Chapter 21:

Deadly Love Triangles

The dinner party at the Tonks household had been a raging success.

They ate their fill, talked endlessly about Hogwarts - during which time Harry had to feign ignorance about what life was like living there - and the finer details of his interactions with different students. It was a beautiful night and by the end of it they were all on their way to a food coma. All of the guests, save for Harry and Bellatrix, had to floo home that night out of fear of possible splinching from the alcohol consumption and general wooziness.

Harry ended the evening by escorting Bellatrix to the Tonks spare bedroom and kissing her goodnight, before grabbing a blanket from the closet and settling into the couch. It was a much more comfortable couch than the one he had slept on the night before, but also significant more lonely. He slept soundly with dreams of cold fields with a viscous wind blowing through them, drowning out the noise of nature and the elements. There was somebody else there, but they both kept apart with their own feelings of loneliness.

CRASH!

Who needs a morning alarm when Nymphadora's around?

"What did you break?" Harry asked tiredly with a morning yawn.

"Just a coffee mug."

Ew! Coffee? Those Aurors needed to stop introducing their recruits to yankee foods and habits.

"Well, repair it and bring me a mug of earl grey will ya?" Harry ordered. "As apology for waking me up."

She grumbled but complied and soon he was seated up with said mug of tea in his hands and the adorable metamorph seated across from him. While he didn't like the stuff he had to admit, the smell of coffee in the morning was a delight.

"So Harrison..." Tonks began.

"Hadrian." He corrected.

"Right. Hadrian. What did I say?" She asked.

"Harrison." Harry answered. "A lot of people confuse the two."

It was much too close to his actual name for his liking. He specifically chose Hadrian because it was close enough that he could answer to it without too much delay, but far enough from the anglical Harry that he felt safer in his alter ego.

"Right. Hadrian." She went on. "My mother and I have been talking about aunt Bella, behind her back obviously, and she's had me thinking."

"Sounds dangerous. And what have you been thinking?" Harry goaded her on as he finally took a sip of the tea.

Still too hot.

"Well, my mother seems to think you're much closer to me in age. And wonders why you pursued my aunt."

Harry had to think about that.

"You mean as opposed to pursuing you?" He clarified.

Tonks snorted.

"Yeah. That seems to be her line of reasoning. She's more new-fashioned and thinks boffing should be kept within generations without too big of age gaps." She explained.

Now it was Harry's turn to snort.

"Well in that regard, I think you and I both disagree with her." He said with a conspiratorial wink.

She glared at him suspiciously but didn't comment further as Bella herself entered the living room. Tonks settled for sipping her coffee and Harry settled for admiring his girlfriend with an intentionally goofy look on his face.

"Uh oh! What have the youngsters been talking about?" Bella asked in a mocking tone.

She advanced on Harry, sat forcibly on his lap, and crossed her legs before hugging his head and kissing him above the brow. A little possessive there Bella?

"Not much." Harry answered through her thick dress. "Just how we both seem to be into people a bit older than us and how other people need to butt out of our affairs."

Ted and Andromeda joined them soon after that and they had a breakfast consisting of their morning drinks and leftover pastries, compliments of the Weasley twins. By the time they all settled in owls were arriving with their daily post. They retrieved their copies of the Daily Prophet and Harry retrieved his Quibbler.

Ghillie Dhu Resurrected

by Xenophilius Lovegood

Late last evening in a Pollock beside a riverbed a strange magical event occurred. A typhoon of wild, vicious magic tore apart the countryside. Stone fused with wood, fused with dirt fused to the unfortunate animals caught in the storm. The end result is a twisted mass that at first glance would seem the work of a dark wizard or witch unknown, but Unspeakables sent to the scene have determined differently.
"We can detect no hint of dark magic being used." Said the nameless, hooded spokesperson for the group of investigators at the scene. "But this was magic, it was powerful and it was wild in nature."

The Department of Mysteries couldn't comment on what findings they've made regarding the taped off scene, but well-read readers will take a glance at the photograph of the strange place and be reminded of a certain Fae entity whom once roamed these lands.

Ghillie Dhu.

A powerful lone fairy known to have lived in the northwest highlands of Scotland - where our story takes place.

He was a terror to the now extinct Sidhe and his wrath was known to cause devastation that was described similarly to the mass of organic and inorganic matter we see here today.
He was known to have warred with other fae species due to their kidnapping - or worse - of children and is attributed to the extinction of several - including the Sidhe themselves who some Magi-Anthropologists believe may have held a similar culture to the worshippers of Moloch in the ancient middle east. And one could imagine why Ghillie Dhu - or an entire race of beings like him as some have suggested once existed - would take issue with that.

His disappearance over a century ago was sudden, and if this is his return then it too is as sudden as his many hibernations and returns throughout history.
If what we are seeing truly is the eponymous fairy rising from his tomb, then may those who mistreat the young tremble in terror.

Harry had to wonder how much of the history on Ghillie Dhu and other fae Xeno made up and which was actually true. He knew nothing of the beings, from either a Muggle or wizarding perspective, but if this got people searching for a nonexistent - or extinct - fairy race, then all the better for him.

"Blowing off some steam huh?" Bella asked from where she sat on his lap.

Right. Somehow he forgot she was there reading over his shoulder.

"Is it that obvious?" He asked.

"Only to me. You did come to me immediately after this happened the other night, I take it?" She whispered.

He nodded and turned his attention to the Tonks family, who he just now realized was silent. Seeing them staring, stock still, at the front page of the Daily Prophet made his stomach drop.

Bella noticed too and tentatively reached across the living room table to slowly pry the copy Nym was holding onto. The photo on the front depicting the horrific murder scene of two Aurors explained the looks. As did the title.

Voldemort Announces his Return to Britain with a Gruesome Display.

Why did Tom always have to pull stunts like this instead of just having a quiet visit? Hell, Harry'd settle for confetti and fanfare.

"What are we going to do?" Nym broke the silence. "The war has been rough enough with him overseas, how much worse is it going to be with him back?"

"Meh, he's not much more dangerous here than out there." Harry explained. "He is just as capable of leading the war here while far away as present. Fast communication makes that rather easy. All his presence equates to is the Death Eaters having one more fighter. An imposing fighter, but one that won't see battle as often as he needs to command."

Bella and Andy both nodded to his words and Harry coaxed the former off of his lap.

"As for what I'm going to do, I have to go check in on a friend and run an errand with Gringotts." Harry said, kissing his girlfriend goodbye.

A pop of apparition and short trip through the long, uncomfortable rubber tube ride later and he was standing in front of the Marchbanks home. Alastor came running out moments later.

"I realize you have the uncanny ability to appirate in through my wards but could you not?!" Alastor complained. "They ring like a gong every time you do.

Harry couldn't stop his eyebrows from raising at that.

Usually when he befriended the "kami" of a home or place that is warded they would allow him free access. After all, it's not everyday a house meets somebody that can talk to them, or more accurately bothered to listen to them. So he was rather good at making friends with them. Except Hogwarts herself. She always liked to remain aloof and unattached.

When he did take advantage of coming as he pleased to a Kami who liked him it didn't usually alert the owner. Alastor must be a rather talented and wise wizard indeed if his home loves him so much as to give him warnings despite the wards being circumvented.

"I'll avoid doing that in the future." Harry promised. "But seeing you march out here without so much as a cain answers the question I came here to ask."

He motioned to his relatively unbandaged body as if he were a prize pony on display.

"I'm looking to be fit and ready for Hogwarts midterms." Alastor confirmed. "But is it wise to leave this place less defended while... he's back inside of Britain's borders?"

Harry waved off these concerns with a dismissive motion.

"He's not going to go right for the jugular and burn the whole country down." Harry explained. "He's dramatic, he likes to take things slow. He won't make his major move until Halloween at the soonest. Then things'll be nice and quiet until late spring."

Alastor looked at him skeptically but must have decided it wasn't worth the headache of having Harry explain his knowledge of Voldemort's plan. This was wise, as Harry would have surely responded with spirit fingers and a declaration of his status as a "psychic!".

"So. As you can clearly see I am fit as a fiddle. Did you want something? " Marchbanks asked.

"If all goes well this Friday, then I wanted you to join me and Tufty's crew of old ladies next Saturday." Harry said cheerly.

"Friday?" Marchbanks asked curiously.

Harry looked at him disappointedly.

"First full moon for Professor Morrigan's Werewolf Sanctuary. Just have to go finish registering at Gringotts and get everything ready with the volunteers and we will be ready. Finally."

Voldemort popped back into existence in the Malfoy gardens with a sigh. Nearly two days unconscious in that cave after reabsorbing his Horcrux was not a pleasant nap to reawaken from. Nor was dragging himself back out of the cave his best morning to date.

The defenses were still up and running and anybody foolish enough to go in there looking for trouble would certainly find it, but that still left him with the need of a good meal and better company. A quick application of hygiene charms and he was presentable for the blonde patriarch running down to meet him now.

"I realize you have the uncanny ability to appirate in through my wards but could you not?!" Lucius complained. "They ring like a gong every time you do."

Voldemort laughed whole-heartedly at the man's irreverent greeting and reached out to invite the man in for a hug. His godson accepted and they shared a quick embrace.

"Lucius, you are the spitting image of Abraxan. If he were still alive, I'm sure he would be proud of what you've accomplished with your investments and politicking." Voldemort said to the younger man.

Lucius simpered under the praise but hid it better than most.

"It is good to see you again my Lord." Lucius said honestly. "Why return now? Where have you been these past five years?"

"Ah, questions, questions and more questions. If we are going to have a fireside story hour then let us do it properly, as we used to when you were a miniscule creature." Voldemort instructed. "Take me inside and have a platter of treats prepared."

And thus, Voldemort executed his diabolical plan to mooch a free, high-end meal off of his godson. That the trip also allowed for him to complete another errand was pure happenstance.

Lucius readily agreed and led him into the entrance hall where Narcissa stood leaning upon one of the many black marble pillars. She looked none too pleased. Lucius somehow didn't notice.

"Lucius, while you go order those entrees could you also retrieve my old school diary. The one I left in your care?" Voldemort asked. "I promise I have no further ulterior motives to my visit beyond that, some food and catching up."

Lucius glanced between him and his wife, noted the slight animosity in the air, then gave Voldemort an inquisitive look. What little got past the man's occlumency barriers told Voldemort that the man actually feared the two might fight. And further feared he might kill Narcissa if they came to blows.

He almost laughed aloud at that.

"Have you ever seen me be anything OTHER than a gentleman to a lady?" Voldemort egged. "Whether she was agreeable or in a right state?"

Lucius seemed unsure of himself but must have realize that whatever altercation about to occur there wouldn't turn out differently whether he was present or not. He left them in peace.

They listened as the sound of his footsteps receded before breaking out into a fit of subdued laughter.

"Was he actually worried about leaving me alone with you?" Narcissa said in disbelief.

"Hush now Narcissa. He lives under the delusion that he is the only godchild my Hogwarts peers left with me. Now, before you lay bare what has you upset with me, I do believe I'm owed a hug." Voldemort commanded, and Narcissa complied.

She released him with a sigh then glanced at his frame with a frown.

"You seem... peckish." She said with hidden concern.

"Haven't eaten in two days. And before that I had a spot of food poisoning." He explained.

His brain couldn't come up with a better euphemism for "drinking water from an inferi-infested underground lake after consuming a class E regulated potion." Food poisoning rolled off the tongue better.

"Now. Your complaints?" Voldemort prodded.

"I don't complain!" Narcissa said defensively. "I'm a wife and mother now. I nag. And I'm going to nag you about your little stunt on the harbor."

"Ah." Voldemort said in understanding.

"Ah? Just ah?" Narcissa prodded.

"Yes ma'am. Just ah." Voldemort said cheekily.

He could tell her that he had initially planned on making a more subdued reappearance. That he had planned to stun whatever customs Aurors came to annoy him and pilfer their brains for any useful info followed by an obliviate. He could even tell her that within their minds he discovered that the two of them abused their position to further abuse human trafficking victims who came to British shores.

That man and woman team of serial rapists needed making an example of. And so, he made the example. As he had done to many Death Eaters over the years who used the power he gave them for similar atrocities. No need for apologies or explanations. His burden. His crime. He didn't need to ruin Narcissa's day with it.

"So, you're just going to leave me angry with no explanation or apology?" Narcissa clarified.

"Right in one, child. Now, I do believe we have some catching up to be getting on with." Voldemort sidestepped her feigned anger.

She sighed in surrender before - without provocation - grasping him by the arm and walking him through the doors of her home.

Was it really any wonder why he preferred the company of the pureblood families to the rifraff he usually had to deal with? Beautiful, wonderful smelling women who would lead you on a tour of their remodeled home while hanging on your arm in that way that brings to the surface all of your masculine pride.

"How has Draco been since I last saw him? I hope my little lesson about being more likeable and forming bonds between houses got through?" He asked as he noted the changes in drapery and furniture from his last he visited.

Suede? She must trust Draco and his friends not to ruin it now that he's older. Narcissa positively beamed at him, and thus began her cooing over her son.

"Ooooh yes. He leads the study group for his year and is always neck in neck with the Muggleborn girl I told you about."

"Grinder?" Voldemort asked, trying to remember.

"Granger! Come now, that should be easy enough to remember. Especially for you, mister "I almost quit the wizarding world after OWL year to go live the peaceful life of a lonesome farmer"."

He never should have told her that story. She misinterpreted it as him having a romanticized vision of rural life. When really it was just that by the age of sixteen he was already so fed up with the world that fucking off into the wilderness or homestead seemed more palatable than schooling, career or marriage. It was a difficult concept to explain to any woman, one of those sex divides. So, he didn't bother.

Grover Rookwood on the other hand? Unlike him, that classmate actually went through with their plans to fuck off into the woods and never be seen again. You had to admire a man who could live through multiple wars, recessions and a technological revolution without noticing any changes in their day-to-day life. He ought to check up on him sometime. He was short on living friends from back then. The department of mysteries should be grateful that his son decided to be part of society.

"And is this Granger girl formidable?" Voldemort asked.

"Formidable? Hah! Highest in her year, I have it on good authority that Lily Potter is eyeing her as a potential apprentice." Narcissa went on.

Ah yes. That infernal redhead. Possibly the most brilliant mind in Britain below the age of sixty. Taking on a proper apprentice and lead them to a mastery was the only way for a lady like herself to achieve the status of "Madame." The highest educational title, above even mastery, that a witch can be bequeathed.

Honestly? She deserved it. Shame she was never particularly receptive to his offers to join him. Killing her would be grandparents in-law in that skirmish years earlier might have had something to do with it. But when facing TWO veteran lieutenants of Dumbledore's war with Grindelwald even a man of Voldemort's combat abilities had to take the gloves off and go all out. Unfortunately, when he does, people die.

"So, what really brings you back to your motherland?" Narcissa pressed.

"Quite a lot actually." Voldemort said honestly. "Partly to undo some magic I experimented with in my youth that has turned out to be a mistake. Partly to check in on my loved ones and how our war of attrition has affected them. But the biggest factor is that I have some new talent to investigate and possibly recruit."

Narcissa let go of his arm and turned to glare at him.

"My son is not a warrior, and never will be." She said with the conviction as if she were stating that the sun would surely rise tomorrow and even HE couldn't prevent it.

She was right.

"No, he will not. Nor will I be marking any more children." Voldemort confessed. "I'm loath to speak poorly of the dead, but it was my generation that set out on this war. And your parents, all of your parents, made their oaths with me and had no right to force them upon you. I regret letting them. One way or another this war will be over before your son graduates Hogwarts. This war has already lasted one generation too long, it won't drag onto another. I will still recruit them, but not mark them nor put them in the fray."

She held a hand to her chest, visibly taken aback by his declaration. It was bold, even for him, but it was also true. He was close to no longer caring which side won or lost. Like most people he was tired of the fighting. And the things he has seen in his extended travels, and the changes he was experiencing now that he'd reabsorbed not one, but two horcruxes... he was changing, and that scared him, but after his encounter with that being he welcomed it.

"And these individuals you wish to recruit?" Narcissa pressed further.

"Not so much recruit as investigate." Voldemort admitted. "There are some youth, like this Granger girl and her friend Romulus, not to mention your niece, who show great talent and you know how I so desire to see talent fully realized."

Narcissa nodded.

"If what you say about Lily scouting her is correct, then Granger seems to be well on her way, and that Mad-Eye has taken young Nymphadora under his wing is better than anything I could have hoped for. Did you know that his father was in Slytherin in my year?"

"Really?!"

"Oh yes. The only person who consistently mopped the floor with me on the dueling pit. Alastor is certainly his son. If he had my years under his belt, and my health, he would be a match to me in a straight up fight." He explained. "But only just, and not a match in any of my other persuits."

Narcissa gave him a skeptical look but shrugged and motioned for him to continue.

"Aside from that I need to go speak with Mrs Marchbanks, the very old one, regarding her son. Don't be surprised if the next time you see me after visiting her I have a black eye. It wouldn't be the first time." He said. "Griselda is a monster, and she might not look it, but you don't live longer than Dumbledore AND work in higher magical education for over a century without learning quite a bit that's beyond even me."

Narcissa seemed much less skeptical of that claim. Which was hilarious seeing as he was lying through his teeth. He just respected the woman as a person too much to ever raise his wand against her. Her son on the other hand? He owed him a thorough thrashing. Then again, he had come out as the lesser-scathed in that encounter. So maybe he ought to call it even?

"There's also this Hadrian Marchbanks fellow." Voldemort went on. "I've been hearing conflicting reports, but apparently he's caused quite a few waves. Some of them very positive for our community, well all of them really, but some also not great for my crusade. I'm very eager to meet him. If all goes well, he will be my final marked Death Eater."

Narcissa made a very unladylike snort at that proclamation and when Voldemort looked at her questioningly, she broke down into a full fit of giggles. Before he could question her Lucius returned, carrying his long-lost journal.

He made to offer it, but Voldemort stopped him.

"Lucius, we taught you better than that." Voldemort chastised. "You NEVER touch a cursed or enchanted object with your bare hands nor offer it to somebody without properly containing it."

Lucius blanched before withdrawing a silk handkerchief - the ideal material for handling cursed objects and likely on Lucius' person specifically for picking up such items - and wrapped the book in it. This time Voldemort did take it from him.

"It never caused any issues, and I couldn't find out much about it with what examinations I did." Lucius said.

"You wouldn't. I was very thorough in concealing its true nature. And while it wasn't meant to ever harm you it... might be debilitating to the point of death to me if I touch it with my bare hands." Voldemort said.

It was rare to see the Malfoy patriarch with such a shocked expression. It was the truth too, if not the whole truth. For within the diary contained a whole half of his soul, whereas he currently held barely more than a quarter. He dared not try and reincorporate the diary until he retrieved the remaining three. When he had a whole half of his soul restored, he would then risk the merging.

As it was now, he risked the sixteen-year-old version of himself in the diary overpowering and subsuming him. Or else annihilate him like the soul fragment from the ring returning to him through the void had very nearly done.

Finding out who destroyed it and making them suffer would have to wait.

And that ring only contained one quarter of his soul. The locket had a mere one thirty second and it still almost bodied him. He'd go for the diademnext, with it's much more manageable one eighth, and work his way down. Then he'd have little to fear from the diary.

Shame the diary and ring were the only ones on this continent.

But for now, he'd keep it on his person.

"Can we expect you to stay home this time?" Lucius pleaded.

Voldemort looked up.

"Unlikely." He said honestly. "It'll take a week, maybe two, to accomplish what I have planned. Although there is a chance..."

He trailed off. He'd become much more talkative and honest lately. A side effect of regaining his soul?

"What can we do to make you feel welcome enough, godfather of ours?" Narcissa pleaded.

"Oh yes matchmaker." Lucius chided. "What could convince you to stay?"

Were they really trying the puppy dog eyes on him? Those hadn't worked since before they both started at Hogwarts.

"Well those d'oeuvres would be a good start." Voldemort teased. "But more seriously I've been told that Bella has... mellowed out since I left. Lost her obsession with me along with her, how to say, ouster that scared me away last time. I've mellowed out a bit myself and expect to further mellow out a great deal more, so it may be time to try and reignite that flame."

When he returned from the daydreams that spirited him away as he spoke it was to discover the couple looking more uncomfortable than the day, he introduced them hoping to spark a courtship.(One of his greatest successes to date.) He felt the bottom of his stomach drop out and a jealous rage boil up in its place.

"What?" He growled. "Has something happened to her?"

Lucius coughed uncomfortably.

"Well, you were right to think she's lost her obsession with you. From what conversations I've had with her lately that ship has certainly sailed." Lucius said almost jokingly.

Voldemort did not appreciate the joke, even if he wasn't in on it.

"It's funny actually." Narcissa commented to her husband. "He just brought up mister Morrigan on a completely unrelated note before your return."

"Morrigan?" Voldemort asked. "What does Hadrian Morrigan have to do with my precious Bella?"

He wasn't happy when they answered. Partly because they couldn't stop giggling like school children the entire time they gave it, and partly because of the sudden - expensive - changes to his plans the news forced upon him.

Harry exited Gringotts bank to the crisp evening air of Diagon Alley. The goofy grin on his face made it almost seem like he hadn't just spent ten hours in a shouting match with five generations of the Shmicklehook family and a good dozen other goblins and ministry officials.

And the reason for the grin? Because those ten hours resulted in them all accomplishing the job at hand. Professor Morrigan's Werewolf Sanctuary was officially certified, funded and licensed to operate by every standard that mattered! And in his hands he held the finished registration form and the golden seal upon it.

He held it up to the dim light of the setting sun and kissed it. And as if to accentuate his happiness an eagle high above roared in that way eagles do. It matched the feeling in his chest.

He took a deep breath and stretched is magical senses as he pocketed the piece of parchment and descended the front steps of the now closing bank. He felt the smooth surface of every stone beneath his feet, every leaf of the well-trimmed weeds trying desperately to rise up through the cracks of said stone and every crevice of the hand grenade that the hideous Hispanic woman just lobbed at him from behind the pillar he just walked past.

It was actually a fine piece of enchantment. A full Aztec runic array for the expansion and containment charms to hold whatever substance she had filled it with. From the feeling of what little was already escaping from the device. It was certainly part dragon gizzard fluid - a rather igniteable substance - mixed with... was that napalm?

KABOOM!

Yup. definitely napalm. Who in their right mind mixes napalm with dragon gizzard fluid?! Somebody with a death wish or murderous intent. Likely both.

Anyways he managed to morph the stone beneath him into a shell above him, but failed to account for how little earth actually separated the streets of Diagon alley and the cavernous goblin-made tunnels below and thus he found himself tumbling into the bowels of London where sewage from the Muggle world and runoff from the deeper levels of the bank mixed into a disgusting sludge.

The current took him a little ways before he caught his bearings and lifted himself up onto a ledge.

His assailant followed him down, along with some companions, and he got to his feet just in time to see them manage a much more dignified landing. In part to them cooperatively transfiguring the filth beneath them into solid earth combined with their use of the arresto momentum spell. Dead useful. He really ought to remember to use it kore often.

And so he finally got a good look at them.

The hispanic woman, scarred with burns and gashes from what he surmised was a lifetime of magical tomb raiding - She looked the curse breaker type - was flanked by a filipino man that gave Harry serious Mad-Eye Moody vibes and a blonde man with an automatic Ak47 slung on one shoulder.

Bounty hunters? Assassins? Both?

It didn't take many guesses to figure out who sent them, what confused him was the why. He was certain Voldemort would at least seek him out and try to recruit him before SENDING A FUCKING HIT SQUAD AFTER HIM!

Well, not yet at least.

Oh. The eagle he heard earlier just flew down the hole to join the trio. Scratch that, he was an animagi, now a pissed off Cheroke-looking motherfucker built like a pile of bricks stood with the others.

What had changed? Why was Voldemort turning the war hot? And why weren't those Kappa in the water attacking yet?

AN: These are not the team from Bungle in the Jungle. They're the terrorists from The Lie I've Lived. If you have read both, which you should, you know the difference.

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