So, a bit of an earlier chapter because I wanted to go back to posting on Sundays instead of Wednesdays as that's more pracitcal to me ^^
I want to thank all of you for your amazing support of this story!
Also, I got fanart from User IceyGemini on AO3! Since FFN is horrible about showing links, please remove the spaces and replace the bolded words with their respective signs: ht tps colon slash slash archiveofourown dot org slash works slash 29093898
Necromancer!Harry looks really awesome, so please give this artist some well deserved kudos :)
Enjoy!
Chapter 74: Revelations
''You're one to speak!'' Harry exclaimed, affronted. ''I've been trying to call you for months without success! And I'll have you know that I tried on very reasonable, predictable times!'' Barty only grinned wider and hugged tighter. Harry accepted the familiar grip for a while, but then couldn't help but burst into a waterfall of questions about how Barty had been, what he'd been doing, what was going on in the rest of Britain and a dozen more things he wanted to know.
''Whoa kid,'' the man laughed, pushing Harry on a chair. ''Slow down there. We have time, finally. First things first, you have to congratulate me!''
It wasn't hard to figure out on what. With Lucius showing Barty much more deference than last time Harry had seen them in the same room and Narcissa speaking of a high-ranked guest, it was clear that the Dark Lord had made good on his words about that promotion Harry had recommended as a fitting gift.
''Congrats then,'' he thus smiled. ''So, what's the title? Right hand? Second-in-command?''
''He did mention you had something to do with that… You sly little- You didn't give me a warning! How long did you know that was going to happen?''
''Oh, since Christmas,'' he replied with a smirk. ''Call it pay-back for how long you left me in the dark about impersonating Moody.''
A polite cough pulled their attention to the Malfoys, who both looked like they felt out of place in their own home. ''Would you care for some tea, Sir?'' Narcissa asked frostily. She shot Harry a disapproving look, likely about his manners.
''Sounds wonderful. Four cups will do,'' Barty spoke. This appeared to melt some of the ice, as the Malfoys both sat down themselves while their House-Elf was instructed to brew them all a pot. ''So, to stem your flood of questions somewhat, I've had a crazy few months. The Dark Lord himself is busy with- well, you likely know what exactly he is doing better than I do, but during his absence in the field, I've taken over. Relayed his instructions to all active Death Eaters, held meetings with our allies, even lead fights of the Hand of Magic. The latter of which Lucius is helping with too.''
''What is the Hand of Magic doing now? I've had no access to news for months other than the few snippets Voldemort-'' he looked up in alarm at the sound of shattering porcelain. Mrs Malfoy had dropped all four cups she'd just been floating over to the table.
''Evan…'' Barty chided.
''Sorry, habit,'' he cringed. ''Here, let me help with that.'' Harry hurriedly got to his knees and started picking the shards up from the wooden floor. ''I'm really so sorry,'' he repeated, refusing to meet Narcissa's eyes as he put the first parts of broken cups on the table.
''You don't need to do that,'' the woman finally spoke, apparently having found her voice again. ''Reparo.'' The pieces all rose up and connected seamlessly mid-air before landing gently on the table. ''Please refrain from using the Dark Lord's name in this house. You may have picked up some bad habits from your… acquaintances. We do not blame you for that, as long as you make an effort to correct it. The Dark Lord himself would not be so merciful and he visits occasionally.''
She said it with such confidence that Harry didn't have the heart to correct her at the moment, although he was sure that she was the only one currently in this room who believed that statement. The teen wondered if Lucius would speak up, but the man remained silent, only subtly raising an eyebrow at Harry. Ah, he likely didn't want to risk saying anything with Barty here, of whom it was unknown of how much knowledge he had about Harry's personal affairs. Maybe for the better. Telling both Lucius and Narcissa about the date was embarrassing enough, Harry really didn't need Barty worrying on top of that. Ironically, he would have known if they'd been able to speak per mirror before today.
''I'll try to remember,'' he thus politely said, accepting one of the offered cups as the House-Elf arrived and poured tea into the now-repaired cups. ''Barty, can you go into more detail about the Hand of Magic? I was able to follow most of the group's actions when it came to creature rights, but not much after.''
''Oh, where to start,'' the Death Eater spoke, leaning back and cooling his tea with a quick spell. ''It's become an umbrella term for various groups that act largely independently. One core group is still hunting all over the world for slavers of sentient creatures, who keep popping up regardless. As long as there's profit to make, someone will try after all. We try to go above and beyond to keep our current allies satisfied. Here in Europe, there are a couple of teams looking into cases such as yourself – mages raised by Muggles. We're trying to uncover new cases and forcing the governments to act, which is progressing slowly. They can't turn a blind eye when a couple of kids are dropped on their doorsteps every few weeks after all. We found more than I'd imagined: fourteen so far, from eleven different families. It's of course more difficult because they're from all over the continent. If we only find one in a country, the local government is not likely to take long-term actions. I imagine that will gradually change, the more cases of neglected mages we find. Children are difficult to track. We need bouts of accidental magic to happen to pick up anything at all and cannot be watching everywhere at once either,'' he explained.
Fourteen children who had been treated ill by their families was less than Harry had personally thought they would have found in several months, considering that the Hand of Magic was trying to find and check on every Muggle-born child in Europe from the age of four to eleven, plus half-bloods in the same age-range who'd been left solely with Muggle relatives. Of course, the search was far from over and if tracking these kids down took so much time and effort, it could still be a high percentage.
''So what happens to these children exactly?''
Barty shrugged. ''We find them, give first aid where necessary, punish the Muggles cause no-one else is going to do so and bring them to the nearest Ministry of Magic once they're stable enough. I'd like to provide more care, but we're merely a means to bringing injustice to light and take revenge, not to provide long-term care. Our way of trying to put them in spots with many witnesses means that it can't be covered up so easily. In the end, the citizens of a country are still the responsibility of the local Ministry.''
''Only until our Lord takes those over, of course,'' Lucius spoke with confidence.
Harry wasn't sure what to think of that statement. Of course, Voldemort's long-term plans were to rise to the top and govern their community, yet when talking to the man, Harry had always gotten the impression that was a very far-away goal. There was much work to be done before even the first dimensional bubbles could be created. A fast revolution might spark another war, and their society was incredibly divided still. Since Voldemort had taken charge of the major press outlet in Britain and France, the public opinion had shifted in certain areas, but nowhere near enough for everyone to suddenly accept the man as their leader. For a while, the current systems had to stay in place to not have all remaining stability crumble. They were only at the start of a long road. Hopefully by the time they reached the end, solutions would have been found for the direst problems already.
One step at the time, Harry reminded himself. The next of which was the upcoming Easter Ball. How would everyone who'd been invited react? What if any among them weren't firmly on Voldemort's side after all? If any information about it would leak out, that could be disastrous…
''As much as I know you love to worry about the fate of the world,'' Barty commented, getting Harry's attention again. ''None of this is currently your battle, okay? I don't want you to rush out there in an attempt to help. Evan, seriously. I don't mind telling you what's going on, but your task is ensuring you learn as much magic as you possible can at school so that by the time you graduate Hogwarts, you can go into any field of study you want. Live a little.''
Harry couldn't help it, he laughed in disbelief at Barty's words. ''Live a little? You know we're currently facing censorship, attempts at brainwashing and torture at Hogwarts, yeah? Do you really think I can enjoy my carefree time at school? I'm trying to keep my friends from getting hurt while fighting Umbridge's oppression in the only way I know how to. Don't worry about me breaking out to join the bigger fight, I have enough on my hands as is. And you might remember that one of those hands isn't actually mine anymore due to her,'' he spoke while waving his right arm in front of Barty's face.
''You're right, of course,'' Barty muttered. ''As I never personally interacted with her, it's hard to fully get just how hard she is making your life.''
''I truly wish that this year I would have been put in another Triwizard Tournament if it could have made me avoid the Ministry's new attempts to invade Hogwarts,'' he bitterly stated. ''Their ignorance and incompetence are everywhere. Fudge fears Dumbledore so much that he wishes to disarm my entire generation as we're supposedly under his 'influence'. The Dark Lord's fight for freedom of magic is just as much relevant within the castle's walls as it is beyond our borders. We cannot much rely on our other teachers either. She has the power to fire each and every one of them and will do so when they step out of line too much. Even Dumbledore himself has to be careful to avoid getting kicked out by now.''
''Is Dolores Umbridge not being investigated at the moment?'' Lucius threw in. ''The Board of Governors will surely be involved if she attempts to dismiss anyone right now, and if your claims are true, evidence should be found.''
Harry could not believe his ears right now. Was no-one actually listening? ''The Ministry installed Umbridge. The Ministry is running this 'investigation' of Umbridge. I overheard a between one of the Aurors and our dear High Inquisitor, the summary of which was basically 'we won't bother searching deeper because we believed from the start that all of these kids are lying'. She's in the clear already and moving her plans along. The only reason why the Aurors didn't officially announce that they declare her innocent is because they had orders to stay till the end of term and are now spying on her behalf.''
From the three astonished looks he received, this truly was news to all of them. Merlin, this was why he didn't like relying on most adults to solve his problems. Barty could scoff all he wanted about Harry being dense and not picking up on obvious hints, the Death Eater was pretty oblivious too when it came to situations that didn't directly concern him. ''Fudge basically started a feud between himself and Dumbledore and will not lift a finger when it comes to Umbridge's actions. This position of High Inquisitor is his opportunity at redirecting life at Hogwarts, from what we learn to when we learn it and with whom. He's not going to make himself look bad by admitting that he appointed a sadist who uses illegal methods of punishment on students! I mean, washing his hands off Umbridge and replacing her with a sane person might be better in the long run, but when has Fudge ever thought about that? He wants Dumbledore out fast, not give the man more credibility.''
''Just a thought,'' Narcissa spoke up. ''Fudge is a strong opponent of Dumbledore and Umbridge follows his lead. Could she not be a possible ally?''
To Harry's surprise, it was Barty who growled and said: ''Never.'' He clarified: ''Her political views may align with ours in some aspects, but this is the same woman who wanted to ear-mark merfolk like cattle and had a large hand in the recent discriminatory laws against werewolves. Working with her in any capacity would offend many of our other allies. Besides, she despises Evan, isn't that right?''
A bit sheepishly, Harry agreed. ''Maybe more than Dumbledore. I did publicly punch her in the face when she insulted a friend of mine. Still one of my better moments.''
''The award ceremony of the Triwizard Tournament, correct?'' the woman asked pensively. ''Quite the piece of gossip, that was. You should learn to solve your arguments less… violently.''
Harry felt the temperature dropping as he icily answered: ''She said that Fleur was a pet rather than a human, a misbehaving one that should learn her place as a half-breed.'' He'd never forget those words. One day, he would get a punch with his new arm in for that too. ''Even after coming up on top and winning a tournament that was promised to bring eternal glory and admiration, she could not look past the fact that one of Fleur's grandparents was a different magical being rather than a human. It was all she saw and all she hated. I will not give someone like that a voice by honouring her with a discussion. Violence is all she deserves after everything she has put others through.''
His sudden fury at Umbridge abated slightly when he received admiring looks instead of the shock that would surely have coloured the faces of many of his other friends at the aggressive outburst. For a moment, he'd forgotten that he was surrounded by lethal people who'd likely all put their skills to use at some point. He knew for certain that Barty had killed before and also wouldn't put it past either Malfoy to have done so.
A tad pompous, Lucius boasted: ''In that case, I'll ensure the Board will make her life more difficult, although I cannot promise which side I'll take when there is a choice to be made between Umbridge and Dumbledore.''
Harry shrugged, energy deflating. ''Understandable. It'll depend on what the issue is about, I suppose. While she is horrible for our school, it might be a good thing if she actually manages to push Dumbledore out shortly before her own inevitable removal. I'm kind of waiting for it while at the same time hoping that it'll take her the better part of third term to do so. Enough about Umbridge now, I can get enough news about Hogwarts while actually at school. I'd like to hear more still about everything that's been going on outside.''
Barty complied, clearly glad to finally able to talk face to face again. They ordered one more round of tea, and then another. Both times it went cold in their cups, untouched as they were engaged in such enthusiastic talks. The Death Eater elaborated on the ritual that had made him become the Dark Lord's right hand; spoke about everyday life such as how the garden was thriving and how Nagini was becoming a menace, insisting on chasing her rabbits outside now as she was bored cooped up inside; and even dropped a few stories of missions he'd gone on that had taken him from deep mountain valleys to scorching deserts.
''-and then, when I cracked open the treasure cache I'd at long last secured from that foul tomb,'' Barty spoke animatedly, ''just to ensure of course that nothing cursed was in it - because Merlin forbid that I bring the Dark Lord a cursed object instead of the scrolls he'd been searching - I noticed that the ribbon that bound the scrolls together had a very familiar family crest with the motto 'Toujours Pur'! On scrolls dug up in Turkey! Black was shocked when I showed him and insisted we burn the things, which of course I couldn't do-''
''Hold on, you contacted Sirius?'' Harry asked in bewilderment. Hadn't he told Barty that reaching Sirius would be incredibly difficult due to all of the restrictions his godfather was under? When did they have the opportunity to meet up?
Barty's enthusiastic expression turned into a strangely guilty look. ''Oh errrr. Yeah. Few times,'' he confessed, scratching his head. ''He's a decent fellow. Got lots in common. We both like to drink in bars for one.''
Narcissa cleared her throat and set down her own cup. Both she and her husband had been mostly listening in silence to the conversation before. ''Mr Crouch, surely you do not mean my cousin, Sirius Orion Black?'' she asked for clarification in a slightly uncertain voice. ''Member of the Order of the Phoenix and staunch supporter of Albus Dumbledore?''
''Not at all,'' Barty replied with an amused smile. ''I was talking about Sirius Orion Black, fierce protector of his godson Harry James Potter, whom Albus Dumbledore wishes to murder at some point in the possibly near future. That was a very good motivator for him to listen to our side of the story. Well, the circumstances amongst which he found that out were rather unique and not very important, but rest assured that Black is a hundred percent ours now.'' Harry found that to be one hell of a summary of the crises that had led to his godfather's change of heart. It raised more questions than it answered too, for while Sirius was technically not working against Voldemort, the man wasn't happy about it, nor had he shown much eagerness to interact more with anyone on the dark side. Although… there had been that moment during their belated Yule celebration where Barty had ran after Sirius into the garden, as well as the few times during mirror talks where the Death Eater had suddenly mentioned the other.
''Speaking of Black,'' Barty continued, addressing the Malfoys before Harry could say something. ''I heard that he was here last Easter but was banned and thus not invited this year. I will need to you to revert that decision and send him an invitation.''
Lucius, who had shown a remarkable sense of self-control before, now reddened and rather aggressively spoke: ''Absolutely not! Last time that man was here, I could taste nothing but ash for hours. On our side or not, anyone who behaves like a bored toddler shall not step a foot over my-'' he halted as Barty very slowly drew his wand and threateningly pointed it straight at Lucius.
''You will send him an invitation. Today still.'' The tone left no room for discussion.
Of course, Lucius still tried. ''If you want him here so badly, you have a spare invitation card,'' the blond sneered. A dangerous growl came out of Barty's throat that didn't predict much good. Harry had heard it often enough to know that the man was about to fly off the handle. Before any harm would come to either, he jumped up and walked into the firing line.
''Evan. Get out of the way.''
Sighing, Harry crossed his arms, not moving an inch. ''Barty,'' he gently spoke. ''Maybe explaining why you want Sirius here would be more productive than simply ordering them to accept an unwanted guests into their house.''
Ignoring him, Barty stood and walked around Harry, wand still trained on Lucius. ''I should not need to explain myself to you, Malfoy,'' he whispered. ''Your comment was unnecessary too, I am not remotely romantically interested in Black. Keep your thoughts to yourself and do as I tell you, understood?''
Uncomfortable with the tension in the room, Harry turned around slightly, ready to spring into action if his friend would actually try to fire at his new guardians.
''I shall prepare an invitation right away, Sir,'' Lucius muttered with no small amount of antipathy. Despite the command being followed, Barty's wand was only lowered when the other actually had physically left the room. Barty returned to his armchair as if nothing was wrong, which ticked the teen off quite a bit.
''Great, do we have two tyrants running around now?'' he heatedly asked.
''Evan…''
''No! It's bad enough that Vol- the Dark Lord gives unwilling followers commands without ever feeling the need to explain himself. I get that you look up to him, but copying his more questionable behaviour isn't going to help anyone!''
''Narcissa, leave us,'' the man sighed.
The woman swallowed and stood, but to Harry's utter surprise, she did not follow her husband. With only the slightest tremble in her voice, she spoke: ''We were ordered by the Dark lord personally to take the best care of our new charge as possible. Please do not take this as insubordination, Sir Crouch, but the words of our Lord still weight heavier than yours. I cannot in good conscience leave Harry behind while he is defenceless and you are in possession of a wand.''
''Nothing and no-one apart from the Dark Lord can hurt this boy, Narcissa,'' Barty answered in all seriousness. ''He is entirely safe.''
''I cannot guarantee that without being present,'' she insisted, turning a determined gaze to Harry, beckoning him closer.
As torn as he was, Harry didn't agree to his friends' behaviour right now. With a heavy heart, he thus joined Narcissa and turned his gaze on the bewildered, slightly hurt Barty. ''I meant what I just said,'' he grimly explained. ''I recommended he give you more responsibility and esteem as I thought you didn't nearly get enough credit. If you're just going to imitate his style of ruling though, maybe I made a mistake. You know just as well as I do that loyalty should not mean blind acceptance of orders. It's taken me long, painstaking conversations to drive that point home to the Dark Lord. Please don't you start now too.''
With a frustrated snarl, Barty put his wand away and started pacing, throwing a couple of unpleasant looks at Narcissa. Clearly, he wished for this conversation to be private. While Harry could somehow understand as talking completely openly about this criticism could lower Barty's status further in the woman's eyes, Harry thought it to be an important step. Opening up in front of followers would at least show some level of humanity. Being in command didn't mean being superior. Merlin, his friend had seen so often how impossibly frustrating dealing with Voldemort could be. Had power gone to his head so fast?
''It is not your place to judge me either. As a follower of the Dark Lord, you are obligated to listen to my orders just like anyone else,'' the man tried. Harry only challengingly raised his eyebrows. Really, this was Barty's plan?
Maybe it was time to knock his friend off this pedestal a bit. ''That doesn't really fly when I haven't been the Dark Lord's follower for months.''
His words had the desired effect. The angry look in the man's brown eyes was replaced by utter shock. ''I… what?'' he choked, ''You…'' A second after the apparent victory, Harry got the bad feeling that his word had been falsely interpreted, judging by the expression that twisted into fury. He knew for certain when a wand was jabbed into his throat and he was pushed back into the chair he'd been sitting on before. Thankfully for Barty, the Malfoy's chairs were impossibly soft. If that shove would have hurt, there would have been wild magic swirling around. ''What are you talking about? You turned back to Dumbledore and his cronies? Why, Evan? What did they promise you?'' Barty all but shouted.
A sizzling gold spell crossed the room, the origin of it being the tip of Narcissa's wand. Barty yelped and turned back, pointing his own weapon-
''Merlin, that's not what I meant!'' Harry shouted in panic to not further escalate the situation. ''Please stop, both of you! The Dark Lord and I came to an agreement during the Christmas holidays. I told you in January that I'm allowed to say his name now, right? I wasn't bluffing. We're friends.''
That was effective enough to halt both in their tracks. The reaction of Barty wasn't entirely as Harry had expected though, as the man turned silent and contemplative, stroking the stubble on his chin. ''Friends. Right… I s'pose that's a good step, considering…''
''Considering what?''
''Never mind that,'' Barty grimaced, inhaling deeply. With frightening speed, all traces of anger were gone, a relaxed smile in its place. ''If that is the Dark Lord's wish, I shall abide by it. So fine, I cannot order you to do anything. You, however, also cannot tell me how I deal with my subordinates. I take my role more seriously than you can possibly imagine. Which is also a reason why Black must partake in the Ostara celebration.''
''I don't quite follow.''
Barty sighed and let himself fall down in the armchair again. ''We all know how much trouble you can get in in under three minutes. Having your godfather be there to watch out for you means that I can actually spend time ensuring everything else runs smoothly.'' Harry was about to protest, until he recalled that during last Ostara, he and Draco had somehow managed to almost get into a duel until being interrupted by Voldemort.
''Me potentially running into trouble doesn't mean you have to invite Sirius though. While I would absolutely love for my godfather to be there, I'm not sure how well his presence would go over to the other guests. Besides, I have two new guardians, that should really be enough, don't you think? I'm not ten, Barty. I don't need constant supervision.'' The idea of being watched all the time made him shudder. More than that, surely Sirius would explode when finding out that Harry was to escort Voldemort as his plus one. The Dark Lord was not someone Harry wished to be 'protected' from on their first official date. The thought made his stomach do a few strange flips.
''You're not ten no, but fifteen is only a few years older. No matter, it's too late now for protests, the owl should be on its way,'' Barty spoke with satisfaction. He threw one more look at Narcissa, who stood frozen as a statue , only her sharp eyes flicking between the two of them. A muscle twitched in the Death Eater's jaw. ''Evan, please understand that my only intention is to protect everyone as well as I can. I cannot do so if every one of my decisions is questioned. A single moment of hesitation in following orders on the battlefield can result in death. I need our people to trust me first and question me later. You should not be unfamiliar with this concept yourself. What would you do if Umbridge discovered your group's little hide-out and you ordered everyone to run and hide? What would you do if they disagreed and started arguing instead about wanting to stay and fight, or some would even wish to negotiate with her? In the end, every plan would fail.''
''I'd improvise,'' Harry shrugged. ''The members of my Defence groups are mostly friends; I don't expect them to follow my word to the letter.'' As soon as he said it though, memories popped into his mind. Telling off Astoria, introducing Pansy, teaching the Creevey brothers who looked up with admiration on their faces… And even with his closest friends, there'd been several times where he'd asked exactly what Barty had just described. Trust beyond logical reasoning. ''Okay, say that I do see your point,'' he conceded. ''This is no battlefield. There was plenty of time for an explanation.''
''If someone does not follow my orders when there is no pressure involved, they also surely won't when there is. People panic easily and turn back to their most basic instincts. Do you think that Lucius would have protested against that same order if it had come from the Dark Lord?''
''No, but that's my exact point. Why would you want to be like him in this regard? I find it to be a major flaw of his that he doesn't allow even the slightest amount of criticism or questioning. Sure, his judgement is often on point, but he's fallible too.''
''You must not say such a thing,'' Narcissa whispered. When looking up, Harry saw a great deal of fear in her eyes.
Taking a deep breath, Harry walked up to the woman and looked her straight in the eyes. ''Yes, I must,'' he decisively statement. ''Barty knows that I must. So does the Dark Lord himself.'' He looked over to the second in command, who was now positively sulking. ''Right?''
''Infuriatingly,'' the man stated, ''Evan here has always somehow managed to get away with the liberties he has taken. Our Lord tolerates his attitude. You need not fear that the words of your new charge will put doom over your family's heads, Narcissa.'' The woman relaxed minimally, only to tense up again as the door behind her opened. It was only her husband who stepped through however, who gave everyone in the room a critical one-over without commenting. It must look odd that they were all on their feet.
''I sent out my fastest owl and expect to receive a timely reply. Will you be joining us for lunch later, Sir?'' he stiffly asked.
Harry wasn't sure whether to be relieved or disappointed as Barty shook his head. Catching up had been nice, but the man was tiptoeing the borders of Harry's patience. It would be a good idea to cool down before meeting again. There'd hopefully be plentiful opportunities to do so. The Easter holidays lasted two full weeks after all. ''I'll be taking my leave shortly. It was… it was good to see you kid. I'm sure the last words haven't been spoken about this, but it'll be good for you to settle in here before addressing it again.''
''Will try my best not to trample on anyone's else's pride in the remaining week,'' he answered. ''Oh, there is one more thing that I'd like to tell you before the Ball though. One of the few friends I made in Slytherin is graduating this year. His name is Pucey, Adrian Pucey.''
Barty frowned. ''Pucey… I know his parents. Not sure what to think of them exactly, they kept to themselves. Never joined a side.''
''Yes well, that is the problem,'' Harry nodded. ''Adrian wishes to be more pro-active than his parents are and learn more about dark magic after Hogwarts. He wishes to find a teacher or mentor, but doesn't really have the necessary connections, other than children of Death Eaters like Draco. He came to me as he knows I have some… higher contacts in these circles. As I know you're a great teacher, I've been meaning to ask you if you could have a talk with him. Not necessarily to teach him yourself, I suppose your new role keeps you very busy, but to point him into the right direction.''
Barty hummed, not sounding too happy. ''It depends. Is he willing to swear fealty to the Dark Lord? Or does he not yet know of our Lord's return?''
Harry shrugged. ''He's one of the few whom Draco confided in and I haven't denied his questions and statements about the Dark Lord being back. So yes, he knows. I already told him that he probably cannot expect help if he doesn't firmly put his loyalty in place. He appeared to be… open to the idea of becoming a Death Eater.'' The Gryffindor neglected to mention that he'd in the same breath recommended against doing so if Adrian had other options. ''Draco mentioned that Adrian had been invited to the Easter Ball too,'' he spoke, although it was a half-question directed at the Malfoys.
''That is correct,'' Lucius confirmed. ''Draco vouched for a few of the Slytherins in higher years that weren't yet on the standard invitation list due to their parents not being invited. The Dark Lord approved of the presence of a few of them, including Pucey,'' he added, shooting a glance at Barty. Harry wondered if Voldemort might have recognised some of the names from their talks about the Defence group. Would the Greengrasses be there too? Or Saeth?
''I'll see if I have time that evening,'' Barty said. ''No promises, but at the very least I'll send someone over to talk to Pucey if it means so much to you. New recruits are always good in either case. Well, I'll be going now then. Evan, try not to blow anything up.''
The wide grin almost made Harry forget the fact that Barty had just threatened him at wand-point. Almost. ''Such confidence in me. Give Nagini a hug, okay?'' he teased, knowing how much Barty tried to avoid the huge snake.
As Barty left the room, proclaiming he knew the way without being escorted out, everyone let out a collectively held breath, even Harry. That could have gone better. It really should have gone better. He'd looked forward to speaking to Barty so much and yet, he was now left with a great deal of worry and self-doubt. Had it really been the right call to suggest a promotion? Why couldn't he have recommended that Voldemort get Barty a book instead or something innocuous like that?
''Well then,'' Narcissa spoke up, nervously tucking a few strands of hair behind her ears. ''You are on first-name base with the right hand of the Dark Lord and claim to be friends with our Lord himself. Any other news you wish to share that Lucius and I should have known about yesterday?'' The way she asked was airy, though Harry could hear an edge of agitation. This was clearly not how Narcissa had pictured their first meeting to go. He threw a desperate look at Lucius, not sure how the poor woman would deal right now with having the same information thrown on her that Lucius had just processed during breakfast.
''Darling…'' the man hesitated. ''You might wish to sit down again.''
Of all the reactions he'd imagined, 'excitement' had not been on the list. It turned out that Narcissa was a very pragmatic woman, who instantly recognised all the benefits that would befall her family by having one of her 'children' on the arm of the most powerful man in the country. Disturbingly, the only complaints Harry had heard since admitting to the mutual interest between him and Voldemort was that it hadn't been Draco who'd caught the Dark Lord's eye instead, and that she should have known sooner, as now she'd need to tread on a few feet when having to admit to families she'd been in contact with about possible engagements that Harry was off the market, so to speak.
So now here he was in Diagon Alley, about to head into Twilfitt and Tatting's with Narcissa as she was appalled that Harry only owned a single set of dress robes, which he'd already worn to multiple parties. ''Being spotted on your first official date with something you wore to the Yule ball in fourth year is completely inacceptable!'' she'd cried out in horror. He'd never liked shopping for clothes and hoped they would be out of there fast, though he dreaded that they wouldn't be.
The shop was quaint and smelled of perfume, very different from Madam Malkin's, the only magical clothing shop he'd set foot in before. Harry didn't dare look at the price tags. Although he surely could afford any sum written on them, it felt a bit pointless to pour a great deal of money on fabric purely because of the brand name. In Muggle shops, he could understand price differences better, but here everything had been made using magic or House-elf labour, neither of which cost much money or time. He was surprised by how small it was, only a single room with a few items on display. To the side were two closed doors, which he imagined to be changing rooms or personal property.
''Mrs Malfoy! A great pleasure to see you again!'' the young man behind the counter spoke with an overly joyous smile. ''I followed the latest news with abated breath. This is your new ward, then? Harry Potter?'' The way he breathed Harry's name reminded very much of the first time he'd arrived in the Leaky Cauldron and a swarm of people had tried to shake his hand.
''Indeed, Mr Mantodea,'' Narcissa spoke with a hint of impatience. ''His previous guardians gave no care for appearance, which absolutely has to be rectified. He owns all necessary items of clothing for school of course, but the rest of his wardrobe seemed to be… lacking. My husband and I already ordered many standard items of clothing for him from your store previously, but it has come to my attention that Harry needs some new dress robes.''
''I see. The men's section is the first door to the right, Mr Potter, with dress robes flanking the left wall. Or would you care for a custom-made piece?''
''I… I'll have a look what's in stock first,'' he hastily spoke. He assured Narcissa that no assistance was needed for now and went through the mentioned door, which he'd mistaken for a changing room before. The sight floored him: a gigantic space that could rival the Chamber of Secrets was laden with fabric in all shapes, sizes and colours. Maybe assistance wouldn't have been bad after all. But no, he really didn't want anyone fussing over him constantly and telling him what to pick. He just wanted something standard and blue, those were all the requirements the robe had to meet.
As he stared at racks filled with clothing, he got the feeling that 'standard' was the only thing they didn't hold in stock. Cloaks of glittering silver billowed without wind, shawls made with actual leaves rustled as he walked past, and one robe even hummed a familiar tune he couldn't quite place. ''Is a normal, blue robe too much to ask for,'' he muttered grumpily after pulling out a robe that had seemed blue when spotting it, but which instantly shifted to all other colours of the rainbow as soon as it was touched. ''Merlin.'' Fred and George would have a blast in here.
He went deeper into the room, leaving the dress robes be for now. Although the cut and patterns of the fancy robes all around were nowhere near what he was used to, the colours became less extravagant, and they didn't seem to be enchanted with wacky spells. At long last, a particular robe caught his eye, dark blue with patterns that reminded of waves if one squinted hard enough. It had unusual, tight sleeves for a robe and no hood, which could be attributed to having been in the 'sports' section if the Quidditch helmets that hung next to it were any indication. He tried it on in the designated area in the back and found it fit perfectly. Harry didn't really care whether it was supposed to be a dress robe or not. The back flowed nicely, the material was comfortable, and it didn't scream 'look at me' the instant he'd set foot in a room. More importantly, there were no ruffles, glitter, feathers or music. Even more importantly, it was a nice shade of blue that he was sure would catch Voldemort's eye.
His enthusiasm wasn't shared when he went to show it off. Narcissa threw him a dubious look. ''Those are duelling robes,'' she stated as if that should have been obvious. ''Did you get lost?''
The teen shook his head and got the strong feeling of needing to defend his choice. ''No, but the dress robes weren't really my… style,'' he admitted, trying not to be rude. ''I like this one a lot.''
''It is still not a dress robe,'' she persisted.
''Milady, If the gentleman insists…'' Mr Mantodea spoke up, coming from behind the counter with a measuring tape. ''We could perhaps make a few adjustments to this robe to get it up to standard? Add a cloak or an outer robe… perhaps a sash? The sleeves are still an issue, of course. I could widen them.''
Narcissa ignored the clerk's ranting and folded her arms, staring at Harry with a slight frown. ''You will stand out more in this than if you'd wear a fuchsia dress with ruffles, you realise.''
Harry shrugged helplessly. ''Maybe? But it doesn't feel like it now.''
''Why blue of all colours?'' she asked. ''It neither matches the tone of your eyes, skin or hair.''
''Helikesblue,'' Harry muttered, feeling smaller by the minute.
She released a small sigh and stepped closer, but demands to change didn't follow. Narcissa gently placed a hand on his shoulder. ''The pattern is nice,'' she admitted. ''And it does suit you. Could I at least convince you to buy a cloak that goes with it? Perhaps purple? Or silver?''
He shrugged, not caring much either way. Narcissa steered him back towards the large room and they looked at cloaks together until finding a grey one of crushed velvet that shimmered silver in the right lighting. It was just plain enough for Harry to be comfortable wearing it and just catching enough for Narcissa to give her stamp of approval. Mr Mantodea still muttered about sleeves after they'd made their purchase. Harry was happy that his guardian didn't insist on acquiring several more sets of dress robes, as he was glad to be outside despite the stares he had to deal with.
''What about your hair?'' she asked as they passed what appeared to be a salon.
He actually let out a short laugh at that. ''That's useless. Nothing I've ever tried in my life has been able to tame my hair. Aunt Petunia once got so fed up with it that she shaved it all off. By morning, it had grown back in the exact same state. Hermione once gave me a potion that tamed her curls for the Yule ball, but that had no effect either. It's just the way it is. Can't seem to grow it out, can't seem to cut it shorter, so I've decided to just live with this mess. I wouldn't wish to frustrate some poor employees at the hair salon.''
''If you're sure,'' she merely commented while giving his hair a sad look.
''Mrs Malfoy, would it be alright to stop by Gringotts?'' he asked. ''I don't have the money with me to pay you back for the robes and wanted to withdraw a sum anyways.''
She stopped in the middle of the street and stared at him. ''Dear, you do not really think that you need to pay for your own clothing, do you?'' she asked, almost affronted. ''When Lucius and I became your guardians, we of course signed up for providing you with a home, food, clothing and any other necessities that a child such as yourself might wish for. Your parents were thoughtful to provide you with a trust vault, yet it's not necessary for you to use it anymore until you turn seventeen.''
A bit overwhelmed by the generosity, he stuttered out a thanks, before gathering courage and continuing: ''I still would like to go to the bank. I wish to donate money and cannot possibly ask you to count that as a necessity you need to cover. While in the Ministry, I saw that the fountain in the Atrium in which donations are gathered for St. Mungo's was glaringly empty. A good friend of mine invested a lot in the hospitals and I don't want to see his efforts go to waste. I vowed to make a donation myself,'' he explained. The woman merely nodded in acknowledgement and started weaving her way through the crowd until they were standing in front of Gringotts.
The Goblins were as unfriendly as ever, making them wait impossibly long before one beckoned them closer. It didn't look like he had done anything in particular in the past ten minutes apart from inspecting a single coin, but Harry didn't complain, always feeling nervous when standing in front of the creatures with their sharp-toothed smiles. Without being prompted, Harry put his vault key on the counter. The goblin grunted in acknowledgement and turned it over in the light. ''A valid key. What is your business today, Mr Potter?''
''I'd like to visit my vault and make a withdrawal,'' he stated. Another grunt and a wave of hand, at which another goblin approached. Harry couldn't really tell whether he'd seen this one before, until the goblin spoke. From the deep corners of Harry's brain, he recognised the voice as belonging to the Goblin who'd brought him to his vault during his very first visit. ''Mr Griphook,'' he exclaimed in surprise. Black eyes were narrowed at him.
''Yes?''
''Oh.. errr. Nothing, it's just that you also accompanied me to my vault a few years ago. The very first time I was at Gringotts in fact. I just remembered now,'' he tried to awkwardly explain. The Goblin mustered him for a moment before turning around. ''Correct. Follow me,'' he spoke.
Not wanting to rile Griphook up for any reason, Harry kept his mouth shut during most of the trip. It was never incredibly wise to open one's mouth anyways during the rollercoaster ride that led deep into the bowels of Gringotts. Narcissa was certainly better company than Hagrid when it came to the carts, she didn't show any indication of needing to puke her guts out. When they finally stood outside again and blinked into the sunlight after their trip into the dark caverns, Harry inquired about making their way to the Ministry to deposit the money he wished to, which Narcissa denied.
''The Minister made a great exception for you to visit us outside of regular holidays. This weekend is reserved purely for you to acclimatise to the manor and take care of necessary business such as buying you some new clothes or taking care of your finances. We cannot waltz into the Ministry without having good reasons to be there anymore than I can take you to Knockturn Alley. You can keep the gold in your room for now and make a trip to the Ministry during the holidays. I'll ensure that Lucius prepares a safe.''
Her explanation made sense, and one week wasn't an incredible long time, so Harry didn't raise a fuss over it. They stayed in Diagon for about an hour still, perusing Flourish and Blotts, stopping by the apothecary for some potion ingredients Narcissa needed and even making a stop at Fortescue's.
Harry's throat constricted a bit as he sat down on one of the benches in the inside seating area. Florian Fortescue was just as nice and helpful as always, even remembering Harry's favourite flavour: strawberry and peanut butter. It was odd to sit here with a woman so prim as Narcissa. On a superficial level, she reminded him of his Aunt, only his Aunt had attempted to deny Harry even a simple ice lolly at the zoo and would never have splurged on a massive sundae.
It was a sensation that would last the rest of that day and the one after. Everything the Malfoys did, he would subconsciously compare to the Dursleys. Lucius barked at the House-elf to get the paper in a similar manner that Vernon had done to Harry. Narcissa was just as meticulous about the house being spotless, and many a wall adorned pictures of Draco's achievements in life in much the same way as the Dursleys had tried to capture every moment of Dudley's life. The difference was that in this house, Harry was not expected to withdraw to his room, not treated like an outsider. Lucius tried to engage in conversation about Quidditch of all things and handed the newspaper to Harry after having read it, while Narcissa became ever bolder with firing questions at him about every spell he'd learned under Barty's and Voldemort's tutelage.
Malfoy Manor was far more like Privet Drive number four than the boisterous Burrow than he could have imagined from a magical home. Still, the Malfoys clearly made a great effort to make Harry feel welcome. Like he was one of their own instead of the odd one out. It would take longer to get used to than the halls of Hogwarts, he was sure of that, especially as there wouldn't be much time he'd spend here in his remaining school years. But hope blossomed in his heart that one day, this might feel like a place he could return to.
Only a few hours remained until he'd return for the last week at Hogwarts before the Easter holidays would start, and Harry was deciding which of his things he'd already leave here and what essentials he needed still apart from schoolbooks. To not have to sort out anything in particular within the span of a few days, he'd simply taken his entire trunk with him to the Malfoys. Now, Harry was considering leaving it here so it would ease his upcoming trips from and to Hogwarts with the Hogwarts express. The privilege of using Floo powder had only been granted as they didn't want to send a train out for a single person. Not to mention that it would have taken up a great chunk of the weekend if he'd had to rely on that for transportation.
A single knocked sounded on his bedroom door. ''Yeah?'' Harry asked, and in stepped Lucius, who took the desk chair that Harry had sat on the day prior to finish some of his homework. It had been nice, working in a peaceful environment, though not being able to ask his friends' opinion on question he was stuck on was an annoying side effect. At least Draco would be here usually.
''I retrieved what you asked for,'' the man spoke, placing a stack of papers on the desk. Harry perked up and threw the bundle of socks that held his Sneakoscope back in the trunk again. ''They're not complete, as I told you before, but I do keep the more interesting ones for a while.''
''To preserve history?'' Harry guessed and received a tight smile in return.
''That, and also to prove points when someone is getting their facts wrong,'' Lucius spoke. ''It is astonishing how many details people forget. Stories are embellished so often, it's tiring. While the Prophet wasn't always the most reliable source of information, it is a good way to keep track of what happened when. I hope you find what you are looking for.''
''Oh, I'm sure,'' he happily spoke, leafing through the stack. ''I'm looking for anything new, to be honest. Every one of these is banned at Hogwarts, so I'll try to remember as much as I can to then relay it to my friends. Oh, here it is!'' he pulled a particular Prophet out that had a picture of Umbridge on the front cover with the title 'Our new education system: back to archaic methods?' Although Umbridge had recovered from the blow to her person fast, it would still make for a satisfying read, he was sure.
''I also wished to let you know that you have been keyed to the wards as of ten minutes ago. Narcissa finished tweaking the enchantments.''
Harry instantly let go of the paper to pull his wand instead, sighing in relief as he cast a Lumos, simply to hold onto the feel of magic that had so suddenly been taken away. ''Perfect,'' he spoke, then turned to the man. ''Thank you. For everything. Even with the Dark Lord insisting that you must become my guardians, I wasn't sure what to expect. This weekend has shown me that it'll be… a good experience,'' he spoke with sincerity.
''What those Muggles did to you was awful,'' Lucius solemnly replied, at which the teen stiffened. ''To think it went unnoticed for so long… if you need anything, ask me or my wife. I cannot yet say that I completely understand you, but we will make this work. As family. Speaking of which… now you belong to the Malfoys, you will of course have a role to play in organising some of the events hosted here. Most preparations for Easter have already been made, but it would be appreciated if you could help Draco and Cissy with decorating the day prior.''
''Of course,'' he agreed, wondering what kind of decorating was done by the hosts. He'd somehow expected all of that to be left to the house-elf as well. It was a spot of positivity that this didn't appear to be the case. ''I could also help with cooking,'' he offered, knowing that his strengths lay more with food than fashion.
Lucius shook his head. ''That won't be needed, the food is well-taken care of. Say, how much do you know of seasonal offerings?''
Harry recalled that he'd read about it in one of the many books he'd either borrowed from Voldemort or found in Regulus' bedroom. ''A bit, not too confident in having extensive background knowledge on the topic,'' he doubtfully admitted. ''Sure I had a book about it before, though I've returned it by now. 'A Druid's tale', it was called, I believe?'' It had been a diary-like book of a witch who tried to live by a strict religious codex of living in harmony with magic and nature. Her life had revolved around honouring magic throughout the seasons. There'd been plenty of descriptions of what offerings she'd brought on each celebration. With eight feasts though, only two of which Harry had personally celebrated with traditional rituals, he couldn't be certain that he would remember everything in the right order.
''Ah, a fine work. There's a copy in our library if you wish to reread it again. You may have seen the altar that was set up last year. With the Dark Lord present, everything has to be absolutely perfect, down to the last detail. I would greatly appreciate it if you could take care of that aspect of the ball.''
Harry wasn't sure whether to be nervous or flattered that such an important task was put upon his shoulders. Or was this a way to avoid blame if the altar wouldn't be set up right? No, they both knew that Voldemort would seek the blame with the Malfoys themselves as hosts, regardless of whom they asked to perform the task for them. At least, Harry thought that was obvious. Maybe Lucius didn't. Not that it mattered, Harry felt excited at the opportunity to contribute something he actually liked doing some research on. ''I'll do my utmost best,'' he thus promised. There was still a whole week left, maybe Hermione would be able to point him in the direction of some books in the Hogwarts library too, and he'd have the whole Saturday to reread 'a druid's tale' if he so wished.
The cold was the first thing Harry noticed. The darkness the second. He felt around blindly, hands feeling stone, but seeing none until above him, dim green light of sparse torches flickered to life. A threatening corridor stretched out in front of him, impossibly long. Disoriented, he grasped onto the wall to push himself up, vision tilting strangely. Harry tried to call out, but no sounds left his throat. The darkness beyond loomed. With a feel of utter dread, he tore his eyes away from the black spot where the torches stopped, to instead look at what was behind him.
He'd been here before. Recently, even, Harry recalled as he took in the other side in confusion. A bit further down to his left was a grand oak door, to the right an elevator. He was on the ninth level of the Ministry of Magic, where only last week, the hearing he'd been a witness to had taken place. It was abandoned now, large shadows reaching out from every corner, creeping over the walls. He turned back, braced for the worst. How had he arrived here? What was going on?
One torch flickered brighter and at the far end, something gleamed. Gathering all the courage he could muster, Harry went to investigate, each step bringing an impending feel of doom. He reached out to the object. Fingers closed around a doorknob.
''Such interesting locations you bring us to,''
Harry let go of the knob as if it were piping hot, whirling around to face the Dark Lord. The hooded figure filled the narrow hallway, green light reflecting in slitted eyes like a Killing Curse. For the first time in months, Harry felt a chill travel down his spine at the sight of Voldemort as he realised just how deadly this man could be. He was trapped between a door to the unknown and a murderer. A murderer who had tried to take Harry's life multiple times before. The boy forgot to breathe, everything around him became larger, as if he were shrinking. As Harry looked at his hands, he realised that he had shrunk indeed. The shining stone walls reflected the face of a child, no older than six.
''Evan…?'' The uncertain tone did not fit the terrifying image, but that did nothing to stop the child's wheezing breath. A chilly, high laugh echoed from the depths of his memories. A scream-
Two cold hands were placed on his cheeks. ''Evan, get a hold of yourself. Now.''
The commanding tone was somehow calming, as was the touch. This was not someone he had to be afraid of. Fingers splayed close to his own that he wished to grasp, a deep singing voice that unfolded a world of magical beauty, the smell of coffee, grass and flowers… Harry stumbled forwards and clung to the silky robes. As he wrapped his arms tightly around the other, the boy noticed that he was a child no longer.
''I'm okay again. Sorry,'' he whispered shakily. ''I didn't bring us here on purpose, by the way. Not entirely sure where this is. I recognise the courtrooms over there, but this part of the corridor is unfamiliar… I think.'' Though was it really? As Harry turned around again, he saw that the doorknob was connected to a solid black door, which he recalled having seen before. Twice. It hadn't looked nearly as threatening in daylight, but it had when seeing it through Nagini's eyes… Harry sucked in a breath. ''Where does this lead to?'' he demanded to know.
''As this is a dream, to whatever your mind conjures up,'' came the non-answer.
Harry pushed away and glared up at the Dark Lord. ''That's not what I meant. This is where Nagini got attacked. The place Arthur Weasley was guarding for the Order.'' They'd talked about it, hadn't they? Something about a distraction, making Dumbledore think that Voldemort was interested in something much closer to home than saving Veela and Vampires in Europe. ''The prophecy,'' Harry whispered, staring at the door. Behind it lay the first piece of evidence that connected his fate with Voldemort.
''That too,'' the man in question admitted pensively. ''Though the Hall of Prophecies is not the only thing you will find here. The entire Department of Mysteries lies beyond this door, from the Time Room to the Chamber of Death. You've looked around there through my own memories before.'' Harry remembered, thinking of the ominous archway with its tattered curtain waving invitingly. ''I wonder what aspect of this Department was calling to your subconsciousness…'' Voldemort mused.
''Maybe it was just my mind trying to connect memories,'' Harry suggested. ''This door caught my attention last week, yet I couldn't place it. Now I finally know where I've seen it before.''
''Very possible.''
''Can we go through?'' Harry asked, eyeing the shiny knob again. When he lifted his hand, slender fingers took his own and pulled him away from it.
''I cannot recommend doing so. I didn't search you out to uncover mysteries. Take us to a different location.'' The tone was demanding as always, but for once it did not incite the urge to dig his heels in the sand and resist. A hint of ominousness seeped from the door in a way that made him want to both approach it and flee at the same time. Voldemort's words gave him enough strength to choose.
''Away… yes,'' he agreed, taking a step backwards. Nothing good awaited there, only secrets he wasn't sure should be revealed. For now.
Harry stared at it for a second longer, then closed his eyes. He'd been shown how to do this last time, find a different place, create a space for the both of them he was more comfortable with. ''Home,'' he whispered, and opened his eyes to a different scene. Blurry figures whirled past them in a familiar, large, domed room. Streaks of colour drifted through the air, an impression of the many spells left behind. Even the vague noise all around sounded like dimmed shouting. The figures held no significant identifying features, yet he recognised them all instantly.
''Where is this?'' the wizard next to him asked, a hand casually landing on Harry's shoulder. The teen wondered if Voldemort even noticed the gesture himself.
''Hogwarts,'' he smiled, taking in all of the memories the D.A. had left in his mind. A large burning shape galloped through the air.
''I've seen every single room inside of Hogwarts,'' the Dark Lord spoke with confidence. ''I do not recognise this place.''
Harry chuckled at the absolute, unwavering arrogance. ''Admittedly, you have been in this room, technically,'' he spoke in amusement. ''A hidden room on the seventh floor near a tapestry of dancing trolls. Rings any bells?''
''The room of lost and found? That one was filled with clutter and much larger. You must be mistaken.''
''This is Hogwarts, a new surprise waits around every corner,'' Harry fondly said, still staring at his friends. ''This room can change shape into anything you need. Or well, if I recall correctly, it can take two-hundred and thirty-something shapes, finding the one closest to your needs. I still cannot fathom who came up with that, or how much magic is used to contain all of those rooms in one. Dimensional work, I suppose, bubbles within bubbles.''
Voldemort didn't reply to that at first, walking around and studying the walls, which Harry's mind had recreated rather shoddily as always. To the back of the room, the walls even stopped existing altogether, so they stared into a grey space ahead. ''I'll have to study it when I return to the castle,'' the man resolutely spoke. When he turned around again, Harry recognised the glint of obsession in the man's ruby eyes.
''Right, that might be a good idea actually, we'll get rid of Umbridge much faster if she gets a heart attack from being faced with you,'' he joked. ''Being proven so absolutely wrong might do her in.''
''As entertaining as that idea is, I'm not going to ruin my plans for a quick victory on your part. No, I'll have to wait until Hogwarts is mine. And it will be mine, eventually.'' Harry didn't doubt that. ''Before we start on your absolute favourite subject, History of Magic, I would like to inquire how your weekend went. Any trouble?'' The tone was held light, but Harry could feel danger lurking behind those words.
''Is this your way of figuring out how the Malfoys have treated me?'' he asked. ''I do wish to remind you of our agreement.'' An annoyed look was the only response he got. ''Fine, fine. They're actually… not at all what I expected,'' he continued. This was not the time for another discussion, and it wasn't as if he had anything to complain about, Harry reminded himself. It wasn't as if Voldemort would go berserk when hearing Harry had a good time. ''I may have entered there with a few unjustified prejudices in mind. Narcissa especially is very different from the image I had of her, in a good way. She made me feel truly… welcomed.'' He cleared his throat awkwardly to not sounds too emotional. ''A-Anyways, that does bring me to another point.'' His heart sped up, hammering so hard that Harry feared it would wake him up. ''I needed to have a very awkward discussion with them about…'' he trailed off, not knowing exactly how to formulate it. ''You invited me on a date?'' he nervously mumbled instead, hoping with all his might that the Malfoys had not misinterpreted the meaning of that card.
The Gryffindor's entire body was tense even as the other man shifted even closer and wrapped an arm around his torso. ''Is that not to your liking?''
''It's not a question of me liking it!'' Harry instantly protested, realising just how close they stood as he looked up. ''I wasn't.. I didn't know… I don't know where we stand!'' he confessed, rather desperately. Harry wanted so much, had both dreamed of and dreaded the next steps they might take, without having a clue as to what Voldemort actually wanted. Ever since Halloween, where he finally knew the Dark Lord showed an interest in him as well, all of their talks and meetings had been a mess of mixed signals and overstepped boundaries. It was impossible to stop the rush of words: ''You said you needed time and space to clear your head after New Year's Eve to concentrate, made it clear that anything we might have would be still quite a bit in the future, then suddenly you made such an effort on… on Valentine's day of all times, refused to talk about it in any dreams after in favour of studying, and now this? Why?''
Voldemort frowned in a way that made Harry feel as if he were a particularly interesting insect to study. ''It was a logical step,'' the man merely answered, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. ''You made your feelings perfectly clear and although I cannot… reciprocate them exactly, it is good form to follow procedure in the waking world. As we progressed from friends to courting and finally settled in a relationship, announcing it in some form would be fitting. As for why I do not address our personal matters during tutoring… all actions and meetings have a purpose. Speaking of our relationship would distract you from studying, which would defeat the point of my visits. Quite a bit of energy goes into connecting through mind magic so often, why would I risk the efficiency of our lessons?''
Truthfully, Harry didn't hear much after the words 'settled in a relationship.'
''We are… in a relationship?'' Harry asked carefully. As their eyes met, he was certain that the confusion he saw in Voldemort's was reflected in his own.
''We are not?'' the man asked in return. The cold arm that had gripped so tightly before loosened already, and Harry had to take a step forwards to avoid distance being put in between them.
''I don't know!'' he confessed .''You keep expecting me to have some sort of plan when it comes to this, but I'm not an expert in relationships! Hell, of the both of us, you are the one who's had a partner before! Why do you think I hold the answers?'' Carefully, Harry reached up and grasped the front of Voldemort's robes to keep them steady. Snippets of one of their previous talks came to mind, about the difference between physical limitations and emotional ones regarding age limits. Harry felt a tad foolish now. Sure, he'd picked up on Voldemort trying to get closer, but when had they crossed the line between 'trying to figure things out' and 'being together?' ''According to you… since when have we been…?'' he carefully asked.
He tried to suppress a sigh when spidery fingers lightly brushed his cheek, then moved to his forehead and trailed the path of the lightning scar all the way across his nose and lips to rest at the chin. ''If I may quote you…'' Voldemort said as he shifted his grip so they were pushed chest-to-chest. '''I can love plenty for the both of us'. Were those not your words?''
It took a good deal of willpower not to gape. Was Voldemort really putting accidentally starting a relationship on him now? (Not that he could deny that he had said exactly that).
''I think I need a little bit of time to process this,'' Harry admitted faintly, tightening the grip on Voldemort's robes just in case the other misunderstood that as instantly wanting space. ''Truth be told, I was fairly certain that me telling you how I felt didn't change anything for you.''
Slitted pupils dilated ever so slightly. ''We're both astoundingly aware of our intentions now. Prolonging it any further would only serve to dissatisfy us. After New Year's Eve, I was indeed looking for time to focus on other important mattes at hand as I'd only just recovered my standing with Magic. However, one and a half months was plenty of time to do so. I thought you knew.''
''So you inviting me to the Easter Ball…''
''Was my attempt of showing you that I wish for our relationship to become known to others as well,'' Voldemort smoothly replied. ''Especially with the unfortunate situation of you having to be tied to a staunchly Pure-Blood family, who would have… particular views about your future.''
''Yeah, thanks for the warning,'' Harry huffed. ''They were apparently already trying to set up marriage arrangements before even getting custody of me!''
The Dark Lord hissed, baring sharp teeth that made Harry release him in shock. ''What?'' he snarled. ''If another dares lay a finger on you, they'll find their limbs splayed across the country!''
Another statement that he didn't doubt in the slightest, although this one did worry him a teensy bit more than 'Hogwarts will be mine'. They needed to have a few more talks about murder for sure. As much as he respected Voldemort, it was not Harry's intention to become blinded to the man's unacceptable flaws like Barty, or even shrug them off as 'natural' like Nagini. Figuring that it would be best to stamp this in the ground immediately, he firmly told the other: ''I will not be an excuse for you to take more lives. I cannot be that if you wish to keep me.''
The previously uncertain atmosphere vanished instantly. The background noise fell silent too, and when Harry broke eye contact with Voldemort, he could see about fifty figures staring at them silently, waiting. For some reason, Harry got the idea that they would jump into action to protect him from the Dark Lord's wrath if this conversation would take a plunge...
A cold laugh rang in his ears. ''You wish for me to stay silent and complacent while others attempt to take you from me?'' Voldemort asked, harshly grabbing Harry's upper arms and shaking him. ''How can you expect such a thing of me? Me?''
''Voldemort…'' Harry growled, taking one of the hands to still the man. ''I know perfectly well that you handle things differently than I would. But we need to work together and find compromises sometimes. I should not have to be afraid that me interacting with other people would result in their untimely demises if that is not something I want to happen. Even if someone were to come onto me, you should have enough faith to let me handle that by myself. Having you hover over me like a reaper is wildly inappropriate and, quite frankly, a bit insulting. Don't get me wrong, I am not saying that I was happy when hearing Lucius' and Narcissa's plans, but I already shut it down, so there is no need to get angry over it. The other parties involved knew nothing about us, so we cannot blame them for expressing an interest. Likewise, the Malfoys were only doing what they thought was best for me - though I really would have liked for them to inform me beforehand, considering that they simply assumed I wasn't interested in anyone already.''
Although the Dark Lord's slitted nostrils flared, he did seem to have calmed somewhat. ''If someone else would vie for my attention, would you remain silent?'' Voldemort asked. Harry couldn't quite place the tone in which it was said. Curiosity?
''I would only speak up if you would appear to go along with it,'' Harry shrugged. ''And even then, it depends on the situation. 'Attention' is a broad word. There are many people I care deeply about and who would hold my undivided attention when talking to them, even if you're in the same room, so to answer your question… I generally would not interject if someone attempted to catch your attention. Only if some sort of romantic interest would be shown, I'd get uncomfortable and wait to see how you react first. Because that is what's important in the end. If they'd still try after you have expressed your disinterest… well, I might make a scene and start shouting, but there's no need for a duel to the death.''
''Once again, I am astonished at how different we are despite our similarities. I am… envious of your ability to be so lax. I must confess that I killed a great number of people in increasingly violent ways after Severus told me about your lover from Durmstrang. Even knowing afterwards that it was my own soul that you kissed, it was difficult to abate my anger.''
That was not information Harry would have liked to know. It was telling though, that the other felt comfortable enough to speak of it. Getting upset over it now might set a precedent for Voldemort to simply hide his atrocities in the future. So, Harry tried to take in the words with as little judgement as possible. ''I wish I could say I was surprised,'' he merely sighed. ''Please try to find a different solution in the future. In a way, you made me responsible for their lives and the ones they left behind. That's not… ideal.''
''If it eases your snowy white conscience,'' the man sarcastically drawled, ''this was during the time when I joined raids on the slave rings. All who perished were already doomed. The only difference was that I inflicted more malice than I otherwise would have.''
It shouldn't have, but that actually did make Harry feel better about it. He was about to say so when light flooded the room. The grey space at the end was filling with bright rays of sunshine. Dawn. Time had been far to short again, he realised. So much for History of Magic.
Harry tried to cling to the dream even as he felt his body stir. ''Voldemort,'' he called out. ''So this is really… we agree that we're really… together?'' he desperately asked.
''Insecurity doesn't suit you, my dear,'' came the reply in a velvety, amused voice. ''You were already mine before you were even born.''
Half a second later, Harry was back in his bed at Hogwarts, though he kept his eyes closed for a few seconds to replay the entire conversation in his head, engrave every detail in his brain.
Even as he finally opened the heavy bed hangings, Harry was still in a mixture of shock and bliss. 'My dear', he mouthed to the mirror after brushing his teeth. It was a good thing that the dream had cut off right after, he supposed, because what reaction would have been appropriate to that? It was another good thing that it was so early in the morning that his dorm mates were still so tired that they didn't pay much attention to the grin that was plastered on his face. Only Ron might have noticed, but his best friend had Quidditch training. Angelina must be really desperate about their winning chances, even Wood hadn't made the team train on the very last days before holidays as far as Harry could recall.
How would he manage to keep this from his friends for an entire day though? Harry wished desperately to share his excitement, but even if he were to go with the story of getting together with 'his crush', without dropping names, it would be impossible to find an explanation for how this had happened overnight in the middle of a school week. No, the earliest he could share the news would be when seeing them again after the holidays.
Due to his dazedness, getting ready for breakfast took longer than usual. He accidentally tried putting on one of Hermione's old house-elf socks and had to check the books in his bag thrice over as he kept forgetting which classes he actually had on Fridays. By the time he made it to the common room, it was mostly empty already, with Hermione waiting in the middle: hands on her hips and an exasperated expression on his face. ''Finally! Did you get stuck in the toilet?'' she asked, grabbing his arm to drag him to the portrait hole. He was happy to let her talk during their way down, as he was unable to find normal topics of conversation with his head in the clouds. She was listing her holiday plans once more, having planned it to the last detail as per usual. As exams were drawing closer, she would be staying at Hogwarts for some quiet study time rather than visit her parents.
'Being unable to practise magic makes it impossible to put two weeks there to effective use', she'd complained. The girl had tried to convince Ron to stay, but the redhead had quickly made some excuses about how he simply couldn't be apart from his family any longer when figuring out that Harry was leaving this year as well. Neither had tried to talk Harry out of going to the Malfoys, though he assumed that was because they thought he didn't have a choice.
This last week of second term had felt rather strange. Draco may have fallen from grace in Slytherin, the Malfoy name still carried weight, and the fact that Harry was essentially a part of them now ensured that not a single insult had been thrown his way this entire week, not even from Pansy's cronies, who still didn't know that their leader was on Harry's side now. Most teachers also had cut him some slack, with McGonagall asking if he was alright on the Monday he returned and both remedial potion lessons being decent. Snape had had nothing horrible to say about Harry's progress, which was basically a compliment. Only Umbridge was just as awful as before, of course.
It made their silent rebellion even more worthwhile. The D.A. had been delighted to hear about all the snippets Harry remembered from the newspaper he'd read. It was a shame that he was only able to plan a single session for half of the group as there was simply no opportunity for another, but he was sure that all details were passed on to the rest. As Hermione and he sat down for breakfast, only finding spots next to each other because Neville, Dean and Seamus had been nice enough to save some empty seats near them, Harry pondered on what surprises the day would bring. This should be the last day the Aurors were present, but their departure hadn't been officially announced, nor had they cleared Umbridge. Were they still going to pretend investigating her over the Easter holidays to stall time?
It looked that way. Lessons continued as normal, lunch and study time passed without a mention of their guests leaving. The only odd thing about dinner was that Dumbledore's chair was empty, and Harry aimlessly poked at his pudding while trying to come up with reasons why. His paranoid mind instantly jumped to all the terrible things the Headmaster could be doing, such as hunting down Voldemort or uncovering Harry's real motivations. Realistically, he knew there was little reason for worry about that at the moment, but the teen couldn't help it. This was the same man who'd figured out the Dark Lord's method of immortality, down to which vessels he'd used. The only comfort was that doing so had taken years, maybe decades depending on when Dumbledore had first started gathering evidence about his suspicions.
Harry tiredly rubbed his eyes when noticing that his thoughts ended up at the topic of Voldemort once more. Although school days often felt like an eternity, he wasn't any closer to wrapping his head around reality. Should he tell Lucius and Narcissa of this new development before the ball already? Would it even make a difference? If Voldemort thought they'd already been in a relationship for over a month without Harry noticing, it couldn't be that obvious to anyone else either. The Malfoys already knew they were basically on a date, no need to make Narcissa's heart burst in excitement. Harry preferred to first come to terms with it himself.
Speaking of Malfoys… peering across the Great Hall, he met Draco's eyes. Apart from a few expected pleasantries, they hadn't had much time to speak in detail about Harry's weekend, or anything else. Maybe he'd been right to run, Harry thought. Between the necromancy rituals and his closeness to the Dark Lord, Harry wasn't sure he'd want to have himself as a sibling either right now.
Ahh this was such a hard chapter to write. I kept going back and forth with the outcome of all the conversations..
But one of the moments you've all been patiently waiting for is here, they're an item! *fireworks go off in the distance* Of course, it came to be due to their horrid communication skills and Voldemort's lack of underdstanding for basic human norms.
The next chapter will be aaaaallll about the Ball, I promise. I just really needed these scenes in beforehand..
For anyone wondering why we haven't seen Dumbledore freaking out over Harry going to the Malfoys, it's mainly because I couldn't find a good spot for his POV yet. There will be one, hopefully within the eEster holidays still, where we also find out what he's been up to!
Read and review, please :)
Xx Gemerope