I don't know why I need to reiterate this, but apparently there's people that haven't heard of the two most basic concepts: one being, there's a backbutton and two: if you don't like something, you could put it down. Writing a ten paragraph review saying why you don't like it was unnecessary.
I have an interview tomorrow for a position I want, and I have a knee that doesn't want to heal, so everything is fine. I wrote this chapter in the fits of pain, in hopes to distract me from the bouts of pain.
Chapter 38: In the Hands of Fate
Tom returned back to Slytherin Manor after having a discussion with Harrison, with thoughts on what just conspired with the boy. It seemed that the boy knew that he was now his guardian, but that wasn't much of an important matter, but there was another thing that was. It was merely how the boy had found his horcruxes so easily, when they shouldn't have been found like that.
He gave the diary to Lucius to be kept safe. It seemed that not only Lucius disobeyed him, but he had put it on the shelves in his library, knowing that someone would easily be able to access it. He'd have a word with him in two days' time when Lucius came up with nothing. The locket was placed in the cave that he visited when he was only a boy, and placed inferi into it. Regulus was killed, but somehow, succeeded in taking the locket. He briefly wondered how Regulus succeeded in retrieving the locket, but at least it was safe- since the boy took a hold of it.
He hoped his other horcruxes were still in the same location where he placed them at. There was a good chance they would be. No one knew the existence of his horcruxes, besides him. He knew Dumbledore would probably be questioning how he contained the aspect of immorality, but didn't know the method of how. His old potions' teacher, Slughorn, didn't even know he'd created them after he asked him about it.
No one knew of his objects unless they were desperately searching for ways to kill him, but the places where he had placed them- no one would be able to get to them. Ravenclaw's Diamond was hidden in a pile in the Room of Requirement back at Hogwarts, but that diamond has been lost for centuries- it turned into a myth. Hufflepuff's Cup had been given to Bellatrix Lestrange who put it into her vault- charmed so thieves wouldn't be able to take something out of the vault, if they got that far.
The ring is probably one of the places that could be easily accessible- stashed away inside the Gaunt's House, where he took his relatives, by blood, lives. Even if one managed to find and steal the ring, the dark curses that surrounded the ring would kill the thief. He wasn't really worried about the ring too much either since no one would be able to fully-stop the curse that was applied on the ring.
He glanced at the snake who hissed her pleasure of slithering around, investigating her new snake-keep area. He let out a small dark smile, as he knew what he wanted to do in the near future. He wanted to have Nagini as a horcrux, considering she was loyal and would always be at his side. At least if she contained a piece of his soul- he'd be safe if someone went looking for his horcruxes. Yes, that sounded like a good plan, he mused to himself, but first to the task at hand: why did two of his horcruxes grow rather sentimental to the boy, and didn't bother killing him. What did they know that he didn't?
He sat his two horcruxes on the desk in front of him, and pulled out his wand, saying the incantation. Dark, thick smoke lingered in the room for a brief moment before his two younger selves appeared. One his sixteen year old self with his handsome features, and dark brown eyes and the other with his twenty-year-old self with red flecks hidden in his brown eyes.
"We finally regained our body," his diary-self commented. "I was wondering if our main part would come back."
"Why have you gathered us here?" His locket-self commented, narrowing his eyes. "You haven't called on us in a long time. I thought we weren't that important when you stored us away, never to see the light of day."
"Things are different now," Tom told them. "I haven't forgotten. I only called you here, because I wanted information."
"About what?" His diary-self commented, "You don't ask us for information."
"He's right," his locket-self piped up, "You've never asked us for anything like that, unless we know something you don't. Could it be that there is someone or something that he doesn't know?"
Tom rolled his eyes at his locket's antics. Of course, the moment he called for them for something, they would immediately question it, considering his actions towards them. Granted, he was going to put them back into their respected objects as soon as he was done. After that, he really had no idea what to do with the objects.
"Why were you both in the hands of Harrison Peverell-Slytherin?" He questioned, "Why didn't you try to kill him?"
"I wanted to possess him," his diary-self admitted, "However, it was mainly the way he wrote in the diary. He immediately connected the dots that we were connected to you. He just didn't know how. Any other person would have put their thoughts, dreams and whims about their life and I would have… He didn't do any of that unless I asked him about it during our conversations. You have no idea how lonely it is to simply be confined in a diary with nothing but the memories you carry, knowing that time doesn't exist."
"You hadn't even attempted to?" He accused his diary-self.
What kind of sentimental feelings did he diary-self carry, he thought to himself, as he waited for his diary-self to continue talking.
"I was going to, but the further we carried on our first conversation… I couldn't bring myself to it," his sixteen year-old self said. "My curiosity was piqued when I realized there were a lot more secrets he was hiding."
"What about you?" He turned his attention back to the locket, who stood there, silently. "Did you try killing him, or were you also sentimental?"
"If you wanted to know… I tried choking him. I nearly succeeded," his locket-self admitted in a cold, vindictive tone. "The boy spoke parseltongue. It's what captured my interest."
"It's always rare to find another speaker. You didn't grow sentimental feelings around him, did you?"
They were both quiet before they answered no in unison. HIs eyes narrowed, but he wasn't going to question.
"Before you return us back. There's something you need to know," his locket self admitted. "You have to give him a chance. Show him the spells we've learned over the years. He's almost like us from when we were younger and his age. So much to prove."
"Good to know," Tom agreed, "He has so much potential. I'd hate for it to be wasted on something so trivial. The boy is destined for greatness."
His two selves nodded in agreement.
"Is there anything else I should know?"
"Perhaps, it's time to return to our old looks?" If we wanted our cause to work, wouldn't it be better if Lord Voldemort took a step back into the shadows and we created a new persona. Someone that'll go out in the shadows," His diary self explained.
His diary-self made sense. He was already thinking about resorting back to Lord Slytherin and let him back to life. There wouldn't be no one to recognize him, not in this day and age. He'd be able to pass several bills on the Wizengamot table, and be able to gather more followers easily. Perhaps, they were onto something.
He sent his two horcrux-selves back to the respected objects-diary and the locket, and left the two horcruxes on his desk, to be dealt with later. For now, there was something that he needed to do.
…
Two days passed with nothing really happening whatsoever. Harrison stayed over with the Malfoys for a little bit, mainly by the request of Ella who simply refused to leave his side too much, eager to have him by her side again. He let her enjoy herself. Currently, they were in one of their many rooms that he'd never been in. It was a rather small room that had a couple of shelves of bookcases, a fireplace, windows that were open to reveal the hot breeze that came through, and several pieces of furniture in it. Harrison sat in a chair, barely paying any mind as Ella and Draco sat at a table, playing wizard's chess. He briefly saw Ella's black knight chess-piece get decapitated by one of Draco's chess pieces, and dragged off to the side of the board, where many of black chess pieces were.
"Dang. I was really hoping that would do it," Ella groaned, as she made her another move- this time, moving the black queen across the board. "How are you so good at this game? It's like every move I make, you already counter it by a simple move."
Draco let out a small laugh, as he moved his white bishop diagonally across the board, letting Ella's black queen end up like the previous knight that got decapitated.
"He had years of experience, Ella," Harrison told her. "He's one of the better players, and probably one of the best in our year. Trust me, I still lost with him despite playing several games. I've gotten better at it, but even then, it's hard beating a master like him."
"The key is, not trying to make your moves so obvious,'' Draco pointed out, as he decapitated another of Ella's pieces. "You're making a lot of rookie mistakes, and it's very easy to see that you're just guiding your pieces on the board with no meaning of where they go…."
"Checkmate."
He witnessed the end of the game as Draco checkmated the king, leaving Ella's king to throw its crown towards Draco's king.
"You need to make a plan. You also need to watch your opponent, and know which pieces have the highest value. You have to try and control the center, that's where you'll easily be able to capture most of your opponent's pieces if possible, and protect your king at all costs… That's one of your many mistakes that you made in this game. You didn't bother trying to protect your king. That's how I was able to easily be able to checkmate your king," Draco explained, "You don't need to be hard on yourself. I've been playing for years and figured out the many ways to win the game."
"He's right," Harrison pointed out, "It's hard to defeat him. Besides, you need to practice more. Maybe in a few years, you'll be able to defeat him easily, just like what he's doing to you."
"Okay," Ella murmured. She was rather quiet a little bit, before she suggested, "Do you want to play with me? You can't be any worse than I am at this game."
Before Harrison had a chance to answer, someone interrupted them. Harrison noticed how everyone stiffened up and froze of what they were doing. He sat there as he recognized the cold voice that belonged to the Dark Lord,
"I hate to interrupt this game of yours… Harrison, come with me."
"Yes, my lord," He murmured.
He barely paid any attention to Draco and Ella's reaction as they were looking at him, faces blank and refused to talk as he went out of the room with the Dark Lord in tow. They walked through empty corridors in silence and continued walking until they stopped at a large, ornate door and the Dark Lord opened the door to reveal a rather large, spacious and rather empty room.
The room was rather spacious and didn't have anything besides a lone, large, black throne in it. He briefly wondered what he was doing here, but refrained from saying anything.
"You're probably wondering why I called you here… I'll be calling my inner circles here in a short bit," THe Dark Lord told him. "Due to my morals, I will not be publicly marking you or revealing you to my followers until later…"
Harrison nodded.
The Dark Lord flicked his wand with a silver liquid appearing in mid-air. The liquid silver twisted into the shape of the Dark Mark- a coiled serpent coming out of a grotesque skull. With another flick of his wand, a silver chain was conjured and combined the pendant and chain together. Voldemort held up the ends of the chain, and slipped it around the neck of Harrison. He felt the small bit of heaviness around
"This works just like the regular dark mark does. It'll burn when I summon you," Voldemort explained in a low voice. "It's also charmed that only certain people can see it. Right now, it's only keyed for you and me to see it."
"Thank you, my lord," he murmured.
Voldemort didn't say anything else, as he produced a mask and handed it to Harrison. Harrison grabbed the black mask and put it on, it fitted perfectly across his face and pulled up his hood on his robe.
"To conceal your identity… Stay right there while I host my meeting with my followers," the Dark Lord told him.
He pulled up his left sleeve, and pressed his finger onto the Dark Mark that was branded on him. There was only silence in the room, before many wizards and witches appeared in the room, concealed under masks and hoods, and brought themselves into a circle around the Dark Lord. One of the Death Eaters fell to his knees, crawled toward Voldemort, and kissed the hem of his black robes.
"Master . . . Master ..." he murmured.
Then, one by one the Death Eaters behind him did the same; each of them approaching Voldemort on his knees and kissing his robes, before backing away and standing up, forming a silent circle around the room- leaving obvious gaps where Harrison assumed were meant for the Death Eaters that were locked up in Azkaban.
"Welcome, my Death Eaters," Voldemort said quietly, "Ten long years it's been. Ten years since we last met. Yet you answer my call as though it were yesterday. . . . We are still united under the Dark Mark, then! Or are we?"
None of the Death Eaters spoke as they stood there, as they waited for the Dark Lord to continue his lovely speech.
"I smell guilt," he said. "There is a stench of guilt upon the air."
A shiver ran down everyone's spines including Harrison. He knew that it wasn't meant for him, but the sheer power the man emitted, and the way it almost felt suffocating in the room. He noticed several Death Eaters who kept their head downs, not wanting to look up towards the Dark Lord.
"I see you all, whole and healthy, with your powers intact - such prompt appearances! and I ask myself...why did this band of wizards never come to the aid of their master, to whom they swore eternal loyalty?"
There was a loud silence in the room, almost like someone could drop a pin and you'd be able to hear it. No one dared to move, under the fear that the Dark Lord might do something to them, if they dared to move an inch. He narrowed his eyes, knowing that most of them carried the sense of guilt with them- knowing that they didn't do anything to help bring the Dark Lord back sooner. Instead, it was up to him when he followed those whispers into the darkness and saw it through. His followers truly doubted that their lord had found a way of immortality, and chose to renounce the ways of the Dark Lord.
"And I answer myself," whispered Voldemort, "they must have believed me broken, they thought I was gone. They slipped back among my enemies, and they pleaded innocence, and ignorance, and bewitchment ...
"And then I ask myself, but how could they have believed I would not rise again? They, who knew the steps I took, long ago, to guard myself against mortal death?They, who had seen proof of the immensity of my power in the times when I was mightier than any wizard living?
"And I answer myself, perhaps they believed a still greater power could exist, one that could vanquish even Lord Voldemort...perhaps they now pay allegiance to another...perhaps that champion of commoners, of Mudbloods and Muggles, Albus Dumbledore?"
It seemed right after the Dark Lord uttered Albus Dumbledore's name, the Death Eaters stirred a little bit. Some of them muttered and shook their heads as if they realized how much the light has gained so much control in the magical world. The Dark Lord continued, ignoring the Death Eaters who were muttering underneath their breath.
"It is a disappointment to me...I confess myself disappointed..."
One of the Death Eaters flung himself towards the Dark Lord, breaking the circle they were in.
Someone from the front row threw himself forward. Trembling from head to foot, he collapsed at Voldemort's feet.
"Master!" he shrieked, "Master, forgive me! Forgive us all!"
Voldemort began to laugh. He raised his wand. "Crucio!"
The Death Eater on the ground writhed and shrieked on the ground, falling on the ground. Harrison's mouth twitched as the blood-curdling screams echoed throughout the room. Everyone else remained quiet, not daring to move while one of their own screamed as the torturing curse was laid on them. Eventually, the Dark Lord raised his wand and the spell stopped. The Death Eater laid there, gasping for air.
"Get up, Avery,' said Voldemort softly. "Stand up. You ask for forgiveness? I do not forgive. I do not forget. Ten long years … I want ten years' repayment before I forgive you…"
Voldemort walked towards the Death Eater on the right.
"Lucius, you were there when I was resurrected only two days ago," Voldemort whispered. "You have repaid some of your debt when you aided my resurrection… The item I entrusted you with over ten years ago, did you find it?"
Lucius was rather quiet before he replied rather quietly, "I did not, my lord."
Voldemort raised his wand, "Crucio."
Lucius's screams bounced off the walls for a minute before Voldemort canceled the spell. Lucius laid on the ground and quickly scrambled to stand up. The Dark Lord held an object in his hand- the diary.
"Was this the object I entrusted you with, Lucius?"
"Yes, my lord," Lucius said weakly. "May… May I ask how you got that, my lord?"
"That's not important, but hopefully that lesson under the Cruciatus curse taught you that you shouldn't just leave an object of highly importance discarded somewhere."
"I have," Lucius whispered.
The Dark Lord moved past Lucius, walking past the two empty spaces right by him.
"The Lestranges should stand here," said Voldemort quietly. "But they are entombed in Azkaban. They were faithful. They went to Azkaban rather than renounce me. . . . When Azkaban is broken open, the Lestranges will be honored beyond their dreams. The dementors will join us . . . they are our natural allies . . . we will recall the banished giants . . . I shall have all my devoted servants returned to me, and an army of creatures whom all fear. . . ."
He walked past several Death Eaters in silence, and paused and spoke to them, before he moved on.
"And here" — Voldemort moved on to the two largest hooded figures — "we have Crabbe . . . you will do better this time, will you not, Crabbe? And you, Goyle?"
They bowed clumsily, muttering dully.
"Yes, Master . . ."
"We will, Master. . . ."
"The same goes for you, Nott," said Voldemort quietly as he walked past a stooped figure in Mr. Goyle's shadow.
"My Lord, I prostrate myself before you, I am your most faithful —"
"That will do," said Voldemort.
"Snape, my most slippery friend… I trust that the old fool hadn't had any suspicions with you?"
"No, my lord," Snape answered. "I have ten years of information to pass onto you, but he's been more worried about the boy-who-lived more, my lord." His dark brown eyes flickered towards Harrison, but revealed nothing.
"I'd like to hear that later, Severus."
Voldemort reached the largest gap in the circle that had several people missing. Harrison wondered who they were, but it wasn't that important. It'd been so many years. So many of the Death Eaters were either locked up, killed, or turned traitors.
"And here we have several missing Death Eaters… Three died in my service, one locked up in Azkaban and one of them possibly turned traitor if I don't see him by the end of the week."
The Dark Lord walked past the several empty spaces and paused right in front of a Death Eater whose hood was up.
"And finally, the newest addition of my followers- Sirius Black," the Dark Lord murmured, "He was a friend of blood traitor, James Potter, the father of the boy-who-lived until five years ago. Since then, he returned to his roots and was one of the few people who brought him back… The Dark Lord rewards his followers and you, Sirius, certainly pleased me… Step forward."
Sirius stepped forward out of the circle and into the middle of the circle. The Dark Lord stood in front of him, his face impassive and red eyes staring at him. He held out his yew wand in his hand.
"Give me your left arm, Black," the Dark Lord ordered.
Sirius rolled up the sleeve on his left that revealed pale skin underneath. Voldemort put his wand onto the pale, unmarked skin and murmured,
"Morsmode."
A small shot of green light was produced by the Dark Lord's wand. A black mark began to morph onto Sirius's arm into a familiar look. The skull had hollow eyes and a mouth that was wide open, as if it was in a silent scream with jagged teeth around the edges. A black snake was twisted and winding its way around the skull with its tongue flicked out. The once pale skin turned red at the sudden, new presence of the Dark Mark. He saw Sirius's eyes water in pain as he blinked rapidly.
"Thank you, my Lord," Sirius whispered.
"Congratulations, Black… You may go back."
Sirius tugged down the sleeve on his left arm and returned to the circle, the Dark Lord paused before he headed back to where Harrison stood.
"As you may have noticed, there is someone I haven't introduced yet… His identity will be known later. Rest assured, he will help us win this war when the time comes, and will prove to be a great asset in breaking our friends out of Azkaban," Voldemort said.
A lot of Death Eaters looked at him with wary looks written all over his face, with several of them muttering underneath their breath and making a loud outcry.
"Silence!" The Dark Lord said rather loudly, "My decision will not be questioned. I shouldn't have to repeat myself. If I hear one more Death Eater question my actions regarding him, I won't hesitate to crucio you for questioning your lord…
"You all will keep quiet about my returning, you may go."
The Death Eaters scrambled out of the room, eager to get out of the Dark Lord's presence and out of the manor in general. Harrison stood there as the Dark Lord stood there, and removed the mask from Harrison's face,
"I have decided not to reveal you to them. I will in the future, when you are older," The Dark Lord told him in a quiet voice.
Harrison nodded.
"You will come with me to Slytherin Manor," The Dark Lord murmured, "Come."
Harrison took the Dark Lord's arm and they apparated out of the room.
…
Saeviour let out a string of curses underneath his breath. The sharp pain lingered in his scar, just as strong as before, if not a little weaker. It felt like his head was being pounded by something- a weapon or someone prying a knife across his head, and watching as the glistening red blood dripped from the open-wound, before penetrating back in again. It had only been a couple of days since his scar last hurt, and he was concerned.
Worry bubbled up into his thoughts, as he thought about the last months and events from the last year or so. His scar often hurt during the first of the month, and then disappeared as soon as Quirrell left the castle. It was quiet for a good while, and he almost forgot what the pain felt like. Ron thought he was simply being paranoid, but he had a strong inkling it was something: something that he knew what his worst fears confirmed.
The Dark Lord was back.
He had no idea how or why, perhaps it had to deal with the Philosopher's Stone that was conveniently stolen out of Hogwarts. He knew his ex-brother had something to do with it, even though his memories were wiped clean- there was a part of him that he knew he was right.
If the Dark Lord was back then it would be possible that he was trying to recruit his group of followers again. It might explain why his scar had been hurting, and the brief flash of someone getting a dark mark, and that was everything he had seen.
Perhaps Dumbledore might know something, and perhaps he can help him in case Voldemort was back.
Saeviour quickly rushed to the floo, hoping that Professor Dumbledore was in his office and wasn't out. Besides, what does a headmaster do? Come to think of it, he really didn't know. This was his first time actually trying to call the professor during the summer holidays, since before, it was always Dumbledore who showed up, unannounced.
He grabbed the floo powder hanging off from the mantel, and dropped the silvery powder into the fireplace. Large green flames appeared in the fireplace. He dropped another handful of floo powder and murmured,
"Headmaster's office at Hogwarts."
Saeviour put his entire head into the bright green flames, and looked around the Headmaster's Office. Bright red wallpaper lined the walls along with bookshelves filled with various books and trinkets. He saw Professor Dumbledore sitting at his desk, wearing bright red robes, and his familiar long, silvery beard, looking down at something at his desk. It looked like he was writing something since he was holding a quill.
"Professor!" Saeviour greeted, getting the headmaster's attention.
Professor Dumbledore looked up towards the fireplace, and stopped what he was doing. A large smile blossomed on the headmaster's face as he set down the quill he was holding.
"Saeviour, my boy! Come through!" Dumbledore greeted, pushing his golden spectacles up his crooked nose. "Come sit!"
Saeviour approached Dumbledore's desk and sat in the empty chair in front of the headmaster.
"What could I do for you? I have to admit this is a lovely surprise, especially since it's the summer holidays. You should be out enjoying your holidays, not chatting with an old man like me!"
Saeviour let out a small laugh before he shut his mouth. His thoughts tried to form what he wanted without sounding like he was probably just freaked out, but this was Dumbledore.
The Leader of the Light.
There was absolutely nothing he should be afraid of with him, Saeviour thought to himself.
"What is it?" Dumbledore asked again.
"Professor, a couple of days ago- my scar hurt," Saeviour admitted. "I thought it was nothing, even Ron said it was nothing. I thought it was nothing. However, today, it hurt again and this time, I think I saw something. It was only a brief moment, but it was enough to see that there was someone… I couldn't see their face or tell you what they looked like, but they were getting marked with his mark."
"That is very concerning," Dumbledore sighed deeply. "I should have expected this…"
"It's possible that the Dark Lord is back, but my sources haven't told me. Maybe it was someone marking someone to bring back the olden days of the Dark lord rule. That's always a possibility, my boy."
"Proessor, I know what I saw," Saeviour protested. "I know he's back. My gut is telling me he is! You have to believe me!"
"I do, my boy. You just have to think of all the possibilities," Dumbledore interjected. "We don't need to be jumping to conclusions."
"Sir, my scar has hurt like this before. I think there's something about it… Something that you aren't telling me…" Saeviour called out, changing the topic. It almost felt like Professor Dumbledore was purposely dancing around the subject entirely, and he wasn't getting anything out of him.
"My boy, it's for the greater good…" Dumbledore started.
"Don't talk to me for the greater good. You're hiding something from me. I'm the savior of the wizarding world, the one who is supposed to vanquish the Dark Lord. If you're hiding something I need to know…. I need to prepare myself," Saeviour explained. "Please."
Dumbledore let out a loud sigh before he said something in the gravest tone possible- one that he never heard from the headmaster before, "The scar etched on your forehead isn't an ordinary scar from that night… In fact, I believe Voldemort may have transferred some magic into your scar by accident, marking you as his equal… This means that you and him are connected through the curse that failed that fateful night."
"Professor, why didn't you tell me this? I thought it was just an ordinary scar hurting because don't old injuries hurt once in a while," Saeviour explained. "But you kept this from me for eleven years? Was the Dark Lord attached to Quirrell during the first term? Is that why my scar kept hurting?!"
"Saeviour, my boy, I know you're angry right now-"
"No! You kept this big secret without realizing the importance of this. I'm not the boy-who-lived who simply survived the killing curse, it's something more. Me and him are connected and I didn't know this. What if he finds out about this? He'll kill me before I have the chance to try and vanquish him once and for all. Were you ever going to tell me about this?"
"You have to realize, my boy, I did it for the greater good. I was hoping to explain it to you in a couple of years when you have matured, and developed more magic. I was hoping that I knew for sure that Voldemort was back and help train you to defeat… Now I realize that I shouldn't have kept it from you. I was hoping for longer."
"Right," Saeviour scoffed, "Are you positive that there is nothing of importance I need to know? Because I would really hate to be in battle, vanquishing the Dark Lord and finding out that you kept a big secret from you that could have helped me?"
"I'm sure, Saeviour," Professor Dumbledore sighed in disappointment, "I promise you, I'll tell you anything that you need to know beforehand. Knowing that information would be vital for you to defeating him at last so the wizarding world can finally be peace after all these long years."
