Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
Hi everyone! A new update, yay! Thank you to everyone who are supporting me! I've done a bit of planning for the rest of the story and am announcing that there should be around 55 chapters. Possibly more, depending on how I decide to split things between chapters, or if the "big finale" will be as humongous as I am currently planning it. It's coming up, though! Slowly, but surely! :)
To my guest reviewers:
FanFiction Lover: Oh...I hope you're feeling better by now! If not, get well soon! :)
Boblove321: I'm glad I convinced you to reread the Black Bunny. Not every chapter, or twist in a story can be pleasing for everyone. It would be too bad to put aside a story like that one for an unfortunate McDonald event ;) I am hoping that my readers think the same if they don't like an aspect of my story too ^^ About the last chapter, you're spot on! That's what I think as well. And yayy, more research! Not. Don't worry, I won't bore you all with the details of the research, just its consequences. ;)
dianadenisa: No, this isn't a Mpreg. Butttt...I'm actually touching the subject in this chapter. Read on and find out! ;)
Kumo: I find it a bit difficult to lurk at things anymore. Nowadays, it's all "open your computer, go on the internet" kind of lurking. Where has the good old "creeping around, trying not to get caught" gone? ;) On another subject, could you really see the Dark Lord taking care of Harry, pampering him? I think Harry wouldn't even let him anyway. He'd find it creepy or he'd be sure that the Dark Lord was mocking him. Or maybe not. You might like the beginning of this chapter. Just saying. :P
Summary of previous chapter: Severus took a weakened Harry to Godric's Hollow and told him about the Dark Magic slowly intoxicating him. Harry is confused, as he isn't sure of how his relationship with the Dark Lord, or even the presence of a Horcrux in his scar is reacting with this factor, but resolves to find a way to somehow filter out the Dark Magic and prevent it from affecting him. He is convinced he can both stay with Marvolo and the Malfoys, and keep his morals and sanity intact. But before he takes on this new research project, he needs to have a talk with the Dark Lord.
Chapter 47: 31st of January 1998: Discussions and advices
When I woke up, he was gone, unsurprisingly. He had, however, stayed for a while and maybe even slept at my side because I could feel some of his energy still gathered around the pillow next to mine. He had also, I noticed with a small warmth filling my heart, put me under the covers.
A smile dawned on my face at the thought.
Looking around at the room, I noticed it was sparsely furnished and adorned in green and silver. Was it his guest room in the Manor, then? It didn't look as if it was used often. And why would it be, after all, when he could just Apparate home every evening? It was probably more symbolical than practical.
I spotted some of my clothing lying on a chair next to the bed. Curtsy of one of the House-Elf, I supposed. They were still very loyal and affectionate with me, particularly since I gave them lot of work to do by being basically an invalid for so long. Sometimes I wondered if they would stoop so low as to prevent my recovery because it would mean less work for them, but then I would remind myself that I had passed too long in the company of a paranoid Dark Lord not to be slightly influenced by his tendencies. I wondered it he woke up each morning asking himself who would betray him or who was plotting against him that day. I wondered if he worried that I would do it too. It was a sad thought to have.
I sat up and dressed in silence, lost in my reflections about the Dark Lord's personality. With the last month of discussions, I was starting to feel like I had a better grasp of who he was and how he worked. The fact that he hadn't dropped me there or demeaned me for being weak and damaged had helped a lot.
I didn't like that he hadn't told me about the Dark Magic intoxication, but then again, maybe Snape was right and he thought, much like everybody else apparently, that I knew already. It was a bit of a far-fetched assumption to make, but it did make me feel better that he exiled me to Malfoy Manor for my own good, and not just because he didn't have the time to 'deal' with me.
It's only when I stood up to see if the Malfoys were there and promptly collapsed on the ground that I remembered that I was still in remission. Putting on my clothes had been so easy this time and I felt more energetic than usual. Was this a result of yesterday's short adventure outdoors, or of the Dark Lord's renewed proximity?
One thing is sure, I thought as I was picking myself up slowly, I'm doing better. And if having sex with Marvolo is helping me recover, then, so help me Magic, I'll do it again sooner than later! I concluded with a pleased smirk. Raging hormones didn't take much of a break for weakened teenagers, I had learnt.
I picked myself off the floor and reached the door with a tired sigh. What I wouldn't give to be able to just move around normally. Or, at least, to regain more quickly my magic. It had been too drained fighting for my survival that it had only flickered weakly for the past month. Today, it felt a bit stronger, thankfully.
I tentatively reached out for magical energies to determine whether Lucius or the Dark Lord were still there. I did have lots of things to talk to both of them.
When I caught a faint trail leading to Lucius' study, I steeled myself for the long corridors and started on my journey. I could do it. My muscles wouldn't become stronger if I didn't force them a bit, after all. Pain was necessary for recovery.
After a few feet, I took to lean heavily on the wall and slide forward on it. It was pathetic, really, but still better than what I could do yesterday, so I kept at it, gripping each door frame tightly when they passed and catching my breath.
At last, after longer than I thought, I arrived in front of the familiar wooden door. I smiled slightly bitterly when I compared how I had arrived at the Manor for the first time, tired, but standing strong, with how I was at the moment, panting in exhaustion and barely able to stay upright.
I took a deep breath not completely unlike the one I took before I first entered that room months ago, and knocked.
"Enter, Harry," I heard the Dark Lord answer.
"Harry? But, how did he leave his bed?" asked Lucius, confused.
I dragged myself inside with as much dignity as I could muster.
"With difficulty, I assure you," I answered Lucius, who looked like he didn't know what was more surprising, my dishevelled appearance or my presence in his study.
"I needed to talk to you both about something. Is this a good time?" I asked, dropping a look at the maps of France littering the desktop. What they had been talking about was obvious.
"Now would be acceptable," offered Marvolo oh so magnanimously. I shot him an amused look and he replied with a small wink at an angle that Lucius couldn't see. Yes, the last month had brought us closer, undoubtedly.
"Right, so. Yesterday, I talked with Severus and he told me about the whole Dark Magic intoxication situation," I explained. Lucius' eyebrows shot up in obvious surprise, but the Dark Lord was just watching me neutrally. I realised that I needed to play this well if I didn't want to tip Lucius off about the Horcrux situation.
"So, yeah, I was wondering about it because I had never heard of it before and I had this idea that maybe, there could be something I could do wards-wise to block the effect. For me to do so, though, I'd probably need to search in the library at the Fortress and study the nature of Dark and Light Magic itself, so I was wondering if you'd help me with that?" I asked Marvolo, who was now frowning considerately.
"Well, at least you didn't mention that idiotic ritual," he commented before answering my question. "I am quite busy at the moment, but I could direct your research better if you were to come back at my home. However, there is the distinct possibility that its ambient magic would harm your recovery."
I shook my head and glanced at Lucius who was looking at us curiously. I resolved to ignore him, for the moment.
"I feel much better today," I told the Dark Lord with a tone that was way too thick with hidden meaning to be anywhere near as subtle as I had wanted it to be.
He snorted at the obviousness of my meaning.
"One day of feeling better isn't conclusive evidence of having accelerated your recovery. You did also leave the Manor yesterday. That could have been the cause," he pointed out logically.
"Yes, well, I can isolate the different things I did yesterday and repeat them separately to determine what the decisive factor was if you want," I answered, liking where this conversation was going. Gods, I was such a teenager. Did I mention how much of a delicious sight he made today? Elegant and sober robes with an undertone of red in them contrasting with his pale skin and making the colour of his eyes even more obvious than before. Neatly combed dark brown hair and a large and strong hand passing through it slowly, sensuously. His every movement could entice desire in me, as far gone as I was. Then, I realised how unkempt and scruffy I must look compared to him today. I suddenly felt distinctively uncomfortable.
I rubbed the stubble on my chin slowly, wanting to make it appear as if I was thinking deeply about the issue, but just panicking inside at how horrendous I must look at the moment. I probably smelled too, from all the effort it took me to reach the study. When was the last time I showered?
"Right, you know what? You two seem busy at the moment. I'll just head back and see you later, right? I should take a nap, maybe a shower. The effort, the slow recovery and all that, you know?"
I didn't like how weak I sounded.
The Dark Lord snorted and I think Lucius even snickered at me.
"What?" I barked at Lucius, irritated, but knowing I probably wouldn't get away with shouting at the Dark Lord.
"Harry, you got in such a state to come here and talk to us, so focused on your task that you were. And now, you want to go back without finishing what you came for just because you look like you just stumbled out of bed to play a Quidditch match? Come on, now," he said, waving his wand at me. I felt the magic wash over me and freshen me up and I just closed my eyes, savouring the flavour of it. Magic was so scarce for me those days that any bit of it was welcomed, even if the need for it was a bit shameful.
I felt a spike of irritation and possessiveness come from our bond and I was suddenly surrounded with Marvolo's delicious Magic. I bit back a moan because Lucius was there, but Gods how good that felt!
When I opened my eyes, the Dark Lord was looking at me all smugly, as if he had discovered a new trick or a new weakness to exploit. Maybe he was just happy that I preferred his Magic over Lucius'. I thought that would have been obvious by now. I refocused on my task.
"Right, thanks for that, Lucius. Okay, so, let me think about it. Ah, yes, Lucius, I wanted to ask you about the paper planes. Severus told me yesterday that you still got some?"
Lucius' pleasant smile immediately froze and he adopted a neutral expression. Had he always been so obvious about his reactions or was it because I knew him well by now?
"Well, we did receive more after I asked you. Eight, to be precise, but they suddenly stopped after the raid on the Rebels, I'm afraid. I'm guessing that whoever was sending them didn't really approve of it and stopped giving us hints. They were so convoluted anyway, that even the Unspeakables couldn't make anything of it," he explained.
"Why didn't you ask me to have a look at them?
-It's hardly a relaxing endeavour..." he protested weakly.
"I've been bored out of my mind in the past month with only textbooks to read! Come on, Lucius! What's wrong?"
Lucius didn't answer back this time, only sitting stiffly in his chair, looking rigidly forward.
The Dark Lord looked particularly interested in knowing as well, since he narrowed his eyes and studied his Minister attentively. I wondered if he were worried that today would be the day he'd learn that his Minister had betrayed him. I dearly hoped not.
Lucius was clearly weighting what he would say next. I couldn't believe that he'd been hiding something from the Dark Lord like that, even if I was hardly a model of transparency myself. Hypocrite much, Harry? Well, at least, I was getting better with that. And then I realised that Marvolo had never seemed bothered by what I was hiding. He was just uncharacteristically patient with me on that issue. Or maybe he just knew everything I hid from him because I was rubbish at keeping secrets.
"Lucius?" I prompted. "Would it help if the Dark Lord was to leave the room?" I suggested uncertainly.
I felt Marvolo bristle at the suggestion and shot him a look to urge him to keep his calm, but, before I could say anything again, Lucius spoke at last.
"No, there is no need. I'm afraid I am rather ashamed of myself. I had a rash behaviour and there is a chance that I might have lost significant data about the rebellion," he revealed reluctantly.
"And pray tell, what you did, Lucius?" commanded the Dark Lord, anger obvious in his voice.
"It was at the time in which I kept receiving all the letters. I was so frustrated with the annoying things. They were resistant to all sorts of spells and always tended to retaliate when you tried to destroy them after reading them, so, well, one day, after a particularly tedious meeting with Unspeakables I had about the very messages, I arrived and saw a new one on my desk and just...shot an Incendio at it. And it burnt. To ashes. And I have no idea of what it said, even today," he confessed.
I furrowed in brow in thought.
"And you think that message was significant? The key to understanding the others?" I asked.
He shook his head guiltily.
"I have no idea. From what I can recall, it looked slightly different from the others. A different shade of purple, a different folding technique, a heavier look. Different spellwork, obviously, since it didn't survive the fire. I've just...thought about that thrice-accursed letter so often in the past months and just can't get it out of my head..." he trailed off. I had never heard Lucius sound more uncertain.
"Why haven't you gone back with a TIme-Turner to check the letter before you arrived to burn it?" said the Dark Lord, interrupting Lucius' guilty rant.
Lucius looked at his Master as if he'd never seen him.
"I, I, never thought of it, my Lord, but now, I'm afraid...
-Yes, yes, I am quite aware that it is much too late for this solution, Lucius. However, you do realise how easily this problem could have been settled had you just gone to ask for any of our help? Crouch was at the Ministry and could have thought of the Time-Turner. You were just coming from a meeting with Unspeakables. Even they could have helped you with your problem. But you took it on your shoulders, kept it for yourself and it's been eating you inside with guilt ever since. Such pathetic example of a leader you make these days, Lucius," accused the Dark Lord, harshly.
By then, I knew I probably looked like a fish with my jaw dropped and my eyes wide open, so I composed myself again and thought of how bewildering it was sometimes to see how Marvolo behaved with his servants and, well, anybody else but me, really. Was I that different for him? Did I have a certain influence on his actions? Maybe I would test this theory now.
I licked my lips and cleared my throat noisily.
"Yes, Harry, you have something to share with the class?" he asked snidely as if he knew what I was about to do and disapproved instantly. Maybe I wouldn't test the theory now, then. How well that man knew me sometimes, it was scary. He didn't know all of me, however, so I could still surprise him.
"I think that the plane Lucius burnt didn't come from the same person, and so, in theory, the messages should stand on their own, assuming that they have sent all they wanted us to have and that they didn't stop because of the raid. When was the last message, Lucius?" I asked, directing the discussion away from Lucius' mistake, because going head to head with the Dark Lord about the punishment of his minion was not something I wanted to do if he wasn't in a receptive mood. Not to mention that I didn't have authority on that at all. I just liked Lucius too much to stand by without attempting to help him out.
"The message I burnt arrived...on the 10th of December. The last of the others arrived some time before that; perhaps a few days. I think Rookwood, the Head of the Department of Mysteries, was the last to receive one. He was the one to suggest a team of Unspeakables on the question," he answered.
"Do you have the messages with you? I'd like to take a look at them," I told him.
"Certainly, I just have to go get them, they are in my office at the Ministry," answered Lucius, before getting up after getting a nod of consent from his Master. He left us alone in his study. We sat there in silence for a moment, before Marvolo spoke up.
"I find it particularly ironic that the Rebels trained you physically and in offensive Magic mostly and yet here you are, taking on one research project after another, developing wards and sharpening your logical mind on puzzles and enigmas," commented the Dark Lord neutrally.
"The way I see it, I don't want anything to do with their mission, so I'm purposely trying to improve myself in areas that have no relevance to my so-called 'Destiny'," I answered, unable to keep my contempt hidden at the last word.
Marvolo looked at me in silence, caressing his jaw slowly as if he was deep in thought.
"Ultimately, the goal behind their teaching is not that important. Just because they had an unsuitable target in mind when they trained you doesn't take away the fact that you have a well-rounded offensive profile and that one should always play with their strengths in a conflict," he said cryptically.
"I didn't think that I was in a conflict at the moment. I'm just trying to get better at things I like and find useful for my future outside of fighting and war.
-And if war were to come to your door, Harry, what would you do then? Would you try to contain your enemies with complex wards or elaborate strategies?" he suggested as if it was absurd.
I thought about it and knew I'd probably go straight in the battle and hex the Magic out of them. Or maybe use a blade and cut their wand hands or something. Wizards were particularly vulnerable to physical attacks, after all. Just as I thought of that, the urge to get my daggers out and practice with it overcame me. And how intricate and elegant it was to practice my martial art katas, how right it felt to be one with your Magic when you practised, meditated and reached a state of complete balance. That training had made me feel like someone who wielded power and controlled it perfectly. It had given me the strength and confidence needed to walk up to the freaking Dark Lord of Britain and challenge him to a duel to death and, as ridiculous as the idea had been, it had taken courage and a certain amount of recklessness that I hadn't exhibited in a long time.
"Good. When you start feeling better and your magic is stronger than now, we will begin training together," declared Marvolo categorically. It seemed like he could follow my thoughts as closely as if I had spoken them aloud.
I choked when I realised what he had said.
"Together?" I asked in a very manly voice that absolutely did not break.
He shot me a knowing smirk.
"Or what? Are you scared that I learn all of your little tricks?" he challenged, reminding me of my New Years resolution not to hide stuff like that from him again.
I shook my head negatively.
"No, I'm more worried you'll wipe the floor with my pathetic ass since I haven't trained in quite a while. You know, being poisoned and nearly dying tend to put a strain on a training schedule," I tried to pass off as casual.
"And before?" he asked knowingly.
"Before, I was caught in all the drama and before that, the wards training, and before that, my OWLs...I know. I have not been nearly as assiduous as I could have been ever since...well...ever since I realised that I really didn't want to fight against you," I confessed.
"I am not the only potential enemy out there, Harry. It would be a shame for such a talented fighter to lose his ability because of some pointless excuse," he warned while praising me, making me unable to protest and causing me to just redden uncomfortably at receiving such a compliment from him.
"I am not sure what you were thinking about then, but a minute ago, I saw you look more serene and peaceful than you have in a very long time. You might be able to content yourself with Wards and research, Harry, and as much as it pleases me that you are not "all brawn, no brains", you do not crave knowledge like I do and you do not find the same satisfaction in furthering magical theory. Fooling yourself into thinking that you do will not lead you to be a well-rounded individual, only a scattered one," he said, imparting the wisdom of his illustrious age. Damn, but sometimes he made me feel like a blubbering child. I took the advice in, despite feeling somewhat bewildered that he decided to give it to me now. Perhaps he had been waiting for me to come to the conclusion that I really missed being physically in shape to swoop in with his comment.
I nodded at him in thanks, recognising that he was right in his conclusion.
"I would love to train with you, Marvolo, even if I know you'll make sure to humiliate me to hammer your point in as often as possible," I replied, unable to resist the smartass comment.
He swatted the back of my head.
"Brat," he called me, but there was an unmistakable fondness to it that made me bite back a small smile.
"I still want to do the Dark Magic intoxication research, you know, though," I reminded him after a moment.
"I can't see why you would not, really. I just thought it was indicated that I remind you of the joys of a more...active lifestyle," he said with a leering grin.
"I'm definitely...up for it," I shot him back with my own eager grin.
He snorted at the bad pun.
"Not too tired then, after yesterday? Poor delicate specimen, I thought I had broken you considering the sounds you made," he teased mercilessly.
I groaned and buried my face in my hands at the reminder, before snapping back at him.
"You should try coming back from near death to see how energetic you feel afterwards!" I defended my pride.
He lifted an eyebrow at me.
"I already did," he stated, unimpressed.
What? When did he nearly died? And who had...ah. Me. He had disappeared for a few months while everybody celebrated his death, only to come back stronger and saner to take the Wizarding World by assault again, this time more strategically; exploiting all his advantages, making beneficial agreements with magical creatures, bribing one, discrediting another, silencing a third, etc. No one knew where he'd been gone in those months but, according to the Rebels, he had wandered aimlessly as a wraith before managing to gain back a body magically...and no one knew why he had survived...
"You used a Horcrux to gain back a body!" I exclaimed as realisation struck me.
"I feel I should retract my earlier comment about your intelligence if it took you that long to understand the purpose of the soul pieces," he commented with a neutral voice.
"But...how does it work then? Every time you die, you can call another Horcrux to you and reabsorb it and you have your body back?" I asked.
"Not exactly. Not two Horcruxes are the same and, of them, only one had the capacity to drain someone's life force and magic to create a new body in flesh. This is why I regained the body of my teenage self when I came back sixteen years ago. I did have help from Lucius to find an appropriate target to drain, however," he explained.
"Lucius helped you come back to life? Lucius had one of your Horcruxes?" I exclaimed, surprised. Well, that certainly explained the honoured position he received in the Ministry after the Dark Lord's Victory. Still, it surprised me that he had voluntarily given a piece of his soul to one of his minions. That showed quite a lot of trust...and then I remembered the Locket that the Dark Lord had given me for safekeeping and that I still had to return in its drawer in Grimmauld Place and I remembered the off-handed comment he'd made when he gave it to me. Something like: "if I ever needed it, somebody would have it and could take the appropriate steps".
"You said that only one Horcrux had the capacity to produce a whole new body...what do the others do, then? How could one...bring you back with them if they don't create a body with it?" I asked, not very subtly.
"They are various rituals for that, most of them much too Dark for you to even contemplate performing them, if that's what you are asking about. I doubt that it would come to that, however, but I left directions the appropriate people if it comes down to that. And, to answer your other question, the Horcruxes don't have specific powers; they simply have different characteristics. They are all pieces of my soul, of various sizes. The earliest it was created, the most powerful. The diary that Lucius used was my first, which is why it was stronger than the others. If I reunited with the Locket now, I don't think it would have much consequence. I feel quite stable with the youngest and the oldest shards of my soul in me. I suspect that your presence at my side has a calming effect partly because of the second oldest part of my soul that you host," he explained, being more open on the subject that I thought he'd be. Wasn't it quite weird to talk about fractions of souls as if they were pieces of his identity that he had thrown away and imprisoned in various objects that he scattered around Britain, or the world? It felt a bit awkward to me, at least.
Before I could ask more on the subject of what I was supposed to do to help him with a Horcrux if I couldn't bring him back to life or who had the required instructions, Lucius came back from the Ministry, a pile of paper in his hands.
"I decided to go get the originals from the Unspeakables, in case the charmwork would reveal anything," he said, placing the papers in front of me.
I picked one up, read it, remembered it was those weird animal metaphors again, placed it down, looked outside at the sun shining and wondered how long it had been since I last went out.
"Harry, why don't you take those papers with you back in your room. Lucius and I still have planning to do," he said, the dismissal clear in his voice. If he hadn't just spent the last fifteen minutes revealing extremely delicate information to me, I might have felt as if I was treated like a child. As it was, I just wanted to go and digest the information in the sun, if I could reach the outside patio, that is.
"The war is coming, isn't it?" I asked, because that was probably part of why he wanted me to be able to fight again and what they had to plan today.
"There has always been a war coming. The target is not completely unexpected either.
-France?" I asked, just to make sure, despite the maps' telling evidence.
He nodded seriously, before specifying:
"France first, and probably the Muggles right after, unless we can keep the fight with France underground and indirect enough to fool them. That's the only reason why there hasn't been an official declaration of hostilities by now," he told me.
I furrowed my brows, thinking about it.
"I think you're right. Didn't you say that the Rebels might have an international ally? If the French are the ones providing the Muggles weapons and so on, and if they don't get how horrible a war against Muggle technology would be, then maybe they want to play with your fear of an all-out against Muggles to weaken your position in the ICW and bring the war down on you on both fronts," I suggested, even if I knew that what I was saying was probably nothing new.
Lucius looked surprised, however.
"I hadn't thought of the link between the rebels and the French. Since the Yule attack on their camp, everything has been so calm on their side that it was as if they had disappeared from my mind," he commented.
"What did the interrogations with the remaining Rebels gave anyway? I suppose you did them when I was recuperating?" I wouldn't be surprised if that was the case. I only hoped they hadn't been too harsh on them.
"It didn't reveal much, sadly, despite using Severus' handy new truth potion against Occlumens. The only one that knew slightly more was the Longbottom boy, but his comprehension of the facts was very muddled and we are left with nothing but conjunctures at this point," said Lucius.
That reminded me of something long overdue.
"As agreed upon before the raid, the Rebels who surrendered are my responsibility," I said cautiously. Both Slytherins narrowed their eyes at me suddenly, as if wondering what move I was about to pull.
"Are you denying me the right to interrogate them as I see fit?" asked the Dark Lord in a low voice.
I send him a small smile. He was always so quick to jump on the offensive.
"I could, since I think it was part of our agreement that I supervise them to make sure you wouldn't over do it. However, I also trust that you didn't forget about it, and that you wouldn't put yourself in a position where I could reproach you to not... fulfill your part of an agreement, considering what remains to be settled between us," I pointed out. I was pretty sure that Marvolo still kept the issue of the Honour's Duel at the back of his mind constantly when we were talking about delicate stuff. I thought that the point I brought up was valid. If I couldn't trust him with withholding his part of the deal in such a situation, how could I trust him in forfeiting the Duel?
For a moment, it looked as if he would be angry with me, but then, suddenly, he just threw his head back and laughed. Of a loud, deep, body-wracking laughter. It didn't last long, but, by the end of it, Lucius was also smiling indulgently at me.
"Oh, Lucius, I didn't think I would see the day when our little lion would try to put on a snake's skin. Did you hear him try to blackmail me?" he asked his Minister, who by now was chuckling at me too.
"Yes, my Lord, but, with all due respect, you encouraged it," remarked on Lucius.
"Oh, it was all part of my evil master plan, you understand," mocked the Dark Lord with a sardonic smile.
"I still found his performance somehow a bit lacking. Trying to suggest a behaviour by saying that you trust them to do something is such a typical strategy," commented Lucius.
"There is still much progress to do on the execution, I agree. But the thought was there, and with minimal effort on my part, I assure you," said Marvolo.
During their exchange, I just sat there, dumbfounded. Were they just...laughing at me? Both of them? And why? Because I had attempted to be vaguely cunning in how I presented my arguments?
I wanted to be insulted, but it was just so plain unexpected that I started to find it a bit funny too. What had I been going for? Subtlety? Cunning? With the Dark Lord?
Oh well, I shrugged mentally. I tried.
I coughed pointedly in a mocking imitation of Umbridge that made Lucius stiffen immediately. Good, I thought vindictively.
"My point, before you two start laughing at me again, is that I want to take responsibility for the Rebels captured, as we agreed upon beforehand, but that, while I do want to do something for them, I haven't recovered enough yet to go there and have extensive meetings with you and them to determine an eventual plan of social reinsertion and so on. I know someone, though, who I think could do it for me. I think it's time I put away old grudges I held against him and recognise that he's as trustworthy as they can get," I explained.
"Longbottom, I suppose," guessed the Dark Lord.
I nodded in answer.
"Is he also going to be your contact within the Weasley clan?" he asked, perceptive as always.
"I was getting to that," I answered. "I think that they are still dangerous. Personally, I also don't want to go back there in my current state, but I feel like tensions are running too high in their group at the moment to leave it stew for a month or so until I'm back at normal speed."
Marvolo sat back on his seat, visibly satisfied that he didn't have to convince me not to go back there. I knew he learnt of the Veritaserum incident when I was poisoned, and he wasn't willing to let me go back there as easily now. As possessive as he sometimes was, I was surprised that I didn't have to talk him out of handing in severe punishments for what happened. Perhaps he had more important things to deal with, with the war brewing and his preparations, after all.
"Where would the boy stay?" asked Lucius, interjecting in our discussion.
I frowned and thought for a moment. Remus' name came up in my head and refused to allow space for any other. I hadn't talked to him for quite a while, though. Maybe he would be happier if he got Neville to live with him instead of having to tutor me all the time. Those two were a lot more alike that I could ever be, I thought with a pang of envy.
I swallowed thickly.
"At Remus' place, I guess. He has a spare room, or at least, he used to have. He told me so, a few months ago," I told them, choosing not to address the fact that I hadn't taken him up on his offer or even ever gone to visit him outside of a tutoring environment. If it occurred to them, the two men didn't comment on it either, thankfully.
"I don't have a problem with it, but I will send someone to speak with Longbottom beforehand. To make sure he has...his facts straight on what is and isn't tolerated in my government," decided the Dark Lord.
I nodded distractedly, gathering up the papers in front of me.
The silence hung for a few seconds more before I felt like I had outgrown my welcome.
"Well, I'll leave you to it, then. Good luck with your planning," I wished them, extirpating myself from the comfy chair with difficulty and walking as normally as I could to the door, but ending up limping so much that I was nearly hopping. It was pretty pathetic.
But, by the Gods of Nature, if the Dark Lord had managed to get back on his feet after getting a whole body transplant, I'd be able to do it after being poisoned.
.
I was trudging up the corridor leading to the terrace, anticipating the sun eagerly, when I heard a gleeful cackle behind me.
Great. Bellatrix. Just what I needed right now.
"Ohhhh, itsy bitsy Potty is out of bed! What is he doing here all alone? Did he try to go see Aunty Bella?" she cooed, skipping over to stand in my way. Bellatrix had been, for the most part, obnoxiously happy since learning of her sister's pregnancy, and was at Malfoy Manor more often than not those days. What bothered me the most about it was that she seemed to find me cute and harmless now because I was weak from the poison. I'd take back the old animosity between us any day if it meant that she stopped treating me like a child.
"Bella, why don't you help Harry along? He seemed to be heading to the sun like us, unless I am mistaken?" asked Narcissa who glided along serenely despite the growing bulge of her stomach.
I felt my face grow red when Bellatrix, who was half a head shorter than me, pulled me strongly to her side and supported my weight with an iron grip. I didn't protest, however, because she was too insane to reason with, and because she was, ultimately, bringing me to my desired destination.
Once settled on a patio chair, lying down as I caught my breath, I felt at last the sun kiss my skin for the first time in a month. It had only weak winter rays, but just being outside again helped. The warming charms on the terrace kept the cold at bay.
I turned to Narcissa.
"How far along are you now?" I asked, to start the conversation before the awkward silence settled in.
"My due date is at the end of April, but Draco was born prematurely, so we are prepared for it to happen earlier than planned," she answered.
"There's really a link? If one is born before the due date, the others will as well?" I asked, revealing my lack of knowledge on the subject. Being a young gay man, and in an unstable, dangerous situation myself, I had never really given much thought about pregnancies or babies.
"No, not necessarily, but premature births are very common with the Blacks. Family lore tells us of a Lord Black a few centuries back who couldn't wait to have his heir and forced his wife to give birth before time. The story says that, since then, all Black children have been born prematurely.
-What kind of an asshole forces his wife to give birth before the baby is ready?" I exclaimed, disgusted.
Narcissa just shrugged indifferently.
"It's only a legend to explain a peculiar phenomenon. I retain from it that I will probably have an early birthing and Draco's seemed to support this theory," she said.
Bellatrix, who had stayed strangely mute during the exchange, spoke up with a strange voice full of grief and regret.
"I understand why that Lord Black took this decision. Something or someone must have threatened the baby, and he wanted to have it safe in his arms and take care of it by himself. Perhaps if it hadn't been so early in the pregnancy, I..." she trailed off, her eyes unseeing. Narcissa's baby was having a peculiar effect on her, sometimes making her ecstatic, and other times bringing her back to her own past and giving her nostalgic moods and guilty thoughts. I never knew how to react when it happened, and Narcissa only looked at her sister with commiseration.
I cleared my throat.
"So, did you think about names yet?" I asked, making Bellatrix gasp in shock for an unknown reason.
Narcissa shook her head.
"In the Old Families, it is considered bad luck to speak the name of the child before it is born. I will only say that Lucius has agreed to a Black name for his daughter and that I have chosen my favourite already," she informed me.
"By 'a Black name', you mean, a star name like Sirius and Bellatrix, or a constellation like Andromeda and Orion?" I asked, curious, wondering about the traditions Sirius had barely mentioned when I was living with him.
Bellatrix hissed nastily in answer.
"Stop asking questions! Do you wish to bring misfortune on the poor baby?" she accused nastily.
"Sorry, I didn't think it would do anything to give a hint," I apologised, knowing that faiths and beliefs were somewhat of a delicate subject in the Wizarding World. What you believed in was often in function of the family in which you grew up. That partly explained the adoption and 'patronage' program the Dark Lord had set up for the Muggleborns. If they believed in the same deities and forces than us, they were less likely to annoy the Purebloods and more likely to be integrated in our society, after all. At the Rebel Camp, I had grown up in a patchwork of beliefs that sometimes made me commit faux pas with old Pureblood families like now.
A House Elf appeared just when I realised that my throat was parched with all the effort it took to reach this place and I thanked it sincerely for bringing me a nice glass of fresh fruit juice.
"What about you, Harry? Do you foresee any children in the coming years?" asked Narcissa with a small smile on her pale face just as I was taking a big gulp of juice.
The absurd question surprised me so much that I coughed and choked on my juice, hovering between vomiting it or passing out of lack of oxygen for a moment before I could gulp it down and breathe again.
"Er, Narcissa, you do know whom I'm seeing at the moment, right?" I asked. She couldn't have missed it, surely?
"Of course, Harry, don't be ridiculous. That is precisely why I ask the question. Our Lord needs heirs. It is primordial that the Slytherin bloodline continues after him. Too many illustrious families have already been lost," she commented as if she hadn't asked the most ridiculous question I had ever heard.
"Right. I'm sure I can take a few gender-changing Potions and undergo some procedures to make myself a girl, and then maybe, Magic be willing, I'll be able to pop out kids for the Dark Lord," I said sarcastically.
Narcissa had a refined huff of frustration, as if I was being unreasonable.
"You know very well that a surrogate mother can be used in situations such as yours," she pointed out delicately.
"Don't you think that if he wanted heirs so badly, he'd already have used a surrogate mother, or donated sperm or something?" I replied. Seriously though, I had been with Marvolo for what? 6 months? And she was asking me the baby question?
"Watch your tone, Potter. I won't tolerate anyone disrespecting my Lord," warned Bellatrix.
What? I hadn't been disrespectful, this time. Or maybe making a baby with a sperm bank was considered...inappropriate in the Old Families? It wouldn't be the first time I'd learn of such customs way too late.
"I'm sorry if I offended you, but my objection is valid. If he really wanted heirs, he would have had them by this point," I pointed out logically.
Bellatrix scoffed but stayed silent. Narcissa had a sad smile.
"Perhaps he just hadn't found the right person until now," she suggested.
"Come on now. He's 71. You can't serve me some rubbish like 'he was waiting for you all his life'. I'm not that special. And I've been with the guy for maximum 6 months. Don't you think it's a bit early to talk about babies?
-On the contrary, I think it is quite revealing that in his long life, as far as we know it, our Lord has never gotten closer to someone else as he had with you. And, as you point out, after all those years, it is time for him to settle down and start a family, I would think, even if he still has at least a century to live, Magic permits," she said, touching her wand briefly to ward off bad spirits at the mention of a potential premature death for him.
I wasn't sure whether I should feel exasperated, or strangely touched by what Narcissa had said. It was the first time I had ever heard anybody refer to my relationship with the Dark Lord as a long-term, durable connection.
"I wouldn't want my children to be born in times of war," I declared, thinking of my situation. "I don't want them to potentially grow up as orphans because their parents were casualties of war."
Narcissa paused, placing a hand on her swollen belly. I felt bad for saying that when she was pregnant and would probably have a very young child during the upcoming war.
"Let me tell you something, Harry. You can never know when wars are going to start or finish. You can never completely plan your personal life in function of what will happen to the rest of the world. Of course, all parents want to give their children a peaceful world to grow up in, but you can never control those things. All you can do is try to offer them a stable and safe environment to grow up in to the best of your ability. You see, when I had Draco, war was still waging out there and it went on until he was four years old. However, he doesn't remember living through a war now, despite Lucius having been right in the thick of it. He grew up in peace, despite the climate in which he was born. And yes, it might not have been ideal, but looking at my son today, I know it was worth all the stress and the worrying for his safety. And I think it will be the same for my daughter," she said while rubbing her stomach affectionately. How I ever thought the woman cold and emotionless was a mystery.
Bellatrix, who had stayed quiet when her sister was speaking, suddenly got up and left. I frowned at her behaviour, wondering what had caused it, but Narcissa spoke up again.
"My sister and you are prime examples of why having children in times of war can lead to horrible situations. All I intend to do here is to bring a more nuanced perspective on the question. Take your time with our Lord, just don't discard the possibility because of your preconceived notions of what he wants. Perhaps he will surprise you. Lucius certainly did when he told me he wanted another child after 17 years," she advised.
Great. I ventured out of my room by myself for the first time in a month and I got two research projects, a promise of training with probably the most powerful wizard alive at the moment, a looming war and babies, of all things, to think about as a result.
The world outside my bedroom sure was a fascinating place.
.
o0o0o
The old wizard was standing before the tomb of his friend, reminiscing for a moment the good old times when they were fighting side by side to preserve the Light and when people understood that the measures they took were necessary for the Greater Good.
He didn't have to hide out like a criminal then; he could stride in the Ministry with his flaming red robes and the population would cheer for him, knowing that he was one of their bests, knowing that they could rely on him and sleep with both eyes closed...
The stone was modest. A simple round thing, lying on the ground beside others of the Dumbledore family. Only Albeforth remained of that noble lineage now. Good old Albeforth and his unhealthy attraction for goats. Catch him once in the act and you can hold that threat above his head for the rest of his life. Not that he personally cared about what the old man was doing with his livestock. Better animals than children, he always said, back in the days when he was part of the Auror force. Nobody laughed when he made that joke, for some reason.
The stone was grey, and of obviously bad quality. How ironic that this would be the resting place of one of the greatest wizards of the century. Moody had personally thought that, after the death of his old friend, the snake bastard would have made a monument celebrating his victory and Albus's defeat. He had counted on having to bear the sight of Riddle's gloating. He couldn't help but feel disappointed at what he saw. There was no acknowledgment of how fierce an enemy of the Dark regime Albus had been. No acknowledgment that he had nearly borne the weight of the old Ministry on his shoulders alone and that his death had meant the fall of the all the rest and the defeat of the Light.
This was a grave like all others. Utterly forgettable. There was only a passing mention of Albus' tenure as Headmaster of Hogwarts and also the inscription Minister per interim, 1981-1984. What a joke. Albus deserved so much more than this. If Riddle had put on a mandatory "Spit on Dumbledore's Monument Day", it would still have recognised his importance better than this.
And the worst is that Riddle's plan had worked. The Wizarding population today were not angry at Albus' role in History, or even at the Light. It was merely seen as a thing of the past. There had been no brainwashing, no propaganda against the old regime, only for the new one. People were forgetting that their world had ever been different. The only thing that remained was the vague impression that they were better off today than they had been before. The economy was booming; Britain was once more a pole of Magical Research and a pioneer in Mind Healing and education; They had had more than a decade of peace.
The whole thing was sickening. Just like Riddle's benevolent image was. And the sheep were accepting this, simply because the snake bastard wasn't sitting on a throne made of the skulls of his enemies and making volcanoes erupt everywhere. Should they also be grateful to him because he let the sun shine outside, now?
No, this was ridiculous. He had to be stopped.
"Albus, old friend, it's up to me to finish the task you'd set for yourself. I only wish you'd have shared your burden with me when you were still alive. I could've settled things much more easily then," he grumbled in the direction of the stone, even if he knew that his friend had passed on to join the Magic many years ago.
"I'm sorry, Albus, but it must be done," he added, before twirling his wand in an intricate pattern. Slowly, the weather-beaten stone lifted in the air and was put aside. A putrid stench rose to his apt nose, but he bore it with only a sneer. He began to slowly dismantle the new wards his action revealed.
The good thing with psychopathic Dark Lords is that they never learnt from their mistakes. Choosing an inconspicuous spot for hiding one's soul pieces was clever enough, but not when the significant location you chose comes from a well-known piece of your history. Granted, it had taken Moody years to even consider Albus' tomb as a potential site for a Horcrux, simply because it was so...obvious. According to his research, a Horcrux was not only difficult to create, but also to hide. You had to choose places that were significant enough for the piece you shattered to feel at ease there, or else, you would feel discomfort and a relentless itch until you changed it to an appropriate location.
To say that Moody had been overjoyed when he learnt that particular piece of information in Albus' notes was an understatement. It made his task a lot easier than if some of the Horcruxes could have been hiding, for instance, in a box meters deep in the sand of a desert that had absolutely no link with his enemy. Or even in a hidden cave in the middle of a mountain somewhere in Scotland.
Still, the location could be of particular importance to someone without having been the theater of a significant event in one's life. What if the Dark Lord had been an avid apple eater in his youth and had dreamt of one day going to an orchard in the other side of town? Then, perhaps the place would have retained a particular importance to him because it would have been the first example of something he had ardently wished for and finally obtained. Perhaps even that any orchard could have done. Nobody could have ever guessed or found that location if that had been the case.
But well, bless Magic for the snake face's predictability, he thought as he slashed his wand downwards with finality and the wards crashed around him. The other advantage of Riddle having chosen an inconspicuous public location was that he couldn't keep dangerous guardians to protect his treasure like the Inferi in that thrice blasted cave. He had lost a good man that day, and that family had never been the same afterwards, although that could also be attributed to his botched memory charms. He had never been the best at memory modification anyway.
He mentally shrugged as he focused back on his task. He eyed the rests of his friend with distaste and searched for the Horcrux.
There! He recognised the old Gaunt ring his men had failed to retrieve about a year ago. The snake bastard had placed it on Albus' ring finger, in a parody of a Muggle bonding band. In Albus' right hand was his old wand. It was considered a sign a respect to bury a wizard with his wand. It was an acknowledgment in itself that Riddle had chosen Albus' grave to hide a fragment of his soul, but if he also let him keep his wand, it meant that Riddle was at least willing to recognise Albus' strength.
One point for the snake bastard, I guess, thought Moody.
Always vigilant, he took all the precautions in the world to disable alarms, curses, hexes and even checked for Muggle explosives (a weapon with which he was getting increasingly comfortable, thankfully), he finally had the ring Horcrux in his possession. That is to say, in a completely isolated container where it's perverse magic wouldn't enter in contact with his for even a second.
He went to leave the grave and repower the wards when his magical eye caught sight of Albus's wand again. He was just a kid when Albus defeated Grindelwald, but he remembered that this wand had belonged to the old Dark Lord before. Why would Albus have taken it for his own, if it didn't have incredible value? Perhaps it was particularly powerful, in which case it would be quite useful for his noble quest.
As it so happened, he knew just the wizard to answer his questions. Moody had been planning to pass by and say hello for a while, after all, and this would be the perfect pretext.
Always vigilant, the old auror disabled any remaining curse around the wand and snatched it up, immediately feeling that it was a very special wand indeed. The only problem, however, was that it felt strangely cold in his palm. Maybe the wizard will have an explanation about that as well.
Moody carefully re-powered the wards and Disapparated from the graveyard with a twist and a popping sound.
Now, about that snake...
...
That wasn't a cliffy, was it?
So, lots of subjects in this chapter: Harry's ward research, the imminent war with France, the previously forgotten paper planes, Neville and Remus, the future of Harry and the Dark Lord's relationship and babies, of all things. And then, as if it wasn't enough, grave-robbery!
Next chapter should be pretty interesting because there will be...a fight! *gasp*
Thank you in advance for reviewing and letting me know what you thought of this chapter! :D