My Past Will Always Catch Up
Allansha Ke Kiri
Chapter 6
"My lord wants you to wear this."
Nott shoved a box at Raven, forcing him to take it, or let it fall to the ground. Even he wasn't that impolite. He took it.
Thankfully, Nott had finally stopped calling Voldemort 'our' lord. It had taken Raven sitting him down and informing him that Raven had no lord. Was, in fact, his own person. It had also taken a threat of bodily harm, which Raven didn't regret.
He opened the box. Fabric, a shade of green darker than emerald, sat in the box. Dress robes. They were folded in such a way as to allow him to see the gold and silver trim.
Gryffindor and Slytherin? He wondered.
The cloth appeared to be fine quality, and would likely look fine, but he wondered at its size. He'd never been fitted for dress robes before, and no one had come recently either, which made them guesswork.
This is going to be a disaster.
"They're dress robes," Nott said, taking his silence for confusion. "Lord Voldemort has planned a party to celebrate your return."
"What kind of party?"
"Formal, given the robes," Nott sneered, shoving his way past Raven.
He sighed. Nott had been an arse the last two days, ever since Raven sliced him open. But, he hadn't tried it again. He'd put up with the attitude before anything else Nott wanted.
"I'm not sure I'll go," Raven called after him. "I still haven't gotten any proof."
"You'll get it tonight!"
He's still angry. Good.
Raven had kept busier than normal, doing things so disgustingly muggle, most purebloods would have abandoned him ages ago. Not Nott.
He shifted the box, feeling the fabric, soft and sleek under his fingers. What proof could Voldemort have? It wasn't as though he could show Raven the truth, not if he actually wanted to sell Raven as a Death Eater.
"What time is it?" Raven called, knowing Nott had already closed his door.
Not stormed back, causing a vindictive surge of satisfaction to rise in him. Raven just stared at him.
"It's impolite to shout across a house," he snapped.
Raven arched an eyebrow. "It's my home," he said, "and you are an unwelcome guest forced upon me. What time is the party?"
"We leave at 7."
If Voldemort wanted them to be friends, he would be disappointed. As Nott stormed back to his room, Raven wondered who would be assigned as 'Harry's best friend.'
He doubted anyone would be able to pull it off. There was too much bad blood between them. Too much anger and hate. Malfoy had been polite, but not overly friendly.
He sighed, carrying the box to his room. As nice as it looked, he didn't appreciate being told what to wear. The box was dropped on his bed, attention going to his wardrobe. He could wear something else. It would piss off every pureblood in attendance, but it would also tell them he wouldn't be controlled.
Don't make waves, he told himself. Don't draw attention to yourself. You have a plan. Don't deviate.
He never had been good at making plans.
When he left his room, over an hour later, the dress robes were a little big on him. They were usable, and not uncomfortable, but he was no longer used to robes.
Nott appreciated it, if the lust in his gaze was anything to go by. He had his knife tucked somewhere safe, but with their time constraint, he didn't think Nott would try anything.
Didn't think he'd try anything last time, either.
Not held out his arm. Raven arched an eyebrow.
"You want me to touch you?"
"We're apparating," Nott growled. "It's the only way to get there in time."
Lucius had apparated them out last time, so he couldn't pretend to not know what it was. Still, he didn't want Nott to think he wanted to touch him. So, he drew closer, touching the tips of his fingers to Nott's arm. The man growled, jerking him into a more secure hold before apparating away.
He wanted to, but he didn't struggle. It wasn't worth the possible splinching. Right now, Nott wouldn't try too hard to keep that from happening, and Raven didn't relish losing an arm, Not when he had to meet Voldemort.
He kept his balance upon landing only by leaning against Nott. The man shivered under the touch, despite his anger. Raven touched people so rarely, it always affected his more avid fans. Nott's grip tightened, but Raven pulled away, refusing to be in contact longer than necessary.
"Mr. Potter. Welcome."
The name didn't register immediately, though he turned to the voice regardless. Raven nodded at the elder Malfoy, dressed in his usual black and silver, though of far better quality than his normal attire.
"Nott, you're wanted in the meeting room," Malfoy said, voice cooling. "Immediately."
"Of course."
Raven didn't watch him go. Malfoy glanced between Raven and the departing figure.
"I hope he wasn't too unbearable," he said. "Nott never did like you much. Too much power."
Raven laughed, the sound short and unamused. "I'm sure he'd have been very pleasant, had I been willing to accommodate him properly."
Malfoy arched an eyebrow, but Raven didn't feel the need to elaborate. What did it really matter if Nott wanted to fuck him?
"Harr- Mr. Potter." The man hesitated.
Raven stared at him in muffled amazement. He'd actually sounded like he'd wanted to call him by his name. As though it were something he'd done regularly in the past.
Has he been chosen as my 'friend'? That would make things interest. What will it take to break him?
"Yes, Mr. Malfoy?"
Harry Potter was dead. Had been for years. Unfortunately, he would have to be resurrected. For a while anyway.
"Nothing, Mr. Potter. You were missed is all."
Raven blinked. He sounded serious. Malfoy was a master manipulator, but he had to admit himself impressed. What did someone say to that?
"I see your robes are loose."
"Are they?"
"I suppose you've lost weight," Malfoy said, withdrawing his wand. "These were made based on previous measurements."
You never had my measurements. He didn't say anything, standing still as Malfoy flicked his wand. Raven's robes resized, forming about his torso. He made small adjustments, testing the fit. Surprisingly, Malfoy had a good eye. It wasn't tight, and was still comfortable to move in.
"Interesting," he murmured. "Shall we?"
He turned to go, eager to get this over with, interested in what Voldemort would produce. Malfoy stopped him. A hand on his arm managed to take his attention without triggering his need for space.
Raven pulled away, not wanting anyone to get too close. No one should just touch him. Malfoy let him, but his gaze held a question.
"Yes, Mr. Malfoy?"
"Why did you choose to work there?"
Raven arched an eyebrow. Of all the questions available, he hadn't expected that. Almost five years ago, it had been the only job he could get. With little muggle documentation, and no muggle education - his options had been limited. He hadn't planned on staying this long, but he'd grown to enjoy it.
Raven smirked at Malfoy, feeling a change come over him.
"You were there," Raven said, amusement coloring his voice as he pitched it low and seductive. His work voice. Malfoy shifted under the gaze, causing his smirk to widen.
"I have power over them, I own them, and they know it," Raven purred. "They can't do anything about it. What's more, they don't want to."
Raven stepped closer, putting a bare inch between them as he gazed up. Malfoy blinked down at him, shifting again, his discomfort becoming obvious. But discomfort of what?
"They will do anything I want them to, if only I would deign to … touch … them."
Raven reached up, running fingers over Malfoy's clothed arm
"I would appreciate it, Mr. Potter, if you would step back."
"Is that really what you want?" Raven asked, wondering how far he could push the man. Malfoy was an opportunist. If he could forge an alliance, he would do so.
"Surely, you're … curious." He slid his hands up Malfoy's chest, a slow deliberate glide, feeling the wizard's trim form.
Malfoy took hold of his wrists, physically pushing Raven away. He blinked. That never happened.
"Truthfully, it disturbs me to see you like this," Malfoy said. "The Harry I know would never stoop to manipulations like this. I thought I taught you better."
"Taught me better?" Raven asked, eyes narrowing as he pulled himself from Malfoy's grip. "What exactly did you teach me?"
"I taught you how to be a proper wizard," Malfoy said. "I taught you how to earn, and keep, someone's respect. I taught you everything you'd need to know to hold your title."
Title? What title?
"Everything your father should have done, were he still alive. It is horrifying to see someone I saw as a son lowering himself so much as what I witnessed in that building."
"There is nothing wrong with what I do," Raven said, for now ignoring the 'son' comment for the more important issue. "I am not ashamed of what it, and that you can't 'approve' of a career that promotes sexual appreciation tells me everything I need to know about you, Mr. Malfoy."
Raven turned away. He could find his own way. Or get lost. Either way would remove him from Malfoy's antiquated ideals.
"They're muggles."
Raven paused, blinking. "Muggles?"
That's the problem?
"People without magic," Malfoy said. "Beneath ou, and would sooner try to kill you if they ever knew what you are." Malfoy circled him, staring down at him with what looked like real concern.
"You are so much better than them, Harry."
He is good, Raven thought.
"If you want to … dance, so be it." Despite the hidden grimace, Malfoy appeared to mean it. "But, do it with us. Where you're safer. Where your patrons will be better than common animals panting after you like a bitch in heat."
The language threw him. Lucius Malfoy didn't cuss. It always seemed beneath the man. It was convincing. Raven found himself half convinced, and he knew the man was talking out his ass. He stared at Malfoy.
"Are you alright, Mr. Potter?"
"Yes. Shall we go now?"
Malfoy nodded. He led the way from the apparition point, through the gorgeous halls and generations of history.
I suppose every Malfoy knows everything about their ancestors.
A spark of jealousy, quickly smothered. What did it matter what they knew if they couldn't show common decency to others?
"You're proud of your lineage."
Malfoy nodded once. "We've much to be proud of. As do the Potters, your own family line."
"Do they?"
"Of course. Both your parents were accomplished wizards. Your mother especially was gifted in charms application. Your father was a talented quidditch player in his youth, a skill you inherited much to Draco's dismay."
"Draco?" Raven asked, knowing it was expected of him.
Did Malfoy just compliment a muggleborn?
"My son, and a school rival of yours."
"I see."
Truth and lies peppered together in a disturbing, if convincing version of reality. Rivalries were more believable than a fantasy where everyone welcomed and adored him. No one liked everyone. No one was liked by everyone.
Was this Malfoy's decision, or had Voldemort regrown his brain in the last five years?
"I suppose we grew out of it later."
Malfoy chuckled. "Not exactly, although your rivalry took a healthier form as you grew up and joined the same side. By the time you disappeared, we didn't worry about you killing each other."
The man paused before a set of double doors, which opened on their own. The ballroom was huge, packed with people who's quiet chatter didn't drown out the music drifting over the crowd. Orchestral. Maybe. He couldn't see the source, and he wasn't well enough versed in musical instruments to be convinced of his decision. It was nice, in an unimposing way. It would never fit the club.
Several people near the door glanced over, staring as Raven and Malfoy entered. A few of the faces were recognizable, though most were nameless. Random Death Eaters he'd seen in the Department of Mysteries, or in a fight. More were unknown to him. How many of them were going to pretend they were 'great fans', 'love your work', 'Always knew you'd come back, Mr. Potter'.
Nothing had really changed. Just the faces. Just who was in charge, and who was trying to curry favor from him.
"Lord Voldemort organized this to celebrate your return," Lucius said, leading him inside.
I'm sure he did.
"There's a lot of people."
"Some you knew. Some you didn't. Everyone wants to reassure themselves of your return."
"What makes me so special?" Raven asked, playing his part, wondering what Malfoy would say.
"There he is!" A familiar voice screeched over the crowd.
"I killed Sirius Black!"
Raven turned, seeing a familiar woman shove her way through the crowd, a wide grin on her lips. A manic gleam in her eyes. Raven tensed. She was going to kill him. He didn't have his wand. Voldemort might punish her later - maybe - but it wouldn't matter, because he would be dead. She was-
-going to choke him with her hair.
Raven coughed, attempting to avoid the strands dedicated to finding his windpipe as Bellatrix Lestrange squeezed him.
"Harry!" she cooed, rocking to each side, forcing Raven to move with her, or break something. "My little Harry."
Raven attempted to break her hold, his discomfort rising. This woman always meant him harm. Her grip tightened.
"Oh, my little Harry," she continued. "I've missed you. Was worried, I was. How was my ickle Harry? Where had he gone? Was he okay? I wondered, and here you are!"
"Bellatrix, release him," Malfoy sighed. "It won't do you any good to suffocate him."
Though she hesitated, Bellatrix did release him to glare at Malfoy with a pout. The effect was odd, though fitting the insane woman, and Raven wanted distance between him and her.
Unfortunately, attempting to pull further away drew her attention back to him. She tsked softly, hands straightening his robes, dragging him back each time he put more than a few inches between them.
"Look how you've grown up," she exclaimed, loudly, as she worked. "All grown up! Where did my scrawny little boy go?"
When her hands moved to his hair, Ravne took the opportunity to put some space between them. Her expression fell. He wasn't going to let anyone touch him unnecessarily. Everything about this woman was unnecessary.
"He doesn't remember you," Rodolphus said as he approached. He gave Raven a nod, but didn't invade his space like others had. Grateful, Raven nodded back, but he continued to eye Bellatrix warily.
"It's not fair!" Bellatrix pouted. Raven almost expected her to stomp her foot. Tantrums weren't unheard of at the orphanage, and eight year old Christine was infamous for her stomping foot.
Bellatrix didn't, which proved she had a little more maturity than a child. How much remained to be seen. Raven suspected he'd learn sooner, rather than later.
"You and Bellatrix were close," Lucius said, drawing closer.
Who could be close with that?
"Of course we were close," Bellatrix said. "I'm his mummy."
Raven's shock allowed her to envelope him in another hug.
Good lord, are they all crazy?
For once, the contact was a good thing. Raven's expression cracked as horror flooded him. Her hair hid it from view, otherwise, everyone would know how he felt that that particular lie.
A lie Nott already revealed. Raven squirmed out of her grip, the only way to force her to release him.
"I thought my parents were dead."
Bellatrix waved the statement away. "They are," she agreed, taking his face between her hands and cooing at him. "But my ickle baby Harry needed a mummy, and those nasty blood traitors wouldn't give you one."
Raven bit his tongue to keep himself from saying anything, and once again tried to extract himself from her grip. Unsuccessfully.
"So, I'm your mummy."
Then, she released him, her hands going to his hair once more. This time, he wasn't able to pull away.
"I took good care of you," Bellatrix continued, almost wistful in her supposed remembrance. "I fed you, and watered you, and clothed you. I made your hair neat and tidy. You were my pretty little baby."
I sound more like a bloody doll.
"And now you've come back home!"
And she chokes me again, he thought as she enveloped him in the third hug in five minutes. THe more he squirmed, the tighter she held on.
"Bellatrix, perhaps you should give him some space."
Raven never thought he'd bless Lucius Malfoy, but the man was quickly becoming his favorite Death Eater. He didn't seek unnecessary touching, and he was stepping in to get the crazy woman away.
Unfortunately, she didn't release him.
"Bellatrix, you're choking him."
Rodolphus is alright too, raven decided as Bellatrix finally pulled away with a wrinkled nose.
"That's not my job," she said, which made no sense.
Does anything she say?
"I do enjoy breathing," Raven told her, putting a little distance between them. Maybe, if he was verbally supportive, she'd keep her hands to herself.
"Everybody was," Bellatrix said. "But sometimes, you just want to stop, and that's okay too. Just remember, you have to trust him first."
Raven blinked. Did she just …
His renewed shock was enough to let her brush her thumb over his scar.
"Bellatrix!" Malfoy hissed, sounding scandalized. "This is not the place for that."
Bellatrix tsked again. "You're always so uptight, Lucius. You're going to make him think he's not wanted."
Oh, no worries about that. The amount of effort everyone had gone to guaranteed that. It wasn't their fault he didn't want to be near any of them.
Well, actually, it is, but they don't know I know.
"I merely said-"
"You call me Bella," she interrupted. "Mummy Bella if you wanted something." She winked.
Raven blinked. Is this my life right now?
"This is my husband, Rodolphus." She waved back at the man. "You'll remember him soon."
"Harry."
"It's Raven."
"Right."
Bellatrix waved Raven's arm. "Be nice. You'll always be our Harry, dear. Our little boy."
The woman teared up as she gazed at him. Raven debated inching away. There was another hug in her look. And teras. How did anyone deal with a teary female. Bellatrix would be worse. She had to be. If she even could cry. Raven didn't think she was actually capable of it.
Thankfully, she didn't get any worse. She did take his arm, dragging him close to her side and pulling him deeper into the ballroom. Once again, attempts to extract himself were unsuccessful. She was very strong.
"I don't like to be touched," he tried.
"Nonsense." She patted his arm. "You're back where you belong, and you have nothing to worry about from us."
This woman is crazy. Absolutely insane.
Raven was dragged before Death Eaters, and Death Eater supporters. Some, he recognized. Most he didn't. Five years had been good to Voldemort, it seemed. Just from listening to everyone, the dark lord now ruled Magical Britain, and everything was on the rise.
What about the muggleborns? The question was never vocalized. He wasn't even supposed to know the word, let alone Voldemort's stance on anything.
An hour in, he was just tired. Everyone was talking at him. Touching him. Calling him "so good to see you again, Harry." "We missed you, Harry." "I knew you'd come back, Harry."
Harry was dead. He died five years ago with the corpses of his soul. Harry was buried away, never to return, and yet he couldn't even summon up a proper anger. It was too much effort.
Finally, someone distracted Bellatrix enough for him to vanish into the crowd. The press of people staring at him never eased, but he was used to eyes. It happened every time he performed. Without Bellatrix, dragging him to people, no one tried to talk to him. No one tried to touch him.
Mostly.
As he was getting a drink on the other side of the ballroom from Bellatrix, another vaguely familiar voice stopped him.
"Harry Potter."
He sighed, turning to face the speaker. She was as familiar as her voice. Vaguely. She smiled at him. Raven wouldn't have recognized her but for the man with her. Draco Malfoy hadn't changed much in five years, but he did take after his mother. Physically.
Narcissa Malfoy left her son, holding out her hands to Raven, palms down in an obvious request.
At least she asked, he decided, setting his drink down to take them in hand.
"Though I hear you go by Raven now."
He nodded.
"Interesting," she said, voice soft in the crowded room. Delicate. Gentle. Something that requested confidence, and promised it in return. "I would never have thought of naming you after an animal."
Raven blinked. "Annalyss thought my hair looked like a raven's wing in the midst of windstorm," he told her. "It was a temporary name."
"Until your memory returned."
It wasn't a question. He nodded.
"I'm Narcissa Malfoy. You've met my husband."
"Lucius."
"Yes." She smiled, then released Raven's hands to reach for her son, who obliged. "This is my son, Draco."
"Dragon?" Raven asked, distantly enjoying the way the blond's ears pinked.
"The constellation," Narcissa said, "As you've been told before."
The tone of her voice suggested she'd had to tell someone before. Multiple times. Likely someone she cared for to get that level of fond exasperation right.
"Right," Raven murmured. She gripped his hand, the touch, surprisingly, not confining.
"I never thought I'd get my boys together again," she said.
"You're boys?" Raven asked, before he could stop himself. Was Narcissa hoping to put herself in as a Mother figure? How would that work?
Narcissa smiled. "You were closer with Bellatrix," she said, "but you were one of my boys. Even if you and Draco were always fighting."
Draco shrugged. "I can't help it if he was always wrong."
Raven scoffed. "Right," he said, staring at the tall blond.
He didn't need to say anything else. Draco bristled, eyes narrowing at him in burgeoning anger.
"Boys," Narcissa's voice was still gentle, but gained a firmness that would not be ignored. It deflated her son immediately.
Interesting talent, that.
"This is not the time," she continued. "Save your bonding for later."
"Yes, Mother," Draco murmured.
Raven just shrugged one shoulder, but willingly changed the subject to something more amenable for a party. Something he'd be expected to ask with the information he had at hand.
"You're father mentioned we didn't get along."
Draco hesitated. "We were on opposite sides of a war," he answered finally. "Eventually, you discovered the truth, and we … began repairing things between us."
"I see."
"Tell me, Harry," Narcissa paused, eyes narrowing. "Do you prefer Raven?"
"I do."
She nodded, gently drawing him closer. She released Draco and slid her arm through Raven's. He barely felt her touch, it was so light. For the first time that night, someone's touch didn't trap him somewhere. Into something. He could have pulled away, and she'd let him. He didn't. But he could have.
"Raven, then. Do you have a girlfriend?"
"Mum!" Draco hissed.
"No," Raven answered, a sinking feeling growing in his gut. Was she about to set Draco Malfoy up as something more than a rival/lover?
"Boyfriend?"
"Bloody hell, mum."
"Language, Draco."
"No," Raven answered, glancing between Narcissa and her son. "Were you hoping he and I …" He couldn't even say it.
Thankfully, Narcissa laughed softly, and her son couldn't hide the shudder of disgust.
Good. Raven's skin crawled at the thought of doing anything with the Slytherin.
"Of course not. Our lord would kill him for even thinking of it."
Raven blinked. "Why would he care who I dated?"
Narcissa shrugged. "He's always been a possessive man."
I do not like the sound of that.
"If you stay in one place for much longer, Bellatrix will find you."
Raven glanced around them, as if the mere mention of her name could summon her. He wouldn't put it past her. So, he didn't fight when Narcissa tugged him forward. Draco fell into step on the other side.
"How long have you known me?" Raven asked.
Narcissa nodded to a small group as they walked, but didn't stop to talk with them.
"We met for the first time when you were 14," she answered.
"Briefly," Draco added. "You were rude to her."
She was sneering at us.
"Draco," Narcissa chided. "You're being rude now."
Draco muttered an apology, looking away from them. Narcissa laid a hand on his arm. This woman seemed entirely different from what he remembered. Kinder.
There aren't any muggleborns around. Or Weasleys.
"The second time, you were almost 16," Narcissa continued. "Due to negligence of care and attention, your godfather was killed, and several of your allies were put into danger."
That's almost the truth. Once again, these people twisted reality to suit them without changing the facts too much. How had they learned to do that? How had they decided which aspects to keep?
"What happened?" Raven asked.
Narcissa paused, hesitating.
Draco huffed. "This is a party," he said. "Do you really want to talk about how people died?"
"I'm trying to learn."
Draco eyed him again, out of sorts with his calm response. None of them had seen him since Ron and Hermione were killed, but surely someone told them about his lack of emotional response. There'd been ample opportunity for people to witness it.
Maybe he just didn't believe it.
"Draco's right," Narcissa said. "This is a happy occasion. We should be talking of happier times. There's time enough for everything else.
Raven shrugged. It didn't matter what they talked about. None of it would be real.
"Did I have friends?"
"Of course," Narcissa smiled.
"Are they here?"
"No, unfortunately, not."
"Why not? Don't they want to see me again?"
"They'd dead," Draco told him, eyes scanning the crowd.
"Draco," Narcissa hissed.
"They are," he insisted. "No point lying about that, Mother."
"It's better that I know," Raven agreed.
Narcissa's smile was sad. "You were always so brave. So selfless. You burnt out."
Raven's response was to shrug. Maybe he had. Maybe he hadn't. He doubted she'd know one way or the other. He might have said something suitably vague, but his scar distracted him, announcing Voldemort's arrival better than the sweeping silence.
Every eye turned to the entrance. Raven couldn't see the man immediately, but Narcissa handled him to the edge of the parting crowd. They didn't move, but others did, creating a walk path for the dark lord.
Just behind Voldemort was an older man who looked a lot like Theodore Nott, WAlden McNair, and someone he thought was Evan Rosier - a man most thought had died in the first war. When he'd left five years ago, Rosier wasn't kept that close to the dark lord. He was kept in the shadows. A silent killer.
What's changed in five years?
None of them remained with the dark lord. As he swept down the cleared aisle, the three men faded into the crowd, disappearing from view.
What were they talking about before?
He shoved the thought away. It had nothing to do with him. These thoughts would only get him bound back up in everything. If there was one thing he wanted to avoid. It was that.
Still on his arm, Narcissa curtsied low. On her other side, Draco bowed. The entire ballroom dipped low as Voldemort approached. Everyone except Raven, who watched it all with dispassionate eyes.
Raven had never bowed to Voldemort. He wasn't going to start now. The worst Voldemort could do was kill him, and he didn't seem inclined to do that yet.
Merlin knows why.
Voldemort looked at him, his eyes flashing with amusement - still an odd look for the man. He paused before Raven, eyes trailing over his figure. A slow caress of his eyes. Not something the dark lord had ever given him before. Not something he ever wanted to experience again. He didn't frown. He didn't shift uncomfortably. He had more control than that.
"Ah, Harry." He seemed pleased about something, but also angry. Who had pissed him off?
"I hope you're enjoying yourself."
Raven shrugged. "Not my kind of scene. I'm still waiting for that proof."
Voldemort smiled. It wasn't reassuring.
"You'll get it, Harry. Tonight. After the party."
He reached up, fingers going for Raven's hair. Raven pulled away, mouth tightening. Why did everyone insist on touching him? Voldemort, he could almost understand. THe man liked seeing him in pain, and an easy way to do that was to touch him. That didn't mean Raven was going to let it happen.
Voldemort smiled, which continued to not reassure him at all. It was objectively a nice smile, but it was still wrong.
"Enjoy the party, Harry," he said, finally moving along.
The ballroom remained silent as the dark lord continued on his way. As he took a seat at the throne set up at the end of the ballroom, the aisle flowed closed once more. CHater filled the room.
Bellatrix attached herself to Raven's arm.
Raven didn't even try to shrug her off. Until she released him, there was no escape. Narcissa released his other arm, so he wasn't trapped between the two of them.
"Bellatrix, really," Narcissa sighed.
"He's my boy," Bellatrix snapped, dragging Raven away hard enough that he actually stumbled after her.
Bellatrix didn't lead him to another crowd. She dragged him out onto a balcony he hadn't seen. As they left the press of people, Raven relaxed. He could handle one person, even if it was Bellatrix Lestrange.
The fresh air helped.
"You left me," Bellatrix snapped, shoving Raven away from her.
"I needed a moment alone."
"You found Narcissa!"
"She found me," Raven answered slowly. Why was she so angry? Surely she didn't think Raven would attach himself to her every second of the party.
"Do you prefer her to me?"
Raven blinked. She's jealous? Of me? Of Voldemort's favor, more likely. Raven had it - supposedly - and she wanted to be a part of it.
"I don't know her. She wanted to introduce herself, and her son. That's all that happened."
Bellatrix stared at him, the anger slowly fading. Raven gazed back, wondering if anything about this woman made any sense.
"You left me," she whispered.
"I needed a moment alone."
"You didn't tell me."
A bit of truth, then. "I didn't think you'd let me."
"I thought I'd lost you," Bellatrix said. "I turned around, and you were gone. No one knew where you went, and I-"
Bellatrix started crying. Not great loud sobs, just a sudden burst of tears that hitched her breath and stopped her words. She turned away from him, hiding her face. Great big sobs would have been easier to watch. Those could have looked fake. Overdone. Those wouldn't have looked heartbreaking.
Raven blinked at her. He hadn't thought her capable of tears. It seemed too delicate … soft … for a woman like her. Bellatrix didn't cry. She made others cry and took savage joy in it.
"You disappeared," Bellatrix cried. "And I never thought I'd see you again. But, you're here, and I had you, but you disappeared, and I didn't know where you were. I thought-"
Fresh sobs cut off her words. She leaned against the balcony, head bowed. Her breathing shook. She sounded devastated.
"I turned around, and you were gone."
He glanced around, looking for someone to help him, but there was no one. They were alone. How did anyone deal with a crying woman?
He sighed silently. "Bellatrix-"
She collapsed onto the stone bench beside her. Raven took a step forward before he could think about it. She was still crying.
"I'm Bella," she sobbed. "You call me Bella. You always have. Bellatrix did nasty things to you, but Bella loves you. That's what you said. You said it."
Raven hesitated again. She can't actually believe this. Can she?
Bellatrix was insane, but surely not that crazy. He hadn't thought her this good though. He knew the truth, and the guilt was still beginning to gnaw at him.
"Bella," he managed, the word weird on his tongue after it almost choked him coming out.
The woman didn't look at him, hands covering her face. He could still see tiny droplets falling. Raven inhaled slowly, and crossed the balcony. He sat beside her. Bellatrix continued to cry.
"I'm … sorry," he said. "It wasn't my intent to scare you." He paused. "I don't like people, and too much of them is … difficult to handle."
Bellatrix wiped at her eyes, but she still looked leaky as she turned to him.
"Just tell me," she said. "I thought you were dead. For five years, I thought you were dead. Now, you're here, but you're not you." Her chin trembled, and she began crying again.
Raven did something he'd never done before. He hugged her. She clutched at him, burying her head in his shoulder.
"I just want my baby back." Her words were muffled, but Raven heard them. Was meant to hear them.
He held her as she cried, his skin not crawling at the contact. He stared out into the dark, not as unaffected as he appeared.
When she finally regained her control, Bellatrix dragged him back inside. This time, Raven didn't fight her grip. He couldn't handle more tears just then. Especially when he couldn't tell how real they were.
Sorry for the long wait for this chapter. I live in Oregon, and when I stopped updating, we were having those really bad fires back in October. I had family in danger zones, so I was more worried about their continued health, then writing. And then NaNoWriMo happened, which meant I was focusing on an original novel which I didn't complete (I did write 50,000 words though, so yay me?). Then, Christmas and all that hassle. Finally, in January, I got an idea for a podcast that I simply had to write before I lost it. If anyone is interested in what it's about, drop me a line and I will happily tell you about it.
As for this chapter, well, in the original version, this, and the next two chapters were one coming in around 6000 words. On the rewrite, it's looking to be about 3 chapters, each one at least 4,000 words. Lost more stuff is happening, and different people showing up. I feel like this had always been happening, but Raven just didn't say anything?
Anyway, enjoy. I'll try to get another chapter up within the week.
Allanashsa Ke Kiri