Chapter 7

Another hour passed before he needed a break. Instead of just vanishing again, he told Bellatrix. She gazed down at him with something very close to fear in her eyes.

Did someone threaten her?

But, she kissed his forehead and released him. "Don't be long," she told him. "I love you, Harry."

Raven just nodded, finally leaving her side. The fresh air on the balcony was a relief. It was cool compared to the press of warm bodies inside.

He leaned against the railing, eyes closed. His breathing remained even as he considered leaving, his tentative plan be damned. The emotional whirlwind that was Bellatrix Lestrange was impossible. He hadn't expected her to be the troublesome one.

If she was that attached to her role, he wouldn't be able to avoid her for long. She would constantly seek him out.

She'd be the one to take me to Diagon Alley. He could get access to his vault. Fulfill his plans, and be on his way. She wouldn't be the one who got him his wand back, but he could survive without it. If he had to.

"Lost little kittens shouldn't wander off after just being found."

Raven jumped, whirling in place to catch sight of Evan Rosier. The man leaned against the doorframe, grinning. Raven hadn't heard him approach.

Rosier was dangerous. He'd always known that he was an opponent to watch for and be wary of. Now, he knew to watch what he said, even when he thought he was alone. Evan could sneak up on him.

"Kitten?" Raven asked. "I'm not young enough to be a kitten."

"You'll always be a kitten," Rosier said. "Always curious. Always poking your nose into things. Always making messes, and jumping to decisions. Always quick to fight, and always getting so very lost."

"From my experience, cats come and go as they please," Raven said. "They don't often get 'lost' until they choose to be."

Rosier's eyes lit up. What did I do?

To hide his unease, Raven leaned back against the balcony railing, eying the man before him. They'd never had any real interactions before, but everything he'd heard about the man made him uncomfortable. Rosier was not safe to be around, but he didn't know how to get away. The man stood blocking the only exit.

"Oh, they do," Rosier responded, smirking. "That's why muggles chip them, to find them if they run away or get lost, or are taken against their will."

"Fi they really want to get away, they won't be found easily."

Rosier shrugged, his look of amusement unfaded. "It may take years, but they're all found eventually. I once heard about a dog missing two years. He was found nearly 200 miles away."

Raven frowned. It felt like they were having two conversations. One absolute nonsense. The other dangerous. Which one did Rosier mean? His insanity was as well known as Bellatrix's, so this whole conversation could mean nothing. It could also be more.

"If it wanted to, it could just run away again."

Rosier tilted his head, his amusement still clear, but a new glint sparked in his eyes. Raven crossed his arms, gazing back. He would not be intimidated by Evan Rosier.

"Those chips only work if a cat, or dog, is actually found and reported. If the animal doesn't let itself be found, or someone doesn't check, then it won't be. And, it will never be returned."

"The smarter the animal, the better it's escape?"

Raven nodded, then jumped as Rosier threw his head back and laughed.

Something is very wrong with this man.

"Perhaps that's true," Rosier finally said. "But a truly persistent master will always find them, no matter how long they wish to remain hidden." Rosier's smile was wide.

Raven frowned, the night air chilling around him.

"I'm confused," he said. "Are we still talking about animals?"

Rosier pushed off the doorframe, slowly prowling forward. Raven straightened, shifting to the balls of his feet. Whatever the man planned, he'd be ready for it. Rosier noticed. His stance changed, becoming more fluid. The hairs on the back of Raven's neck raised. Danger, everything whispered. Danger, the air warned.

Rosier stopped less than a foot away, gazing down at him. Raven stared back. Ready. Waiting.

"Humanity is just another animal," Rosier said, voice low, confiding. "It just believes its delusions of grandeur. Of all the animals, we are the only ones who hate because we can."

"Arguably, we love, too," Raven said, not missing the difference in their speech.

Rosier called humanity 'they', and 'it'. He separated himself. Raven included himself in their number, even if he'd lost his capacity to care.

"So does every animal," Rosier said. "But humanity is the only one who kills because it can."

"Animals kill too." It was a losing fight, but Raven found himself saying the words anyway.

"To eat," Rosier agreed. "To protect. To guard. Unless they've gone rabid, man is the only animal that kills because it hates. That has developed better ways to kill. That has strewn fields with rotting corpses useful for nothing."

Raven blinked. What did anyone say to that? How did anyone argue with crazy? He couldn't. So, he said nothing.

"Do you know what I see in your eyes tonight?" Rosier asked.

"What do you see?"

Rosier leaned forward, hands behind his back as though to appear less threatening. He failed.

Raven's hand eased for his knife. This close, he'd be able to hurt Rosier before dying. Scar him for life. Maybe he'd be more wary next time. Less cocky about his chances of success.

But, Rosier didn't do anything. He never touched Raven. Never drew his wand. He just hovered close, mouth inches from Raven's ear.

"Hate," he whispered. "There is hate in your eyes."

Then, Rosier pulled away, grinning like he'd discovered a secret treasure. Raven stared.

"Why would there be hate in my eyes?"

"Your stance is wrong."

Raven blinked. "What?"

What does that have to do with anything?

Rosier tsked softly. "Widen your stance."

When Raven didn't move, Rosier sighed and kicked his stance wider.

"Bend your knees more."

Not wanting more contact, Raven obeyed, though his confusion didn't abate any.

"Good," Rosier praised. "You're better able to move from here. You knew this before, but you've forgotten. Attack me."

"Why would I do that?" He wasn't that crazy. Only a fool attacked Evan Rosier alone.

The man grinned wide as he stepped back, finally putting space between them. Raven didn't relax. Unlike Bellatrix, Rosier's brand of crazy was smart as well as ruthless. Relaxing around him meant death.

"You still move well," Rosier told him. "And you've remembered to come armed." His eyes flicked to where Raven's knife hid. "I want to know how much you've retained."

"Only a fool fights for no reason."

"We're not fighting. This is a test, Kitten."

"Why do you care?" Raven asked, feeling out the stance, which did feel more stable.

Why show it to me? What does he gain from this?

"It's a dangerous world," Rosier said. "Everyone should protect themselves from the predators."

"Is that what you are? A predator?"

"Oh no, Kitten," Rosier's smile closed, showing no teeth now.

For a moment, Raven couldn't breath. Something was very wrong with this man.

"I'm the monster under the bed, in the closet, hiding in the shadows to devour unsuspecting souls."

Rosier attacked.

Not with his wand. That would be too easy. He lunged for Raven, who dove to the side, narrowly missing the stone bench. He rolled, landing on his feet. The ballroom was safe. Right then, more of them wanted him alive. Someone would stop Rosier. Maybe.

Weight on his back sprawled him on the ground.

"Shouldn't have turned your back on me, Kitten," Rosier purred.

Fingers fisted Raven's hair, yanking backwards until his head was at an uncomfortable angle. He held a knife, the blade close to Raven's face. One wrong move, and he'd have another scar. But, Raven wasn't defenseless.

"The master wants you alive. He desires your presence. But, are you worth the trouble?" There was darkness in his voice. A rough harshness which could have been excitement.

Pinned as he was, Raven's angle was bad. There was only so much he could reach, but as Rosier was distracted toying with him, Raven plunged his knife into the man's leg.

Rosier hissed, leaning low over Raven. It took him a moment to realize the man was laughing. He rolled off Raven, taking the knife with him. Raven rolled away, feeling the back of his robes sticking to his back.

Rosier's leg was cut wider than Raven thought he'd manage. Blood was everywhere, but the man didn't seem to care. He yanked the knife from his leg and turned it over in his hands. Raven, not quite feeling up to standing, slid farther away, his eyes never leaving the man before him.

Wounded but still dangerous. And now, I'm unarmed.

"Good," Rosier grinned. "You shouldn't have let me pin you, but this would hinder most attackers."

"Most?"

"It wouldn't stop me." He ran his fingers over the flat of the blade, carefully wiping his blood from the metal. Then, eyes holding Raven's, he sucked it off. Raven blinked.

"Have you ever tasted your own blood?" Rosier asked.

"No." He'd been more concerned with keeping it inside his body.

"Tasting someone's blood is intimate," Rosier told him. More intimate than anything else we could ever do with someone."

"Are you saying it's better than sex?" The question was out before he could stop it.

Rosier arched an eyebrow. "Do you like sex?"

Raven's nose wrinkled. "Too messy."

Too much touching.

"And yet, you sit here, covered in my blood without a care."

"It's not the first time I've cut someone."

Rosier grinned. "It's not the first time you've had blood on you."

Raven shook his head.

"You've tasted blood."

That wasn't a question. He nodded. His last 'special' wasn't the first time he'd done it either. Just the most public.

"All muggles?"

Another nod.

Rosier tsked. "It's not the same. Muggle blood is flat. Tasteless. Dull. There is nothing to it. A wizard's blood …"

Rosier rolled to his hands and knees, crawling closer, dripping blood the entire way. Raven didn't back away. He couldn't have explained why, except the danger had left Rosier. For now, he didn't mean Raven harm.

Rosier settled before him, Raven's knife held between them like an offering.

"You want to be intimate with me?" Raven asked.

Rosier laughed. "Only if you're sharing yours."

Rosier raised the knife, blood side up. Raven hesitated.

"You've done it before," he prompted. "Tell me the difference between muggle and magic."

"It's blood. All blood is the same."

How did someone say no in crazy without instigating another attack? Could he? Was it worth the effort? Did he really want to taste Evan Rosier's blood?

"Prove it," Rosier challenged.

There was something in his eyes besides that quiet challenge. A test. A reckoning. Slowly, Raven ran his finger up the flat of the blade, gathering the cooling - though still warm - blood.

This wasn't the most bizarre thing he'd ever done, but it was the first time someone had offered up their blood to him. His eyes never left Rosier as he licked the blood from his finger. Rosier's eyes never left him.

It was different. Not the taste. Blood was blood, and it all had the same metallic taste. But, there was more than just blood. Little sparks of magic leapt around his mouth, connecting to his own magic, igniting it in a trembling of power.

Raven's eyes closed, allowing the liquid to sit on his tongue until the last sparks of magic faded. It was while he was riding those last sparks that Rosier cut him. He almost missed it, the pain almost nonexistent. He shuddered under the sensation, feeling something, fully, for the first time in years.

When he opened his eyes, Rosier held his arm up before him. Raven watched his own blood bead and trickled down his arm, sleeve pushed up to his elbow. Still in a half-daze, Raven didn't fight him. Following the silent directive, Raven licked at the small cut.

Those little sparks leapt through him again. His eyes slid closed, head tilting back to savor the feeling. Connecting to himself in a way he'd never managed before.

This time, when he returned, he was crying silent tears. He left them alone. They didn't matter.

"You understand now," Rosier whispered. "When the emptiness gets too much, you have away to fill it."

Raven inhaled slowly, remembering an earlier comment of Rosiers. "Did you … taste too?"

Rosier reached up, fingers gentle as he wiped the tears away.

"I don't want to kill you," he said, as though that were an answer.

Maybe it is. Rosier only 'tasted' when he killed.

He glanced down. The cut on his arm was gone, but the blood remained. Rosier's wound was gone too, though he hadn't cleaned himself either.

Already the connection, the peace, the pain, was fading away, leaving the shell behind once more. The shell was better. The shell could handle Voldemort and the Death Eaters. The shell wouldn't break.

After another minute of silence, Rosier released him and stood.

"Come, Kitten. They'll be looking for you soon."

"The party is petty and dull," Raven answered, keeping his seat. "If they want to move on to my real reason for attending, I will willingly return. Until then, I'll stay here."

Evan's head tilted once more, eyes brightening in amusement.

"I'll inform the master then," he said. "You may not want to be on the ground when I return."

"Wasn't planning on it."

With a smirk, Rosier slipped back through the curtained doorway, leaving Raven to wonder how no one had heard anything.

Raven sighed, giving himself another minute before rising. His robes stuck to his back, blood drying in a mess he couldn't clean. He kept his sleeve pushed back, not wanting to spoil the inside more than he had to. Merlin alone knew how 'Mummy Bella' would do if she saw it.

He stretched out sore and stiffening muscles as he returned to the balcony railing. Leaning against it, he stared out at the immaculate lawn surrounded by flourishing forest. Details were difficult at night, so he couldn't tell what the trees were, or if they served some purpose other than providing privacy.

It didn't matter. Even if he wanted to get away, the fall would break a limb well before he got to cover. The thought was pointless, but persistent.

He closed his eyes, rubbing at his temple. He'd never been around Voldemort this long. The pain in his scar was quickly moving from an annoyance, to a problem he couldn't turn his attention from.

He breathed through it like he would a normal headache.

Why the song and dance? He wondered. I feel welcomed, so why can't we move on to the real reason I'm here? I want to go home.

Because Voldemort wanted it, and he never cared that Raven was in pain. He enjoyed it when Raven hurt, so he was going to drag this on as long as he could.

But, I'm done now. So, maybe …

He sighed, opening his eyes. As movement caught his attention, Raven leaned over the railing to get a better look at the shadowed forest. There was nothing.

Animal? He wondered. Or something more?

But, nothing else happened. Slowly, his muscles relaxed again, and the pain in his head returned. Everything else was still tense and sore from his scuffle with Rosier. The only way to relieve it was stretching more.

He ran through a few gentle ones, hoping to knock something loose. When none of it worked, he grabbed the railing, pulling back and down. He only stopped when his back popped, and he felt everything around it loosen.

He let out a soft, relieved moan before pushing himself back to his feet, arching backward. Maybe something would pop now.

"Quite a kitten, to stretch so comfortably in someone else's territory."

Rosier. Of course it was Rosier.

"This kitten has claws, or have you forgotten already?"

Rosier laughed, but as Raven turned, it was Voldemort who got his attention. The man arched an eyebrow, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. Still, it was better than what followed.

Raven had learned to recognize many things in his job. Among them, lust and desire. Both of which were present as Voldemort looked him over. Raven leaned against the railing, crossing his arms in an attempt to draw the man's attention to where it mattered.

Voldemort smirked at him. "You look good."

Raven shrugged. "Someone else bought it."

And you saw me earlier already.

"You're the one wearing it."

Voldemort strode closer, sending fresh waves of torture through Raven's head. Raven doubled over, hissing to himself as he held his scar. It took a moment or two before he could breathe through the pain enough to rise. By then, Voldemort just looked concerned.

He hadn't approached more, though he hadn't retreated either, which proved how true that concern actually was.

"Are you alright?" Voldemort asked.

"My head is killing me," Raven asked. "Either show me the proof you say you have, or I'm going home."

"How?" Rosier asked.

"I'll walk."

"It's a long walk back to London."

"Rosier."

The sound of his name silenced the man, but his eyes still gleamed. Everything here was a game to him. To all of them, Raven realized, but Rosier couldn't hide it as well as others.

Bellatrix even seems to believe it.

"I had hoped seeing familiar faces would trigger your memory," Voldemort told him.

"It hasn't."

"So I see." Voldemort sighed. "Severus should be done with the potion soon."

"Potion?"

"To get your memories back," Rosier grinned.

"To start the process," Voldemort corrected. "It will return a half dozen of your memories to you, and more should return over time."

If that's true, then didn't they give it to Lockhart?

"Come, Harry," Voldemort said, holding out a hand to him, palm up. "Let's get you your proof."

"I never put my hand on a burning stove," Raven said.

Slowly, Voldemort' fingers curled inward, and he lowered his arm. He was frowning again.

"I'll have Severus begin brewing your potion."

"What potion?"

"It mutes your pain," Voldemort said. "Which makes my presence bearable."

Can anything actually do that?

"You've said it helps, at any rate," he continued. "And, it will do until you begin to trust me again."

"Trust you?"

What does that have to do with anything?

Voldemort nodded. He appeared to have all the time in the world, which wasn't new, but he wasn't normally so patient with Raven. Or anyone, but especially Raven.

I'm missing something. What am I missing?

"The pain you feel is the lingering protection I … lessened several years ago," Voldemort said. "You don't trust me, yet, so it views me as a danger. The pain is a warning to get away from me. As you grow to trust me, it will fade."

What excuses would Voldemort make the longer it took? Or would he grow suspicious? Would his pain be the reason Raven was watched and guarded?

It's just a few days. Let them take you to Diagon Alley, and then we won't have to worry.

"It's not just you I don't trust."

Behind Voldemort, Rosier continued to grin, flashing white teeth. Voldemort's chuckle distracted him. The dark lord didn't laugh. Not like this. This was almost pleasant, and it crawled up his spine.

Raven inhaled slowly, working to keep his expression level.

"They aren't connected as we are," Voldemort answered, voice lowering, sounding … intimate.

Raven frowned.

"Your protection only works against me."

"Why?"

Would he tell the truth?" Or would it be yet another lie meant to tie him closer? Tighter.

"Because I'm the reason you have it in the first place."

Raven blinked. Not the whole truth, but not necessarily a lie. He's good at this.

Of course he was good. Voldemort had well over 50 years of manipulation experience. He could lie without lying; skirt the truth with any question; make anything think he cared. Right now, all that attention was on Raven.

"Now, come, Harry. You've waited long enough." He held out an arm to the door.

It took Raven a moment to realize he was supposed to go through first. It would put him closer to Voldemort, but was likely one of those signs of trust.

Raven didn't move.

"Evan, gather the others, you know where."

Despite being unseen, Rosier bowed, slipping through the curtain to complete his task. Voldemort stared at Raven. Raven felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise again, a warning he had to ignore. He stared back.

"I mean you no harm, Harry," He sounded sad. Raven hadn't known him capable of the sound.

"Our first encounter proved that false."

Voldemort sighed. "I apologize."

Raven blinked rapidly, unable to process the words for several seconds. Had the Dark Lord ever apologized to anyone before?

If it served his purpose, probably.

"It's been five years since you vanished," Voldemort said. "You were thought to have betrayed and abandoned us. And then, to find you among muggles, right under our noses …" he shook his head. "Betrayal needs to be punished."

Raven nodded slowly. Even muggles punished their deserters and traitors. As far as he knew, they were thrown in jail, not tortured, but it was supposed to discourage others from doing the same.

"I have regretted it."

Liar.

"You don't know what happened," Raven said.

"Neither do you."

"I could have betrayed you."

"You didn't."

"What makes you so sure?"

Why was Voldemort intent on proving Raven's innocence? What did he gain from this? There was only so much political leverage the name Harry Potter could give him. His excuse of amnesia meant his magical ability wouldn't be useful either. Why go through all this effort?

"Your betrayal came as a surprise to everyone," Voldemort said.

"Yes, you've said I was your most loyal."

"You were more than that." Voldemort paused, eying Raven. "You were the closest anyone has ever come to being my equal, Harry. That afforded you certain … liberties and privileges no one else has gained."

What does that mean?

"How's your scar?"

Raven blinked. "My scar?"

"Does it still hurt?"

He shrugged. "I'm growing used to it."

"May I approach?"

Since when do you ask permission?

"I won't touch you," Voldemort promised.

Seeing no other choice, Raven nodded once.

Voldemort approached slowly, as though Raven were a wild animal he suspected of bolting. As his muscles tensed with every approaching step, Raven realized it wasn't entirely inaccurate.

Thankfully, the pain in his scar didn't rise significantly with the small distance. Unfortunately, Voldemort stopped with less than a foot between them, mirroring an earlier action of Rosier's. If Raven moved wrong, he'd be the one initiating contact.

Is that his hope?

Raven uncrossed his arms, not wanting to look defensive, but also wanting his full range of movement should he need to do anything. Gazing up at the dark lord, the look in those eyes made him uncomfortable. The lust had hardened into something more while the desire had almost softened into …

"Malfoy - Lucius Malfoy -" Because he had met several Malfoys now. "-said I became disillusioned in my fifth year. Meaning I wasn't with you then. When did I join?"

"Part way through your sixth year, you sent a letter through Draco. I chose to accept you at your word, and brought you to me."

"For what?"

"Training. And to test your conviction."

"Would you have killed me?"

"Yes."

Raven blinked. His head was spinning from all the lies, but also hearing bits of truth under it all.

"I would not risk our goals if you were not who you claimed."

"But I was."

Voldemort grinned. "You were."

He reached out. Raven tensed further, but Voldemort didn't touch him. His hand hovered over Raven's head, barely moving hairs as it curled down over a shoulder and down an arm.

Raven could feel the warmth of his hand, but not the skin. And, that little inch of air kept his scar from exploding.

Just under his elbow, the warmth slid behind Raven's arm. Not wanting to risk being touched, Raven bent his arm. Voldemort's hand moved forward, keeping close enough to feel that warmth without ever actually touching.

"What are you doing?"

"Trust me."

Never.

He had no choice, physically. He let Voldemort's almost touch raise his hand. 'I must not tell lies' was still etched clearly on the skin. Voldemort stared at it.

"I offered to kill her for you."

"Did you?"

"You would prefer her to live with the nightmares you inflicted on her."

"Sounds gruesome."

Voldemort laughed. "You gave her what she deserved. Dolores Umbridge was a toad of a woman who used what little power she had to lord it over everyone else."

"Sounds like a bully."

"Yes."

Voldemort's gaze returned to the words written on Raven's hand. "If it weren't for your words, I'd have killed her for daring to mark what is mine."

I do not like this.

"Most of my scars seem to be because of you."

"Yes," Voldemort still stared at the words. "Those became a mark of strength and survival. Proof of your right to stand by my side."

Phrasing. Watch your phrasing, or people will think-

Raven's thoughts froze as Voldemort bent down. He still didn't touch Raven, but his lips came close. Each puff of breath ghosted across the back of Raven's hand. Voldemort's eyes rolled up, red meeting green as the dark lord almost touched him. Almost kissed him.

No.

He suddenly realized what Voldemort was aiming for. It was impossible. It could - wouldn't - happen, but as Voldemort smirked at him, Raven realized the dark lord was going to try anyway.

I won't be here long.

He wanted to take his hand back, but couldn't risk touching the man to do it. He wouldn't give Voldemort the pleasure of watching him run away.

So, despite the rapid beat of his heart, Raven held still. He allowed Voldemort to pull away first. Only then did he withdraw.

"We will get your memories back," Voldemort promised. "I'll make sure you remember everything."

Somehow, it sounded more like a threat than a promise.

"Come along, Harry, it's time."

This time, when Voldemort waved him forward first, Raven went. Anything to put some space between them. He felt Voldemort's eyes on him the entire way.

Despite that, by the time they reached their destination, Raven's heart had steadied. His nerves settled. All emotions which could have given him away vanished. He was as he had been the last five years.

Emotionless.

Empty.

As always, it was a comfort.

Happy Valentine's Day, guys. Also, as an apology for making everyone wait so long for the last chapter, I decided to update this ASAP, which just happened to be today.

I have no idea what happened with Rosier. He was never the sanest, but in this version, he's become more ... well, more. I feel like he deserves his own warning.

Let me know what you think,

Allanasha Ke Kiri