AN: Before I start with this chapter, I want to give some info: Voldemort does NOT know that it was Regulus who took the Horcrux. Barty retrieved all the Horcruxes, but out of fear for Voldemort's reaction, he only told his Lord that the locket was missing, not that he found a fake one with a note in its place. As Regulus is already dead, Barty deduced that it might do more harm than good to Voldemort's sanity to know that Regulus had actively sought to destroy him instead of 'only' leaving his side.
Aside from that, here an answer to the reviews of Fivefatducks: Regulus does not have any moving paintings, as he died quite young. (I honestly think that if there would have been one, Harry would have found it to aid in the Horcrux-hunt in canon. I am glad that you like Voldemort's appearance and effects, I also much prefer how he looks now over the typical 'older Tom Riddle' look haha.
Enjoy!
Chapter 45 – End of Summer
All eyes were on him in the meeting, a buzz of brimming excitement hung in the air. Voldemort had never thought that he would come to even slightly enjoy the part he played as head of the national press. The job was hectic, with unregular schedules and many idiotic people to deal with without being able to hex someone within an inch of their life. Yet there was also something to be said for the way that enthusiastic employees came to him with ideas, how they listened to him attentively and tried to carry out his words because they agreed full heartedly. Not because they had to, not out of fear. It was… a very different experience from how he ran the Death Eaters. Of course, this environment was much harder to maintain. He couldn't let his anger show to the extent he wanted to and had to be careful about removing unwanted staff to not break down the morale or cause suspicion. It was good practise for when he would set foot in the political scene personally.
''We have exhausted the source material for the stories about this trade,'' his assistant reported. ''We have received many letters from our readers. We could perhaps work with that.''
''There is little we can answer truthfully at the moment,'' Voldemort decided, picking up one such letter. ''Questions about the scale or level of the threat, the possibility of exaggeration on the part of these Beings, how many countries are involved… No, we can only answer inquiries regarding concrete, legal issues, nothing more. I wish you to investigate deeper into the mentioned involved parties and see if they can be linked to other crimes. Furthermore, I have heard rumours of different organisations stirring up at this news. I need information on that.''
''Organisations?'' one of his reporters asked. ''You mean Dumbledore's?''
Voldemort felt his eye twitch. That had been unpleasant news indeed. He couldn't even begin to guess why the Order of the Phoenix cared for a mainly continental issue involving dark creatures.
Was the headmaster trying to use this to gain back popularity? Dumbledore had taken quite a blow at his openly spoken concerns about Voldemort's return and activity of Death Eaters. That had been a massive headache to deal with as he tried to take control of the chaos that had ensued after Rosier's revelation. The only relief had come in the form of a very stubborn government led by Fudge who refused to accept the truth as it was, so they wouldn't have to take action. Voldemort had been more than happy to keep mostly silent about it in the Prophet apart from the mandatory small article over it happening, painting Rosier as a senile old man who had gone crazy over the death of his son. In the eyes of the public, this meant that Dumbledore, who had before speculated that Barty had not worked on his own and now claimed that the Dark Lord had returned without any further apparent proof, took the words of a Death Eater more seriously than those of the Minister of Magic himself. Needless to say, not many believed Dumbledore outright and had even taken to scoffing at the name in the span of barely a month. That was only on the surface however, Voldemort did not know how many people secretly questioned the official answers.
''The Order of the Phoenix?'' he asked, sighing deeply to show just what he thought of them. ''Them as well, I suppose. I doubt they will do much if I am honest. The only sources that confirmed their interest also gave me some insight in how they work. This is not the structured organisation it was during the last Wizarding war. Dumbledore gathered the leftovers of this old crew and added whoever believes his speculations. It appears that rather than taking orders, each member works only on what they feel is right when Dumbledore wants to get something done. They are busier discussing among themselves if this is worth their attention than actually doing something about it.'' His staff muttered amongst themselves for a while at that. He smiled thinly. Voldemort had ensured very early on that no-one questioned his own sources.
''I have heard from our other branch that there are many whispers in the streets of Paris.''
''Whispers of what, McDougal?'' he asked the woman with barely veiled annoyance. ''Speak clearly, we do not have all day for this meeting.''
''Yes Sir,'' Larissa Macdougal scowled, one of his reporters for international news. ''Whispers of a new party, unaffiliated with any government, making promises to take care of this problem.'' Voldemort narrowed his eyes. He'd expected the news to spread amongst Beings, but hadn't thought that any of them would talk to humans about it. He was also certain of that Miss Delacour was smarter than that. Thinking quickly, he replied:
''Third parties are difficult to track down, it could be no more than whispers. Let us concentrate first on organisations we know the existence of like the Witches Coven of white magic, the Mediterranean Mages for Support of Magical Mammals, the National Union of Tactful Sages, the Creature Support Assembly, and even the Anarchist Union. And yes, the Order of the Phoenix too. We have to gauge their views on this issue. I will keep this supposed new player in mind in case we find that any unknown party suddenly acts.''
''What about the International Confederation of Wizards? This issue got political as soon as it was known that politicians from across Europe are involved.''
''We haven't had a statement from them yet,'' Voldemort spoke. ''However, it is unlikely that the International Confederation will do much. After all, Dumbledore is the supreme Mugwump of the ICW, why would he try to mobilise the Order of the Phoenix instead, if he could use a much larger and more respected organisation? The fact that he prefers his little terror group to take care of this speaks volumes. Belby, I'm sure you can give me insight as to why?'' he asked, casting a glance at the small, nervous wizard who sat to his right. The senior assistant had reminded him so much of Wormtail at first that he'd completely been overlooked, until that one meeting where Belby had been the only person to ask an intelligent question. Ever since, he found that while Belby was a nervous wreck and easily intimidated, the man had a sharp brain that noticed sharp things others did not. It had earned the man a firm place by his side, and the Dark Lord was considering to have Belby replace his current personal assistant, who was getting more and more annoying with her little crush.
The senior assistant cleared his throat and spoke in his feeble, whispery voice: ''While the ICW was founded to be an independent, international organisation, fact remains that all members are representatives of their respective Ministries. If doubts are being cast on politicians of certain countries, things may get hectic with internal organisation. It has been rumoured for years that the Portuguese representative has a pet mermaid on her property. It was always a bit of an inside joke that hardly anyone took seriously, but in the light of recent events, there may well have been truth to it. Also, Dumbledore and Minister Fudge have a falling out at the moment due to the Headmaster of Hogwarts spreading panic about the former Dark Lord rising. Fudge can withdraw Dumbledore as a member of the ICW and in result leave the organisation without a Supreme Mugwump. What good would starting investigations do right now if they might end up in chaos when Fudge decides he's had enough of Dumbledore? Combined with the previous mentioned internal problems, it would leave the ICW scrambling for a new leader, which might take months. Or years. In conclusion, it is unlikely that they will mobilise their forces unless the matter is already clear-cut and they only need to arrest people who have already been irrefutably proven to have committed international crimes.''
''Which will be a long time from now, I'm sure. The entire matter is murky and mutual distrust between humans and non-humans isn't helping matters. Focus on the groups I mentioned before.'' Voldemort ordered, pleased as all of his staff members nodded in agreement.
They went on to discuss further projects -the paper could not run by focusing on only the main issue at hand- and Voldemort finally closed the meeting. By the end of it, he was tired and desperately wished he had a bit of time to get an hour of sleep in before the next planned meeting for the day with his Ministry spies. He didn't have time, he never had. Things had been easier when he'd still had a follower in the Department of Mysteries and he'd been able to occasionally borrow a time turner from there without raising suspicion. But Rookwood was imprisoned now and even if he'd ever be freed, it was unlikely that the man could take up his former position. He'd considered building a time-turner himself, then had rejected the idea when concluding that it would most likely take up the better part of the coming year to do so, if he even obtained all necessary materials.
He apparated home, went through the entrance that granted access to the dimensional bubble in which his house stood, and granted himself exactly two minutes of rest and a glass of water before dropping his disguise. He ignored Nagini's worried hisses about his sleep schedule and called his followers. Less than ten minutes later, Corban Yaxley and Lucius Malfoy sat at his dining table.
''Most members of the Wizengamot appear to be opposed to the idea,'' Corban spoke instantly, rushing the words as if that would make them better. He appeared to be no less stressed than Voldemort, only worse at hiding it. The tight braid he always wore was slowly coming undone, stray hairs peeking out and falling to the sides of Corban's face. ''I have spoken to many members by now and I always get the same answers. Changing or adding laws, any laws, is seen as undesirable as long as it is not a reaction to an immediate problem. They do not want more work and hassle for something that has been working.''
Voldemort let out a slow hiss in displeasure. They rejected the idea of introducing new laws because of laziness? The nerve. He had asked Corban to probe around to get an overview of how best to introduce the idea of drafting up a full, separate law system for the Wizarding community instead of relying on Muggle laws that hardly anyone knew or had access to. The next step would have been to present the ones he had created one by one, starting first with all that were currently ungoverned by the Ministry of magic. These would have been the least controversial to introduce, paving the way for reforms of existing magical laws. ''How many are in favour?''
''Thirteen percent of active members, accounting for seventeen percent of seats, mostly our own people. Most members are still fully on Dumbledore's side as well. He is the supreme Chief Warlock.''
Corban went on the describe who exactly was on their side in this and Voldemort did some quick math in his head. 7 of 54 people were in favour, who held 23 of the available 135 seats. Since not all members were active though, at least thirty seats weren't in use at the moment. The Potter family held two, the Black family four… If he played his cards right, those were six additional seats that he would be able to use once Harry was a legal adult and hopefully inherited Black's seats. While that would not solve his predicament now, it was something to think about in long terms. Perhaps he should wait with radical changes until then. For now, he had to concentrate on getting these imbecilic rodents to do their actual jobs.
It would be so much easier if there would be a separate institution for law creation instead of that being an additional Task for the Wizengamot. It just showed how alarmingly little change was being implemented in their society when law-making was a side task of the High court instead of a full-time job for a Parliament like in functioning countries. As much as he loved Britain and wanted to own it, sometimes he wished to burn it to ash for the stupidity of its people.
And to avoid headaches, the very first thing he would do as Emperor or whatever other title he'd give himself -Emperor sounded nice though-, would be pushing through the proper constitution he'd written down on paper instead of leaving it to several generations of legislators and judges to make a contradicting mess of it all with an uncodified constitution. Especially when considering parliamentary sovereignty. He would definitely not take that mind-blowing garbage over from Muggle Britain.
''Dumbledore might not be Supreme Warlock for long.'' It was the hope he clung onto. Until Dumbledore was removed from that position, there was little he could do. ''He's been riling Fudge up for too long and is getting more and more pushy about spreading the word that I am back. Perhaps Fudge will need only a few more of those pushes until deciding that Dumbledore is unfit to have such power.''
''I could take on Fudge,'' Lucius suggested. ''He is exceptionally susceptible to suggestions over a lavish dinner. I have fully convinced him that I am one of the few members on the Board of Hogwarts governors he can still trust to not take Dumbledore's side, backed by my frequent attempts to oppose Dumbledore openly.''
''It does not seem that the Minister was very supportive of your latest action as governor,'' Voldemort spoke with a touch of frost in his voice. ''Banning a book from the Hogwarts library because it stars a romance between a witch and a Muggle? That either gives people the idea that you are a blood-supremist, which Fudge is against, or that you are getting desperate in finding ways to make Dumbledore's life harder. Even if you pray that our dear Minister thought the latter, we need to make him believe that we have credible evidence that Dumbledore is insane. Which I have no doubt you will find with a little bit more effort put in.''
Lucius bowed his head slightly. ''That ruse was admittedly a tad too transparent, My Lord. Forgive me. I shall do my utmost best to oppose Dumbledore with subtler issues that reflect negatively on his character and actions instead.'' He wetted his lips nervously, obviously wishing to justify his actions to avoid punishment. ''However, if you allow me to say so, at the time I needed an excuse to cast Minister Fudge's attention on my feud with Dumbledore again and it worked. I was the first person on the Board he spoke to once Dumbledore started his theories about Crouch Junior.''
''Crouch,'' Voldemort corrected harshly without acknowledging Lucius' justification, getting irritated. Lucius blinked and looked confused. ''Crouch Senior is dead, so omit the Junior. I do think that Bartemius deserves your respect of not being referred to only in relation to his filthy father.'' Anyone at school who had dared to refer to him -even jokingly- by his full name of Tom Riddle Junior, had suffered the bad end of his wand once he knew his father was a Muggle.
''Of course, my Lord,'' the man mumbled, although Voldemort could see signs of rising hostility in the man. He inwardly sighed over Lucius' fragile ego and spoke:
''I understand the circumstances, the results are what matters. Regardless of your intentions, Hogwarts really could do without a piece of 'literature' like the Fountain of fair Fortune. Rest assured that writing spreading dangerous ideas about copulation with Muggles will not be tolerated under my reign. If this strengthened your ties to Fudge, good, but be more careful next time.'' Lucius relaxed and looked rather victorious. ''Well then, I will leave Fudge to you for now. Try to play on the idea that Dumbledore is getting in far too deep by actually using all the titles that were bestowed upon him over the years. Stress that Fudge does not need the support of this man anymore after being in office for so long. Corban, it will be useless and perhaps even suspicious if you keep pressing about new laws. Try to warm the Wizengamot up to Dumbledore leaving his position so there will not be an outrage when Fudge strips the old fool of his title. It is unfortunate that none can cast him entirely out of the Wizengamot, but his family only has a single seat so that is no cause for worry.''
Two 'Yes, my Lord's were uttered, following sharp intakes of breath as Nagini entered and heaved her massive body up the table, curling up in front of him like the demanding beast she was. It appeared that she sometimes forgot that she wasn't two feet anymore and did not entirely fit the width of the dining table. Slowly, he started stroking her scales, berating his pet would only cause to sour her mood and he did not wish to hear passive aggressive comments all evening.
''The remaining point of discussion is the slave trade in Europe,'' Voldemort spoke. ''There is not much time left before we move. Have the reactions in the Ministry changed any since last time?
Corban shook his head. ''Still denial and disbelief.''
''Good. That will prevent anyone from interrupting. Lucius, your home is ready to receive so many visitors?''
''My house-elf has had everything cleaned and cleared out. Even the pond is in pristine condition.''
''Your house-elf? You gave it permission to pass the barriers?''
''It follows my orders, which was to prepare the rooms. How it got there is not my concern, only that it did,'' Lucius commented with a slight air of surprise. Voldemort supposed that Lucius did not really give his servants much thought usually. ''My Lord, what will we do with saltwater beings such as sirens or selkies?''
''A different accommodation has been prepared for those on the southern coast. There is a cave system which I merely needed to expand and hide.'' He'd chosen a similar spot to where he'd placed one of his Horcruxes in the past. Not exactly at the same spot in case Dumbledore went looking for the locket, but close by.
Thoughts of the locket still filled him with rage, even if there was nothing he could do about his missing Horcrux. He did not know who had taken it, how, or even when. When Barty had come home with all of the Horcruxes and had found the locket missing, Voldemort's thoughts had instantly gone to Dumbledore. However, it had appeared that for once, the old fool was not the culprit, otherwise he would not have shown Harry memories of it. No, Dumbledore was still on the hunt and even more clueless than Voldemort was about the locket's whereabouts. At least he knew that it wasn'tin its original hiding spot, which would be the first place the Headmaster would look after puzzling together the clues. He'd still left the protections in the cave intact. Who knew when a lake filled with Inferi and a Nightmare Potion would come in handy. In fact, he had a couple of nice ideas about that already.
Voldemort pushed the Horcrux dilemmas aside. Without any sort of lead, he would get nowhere when investing time and effort into a fruitless search across the globe. He had other matters to focus on now. Lucius might say that all accommodations were ready for the horde of beings and beasts they would save, Voldemort found it hard to trust his follower's word on that. Putting them all together under one roof wasn't a fool-proof plan. Neither did they have the resources and knowledge available to know what each species would need other than food. Still, a temporary solution was better than none, and he also got practise in for dimensional shifting again. He certainly needed it if he wished to hide the entirety of the Wizarding world with it one day in the future.
''That was all for now then,'' he decided. There was much left to do that did not consist of meetings.
Perhaps he really could close his eyes for a bit… it was regrettable that his irregular sleeping schedule meant that he was barely ever asleep at night. He'd wished to keep an eye on Harry, but that was nigh impossible when they did not sleep at the same time. The few times he had miraculously had a few hours at night, he hadn't been able to reach the boy after that one time. He chalked it up to a lack of concentration, perhaps on both ends, and on bad luck. With how fickle their mental connection was, it was always a guess in the first place when a dream connection would fully establish. Perhaps he could look up spells to help with that if he found the time… it was highly annoying to be cut off from Harry so completely, especially with how suddenly the teen had needed to leave. Next summer was far away…
~You're sad again,~ Nagini hissed. He jerked his head up, not having realised how far into thoughts he'd fallen. Both of his followers were gone, and it took a moment to remember that he'd dismissed them. ~Is it about Harrison?~
~I told you his name isn't Harrison,~ he snapped. She instantly reared her head and stared at him with glinting eyes.
~I did nothing to be mad at,~ she snapped back, sounding hurt. ~It is your own fault for sending him away to other people.~
~I am not sad!~ he returned, getting highly annoyed
~Denial won't bring you a thing,~ she replied, then promptly slid off the table again, her body heavily thudding on the wooden floor.
~What in the world are you getting at? Nagini!~ But she was already gone, and Voldemort had time nor energy to devote to the fickle moods of his companion.
About two hundred miles away, Harry was having the exact same problem. He lay on bed and dispassionately watched as Ron was stressing out completely. The school lists had just arrived, together with their results from last year. Harry wasn't entirely sure how his school notes had even been put together, for he hadn't done any of the regular exams and hadn't kept track much on his homework grades or small tests, in between trying to survive the Tournament. Luckily, his grades were average to good when not counting Divination, so he was slightly relieved about that. Ron's were roughly the same, and neither of them had received anything besides their book list and notes.
''I don't understand why they only came today!'' Ron said. ''Mum will be a banshee, having to buy everything on the very last day before school. And just imagine how Diagon will look!'' he looked the list over once again. ''Theory of Magical defence' doesn't sound thrilling, wonder who they dragged out of a ditch this year for the position.''
Harry hummed. He'd be incredibly surprised if Dumbledore managed to find anyone worthy of filling Lupin's and Barty's shoes. Doubtful.
With a loud bang, Fred and George apparated into the room and let themselves fall on Ron's bed as if it was their own. ''We were already wondering who put that new book on the list,'' Fred spoke, leading Harry to suspect that they'd been listening in on the conversation before already. It was a miracle that the Twins hadn't found out about Ron and Harry using magic too in the house. Or maybe they had and were waiting for a prime opportunity of using 'Ron used underage magic' as blackmail to their mum. ''Became time that Dumbledore found a teacher, we heard mum and dad talking a couple weeks back about that Dumbledore was having real trouble finding anyone willing to fill the position, what with the fates of their predecessors.
''True; dead, memory loss, fired, vanished…'' Harry spoke airily. ''I wager that the next one has to either be a madman or extremely desperate.''
''Or both,'' George threw in. ''Maybe we should start a betting pool for what happens to the next one. Poisoned by Snape might be a popular opinion. So, onto the reason we came here: do we need to congratulate our new Prefect?'' he spoke with a gleaming grin that promised ridicule and pranks.
Harry yawned and shook his head. ''Sorry to deprive you of a target, but neither Ron nor I got a badge.''
Instantly, Fred jumped up to hug Ron. ''There is some decency left in the family!'' he exclaimed. ''Blessed be this day! We already feared you'd listened to Percy a tad too much over the course of your short and feeble life.''
''Who'd listen to Percy? Ouch, Fred, get off me!'' Ron shoved his laughing brother away and threw him a glare. Rubbing his sore neck, he huffed: ''There's no doubt about Hermione becoming a Prefect, good luck trying to prank her and getting a thousand points deducted.'' Both Twins made a face at and in that moment, Harry decided that they had rightfully deduced that Hermione was too scary to bother.
''We still thought you would get it,'' Fred continued, addressing Harry again. ''Champion of the Triwizard Tournament and all. Damn, you killed a Basilisk so the school could stay open!''
Harry merely shrugged his shoulders, unable to gather the energy to care much. ''I was also nearly expelled a couple of times and my grades aren't outstanding either. I probably gave them too much trouble.'' Then there was also the little thing about Dumbledore knowing he'd used dark magic more than once. Even if the Headmaster trusted him again for now, surely he would have spoken against making Harry a Prefect for that alone. ''I do wonder who got it.''
''Neville is out,'' Ron said. ''Not to be mean but… he's only good at Herbology and far too scared of anyone and anything to do something in prickly situations. Besides, imagine Neville having to patrol the castle at night, he'd run off scared. I'm personally hoping it's Dean. He'll be the most relaxed about it. I'm sure that Seamus would actually dock points when knowing we're sneaking out.''
''True… that would suck.''
''Why, you are not suggesting that you want to sneak out of the common room!'' Fred gasped.
''At night!'' George spoke with equal drama, a hand to his chest.
''Oh shut up,'' Ron grumbled, throwing Harry's pillow at them, which Harry regretted allowing when the Twins caught it and promptly set it on fire. He was really rather glad that neither he nor Ron got a Prefect badge. Added responsibility and visibility was not high up on his wishlist at the moment, and as he was sure that Hermione would become a Prefect, Ron being promoted to Prefect as well might have become one more thing standing between the three of them. After all, Ron was rather lax when it came to rules and Harry had no doubt that Hermione would have constantly have to scold Ron to actually do his job, causing frustration and fights. Also, if Harry was completely honest, he didn't want to be left all alone either. So, he relished in the news that his best friend had no added duties either.
When the Twins finally left, with much convincing from Ron, the boy said: ''I didn't think of that Mione would probably be a Prefect this year. We could use the time she has patrols or meetings to practise our Animagus form.''
''That's a brilliant idea!'' Harry said, actually getting excited. It had been hard to be excited about anything these past weeks. The days had passed in an exhausting blur in which he'd passed the time with trivial things even as he felt something heavy starting to weigh on him.
Realistically, he knew it was the Horcrux, the locket burned or went ice-cold at times, or throbbed as if it had a heartbeat. Ginny had been right to warn him, Harry knew that. But what else could he do than wear it? Telling anyone, even Sirius, about its existence or dangers, could lead to its destruction, and he had no possibility of contacting Voldemort. Tomorrow, he thought. Tomorrow evening, he would be able to use the two-way mirror to speak to Barty about it so they could figure something out, perhaps speak to Voldemort himself.
He let himself fall on the bed again while Ron went downstairs to show his mother the booklist. They had decided that a small group of people would go to Diagon to not flood the street too much. As Harry needed to finally get some money from Gringotts again and he was somehow uncomfortable trusting other people with his vault key now he knew that the Goblins also had some other private information about him, he had insisted on coming with. That decision had at first been met with heavy protest until Sirius threatened that if Harry wouldn't be allowed to come with, he would go instead and that none could stop him. That argument had finally won, as no-one was willing to risk Sirius' discovery. It was unfortunate that they did not have any Polyjuice potion at the moment -Snape had been quite absent, stating he was busy, ever since the talk with Harry - and Disillusion spells or an invisibility cloak would become obvious in a crowd.
He did feel rather sorry for Mrs Weasley when they arrived at the Leaky Cauldron and were immediately separated by dozens of other children and their parents all frantically trying to rush to Diagon Alley from the pub, to get the necessary items the day before school started. Making one's displeasure about the whole situation known and cussing out the Hogwarts staff turned out to be popular conversation topics among shoppers and shopkeepers alike. The poor clerk at Flourish and Blotts looked even more close to breaking down than he had when Hagrid's Monster Book of Monsters had been on the list. Harry, deciding that trying to find the others like this wasn't going to happen anytime soon, weaved his own way through the mass of people, first doing the necessary shopping with what money he had left in his coin pouch, and finally going to Gringotts, figuring that it would be best as the last stop. It was the largest building out of all and even if the Weasleys had visited before, he was sure that he'd be easier to spot when standing on top of the staircase leading to the doors after he was done.
''I have my key this time,'' Harry sheepishly said, going up to the goblin who'd helped him in July. The creature blinked slowly at him, black eyes revealing no hint of the humour having been appreciated, which instantly made nervous sweat appear on the palms of his hands. ''Errr, I was here last month? Didn't have my key then.''
''I know, Mr Potter,'' came the clipped answer. ''You wish to enter your Vault?''
''Yeah. Well, the trust fund one,'' he said, placing the key on the counter for the Goblin to inspect. ''Still haven't figured out where the key to the other one is, no-one ever gave it to me and my guardians don't have it either.'' He'd casually brought the second vault up in conversation with Sirius before and had loudly wondered where the key to it might be. His godfather hadn't been able to answer with more than speculations, so it was obvious that Sirius didn't have it. As Dumbledore had also held the trust vault key for some reason, Harry had a suspicion he knew where it was, and also where it was likely to remain until he turned seventeen. Asking Dumbledore about it would reveal that he'd seen his papers and thus his knowledge over the Headmaster not having any legal power over him. That wasn't something he was willing to tell the man.
''Your key has been stolen?'' the Goblin hissed, leaning forwards, making Harry take a quick step back.
''I… I don't know. My parents left these vaults to me when I was one year old. My Muggle guardians have no knowledge of it and my magical guardian has never been handed either of the keys. This one,'' he said, gesturing to the one at the counter, ''was kept safe by Albus Dumbledore and given to me when I turned eleven. I didn't even know of a second account till last month.''
''I see… one moment please.'' The Goblin abruptly slid form his chair and went through a door in the wall again. Harry sighed deeply, wondering if he'd have to wait as long as last time. He was wrong, it took even much longer. It felt like ages had passed when a familiar voice called out to him.
''Well well, Potter. Found new friends to hang out with? They're certainly wealthier, I approve.''
''Malfoy, bugger off,'' Harry groaned. ''I thought we agreed to be civil?'' He turned around to see Malfoy and two other Slytherins, neither of whom were Crabbe and Goyle to his surprise. Instead, he vaguely recognised them both and deduced that they were higher year students. The Quidditch team, that must be it. Or what was left of it. Flint was gone now, and both Beaters would have had their last year of Quidditch last school year if Quidditch would not have been cancelled. After wracking his brain a bit, he was able to put names to the faces: Warrington and Pucey. Pucey had been a Chaser until the end of 1993 and had been replaced with Warrington after for some unknown reason. Harry wondered if he was back on the Team again now to replace Flint, or if he just hung out with Malfoy more often. Somehow, Harry had thought that the reason for replacement had been graduation, but that appeared to not be the case if he was shopping in Diagon today. Well, he didn't generally pay much attention to the Slytherins.
''I am being civil, Potter,'' Draco huffed, striding up to him and giving him a one-over. ''I am talking to you, after all.''
''And manage to insult both me and my friends in the first sentence, if that is a normal conversation to all of you, I'm so very grateful for being in Gryffindor.'' Warrington let out an undignified snort for which Malfoy threw him a foul look. ''What?'' Harry said, a tad aggressive.
''Come now Potter, after everything we heard from Draco, you need not pretend that you are really a Gryffindor,'' Pucey spoke with a secretive smile on his admittedly rather handsome face.
The Goblin appeared again at last, so Harry did not respond with more than a whispered 'You are so dead, Malfoy,'' before turning around and trying to ignore the Slytherins. Irritably, they just kept standing there as he continued the conversation from before with the Goblin.
''Your main bank account has not been touched since 1981. This would also not have been allowed without a permission slip from you or your legal guardians, but it is standard protocol to ensure this on such occasions. I advise you to freeze the account nonetheless, as permission slips can be forged, and the one who might possess your key at this moment could use this.'' It appeared that he wasn't alone in his suspicions of Dumbledore having it then.
''Is there no way to track the key somehow?'' he asked.
The goblin grimaced. ''If there was, that would be rather poor security. No, you will have to procure it on your own or go through a legal process of closing your bank account and opening a new one, both of which can only be done with either the permission from both of your guardians or when you are of age.''
''Well shit, one of them is a Muggle,'' Harry grumbled. ''Anyways, thank you for the effort. Erhm…'' he took a moment to recall the phrase the Goblin had spoken to him last month. ''Degamih i sonlouri,'' he spoke, stumbling a bit over the foreign syllables. He still wasn't entirely sure what it meant, but from context he'd gathered it was a sort of polite goodbye phrase, so it couldn't hurt to use. Hopefully. He stared up in the inky eyes of the Goblin for a fearful moment. The creature's mouth split into a disturbing grin that showed the spiky, needle-like teeth. ''Saomeit ou,'' the Goblin replied, a strange sound that was almost like a light giggle coming from his throat. ''Griphook will escort you to your vault now.''
Harry nodded and wanted to walk to the other end of the hall where the guide goblin Griphook was waiting, when his path was blocked by the three Slytherins. Malfoy gave him a strange look. ''You speak Gobbledegook?''
''No, but this might be good life advice for you,'' Harry said. ''Being civil includes actually being invested in your conversation partner, no matter who they are. That might include a few key phrases in other languages. Oh yes, and an absence of insults also does miracles. See you around Malfoy.''
''Wait,'' Pucey called out when he rushed past them. Taking a huge inward sigh, he stiffly turned towards them a last time. The teen stepped closer to Harry and leaned down a bit, whispering: ''If certain rumours are true, we -that is Warrington and myself – would love to get to know you a bit better. The Slytherin Prefects always throw a party at the start of the year, after the Feast. We're still missing a guest of honour.''
Harry looked at Malfoy and hoped his eyes conveyed how much he was dying inside right now. ''Such rumours shouldn't exist in the first place.'' Then, he steeled himself. He had been the one who'd wished to see if he and Malfoy could actually be less juvenile this year and start working together. ''I'll see if I have time and opportunity, you must understand that a trip from the seventh floor to the dungeons at night without being spotted is not the easiest feat, definitely not as I'm sure one of my close friends is a Prefect this year.''
''Oh, I'm a Prefect too, Potter,'' Draco smugly said. ''So no worries about being caught out at night.
''Hmm, misusing your power already,'' Harry said with a strained smile. ''Wonderful. I really have to go now. Maybe come find me on the Hogwarts Express, we might have some things to discuss first.'' Thoughts and worries of Draco Malfoy occupied his thoughts during the ride down to his vault. Had Malfoy not been sworn to silence? What did the Slytherin hope to gain from spreading information about Harry? How much had Lucius told his son? For surely, Draco had to know more than last year, he wouldn't risk his reputation for spreading only the knowledge that Harry was somehow on the Dark side. He could have done that months ago if that would have been enough.
Harry took enough gold from his vault to easily last the year and absentmindedly said goodbye to the Goblin who brought him upstairs again. He wanted to step outside to see if he could spot any of the Weasleys, when a small group of people drew his attention: two very out-of-place-looking Muggles and their daughter. ''Hermione!'' he exclaimed, ignoring the fact that the usual elation he felt at seeing his friend after a long time of absence didn't follow. Hermione certainly did feel it, her eyes practically lit up when she turned around.
''Harry!'' she squealed, enveloping him in a hug. ''Oh my, it is so great to see you! I have so much to tell you!''
''I wish I could say the same,'' he spoke. ''My summer was much more boring than one would expect when spending it at the headquarters of a secret order,'' he said with a wry smile. ''I'm sure that Ron will moan a lot about it for the first couple of days too, but don't be too hard on him for it. It really was disappointingly dull. The only good thing about it was that Ron and Snuffles were there.''
''That was only one month though, wasn't it?'' Hermione reminded him. ''How was France?''
''Oh. That,'' Harry said, drawing a blank. He had forgotten that he might be expected to talk about his supposed time with Dixie again. ''Errr, fine, but she didn't like much that I left early. To be honest, I think she might be quite mad at me, haven't heard from her since so…'' He hoped that was an appropriate explanation for why he didn't want to talk about it. ''Saw some pretty nice sights while there though. Went to the grave of Merlin.''
''I've been there too!'' Hermione enthusiastically said. ''Last summer, my parents and I went to some magical sites in France.
''Did you now?'' Harry asked in surprise. ''I didn't know that Muggles could even enter that town.''
''Ah, not the town, only the grave,'' Hermione smiled sadly. ''There are unfortunately indeed rather strict separation rules there. I wish it didn't have to be that way. Well, hopefully the future will be more inclusive.'' Harry tried not to shuffle uncomfortably at the sudden reminder of that they wanted entirely different things. He doubted his own views would be appreciated here. He thus didn't reply to it at all, rather switching topics.
''I'm sure you have much more to tell about your current holiday,'' he spoke. ''Does Viktor have a nice house?''
''Harry!'' Hermione cried out, slapping his head playfully, her cheeks getting red. ''My parents are here!'' Said parents only gave the two of them amused looks.
''Hey, I only asked about his house, not his bedr-OUCH. That actually hurt!''
''You deserved it,'' she huffed, but a small smile played on her lips. ''I'll tell you all tomorrow. Unless you have time to go to the Leaky Cauldron for a bit still?''
''Not too sure about that, I came here with Mrs Weasley, Ron and Fred. We got separated pretty much immediately because of how crazy it is out there. I've been searching for a spot where I might find them and thought the stairs in front of Gringotts would be good, to have an overview and all.''
''Are you crazy?'' Hermione scolded him. ''You'd be like a sitting duck there with a target painted on your chest, don't forget that…'' she hesitated, then glanced over to her parents. Harry guessed that she hadn't told them anything about the current problems in the Wizarding world. ''Anyway, I'm sure they'll find you better in the pub. We'll just tell the barman that we're there so he can carry on the message if any of the Weasleys ask around about you, okay?''
''And you?'' he asked. ''Don't you need to go home again?''
''Yes, but it is literally a thirty-minute drive home from here. I'm lucky enough to live pretty central in London. I planned on staying at the Leaky for a bit to read ahead for tomorrow and take the underground back.''
Having no reason not to, he agreed to her plan. They said their goodbyes to Hermione's parents and made their way towards the Leaky Cauldron, having to hold onto each other's hands not to be pushed apart. ''Merlin, I hope that next year there'll be more time for shopping,'' he complained, feeling like hexing a majority of the people out of the way. At long last, they stumbled into the dark and smoky central room of the pub. Hermione went up to the bar and informed Tom that they were searching for the Weasleys, while Harry managed to obtain the last free table, which was in a far end corner. His friend returned, having had the sense to immediately get some drinks for them both, two cold bottles of butterbeer.
''This is probably the only thing I'll ever order here,'' she mused when sitting down and opening the bottles. ''I don't trust anything that isn't hermetically sealed,'' she joked. ''They don't even want to tell you what's in the soup.''
''Still better than Aunt Petunia's broth,'' he shrugged. ''Thanks. How much do I owe you?''
She waved his comment away. ''Nothing, of course. Cheers. Viktor sends his regards by the way.''
''How is he?''
Hermione got a far-away look and a smile that was very atypical. ''He's so great,'' she sighed lovingly. ''He even got time off from training for me, because he found it would have been rude not to. Honestly, as much as I dislike Quidditch, I would have been happy to spend the weeks seeing him fly. It always puts him in a good mood.'' She went on to describe the rest of her holiday, which had mostly consisted of talking to Viktor about all kinds of topics, from politics to magic. Ironically, it sounded much like everything he talked to with Voldemort. ''He just has so much insight,'' Hermione gushed. ''He has an informed opinion on… well everything I brought up, it was a breath of fresh air. Not.. not that Ron or you… I mean…'' she stammered, suddenly red. Harry only shook his head, completely understanding her on this point. He too had felt that those weren't really topics he could have debates over with his friends at school.
''Sometimes, discussions with someone older bring much more,'' he spoke. ''Especially when they've had very different experiences. I can imagine that his education at Durmstrang differed much from ours.''
''Absolutely,'' she nodded, clearly relieved that he took no offense.
''I imagine that you will have more opportunity to speak to people from higher years soon,'' Harry hinted, giving her a small grin. ''If Ron and I are right in our assumption of you becoming a Prefect?''
Hermione ducked her head, unable to hide the broad smile on her face. ''I did. Did you..?'' he quickly shook his head.
''No, Figured I got up to too much trouble. On the other hand, Malfoy was made Prefect, so I'm not sure what is all taken into account.''
''Hmm, it is mostly the Heads of Houses that appoint the Prefects, since they are supposed to know their students best. Only on rare occasions does the Headmaster step in. I'm not surprised that Snape picked Malfoy. And as much as I hate to admit it, he is good academically.''
''Still sucks at Quidditch,'' Harry snorted. ''And people skills.''
Hermione laughed openly, then suddenly quieted down and looked at him oddly. ''Harry? I thought it was the light before but… you don't look so well. Are you okay?''
He grunted and leaned back in his chair. ''Why does everyone keep saying that?'' he said, a tad more aggressive than he'd wanted to. ''I'm fine. I have had a bit of trouble sleeping lately, that is all.''
''If you say so,'' she muttered, clearly concerned. ''So, is there anything I have missed while away from England? I literally only returned a few days ago.''
''I'm not sure. Did you still receive the Prophet while away?''
Hermione's expression became thoughtful. ''Yes, I did. They really did go big on that slave trade, I certainly hope it will have positive influence in time. Also, is it true that a Death Eater confirmedYou-Know-Who's return? The Prophet was rather vague about that, though in between the lines…''
''Dumbledore thinks it is true,'' he replied carefully. ''And so do some of the Aurors who heard Rosier's confession. Personally, I'm not so sure, he could have been lying or wanting to spread chaos. He was a man with little to lose, having no family or job.''
''But if Dumbledore suspects it…'' Hermione pressed, whispering now. ''When has he ever been wrong when it came to You-Know-Who?''
''You'd be surprised,'' Harry darkly said, taking another sip.
''I don't understand.''
Harry bit his lip, wondering what to say. He looked around to make sure no-one was listening in on their conversation, then told Hermione with a low voice: ''You know that he has shown me memories and what those contained. Dumbledore and I have vastly different views on how to interpret those. It is as if Dumbledore was determined from the start to label an 11-year-old as evil, and I don't agree with that. No-one is born evil, but it is no wonder that someone who was always treated at such would also grow up twisted. So, while I'm sure that Dumbledore is good at figuring out how Voldemort thinks and acts now, he was certainly wrong on many occasions. Dumbledore is not infallible, and I will not blindly trust each and every one of his theories. Thus, until there is solid proof that He is back, I'll remain sceptical about it. I advise you to do the same.''
They sat in silence for a bit, both lost in thoughts. Harry wondered how Voldemort was doing right now and hoped that the man would not succumb to his hunger for death anytime soon. Harry knew that Voldemort could be a better man, if only he had a reason for trying. Hermione's words from before also suddenly made him realise something important. It was exactly one month ago that they had been at the Delacour residence. Voldemort had agreed to act within the month. As Harry very much doubted that the Dark Lord had planned for this operation to be completely covert, the Death eaters would act today. Perhaps at this very moment, they were busy raiding the cages.
He brought out of his thoughts by Mrs Weasley, who practically ran to their table and started scolding him for running off while he protested weakly that it hadn't been his intention. Ron informed him later that they had all received the same talk, none of them had been able to stick together. Other than Harry though, who could do the shopping on his own, he and Fred had been dependent on their mother and thus tried to find her again soon after.
Hermione declined Mrs Weasley's invitation to stay at Grimmauld Place for that last day, saying that her parents were expecting her to come home still and she wished to have a proper goodbye before leaving for Hogwarts. After a last shared round of Butterbeer between all of them - which was slightly awkward as they only had two seats and ended up all standing around the tiny table – they all hugged Hermione once more before taking the Floo back.
There was no quiet last evening to speak of. Many members of the Order for some reason or the other dropped in and wished Harry well for the coming school year, even the ones he hadn't spoken much to before. It made him feel odd, like the very first time he'd stepped into the Leaky Cauldron and everyone had wanted to shake his hand. He'd hoped that people had slowly started to get used to the idea that he wasn't some miraculous hero. When he expressed that, Fred and George were quick to remind him of that he shouldn't have won the Triwizard Tournament then. He couldn't even argue against that. To escape the many hands and stares, he fled upstairs after dinner, while the Weasleys stayed downstairs to enjoy a last family evening together.
He sat down on his bed and almost automatically took the next diary from its pile. He didn't have many left, the sleepless nights ensuring that he could read fast. It was probably the only good thing that had come out of it. He held it up towards the light, for once not having to read it under his blankets with only a Lumos illuminating the pages. He was in the middle of the 1976 diary now, at the end of the summer where Sirius had left home to go to the Potters instead, a theme that appeared to constantly be on Regulus' mind.
August 26, 1976
I don't know why I always thought that Siri was exaggerating. I envied him so much for being the first-born, always said that I would have done everything so much better had I been the Heir. Now my wish came true, I am finding out slowly why he rejected it so strongly. These past three days have been hell. Ever since Mother crossed the line of punishing me with curses for not trying hard enough with dark magic, that line appears to have been erased completely. I foolishly thought that all of Siri's scars came from how rough he always is with his friends.
August 27
Why is she doing this? And why is my father just calmly watching as Mother berates me? I'm doing all I can to follow her instructions, brew the poisons she asks me to, cast the curses she wants me to. So what if I can't perform a perfect Cruciatus curse? No spell is instantly learned!
28
I'm going insane. No matter how hard I try to please her, it's never enough. The magic she wants me to do makes me sick to my stomach. This cannot be what we are fighting for!
29
I want to get out too. I can't. My family is everything I have. Damn it Sirius, why did you leave me alone here? Why couldn't you be what you were supposed to be?
Harry looked disturbed at the pages, the writing having become more illegible, large scratches over the pages and blots staining the aged parchment that looked suspiciously like tears. Even Regulus' meticulous way of dating each entry was gone now. It was frightening to see how much the entries had changed in the course of a couple of days.
He flipped the page with dread coiling in his stomach. Then, he blinked. The following entry was as perfect as all the others he'd read.
August 30th, 1976.
He visited today, the Dark Lord himself. I knew that a change in Heirs was an important event, but for Him to visit was unexpected. I have kept track of all his activities in the past years of course, and have attended multiple speeches, but I've never been able to speak to him personally. It was a life-changing experience. We spoke nearly all evening and all of my doubts about Dark Magic are gone now, it was my parents who used it wrong. Mother got an earful about the way she tried to educate me, it is the very first time that I saw her so meek. After everything that happened in the past weeks, meeting him was truly a blessing, he saved me from my parents' madness. His Magic was indescribable, and his mere presence commands respect. As I am now the Heir to the Black family and I will be of age in only a few years, I will be invited to various events now too. It is so thrilling to be a part of the elite, to be in a position where I can be close to the most powerful wizard of this time! I hope to soon become an official part of his army, there is nothing more I wish than to fight for him.
So Regulus had finally met with Voldemort. Harry was rather surprised that it appeared that the Black family had been even too extreme in their usage of Dark Magic in Voldemort's opinion. When Sirius had said that his parents hadn't followed the Dark Lord, but thought he had the right idea, Harry had imagined them to perhaps have less fanatical ideas, not more. He could understand why Regulus was so eager to enter the Dark Lord's servitude if it meant more moderation than at home.
The meeting appeared to have been a life-changing day for Regulus. Gone were the entries about trivial happenings in Hogwarts or homework notes. He didn't even write about Sirius anymore. The diaries became a documentation of every snippet of news that Regulus heard about Voldemort. Among the lines, the teen noted down students who could or couldn't be 'trusted', the Marauders being the very first few to jot down as untrustworthy. From what Harry could gather, Regulus planned to make himself useful by giving Voldemort this information next time they spoke. Not finding anything worth of interest in the next couple of pages, Harry put the diary away again, deciding he could read more at Hogwarts. Tomorrow morning, he'd need to find a good time to sneak back into Regulus' room once more to place back the books he'd already read and take a couple more interesting ones with to school.
Harry let his head sink into the pillow and closed his eyes, feeling a headache building up. If only he could find sleep… His hand moved towards the locket on its own, thumb sliding over the emeralds on its surface. Even when knowing how dangerous the Horcrux was, it still calmed him down. Could the locket feel that he was a Horcrux too? Probably not, he doubted it would try to suck out his energy otherwise.
For the hundredth time, his mind wandered to that dangerous place of trying to reach out to it, find a way to speak to it. He knew that the object was messing with his head, yet he found himself caring less and less about that. With a massive amount of resolve that almost felt physically exhausting, Harry once again shoved that thought away. Tomorrow evening… he clung to that. Tomorrow evening, he could tell Barty or Voldemort that he'd found it. They would know what to do.
Harry evened his breath out, concentrating on nothing in particular, letting his mind drift a bit. Even if he couldn't sleep, resting was always good. Vague thoughts of Regulus crossed his head, then Sirius, Hogwarts, his friends, Quidditch, Voldemort… they stuck there, images blooming behind his eyes. He heard shouts and screams, saw a cloudy night illuminated by flashes of spells.
He was moving now too, raising a bone-white wand in the air and striking down people who ran out of a burning building. His Death Eaters had the house surrounded where today's auction took place. It had been a challenge to track it down, for the Beings he was in contact with all had been bought already. A trail had finally been found when the owner of a Centaur had expressed a desire to buy a mate for him to breed with, to experiment with creating Centaur breeds similar to racing horses. That owner had been trampled by a furious horde of the beasts today. Voldemort had smiled with glee as hooves had smashed the face into a mess of broken bones and bloodied flesh.
Séraphine Delacour appeared next to him, proudly displaying her beak and red feathers. ''Finally,'' she spoke, sounding as satisfied as he felt, her eyes shining. ''It became about time.''
''Remember not to kill all of them,'' Voldemort spoke, giving her a sideway glance. ''We need a couple survivors for information.'' She bowed her head in acknowledgement.
''I understand. We can take it over from here, I am certain that Aurors will arrive soon, your people should leave.''
He did not answer her directly, concentrating on his own magic to call to the Marks of his followers. They apparated to his side one by one. ''We will retreat for now,'' he ordered, before turning to Delacour again. ''Be careful with the Portkeys, the loss of a single one would mean a security breach. Any who cannot leave in the designated time should be left behind. Do not attempt heroic rescue actions if someone is too late, you will risk this entire operation blowing up. We may have struck one auction, there are bound to be many more people involved who did not appear here today.'' With those last words of warning, he apparated back to England, making his way to Malfoy manor to ensure that their guests arrived safely.
Soo, a lot of things are getting rolling now! And Harry will finally be at Hogwarts again.
One funny comment from my bèta that I would like to share with you all: 'The Dark Lord. Future Emperor, genius, chosen one by magic herself and slave to his pet'
Pretty much sums up him and nagini lol.
Please read and review!
xx GeMerope