Summary: When the road you're on is already in the verge of crumbling, you could either choose to foolishly continue onward, or turn back and change paths. Harry decided on the latter. MoD!Harry

Pairings: Older Harry/Voldemort, other side pairings

Warning: AU, Time-Travel, Universe Hopping, New Identity, Slash (this means Boy/Boy), MasterOfDeath!Harry, Killings/Torture

Disclaimer: If I were the author of Harry Potter, Dumbies would have chocked on a Lemon Drop and drop dead, not AK-ed. So no, I do not own Harry Potter.

"Speaking"

"Parseltongue"

'Mental telepathy'

Chapter 9: Never hurt one of ours, and the assistant

February 1967
Location: Hogwarts

It was safe to say that Marcaunon had always been a picky person –no matter if it's about torture methods or constant company. His majestic mahogany desk was littered with opened folders, containing information, and photos.

Selecting an assistant was as enjoyable as dissecting a flobberworm, and Marcaunon would rather do the latter –at least there was gore, no matter how small. After he had sent out a newspaper clipping in search of an experienced with Potions assistant, a lot of Experts had owled him, and majority of them don't even know the difference between Monkshood and Wolfsbane (he swore to himself that he would administer detention to any of his students that did not know they're one and the same). No wonder Britain was made fun of when they competed in the IPC (International Potions' Competition) last year.

With a frustrated groan, he closed his eyes and dug one random folder. He raised a brow at the person's selfie and skimmed through the person's resume and working experience –it was decent enough and he could work with this. Not wanting to delay any longer, he wrote a short note, telling the person to come to Hogwarts for an interview the next day.

The walk to the owlery was peaceful –the children were busy watching a Slytherin vs Gryffindor quidditch match. Whilst he on the other hand, was having a day off due to a Potions' accident (not his, mind you) that ruined his classroom –the elves are cleaning it this very moment. He scowled in remembrance, how anyone could cause an explosion when making an anti-paralysis potion was beyond him.

He now understood the constant frowns and permanent worry lines on his ex-Potions Professor's face. He gave too little credit to the overgrown dungeon bat and felt that this was Karma biting him back in the arse.

If he could age properly, he would already be worried about pre wrinkles and probably a permanent scowl carved onto his face –not to mention the grey hairs that'll appear before he physically reached thirty. Contrary to what Mrs. Cole believed, he was aware about his appearance (it was easier to manipulate people with first impressions after all). Just because his hair was at a constant state of disarray, and that he disliked wearing shoes doesn't make him a slob –just eccentric.

Besides, he got into the habit of not wearing footwear due to Voldemort. He recalled the time when The Dark Lord had all but thrown the shoes he wore back inside his cupboard, disgust in those crimson eyes. The vision of his soul-brother throwing a tantrum because Nagini had ordered him to wear shoes to a raid (safety measures to avoid stepping on wayward bones) made him burst out laughing at random moments that month.

But back to the present, he tied the note to one of the owl's leg before throwing the big fella out the window. He turned on his heels and sauntered to the Great Hall, not minding that he was a little early for lunch.

He raised a brow when he noted that all his Slytherins were already seated, their shoulders stiff and their expression closed off.

"Father." His son greeted just as he sat down. To any outsider, Marchosias was the picture of innocence and relaxation, but to him, his son was filled with tension.

"Chaos." He smiled in greeting and piled up some food onto his plate. "Any reason as to why my Slytherins seemed… tense?" He was glad that the food would always appear as he sat down, so very different from the students –which they had to wait for the Headmaster.

"United front."

The answer made him pause as he slowly turned towards his Snakes. He scanned them and noticed that all but three were present –being the Head meant that he knew all his Snakes by heart. He narrowed his eyes –something had happened and they were angry.

"Oh? Did one of the other animals overstep their boundaries?" He turned to his plate and asked nonchalantly as he continued eating.

"Indeed. A Lion dared to stand on a Snake's body entirely on purpose, not minding that the Snake had almost died due to its weight." Chaos replied, his voice cold and filled with fury.

"Really…" His lips thinned into a straight line. "And none of my Snakes had the decency to inform me."

"It just happened."

"Ah. Quidditch…" He looked up as the other Professors and students filled into the Great Hall.

The Headmaster stood in front of the head table, raising an arm to silence the chatters of the students.

"Before we feast in congratulations to Gryffindor for winning their match, I would like to caution that Quidditch is indeed a dangerous sport… and may lead to many in-game and bystander accidents –"

Albus was cut off as all the Slytherins hissed as one, and if they were cobras, their hoods would be flared in defiance. Marcaunon cocked his head to the side. The other Houses looked at them in shock but the Headmaster cleared his throat for attention once more.

"Ms. Bellatrix Black will be transferred to St. Mungos soon for proper treatment –" He didn't wait to hear what the old man had to say, knowing that a trip to St. Mungos meant that the injury was dangerous and life threatening, and stood (attracting many attention from both students and teachers alike) ignoring the eyes that followed him as he walked out the Hall.

He entered the infirmary, following the sound of sobbing and sniffling to a bed with their curtains closed. Madam Pomfrey was not anywhere to be seen as he carefully slipped inside.

Bellatrix Black was someone he disliked, but she was one of his Snakes, and he took care of those that were his. She looked pale, sweaty, and near death. On either side of her bed was her two sisters, Andromeda and Narcissa (whom is just a first year) Black.

The two crying girls turned to him with narrowed angry eyes, but relaxed when they saw it was him.

"P-professor." Narcissa cried as she ran to him.

Marcaunon opened his arms for the crying girl to latch onto him, not minding that her stoic façade was broken. Many would think that Slytherins were cold and emotionless (which was somewhat true), but his Snakes were loyal to only their chosen Lord and family. He lost count to how many First and Seconds Years had come crying to him due to the bullies and prejudiced they faced with the other Houses. It took long for him to get used to prolong human contact, but practice makes perfect –though the only ones he could stand were Slytherins.

He settled the crying girl onto his lap as he sat down on her previous seat, her face buried into his shoulder. He hummed and rubbed the girl's back in comfort whilst looking at the middle of the three sisters.

Andromeda visibly pulled herself together when she saw him looking for an explanation.

"Professor." She greeted, her voice strained. "Madam Pomfrey went to inform our parents."

"That's good. Tell me what happened, Ms Bl–... Andromeda." He corrected, seeing as there were two out of three Ms. Black currently conscious. He bounced his leg as he absentmindedly rubbed circles on Narcissa's back –already used to comforting firsties to care that he was out of character.

"William Waits… He…" She sniffed softly and his eyes softened. Without thought, he transfigured the chair he was sitting on into a sofa chair just big enough for two adults to fit in. He patted the seat next to him and the girl was quick to settle next to him, leaning against him as to seek comfort.

Marcaunon wrapped an arm around Andromeda's shoulder and smiled reassuringly.

"The game was already over… And we all know that Waits has temper issues. Bella… She… He was still angry at Bella for when she called him a Mudblood yesterday."

"Waits… He plays as a beater for the Lions, does he not?"

"Yes…" The arms around his waist tightened. "We, the Slytherins, saw him accidently lose his grip on a bludger… It was more than 50ft high, Professor! And he just… It was too fast and we couldn't stop the ball in time. It landed on – on Bella's head!"

He scowled, knowing how hard and heavy that blasted ball weighs (he still wondered why he even loved flying with a broom back then). Bellatrix was lucky to be a Witch. Any Parasites would've had their skulls caved in and died upon impact.

"Too fast, Professor. We could hear the… and oh Salazar… the blood… Her head was…" She chocked and cried harder.

"Shhh… It's alright, child." He ran a hand through her hair in a comforting manner. "Her injuries, Andromeda?" He asked gently, rocking the two girls, the middle sister almost atop his lap whilst the youngest was glued to him.

"M-madam Pomfrey said that her… Bella's skull was… it was shattered beyond repair! She wasn't sure how it'll affect Bella's mentality, so she went to firecall my parents to inform them… and maybe place her in St. Mungos until further notice." Her voice grew more panicked.

He hummed softly to the both of them, his gentle motions already making Narcissa's eyes droop tiredly. Was this the cause of Bellatrix's insanity back in his world? Before she was shoved into Azkaban? No matter how powerful she will be when she reaches adulthood, Voldemort and Marchosias would probably prefer her to be less insane. Yes, he would have to fix her… And the Blacks would owe him as well.

"Hold your younger sister for me, Andromeda." He smiled softly at the teen as she nodded. Marcaunon shifted slightly and handed an exhausted eleven year old Narcissa over to her sister, before getting up and sitting on the edge of the bed.

He took out his wand and performed a few diagnostic spells on Bellatrix, many of them were future inventions during war time –much more accurate than the ones used these years. He narrowed his eyes in anger when he read the results –her skull was shattered, with many of the pieces piercing the brain.

Once again, Bellatrix was lucky to be a Witch. A Parasite would have already been dead with this kind of damage. There's a chance that she could turn insane if the pieces were not pulled out, and the brain not healed properly –there was already severe intracranial hemorrhage.

He didn't know if this dimension had competent healers that could manage such a delicate case, but he would not risk it. Even back in his own world (and future), many would already declare this as a lost cause and tell the patient's family that she would have to be admitted into St. Mungos' permanently mental ward.

He bit his lower lip and snapped his fingers, making one of his butterflies appear in front of him.

"Tell Marchosias to bring my red briefcase with a white cross in the middle. He knows where it is." The butterfly burst into blue particles and disappeared just as he finished his sentence.

"P-professor?" Andromeda stuttered.

He stood up from the bed and smiled reassuringly at the teen.

"Rest. I'll take care of Bellatrix."

She nodded with a relieved sigh, and the two sisters' finally relaxed their shoulders. They know not to question their Head of House, and to believe in him no matter what.

The curtains were pulled open and Marchosias stepped inside, closing it again after him. His ruby eyes scanned the surrounding people before stopping at Bellatrix. There was fury in those eyes and Marcaunon understood why –Voldemort had personally trained the adult version of Bella, making her one of his strongest fighters.

"Father." He placed the red trunk on the nightstand beside Marcaunon. "Do you need assistance?"

The question may have sounded weird to the Blacks, since Marchosias was only a seven year old in their eyes, but Marcaunon only smiled softly and shook his head.

"Thank you Marchosias, but can you please inform Madam Pomfrey that she does not need to firecall St. Mungos?" He unlatched his trunk and pulled out a pair of skin tight gloves, along with a few potion bottles and balm. "Persuade her to the best of your… abilities."

Marchosias gave a tight smile and walked out of the curtain area. Marcaunon knew that his son could talk a beggar out of his last meal, but Madam Pomfrey was as stubborn as a dragon, thus him giving his son permission to use Magic if necessary.

"May I ask what you're doing to Bella, Professor?" Narcissa asked curiously. Marcaunon turned to her for a second before he continued to pull out bandages and the likes. If he remembered correctly, Narcissa was an unlicensed Mediwitch –one of the best (the Dark Side were lucky to have her).

"Since Bellatrix's skull has shattered and punctured the frontal and parietal lobe –"

"Frontal? Parietal?"

"The front and top part of her brain." He explained patiently. "I will need to remove those… bone pieces, put them all back together again, before fixing her brain… and mind." He simplified with a grimace. Sounds easy but it takes a whole lot of concentration.

"Pardon me for pointing out the obvious, Professor," Andromeda started nervously as she bit her bottom lip. "but Madam. Pomfrey said that it would take a minimum of four healers, including a mind healer, to heal my sister… And there's a chance that she's already suffering from mental imbalance."

"Your concerns are understandable, but unnecessary, Andromeda. She is one of mine, and I will not permit others to announce her a lost case when she is clearly fixable." He answered absentmindedly as he donned on his gloves and applied his special made numbing balm on Bellatrix's forehead and scalp, after taking out the (bloodied) bandages of course.

He poured a few potions into Bellatrix's mouth, and massaged her throat. Pain reliever, a (very) small portion of skele-glue, headache reliever, fever reducer, blood-replenishing, and infection control –just to name a few.

He then placed one of his gloved hands on her forehead and the other to support him on the bed.

"Andromeda, Narcissa." He cut in. "Do not disturb me." The two nodded hastily when he stared at them both seriously.

He closed his eyes and layered his Magic around her cranium. The first thing he did was to remove all the unneeded blood, before slowly and carefully remove the bones penetrating her brain, and then piece the cranial bones together, similar to a jigsaw puzzle (except it's all in the same color and have random sizes). A part of his Magic would hold them together, whilst another part would heal them permanently –the skele-glue would help as well.

He didn't know how long it took for him to finish the first process, but he immediately went to the second. He instructed his Magic to heal her brain whilst he himself would dive into her mindscape. He would need her to be aware so that she does not fall into coma.

Bellatrix's mindscape was mostly blank (and looked like an earthquake had just happened), with little to no protection –a good age to start occlumency would be around sixteen for an average wizard or witch. He walked around, fixing cracks here and there whilst trying to find his student's conscious.

"Gaunt." Or the other way round. A weak voice, so much different from the usual defiance Bellatrix often showed him, was heard from behind him. "W-where are we? Why are you here?"

He turned to the pale teen, taking in her shaken form and suspiciously bright eyes –please don't cry. He really didn't want to deal with a crying Bellatrix. That would be too creepy even for him.

"Bellatrix." He presented her his hand, palms upwards as he smiled. "I believe it's time we leave."

She hesitated for a split second before latching onto his hand, almost desperately. He pulled her into a hug and patted her messy curls reassuringly.

"It's alright." He tilted her chin up so that she could stare into his eyes. "Will you trust me, child?"

"… Ok…" her voice was shaking. "But only this one time!"

He chuckled lowly, a little glad that the usual stubborn Bellatrix wasn't lost.

"Close your eyes."

She did so and with a tug, they both left his student's fixed mindscape, with not even a crack in place (her sanity is safely secured!). His Magic had fully fixed her brain, skull, and skin, just in time for Bellatrix's eyes to flutter open weakly.

There were gasps of disbelief coming from around him, but he paid them no mind as he wiped his damp forehead. Time for the after-procedure care.

OOOO

"I demand the usage of Veritaserum in this investigation, Albus." He crossed his legs as he leaned back nonchalantly, though his eyes were narrowed behind his rose-tinted glasses.

"May I ask why, Marcaunon? William Waits has already expressed his sincerely apologies for dropping the heavy bludger due to his weakening grip." Dumbles asked whilst sucking on those lemon drops of his.

They were currently seated in the Headmaster's office, together with William Waits's parents. Bellatrix's parents on the other hand, are currently in the infirmary, together with their daughters –they wanted to stay with their eldest for the time being. They would arrive in this office soon to sue the Waits, and he would enjoy the show. But for now…

"There is a chance of him lying, Headmaster, and I will not risk it. One of my students was hurt badly, almost dying before I managed to heal her." He stated steadily. "My Slytherins have also informed me that it was no accident, Albus, and Mr. Waits had the intention of hurting Ms. Black."

"Only Slytherins saw that!" The father of William Waits shouted in defense as he stood up, his face red with anger. "Suspicious that only those cunning bastards saw it ha!?"

"Those cunning bastards, as you so eloquently put it, are my students, Mr. Waits. I will not tolerate you insulting them." He stated coldly.

"I can call them anything I want, Professor." The man whose name he had not bothered to remember spat at him, the spittle flying everywhere –Marcaunon was luckily out of range. How disgusting. "Tell me, Professor," The red head snarled. "why only your Slytherins saw that? My youngest is a better person then all your students combined!"

"Enough." The Headmaster said sharply, a disapproving frown on his wrinkly face. The old man had not liked the fact that a parent had disrespected his employee –the one he favored at that. Marcaunon hid a smirk behind his hand. Being a cute friendly Badger sure paid off.

"But Headmaster Dumbledore!" Mr. Winks pointed his finger at Marcaunon. "He - They're dark! They –"

"Mr. Winks" The greying man shut his mouth with an audible click. "This matter will be investigated, and with Veritaserum."

"You can't be serious, Headmaster –" Mrs. Waits finally spoke up, but was cut off.

"Professor Gaunt is the Head of Slytherin, and Hogwarts' Potions' Master. He has the right to demand the usage of Veritaserum on a student if necessary." Albus took out a huge tome and flipped it open, before placing it on his desk in front of Mr. and Mrs. Waits. "Read rule 401, Mr. Waits, Mrs. Waits."

The two were silent as they read, the woman's face going sheet white whilst her husband had turned a shade of purple, very similar to Harry's walrus of an uncle.

"No! Veritaserum's dangerous to young people!"

"Marcaunon?" Albus raised a bushy brow.

"To only children under the age of eleven, Headmaster." He answered swiftly. "The potion will not cause harm to any that are older, unless overdosed. The only reason why they are not permitted by the Ministry for those whom have no mastery over Potions is because they tend to accidently poison the person they use it on."

"Lies!" Mr. Waits yelled in frustration, those beady eyes glaring at the two Hogwarts' Staff.

"Mr. Waits!" Albus chided as he looked at the man disapprovingly.

"I already requested for William Waits to be administered Veritaserum. Will you authorize, Albus?" He cocked his head to the side with a raised brow.

Albus smiled at the familiar gesture and bobbed his head in agreement.

"We will administer Veritaserum after we are granted permission by the Ministry."

In this world, there are laws regarding the usage of Veritaserum. It is illegal to use it on anybody without the Ministry's permit, and the parties involved are required to sign a binding contract. They are only allowed to ask questions that are written on the contract. At least the Ministry in this world had a few good rules (though not much).

"Very well, Headmaster. I expect to hear from you soon."

He left the office soon after, leaving it to Albus to persuade Mr. and Mrs. Waits into giving their permission. Dumbles was a Snake in a Lion's fur, and only Voldemort, Marchosias, and Marcaunon knew that.

OOOO

For the whole week, William Waits had been in the infirmary at least three times a day. He would enter the white room crying –green skin to broken bones.

Marcaunon would always turn a blind eye when he accidently stumbled across his Slytherins in the process of going through their plans. He would hum to himself and walk away, pretending to be oblivious to the cries and begs he had heard from William Waits as his Snakes break bone after bone. They were never caught and Marcaunon was proud of that fact.

His son on the other hand… Even Marcaunon himself never caught him on the crime scene. The most painless prank Marchosias had done to Waits was to make every bone within the Gryffindor's body disappear (his Slytherins were frightened at the thought of that being the most harmless out of everything Marchosias did). If Marcaunon was a squeamish person, he would've turned green and puked right there and then when he found Waits boneless on the ground, his skin and muscles sagging, making him look eerily like that Pokemon called Muk.

On another note, Lord Black was quick to make the Waits regret ever crossing their family. Mr. Waits became unemployed, and they're close to losing the place they call home. Marcaunon couldn't wait until the Veritaserum was administered. Lord Black would definitely sue them, make them penniless, and then make them the Blacks' personal human slaves. Not servants, slaves.

Speaking of Lord Black, he had owled Marcaunon his gratitude. This would've been alright, if not for the fact that that bloody Lord had the gall to write, and he quote; 'you should be honored that I am intending to give my youngest daughter's hand in marriage to your son'.

Lord Black was the one who should be honored that Marcaunon had burnt that piece of parchment before Marchosias had seen it.

Yeah…

He wrote a respond telling Lord Black that the Black Family owed him one and left it to that. It gave him night terrors just thinking about his son marrying Narcissa and producing black-blondies. It was a disturbing thought that made him awaken at night in cold sweat. Not a pleasant experience at all.

Location: Hogwarts, Personal quarters

"Father?" Marchosias voice sounded odd and Marcaunon wondered if he had done anything to anger his boy.

"Yes?"

"Why do I see that bi–Vevila's name on the map?"

Marcaunon tilted his head to look just above his fireplace mantel. Pinned up was a bigger version of his Hogwarts' Blueprint. Marchosias has a (bad) habit of spying on Dumbledore daily using said map. Since this one was an improved version of the Marauders' Map, there were words beside the footprint –there were no secrets they didn't know in Hogwarts (blackmail material mostly for Marchosias). Invading someone's privacy was something both father and son disregarded.

"Oh. She's here for the interview." He stretched and head towards his office. "Direct her to my office, alright Chaos?"

OOOO

"Good afternoon, Madam Malfoy." He greeted the woman sitting in front of his desk with a polite smile.

"And you, Professor Gaunt." Her eyes continued to blink at a rapid rate, whilst she pressed forward so that her crossed arms were resting atop his desk.

"Thank you for coming in today. I certainly appreciated it."

"I should be the one thanking you for having me, Professor."

He nodded at her and opened a folder container her resume and other information.

"If you could tell me a little bit about yourself, that would be great." He needed to find out what's so special about her (even though he would likely choose her since the others were idiots), and why should he even consider to hire her.

"My name's Vevila Malfoy, and I have been a Potions' Mistress for half a decade. I have experience in teaching and grading essays –mostly from tutoring Pureblood children before they start Hogwarts, and I'm hoping to become a member of the Hogwarts' staff."

"What are your greatest strengths, Madam Malfoy." This was important for him to know – what she could help with after he had hired her. For example, Vevila could be good in marking essays, but doesn't know the correct kind of homework to be given to his students.

"Hmm… I am great in brewing, finding good quality ingredients, efficient in paperwork, and patient with my students."

"What are your greatest weaknesses?" This was a way to find out if she would be honest with him, and herself –humans always try to hide their weakness and that could be fatal if working with Potions. She might overestimate herself and the Potion could go boom.

"I must admit that I tend to avoid making Potions that require more than three days of completion, though I do brew them at least once a month to keep my skills from rusting."

"Why are you interested in working here?" Marcaunon wondered why a Malfoy even wanted to work as an assistant, and to see if Vevila truly has passion for teaching.

Her smile turned weird before smoothing out into one of polite interest. Marcaunon choose to ignore the glint in her eyes at that moment, it unnerved him much to his confusion.

"I've always loved being around children, and having the opportunity to work in Hogwarts is many people's dream –this castle is where our Magical experience truly began after all."

She sounded genuine enough, even though she said that it was people's dream, not hers.

"Why should I accept you as my assistant?" This was an opportunity to sell her skills to him. If he wasn't already set on hiring her, this was the question that would give her bonus points that could lead to her being hired or rejected. A smart person would take full advantage of this.

"As you should know, being a fellow Potions' Master, we have to join a guild to advance in our title." She looked at him for confirmation and he nodded. "In my guild, I was in the top twenty when I received my Masteries. I am a responsible person, I have great work ethic, and I'm very adaptable."

"Is there anything you would like to ask me before this interview comes to an end?"

"I do. May I ask what you expect of me?"

"You may. I don't expect much, apart from helping me with grading and preparing for future lessons. Also, to assist me in brewing potions for Madam Pomfrey –students get hurt quite a lot in Hogwarts."

"I see… Everything seems fine to me."

"Is there anything else you wish to ask?"

"No, none at the moment."

"Alright. I will owl you in a few days, Madam Malfoy." He stood up to usher her to the door.

"I expect good news from you soon, Professor Gaunt."

She smiled that weird smile of hers as they stopped by the door. Vevila suddenly turned to him and showed him an envelope with the Malfoy seal on it.

"I would like to invite you and your son to another one of my family dinners. Abraxas wanted an opportunity to apologize and make it up to you for disappearing half-way through our meal last month."

"I'll owl my reply to you along with the interview results, Vevila." He gave her a soft smile, not noticing how her hand had lingered longer than necessary when she gave him the envelope.

Location: Hogwarts

"Didja hear?" Someone whispered near him as he walked through the hallways.

"What?" Another whispered back.

"Marrone went missing a few days ago after she was released by Madam Pomfrey."

"Who's that?"

"You know… The hot blonde in Gryffindor? A seventh year."

"Eh… Her given name?"

"Emma. Emma Marrone."

"Oh her. She has a nice body, that one. How did she disappear?"

"No one knows. Though there's a rumor that they heard her scream that night before her disappearance."

"That's scary… Do you think the wards around Hogwarts are weakening?"

"I don't know, mate."

Marcaunon continued his way to his classroom, ignoring the gossiping teenagers around him -it was something normal (Hogwarts rumor mill were sometimes plain weird). Emma Marrone sounded familiar… He shrugged it off in favor of reading his lesson notes.

OOOO

In the many hidden dungeons on the other side of the castle's wing, a boy with ruby eyes and raven hair cackled as he continued to carve demeaning words onto the scarred skin in front of him, savoring the whimpers and agonized screaming his victim let out. It was music to his ears.

A/N:

Gosh sorry for the delayed update… again. I've already written a draft for quite some time, but it took me a so long to put it into real words and sentences. Damn my disability to put words onto paper… or in this case, typing words in a word doc. Thanks to this… block of mine, I wrote another fic that I will not be posting yet (I can't believe I could write 7 chapters of that, but still be stuck in this one chapter!) because it needs editing. I've been wanting to write a fic on the Founder's era for ages… guess I got my chance... sigh.

Onto the reviews; Many of you are practically vibrating with want at having Voldemort meet the other two Gaunts… and whilst I am tempted to do just that, he has reasons to not have screen time just yet. Soon alright? Gehehehe. And for those who think that Marc needed an assistant… I have given him one! I'm sure you're all happy to note that Madam Malfoy will be a constant presence in this fic. Insert evil cackle here.

Thank you all for your awesome reviews and comments. I even saw some authors that I admire following my fic –which brings great joy to me. I will see you all in the next chapter! Hmm... We haven't had a lot of torture and killings huh... I should add that in next time.

Story recommendation for today: And In The Darkness Bind Them by EpikalStorms. This is a crossover (HP/LOTR) and features MoD!Harry. He's old as dirt and has trouble forming bonds. Soon he joins the Fellowship on their journey and relearns how to trust and form friendship once more. For those readers whom have never watched LOTR, have no fear… I myself don't watch LOTR but love the fic. I mean, I don't really know anything about LOTR apart from this words… "MY PRECIOUS!"

Rainbows and Persistence,
GenderlessPerson