Chapter 107 – To overcome the Bogeyman
When the wild ride of yesterday's events and the accompanying high emotions settled, a jarring limbo of uncertainly was left behind in the dust.
The plan was supposed to have been perfect: uncover Parkinson's exaggerated lies, hex a Pureblood or two and maybe scrape together some information her family could use in their relentless fight against evil.
The day before yesterday, the world had been nicely divided in right and wrong. It all blended into an abstract mess now, the blurring lines having no end when Ginny not only found friends and family joining the snakes in the grass, but said snakes were forced into the open and played nice in front of the Ministry of Magic after years of hiding.
With growing concern, she'd been a fly on the wall for hours, listening to theories being thrown around about the Dementor's movements, the possible mobilisation of the Dark Lord's troops and plans being made by her brothers and Hermione to involve the Order. Ron had attempted to draw her into the conversation a couple of times, which she'd refused. Too much was unclear, too many revelations were piling up to form an unorderly heap.
Above all, Ginny could not yet move past the bitterness over her own brothers siding with the very man who'd tried to murder her. Was that unfair? Maybe, for while she had no answer yet about Bill's involvement, Ron had explained to be there because of their mutual friend, and Ginny actually could excuse Harry far easier for doing the same thing. He'd been a victim of Tom more often and severely than she'd been. In her mind, that gave Harry a right of choosing forgiveness that few others had.
When the talks all trailed off into 'wait and see what Harry's opinion is', they uncomfortably settled in for the night. With the Important Scheming out of the way, Ginny half expected Bill to approach her, if only to be berating about rash decisions –admittedly, they had been rash. Stupidly dangerous.
He didn't, not saying another word, looking rather troubled and deep in thought as he stretched out on the pelt-covered floor – the room the four of them shared only held one guest bed and an armchair. As Ginny didn't feel like breaking Bill out of his musings, she curled up next to him, burying her hands and cheek in the soft, ancient furs.
Not that it helped get a wink of sleep. Each soft creaking was as effective as a high-pitched bell, each flickering shadow put Ginny on edge, knowing she was surrounded by dark wizards and witches. People who could creep into her thoughts, into her dreams, inflict pain and death. People who had done so to others and served life in prison for it until being freed.
Ron and Hermione took turns sleeping, she noticed, the other always diligently keeping watch. What were they watching for? That no Death Eaters stormed in for an interrogation? Or rather that she didn't cause trouble? Not for the first time, she wondered if the door was locked. If anything prevented them from leaving or, more importantly, barred anyone from sneaking in.
Being scared was strange. She wasn't used to the feel of fright anymore. Not since overcoming the challenge that had been Tom Riddle and making a firm decision not to wait for others to save her any longer. Ginny had done her utmost to leave the stuttering, nervous girl she'd once been behind, replaced that past version with someone others could rely on, be it when practising blasting curses or during Quidditch, suspended hundreds of feet into the air with Bludgers on the tail of her broom and the pure rush of excitement closing her throat up, not fear.
As much as it pained to admit, Ginny had been terrified ever since laying eyes on this too-real, adult version of Tom. Worse, it was difficult to pick an exact source now: the Dark Lord himself overshadowed by her family breaking into pieces, killers being on the loose, Dementors ruining their peace…
Yesterday at noon, she and the rest of the D. A. had been loudly commemorating and celebrating their emerging victorious in the fight against Umbridge. It felt like child's play now.
She didn't want this. She didn't want war.
''Gin,'' someone whispered, a comforting voice in her ear. ''Oh Gin, come here.''
Embarrassed, she tried to stifle her sobs into Bill's chest when pulled into an embrace. It'd been years since having last cried her heart out like this. Somewhere on the way in the quest for independence, Ginny had forgotten how to rely on those she used to lean on most.
Suddenly, she remembered being eight years old again, sniffling while Bill attempted to heal cuts and scrapes she'd caused by carelessly running into the fields with bare feet, eyes only ever on the distant horizon instead of the bumpy ground. Until Ginny would, without fail, find herself stumbling over roots and with her face planted firmly in the dirt.
It had never deterred her from standing back up and running again, uncaring there'd be a next time she would inevitably get hurt. No, she did not want war, but it had arrived now and there was a choice to make between being a victim of it and fighting to end it.
Not a particularly hard choice, when put like that.
She held tight, praying that the pieces might still be scraped together and mended with time, patience, and most of all, effort. It was time to open her damned mouth and talk about this.
''Do mum and dad know that you…?'' she whispered.
''I barely knew since a couple of weeks ago,'' he sighed in return, gently releasing her.
Bill sat up, procuring a strap of dragon hide out of thin air and proceeded to tie his hair back. A usual morning routine that showed he'd make no attempt to sleep again. On the chair that had been shoved to the wall to free up space, Hermione very much tried and failed to ignore their conversation for the sake of decency and privacy. Not exactly possible in a room that had clearly been intended for one person. When searching for a place to crash without running into a dozen other stranded people, Bill and she had ended up in a faraway, secluded spot and not bothered with going out again to claim a larger one when Ron and Hermione had joined a while later.
''What do you mean, a few weeks?''
Tiredly, her brother rubbed his face. ''I went with mum and dad to save Ron, Harry and Hermione. Dumbledore was convinced that You-Know-Who kept them captive, so we staged a rescue mission. It did… not at all turn out as we thought it would, as you might imagine.'' He nodded shortly to a loudly snoring Ron, who'd already told her a more detailed version of what had happened that night. Ginny could thus imagine very well how much it must have thrown Bill off. ''I learned much that day. Most of all, I was left uncertain of what to do, who to listen or turn to. While still in two minds, I received an invitation for yesterday's celebration, at which my girlfriend revealed she'd been directly working for You-Know-Who for months.''
Ginny couldn't hold back a grimace. There was only one female friend Bill had been close enough to yesterday to come into question for being his girlfriend. ''You are honestly together with Fleur? But she's so- so-''
Fleur was the picture-perfect example of what she imagined 'high French pureblood nobility' to look like. What did her down-to-earth sibling find attractive about that? Sure, Fleur had shown some skill in the Triwizard Tournament, but had not even made it to the end of the second task, needing Harry to play saviour.
Bill crinkled his nose in amusement, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. ''If you would only give her chance, there's so much more to Fleur than meets the eye.''
''Oh yeah, like being a loyal employee to him.'' It came out harsher than she'd intended. That didn't mean the sentiment wasn't there. She was glad Fleur wasn't here either, having hastily left as soon as the Healer had dismissed her.
''So are many others we never expected to side with dark mages,'' he countered, glancing up at Hermione. ''I'm willing to be open-minded when seeing those I love and trust the opinion of stand firmly behind him. Fleur gave me excellent reasons for why she agrees to You-Know-Who's current ideology and Ron had his very life saved by this man. I can't ignore that in blind hatred. Don't do so either. I mean it, Gin. Especially after what happened yesterday, we can't afford to be divided.''
Did Ron's life being saved negate the attempt to snuff out hers? It was worth consideration, a new perspective Ginny wasn't sure she wanted to think too hard about right now, still fraught from the raw edges of yesterday. She stubbornly looked away, facing Hermione instead. ''You didn't seem to get along with him much. The way you defied You-Know-Who was admirable. What is your take, especially as a Muggle-born?''
The other shifted uncomfortably at being so suddenly dragged into the discussion. ''Voldemort is-'' she started, and Ginny tried not to wince at the name, ''-not evil. Yet neither is he good.'' Frizzy hair was plucked at by nervous fingers. ''What I do believe after witnessing everything unfold, is that he is inevitable.''
''I don't understand.''
More bluntly than usual, Hermione stated: ''We are dealing with an immortal who is convinced of having been chosen by a higher being to lead his people. He won't rest voluntarily and has already shown that death does not stop him from rising once more to chase the goal of gathering a following and pushing his ideas on others through any means necessary. This is combined with ruthlessness, selfishness and a sharp intelligence that shouldn't be underestimated. You see, he did not need to be in the spotlight to touch even the furthest corners of Europe. After just a few years, many governments already unwittingly follow the path of increasing tolerance of dark magic that he paved for them. Hundreds of mages actively participate in riots and rebellions against the established ruleset, all organised by him behind the scenes. And the only one with the power to stop him… does not want to.''
''Harry,'' she concluded, which was affirmed by a nod. ''But he too argued against You-Know-Who…''
''Thankfully. I'm honestly not quite sure where we'd be without Harry talking sense into Voldemort every single day. Against all odds, the Dark Lord became a better person than who he used to be, going by the stories I read about the last war. Willing to listen even to the opinion of Muggle-borns such as I nowadays instead of keeping up the ideal of blood purity for the sake of appeasing his old following.''
Ginny had wondered about that shift when witnessing Tom put the crowd in their place by vouching for Hermione's worth. A truly astonishing sight.
''I still would have kept fighting even if it'd have been useless,'' Hermione continued, ''If not for the fact that I have come to understand that the major changes he wants are not undesirable. Now he's dropped the ruse of blood purity to placate his influential supporters, it is only his methods that I disagree with… methods I am fortunate enough to be able to influence somewhat. As for the rest, I trust in Harry, who also assured me to be actively involving himself in steering Voldemort's hand. It's not perfect but-'' she squared her jaw. ''With Voldemort's and Harry's combined strength, there has to be a way to make it so.''
Ginny wondered if Hermione truly believed that or if she was making the best out of a bad situation.
Not that they had many good situations to pick and choose from.
''So,'' Bill calmly cut in. ''Opposing You-Know-Who no longer is the clear-cut right path it used to be. Born out of a hunger for power or not, his recent decisions have led to positive results. He even let our parents and I go after we attacked his house, as a reward to Ron as far as I heard, which really goes to show the image of 'bloodthirsty madman' is incorrect or outdated. Several of those taken prisoner that day also re-appeared seemingly unscathed not long after. It's why I accepted the invitation. To show I give all this a chance. The biggest question is whether the Ministry of Magic will accept it, too.''
It was this that kept them busy until dawn, hours which Ginny spent reflecting. She wanted to throw her personal grievances into the room, demand answers from her brothers, but it didn't feel right. Bill was worried about all that was at stake, not just his sister's feelings. The Dementors were the main threat right now, not Tom.
And was it really Tom, so deceptively nice until cruelty had shown, or was You-Know-Who a mirror image? The Dark Lord openly displayed viciousness. It was the more palatable side that was hidden now. A side that had apparently tended to her brother when fatally injured, that had kept Harry safe, that even respected a Muggle-born enough to have polite conversation with. Could a person truly change this much? Or… had the artefact that had stored Tom's memories warped his soul?
Beams of morning sun lit up the room, and yet no-one had come to fetch them or asked about the ideas for contacting the Order of the Phoenix Harry had tasked his friends with. Hunger was a gnawing thing that was hard not paying attention to. She tentatively asked about searching for the kitchens, at which Hermione sternly reminded they'd been told to stay put. Running into crazed Death Eaters was too great a risk. Ginny had no idea how many of them were still here. Had anyone been allowed to go home?
She admired Bill's reflexes when the door was suddenly thrown open (so it hadn't been locked) and her brother crouched in front of her, wand pointed at the newcomer.
''Whoa,'' Harry said, slowly raising his hands. ''It's just me.''
'Just me' accompanied by a strong gust of the stench of iron, Ginny couldn't help but notice. It was hard to see on the dark robes Harry wore, but there were specks of red all over his hands and face.
''Harry Potter, why are you covered in blood?'' Hermione asked the only sensible question, jumping up from her chair and putting both hands on her hips. On the bed, Ron sleepily mumbled something about loud noise and went right back to snoring.
''Don't give me that look, I healed someone okay? That's all.''
''And healing was required because…?''
Emerald eyes shifted around the room uncomfortably, not meeting any of theirs. ''Voldemort may have lost his temper a little bit when someone suggested the solution to this whole mess to be throwing me to the Dementors.''
''Oh…'' All anger faded, sucked out of Hermione as if she'd been popped like one of those Muggle things called 'balloneys'. ''Oh Harry…'' Then, she gave him a wary one-over. ''It looks like he lost his temper more than a little bit. Did he try to sever someone's limbs?'' The question was asked so casually that Ginny wondered if it had been meant in jest or if her friends had been so desensitized to violence from being around the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters that dismemberment had become a normal topic of conversation.
''Does a head count as a limb?'' the other tiredly replied, confirming her theory. ''Thankfully there were no actual casualties, I jumped in fast enough. In a way, I'm glad that Voldemort was so furious that he wanted it to hurt, for a straight Killing curse would have been unstoppable.''
So much for You-Know-Who possibly being less savage than Tom, deep down. In the silence that descended – really, what was an appropriate response to that kind of comment? – Harry's gaze hushed over her. He wasn't terribly surprised even now the disguise of Eloise Parkinson had been removed.
''Are you okay?'' he asked, drawing everyone's attention away from the state he was in.
No, Ginny thought. ''I will be,'' she answered, hoping for it to be the truth. ''On the other hand, I'm not sure how mum and dad are faring. I only made an excuse to be away for the evening, they surely expected me to be home before midnight. Mum has already been on edge all year, ever since the fight with Percy, then dad getting hurt, then Ron and you going missing…''
''I saw your dad at the Ministry earlier, it didn't look like he was concerned. Whatever your cover story for last evening was seems to have held up.''
''Fred,'' she smiled, relieved. ''Makes sense he'd be able to spin my absence in a way that won't worry them for a while. Although I can imagine Fred and George themselves are more than a little frantic by this point. Can I leave to visit them?''
She'd expected the head-shake of denial. It stung, nonetheless.
''Not yet. In a bit, when everything's cleared up. I went ahead-'' (ahead of whom or what?) ''-to bring you up to speed on our meeting and… recent developments.'' A shadow fell over his face, the bright green of a fresh pickled toad turning a shade darker. ''Can someone wake Ron?''
''Impossible,'' she and Bill said as one. Despite the strange situation Ginny had found herself in, it was nice to share a conspiratorial grin with her oldest brother. Waking Ron up when he'd had little sleep was not worth attempting.
Hermione seemed to be of a different opinion. Not ten seconds later, Ron was wide awake and soaking wet from the cold water she'd drenched the bed in. ''You are cruelty personified,'' he moaned, shivering even as Hermione took pity by drying his robes with another spell. Ginny's hand drifted to her own wand when catching onto the Trace clearly not activating in this building. ''Why are we friends?''
''Would you rather the Dark Lord wake you up again?'' the witch smiled sweetly, effectively shutting her friend up.
The 'again' was intriguing enough to ask for the rest of the story, had there been time. Unfortunately, Harry cut any further questions and arguing short by sitting down on the floor and casting some cleaning charms on his hands and robes while explaining what had gone down in the Ministry, from Fudge's hasty exit to the installation of Madam Bones and her new team.
''All in all, it went much better than I'd feared. Bones is qualified, many of her advisors are either on or side or at least have a good head on their shoulders. I managed to get Cedric in under guise of new ideas from fresh employees in hopes it'll give him a good start. His passion will truly be an asset, whether he sides with us in the end or not. On another positive note, the Ministry isn't actively looking to throw us in jail anymore for destroying their property. It'll give Voldemort and I the freedom to figure out ways to counter the expected Dementor attacks effectively.''
There was much he'd glossed over, Ginny found, such as who exactly was at the top of the Ministry now. Surely Tom would not really leave it to a neutral party and insist on interfering.
She was getting quite sick of only listening, unable to add useful ideas due to still being torn about how to effectively help her friends and family. Hermione's speech had made most sense so far but was not convincing enough to throw all caution to the wind and rally behind the same person who'd happily let a Basilisk loose in Hogwarts at age sixteen to slaughter his peers. There had to be a better alternative. Maybe she could convince Bill to let her into the Order… although their parents would surely protest.
''And that brought me back here,'' Harry said. There was an edge to his voice that told Ginny the story wasn't quite over. There'd been no devastating news that explained his worsened mood. Her friend heaved a sigh as if to gather courage. ''Where Voldemort informed me of certain bits he withheld from telling me in the morning so I wouldn't be distracted at the Ministry. In short, Umbridge is creating problems again.''
''Umbridge?'' Ginny exclaimed in disgust, leaning forward. ''What do you mean? I thought she was gone!''
''Gone to join the werewolves, yeah,'' he affirmed. ''I'd hoped it would take away any power she had and in a way it did – she couldn't return to her job, had no more say in Hogwarts and all her 'important' contacts cut her off – but clearly, Dementors don't care about any of that.'' The implications of that heavy sentence sank in slowly, not even Ron having a joking remark at the tip of his tongue to fill the silence.
''She commands them still?'' Hermione fearfully asked. ''Even now?''
''It seems that way. It's honestly baffling, I can't imagine she'd care to learn their language or habits but somehow she is their perfect leader. Uncaring about anything but herself, sending them off to reap souls without minding the consequences.''
''Wouldn't be the first time'' Ginny mentioned. ''She didn't give a damn about the rips in time she created either, as long as she got to hop around the castle fast enough to catch every one of us red-handed.''
Her words only served to get Harry more downtrodden. ''I should have listened to Sirius. I was so obsessed by the idea of Umbridge getting her dues by living as something she despised that I wilfully ignored the danger. In my wish for her to hurt I completely overlooked who else it would harm in the process. Instead of a cage, I gave her different power. I should have killed and bound her to me.''
After displaying the ability to rip what she'd believed to be indestructible spectres out of existence, nothing about Harry's powers came as a shock anymore. The casual way he threw this idea into the room however, was. And sure, it was Umbridge they were talking about, but Harry speaking of offing a human being felt fundamentally wrong.
''That would have been incredibly immoral,'' Hermine threw in her two Knuts. ''Remember, this wasn't only your decision. She was tried by the werewolves she'd oppressed who also found this sentence appropriate. The idea of murdering Umbridge in hopes you could revive her well enough to command around is… is-'' she struggled to find appropriate words of condemnation. ''I wouldn't have been able to look you in the eye again if you misused your power to purposefully create yet another race of magical slaves.''
He smiled weakly. ''Thanks Hermione. That does make me feel a bit better. Sirius was so adamant about me having made the wrong choice…''
Ginny was not quite sure why they were focusing on past choices when the problem at hand was clearly Umbridge being back for revenge. ''We have to act,'' she firmly stated. A couple of stares were the only reaction. ''What? I'm not letting that toad trample on all we worked for! We won against her once, we can do it again!''
This wasn't about supporting Tom anymore, or picking sides at all. Perhaps it was mostly about postponing having to do so. ''I'll gather the D. A.,'' she insisted, scrambling to her feet. All remaining fright was burned away as soon as Umbridge had been mentioned. ''No matter how many Dementors she hides behind, I bet that she's not forgotten to fear the 'little kids' who ruined her life and pushed her out of Hogwarts. Harry, you must see that-''
A literal shadow fell across the room when the door opening was filled once more. With the state Harry had appeared in, she'd imagined Tom to be covered in blood also, but white skin was untouched by any crimson that didn't originate from his unnerving irises. The bedroom became far too small as soon as he stepped over the threshold. All warning bells were going off at once long before he granted Ginny a single look.
Spindly limbs folded so strangely that she was prepared for him to start crawling on walls like a creature from one of those vintage horror films her dad collected, but he only crouched down next to Harry – far too close to her, but Ginny refused to back down, not about to be intimidated again - and wrapped an arm around her friend.
In the aftermath of the Dementor attack, she'd been so frozen that Ginny had barely been able to concentrate on anything that had been said to or near her. The memory of Tom addressing Harry as 'darling' returned in full force when the two moved as one, sharing a casual kiss in greeting. It didn't even last a second before the Dark Lord turned to the rest of them, asking a question that she missed from the strange ringing in her ears. Well… all of this now made both more and less sense.
Fred and George each owed her three whole Galleons, as they'd teased that the reason her crush hadn't been reciprocated was not Harry having no interest in girls. Her latest info had only been that he'd not felt attraction towards anyone yet. Nice, now she could finally buy a proper set of dragonhide Quidditch gloves.
Wait, was that why Ron had been so happy about her moving on?
While Ginny was busy figuring out just how relieved she should be about getting over that particular crush, she didn't realise that Harry had called her name until Bill took her hand and did the same. ''Gin? You were in the middle of something.''
Right. She had been. Clearing her throat, she gathered her wits again, staring straight at Harry if only to avoid glancing at Tom.
''Dumbledore's Army,'' she spoke with a twinge of petty satisfaction, ignoring how her friend gave her a 'really' look. ''We have to focus on the important bits, yeah? The way I see it, preventing Umbridge from selling everyone's souls is a teensy tiny bit more important than anything else right now. And even if Sirius and Professor Lupin are hunting her down, they will most certainly underestimate how dangerous she is, just like every teacher did. Just like the public did. We are the ones who took away her toys and weren't afraid to take action even at the risk of torture. We can do it again. So unless you have another grand idea Harry, I will gather the D. A. to do exactly that.''
A soft hiss from Tom ensured no-one spoke before he did: ''You are of such a rank that you can?''
The short bursting snort from Harry, followed by a very bad cover-up of his amused expression, was warranted at the weird question. ''Again, I know you like calling them my army, dear, but we don't really have ranks.''
''The way you operate-''
''-worked so far,'' her friend shrugged. ''Wouldn't have it any other way either. I got used to hierarchies and all that Slytherin lot and it's great for those who like to adhere to it, but especially the extended D. A., most of whom aren't aware of any of this yet, are just a bunch of friends who practised magic to stick it to Umbridge. I can't and won't forbid them from acting as a group just because I'm not there to lead the charge. Not that it matters, 'cause I think it's a wonderful idea,'' he proclaimed, turning back to Ginny. ''Nearly all Patroni that protected us against Dementors came from members of the army. Apart from maybe Voldemort and I, you guys are the most well-equipped to handle Umbridge when it comes down to a confrontation.''
Having Harry's approval meant more than she would admit to, so Ginny grimly nodded, already busy planning whom to contact first to get the ball rolling. Ironically, the first who came to mind was gossip queen Pansy Parkinson. Time for another rocky collaboration?
Tom's open discontentment was pretty rewarding now it could not touch her – or at least didn't yet, maybe she'd eat those words if he decided to forego this front of politeness and cast an Unforgivable curse for her impudence of taking control. For now, it felt good to proactively remove herself from his direct sphere of influence by doing her own thing, unlike her brothers who followed his orders now.
''It is an uncalculated risk,'' he stated, eyes narrowing into slits when Harry only raised an eyebrow. ''Which… only encourages all of you…'' With a huff, Tom rose to his feet. ''If you must. Many details previously kept secret have already been made public as of today, and spreading the news of Umbridge's recent alliance will discredit the old government to such an extent that the transition of Bones taking over will progress more smoothly. Informing the Defence Association of Umbridge's actions will not conflict with our own plans.''
She thought of pushing it by telling Tom that she didn't need his blessing, actually. Only the sparse splotches of drying blood that Harry hadn't been able to remove from his face made her swallow those words. Fighting Umbridge was difficult from beyond the grave. Ginny was born with some common sense.
''Let us discuss further details at breakfast, the sound of hunger is tipping to scale to revolting.''
''What do you mean with 'the sound of hunger'?'' she blurted out, just as her own stomach gave an uncomfortable squeeze. It didn't make any sound audible to her, yet earned a blazing glower, nonetheless. Tom had never mentioned having supernatural hearing. An ability gained later in life? As the older boy had liked to rave about all he'd learned and could teach her, Ginny was certain it would have come up otherwise.
They made their way back to the main hallway, in the middle of which large tables had been placed, one of which occupied by far more people than she'd have liked to see. Her stomach turned not out of hunger when spotting the faces of known convicts. Upon approaching the table, she saw Bellatrix Lestrange tearing into chicken drumsticks with teeth that had seen better days. She resembled a wild animal being fed for the first time in weeks.
Ginny might have felt sorry, if not for the fact that the husks of Neville's parents occasionally plagued her dreams still. Minds broken beyond repair by the twisted wand of this beast.
Bellatrix hurriedly wiped greasy lips and fingers on a napkin when the Dark Lord took his seat at the empty head of the table. Only one other chair on that side was unoccupied – to Tom's direct left - which Harry tentatively sat down on after a few quick hisses exchanged between them.
''It is a pleasure to share a meal like this after so many years,'' the man spoke, entirely glossing over her friend's discomfort, which caused protectiveness to flare up in her chest. She'd have to keep a close watch to ensure Harry was not being strung along against his will in any way. ''To ease conversation, I ask you to break decorum this once and move a few seats back to allow our guests in our midst.''
For most likely having grown up with Pureblood etiquette drilled into their arses, the Death Eaters were shockingly quick to comply to this unorthodox request. Refusing to act like the odd one out, Ginny purposefully plopped into the chair next to the only person who hadn't moved, the Dark Lord's right-hand man going by the seating arrangement. The man's own right hand sported three silver fingers. Was this the often-mentioned Barty Crouch? The same who'd pretended to be their Defence teacher for a whole year? He'd been wicked good at the job, but still. Not cool. And if she'd picked up the right clues from yesterday's conversation, he was now pretending to be Dumbledore in public. She didn't quite know how to feel about that after all the Headmaster had pulled according to Ron.
''I'm Ginny,'' she introduced herself, holding out a hand, which the man took with a great deal of bemusement – and after a quick glance to his Lord.
''Barty, Barty Crouch,'' he confirmed her theory. The silver fingers were cold, indeed made out of some sort of metal even as they moved like flesh. Fascinating.
Hermione and Ron joined Harry, whereas Bill protectively placed himself on Ginny's right, which was maybe not necessary, but appreciated nonetheless.
Although everyone had been enjoying breakfast before their arrival, none moved to continue. They patiently watched their Lord, who had loosely folded his hands in a strange gesture that reminded of Muggles praying yet was not quite the same, spindly fingers forming a flat lattice over his empty plate. The words he recited were obviously a prayer, though not one Ginny had heard before, thanking some 'lady of life' for the food. Most everyone appeared to know the words, even Harry and Ron.
As she looked down the table, she met the haughty look of one Draco Malfoy, incredibly proud to sit here between his parents and their… acquaintances. Death Eaters both old and new, she assumed from the faces she recognised. It was a shock to find both her Defence and History teacher among them. She knew there'd been something fishy about the Carrows… Seeing Snape right next to them was decidedly not a surprise, as she'd already spotted him yesterday and he'd helped Harry escape from the Aurors at Hogwarts, which now finally made sense. Much further away, she saw another familiar face: Ursa Saeth, who'd been at Rosa Lee's teashop with the rest of the D.A. the previous afternoon…
''In-detail introductions can wait,'' Tom decided when done. ''Much needs to be taken care of in a short amount of time. William, as part of the Order of the Phoenix-'' A few angry hisses only quieted when their Lord waved them away. ''No need for hostility, my friends. The old Order is gone and many members of the new have already seen behind the curtain, recognising their flaws. It is why we are offering a gracious hand of mercy. William, let us hear your plans. Speak openly.''
Her eldest brother complied, carefully summarising that which had occupied their evening. It was a decent plan, using Patroni as messengers to call for a personal gathering, which would be easiest to get everyone up to speed regardless of their current knowledge. After Dumbledore's capture, Bill explained, everyone in the Order had a vastly different level of information, a sore point that could lead to strife if they were to ask for help through written correspondence sent to various different members.
''I agree with your assessment of an in-person meeting. Your chosen method to call them, however, leaves much to be desired,'' Tom commented. ''We are at war with Dementors and currently unaware of how many have already reached the mainland. I have received reports of sightings from my spies across the entire east coast in the past hours. They've made no move to attack yet, but by releasing Patroni to travel halfway across Great Britain in various directions, you might as well light a beacon guiding them our way. Dementors are capable of triangulation.''
''It is the standard form of communication in the Order and cannot be falsified,'' Bill countered. ''Any other method than this will be scrutinised, especially after your showing at the Ministry today. Floo or apparition are unreliable alternatives as not all members will be near a floo point and apparating all over is too time-consuming. Not to mention exhausting. Even so, they'd be wary of Polyjuice or other disguises. Patroni can reliably identify the caster.''
''Incorrect. Two very different people may have guardians that take the same form, and voices can be imitated,'' the Dark Lord pointed out. ''Blindly trusting in this spell to identify your people is foolish. Nymphadora Tonks fully believed Albus Dumbledore fought off the Dementors with us, simply due to the coincidence of my own Phoenix Patronus.''
''Tonks?'' Lestrange shrilly cut in. ''My little niece is dallying with the likes of Dumbledore? How typical of those blood traitors to allow such horrid company.''
Tonks was the closest to a role-model Ginny had ever seen. She already opened her mouth to defend the woman, but Harry was faster, aggressively proclaiming: ''Maybe the real traitors are those who abandon their blood for the unforgivable crime of being accepting and tolerant.''
She'd expected to see some real dark magic after that outburst. From the way silence cloaked the hall to the point of choking, she was not the only one preparing for painful curses. Very few exceptions kept eating as if nothing out of the ordinary had been said. Harry's new 'family' among them. Crouch too, interestingly enough. She could swear the man had rolled his eyes.
''Evan, let them acclimatise first,'' Tom murmured, sounding irked as he busied himself with tearing bits of bread apart.
Righteous fury was unleashed onto the Dark Lord directly, then: ''You don't want those on the light side to cause 'infighting'? The same goes for your people.''
''Our people,'' was the only response.
Anger faded as the two traded a look that should have been kept behind closed doors. It went on painfully long, too, as if they were having a conversation that only the two of them could hear. A sharp clearing of the throat down the table – Narcissa Malfoy – made the Dark Lord tear his gaze away with the greatest difficulty at last.
A bit embarrassed, Ginny suddenly remembered her own crush, using each breakfast, lunch and dinner to endlessly stare. Maybe this was one point Tom couldn't be blamed for. Harry just had that effect on people.
As if he hadn't just been pathetically obvious about mentally undressing her friend, Tom continued: ''There is a smidge of truth in Evan's words. We are to lead by example to stand as one. Putting those below you in their place will not make them learn or accept our point of view. Your family's ways of banishment only strengthened the ranks of our enemies with capable fighters.''
Lestrange did not utter any counterarguments. As if put under mind control, she enthusiastically and breathlessly agreed: ''Your words are wise as always, my Lord. To be graced by the advice of a god-''
''Bella,'' Tom swiftly warned, tone sharp and piercing. ''You are testing my patience. Having you back among my ranks is a blessing of Magic, but you seem to have conveniently forgotten some of her teachings. I am a voice, a hand: powerful and to be obeyed yes, yet not the goddess herself. Your transgression yesterday was overlooked due to your understandable confusion. Today, you cannot hide behind that.''
As he continued speaking, it was as if Tom gradually morphed into something that was both more and less than human. The small gestures he'd displayed before, frowns of irritation and fleeting soft glances aimed towards Harry, all vanished. He was as untouchable as when having sat on the hewn throne in front of an overflowing altar, entirely alien. Almighty as he put Lestrange in her place through words alone.
''I only wished-'' the woman protested, cut off when the men who sat on either side of her grabbed a shoulder and hand respectively. The other Lestranges, though Ginny couldn't tell who was who, both dark-haired with gruff beards.
It was Harry who cleared his throat next, awkwardly steering the conversation back on track. ''So, the Order?'' he asked, raising an eyebrow at Tom, who hummed, cold gaze still fixed on Bellatrix Lestrange as he spoke:
''Regardless of the Patronus not being infallible, I concede to it being the most viable option in this moment. We will obscure our location by sending each one from a vastly different starting point. Let us move onto the message itself, then.''
Bill didn't look very comfortable announcing this plan to so many people, taking a moment to warily glance at their audience before continuing: ''About half of the remaining Order knows that Dumbledore is no longer an actual influence, my parents included. To avoid chaos, Ron proposed we invite different groups at different times, starting from the ones who know most and ending with those completely uninformed. That way we can both avoid repetition and be more of a united front against anyone who completely rebuffs this new turn of events. Since they will all undoubtedly share information amongst each other afterwards, there's no sense in hiding any details. Their support will be invaluable. We can only get that by first earning trust.''
Tom dipped his head, a gleam in ruby eyes as he softly spoke: ''Enlightening the Order of recent happenings will at the same time be a good opportunity to sort out who will continue to oppose us and do away with them.''
The comment, no more than a murmur, was enough to change the atmosphere entirely.
''I am not going along with this to sell out my friends and family,'' Bill harshly warned, hand moving to the handle of his wand. To her left, Ginny noticed Crouch did the same, eyes dangerously trained on her brother. Just in case, she prepared herself mentally to tackle the Death Eater to the ground if he'd dare attack.
''Then be convincing,'' Tom retorted. ''I cannot have people of Shacklebolt's calibre ruin the fragile peace we accomplished today by starting another rebellion. If word about Dumbledore's true location gets out from trusted sources, this government will collapse and leave its citizens easy food for the Dementors to graze on. I am employing diplomacy for one reason alone: to get ahead faster. You'd do well to remember that if your precious Order ruins this collaboration between myself and the Ministry, I'll have to tear it all down to have any hope of saving the magical community on these isles. That will mean blood, far more than will flow when silencing the voices of those who are willing to raise it against me. That goes for you and the D. A., too,'' he added, gaze sliding over to Ginny. ''Understood?''
The stakes were far higher than she had anticipated. She could see it now, a card house of famous witches and wizards collapsing under the pressure of war. One wrong move, one word too many…
Though loathe to agree with Tom on anything, she reluctantly nodded and spoke: ''I'd like to not be responsible for starting yet another battle.''
''The ones we need to convince most of all,'' Ron spoke up, ''Are the teachers of Hogwarts.''
Tom raised a thin eyebrow, cocking his head as if he was considering something. ''Hogwarts? The school is not my focal point at the moment. Naturally, having McGonagall's backing will be helpful, yet it is the Aurors who are in the position to cause most trouble and who can give most aid. It'll be a different story after summer, but the castle is empty save for the staff for another month. A staff Severus already has under control.'' A few seats away, Snape and the Carrow siblings were listening attentively.
Ron's determined look turned hesitant, and whatever idea he had had might have died right then and there until Harry encouraged: ''Do go on. Ron, why the teachers?''
Ears turning pink, her brother stuttered: ''You know… Cause of the size. And the shields. I figured we'd use it as a base if we have the teachers' cooperation? There's of course err… you guys-'' he nodded to the current teachers in attendance ''But I don't know if the rest of staff won't give you a hard time like with Umbridge if they figure out you're all Death Eaters.''
When Ron was met with several noncomprehending looks and the rosy tint spread further down his neck, Ginny jumped in, determined to prove to everyone that despite his fumbling way of speaking, her brother's idea in itself was pretty ingenious. ''What I think Ron is trying to say, is that Hogwarts is a castle fit to house hundreds, if not thousands of people if all space is used efficiently, covered with a shield that repels Dementors. Dumbledore's little parting gift as a middle finger to Umbridge, remember?''
''Of course!'' Harry groaned, slapping his forehead. Or attempting to, hand plucked right out of the air. The reprimanding look was answered by nothing less than an impressively dramatic eye-roll. ''I'm not going to die from hitting myself.''
''It will hurt you.''
Harry scoffed humorously. ''So did most of the excruciating rituals you put me through.''
''All of which had a purpose. Hitting your scar serves no purpose and-'' the man let out a series of drawn-out hisses. She could not speak Parseltongue anymore of course, had only been able to due to being possessed by someone who could and not understood a word of Harry's and the Dark Lord's earlier exchanges. So why did the last sharp hiss come out so clearly as 'Tom'? Was she going insane again?
''Ginevra.'' It took a second to figure the reason why she could understand this name was that it had been spoken in plain English.
''Yes?'' she unsteadily asked, lifting her chin to meet a blood-red gaze she'd once only known from her own mirror image.
''How much can you say about this protection Dumbledore provided? Did it last?''
How would she be able to answer that? Just because no Dementors showed up at Hogwarts after didn't mean it was necessarily because of Dumbledore's gift. ''Shouldn't Snape be asked that question?'' she shot back. ''You know, current Headmaster of Hogwarts? Sitting right there?'' Irritation shot across the flat face, displeasure shown so blatantly that she briefly felt eleven again. Ginny tried her very best not to look as put in her place as she felt. ''I didn't inspect the wards before leaving for the holidays if that's your question. I only know that according to Professor McGonagall, Professor Dumbledore's Patronus merged with the existing shields and should protect us for a while. She didn't mention for how long. Not sure if she knew.''
The obvious annoyance only waned when Tom's attention drifted over to Severus. ''Can you confirm this? I was under the impression that the Patroni only chased the Dementors away temporarily. That the Ministry simply saw no use in ordering them back when the same could happen once more after Dumbledore set an example. If these wards have held, Hogwarts's importance shifts drastically. Combined with extension charms, the castle could fit a decent chunk of our population, making it of immeasurable value. Perhaps it could even serve as…'' he fell silent after those last whispered words.
A strange feeling overcame Ginny, as if a heavy, invisible tidal wave rushed across the room. It hurt, in her chest and in her head. Hermione seemed to be having trouble breathing too, but everyone else was fine. In fact, Harry sighed contentedly, leaning closer to Tom while closing his eyes in evident bliss. ''You're doing the tipsy thing again,'' Harry murmured, just when Ginny was trying to calculate whether she could cast a Bat-Bogey Hex as a disruption faster than any of the Death Eaters could react to stop her.
''I had a most brilliant idea,'' Tom softly spoke, a sinister smile playing around his lips. The uncomfortable static died down.
''I figured. Care to share it?''
''With you. Another day. Severus, your evaluation?''
The Potion Professor, who looked as unaffected by anything here as he was in the classroom, steepled thin fingers together and stated: ''Dumbledore never explicitly mentioned the finer details of his spellwork regarding the banishment of the Dementors from Hogwarts. You have seen all conversations we shared after his departure, my Lord. This topic did not arise. Should Umbridge have been able to summon them back however, I'm certain she'd have done so the instant it became possible regardless of official Ministry orders. I thus tend to a lend credibility to the theory that this was a more permanent solution. It would be recommended to have the wards inspected by an expert before relying on this as fact.''
''I'm a curse breaker,'' Bill offered, ''Deal with wards daily.''
Crouch chuckled sarcastically. ''No offense to your skill, boy, but you understand why we need someone we can trust completely for this job, yes? Not the latest runaway of the organisation who's been attempting to topple everything we want and plotted to murder our leader.''
''Trust goes both ways.''
''Cease your arguing,'' Tom harshly demanded. ''I'd allow none with less experience than myself to test the wards of Hogwarts if it is meant to be our new haven. As such, I will go myself, accompanied by Severus to ensure the castle allows me in.''
The final word about the matter having been spoken, conversation moved onto details Ginny was surprised she was allowed to hear, as a complete outsider. Movements of Death Eaters and theories on death magic among them, as one of Tom's followers dared ask how Harry had killed the Dementors. She silently took note of it all, memorising every detail that struck her as important. It was always good to know more than less.
For once, Ginny would have a story to tell so wild that even her girlfriend might not believe it.
XxX
Recruiting Weasleys was more challenging than initially anticipated. When Ginevra Weasley had stumbled into the Lughnasadh celebration of her own accord, he'd imagined turning this one as quickly as her two brothers. However, she held too much wariness, too much sheer hatred – which, while useful in a grander context of the magnitude of the spellwork it could fuel, was bothersome when directed towards him, specifically. Attempts to let her speak had merely turned into frustratingly biting questions.
Voldemort should have more important matters to attend to than attempting to win over one more teenager. However… it was intriguing to try, especially when he found no easy way to do so.
Everyone wanted something. His primary tactic of recruitment in recent times had been to find what that was and cater to it. Ginevra Weasley however, wanted neither gold, nor fame, nor protection. She had already gained independence and shed the need for recognition after his diary had made her regret opening up so much in order to attain it. The only strong desire he'd found in her mind had been to protect anyone she cared for, also useless when it was the same sort of blanket-protection he'd so far only felt from Harry, not directed towards a specific person who actually needed it.
He entertained the idea of endangering Lovegood so severely that Ginevra would need to ask for his aid to save the one she loved from unspeakable horrors. Unfortunately, that one also belonged to Harry's army and was as such untouchable. His preaching to Bellatrix of setting examples would become a tad hypocritical if he'd use despair and fear to trick someone into joining him.
Harry had told him it wasn't necessary. Their cause was good. The appeal of fulfilling the wishes of magic itself should be enough.
So why wasn't it for the majority of their kind?
As his mood soured enough for Harry to notice, worry trickling through their mental link, Voldemort decided to revisit the topic of recruiting Weasleys at a later date. At the very least, the girl was not hostile towards Harry or her brothers for switching sides. From taking a dip into Ginevra's mind, he'd assessed she would not turn on them, entirely focused now on letting her aggression out on Dolores Umbridge. It would be relatively risk-free to release her back into the care of her parents.
Parents he would have to exchange another few words with as well, depending on the outcome of William's idea of a personal meeting between the members of the Order. Voldemort could not personally attend this one if they wished to seem genuine. The words of the Weasley sons and Severus would have to do.
He almost missed Black all of a sudden, who'd have done anything to convince the remaining Order members of his righteousness to protect Harry. Alas, according to Greyback, the duo of Black and Lupin had upped and left the werewolf reservation right away to hunt down the Dementor's latest ally. Having two bloodhounds on Umbridge's trail was too useful to intervene with for the sole purpose of repeating William's words for a drop of heightened credibility.
How ironic, to command such a large swath of people and still be dependent on his half-enemies for the important jobs. As luck would have it, they were the ones already used to dirty work. To fighting when most others had turned complacent. Voldemort's newer additions were civilians and employees of the Ministry in various positions, unfit to freely send on gritty missions across the countryside. That left only a handful of useful followers.
Technically, any of those who'd returned to his side yesterday could be sent into danger and were itching to do so. Voldemort might have made use of this new force if they hadn't still been half insane and likely to go off course when removed from his direct guidance. Having them back was both immensely pleasing and a thorn in his side. As Voldemort had predicted, they had forgotten their place in society and what it meant to be presentable, many caught up on a spiral of destructive thoughts. In the wake of the anticipated Dementor attacks, he could not afford to be responsible for unexpected bloodbaths. Not after achieving an alliance with Bones.
A newfound part of himself did not wish to see them hurt so soon again either. Nevertheless, Voldemort couldn't keep watch over his followers constantly. Occupying their hands and minds otherwise would have to do, for he had places to be.
Hogwarts.
The Thestral flight during which he'd gazed at the towers in the far distance with envy and yearning had been his only glimpse of the castle in years – the only real one, though sharing dreams with Harry of sitting at the edge of the Black Lake and bathing in the pools of Slytherin's Chamber had soothed the longing somewhat. At last, he'd get to walk his true home again. Voldemort struggled for a bit to identify the feeling that welled up in his chest until naming it nostalgia.
When breakfast wrapped up, it was the only topic he wished to discuss with his partner in private. To his great annoyance, there were other people who had to be taken care of first.
Harry concerned himself with the other teens, failing to convince Granger to stay for a bit longer instead of returning to Bulgaria (''I've already been away far longer than planned, I can't do that to Viktor. He better hear the situation from me rather than the papers. Besides, I've got a trial to prepare for.'') and shocking Ronald by wishing him well for the Order meeting, which caused confusion on both sides (''What do you mean, I'm obviously attending that? Since when was I part of this plan?'') until the boy gauchely accepted the role as Harry's most trusted.
Voldemort dealt with his own followers during this, ensuring everyone knew their roles and immediate actions to take. The Death Eaters who had stayed out of Azkaban and did not have to keep up appearances for the Ministry were to fill various useful positions across the country to protect homes and form a network for civilians to fall back on, whereas the recent escapees were set to training: their bodies to properly cast magic again after so many years of being denied from doing so and their minds by familiarising themselves with the newest tactics used to spread tolerance of dark magic, under guidance of the Malfoys. Augustus Pye – who'd sat at the very end, quietly listening all this time – was ordered to stay as well as their only competent healer not yet set on another task.
The reactions were mixed. Most of the released Death Eaters were clearly unhappy about not being allowed to jump into battle straightaway, but none had fitting wands or knew how the world had developed in their absence. That their dissatisfaction was not directly voiced may also in part be because of feeling ill, for as convinced as Voldemort was of his followers' loyalty after personally inspecting their minds once Severus had done the initial work, the Dark Lord did not wish to leave anything to chance after being betrayed too many times. He'd thought Rosier to be unwaveringly loyal too. As such, all of their Marks had been changed, deepened. Finally, the spell was perfect: as soon as a single traitorous thought would grow strong enough for them to even wish to act against him, their minds would burn.
''My Lord?'' Barty politely asked. ''What am I to occupy myself with? Joining this meeting in the role of Dumbledore won't be productive as about half of the Order was told of his capture. Should I join as myself? Or travel abroad to unite the Hand of Magic?''
''Neither,'' he muttered. ''Depending on what happens with the Order and what I find at Hogwarts, I may need to call upon you immediately. Stay here and supervise or choose to return home, as long as you stand at the ready to be pulled to my side at any moment.''
Harry joined them again, pleasantly drifting so close that his body heat was palpable. ''Could you actually lend me a hand in the meantime? Madam Bones said I wouldn't be actively persecuted anymore, but I'd like to stroll into Gringotts and am not sure whether that will cause issues even with an invisibility cloak at hand. Someone capable having my back would be great. As you-'' conflicted eyes looked up at Voldemort, ''-are already travelling to Hogwarts with Snape, I'd feel much better if Barty joins me in the exploration of the Potter vault. Just in case we run into troublesome customers at the bank. Or if the vault holds cursed artefacts stowed away nine generations back or such.''
''I presumed you'd come with me,'' the Dark Lord frowned, not quite grasping why his love evidently assumed the opposite. The dejected smile he received in return was an expression he wished to not have laid eyes on. Harry ought to never look this heartbroken.
~I left Hogwarts behind mere months ago, forcing myself to accept giving it up. I made peace with never calling it my home again. Even the O.W.L.s only gave a spark of hope to possibly return in a distant future. With all that's suddenly going on and me needing to go through a criminal trial for another chance at resuming my sixth year, returning for a visit is just too painful. Please understand.~
He did not understand, but also did not need to comprehend it with logic when able to feel the stabbing ache in Harry's heart. The teen's struggle not to break up and head to Hogwarts this instant, to prevent the pain from worsening.
~My love…~
~They're watching,~ Harry reminded, though accepted the hand that cupped his cheek, standing firm instead of flinching.
He did not particularly care about their curious onlookers. Informing his followers of their courtship had been one of his first actions. Other than those fools at the Ostara ball, his and Harry's soldiers present today should respect them both enough not to make the mistake of believing Harry to have been forced into this position. Narcissa and Lucius showing their support as the only present guardians did the rest. He told Harry as much, adding: ~It will be wise not to display too many breaches of decorum until you're of age and we can formalise an engagement, but as long as I don't devour you right in front of them, we needn't be afraid of causing another scandal.~
~You should stop touching me then, else I can't ensure not to devour you,~ Harry darkly promised, a hint of joy touching his smile again.
The hiss that left Voldemort's lips next was a nonsensical thing, which he entirely blamed on his partner's playing with emotions.
Perhaps he should not have done away with all time-turners, for having another few hours sequestered away with his darling would have been more than welcome. Restraining himself, Voldemort chose not to respond to the tempting comment in favour of being productive, turning to a still patiently waiting Barty. ''Protect him with your life,'' he simply ordered.
''Never anything less,'' the man seriously answered, bowing low in respect. Neither of them listened to Harry's muttered protests.
~I will not return soon,~ he warned. ~The wards of Hogwarts are ancient and complex. Accessing them for inspection alone will take up a good portion of a day. I'll likely stay the night in Scotland and return tomorrow evening at best, so take your time on combing the Potter vault for anything that may be of use. Most family vaults hold far more than gold.~
The disappointment was palpable, wafting between their intertwined minds in waves, strengthening as it went back and forth until pulling them under.
~Voldemort.~
The whispered name was a question, a prayer, a need.
Carefully gathered control was no more than dust in the wind as it crumbled at the sound.
''A brief word in private, Evan,'' he demanded, throat far too dry and hoarse all of a sudden. The most transparent excuse he'd perhaps ever used, for what privacy could another location bring that their own personal language did not offer?
The skewed world only righted itself when plump lips brushed against his own, fresher breath flowing through his lungs as he inhaled all of Harry as soon as the door to the nearest room closed.
Voldemort let source magic seep out, well aware of the effect it had on his partner. Pupils dilated, the gasp he elicited when peeling robes away to firmly run both hands across bare skin was no less than ethereal music. All stolen glances and restraint of the past hours were made up for now he could finally take what was his. Thin lips found the tender pulse of Harry's neck, tongue running across the burning vein that lay hidden beneath smooth skin.
His partner was not so patient to contend himself only with the upper halves of their bodies, eager hands wandering down Voldemort's back, pulling him in to slot their hips together, as if it had to be made more obvious what effect they had on each other. In answer, Voldemort shed his own robe and slid a thigh between firm legs to feel the heat of Harry's loins rest directly on his skin.
''I didn't thank you yet for defending me, earlier,'' Harry murmured, half delirious. Or fully, he must be to speak words of gratitude for what could only allude to the curses that had been meant to kill.
''I'd expected a tedious moral reprimanding,'' he candidly admitted, even while kissing his way down his darling's exposed throat and being rewarded with a guttural moan. When the murderous urge had waned, Voldemort had recalled his partner's insistence not to be used as an excuse to murder…
''I- err- yeah-'' Harry mumbled, so very clearly out of it. ''Thought of that too. But-''
Witnessing the struggle to form words was delightful. Voldemort decided to up the challenge, the tips of his nails trailing down a tanned stomach until he could go no further, wrapping his fingers lightly around hard flesh. ''But?'' he whispered, very much enjoying the squirming. To be able to touch wherever he yearned to at last…
''No-one really died. So, I can- hngg – appreciate – hah – the sentiment,'' Harry managed to ground out in between delectable bites to his bottom lip and a desperate bucking of his hips. ''Therefore…''
No vocal words of thanks needed to be spoken when his love slid down the wall he'd been pressed against to, kneeling in front of Voldemort. The intense pleasure of a hot mouth on him was so overwhelming that he reflexively buried fingers in black hair to keep it there, especially when following the impulse to drive in deeper. Miraculously, no choking followed. Harry was learning fast.
His breath stalled when glancing down, zoning in on every detail of the flushed face, from the slightly askew and misty glasses to the strands of saliva dripping down the corners of Harry's mouth with each thrust. Strands that turned milky fast when Voldemort was pushed over the edge.
''This sight-'' he murmured when finding his voice again, the grip of his left hand shifting to Harry's chin ''-is what I'll keep in mind during our nights apart, when I moan your name in the dark.''
His darling did choke, then.
''You're so-'' Harry accused when having drawn back, defiantly glaring upwards.
''In love with you?''
He guided a speechless Harry upwards, back into his embrace where the teen belonged. Their kisses turned sweet rather than frantic as he savoured each moment, sucking his own bitterness from Harry's tongue. Minutes rolled by in which they unhurriedly explored, lips never leaving each other. The change in emotions was as all-encompassing as always when they influenced each other in endless loops, arousal melting away in favour of a rare softness that made his skin prickle with the urge to bathe in it. He could feel his partner succumbing to the same drowsiness.
''We can't stay here forever, can we?'' Harry regretfully asked.
''Not if you wish to save the world again.''
''I thought you were the one saving the world this time.''
''I am to save magic. That only coincides with taking care of the people who wield it. Occasionally…'' he wavered, pausing to gauge if he truly wished to reveal one of his few insecurities. Swallowing, he pushed on: ''Occasionally, I wonder if I'd have been more suited as a Light lord. Theirs is an easier job, achieving balance by slaughtering anyone who dares use heavy magic for a while. One can easily live a fulfilling life using only light spells, so there are enough purely light mages for this to be an effective solution. Solely relying on heavy magic, on the other hand, is impractical. I'd have to detain myself If I were to outlaw light magic.''
Warm fingers smoothed out the wrinkles in his brow. ''Taking the easy road sounds very unlike you. I believe in you, and in Magic knowing well whom to choose to guide us. Had you been chosen as a Light Lord, you'd have directly gone against your given task by chasing immortality through use of Horcruxes.''
Voldemort pressed an absent kiss to Harry's knuckles before summoning his robes from the floor. ''An interesting perspective. Truly, my life would have turned out very bleak,'' he admitted. ''Considering how all is tied together, we may never have met, had I not become a Dark Lord.'' Between his relationship with Harry and the ability to lose himself in bloodlust, Voldemort resolutely and irrevocably chose the former.
There were no regrets to be had.
''Shall we return?'' he asked. It wasn't truly a question, they absolutely should with all that needed to be done still, yet of the two of them, Harry had been the one to not reach completion. The arousal may have ebbed away, but Voldemort did not wish to assume Harry's needs.
''Yeah,'' the teen sighed, bending down to gather his own robes. ''As much as I'd like having your hands on me again, it's a bit awkward to let my friends and family wait much longer when they know very well we didn't leave for polite conversation. When you return from Hogwarts though, I demand a full hour at the very least.''
''It will be arranged.''
Upon making their way back to the main hall of the longhouse, Voldemort saw that all who had no business still being here had indeed cleared out, including Harry's guardians. A very closed-off Severus was standing to the side, glowering at the gaggle of teenagers who were talking amongst each other, only falling in an uneasy silence when noticing their approach. Legilimency was unnecessary to tell Harry had been correct in the assumptions they'd make.
His Right Hand, who'd been locked in quiet conversation with William, shot a worried glance at Harry that was entirely unwarranted.
It was the Ginevra who stepped forward to break the strange air and filled it with normalcy: ''Harry, since you're going to Gringotts, I'd like to come along. Heading over to Wizard Wheezes is my safest bet to keep my alibi straight. I don't want to mess up these plans for the Order meeting by my parents catching onto what I was really up to. Best tell them afterwards, if at all.''
Obviously grasping this opportunity of casual conversation with both hands, Harry replied: ''I don't see why not. Are you really o-''
''Ask me if I'm okay one more time, Harry Potter, and I'll give you a couple of new scars to get famous for.''
While they still sorted out who was joining who – Draco being denied a trip to Diagon as he was also still lowkey wanted and Saeth apparently not wishing to move anywhere, only having stayed behind out of courtesy – Voldemort retrieved his familiar, who'd finally caught up on some well-deserved sleep after staying awake all night.
The weight of Nagini on his shoulders was a comfort. It felt improper to visit Hogwarts without any of those he cared for by his side.
''Severus, we're leaving,'' he informed his Death Eater, who for once appeared more relieved than reluctant to follow on his heel. Briefly reaching out once more through the mental bond he shared with his partner to make up for being unable to give a last proper farewell, Voldemort strode to the apparition spot, focusing on a memory of the first glimpse of beauty he'd ever seen in this world, at eleven years old:
An impressive fortress of stone rising high on the cliff above a dark, rippling lake.
AN: Wow, this was a surprisingly hard one to write! The sole reason for why this chapter took so long was that movie Ginny snuck in and killed the vibe by being frazzled and soft ALL the time, which I only realised after trying to edit with a clear head. Cue an entire rewrite of this chapter so she actually does something more than quietly watching after getting over the initial shock. The reaction to seeing Harry&Voldemort kiss being 'aw yis now I won a bet and can finally buy quidditch gear' is, imo, truer to her book character than whatever cringe shit I had before in the unedited version.
Please read and Review! And if you want to read more, I have plenty of other stories!
Just this month I finished both Smoke&Amber and Call of the Deep, both Harrymort like usual.
xx Gemerope