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
Main Pairing: HP/LV (Marcaunon/Voldemort – not Chaos)
Side Pairings: Pending
Warning: AU, Time-Travel, Universe Hopping, New Identity, Slash (this means Boy/Boy), MasterOfDeath!Harry, Killings/Torture, Mentions of rapes/abuse, Incestuous relationships
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 19: You can't hide forever!
Date: 31 May 1967
Location: Hogwarts, Marc's bedchamber
His eyes fluttered open as he entered his mindscape. It has been quite some time since he sorted through his memories, and organized his mind. He didn't wish to further delay it any longer than necessary. There was a slight chance of his memories slipping into his dreams, and that would prove disastrous (to people around him).
His mindscape was as usual, dark and filled with blue swirling orbs. He walked passed rows after rows of shelves that contained more than a thousand glass orbs filled with his memories, eerily alike to those at the Hall of Prophecy. The serpent guards he had encountered paid him no mind, knowing that he was their creator. When he finally reached an empty shelf, he stood there, just staring.
The process of creating the so called memory orbs was similar to that of prophecies, and they can only be touched by him. If – it's a big IF – others were to do so (if they bypassed his guards) they would either go insane by the sheer amount of agony and hatred those balls emitted through skin contact, or they would flee from his mind the minute they overcame those feelings… if his serpents did not bite them whilst they were distracted of course. His mind defense was perfect, and it was not arrogance if it was true.
He held out his right hand, palm facing upwards, and thought back to the time where he became Ignatius Rose in order to attend the meeting held by Voldemort. He did not have much time to sort through those memories previously since he was far too busy back then. After a few more moments of recalling back all that he had seen, felt, smelt, touched, and tasted, an orb formed upon his palm, filled with swirling blue memories.
With careful hands, he placed the newly made orb onto one of the many holders that were on the shelf. He had no wish of damaging his mind any further due to his carelessness (like that one time) – breaking the orbs was equivalent to breaking his memories.
"I have something to report, Master." One of his serpent guards spoke.
He narrowed his eyes in annoyance, eyes not once leaving the beautiful blue orb.
"Is there something amiss?"
"There is another here," that caught Marcaunon's attention. "we do not know how to proceed, Master."
"Destroy whoever has stepped into my mind as per usual." His voice was hard and condescending. The serpent cowered, but held its ground.
"But Master… He is a spe–"
"Interesting."
Marcaunon snapped his head to the direction of the voice, which he could instantly tell was spoken in the tongue of men rather than serpents. The guard that was near him hissed in warning at the intruder, but made no attempts of attacking, much to Marcaunon's rising ire. His real self was not an understanding and patient person as compared to who he has always been masquerading as at Hogwarts. His mind was a place where he let down all of his masks – that meant he was ruthless and scornful here, even to his own creations.
The serpent must have felt his patience thinning, for it had bared its fangs that were dripping with acidic venom.
"Who are you and how have you entered here?" He growled out with animosity, his eyes already bleeding to crimson in justified anger.
Before he had entered his mindscape, he was at Hogwarts, in his chamber for Merlin's sake! Nobody would (and could) invade his mind with Marchosias sleeping next to him – his son had set up wards to alert him of any intruders, and Marcaunon pretended to be oblivious since normal seven year olds could never perform such Magics.
The percentage of him being legilimized? Zero.
The man, for it was obviously a man, was covered in shadows since his mindscape was a naturally dark place. He was unable to make out the intruder's features, but he had somewhat recognized the voice. He was unable to grasp just where he had heard it from though.
He saw the man shrug, which made Marcaunon sneer at the audacity.
"You are the reason for my presence here – as you are the one who called for me." Was the man's not-answer. He sounded far too amused for Marcaunon's liking. He loathed anyone who spoke to him as such, apart from Death.
"I called for no one, and you best be on your way, lest I destroy what little sanity you have left." For no one was sane enough to consider ever voluntarily enter his mind.
The man chuckled and took a step forward, making the shadows only covering the top half of his face. Marcaunon was annoyed at the smirk the man was wearing. He really wanted this intruder's blood.
"I will give you a final warning." The serpents that have gathered around them during their talk were all positioned to strike at any given notice. "Leave, or I shall force you to do so myself."
Before his very eyes, the intruder disappeared, only for him to appear in front of Marcaunon, the man's features were plain for all to see. Marcaunon eyes could only widen as he recognized the intruder.
The intruder on the other hand, only brushed Marcaunon's scarred cheek lovingly with his knuckles, a small triumphed smirk on his face.
"I found you, Marcaunon Gaunt." Was said before Voldemort vanished completely from his mind, leaving behind a very distraught Marcaunon and a group of serpents that were slithering away as if a honey badger was on their tails, knowing that their creator would lash out at them for their mistake.
He bolted up from his bed with cold sweat covering his body. It was only a dream. A bloody dream. There was no way for Voldemort to enter his mind when they were so far apart. There… was… no… way… Who the hell was he kidding!? Of course Voldemort was able to enter his mind, for he could enter the soon to be Dark Lord's mind as well! How naïve of him to think that their mind link would only work one way–
A small hand touched his forearm, making him jerk and slap the appendage away. There was a sound of surprise, but he paid it no mind as he scooted away from the warm body beside him, his mind too upset to think clearly.
"Mom? What's wrong?" The worried high pitched voice made him snap out from his daze, and he stared into the eyes of a very concern baby Dark Lord.
He opened his mouth to reply, but could only close it when he was unable to find any words that would explain his situation. He looked down to his hands that were on his lap, for once, feeling very lost. He felt more than see his son nearing him, and when the smaller body was close enough, he hugged Marchosias tightly, burying his nose into his son's nest of hair. His son's scent comforted him.
Those thin arms wrapped around his shoulders as to comfort him, and he finally lost the tenseness in his muscles.
"Just a nightmare." He didn't want to believe it to be anything else but a nightmare.
OOOO
When Marchosias had finally fallen asleep – thank goodness that seven year olds need more sleep than adults – Marcaunon warped out of his bedchambers and into his study. The only solution for him not to alert his son of his departure was to use Death's portal. Those wards were both ensuring and troublesome.
"Master." Death's sudden voice startled him far more than he would like to admit. "Good timing."
"Anything the matter?" he turned to Death after he had seated himself on an armchair.
"My presence is required elsewhere, so I am leaving this dimension for an unknown duration of time."
"What!?" he stood up from his seat, very alert and troubled. He always felt safe at the knowledge of Death being able to come to his side the second he called for It. "Can't you use your time Magic like how you did when we travelled to the Zombie dimension?"
"As much as I loathe admitting it, there are a handful of dimensions that my time Magic, as you called it, cannot intervene with – lest I destroy it unintentionally. The one I am heading to is one of them. Forgive me Master." Death Itself looked unwilling to part with him. That knowledge reassured him slightly.
He knew that he was being selfish by keeping Death here when It has a job It needed to do, but he was too dependent on the being. Without Death, he was afraid to even step out of his room, especially at the news that Voldemort found him. He didn't want It to go, but he has to be considerate as well.
Whilst his mind was in turmoil, Death's eyes softened. It stepped forward and ran a hand through his locks. He leaned into the being's touch and closed his eyes – savoring the feeling. Death was like a father and at the same time brother to him more than a servant. He felt this way about Voldemort back in his own parallel universe once upon a time. Not that he would reveal that to anyone.
"Why are you needed there, if I may ask?"
"There is an item in that dimension that could bring forth calamitous events. And before Master asks, I did, in fact, create an entity to govern the balance of souls – and paperwork – however It is unable to intervene with mortals. I would've attempted to pinch the item the second it was made, but the creator had no intentions of using it, so I left it be. Now that it has fallen into the hands of someone who could potentially bring the destruction of the whole dimension, I must retrieve it."
Marcaunon's eyes suddenly lit up with interest, much to Death's ever growing horror.
"I'm going to destroy it." It added in hastily.
That caused him to puff out his cheeks and pouted at the news. Death was like a mind reader. Was he that transparent?
"Why?" He whined, not at all behaving his physical or mental age.
"Because Master will use it to destroy the Zombie dimension of course."
"Why would I do such a thing?" He schooled his features into one of pure innocence, his eyes wide with childish naivety.
"So that Master could spend more time with little Lord – and lesser paperwork to be done." Death snorted, as if Its Master could fool It with those puppy dog eyes. It was immune to them.
"You mind reader!" He accused.
"Master's expression is similar to that of a child's to those as old as I am." Death stated dryly. "And do try to stop changing the subject. I know Master well enough to not be fooled like those useless mortals."
His mask dropped, leaving behind a face full of desperation.
"I… I don't want you to leave, but I know you have a job to do… I know that – but… but!" he tugged his hair harshly. He really was a selfish person.
Death could only pull him into a hug, which he fully returned. He breathed in Death's scent – the scent of blood, earth, and most of all, death. It was a familiar smell that always lolled him into sleep during his stay at the orphanage.
"Can't I come?" He asked in a tiny muffled voice that was very out of character of him, his face buried deep into Death's clothed chest. This was one of the times where he loved his lack of height.
"What of little Lord? Does Master expect little Lord to just sit idle whilst we wonder off without any form of explanation?"
"I could write a note–"
"He will be mad."
They both remained in each other's arms in silence. Marcaunon knew that his son could take care of himself, Marchosias was seventy seven after all, but he knew as well that his son would never forgive him if he were to suddenly drop out of radar.
"Take him with us." He said in a small voice, not noticing Death's triumphed smile. "We can take him with us."
Death unwrapped Its arms and led Its Master to the settee, before pulling Marcaunon on Its lap. It cupped his cheeks and they both stared into each other's eyes.
"Master will have to explain to little Lord how we are able to travel to different dimensions."
He faltered for a second, but regained his composure with a determined glint in his eyes.
"I'll think of something." He looked down for a few minutes, before looking up shyly at Death. "If it's alright with you. I would not want to get in your way of work."
"As if Master would ever get in my way." Death chuckled, Its emerald eyes gazing back at him fondly.
"I'll inform the Headmaster of our departure then. What is the estimated time for us to retrieve the item?"
"It could be up to a year."
He hummed in thought. Death has unintentionally presented him with the opportunity of running away from Voldemort – and he would take it without telling Death of course. The entity was sometimes a pain and has been telling him to face his fears, which he will at a later date. Just not… now.
"Excuse me whilst I talk to Dumbledore. Would you mind telling Chaos dear about our impromptu family vacation?" It won't take much to convince Dumbledore, but he needed to ensure his position in Hogwarts. He didn't want to be replaced after all. He loved it here… and teaching as well. "Oh and get Suki and Mana as well."
"Yes, my Master." Death kissed his forehead before they both separated.
OOOO
It entered Its Master's bedchambers, knowing that this would alert little Lord of Its presence. As expected, the deaged man stirred and awoken from his slumber as soon as Death's feet touched the ground on the other side of the door.
"Mort?" was said groggily as Marchosias rubbed his eyes with his fists. It was a cute sight, even to Death. It held in the urge to coo – It has dignity, unlike Its Master.
"Indeed, little Lord. Master has requested for you to get ready."
"What for, if I may ask? It's still…" He turned to the clock that was on the nightstand. "Early."
"We're transferring due to my occupation."
That snapped Marchosias out of his dazed state.
"Mother retired from being a Potions' Professor?" He asked worriedly, though his face remained indifferent.
"Master is on work leave, and since my occupation requires me elsewhere, Master decided to follow. Think of it as a family vacation, little Lord."
Suspicion entered the young ma–ahem, boy's ruby eyes. Marchosias was a genius, and Death did not doubt that. He must have known something was odd, seeing that Death could travel anywhere with Its mode of transportation.
"Does little Lord require assistance in bathing?" It hid a smirk behind Its hood, knowing that treating Marchosias like a little boy infuriated him – and would distract him.
As predicted, Marchosias glared and tossed a pillow at Death. Without much effort, It side stepped, hands relaxed inside his cloak's pockets. With a huff, Its Master's son jumped out of bed and into the bathroom.
It hummed a funeral march, a habit It had undoubtedly gained from Its Master, as It waited. Being immortal does wonders to one's patience level. Add in the fact that Marcaunon always threw a tantrum due to the amount of paperwork, Death became a very patient being.
When the bathroom door clicked opened, a freshly showered Marchosias stepped out. Death always wondered about the Gaunt family fashion sense. They all preferred dark colors and clothing that hug them as if second skin – though no skin apart from the face was shown. If It were a mortal, It would've already been tempted to ravish Its Master. Really, Marcaunon had no idea how tempting he dressed when not using a robe or cloak.
It shook Its head to clear Its thoughts and continued to study the boy. Marchosias wore a long sleeved turtleneck, form fitting trousers, a pair of band gloves, and uggs. All were in black. Almost absentmindedly, Death snapped Its fingers.
Marchosias startled before he glowered at his godfather, having noticed himself wearing another article of clothing atop his turtleneck; a light brown bear sleeveless hoodie, ears and tails included.
Death nodded to Itself. Master would've eventually put little Lord into a hoodie anyway. Better to do so now. It skillfully ignored the complaints coming from Its godson, and dragged the boy to Its Master's study – but not before scooping up the two terrified shrunken serpents and putting them inside Its pocket. It was lucky that Marcaunon made his son have the habit of wearing (enchanted) gloves – It did not want to accidently rot Its godson's hand after all. Master was annoying when it came to his son's welfare. Stupid son-complex parent. Death wouldn't want to be there when little Lord gained a partner.
"I don't need to be hand held like a little kid, Mort."
Death was excellent at being deaf when it came to things It didn't wish to do.
"… Don't ignore me!"
It wondered if It should pack some clothing for their vacation.
The door suddenly opened, revealing a smug looking Marcaunon. Probably has something to do with outsmarting Albus. Those kind of things always brought a smug smile on Marcaunon's lips – how simple minded. He looked at Marchosias hoodie and snorted, much to the boy's exasperation. Whilst Its Master was busy with teasing his son, Death observed what the adult Gaunt was wearing.
Marcaunon wore a long sleeved turtleneck, skinny jeans, band gloves, and his usual heeled combat boots – he has a height complex. All black. Death could not sense any glamours on Marcaunon, and thanks to Its Master's messy bird nest of a hair, the scar that was on his cheek was partially covered. It was glad that Marcaunon had finally decided to show Marchosias his scars – it meant that he was finally moving forward.
It might take a while for Its Master to heal his mental scars, but It knew that Marcaunon would eventually recover. And after that, It can finally rid those physically scars from Its Master's beautiful alabaster skin – especially the one at his neck. Marcaunon was Its Master, and It loathe how the scar was shaped like a collar. Nobody owned Death. Those mortals back in Master's original universe did not have a chance of redemption, seeing that Death had eaten their souls right after they had died.
"You didn't explain it to him, Mort?" Marcaunon's exasperated voice brought It back from Its wondering (murderous) thoughts.
"Master's orders did not include that." It wanted Marcaunon to fully open his heart to Marchosias, and explaining about his MoD status was a big step, even if it would bring pain in the beginning.
After all, a lesson learnt without pain is meaningless, for one cannot gain anything without sacrificing something else in return, but once they have overcome it and made it their own… they will gain an irreplaceable heart in return. [1]
He looked at Death with an annoyed expression and sighed in resignation. The older Gaunt crouched so that his son was on eye level with him – Death inwardly snorted at that, knowing that without those boots, Marcaunon would be shorter when in that position.
"Chaos dear. The place that we will be heading to is somewhere very far and unreachable even to owls – I've already sent a letter to your friend Severus by the way." Marcaunon started with a soothing voice. Death nodded. So far so good. "We'll be heading to another dimension vastly different from ours."
…
..
.
Idiot Master! If Death were a lesser being, It would've facepalmed. What kind of explanation was that supposed to be!?
"Huh?" Was the smart reply from the genius child.
"Now that I've already told Chaos dear where we're going, let's go!" Marcaunon pumped his fist into the air as he stood up.
Death sighed and shook Its head forlornly. Marcaunon may be an amazing person when it came to politics and teaching, but when it came down to his son? A failure. A total failure of a parent.
"Wait a damn minute!" Marchosias raised his voice. It amused Death since he was always level headed. "What do you mean by other dimension!?"
"Mort will open a portal for us to walk through it. We'll end up in another dimension. Don't worry, it's perfectly safe and we can come back after Mort is done with his job."
"What kind of job requires a person to go to another dimension!? No wait, that's not it! How can a person open up a rift between dimensions!? It's theoretically impossible."
"And Magic was supposed to be impossible to Parasites as well." Marcaunon chided. "There's nothing impossible when it comes down to Magic, just highly improbable. You should know better than that, Marchosias Gaunt."
Marchosias could only imitate a fish out of water – as if he could not believe that he was actually lectured about Magic by Marcaunon of all people. Death on the other hand, knew that this was all simply a distraction.
True to his thoughts, Marcaunon signaled for Death to open up a portal whilst Marchosias's brain was still fried. It sighed at Its Master's childishness (and need to prolong the inevitable) and poked the air in front of It. A portal soon opened and without another word, Death scooped the little Lord (ignoring the squeak) into Its arms and walked into his portal, Marcaunon following not far behind.
Date: Unknown
Location: Unknown
Dimension: Unknown
POV: Marcaunon
"GAAAAAAAAAH!" The three heard the moment they stepped out of Death's portal (Chaos still on Death's hip). He turned his head to the direction of the scream, wondering who the hell was screaming in this… tunnel…? Cave…?
He raised a brow at Death, who only shrugged and tightened Its hold on Chaos; who was demanding to be let down. Was this another error (yeah right) on Death's part? The place they were in was some kind of cave with a wide path, however the strange thing was the walls that were on either side of them. They were purple and looked like they were melted before. He resisted the urge to touch it – it might be poisonous and even if he were immune thanks to the basilisk venom currently running through his veins, Chaos didn't know. His son would definitely panic at his recklessness.
"WHY DO WE HAVE TO GO THROUGH THIS PLACE AGAIN!?" A voice shouted in Japanese. His ears twitched and he almost winced at how loud said voice was. It was male if his ears heard correctly – maybe a teenager?
"Official my ass! It's exactly the same as before! ARE THEY PLAYING WITH US!?" The same voice shouted, filled with frustration and a hint of disbelieved annoyance.
"Only Soul Reapers are able to use the Hell butterfly." An elderly male's voice deadpanned. "Stop complaining and run!"
The voice got nearer to them and before their very eyes, a portal opened at the opposite side of the voice, near them. He could only blink, bewildered, whilst little Chaos stopped punching Death's chest in favor of staring at the newly opened portal.
"Eh? Who are they? What the hell are they doing here?" The first voice said in confusion.
The three turned around and could only stare at how weirdly dressed those Parasi–… no, not Parasites. They had power. So Mortals then. They could only stare at the weirdly dressed Mortals, who were running to them as if their lives depended on it.
"No idea, but look! We're almost at the exit!" The… cat yelled back. Well, he saw weirder things before than a talking feline, and perhaps in this dimension, talking cats were a norm.
When the group of teenagers (and cat) neared them, the orange haired teen grabbed ahold of Death by Its forearm (the one not carrying Chaos), and dragged It towards the exit, whilst a dark haired teen in white grabbed onto him. He looked over to Death, who only deadpanned as It flew after Its kidnapper. Seeing that Death had no complains, Marcaunon followed his servant's example.
They only had to run a few more seconds before they exited the portal. Everybody suddenly looked down when they felt no footing.
"Eh…?" The orange haired teen worded it nicely. It was probably on everyone's mind anyway.
"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" The group of Mortals screamed in panic as they all fell from mid-air, which the portal had opened at. Oh… Death would get an earful if It was the cause of this.
As he was debating on whether or not to just alter the gravity around them, he saw Chaos burying his face into Death's chest cutely. It distracted Marcaunon, who decided that cooing at his son's adorable behavior was better than saving them all.
The group was then suddenly engulfed by what felt like a huge blanket, and huddled tightly inside. It was severely uncomfortable (claustrophobic) and he hoped that nobody had had direct skin contact with Death. These Mortals were fascinating and he wanted to study their energy (and mind rape them).
"What the hell is thiiiiiisss!?" He heard the orange haired teen exclaim, and this time, he did wince. Who the hell shouts into another person's ear!? With none the wiser, he kicked the teen's cheek, feeling loads better afterwards. "Gah! Who kicked me!?"
"Alright! Here it comes!" He heard a young child's voice from outside of their giant blanket ball, and could only groan as the Mortals yelled out their confusion. "Jinta… HOME RU– WAH!"
"Tessai Death Catch!"
The blanket they were in suddenly kept going round and round and round, much to horror. He felt awfully green.
"Urgh… I'm gunna throw up!" He heard someone murmur. Oh he hoped not.
The blanket like thingy was suddenly off of them, much to his relief, and Marcaunon could only blink at the change of scenery. Their limbs were currently entangled together atop a flying carpet, with a man with a green and white hat welcoming the Mortals back. This dimension just got a lot weirder.
Date: 31 May 1967
Location: Slytherin Manor
An owl dropped a parchment atop a mahogany table, before it flew out of the opened window it had previously came from. On the parchment, a neatly yet hurriedly writing could be seen, clear as day – in green ink.
Permission for a one year sick leave from work.
Will already be gone once this note is sent.
-Ignatius Rose
P.S. I'm not running away, and will be back soon. Don't look for me.
A/N: Ahahahha~ Another Xover! So… anyone could guess which dimension Marc, Chaos, and Death landed in?
[1] The quote is from FMA (Fullmetal Alchemist) by Hiromu Arakawa. I did tweak it a little though. I'm sure Marc's heart is not metal. Fuahahaha.
Wow. This is, by far, the longest time I took to update my story. I sincerely apologize for the delay. I was quite busy in preparing for job interviews you see. I was so nervous that I constantly felt like puking. I couldn't concentrate on writing this chapter. The ideas and images in my mind were clear as day, however when I wrote them down… They turned out… regrettably disappointing. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter (rewrite count: 6).
Okay so… Reviews I guess.
The only reason why I did not warn my readers that there will be Incest is due to the fact that it would spoil basically everything. You all should already know that Marc is originally Harry Potter, and Charlie, or Charlus, is his original grandfather. Meaning that he had been fucked by his own grandfather, and that that would make James, who was supposedly his father, now his nephew because Chaos is James's half-brother, and this makes Marc the stepmother/uncle of James… Not to mention that Voldemort is his second cousin, since their Gaunt grandfathers are siblings. Silk Roads is full of incestuous relationships so I do not blame you if you drop this story because some of you feel disgusted by family members having intercourse with one another. We all have different tastes after all. Once again, you have my sincere apologies for not giving you a head warning – it's all in the name of not spoiling my story. Now I can give warning though, since it's obvious.
Story recommendation for today: The Emerald Terror by Suzume Jun. This is a time travel fic where Harry was sent back to the past to Tom's… Sixth year I think. The future was in war between Magicals and Muggles (these types of stories are my favourites!), and Harry was the remaining 40 or so left. Their base was breached, and Mione dear sent Harry to the past. It's still kind of new, so don't expect many chapters just yet! Tom/Harry pairing, Time travel, Master of Death!Harry.
Rainbows and Incest,
GenderlessPerson