beforehand?" They were a bit ridiculous, really, those journalists. Now, really, what was happening in this room?
I bent down a bit to try to pick up the shattered glass, but I lost balance and slipped and somehow ended on the ground. What the heck? The floor had come up way too fast...if that made sense.
I confusedly heard some shouts and my last thought was that it might be because someone had closed all the lights.
.
Oh no, what happened? Will our dear Harry will be alright? Will there be a war with France? How will the Dark Lord create his empire? Is the relationship between Harry and him degrading, or getting stronger, in your mind?
This was the second longest chapter so far, I hope you liked it all ! Thank you in advance for reviewing! :D