AN: I do not own Harry Potter.
I wrote an AU of my AU!
Actually, this started first, but I continued it later. The other one just had a premise that my brain latched onto and wouldn't let go of. Similar premise, just different.
Dementors in this fic are once again a race of sentient magical creatures that are capable of more than just acting like rabid dogs, for all the ministry keeps them almost leashed for the protection of most individuals.
This AU has Voldemort making talks with the Dementors almost immediately, and getting them mostly on side.
Beware: My Unspeakables are barely concerned with the government, even if the government has them working in the building.
A Potter And A Dementor
Otherwise known as "The Death Eater's Headache"
There was a young man, about fourteen years of age, who looked roughly normal. He was lean, not just from growth and some malnutrition, but had also the slight muscled leanness of a laborer. He was wearing his cousin's cast-offs, sure, but he wore them with an air that it didn't matter, as they were fixed to the best of his ability, even with his minor sewing skill. He had the confidence, as he went own the side walk, of someone who has faced a deadly enemy a multitude of times and come out victorious and is sure that with the same combination of luck that he could emerge again victorious. He looked dangerous, though his escaped, jail bird godfather (innocent, mind you, not that he was about to tell his relatives that) probably more dangerous in a crazy way than he did. His neighbourhood had, copying the Dursley's decided story, labeled him a trouble maker. The young man was Harry Potter.
There were reasons he didn't tell his relatives of the innocence of his godfather. One, he got to eat a more regular amount on a more regular basis. Two, he was treated less badly than what he was as a youngster. Three, they forgot to lock him in as much for fear of the godfather he had met now. That was also helped with the fact the Weasley's had taken the bars from the window and not returned them meant no more being completely locked in, therefore being able to escape if the Dursley's treated him too badly, which was a bonus. Four, he didn't have to listen to his aunt's screeching as much, and if his life was actually normal, that might be all the way at number one. A summer with less chores some days was amazing, almost like he was a normal kid in a normal neighbourhood, as his relatives pretended.
The irony of the street calling him a trouble maker was that the worst ones were Dudley, Piers Polkiss, and the rest of the guys that they hung around with. Since they had story and experience of both boys, they just labeled any of the kids from that end of Privet Drive as bad luck. Sometimes they were nice (Harry mostly), and sometimes not (Dudley and crew more often). It drove Petunia Dursley crazy trying to make her family seen as normal.
Either way, Harry was left alone on his eagerly grabbed break from Privet Drive.
Until he ran into his cousin Dudley who had been smoking at one of the group's houses.
The sky grew dark as the dementors came.
He failed to get to cast a patronus as his cousin had decided to attack him as if he was responsible for the fact that they were there.
Both boys blacked out during the fight.
Harry Potter woke up under his cousin and rolled away from the fat boy as best he could in the circumstances.
The movement woke his cousin, who shrieked and curled into a ball, stuffing his hands into his mouth.
Harry groaned. His cousin's brutishness was not bravery, and here is one place where it showed.
That was when he realized that the circumstances of his surroundings had not changed. It was still dark, freezing cold, and there were two dementors shrieking in the air above him, seemingly yelling at each other. At least, that is what their body language was saying, including the circling that some people do when they get agitated.
Seeing that he, for some reason, was the pivot point of their circling, Harry decided to stay still. He searched his body for his wand, and was disappointed to find it snapped on the cement between him and Dudley. He still grabbed hold of the pieces to at least put in his pocket. He remembered Hagrid being able to do minor transfiguration with his broken pieces, but he might need a similar item to hold the pieces together if he couldn't get it repaired. Covering his mouth seemed like a smart idea, since he couldn't form a patronus at the moment, not that it would help if the other dementor would pull his hands back and freeze them in place.
A few minutes later, it seemed the discussion, whatever it was, was over.
Instead, Harry found himself as the object of curiosity. He was poked, prodded, and picked up. He fought having the hand pulled away from his mouth, but he found he was not able to fight against both creatures. He could feel his adrenaline gained strength waning as the creatures came and poked at his forehead.
The creatures apparently found him interesting, seemingly comparing notes to each other. A consensus was reached, (Seriously, it really is a human trying to eat like us and really failing.) and one of the dementors kept both of his hands down and held him upright while the other scratched open one of its hands and the top of his shoulder where the large neckline exposed it. Instead of any normal blood, the stuff that leaked out of the dementor's hand was black misty.
Harry couldn't help flinching as the black, misty, really cold, and somehow moist substance flowed into his wound on his shoulder as the dementor in front of him held its own wounded appendage on top of it. He could feel the chill running through his veins, rushing towards his heart. When he buckled, the dementor took its hand off his wound, tore a piece off one of the layers of its robes, ripped that in half, and placed them over both wounds. He was thankful the bandage the dementor supplied did warm up to where it wasn't chilly, and stuck in place like a muggle bandage for a normal minor cut or scrape.
The other dementor let go and backed off.
Harry dropped, holding his chest as the chill spread through his body as painfully as one of Vernon's really bad days, though they were thankfully rare. Thankfully, the chill seemed to dissipate after a minute, leaving him able to once again stand.
Huh. He wasn't as cold as was earlier.
Wait, am I a dementor now?
No, you're not, not really. This is the closest someone can be that was not originally a dementor to one though.
Harry shocked, looked at the one in front of him, as the foreign thought echoed through his head in an unknown voice.
Wait, you can talk?
Rude, how else do we communicate?
Sorry, I should have thought. I mean you work for the ministry, so that means you aren't wild animals.
Well, kind of, kind of not. Anyway...
A cold finger once again trailed the shape of his scar on his forehead.
That scar... holds part of some one who wishes to be our boss. We can't let you get away with that. The least we could do is let you understand and be able to be around us long term.
And we'd better get going soon.
That was again a different voice.
Harry turned to look at the one behind him.
Of course I can talk. We don't have one person able to talk to others. I'm taking you, anything you want to grab if you don't come back here again that can't be replaced?
An invisibility cloak that hasn't failed my family in ages, Hedwig, a photo album, and a map, and maybe my broom so I can fly with you? As pricey as they are, school books can be replaced at a later date.
Nah, said the one from before, may as well keep yourself occupied with something. Much of this is instincts, though it can be guided, and of course the social guidelines you will now need to follow. That won't take long, and you may as well get something to write with so that you can keep the rules on hand. Head back to your place, and get your stuff.
My stuff is mostly kept locked away in the shoe cupboard by my relatives.
Oh, don't worry your head about that. We've got our own ways to deal with locks as dementors.
Thank you, then. I'm Harry, by the way.
Don't thank us yet. You haven't seen where we're going yet, replied the second one. Now get going.
Right, said Harry as he headed out towards the Dursleys. He noticed in the corner of his eye his cousin Dudley running just slightly faster than they were walking across the road from him. He couldn't say he was overly dumb though, as he noticed that Dudley suddenly stopped and went the opposite direction and got away from the three much faster that way.
Harry got to the house just as his aunt Petunia opened the door. Obviously, she could see something, as she was looking at all three of them before she very obviously fled.
That is something that I do not think has happened before, my aunt running away from me.
Harry took a deep breath and smiled.
I am leaving the Dursleys. Finally, I am leaving the Dursleys.
Yes, you are.
I am glad you're enjoying it. Where is the cupboard?
Here, under the stairs.
Go get the stuff from your room.
Harry ran up the stairs to his room, grabbing the cage with Hedwig, stuffing his photo album into the giant pocket of the pants exactly like he had smuggled it up there, as well as his cloak. His clothes he got from Dudley... He grabbed one change of those, so that he knew he could change into in case he wasn't able to or shouldn't wear the uniforms from school for some reason and stuffing his pockets with the underwear and socks, tying the large clothes around his body. Once that was done, he headed back downstairs.
Once down, he saw that the lock was damaged and frosty and open on the cupboard. He saw the dementors waiting for him about a couple paces down the hall with the trunk on the floor by the wall with the broom lying on top of it.
"Thank you." Thank you.
You are welcome.
Put your invisibility cloak on, and grab your broom.
It's in the trunk. Sorry for the hassle.
Fine, I'll break the lock so you can open it. Be quick, the dementor said as he seemingly pulled the forming frost from the air around him and poured it into the the lock. The lock groaned as it spun and tried to freeze shut at the same time, but it was opened.
Thanks, replied Harry as he dashed forward and proceeded to unlatch the trunk, open it, grab the shimmering cloak, latch the trunk closed, and place the opened padlock in the hook of the latch as a way to keep it shut in transit better.
Harry put on the invisibility cloak, grabbed his broom, and opened the door. The one dementor picked up the trunk easily, and the other followed the other in gliding out of the house. Harry quickly closed the door.
The dementor that wasn't holding the trunk grabbed Hedwig's cage as it became obvious that Harry was fumbling.
Get on.
Thanks.
Snort.
Lucius Malfoy was surprised when, on his way to get to the Dark Lord's summons, two dementors swooped down in front of him holding a trunk and an owl, and a floating broom. His confusion only increased when the invisibility cloak shifted and suddenly Potter's head was floating above the broom.
"Hello."
One of the dementors turned towards Potter, turned towards him as he was walking around warily, and then faced the building he was about to walk into. Then the three of them went and followed him into the building.
Chaos.
Sheer Chaos.
Seriously, what was Potter thinking, bringing soul sucking demons into the same room as the Dark Lord? Other humans?
He produced his silvery shield to protect himself. Only a couple of others were doing the same.
Except, as time went by, he learned that it was the opposite, that the boy housed a soul piece not his own, and the dementors were not going to leave this phenomenon alone. In fact, they had basically adopted the boy.
How did he learn that? Besides the dementors projecting their thoughts to his Lord, Potter seemed to understand their language and sometimes said things out loud so it so those around them got a third of the conversation with the Dark Lord always and Potter half of the time speaking out loud.
He was an Unspeakable. He was currently faced with this? This is a more unique situation than he had ever seen before. He was so excited to maybe share this with his fellow work colleagues. They would have so much fun with it. Good thing that Ministry loyalty and legal status wasn't a requirement and hardly served in those guarded rooms.
He didn't serve the Ministry.
He worked to understand Magic.
Magic was like any other aspect of life. It kept giving up more secrets as you searched and was without borders. He knew that one of his colleagues was even part of the one of the street gangs in muggle London.
He couldn't keep this quiet.
He couldn't spread it to the rest of Ministry, and that was easy to avoid in his guarded lair.
He is as good as your relative.
He has part of your soul in his scar.
"You can leave him here then. I am sure that is what you wanted to do."
"Even though you've tried to kill me multiple times?"
"You are a holder of my soul, so you are to be protected for now."
"For now?"
"We are to kill each other based off a prophecy."
We will not leave him. He is as one of us, and we will not let you kill him.
"You adopted him?"
As well as we can.
"That is why I can speak with them without it being translated."
"I am sure you don't want to spend your time in prison with the rest of them."
You won't kill him?
"No, I promise to keep him alive."
Would you harm him?
"Not even a little?"
Not on purpose.
We shouldn't leave him alone among the humans I think.
Do we need both us though?
Day and night watches would require it.
After that short discussion, both darkly hooded and unmasked heads turned towards Voldemort.
We have decided we will not leave him alone at this time as we do not trust you with his health.
"Understood. Now I understand that you are keeping Potter here for the meantime?"
As his nearest relative, definitely.
We do not separate souls. We eat them whole. I do not know where you heard that parting your soul in pieces was a good idea. We are keeping him here as the nation is in talks.
So, which of us is going to go tell the King?
Harry, touch one of us in the next ten seconds.
On it.
Fine.
Harry reached over with both hands, but leaned more to the right side so he actually touched the right hand dementor.
I go to alert the King of the Dementors of what has taken place.
I'll keep watch over the newly adopted. He is not to be harmed.
Voldemort said, "Understood."
I'll see you at the latest when the sun sets.
Everyone alert watched the one dementor leave.
Voldemort grinned widely, gesturing to the Death Eaters, as they had finished assembling while the conversation had been happening.
"Friends, followers, I have news. As you know, Harry Potter has been a thorn in our side since we learned of the prophecy and I stepped out to try to eliminate the threat. As you know, he has been a formidable opponent mostly through his allies, but no more. No more are we fighting against him. Great news, for I have found a treasure where I thought to be stubborn clay. Do not attack him, for he is as a son to me. The dementors will be protecting him, so do not blame me if your attack upon him leaves you soulless. You will also be crossing me if I am in the vicinity.
"If, for some reason, the events that have transpired are not the end of the prophecy and one of us must die at the hand of the other without return, and there is no way to avoid that, you will follow the winner."
Here Voldemort glared at each of his followers, deliberately making eye contact.
"You. Will. Follow. The. Winner.
"If he requires teaching of any kind, it will be done without prejudice. If he requires healing or help of any kind, it will be done without prejudice.
"I am aware that, as of today, our goals and methods we each share may not align, but we will have to come to a compromise. There are things, goals, magic we have worked too hard for to let go of completely. Potter, too. We may align surprisingly on a few goals. We may not. We do not align completely on methods, though he is not against defending himself in any way possible. It may again be the time for a peaceful takeover, attempt the Wizengamot..."
Here he was once again menacing.
"But we will be prepared. We will not be caught without a defense and a weapon against our enemies.
"Now, who has anything to report?"
The murder of the Riddles and leaving of the majority of the servants, minus the gardener, had opened the building to a vast number of vandalisms and explorers and thrifty thieves who thought that the place was abandoned completely. Most of the furniture was gone, or beyond repair, unless it was too plain to take or not worth the effort, such as the giant, black dining room table with all 24 chairs. It was amazing that there was enough furniture and other house wares required for the two adults that had been living there. The building itself was mostly structurally sound, thanks to the gardener also taking care of the shutters and roof when he was younger and more spry.
Lucius Malfoy ended up having Voldemort and Harry Potter in his manor as guests. Actually, Peter Pettigrew was there too, but he knew that the cowardly man spent half the time in rat form so as to be able to be small enough to evade Nagini.
It was a situation he didn't want to be in, to be honest. He himself was not in best standing with the Dark Lord, even if it had worked out kind of, because the Dark Lord's diary was endangered through his actions. He knew the Dark Lord had claimed the boy as his, even though he didn't know how temporary that statement would be, but he wouldn't contest it. He knew that the Dark Lord was obsessive about protecting his belongings, and really didn't want to be the one that would set off his Lord's paranoia.
Maybe send the boy to St. Mungo's to have the knowledge of any illnesses and such like so he wasn't blamed for any problems that would come up soon? Ask that a healer be sent to the manor?
After showing the two into guestrooms, Lucius Malfoy took stock of himself.
There was a list of things that had to be done that he would need to do. First on the list was letting his family know of the guests. Second, he had to let the house elves know. Third, here he frowned, he had to address the issue of Potter's clothes. He could see what they had, if they had old clothes of Draco's that hadn't gone to charity. Fourth, he had to issue a warning to his son to not irritate Potter and try to form a truce. He had no illusions it would be hard; he himself was fighting the irritation that he had whenever he had to deal with Potter. He didn't know how the Dark Lord could be taking the sudden vanishing of a goal. Well, he had to try, and see how he could make the best of the situation.
Telling his wife and son was fairly easy. Every evening, an hour or two after supper, they would meet and discuss things, and say good night. His wife was fairly neutral about it all, her time as a hostess coming out to bear her in good stead. His son, Draco, was no surprise either with how he was upset over having his school rival being brought into his home and then told he was not to antagonize him either. He would try, though.
After that, he told the house elves. Basically, he called his head house elf and told him of both Potter's and the Dark Lord's presences. He had a house elf assigned to their housing duties, and reminded them that Harry Potter didn't have the authority to free them.
That done, he retired for the night.
Soon after breakfast the next morning, he headed to the office. The Dark Lord had claimed the main desk earlier in the morning, but he still had a desk in front of the window to do his work on, usually used by Draco when he was younger and had to do his assignments under his supervision. He stood in front of the desk.
"My lord?"
"Yes, speak up."
"I was wanting to get a healer in here, perhaps as a show of neutrality, and have them look over Potter."
Voldemort went still, from where he was looking at Lucius.
"Well, he did just get grabbed and taken here by dementors. Also, I believe it would be something that would be helpful as a way to show change of mind, even if it is grudging at the moment."
"He is important to me, Lucius, so I would want you to do what would keep him healthy. I want to have him form a good first impression, and view us in a more favourable light than what he had before. Your idea of getting a healer to look him over would be good. I wish to speak with him this morning, if you would go get him."
"Yes, my lord," said the blond as he backed up a step, then turned and left the room.
A brisk walk had him outside the door where he had left Potter. He knocked.
Harry Potter came out quickly, straightening his school uniform he had put on, minus the robe and tie of house colours. He had looked at the clothing he had brought from the Dursleys and had quickly realized that it was not something that would be in place here. He didn't want to.
"Potter, the Dark Lord wishes to speak to you."
"Lead the way, please, Mr. Malfoy."
"It's Lord. I am Lord Malfoy, not Mr. Malfoy."
"I am sorry. I didn't know."
"You don't really know much."
"No, sir, Lord Malfoy."
"Potter, there is something you need to know about what the Dark Lord really is like. He is sometimes the scary being with hardly any humanity about his actions, and he is sometimes the perfect picture of sanity. He is very obsessive about a few things, and you are one of them. Your continued survival and ability to escape him has intrigued him, and I don't know how you suddenly being in his reach will translate. People both love and fear him with reason."
"Thank you, sir, for telling me."
"I've told my son to not antagonize you. Don't start anything."
"I will do my best, sir, but we've been fighting long enough I don't know if I can promise to not fight him. I'll try not to start anything, though."
Lord Malfoy nodded in acquiescance, and led the rest of the way in silence.
"Here we are. This is the office, Potter."
"Thank you."
Lord Malfoy looked at the boy who had been following him. He nodded, and left.
Harry knocked on the heavy wood door and knocked.
"Enter", he heard called through the door.
He opened the door cautiously and the dementor floating behind him squeezed in past him. He followed.
"Hello, Voldemort."
"Hello, Mr. Potter. How was your night?"
"It was good, thank you."
Voldemort was apparently not great at idle conversation, not that Harry was the best, either, for he immediately went for more heavy stuff.
"Now, as for getting away from the graveyard, what did they tell you about our wands locking like that?"
"I was told that since we have brother wands, they won't want to fight so when they do, that happens."
"That is where I have a problem. You see, Harry, there was a prophecy spoken several months before you were born about you being the one to defeat me. Now, our wands won't fight each other. It seems that if one of us were to kill the other, the one dying would have to not fight back or use someone else's wand."
"That seems very strange."
"Now you see my conundrum."
"Do you think it was fulfilled the reason I first became famous?"
"That is a thought I have had."
Destiny and Magic are fighting each other.
The dementor hanging beside Harry suddenly spoke up.
Voldemort suddenly looked disgusted.
"Why now of all times?! How do we figure this out without killing off the majority of the wizarding folk in Britain? Usually stuff like this ends with the entire nation dead."
Death in not happy, neither is Justice.
Could that be it, then? asked Harry, "I mean, that we need to sit down and make sure justice is served as it should?"
"Furies," mused Voldemort, "are servants of Hades and are the minor gods of vows and proper legal function."
"Would getting everyone a proper trial that was in Azkaban help?"
"I fail to see how it would fix the entirety of the problem, seeing as the problem existed before you were born. Though..."
The older man trailed off in thought.
"Have you eaten yet today?"
"No, sir. I was not told when breakfast was and don't know where anything is. I had water to drink though. I am fine."
"I want you to eat lunch with us. If you ask for a house elf to show you where that is, they can show you."
"Thank you."
"Leave."
Harry got up from the chair in front of the grand desk and left the room, guard following tight on his shadow.
"Potter, are you poor enough that you are wearing school clothes here?"
Draco Malfoy sneered in Harry's direction as he entered the dining room.
"And? Why do you care?"
Harry was trying his best to ignore him, so tried to be civil. However, that didn't last.
"I don't."
"Then don't mention it. We're not all rich like you."
Draco snorted.
"We didn't miss you at breakfast, especially with your pet demon with you."
"You didn't, but someone else did."
"Oh, like the Dark Lord?"
Voldemort chose that moment to enter the room.
Harry saw him and kept quiet.
"Why are you staying quiet, Potter? Trying not to get in trouble?"
"No, your dad told me not to."
Voldemort raised an eyebrow, and took that time to sit at the table beside Harry.
Draco noticed the Dark Lord then, and said, "Hello again, sir."
"Young Mr. Malfoy, I do not believe my new wards' clothing is something that should be picked on, unless you wish to give him your own wardrobe and buy another?"
"No, sir, I..."
"No, you will do that. You will give him something to wear in perfect condition. I will not have my allies and his enemies looking at him as lesser. He is mine, now. Right now."
"Yes, sir. I will be back in five to ten minutes."
Draco scurried from the dining room as quick as he could without appearing to run.
"As for you," Voldemort's eyes pierced Harry, "You will learn all you can so that you have the manners and knowledge required of a noble so that no one has anything to look down at you for."
"Yes, sir," said Harry with a grimace. His forehead was in pain with the pressure of Voldemort's anger. "Where would I find books like that?"
"Oh, that's not in books," stated Voldemort, "You'll have to get someone to teach you."
"Well, that will be a problem because no one wants to be around me except the poor and those raised muggle like me."
"I see. Narcissa, (the lady was hovering just outside the dining room door) I have a request for you. I need you to teach Harry Potter etiquette. I cannot have my ward not knowing how to conduct himself in proper company."
"Yes, my lord."
"Good, that's settled."
The Malfoys came in as a group then. They came together to the table, and Draco split off. Draco handed Harry a light weight robe.
"Here. Wear this. I had a house elf take the rest I'm giving you to your room."
"Ah," Harry glanced at Voldemort, and seeing something in his face, put it on. He continued, "Thank you. I hope I can return it at the end of summer?"
Voldemort shook his head.
"Okay, no, I won't then. Unless there is an opportunity to buy some. Thank you."
Lord Malfoy interrupted the boys.
"Draco, sit down. Thank you, guests, for joining us in this meal."
"Thank you for the food," returned Harry.
Voldemort nodded his head.
Lord Malfoy tapped his glass, and the elves popped the food onto the table. Everyone was quiet after that due to eating.
"Father, why does Potter have to be here? We hate each other," whined Draco.
Lucius was writing on some parchment on the table in front of him. He had looked up when Draco entered the sitting room where he was working.
"I did not choose to house Potter here, Draco. The Dark Lord did."
"And you have to obey the Dark Lord."
Lucius shook his head and put his hand down. There was that whiny tone again. He didn't want to deal with Draco's pettiness right now, but it seemed he had to, he thought exasperatedly. It wasn't worth a full spanking, but he had to do something. He stood, walked behind Draco, and swatted him twice in the behind with his cane. It wasn't as if he wanted to tear the hide off his son, but to serve as a sharp reminder that he was in the wrong. He walked back in front where Draco could see him.
"Draco Malfoy. You will stop whining. I swore myself in service to the Dark Lord years before you were born. That has meant doing things I have disliked doing, because I could and it was my duty. I have been fighting to keep what we have. You live in my house and you will not get in the way of that or else you will find yourself in opposition to me."
Draco looked up again at his father. He was tense and serious, and not joking around. This was not something that he could push him on.
"Yes, Father."
"Do you understand?"
"Yes, Father."
"It has been a week, Draco. Have you been trying to get him to see you as someone he could be civil to at all in this time?"
"No," answered Draco shortly. He looked at his father, and it was still the scary face.
"I want you to. You do not have to be friends, but this animosity has to end."
"Yes, Father. Sorry, Father."
"Come here, Son."
Draco stepped forward, where his Father pulled him into a hug.
"Son, I love you. Do I wish sometimes that I had chosen differently? Sometimes. The problem was there was no one to turn to that would continue to hold the same values as we do. Maybe now is different, but I want you to really look deeply into the options you have before making a decision. Understand?"
"Yes, Father."
"Good, you can leave if you wanted."
"Can I stay with you for a bit?"
"Go ahead and grab a book. I am working on paperwork I need to get done today."
"Yes, Father."
Draco threw his father a watery smile and sat down on a chair near his father and started to read about unicorns.
The healer came a couple weeks later, due to it not being an emergency call. She was taken aback a bit by the somewhat adoption the dementors had done with Harry, but she was quickly able to become professional after that. Harry Potter needed to keep moderately active and to make sure he was eating protein in his diet, as well as the proper amount of starches, and to slowly increase the amount if he couldn't right then. He was doing great on the fruit and vegetables. She came up with a couple of stretches that should help with his muscle soreness from all the cleaning he was doing over the years. There was not much she could do about his malnutrition from his relatives, as he was already correcting it on his own over the years at Hogwarts. She did recommend a stomach soother to be taken as he wasn't used to the size of meals he used to get at Hogwarts any more. She did recommend that he not go back to the Dursleys once Harry told her where he had been living before coming here to the Malfoys.
However, due to one of the diagnosis charms, she knew something was up with Harry's scar. With promises of silence and secrecy, she brought in an Unspeakable, who had to do the same. After casting a variety of diagnosis spells on Harry, the man came to the conclusion that nope, a healer was not trained for that one.
"Huh, well..." he started, "the extra can't leave you, unless you want to die. Otherwise, you are very resistant to death. Is You-Know-Who here? I imagine he wouldn't have you at any great distance if he knew..."
"He's here," piped up Harry. "You will promise on your ability to speak you won't tell anyone else what those are, though?"
"I promise on my ability to speak that I won't tell anyone what I found without permission unless I know they already know."
"Alright. The office is this way, and where I usually find him."
"Thank you."
Knock, knock.
Silence.
Knock, knock, knock.
"Come in."
The two entered the office and sat down in front of the desk. Well, Harry and the dementor did, and the Unspeakable decided to stay standing.
"Hi, Voldemort."
"What are you doing here, brat?"
"The Unspeakable found out."
Voldemort turned towards the Unspeakable.
"Why are you here, young man?"
"I am here to check to see how much of you is currently in this room. Can I?"
Voldemort sighed.
"Go ahead. We may as well see what we can know about this whole mess."
The Unspeakable cast a bunch of diagnostics. He compared Harry's to the Dark Lord's and hummed over them before starting to scribble notes from a quill in his pocket.
"Well, I have to say that it is a good thing that the thing holding your largest piece was destroyed, because it sent you back half of yourself. I can imagine that your followers noticed, as you went from technically inhuman to insane, which was a big step towards being yourself and whole. I do not recommend anyone being less than that."
Voldemort groaned. He had forgotten what insanity Unspeakables were.
"However," the cloaked man continued, "the two pieces have not fully integrated into each other. I am sure that you will have noticed a bit of split personality yourself. There's a ritual that we will have to do to integrate them, but before we get to that, what ritual did you use to come back?"
"The tri-bond one."
"Have you formally declared yourself not an enemy of the boy's any longer recently?"
"Not exactly. I have declared him a ward and that I would no longer fight him unless it turned out we had to."
"Knowing what I know now, I understand. Well, the magic of the ritual is starting to quit but something else in your blood stream is holding it together. If I mentioned basilisk venom and phoenix tears, would that be recognizable to anybody?"
"Second year," mumbled Harry.
"Well, your second year adventure is what's holding the poor man together. I'll have to collect some blood from another of your opponents to substitute. I wonder would a regular old transfusion work? Maybe even directly applied phoenix tears?"
He took out another piece of parchment as he was running out of space.
"Harry Potter, do you know the phoenix that gave you the tears?"
"Fawkes."
"Right. Well, good news or not so good news, because you are that man's soul piece container, I will get the paper work done so that he is your guardian. He is technically a relative, but instead of bearing his DNA, you are bearing his soul."
"Will the paper work actually be considered and accepted?"
"Well, Unspeakables being what we are, not many oppose us because we are given seniority rights to a bunch of things and are treated as neutral parties in the Ministry. If I can provide enough reasons, my manager will push it through."
"Okay."
"If we're already having to deal with such rare things as phoenix tears and horcruxes and basilisks and resurrection, one of you is probably going to connect all three hallows and become properly immortal. Look up the tale of the three brothers if you haven't heard of it. It's probably in every child's library."
Voldemort was impatient. Harry knew that because it was leaking through his scar. It didn't help that he was somewhat impatient with the rambling young man in front of them who looked like they were his step into deeper knowledge.
"So I have some research to do. I will send you a note, Mr. Dark Lord, about every week or so as I find out stuff. I may have to search the Babylonian section. Hmm. Don't go killing Mr. Potter here, and I'll see you both again. Hopefully."
"Thanks for the information. Good bye."
"Good bye. Could someone please show me to the front door from here? I'm afraid I don't know the way."
"Sure," hopped up Harry.
"No, Harry," said Voldemort, "You're going to sit here and the house elf will guide him out. Flossy!"
"Oh, hello, I didn't notice you there, Dementor Tychicus."
"Flossy, please see the Unspeakable to the front gate."
Voldemort had a mild headache. Because Harry had destroyed the container for his largest and earliest Horcrux, he was sure that Dumbledore would soon know what it was. He would then determine that there were more of them as Voldemort hadn't dissipated into the after life when Harry Potter stabbed it. That meant he had to check them all.
That meant leaving Harry behind. He told Harry to stay with the Malfoys and to stay out of trouble.
Harry tried. He really, really did. It wasn't his fault he was kidnapped by Snape and taken to the Order of the Phoenix Headquarters, that also happened to be where his godfather and the Weasleys were staying. Really, it wasn't his fault at all. One minute, he was being asked to talk to Snape in the entry way, and the next, he is spinning around and landing in the middle of the side walk in a random street in London.