Here it is! Victory Day, part two of four. I should post the part three around Friday.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed! I really appreciate your support! :D

Guest reviews:

SharonT: Here it is, as promised! ;)

BadGirlGoneWorse: Poor Crouch? Don't you mean...poor Harry?

Guest: I'm not exactly sure what you are asking for. You want someone to translate this story so that you can read it? You can't access the last two chapters for one reason or another? Maybe if you want people to help you translate, you can create an account and then people will contact you privately? It would also help if you said in which language you need it translated...

renshiro: You know what? That's what I had planned at first, and then I went for something else entirely, but maybe you picked on some clues I left of my original plan. I hope you will like it the way it is at the moment regardless ^^ I also hope that this chapter will give you some solutions to your puzzles. ;)

Disclaimer : I don't own Harry Potter.

Warnings: Mature themes and violence

Chapter 51 : Victory Day, part two

I pivoted around, my fists up and in a battle stance before the door was completely closed, but any progress I could have done in that direction was hindered by Crouch's grinning presence.

"As I am sure you have noticed by now, Lucius is sadly absent at the moment. The Dark Lord has conveniently summoned him away for last minute preparations for...the big day," he explained. "Just my luck" he added with a snarky grin.

My eyes scanned the room rapidly once again, evaluating the dangers in the room. Various forms of restraints, whips... and sex toys. Not exactly the usual gear for an interrogation room.

Unless under this regime it is common... I clenched down the thought before it could form itself.

"You came earlier than expected, and for a different reason, but no matter, the conundrum of how to get you to rush to the Ministry like the Gryffindor you are was settled either way, " he continued.

"Why did you want me to come here? Does the Dark Lord know about this?" I asked, dread growing in the pit of my stomach as my eyes slid inexorably toward the bed despite myself.

"Oh, I imagine he does, after all, we are both here now and he hasn't come to fetch his wilful pet yet. Oh, you might say it's a bit early to expect him to have noticed your absence, but the tracking charms he most likely put on you have probably notified him the second you left Malfoy Manor today and I should think that my arm would have at least burnt if he had something against what I planned for today. Perhaps he approves of it? I promise to return you to him in one piece at the end of our time together if you beg prettily... That is to say, if he still wants you after I am done" he said, a malicious smile stretching his mouth and lighting his eye with a deranged twinkle.

"I will never beg! Not for anyone and certainly not for you!" I spat at him, tightening my fists in anger.

"We will see about that," said Crouch before creeping closer to me.

I stepped to the side, quick on my feet, thinking of possible escape routes. There were no windows, no obvious ventilation shafts, the only door was long closed and the walls looked too thin to be burst with my wandless magic. Since this was used as an interrogation room, the walls and the doors would probably also be reinforced with various spells and wards, but I didn't have the time to stop and analyse them.

"There is no exit, obviously. The room was designed for containment purposes, after all," confirmed Crouch with a knowing smirk and another step forward.

My eyes continued their relentless search for possible escape routes and objects that could be used at my advantage. I had my emergency backpack with me, but I was hesitant to take it off, despite the knife that was in it. After all, if I brought a knife into the fight, I could also lose control of it and effectively give my opponent a deadly weapon that could be used against me.

No, I would let the knife in the backpack for as long as possible. I also had a practice wand in it, but, as its name indicated, it was a wand that was purposely not well fitted to me and I would probably fare better using my wandless magic than trying to force some result out of it. Nothing said that the wand would not work better for Crouch, however, and if I brought my backpack to attention, then I risked giving a wand to Crouch as well and tipping the scale dramatically to his advantage.

I kept a cautious glance on the other occupant of the interrogation room as we slowly circled each other. I had known that the man wanted me and was not completely sane, but this was far more sinister than I had suspected. My eyes drifted involuntarily to the toys again and a visceral fear churned in my stomach despite my Occlumency shields and my resolve not to focus on them. After all, this room had been equipped for something very specific in mind. I could not even think this was a disgusting interrogation technique under the Dark Lord's regime because there clearly lacked of knifes and other torture instruments that could have been useful to my escape. I clenched my fists and jaw in apparent anger, but it served to hide my disgust and fear. I had not been prepared for such a scenario.

He seemed to feel that I was destabilised at that moment, because he suddenly crossed the space between us and I was left backing rapidly. I kicked out, aiming to dislocate his knee, but he dogged and did a small wave with his hand. I felt something knock me off my feet and fell abruptly on the hard floor. Panicking, I jumped back up as quickly as I could, but he tackled me in the wall where I collided painfully and lost my breath. My head was hazy with panic and I tried to hit him in the ribs and push him off, but he caught me off guard by crashing his lips against mine and pushing his tongue in my mouth in a bruising and invading parody of a kiss. My mind went still for a moment, and then its gears sluggishly restarted and a wave of anger rose from my stomach and cleared the panic away. I went to bite his tongue out, but he immediately released my mouth and he bashed my head back in the wall with his right hand. Dizzy, I barely felt the restraints curl around me suddenly and tie me to the wall. I struggled against them and tried to kick Crouch again, but the monster had backed off to let the ropes do their work.

"Crouch," I seethed. "Release me immediately. The Dark Lord will have your head when he learns of what you are trying to do."

He laughed at my attempt to threaten him. Obviously, my pathetic performance in our "fight" did not pose me as a powerful enemy. Did my lack of training those past months really dull my fighting ability so much? I felt myself burn with shame. Crouch should have been on the ground with a few broken limbs already. At the very least, it should not be me all tied up on a cell's wall.

"I am sorry to tell you so, my dear, but the Dark Lord might not be in any position to make me suffer even one more of his Crucios anymore. You see, we are monitoring him very closely today," he said, tapping his ear once before he continued. "And it seems like he has decided to cut off his losses short instead of coming here to rescue his poor trapped pet. Plan B, then. I prefer that one anyway. They have something really big planned for Plan B, and it's the one in which I get to keep you..." he said, his voice trailing off as his leering eyes made me shiver in disgust and indignation.

Then, something he said clicked in my head.

"You have allied yourself with the enemy, Crouch? You have sold us off. You are even more of a scum than I thought," I hissed out, furious both at his implication that he could "keep me" and that the Dark Lord could be put out of power.

Crouch laughed and came closer to me until his torso was barely brushing mine. His nose went to nozzle my neck. I tried to head-butt him but he grabbed my hair and pulled my head back, exposing my throat. I gritted my teeth at the distracting pain and shuddered at the tongue that was disgustingly diving in my ear and at the caressing hand that settled on my hip.

I bucked against him as much as the ropes allowed me and tried to shake him off my neck. I did manage to make him stop touching me, but he didn't move as far away as I hoped he would.

He shook his head at me in mock disappointment. I snarled back at him. Distract him, make him talk, I thought. Anything to stop whatever he had in mind for me.

"You see, pet, this is something I never really understood. The only thing the Dark Lord ever did for you is fuck you. He killed your family and countless people with whom you have grown up. Is your loyalty to your people really worth so little that you would sell it to the first that wanted of you?

"I think you are confusing me with you, Crouch," I pointed out. For my efforts, I received a sharp backhand that scattered my thoughts for a moment. I could take the pain, though. It was much more bearable than his slimy self leaching on me.

"How dare you! I have given years of my life to the Dark cause, fought countless battles for my Lord. And for what? A miserable Head of the DMLE position? Barely an annoyed glance in passing when I spend years working relentlessly to create new useful spells for him, risking my life constantly to push the boundaries of Magic!" he said, ranting and pacing the floor in front of where I was tied. I was just glad he had backed off momentarily.

"He promised me the world at my feet! He promised me a place of choice at his side! And after all of those years of fervent devotion, I still barely get a glance in my direction! And Lucius is practically a family friend by now, as close to being a confidante as..." he paused suddenly in his rant, his hands still in mid-air before he turned slowly to me. I watched him in silence, hoping both to gain some time to work on eroding the magic behind the ropes and to learn more on the situation.

"And you! You! A child! Barely out of puberty! You swoop in and suddenly nothing else exists for him. I don't even get the glances anymore! It's all about you! It's always about Harry Potter!" he shouted in a mocking voice. "You are nothing! Look at how easy it was for me to catch you! You are not his equal and you will never be! I am! I am the only one strong enough to be with him!"

I narrowed my eyes at him in thought. Something did not quite match here. If he didn't care about me and just wanted Marvolo's attention, then why did he went through all that trouble just to get me captured? Why didn't he just kill me already?

"You love him," I blurt out incredulously, interrupting his monologue.

He barked out a laugh at my intervention before he turned to me and shook his head condescendingly.

"Love is for children like you. What I feel is deeper, ingrained in my very being. I sacrificed everything I was for him. Don't you get it? I had it all! A loving mother, a caring, albeit distant and strict father, more money than I could ever need, a brilliant career in the Ministry lined up for me, not through my father's influence, but through my brilliance. I got 12 OWLs, did you know? 'Brightest wizard of the century' they called me. And then I saw him. I still remember the day...

24th of August 1978. It had been an unusually cold and rainy everyday for a week. As a result, my mother had caught an horrible cold from which she would never really recover and my father was too busy at the Ministry with the disappearances to accompany me when I went to Diagon Alley to fetch my school books for the upcoming year..." he paused for a moment, his gaze turning melancholic before he continued. Anything to get him distracted worked for me, so I decided to distractedly listen to his tale as I tried to focus on eroding the magic of the ropes. It seemed that they hadn't been conjured and that made them more robust than I had hoped. I would need every second of nostalgia I could get from Crouch.

"A light drizzle was shrouding the Alley in a cloud of mystery. The few customers remaining were hurrying from one porch to the other rubbing their hands to bring back some warmth to them. I had resolved to hurry to the bookstore and be done with this horrible weather when I suddenly saw a group of wizards strolling in the Alley as if they owned the place. They walked in step, stoic, seemingly unaffected by the cold that was seeping through the clothes and cutting to the bone. They were beautiful and strong, and at their head was gliding the most fascinating wizard I had ever seen in my life. The air around him was shimmering, pulsating with his Magic, his intelligent eyes saw everything, analysed his environment like mine had done for as long as I could remember. This man was the only one I could ever respect, the only one worthy of receiving the products of my genius, of all my promising potential. I attracted his eye. I had his complete attention for a seemingly endless second after which he lifted a noble eyebrow and quirked a smile in my direction. Then, our gazes broke because the door of the bookstore opened and distracted me for a moment. When I looked back at him, the group had disappeared. I ran to where they had been a second before, trying to find out where they had gone and if I could follow them, but instead I only found one black feather lying on the ground, completely dry despite the rain. I bent down and picked it up. On it, a message was written,

'Find me when you are ready to say goodbye to a life of mediocrity. To join the deathly Flight.'

From that moment on, I had found my way. Or I thought so, at least. I thought I would show my ambitious father that I could accomplish more than him and, ironically enough, I am stuck in the very position he occupied 'til his death by my hand, " narrated Crouch, laughing bitterly at the end.

I frowned at him uncomprehendingly.

"You don't particularly want me, do you? It's the Dark Lord you're after," I pointed out.

He barked out another laugh and leered at me for a second before he huffed.

"You are attractive, but not enough to make me risk so much to get you," he said, coming back towards me. He gripped my chin firmly and angled my head from side to side, scrutinising me. I narrowed my eyes at him, but did not react otherwise. My mind was busy thinking over his little tale to find other questions to ask him and gain some time to be able to finish cutting off the restraints. I did not want to risk him going back to his earlier behaviour.

"Why would you risk your revered Lord's approval by aligning yourself with the Rebels...or even the French, then?" I asked.

"Oh, I am not aligned with them. My only contribution in their hare-brained scheme is to keep you busy here when they try to kill my Lord. Which, of course, shouldn't succeed if he is as powerful as he makes himself to be. If he is still powerful enough to deserve my place at his side. And that remains to be seen," he said distractedly as he was continuing his scrutiny of my features.

I tried to answer, but he clenched my jaw painfully and I had to focus on not crying out in response. He would like that too much.

"As for what I intend to do with you, before you interrupt again with one of your idiotic questions, is to understand what exactly makes you somehow special to him. There must be something on or in you somewhere that justify such a disproportionate interest from him. And I will find it. Even if I have to cut you in minuscule pieces to find out," he said before he suddenly released my jaw. He went in a corner and pulled out a long knife from a hidden compartment. My heart rate picked up dramatically. That knife changed the balance of power quite drastically.

"Crouch, what the heck? Are you crazy? If you really want the Dark Lord's attention so much, you shouldn't hurt me!" I tried to reason with him, recoiling from the sharp tool that had made my position even more dangerous than before. As time passed in this cell, it seemed like Crouch was growing more and more agitated and with it, the strange light in his eye burnt with a disturbing intensity.

"I will find out what you have that makes him fascinated and I will take it and then, he will notice me again, like he did that first day," he answered, his face once again lit up by madness as he advanced on me.

"If you kill me you will never know what makes me special, Crouch," I tried to say to distract him because I was nearly done cutting the ropes, but still needed to buy some time.

It partially worked because he paused to admire the blade and make it glint in the dim lights of the cell. It was about 15cm long and it looked very sharp. It made me think of my knife in my backpack. Why the heck hadn't I taken it out when I had the chance? I could have used my Invisibility Cloak as well...

"Now, where to start?" he asked himself, the knife getting dangerously close to my face, leaving me to plead to Magic to blast him off, or give me some time to cut off my restraints at long last.

"You don't like that mad ex-Auror Moody, do you? I heard that you practically grew up with him, though. I bet you always wanted to look like him, secretly. Maybe I should help you realise that dream. What would you say to that, love?" he whispered before he brought his knife right in front of my left eye. I close it and held still, my breath coming in small gasps despite my best efforts to stay calm. I really didn't want to end up with just one eye like Moody.

A loud knocking reverberated in the room, surprising both Crouch and me. Crouch's hand drifted to the left and the knife made a deep cut on the side of my face. I felt a sharp burn as the blade shallowly sliced my skin and warm blood trickled at the side of my face. I sighed silently when Crouch left me there to prowl to the door and growl out:

"This isn't what we had agreed on. This is Plan B! I am not to be bothered until at least this evening!"

A voice with a heavy accent came from the other side of the door:

"Iz ze subject secure? 'E cannot attack us?"

"Of course he is, who do you t...

"Stand clear of the door," cut him off the French in the corridor. Sensing a new shift in the balance of power, I hurriedly directed more magic in cutting the ropes holding me in place while Crouch was distracted. To my bottomless relief, I felt them give in at last. I considered for a moment to sprint to the hidden compartment on the other side of the cell where Crouch had take his knife, but I didn't know if he had put other weapons in there. It was also possible that some knifes would be hidden in different corners and accessible only to his magical signature so I held myself in place, the ropes seemingly untouched while I waited to see what would happen. My hands twitched restlessly as I forced down the urge to wipe the blood my face. I could already feel the warm liquid trickling down my throat and sticking to my clothes. Not to mention that the damn cut burnt like hell.

The door opened with force and slammed on the wall next to it. Two wizards in the red Auror robes barged in, Muggle guns in their hands, one pointing at Crouch and the other at me.

"What do you think you are doing? This wasn't what we agreed on!" protested Crouch, incensed.

"Yes, yes, Monsieur Crounch. I am well aware of your...intentions," said one of them with a disdainful sneer in my direction. "However, it seemz that, in regard to ze Dark Lord's decizion to go along wit ze ceremonies as planned, the 'igh powers 'ave decided zat ze subject must be eliminated as rapidly as possible to avoid any complications in ze processus of taking down ze main target. We will proceed with plan B normally, but we cannot afford to risk ze Dark Lorde 'aving a safeguard against what we are planning just because you fancy your...urges more important zan our mission."

Having dismissed me as tied up and powerless, they both turned on Crouch. I felt slightly vindicated that the traitor would be betrayed, but my situation was not much better than when I was alone with Crouch. However, despite their guns, I felt more comfortable engaging in a combat with them because I knew that they only wanted to kill and not torture, rape or dissect me. Crazy people were more unpredictable than those under strict orders, after all.

As it was, Crouch was getting visibly agitated at the odds as two French dressed as Aurors tried to make him leave the room. It didn't seem to work. Crouch refused to hand me over, apparently. It made me feel so special.

"It is regrettable, but I 'ave the permission from ze 'igher ups to take you down if you reveal yourself uncooperative, Monsieur Crounch," said the one on the left, pulling the trigger suddenly.

The detonation echoed in the room, making my ears ring. I did not wait to see the result of the blow and took advantage of their distraction to shrug off the remains of my restraints and slip off my backpack, hurriedly retrieving my Invisibility Cloak and my knife before putting it back on and sneaking toward the entrance. I kept an eye on the fight, which was not going well for either party. The first gunshot had apparently only chipped off Crouch's shoulder, but he was now profusely bleeding, one arm hanging uselessly to the side. One of the French was down with the crazy knife that had threatened me earlier now embedded in his throat. The other was struggling against a whip that was slowly strangling him while Crouch was pummeling him to the ground as best he could with only one arm and a red pool rapidly forming around them.

I hesitated for a moment on the threshold of the room, wondering if I should help or finish off either of them or really ought to trap them in the room before someone came with reinforcements. In the end, cold logic won and I stepped out of the room, the door having been left carelessly open by the two Aurors. In the corridor, it was strangely silent. The remaining two bulky Aurors stood in front of one of the doors, seemingly unaware of their colleagues dying in mine. I guessed that the silencing wards must be working even with the door open. Still, I closed the door rapidly, not wanting a potential survivor to reveal my escape to their accomplices.

At the movement, the two guards turned to look at my cell, probably looking for their fellow henchmen. They exchanged a wary glance when they didn't see anyone in the corridor with them.

"What d'you reckon they're doing in there?" grunted the one furthest from where I was standing. That one didn't sound French at all.

The other chuckled in a deep voice.

"I reckon they wanted a taste for themselves. You know what they say 'bout those French. All of them' fairies," he said, spitting on the ground disdainfully.

The first frowned in the direction of the room in which I had been held.

"I dunno. I think we oughta check everything's following the plan..." he started, only to be cut off by the other.

"You a bloody faggot yerself, Doug? The wife'd be happy to learn that, m'sure."

The newly dubbed Doug frowned again, but visibly decided that his desire to do his job well was outweighed by that of wanting to keep his indubitable status of straight man.

For my part, I was relived that they decided to leave my cell alone, regardless of the reason. I was about to move upstairs to escape the lower level when the one closest to me talked again.

"'Sides, we got a pretty nice piece of tits in our cell. If they sampling, we can too. Ain't no problem with that," he said.

Doug didn't look convinced.

"You crazy, Joe? That witch is bonkers, that she is! She'll blow you up, and not in the right way, in the bloody way!"

"She's all tied up anyway. And she's got no wand, she can't be doing her spells and whatnot. You know wha' I think? I think you some bloody faggot, Doug, just like they is. Nobody ought to pass on some piece of arse delivered to you like that, I tell ya," Joe said, spitting on the ground.

Doug, who apparently was not averse to cheating on his wife to prove his indisputable heterosexuality, readily approved of the plan. He took out his keys and unlocked the door they had been guarding so carefully.

I stayed frozen in place, unsure of how to proceed. On one hand, it would be a perfect chance for me to escape up the corridor without having to worry about the guards spotting me. On the other, given what I had narrowly escaped myself, I was extremely reluctant to let some poor woman suffer when I could intervene. I looked down at my trusty knife and thought of my blasted useless wand sceptically, but forged ahead anyway. This interrogation room, like the one I had been in, did not let any sound escape the threshold, regardless of if the door was still open or not. Unluckily for me, these guards had taken the precaution of closing and, as I soon learnt after trying to open it, locking the door. I could only throw a desperate look inside the cell before attempting to pick the lock, hoping that by some miracle, the girl would be able to fend off her opponents long enough for me to come to her help.

As it is, my short look at the opening in the door turned into a flabbergasted stare as I watched the woman in question use her shackles as a hold to throw her legs around Doug's neck and bring him down with a sharp twist of her hips. The hulk of a man crumpled to the ground, his neck bent at an unnatural angle. Joe, furious, hurled himself at her, only to be dealt with a vicious kick that broke his knee and made him kneel in pain in front of her. I understood the strategy pretty quickly and felt grudging respect for that woman that I never really liked as I saw her deliver a mean blow to the guard's temple with her knee and take down her second opponent with her hands tied above her head and no magic.

I turned my attention to the lock now that the danger was mostly neutralised and was soon rewarded for those long hours when Sirius had desperately tried to convert me to pranking by the click of the lock giving in.

I opened the door to the cell to find Bellatrix stamping on the second guard's neck, which emitted a sickening crunch. Her head snapped up at the sound of the door and she gave my ruffled appearance and the bleeding gash at the side of my head a single glance before she turned her head to the side disdainfully and huffed around her gag. She would probably have shrieked if it weren't for it. Or maybe not, I thought, as I took in her serious and analytical stare boring on me.

Not wanting to ponder her current behaviour any longer, I went about to find the keys the guards had when they entered. Doug had placed them on a hook by the door. I grabbed them quickly and hurried back to Bellatrix, needing to get closer to her than I wanted to unlock them. I glanced at her face, inches away from mine. We exchanged a weird wordless look as I forced myself to focus on my task before someone came enquiring after the guards. The shackles soon fell off and she ripped off her gag immediately, throwing it on the floor with the guards. She then proceeded to kick off whatever sparkle of life had remained in their bodies. I let her proceed, nearly wishing I could have done the same to Crouch but shivering at the thought of going back into that cell, and headed back to the entrance of the room, checking on the situation outside in the corridor. Everything was still clear, but I didn't count on being so lucky for long. I threw a nervous glance at my cell door again. What if Crouch or the other guard had managed to survive? When I looked back at Bellatrix, she was searching in the guards pockets. I guessed that she was searching for weapons and went to help her. After a moment, we exchange another meaningful look, still not saying anything. The guards both had guns, but they did not have any wands. Why did they have Muggle weapons and nothing else? Where was their wand?

Bellatrix shot me another look when she saw me check the charger of the gun and pocket it. She took the one she had found with affected nonchalance and awkwardly gripped it. After a second of contemplation, her face twisted in a disgusted scowl and she threw it back on the ground in disdain. I turned my back to her, ready to head out of the room when I felt her hand fall on my shoulder heavily. I glanced back at her.

"Potty. I would have managed to get out on my own," she said shortly, stoically.

I stared for a moment, not really knowing how to answer, and nodded. She had already beaten them up and would have freed herself probably just as easily. I just sped up the process. If she knew how embarrassingly easy it had been for Crouch to immobilise me, she wouldn't feel the slightest bit ashamed of how she handled herself. I wasn't about to tell her, though. No reason to give her more reasons to mock me.

The issue settled with my awkward nod, she dropped her hand and leaned out to look at the corridor next to me.

"It's clear. I say we get the fuck out of here before shit hits the fan," I blurt out hurriedly, still feeling on edge from my earlier encounter.

"Potty, your subpar vocabulary does not shed appropriate lighting on our current situation. I shall not enquire as to the nature of this 'fan' you are talking of. We need a plan to escape the facility. It would not do to simply dash up and hope for the best," she said haughtily. So, Bellatrix was back in all her splendour.

I rolled my eyes mentally at her grandiloquent language but did not say anything about it.

"We can use this," I suggest, holding up my Invisibility Cloak.

"And what? You suggest we both stumble around awkwardly, plastered against each other as we try to crawl our way out of this situation? My sister is giving birth right now and I need to be there! So hurry up and find a better plan!" she urged, annoyed.

.

Five minutes later found us "crawling" under my Cloak, stepping on each other toes clumsily every few steps. We came to a stop next to the last interrogation room before the stairs heading to the Department, clearly needing to rethink our strategy. Nervously, I checked in the room to see if we could go inside to discuss more openly than in the corridor.

My heart skipped a beat in surprise at the sight of the unmistakable platinum blond hair.

"Draco?" I asked out loud, making Bellatrix spin around abruptly and elbow me in the ribs on the way.

As if he sensed our invisible gazes on him, the boy in the cell lifted his head suddenly to look at who was standing in front of his cell.

The bruised face of my friend was unmistakable and the sight made both Bellatrix and I stir in fury.

They would pay.

.

o0o0o

Remus, Neville and the Weasleys had decided to go to the customary Victory Day parade. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that they received another politely worded missive instructing them to be there, or else. Remus personally hadn't seen the letter, but the Weasley twins had insisted on its existence, so they all dutifully and warily showed up to the ceremony on time. Because of certain rumours saying that the Dark Lord would make an important announcement that day, the crowd was even bigger than the usual Victory Day crowds. Everyone wanted to be there when the news would go out.

It had been quite a long time since he had gone to a Victory Day parade. He had been "strongly encouraged" to attend in show of good faith all these years ago when he had defected from the Rebellion. He had found it disappointing. Not that he thought he would be impressed by the Dark Lord's speech, but he had found the ceremony grandiose and emphatic...and overall shallow and insipid. Only the speech had been interesting, in a way, as he could see how cleverly the Dark Lord was walking a fine line between appearing almighty and clement.

He had not returned since then and the Dark Lord had been content to let Remus fall back in the shadows, as long as he didn't cause any trouble. And for the most part, Remus had stuck to his word. He had found a job as a tutor for a group of pre-Hogwarts rich Purebloods and kept his head low for years. When Nymphadora, bright smiles and sunny disposition had come to find him, he had effectively numbed himself out of any ambition or ideology he had held dear before and went about his life in a hazy cloud of routines, late nights and coffee-filled mornings.

She had brought him back to life.

When he was chosen as Harry's tutor, he had been elated...and then horrified. His best friends' son, the boy he had considered his for years, had changed. He was not what Remus expected him to be. From time to time, he'd see some glimpses of James in a smile, or of Lily in his intelligent eyes, but mostly, his behaviour was off. How could he even begin to describe what he felt when he realised the sort of people who surrounded Harry at the time? How could he express his thoughts when he realised to whom belonged the odour that was always clinging on his honorary son like a second skin? Still, his position was precarious and he kept silent. Until Harry got nearly killed at the New Years party and he couldn't hold his mouth shut anymore. And he had shouted. And the look of betrayal in Harry's eyes, in Lily's eyes, had been too much to bear with. And he had left, heart shredded in pieces soaked in guilt and shame and disappointment. He should have been glad that Harry chose to live however he pleased and make his own choices. He should have been glad that his honorary son had managed to find some happiness in his life despite the difficult cards Fate had dealt for him.

But he hadn't been. And it had resulted in terrible months of writing apologetic letters and tearing them down in self-pity. His only news of Harry came with the morning Prophet and heaping load of gossips and lies. Harry was still with the Dark Lord. "An unprecedented feat," the newspaper had said. Remus rather thought that if anyone could manage it, it was Harry. One day, the gossips came with a picture of Harry and the other. They had shown up together for a ceremony or another and the shot was taken towards the end of the night, when both had been unusually relaxed. They were both holding a glass of wine and talking lowly together until Harry threw his head back and laughed, the other looking on with a pleased smirk on his face. Harry had looked so happy on the picture that Remus had kept it and was now carrying it around in his wallet. He had thought of tearing the other out of the picture, but somehow, it didn't seem fair to Harry, so he had just folded it back and placed it Harry-side up.

If he had decided to go with the Weasleys that day, it was for a chance to get a glimpse of Harry again. To see if he was as happy as his picture had shown him to be. So, his heart dropped and his guts coiled in warning when the Dark Lord's parade chariot entered his field of vision and he realised that Harry wasn't at his side. Remus couldn't help but think that they had known how much he was looking forward to see his cub again and had decided that Harry would sit this one out just to spite him. He shook his head to get rid of those poisonous thoughts. He wasn't usually this self-centered.

The Dark Lord looked exactly the same as ever to him. Maybe he looked a bit more angry than usual in the circumstances, but an angry Dark Lord was just the natural state of things, wasn't it? Remus guessed that the look he was going for was serious, solemn, even. Talks of a war of France had been circulating around for quite a while now, and no one had paid more attention to it than their group. Fleur would likely be deeply affected if it came to pass, after all.

Slowly, with the grace of a much younger man, the Dark Lord climbed out of his chariot and up the stage. He was alone. From what Remus had heard, that was a first. The Dark Lord always had at least Malfoy, if not Crouch or one of the Lestranges at his side. Now, all the Death Eaters were standing at the left of the stage, in their robes and elegant versions of the masks that used to strike such fear in the heart of the Wizarding world.

The Dark Lord stood before his adoring crowd for a moment, his eyes scanning it nonchalantly as he let the praise and acclamations wash over him, a small smile stretching his lips on one side. Then, he opened his mouth, drew a breath in and the crowd abruptly calmed down with a captivated gasp.

His smooth voice, amplified by a spell that no one had seen being cast, reached everyone present as if he was standing directly in front of them, as if he was talking to them individually, instead of addressing a crowd.

"My dear citizens, I will start on a positive announcement, as any speech on this joyful day should not start in another way, despite the shadows that might threaten to darken it. Today, I stand alone on this stage without my loyal Minister because the gods of Nature have decided to further bless this day with another victory, this time of a more personal nature. Indeed, by the end of this day, Magic be willing, the noble bloodline of the Malfoys will gain another member, thus bringing a precious contribution to our small, but strong community. Please join me in wishing the best for our Minister and his soon-to-be-born daughter," he said, before taking out his wand.

"For those who do not know the blessing, please follow my lead. Lift your wand hand in the air, place the other on your heart and make small circles with your wand while thinking of the wishes for protection and happiness that you want to send to the Malfoys," he instructed, his own wand lifted emitting waves of Magic that were so powerful Remus could nearly see it, despite his lack of training in the Sight. Soon enough, everyone joined in and the air became charged with wild, euphoric Magic that made quite a few burst in spontaneous laughter or start group hugs. Remus himself couldn't remember feeling so peaceful. The wolf in him was practically purring in contentment. He was just barely aware that the Dark Lord had started to talk again and he registered the words absent mindedly as he thought of going to introduce himself to the Dark Lord after the ceremony to talk about his plans for Harry and whichever colour they would choose for their wedding ceremony. They had quite a few families to honour, after all, and the green of the Slytherin bloodline surely would clash with the crimson of the Potter, not to mention the burgundy of the Blacks...

"...So, it is with regret that I must inform you of the premature death of the French magical President, who succumbed to an attack led by radical factions allied with the remnants of the British rebels. As a former friend of the late President, I mourn his premature death and swear to stay true to his vision as, following his last will, I take the reigns of magical France. It is with the best of intentions that I will start the process of taming the factions responsible for his assassination and re-establish order in the political and economical landscape of the country. I will endeavour to make the process as painless and bloodless as possible. My deepest gratitude goes to my loyal militia who have pledged unanimously their help to my goals. Thanks to them and to you, my dear citizens, we can all rest tonight with the conviction that, despite all troubles, our country is as safe and as secure as ever..." said the Dark Lord to his blissful audience who were still laughing and swaying under the powerful Magic that coursed through them and weighted the air with warm energy. Remus himself was not exactly sure what the Dark Lord was talking about, but he was quite proud suddenly to be sort of his godfather-in-law and just wanted to go give him a good-natured slap in the back and hug Harry for bringing back home such a great lad. Or Dark Lord.

He was momentarily torn from his pleasant state of mind and felt a twinge of panic at the sight of a wave of Muggle missiles heading directly at his sort-of-son-in-law. The smallest disintegrated in thin air as they flew over the blissed-out crowd, as if the pleasant Magic could not bear to have its fun ruined by pesky missiles. If he was coherent, he would have thought of how much damage they could have caused to all of them if they had continued on. As it was, however, he barely had time to register the phenomenon before the bigger missiles, or rockets, really, at that size, barreled in his field of vision, only to blow up in the most beautiful fireworks he had ever seen before even reaching their target.

At his side, the Weasley twins suddenly burst in cheers, their arms swung on each other's shoulders.

"We made it! We made it! So long Moody and no thanks for all the shit you put us through! Long live U-No-Pooh!" They shouted together, repeating the last part over and over before bursting in laughter hysterically.

Remus thought he heard other explosions and saw his son-in-law (practically his son! Even if he was somehow older than him...) wave his wand around a bit, but he wasn't worried in the slightest. It seemed like they were all wrapped in their little protective bubble of happiness and nothing could touch them. Was this how powerful people felt all the time? No wonder they felt the urge to laugh maniacally all the time. Remus rather felt like cackling too, if he dared say so himself. He only wished his beautiful fiancée was there to enjoy the afternoon with him, but she had stayed at their home because she didn't want to risk their baby. Risk it how, Remus didn't know, but it was sad that she had missed all this beautiful Magic. It was like being drunk on the best alcohol, high on the best drug...not that he knew anything about the latter, obviously. Reprehensible behaviour, all that, but he thought it was an apt description of how he felt at the moment.

He watched distractedly as the Death Eaters rounded up some people and send out some spells that he was too tired to decipher. He remembered thinking that it was weird that everybody had the same colour of blood inside them and how fitting it would be if his son (practically!) had a different one. Where was he, anyway? Ah, there! Talking animatedly to...the Lestranges brothers and Draco Malfoy? Wasn't he supposed to be at Hogwarts at this time? Oh well. His son looked like he was about to leave. Remus made a step in his direction, but his son shot him an annoyed look that glued him to place. Then, he spun and Disapparated. Remus thought it was weird that he had a son that looked like that. He didn't think he son would grow up so fast and not look remotely like him. It was rather strange. Wasn't his son still in Nymphadora's stomach, though? What was this whole son business, anyway? he asked himself suddenly as he looked around confusedly. The Weasley twins were still chanting something about Moody and diarrhoea and he really didn't want his mind to go in that direction so he tuned them out. He thought he'd head out, but hadn't he come to the ceremony with someone else? Ah! Yes! Neville! Where was he hiding now? Neville was a good boy. He probably head back already to be in his bed in time. It was just the afternoon, but Neville was a really good boy, so who knew?

The issue settled, Remus spun on himself and Disapparated to his empty home.

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So! Two out of four!

Thank you in advance for the reviews and see you all on Friday :)