Thank you again for all the reviews! Sorry for the long break in updating this.
Chapter Seven—The Cost
DARIUS NOTT TO DONATE MONEY TO FIX UP THE ST. MUNGO'S CHILDREN'S WING!
Harry grinned as he read the article. Whoever had written it had a tendency to just stick to facts and also include lots of quotes from the St. Mungo's Healers, which Harry appreciated. It was nice not to have worry about a Rita Skeeter-style report on this.
Apparently, Darius had donated well over two thousand Galleons, and since some of the repairs had been made already, that was a nice amount that would bring large portions of the wing almost back to full functioning. The reporter, one Kaylee Brown, had interviewed Darius, and had reported on his "horns and satyr hooves," and quoted him as saying, "Now that the blood of Avalon has returned to us, what can we not do?"
Satisfied, Harry lowered the paper to the table and began to eat his porridge.
"I didn't really think he'd do it," Hermione said, staring at the headline. "I thought he would come up with some means to put you off or fulfill the letter and not the spirit of the request."
"I think he's probably like Theo said, and he really hates owing debts," Harry said, and slurped some of the porridge off his spoon, grinning as Hermione winced. "That would give him an incentive to do as I asked, and as soon as possible."
"Potter."
Harry glanced up with a sigh, and then blinked. Gregory Goyle was standing in front of him, and Harry didn't think he had seen him all summer. "Yeah?" he asked cautiously. Goyle had a heavy jaw and his hands clenched in front of him, and if he tried to swing at Harry, Harry was going to defend himself, Dark Mark that Goyle had once borne or not.
And he had been the one to follow Theo around all the time and spy on him. Harry didn't exactly feel charitable to him.
"Are you the reason that I'm like this?" Goyle asked, and then reached up and brushed his hand down the middle of his forehead.
Harty blinked as a horn appeared there, apparently from under an illusion. It was a thick, twisted, black spiral horn.
And a single one.
"You're never a unicorn," Ron blurted from down the table.
Goyle turned and stared at him, lowering his horn a little as if he was going to charge and impale Ron on it. Harry hastily stood up, nearly braining himself on Goyle's chin. "I'm probably the reason that you're like this," he said. "But we can go and talk about it outside the Great Hall, right?"
Goyle grunted. "Why? Ashamed to be seen with me, Potter?"
"Have a care how you address your lord."
Goyle froze at the voice, and Harry didn't think it was his imagination that a tremor ran through him. Then he turned around and grinned at Theo in a way that Harry thought revealed a glimpse of teeth sharper than they should be. A fanged unicorn, then. "Hey, Nott. I wasn't threatening him."
"What were you doing, then?"
Harry leaned around Goyle when Hermione gasped, and saw why. Theo had gone full satyr. He was horned and hooved, yes, but his robes were also thrown back so that his hairy legs were on full display. He held up a hand, and it gleamed with silver claws in place of his fingernails. Harry swallowed and hoped absently that he wasn't panting.
Goyle didn't attack, which surprised Harry a little. He would have thought the horn and the fangs would have given him the confidence to do that. Goyle just cleared his throat and shifted around a little. "I just—wanted to find out if he was the one responsible for—for giving me the Blood of Avalon."
"Were you." Theo held up a hand and examined his claws, and then scraped them gently past each other. The sound did things to Harry. He found himself struggling to hold in a sharp breath. Theo winked at him, but there was no sign of that on his face as he turned back to Goyle with a look of loathing. "Then you'll have no trouble joining with me in protecting him."
"Wait, what?" Harry asked, feeling knocked off-kilter.
"No trouble at all," Goyle said quickly, bobbing his head. His horn must have come near Theo's eye, but Theo leaned his head back with an easy motion, and it passed him by. "I can do that! I can protect him!"
"Good." Theo cast a glance at Harry and then looked at the door of the Great Hall. "Would you like to walk with me, my lord?"
"I'd like to know why you're calling me my lord," Harry hissed under his breath, even as he stood up with a fixed smile on his face. Theo's words had been loud, and they were in public. Harry had the feeling that he wasn't going to get away with not answering. "I thought we were past that."
"Step out here, please, my lord. Then things will be made clear."
Grumbling under his breath, Harry followed Theo. He glanced over his shoulder to see that they had quite a retinue following along: Goyle, and Ron, and Hermione, and, for some reason, Snape. Harry frowned at him and turned forwards to look at Theo again.
They came out into the entrance hall, and Theo cast a Privacy Charm that wobbled and then expanded around them, enclosing all the people who had followed. He leaned an elbow on the wall and shook his head at Harry. "Of course I plan to be different in private, and even when classes start again," he said. "But right now, you really only have two choices."
"Oh? What are those?"
Harry knew his voice was freezing. Theo winced as though he was feeling the sting of actual ice pellets along his skin, and bowed his head a little. But his voice remained measured and patient, not the voice of the lover Harry had thought he knew. "To accept our homage and the reality of your having taken the Dark Lord's place in the network of the Marks, or to be charged with a crime."
"What are you talking about?"
Theo winced again and took a deep breath. "I received a letter this morning," he murmured. "It's from Marcus Flint. He took the Mark, but I didn't know that, since I never saw him among the Death Eaters. He's incredibly upset about his troll heritage, and he's asking me if I plan to bring you before the Wizengamot for human Transfiguration."
"Human what?"
"Yeah, what?" Ron and Goyle said at the same time, and then glared at each other. Harry couldn't find it in himself to smile.
"Unfortunately, what you did is not supposed to be possible, my lord," Theo said quietly. "Not bringing back the Blood of Avalon that was so long considered lost, and which some people consider a blessing that only magic itself can bestow, or at best Dark rituals. So some people believe that you Transfigured everyone the Mark touched, or at least everyone who had their heritage revealed."
Harry rubbed his forehead. He had noticed that some of the Prophet articles lately had already moved on from calling him heroic for defeating a terrible Dark Lord to declaring that no one really knew how he had done it. He supposed he should have expected that neutral tone to change to vilifying at some point.
For a second, bitterness curled like a chokehold around his throat. When was it done? What did he have to do to make them accept that he was mostly a good person and he didn't have any intention of being a Dark Lord? People like Quidditch players and Celestina Warbeck seemed to remain in the public's good graces with no effort at all, why couldn't he?
Then Harry shook that off, becoming aware that Hermione had touched his shoulder and Ron was watching him in concern, Theo with something deeper than concern. Harry forced a wan smile onto his face. "So what you're saying is that I have to declare myself a Dark Lord to avoid being charged with Dark magic?"
"Not so much declare yourself a Dark Lord. But reveal your place in the network, and offer to withdraw it from the people who don't want Avalon's blood."
"Won't they sicken and die, then? The disease in the Marks will come back?"
"Yes." Theo smiled. It was an odd, brilliant, cruel expression, and Harry would have liked to explore the reaction he was having to it if they'd been in private, but as it was, all he could think was that the reaction was damned inconvenient. "I encourage you to tell them that, my lord. Tell them what the price of their freedom will be. There might be some who will want to claim it anyway." Theo tossed his head, as if showing off how easily he bore the weight of his horns. "But that is their decision."
Harry breathed out and rubbed his face. "I don't want anyone to die."
"I suggest you make an exception for those who would choose death over being part creature," Theo said flatly.
Harry grimaced. He supposed he would have to, if the decision, as Theo had implied, came down to one or the other. "All right. And you think the best way to reveal my place in this network is, what, to accept people calling me by a title?"
"I will want to do that," Theo said. "Perhaps Goyle, here." Goyle nodded quickly, although Harry wondered how much of that was his real belief and how much was agreeing because Theo was so intimidating. "With others, it will be enough to show them your place in the network and the way you are supporting Dark magic."
"He's not supporting people casting Dark Arts," Hermione began.
"Isn't he?" Theo still hadn't moved, and he hadn't taken his eyes from Harry. "That's the reality of the situation. He made an enormous sacrifice to preserve our lives, to prevent us from dying. Most of us cast some kind of Dark Arts spells during the war, or tortured prisoners. That's supporting us."
Harry winced and rubbed his hand across his forehead again. "You just had to bring that up, didn't you, Nott," he mumbled.
"That's the reality of the situation," Theo repeated. He'd flinched when Harry spoke his last name, but he continued standing there and holding Harry's eyes. "I would lie to you if I thought it would make any difference."
"And other people will see me that way. As someone supporting people who cast Dark Ars spells."
"Yes."
Harry sighed and stared out across the entrance hall towards the doors. He could feel the others staring at him, and then Hermione reached out and squeezed his hand. Harry squeezed back, only turning around when someone cleared their throat.
It turned out to be Snape, who sneered at Harry and said, "You are once again seeing why you should have left this mess alone."
"Just because you wanted to die doesn't mean everyone did," Harry snapped.
The silence after those words seemed to fill the entrance hall. Snape stared back at him with widening eyes. Harry considered him and said nothing. Was this another of those insights he wasn't supposed to have, like the one about Snape's vampire heritage? Well, too bad.
He turned to face Goyle and eyed the horn on his head. "Are you happy being a unicorn? I can pull back my magic if—"
"I don't want to die!"
Well, that settled that question. And of course Theo was happy with being a satyr, and Darius Nott had adapted even if he didn't much care for it in the beginning. That left Draco and Flint, Harry thought. And Snape, but there was probably nothing to be done for Snape.
"Do you think it would matter at all if I gave an interview to Skeeter, or would that hurt the situation instead of helping?"
Hermione, whom Harry had asked, blinked a little, but Theo broke in before she could say anything. "I believe it would help. You could present yourself as someone who stumbled unawares into the situation—"
"In other words, tell the truth," Snape muttered.
"And only did what he believed to be necessary to save other people's lives." Theo turned his head slowly to the side to fix Snape with one bright golden eye, as if he wanted to memorize the way the man looked saying these words. "You could even downplay yourself as a Dark Lord, then. Say that we are following you because we had to when you took over the network of our Marks, and you never meant to be a successor to Voldemort."
Goyle gasped. Harry looked at him curiously, and Theo shot him a narrow smile. Goyle said only, "You said his name," one hand dropping to his left arm, as if he expected his Dark Mark to burst into flame of some kind.
"I live in a world where I can," Theo said softly.
And I want him to continue living in that world.
Harry settled his shoulders. Speaking to Skeeter wasn't his favorite thing ever, but they'd done some good with the interview in the Quibbler during his fifth year. "Let's do it."
If he was doing it for Theo more than the rest of them, then no one would ever know.
"You have to fix me, Potter."
Harry blinked and looked up from the school owl whose flight he'd been tracking across the sky. He had sent the invitation to interview him to Skeeter, and he wished he could stop feeling as though he'd just plunged into shark-infested waters. It took him a moment to focus on Malfoy, who was drooping in the Owlery doorway.
"What?"
"You have to fix me," Malfoy repeated unhelpfully, and wandered into the room.
Harry studied him. Malfoy seemed all right, if droopy. And pale, but that was probably the Veela heritage manifesting itself. "Okay," Harry said doubtfully. "What do you mean?"
"Too many people want to date me."
"Oh, the people here?" Harry hadn't actually noticed that, but then, he spent time mostly around Ron and Hermione and Theo. Ron and Hermione were firmly dating each other, and Theo was, well, fixated on Harry.
You like that fixation.
Harry coughed and hoped that Malfoy would think his shiver was one of sympathy for the awful fate of being desired by lots of people.
"No." Malfoy drooped onto the windowsill and sat there like a cut flower with his arms folded under his chin. "Lots of people sending me letters because they heard about my Veela heritage. Surely you must have seen how I'm inundated with owls at the breakfast table."
"Uh, no."
"What?" Malfoy turned to stare at him.
"I haven't noticed." Harry shrugged when Malfoy continued to gape at him. "I suppose I just usually come in later and haven't seen you getting all that post."
"They want to date me because I'm a Veela and they want to breed that kind of heritage back into their lines to try and get the Blood of Avalon," Malfoy said sharply. "Not because they want or desire me. They only want me because I'm powerful and beautiful. You caused this, Potter. Fix it."
"I don't know exactly what I did," Harry said helplessly. "I think I could try to let you go by removing my hold on your Mark, but then you'll start dying of the sickness in your Mark again."
"You think, you think." Malfoy sneered, suddenly looking much more like his usual self. "I want you to solve the problem, Potter. You just always charge ahead and think you're doing good, but you didn't."
"Okay, so do you want to die of the sickness?"
"I want to not die, and I want to go back to being human."
"I'll have to take some time to think about it—"
"You can't take the time! This is a crisis! I need this problem solved now!" Malfoy took a step towards Harry, and wings seemed to manifest behind his back.
Harry nearly stepped away, but then he stood still. He had defeated Voldemort, and he had partially caused this problem by rushing ahead, and he couldn't depend on Theo to protect him all the time.
He looked Malfoy in the eye, and the other boy faltered. The claws that had been shimmering like silver scalpels on the ends of his nails abruptly faded from view, and he turned his head away, muttering something and looking a little sheepish.
"I understand it's a problem," Harry said quietly. "But I need to worry about the Ministry trying to indicate that I'm a future Dark Lord, and solve that problem first. I can set up wards around you so the letters would come to me instead, if you like." Hermione had mentioned doing something like that with people sending her letters so they went to her parents' home instead.
"You—would do that?"
Malfoy was gaping at him. Harry blinked. "Yeah? You want me to solve the problem, right? And I've put myself in the position of a Lord whether or not you wanted to—and I know you didn't ask for it," he added, a bit self-conscious. Not everyone was Theo and deliriously happy about their non-human blood. "I just can't solve the problem of your Veela heritage itself until a little later on, when I've worked out if I can disentangle my magic from your Mark without making you sick again."
"That's not what you're like."
"What am I like?" At this point, Harry didn't know what Malfoy was talking about, or why Malfoy would have the impression that Harry wouldn't set up post redirection wards for him. It wasn't like Harry had gone around refusing to do that on a regular basis.
"You hate me. You turned me into a Veela because you hated me."
"No, I didn't. I turned you into a Veela because I tried to repair the network of the Dark Marks without knowing what I was doing."
"But you didn't consider what you were doing because you hate me."
"No, I just wanted to save your life and was thinking that I couldn't let you die."
"You—didn't hate me?"
Harry shrugged uncomfortably. He felt sort of strange remembering the way he had reacted to Malfoy in fifth year, now. It was so irrelevant when Malfoy had hated being a Death Eater and Harry had tried to prevent him and the others from dying. "No. I didn't think about you specifically. I was trying to save you, but also Snape and Theo and all the others who didn't deserve to just die like that."
Malfoy closed his eyes, and then he turned and rushed out of the Owlery.
Left alone, Harry sighed tiredly. He didn't know if he knew where he stood with Malfoy anymore. Or even Snape, although his hatred of Harry seemed increased by each thing Harry tried to do for him, not wavering the way Malfoy's had been.
"Harry?"
Harry started and turned his head. Theo was standing in the doorway of the Owlery Malfoy had just fled through, his eyebrows raised in silent question. Harry wondered how he hadn't heard him coming, then decided Theo must not have hooves to click on the stone right now.
"Malfoy is confusing, and I need to study owl redirection wards, and maybe I made things worse instead of better," Harry mumbled. "Can I have a hug?"
Theo moved forwards at once, looping his arms around Harry's waist and shoulders. Harry leaned his head on his shoulder and sighed again.
"You made things better for me, at least," Theo whispers. "And if the others would rather be free of their Avalon heritage completely, then you'll find a way to make it happen without hurting them. I know you. Once you dedicate your mind to something like that, you won't leave it undone."
Harry closed his eyes and snuggled closer to Theo. At least he was straightforward instead of confusing.
