Sadness encased Harry as he looked at the calendar. He hadn't realised how much time had flown by, and the beginning of term was only three days away.
There was a spark of hope that Voldemort would abide by his word and let him go back to Hogwarts. But he also found himself unbothered by the idea of having to stay. He was pleased here.
He had two loving… what were they to him? The word 'consort' intruded into his mind. But he had two of those, a Bellatrix to shovel his anger into, a Voldemort to mentor him in his studies, and a Tiberius to heir-train and talk to. His sparse run-ins with the other Death Eaters hadn't gone terribly either.
But he missed having friends.
Everyone around him didn't have a social life. They could exchange past stories all they wanted, but their current lives were contained. Voldemort only talked about schemes and gossiped about the allies.
He needed someone who existed in the outside world.
"I have plans for today," Voldemort said as he entered the small dining room.
"We do?" Harry asked, passing a plate to Riddle.
The pair had recently joined them in their occasional dinners together. Safe to say that Harry enjoyed their presence, and it lifted the atmosphere of the room. Harry and Voldemort's conversations just tended to veer into story-telling, but with Tom and Riddle, they bounced back feedback and judgement. It was catty at best. Nonetheless, he enjoyed their presence.
"Yes, we do. You two may come along if you wish." Voldemort gestured to the horcruxes.
"Ooooo, where are we going?" Tom asked, practically jumping up and down.
"Russia. We're school shopping for Harry." Voldemort seated himself and began to pile breakfast on his plate.
"Can we get everything in Russia?" Harry asked.
Riddle poked him and offered him a cut of sausage. Harry let Riddle feed him.
"... yes. We'll be going to an english alley for your supplies. I will cast a spell on you that will temporally let you understand other languages in case we run into anyone. I will not be in my Voldemort glamours either, for obvious reasons." Voldemort said as he watched Harry and Riddle's interaction.
"When are we leaving?" Tom inquired, refilling Harry's glass with a jug of pumpkin juice.
Voldemort watched them. "A bit after breakfast. I need to look through two short documents before we leave. Perhaps, hm, twenty minutes?"
Harry emerged in his dressier clothes, dishevelled hair flying everywhere. Tom tried to brush through it to make it neat. It defied him, fluffing up the moment his hands left his hair.
Tom and Riddle both had Pipskey give them new clothes. Tom had a silk green dress shirt, brown trousers, and a black robe with a flowing cloak behind him. Meanwhile, Riddle merely replaced his blood-stained sweater vest with a not-blood-stained sweater vest.
"I'll have you under some glamour. Just your scar, hair, and eyes." Voldemort pointed a wand in his face.
He could feel his features change. Not as much as before, but well enough to know he was unrecognisable. Some of his hair blew in his face, revealing a dark red colour. Voldemort further glamoured Tom and Riddle, then himself. They all looked similar, their hair chestnut brown instead of black, eyes blue instead of brown and red, and their features softer.
Harry didn't like it.
But he smiled at them nonetheless. Voldemort placed a long baton, decorated with silver and green, on the table.
"This is a portkey to the english Alley, rationally called, The English Alley." Voldemort pointed to the stick.
"Naming isn't that good in the wizarding world, is it?" Harry muttered, grasping the baton.
"No."
When all four of them were handling the baton, Voldemort said something under his breath. The world spun around him, and Harry felt his stomach drop. There was air rushing past them, changing from warm to chilled.
As soon as they landed, Harry tried to fall to his knees. Tom and Riddle wouldn't let him, each having grasped his arm sometime in the travelling. They hoisted him up to his unsteady feet.
"Are you okay, love?" Tom asked, brushing his hair to the side.
"I'm fine, just a bit unstable." Harry stated as he leaned in on Tom.
Voldemort sent them a look but didn't say anything else.
"We will get you new robes and books, then your stationery; visit the apothecary…" Voldemort muttered.
"Let's go!" Harry tugged along Tom and Riddle, not entirely sure where he was going.
Voldemort overtook the group and navigated them through the bustling crowd. The wixen were different than in Diagon, with more subdued colours of robes and shorter capes that only reached their elbows. There was also more than Wixen.
Humanoid creatures littered the alley. Some have delicate dragonfly wings, while others have long spiked tails. He even saw a mermaid with a bubble charm around their entire body, floating along.
It felt… more magical than Diagon. Less chaos, more flow.
"Why is it so different? Is it just cultural?" Harry asked as they passed someone with sunset eyes and fangs.
"Yes and no. There are no laws governing creature limitation in wixen spaces in this jurisdiction. More creatures, more creature influence, more creature magical shedding." Voldemort seemed inspired by his own words.
"Magical shedding?" Harry questioned.
"Magical shedding," Riddle began, "is, well, magical shedding."
"You shed your magical aura like hair. You can't see it, but you can feel it and trace it. That's a magical signature. You leave a light, almost nonexistent trail wherever you walk. When you cast a spell, you leave more of it behind. It's like a magical fingerprint. It's used in Auror investigations." Voldemort glanced down at the list in his hands.
"So someone can trace me no matter what I do?" Harry whispered, slightly terrified.
"No. Your shed fades; the lighter the shed, the faster it fades. You can also remove it with a spell; think of it as a vacuum. Or, like I do, you have an enchanted, runic item that removes your shed wherever you go. It can work on less-intensive spells as well." Voldemort explained evenly.
"You can also use a second-hand wand to distort your signature." Tom pointed out.
Harry took a moment to process the information. "How do I get an enchanted, runic, item that removes my shed?"
Voldemort paused but continued to walk. "I can make one for you. Let's find an item for you. I have mine on a pendant on a necklace that I keep concealed under glamours."
"Oooo, more shopping!" Harry found that he enjoyed spending Voldemort's money.
Voldemort's mouth twitched.
They stopped by a store with a sleek, dark blue-bricked exterior. Inside followed the same cool-blue colour scheme, from the dark curtains to the light walls. The floors and various mirror frames that dotted around were a dark, reddish wood.
A beautiful woman with long, flowing blonde hair and light brown eyes stood at the wooden reception desk. She smiled, teeth white, and hummed.
"Hello, my name is Lada, how may I help you today?"" Her voice was soft, like summer rain.
"Seven new robes for him," Voldemort answered curtly. "School, I have the style-cut list, two dress robes, and at least two weeks of casual clothes as well."
Harry was about to object, but figured that he might actually need it. Being in the manor gave him a finer taste than he would normally prefer. Not something fancy, but enough not to make him look like a trainwreck.
"Yes, all is well," She took the list Voldemort handed her: "These are Hogwarts' cut, correct? We don't get many here, but I am familiar with them."
Voldemort's jaw clenched. "Yes."
"Let's get you up on the podium," Lada gestured to Harry, then a circular platform in an adjacent room.
Harry hopped on the platform, and a floating measuring tape wrapped around him. A floating paper, notably not parchment, and pen wrote down the numbers. On the side, Lada flipped through a booklet of colour swatches.
"Would you mind removing your glamours? I can close off the windows and doors. Everything here is confidential." She looked up from her book, flicking her wand from a leather holster. The curtains drew closed, as did the sliding door to the room.
Voldemort huffed, then looked at Harry. Harry nodded.
He felt a wash go over him as Voldemort removed his glamours.
There was no recognition in her eyes as she stared at him. She positioned herself in front of him and began to pull out different swatch cards. There was an array of greens, some blues, lots of browns and blacks, and a few reds.
"Hm, how much personal input would you like on the colour selection?" She clapped the book closed.
"Erm, I know nothing about colours. I'm partial to reds, but if you think better, than that's fine." It really wasn't that fine, but he didn't want to discredit an expert.
"Hm, I can work with reds. I can throw in some greens and maybe a blue or two. Complimentary browns and blacks, maybe some creams? Yes, yes." She was lost in thought.
He looked at Voldemort with a smirk on his face.
"Can I get robes for Ignis?" Harry's tone wasn't one of inquiry, but of informing Voldemort that he would be obtaining them.
"We want another set of semi-formal robes." Voldemort said.
"I want them as white or light as fashionably possible." Harry smiled.
"That is doable. It takes more time to coordinate, so we will do that first."
She had Harry try a variety of robes, vests, button-ups, and other various outfits. When they settled on a nice combination, they worked on the colours. After a bit of back-and-forth, he ended up with a white robe and hood with a long, billowing cape. His undershirt was grey, and his vest was red. They also fit white pants and off-white, dragon-skinned boots.
His casual clothes were darker, with a bias toward reds and browns. She said something about "bringing out the green" in his eyes, and he had to agree. His dress robes went slowly, with her, Voldemort, Tom, and Riddle constantly readjusting the tiny details Harry didn't think mattered; he got a black and red set and a green and cream set.
"2,561 d'aires," She said.
Voldemort passed her a stack of different coloured bills with shiny, reflected leaves on them. She counted them carefully, smiled, and then handed him the bag.
"If any of the extra enchantments fail within two months, you can get a replacement set for free." She hummed, waving them off.
The bookshop was impressive. While Florish and Blotts was one story, this one was three. Harry, Tom, and Riddle swept through the floors to find his schoolbooks while Voldemort shopped for his extracurricular books.
"Woo!" Harry whisper-yelled as Tom pushed him on a rolling ladder.
Voldemort bought two more bags full of books.
"Hm, let's get your stationery." Voldemort paused. "You already have some, but let's buy extra."
Surprisingly, there was an array of different stationery. Notebooks, pens, binders—so much muggle stationery! Some catered to creatures, such as writing tools with adjustable grips. water-proof paper, and oddly shaped twistable caps.
He got more black ink, parchment, paper (damned be his professors, he was writing his notes in a notebook this semester. With a pencil as well), and different colours quills. All were water-proof and fire-proof as well.
Harry wasn't going to have his assignments sabotaged this year.
"What if I run out?" Harry asked, handing his bag to Voldemort.
"Then you owl Narcissa with a snake in the bottom right corner of your letter. She knows to give those to me." He hissed.
"Then I just ask for more paper?"
"Yes. Do not hesitate to ask me for anything."
Tom spotted something and wandered off. Voldemort sighed and redirected them away from the apothecary and to the other shop.
Animals filled the huge, double-story limestone shop. Birds, dogs, cats, magical animals, and many more littered the floor. Tom disappeared behind a shelf of rodents. Voldemort growled in irritation.
"Divide and conquer. Find him." Riddle joked, taking to the left aisle.
"Can't they just behave for one day?" Voldemort huffed, taking the right aisle.
Harry hummed to himself as he walked down the middle aisle.
He meandered through the maze of animals, passing everything from mice to birds that looked like they were made from slime.
He thumbed through the cages, scratching the fur and feathers of any animal that would let him stick his fingers through it. There was a blue cat that enjoyed his petting, and he was tempted to take her out of the cage.
Unsurprisingly, Tom was with the snakes. The surprise was him and Riddle pressing their hands against the aquarium like children. Harry knelt next to them.
"Look at her!" Tom exclaimed, gripping Harry by the back of his head and shoving him towards the glass.
The snake inside was completely black. Its scales were glistening, and it looked like it was dripping oil; it shone a rainbow colour. There were little fins on its side, and the end of its tail was like a goldfish. Harry looked at the sign posted on the front.
Species: Oil Sea-Serpent
Sex: Female, able to change to Male
Size: Small
Temperament: Shy, prone to biting
Venomous: Yes
Ideal environment: Saltwater tank at least three times the full length of the serpent, plant with oceanic flora. Needs an above-water resting place.
Diet: insects, fish, and small amphibians
Harry peeked at the snake again. She yawned, her mouth entirely black with a mouthful of needle-sharp teeth. It was cute. She wiggled around, hopping to the moss patch on the surface.
"She's adorable." Riddle cooed.
"She is." Harry agreed, placing his hand on the glass.
She was so pretty. Harry had never desired any animal more. Even if it was a snake.
"Hello, little one," Harry called to the snake.
She stopped her movement and looked at him.
"You speak to me, but there is no snake in your bloodline." Her voice was sharp but low.
"Parseltongue, from wixen," Riddle answered her.
"I haven't heard many wixen parseltongues in this part of the world." She curled up into a ball, her tail swirling circles in the water.
"How pretty you are." Tom stroked the glass.
She shimmied. "Why thank you. You're so kind."
They all let out a giggle.
They felt someone looming over them. Turning around, they saw Voldemort standing there with his arms crossed. Harry had the urge to hang his head like a child caught stealing, but he maintained his dignity.
"What are you doing?" Voldemort sighed.
Harry smiled. "Look at the snake!"
Voldemort looked both ways before kneeling next to Harry.
"That is indeed a snake. Let's go."
"But you didn't even look at her!" Tom complained, still pressed against the glass.
Voldemort sighed and leaned in closer. His head tilted, and he hummed to himself.
"It is a snake." He stated.
"A pretty one," Riddle said.
"Can we get it?" Tom asked.
"Good idea."
"Hm." Voldemort muttered.
All three puppy-dog faces turned to him. Harry tried his best to look as cute as possible. He wanted the snake; Tom did, Riddle did; so Voldemort was the only one who needed to be convinced.
Voldemort sighed.
"Fine." He broke under the pressure.
"Yay!" The three cheered.
Tom leaned closer to the tank. "We're taking you home, serpent."
Voldemort twitched.
"I would like to go home with speakers." She yawned, dipping back into the water.
"Stay here; I'll get an employee." Before any of them could say anything, Tom was dashing off into the aisles.
Harry smiled.
"How long can you be out of water?" Harry was concerned about hauling around a shrunken tank into the stores.
"As long as I am damp, I can live on land. Some of my species live in mud, and others can survive in highly humid environments." Her voice was a little muffled underwater, though still clear.
Tom was wearing the serpent (they couldn't agree on a name yet) around his neck and the bags of supplies on his arms. He happily hopped along, chatting aimlessly with her. Harry and Riddle grinned at Tom's excitement.
The apothecary was a rather short visit. Voldemort was already irritated and held them on a tight leash as they gathered his needed supplies. They were in and out in less than five minutes, hardly enough time for Harry to get distracted by the ingredients.
"We need your item to enchant." Voldemort guided them towards a shop.
"Is there anything specific for me to look for?" Harry swung his arms, with Riddle and Tom holding one hand each.
"Perhaps not something too small. That's easier to lose and a little harder to put the runes on. Nothing I can't work around, though." A bell chimed as they entered the store.
All sorts of accessories were hung on the walls in wooden boxes with glass windows. Voldemort let them loose in the shop to find whatever they wanted. The three slowly toured everything, having Harry try on some of them.
They ruled out anything cloth or head accessories (though Harry thought he looked amazing in a laurel; Tom and Riddle agreed). Harry gravitated toward necklaces and bracelets but found most of them too flashy for him.
A charm bracelet was close, but Harry found he could not deal with it getting caught on everything.
Just as he was about to settle on an emerald necklace of a cat, Harry found it. It was a simple jade bangle bracelet. There wasn't anything specific about it that stood out to him, but maybe that was why he wanted it.
"Do you think this would be good?" Voldemort, who was following them, was questioned by Harry.
"Hm, yes. I can place the runes on the inside so others will not see them." Voldemort peered into the glass.
Harry considered it for a moment.
"Maybe not the best idea for it to be visible." They'd question where he got it from. "But Ignis could."
Voldemort nodded.
"Gifting jewelry is part of the courting process, so it would make the story sound believable." Voldemort waved down an employee.
"You really want them to believe it?" Harry furrowed his brow.
"If we're going to lie, make it believable." Voldemort rolled his eyes.
Another bag was added to Voldemort's collection on his arms, and they left the store.
"Is there anything else you need?" Voldemort glared at the list in his hands.
"I wouldn't know; I never got my letter." Harry shrugged.
"Anything non-school related?" Voldemort rephrased his question.
"No, don't think so."
Voldemort lost some of his tension. "Good. Grab the batton."
After arriving at the manor, Tom and Riddle carried his things back to their room. Voldemort rejected the mere notion of following them back. They all found it comedic, if not a little embarrassing.
"You two do whatever. I'm playing with the snake." Tom practically ran to the corner of the room and began to set up the serpent's aquarium.
Riddle pulled him close. "Mhh, I finally get you all to myself, angel."
He was thrown to the bed, and Riddle encircled him, pulling him into his chest and petting him. His other hand travelled down his side and grasped his hip, rubbing slow circles into him.
Harry hummed, sinking deeper into his embrace.
He could see himself again. He was laying down next to himself, glaring at Dream-Harry. But he wasn't aware; he was sleeping with a furrowed brow. The sheets underneath him were irritating, the air was a touch too cold, and the burning lantern in the middle of the room shined a notch too bright.
His head reached out, touching Dream-Harry on the cheek. Dream-Harry sighed, leaning into his hand. There was a little thrum of power in his veins. He stroked him for a while before boredom began to creep in.
Harry's hand moved down. It coasted along his shoulders, down his arms, and settled on his waist. More power. But it wasn't enough for him.
Dream-Harry began to move. He drew back, ready to flee at any second. Dream-Harry wiggled closer to him and butted his head against Harry's chest. He hesitantly placed his hand back on his waist.
He could feel the power just past his fingertips. He adjusted himself, carefully moving his other arm under the pillow. With reluctance, he pulled Dream-Harry closer.
Dream-Harry nuzzled his chest; one of his arms was thrown over Harry's waist. A pleasurable wave of power overtook him, strong and intoxicating. He lowered his gaze to Dream-Harry. His face rested peacefully.
Harry curled up around Dream-Harry, finally giving in to the pleasant feeling.
The golden mask was placed over Harry's face. Voldemort withdrew, inspecting his cloak. He slashed his wand at any stray dust or fibre that was out of place.
"Do you want me to do a little twirl too?" Harry joked, kicking his foot out.
"Yes."
Harry spun slowly, taken aback.
"Perfect. Now give me your non-wand arm." Voldemort held his hand expectantly.
Harry hesitantly placed his hand in Voldemort's. Voldemort withdrew the jade bangle from his pocket and enlarged it. He slipped it on Harry's wrist and shrank it to size. Harry raised his hand, still unused to its weight of it.
"Hm, would you like it feather-light?" Voldemort snatched his hand once more.
"Yes, please."
They walked down to the ballroom, seeing rows of tables. Another full meeting. Or, mostly complete? Harry saw a lot more people at the celebration party than he normally saw in meetings. The memory stirred a question.
"What does 'Middle Circle, Second Degree' mean?" He asked as he sat down on the right-hand seat.
"Hm. Each circle has three degrees, or three ranks, with the first being the highest. The members of the inner, middle, and outer circles are all assigned a degree. You see the first degree of each circle in these meetings. The first circle takes instruction from me, the second from the first, and the third from the second."
Harry sat on that information while the people trickled in. So that wasn't all the Death Eaters; that was just some of them. No doubt the second and third degrees were larger than the first.
But it also explained why the Death Eaters fell after he sort-of-not-really killed Voldemort. All the instructions came from the top. They were all hanging from the thread that was Voldemort.
"So that's why everything went to shit when you left." Harry said after a few minutes. Barty flinched, his eyes wide with alarm.
"Perhaps it's not an ideal structure, but it works. Problems would arise if the Minister of Magic died." Voldemort hissed back.
Harry looked at Barty, who was trying his best to stare straight ahead. "I assume they can hear me?"
"I thought you would have a looser tongue. Do try to speak in parseltongue." Voldemort replied.
Even more concerned faces stared at them. Harry didn't blame them; if he associated parseltongue with evil and torture, he'd be scared too. However, speaking in parseltongue did initially frighten him because he didn't realize he was hearing another language.
Voldemort tilted his head. Harry could feel the air turn tense. He wanted to roll his eyes, but he knew that they had good reason to be so tense. Voldemort might have been nice to him, but he knew the kindness didn't extend to other people.
Voldemort watched as the last member sat down.
"Everyone is here, my Lord." Barty bowed his head as he spoke.
"Severus," Voldemort started, "report on the Order."
"Yes, my Lord. The Order has exhausted most of its resources trying to find Potter. Albus is completely occupied trying to clear his name, and it is not working. The Aurors, both Death Eater and not, are getting close to following an Order member back to headquarters. As far as I'm aware, they are no closer to finding Potter. They have also not made any moves in Wizengamont."
Harry felt a sense of satisfaction in his veins.
"Good," Voldemort said, to many side-eyes. "Tiberius, what is the best way to use this opportunity?"
Tiberius' brow furrowed. "We can make a move against the Order in a raid on Nymphodora Tonks. Based upon reports, she has weekly dinners with Alastor Moody and Dedalus Diggle. We will attack. Alastor Moody is to go first; he has had a recent altercation with us and has been injured. I recommend having a team of at least twenty, with four proficient dullers."
"If possible, an Auror should attack Alastor to catch him off guard. Another way would be to hold Nymphodora hostage and attack while he is distracted, as he has a close bond with her. She is easy to catch compared to most Aurors." Tiberius ended after a long breath.
"My Lord!" Bellatrix interrupted. "May I be the one to kill Nymphodora? She is a stain on the family."
Voldemort turned to him. "What do you think of Nymphodora Tonks?"
"She's nice," Harry thought for a moment. She has the potential to do good, but she's so clumsy and hard-headed."
Was Voldemort asking him to decide if she would die?
"I think she has potential in research. I mean, she is a metamorphmagus. Analyzing her genes and such."
If he couldn't appeal to her personality, he could appeal to her use.
"No, you may not. The metamorphmagus is to be studied." Voldemort issued the final verdict.
The room grew stiller. He could feel most of their eyes on him.
From the other side of the table, Bellatrix glared at him. Harry brushed away a stray piece of hair, displaying his jade bangle. Her eyes grew wide, and her face went dark.
That's right, there's a shield between you and me. And his name is Voldemort.
"Lucius, what's the best way to use this in Wizengamont?"
Lucius cowered under Voldemort's gaze. "Well, uh, I would recommend, if possible, proposing the more controversial bills. They are less likely to read them or to show up if they are scrambling as much as Severus said. A creature or dark magic bill is what I would suggest."
Harry wanted to laugh. Lucius sounded like a quaking dog.
It filled him with joy.
"We will abide by both plans. Lucius, I expect you to have plans ready to distribute by this weekend. Tiberius, make the final adjustments to the plan by tomorrow. We will attack at mealtime." Voldemort glared at them.
Tiberius and Lucius nodded.
He tuned out most of the rest of the meeting. But each time he heard another person report on the Order or someone he knew, a whirlwind of emotions flashed through him.
Where did he lie?
He didn't want to side with the Order. They abandoned him, kept him away from everything, and dictated his every moment without his knowledge. He didn't want them to die, but he didn't want them to succeed either.
He'd have to die for them to win.
He didn't want to be associated with the Dark. They tortured people for Godric's sake! How many people had died because of them? They demeaned people of his blood status.
But they wanted him to live.
Harry bit his lip. Could he allow himself to be selfish at this moment? Why throw away the fate of his world so that he could survive? Die for the chance of overthrowing the Dark? The Dark, who had the upper hand.
Would his death even matter?
He couldn't say.
Harry: (having them feed him)
Voldemort: -_-
Harry: Heck yeah new robes
Voldemort's wallet: (crying)
Tom: Plz
Riddle: Plz
Harry: Plz
Voldemort: Fine
Bellatrix: Can I murder
Voldemort:
Harry: no
Voldemort: no
Voldemort: courting bracelet
Harry: heck yeah
Harry: (is in a crisis)
The Death Eating meeting: Okay so we attack here
