Embracing His True Self

Chapter 46

Harry and Voldemort waited patiently for Elsmere to disappear, the reporter met them at the Cereal Killer Café in London, what could Harry say? He had an odd sense of humour to say the least. The red painted building stood out amongst its neighbours without its quirky name. The walls were lined with cereal boxes, and Voldemort had never been more uncomfortable in his life. It barely showed, but Harry could sense it through their connection. Harry knew more about London by exploring when he had a chance now that he was actually free and able to come and go as he pleased. It was fun being able to investigate places he should have – could have – known growing up.

Both of them had glamour's up the wazoo upon their person, Elsmere knew what they looked like, well, Harry anyway, he didn't know about Tom's true features, only the inner circle knew that. Elsmere spent most of his time actually doing the work of a Private Investigator, trying to dig up any and all information he could. He wanted to find some information that Harry and the Dark Lord hadn't gotten their hands on it. Plus, when the Dark Lord gave you a task, you succeeded, nobody liked failing him. Most of them desired nothing more than to get into the inner circle, to be with the best of the best. So, yes, he would do his very best, and hopes of being rewarded.

"We will be going on lockdown before that article is published," Voldemort declared staring at the door the reporter had just exited. Just in case Dumbledore's Order or the Aurors decide to try and pick on any random family that supported the dark side in a bid to get information. The light side like to pretend they were better in every way, but the truth is they played just as dirty as the other side.

"Lockdown?" Harry arched an eyebrow as he glanced swiftly at Voldemort, surprise splashed across his face, "As in what it sounds like? That sort of lockdown?" absently pushing his empty cup and saucer away with his fingers, the café was practically empty they didn't need to worry about being overheard. It's why he'd chosen this particular one, at this specific time, this was it's quiet time. Wondering if that had been done before, "You do that often?" he had to ask. He hadn't heard it even remotely mentioned at all in the time he'd been at Slytherin estate.

"Been decades since I did it last," Voldemort admitted shrewdly. "My Knights and their families were brought to a safe location." He was still gaining his powers and finding his place within the wider magical community after leaving Hogwarts. The safe location wasn't his estate, but one Abraxas had assured him was completely safe.

"Now I'm curious…what did you do to cause you of all people to back down?" Harry asked, green eyes gleaming wickedly.

Voldemort shifted at the look, a spasm of discomfort disclosing on his face, "Abraxas Malfoy may have had something to do with the Death of the Minister of magic…in an overzealous attempt to impress," His voice barely audible as he revealed this titbit of information. "Nobby Leach was the first Muggle-Born Minister of Magic," confirming Harry's suspicions than the Minister of magic must have been either a threat or lesser blood.

"Of course," Harry murmured, slightly exasperated, what a waste of magical blood, at least Voldemort had conceded the errors of his ways. "So…lockdown?"

"Not here," Voldemort stated suddenly, as always, his paranoia and suspicion forcing him to ensure safety above all things. Sitting vulnerable in Muggle London wasn't his idea of safe, you just didn't know what or who was watching you or listening to you. There were a whole host of magical devises that could be used in the vicinity. He would not risk Dumbledore getting what he wanted – which was him proven to be back – no, he wouldn't let anything get in the way of Dumbledore's comeuppance, his due punishment.

"What exactly happened to him anyway?" Harry queried as he easily and swiftly caught up with Voldemort's long strides as they walked out of the café, the money had jerkily been left under the saucer he'd used and a hell of a tip too.

"Dragon Pox," Voldemort informed him, knowing Harry well enough to know he definitely wasn't asking about how the Minister of Magic had died. "Before the vaccine was created, at his age…he didn't stand a chance." Turning into a side street, he grasped a hold of Harry and apparated them both to a field, checking themselves to ensure they hadn't been tracked before Apparating home.

"When the hell did, he die if it was before the vaccine?" Harry gawped in surprise, "Just how new is the Dragon Pox vaccine?" he muttered under his breath, making a mental note to find out. A better question is, was he actually vaccinated? Or was he abandoned at the Dursley's before he was old enough to receive it?

"Relatively new, the older generation did not inoculate against it, due to the fact it was barely passed its experimental stages," Voldemort confessed, finally relaxing for the first time since they'd gone out. Trusting his own wards completely to be able to let his guard down at least slightly. "Many chose to inoculate their children, saving their lives in the progress. Dragon Pox was a horrid disease and even more horrific way to die. Your magical core slowly drained, as you were unable to keep much of anything down, dizziness, weakness, spasms, until there was nothing left of the person you once knew. Abraxas was one of those people, he wasn't one for caring about potions, or anything medical related. He stopped all donations that his father, Brutus, had made to St. Mungo's upon his father's death."

Harry didn't bother to question how Voldemort knew all this. Since he knew Voldemort's penchant for listening to absolutely everything, and then storing it away just in case it ever came in handy. "An epidemic? There aren't many older generation wizards or witches left…or did you get rid of them all?" being more sarcastic than serious at this point. He slid into his usual seat that he had silently reserved for himself when he was in Voldemort's office. It was right next to the fireplace, which was always lit up keeping the room comfortably warm.

"It did wipe out many wizards," Voldemort conceded, "And there are many more than you realize, most are just retired and living their lives, when exactly do you expect to see them? Waving off their grandchildren or Great-Grandchildren at Hogwarts? Or actually attending the school at an advanced age?" retorting with sarcasm of his own, as he sat down with a wry look on his face.

"Good point," Harry conceded, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, "I've only ever seen maybe two or three wizards who could be classed as the elder generation, which doesn't include you." Dumbledore, of course, Filch, Sprout although they might be a bit too young to be considered truly elderly. There was Dumbledore's brother, Neville's Gran, he had been wondering at the lack of grandparents that he'd seen. They were using the term 'wizards' in a unisex way, for both wizards and witches.

Voldemort nodded curtly, seeing it from Harry's point of view, it certainly would seem that there weren't many wizards of an advanced age around. However, he expected better of Harry, yet he shouldn't have, after all he wasn't all knowing, clearly some areas were still in desperate need of covering. He would find that out himself once he realized how many people were going to be around during his lockdown. He'd probably be sick of the sight of them within a few hours and wanting to escape. The thought certainly amused him so, as his lips unconsciously twitched in a rare show of his genuine emotions.

"You seriously think you need to have us going on a lockdown?" Harry asked, his brow furrowed, "Do you foresee the Order retaliating by what…hunting every single one of us down?" leaning back against the chair his arms crossed as he tapped his foot in quiet contemplation. "While the Order don't seem to care for the law…and are all too happy to break it…it's a trite different to think they'd start hunting people down in small gangs to get back at us," the idea did amuse him so.

"You truly don't realize the anarchy that follows home truth's, do you?" Voldemort said wryly, "Do you believe the Aurors merely hunted down Barty, Rabastan, Rodolphus and Bellatrix and handed them into the Ministry?"

Harry froze, "Well, I…I hadn't really thought about it." It did seem stupid when it was put like that.

"Oh, no, they weren't just heavy handed with them, they got their own retribution," Voldemort said icily, "But of course, nobody cared, they were just filthy 'Death Eaters' after all. Nor did anyone care about the innocent witches and children who died in the Auror's path to getting their revenge as they scoured the countryside looking for them."

After a few moments of stiff silence, Voldemort spoke again, "It isn't the first time the Aurors had been 'overzealous' in the pursuit of justice that caused the death of people." Thinking of his good friend who had lost a wife, the Lestrange brothers who had lost a little sister a family almost broken by their grief. Nobody was innocent, neither his Death Eaters nor the Auror's but the Auror's were supposed to be after all. They were there to police the magical world, to set an example.

Leaning forward, "Do you know if any of the Auror's are guilty of something like that? I mean this batch," Harry asked, a thoughtful look on his face, showing the things the Auror's have done…dragging them down to the Death Eaters' level…it would be devasting for the general public. It would make them question if they were any better…which of course, they weren't actually at the end of the day. Less and less people were becoming Aurors' according to his information Tonks was the only one in the past decade to get through the training. The only reason she actually got through was because of her abilities far outweighed the negatives of having the witch as part of their Auror team. She'd actually failed quite a few of the 'courses' the fact she got in just because she was a Metamorphmagus was damning. Hell, they even used her family against her, as if there was something diseased about being a Black! He had been quite incensed when he read the classified information by Moody and the Minister of Magic – Cornelius Fudge – not so classified if he'd gotten his hands on it but he had contacts now who could get him whatever he needed. He didn't always have to rely on Voldemort to help.

"Moody and Kenyon with one hundred percent certainty, they're old school," Voldemort said, steeping his fingers together as he observed Harry curiously. He knew the boy well enough to know he was already planning something in that beautiful mind of his. He'd never had anyone who could think the way he did, or so quickly until now. "The Aurors in the Order have most certainly done the same…but will have better covered their tracks." They couldn't have vigilante justice signs waving around after all, the Ministry didn't approve of that.

"How many are in the Order again?" Harry asked, scribbling names on a spare piece of parchment.

"Three, two on active duty, one retired, Doge was a recruit for the force before he became a member of the Wizengamot and never formally completed his training, but he could be considered an honorary one, but that was even before my time." Voldemort stated dryly, Harry was already aware of this. "Get everything done by the end of tonight, we go on lockdown for at least a week."

"I don't know If I'll get away with that, Sirius will want to see me on my birthday," Harry said thoughtfully. Already thinking up ideas on what to tell his godfather. Hmm, his friends were throwing him a party, no doubt that would make Sirius very happy.

"Then visit today," Voldemort warned him, he wasn't taking no for an answer. "You may also want to get yourself new dress robes," the ones he had probably no longer fitted.

Harry stiffened, eyeing Voldemort cautiously, "Why?" not liking the sound of that, he was positive he heard an underlying sound of glee in Voldemort's tone.

"At least four, you will be attending the parties that are hosted by our own, it's not only a boost for moral but it allows those of us who don't interact actually get to know the other." Voldemort stated. Yes, he listened to Harry, and he was quite correct, it would build loyalty and rapport. His way of doing things worked fine enough, but he didn't want fine he wanted the best. Having them competing with each other he was beginning to find out wasn't conductive or conducive to a cohesive unit. His obsessions with the Prophecy and declining mental state back then so embarrassed him still. He was still trying to correct his many mistakes, but he'd get there. He made sure to do it his way though, the pureblood way. No holiday was more important than Samhain, all hallows eve, regretfully he doubted the boy would ever wish to celebrate that holiday.

He may just be surprised.

Harry's lip curled, his distaste evident, he made no secret to his aversion to such a plan. "Hell no," Harry proclaimed.

Voldemort just stared right back, he wasn't going to take no for an answer, "You will attend them," he warned the teenager, "You will also attend a party in your name, think of it as a coming out party, where I introduce you to all the Death Eaters and those who support our cause." He didn't let just anyone become a Death Eater, and he also didn't force the issue contrary to popular belief. He left those alone who did not fight him, those who were neutral or dark families who had no actual interest in war.

"Getting a little ahead of yourself there, aren't you?" Harry muttered dryly.

"Are we going to pretend you're not as dark as the families who support my cause? Pretend you don't want me to win this war?" Voldemort asked icily. He loathed the games Harry liked to play, especially regarding his allegiance.

Harry sobered up a little, "I do not like being in the public eye, Voldemort," Harry said seriously, "I never will, I loathe the very idea of it." Revealing what was really bothering him about what Voldemort was saying.

"And that is why you should do it, embrace your fame, use it for your ends, at the end of the day…you have power at your fingertips that could change the world…power that most people could only dream out in their deepest darkest desires." Voldemort said, his voice seductive.

Harry just grinned wryly, very much aware of Voldemort's tactics and not buying into them even though it was tempting. Voldemort just had the ability to get under your skin, make you believe the ideas were your own. He'd seen it and quite frankly it was breath-taking to observe and annoying when he tries to pull it over him.

"Why are you so adverse to using your fame for your own ends?" Voldemort groused, although he'd deny it to his dying breath. "It's nothing different from using others to hide your own inclinations,"

"Now you're making me sound perverted," Harry said huffing out an amused chuckle as he stood up, opening the window to let Hedwig in.

He moved to sit back down, and opened the missive, "Ooo, she's awake and extremely pissed," Harry muttered, green eyes gleaming victoriously, "Whatever Dumbledore did…didn't work on her either." She remembered everything according to Neville. If Voldemort was going on lockdown…then Harry was going to have to meet everyone and let them know he'd be absent for a few days. He presumed letters would also not be able to be sent off whilst in lockdown. He would need a good way to spin it, especially for Sirius, it was his birthday after all.

"Does it say what she intends to do?" Voldemort asked, too many outside influences made him extremely leery. Especially when it came to Dumbledore and their plans.

"No, I'll find out soon enough," Harry declared. "I'm going to assume you aren't coming?" Augusta Longbottom had attended Hogwarts with 'Tom Riddle' and no doubt was aware of whom he became. One look and she'd either assume it was a son or the wizard himself. Neither would be a good thing right now, not in the light of her attack, she might try to persuade herself that her memories had been tampered with after all. She didn't seem like the kind of woman who would believe in such delusions and trusted her own mind but still, better be safe than sorry.

"No, I must get everyone here before first light tomorrow morning," Voldemort stated, and that would be time consuming. Thankfully not much of a requirement where time was concerned on himself, it would be the families who were to come here that would be busy this afternoon.

Harry nodded; he'd suspected as much. "Alright, I'll see you later,". It was suddenly dawning on him that it was going to be a very long day. Between visiting Neville, getting robes then visiting Sirius and Remus…he'd be lucky to get back until late evening. The tailoring of the robes would take a while, maybe he should tend to that first, pick them up once he was done for the night.

One thing living under really strong wards, he'd never become unfit, as he moved swiftly through the manor to get to the end of the wards so he could apparate.

An hour after leaving the manor, he'd gotten the required fancy robes, with differences so that it didn't look like he was wearing the same robes over and over again. which had been emphasised by the tailor a dozen times. Harry gratefully escaped the clutches of them, pretty sure they were determined to make him buy more than the four robes he'd originally wanted. Which they'd actually succeeded at, here he was able to stare down Voldemort but couldn't withstand merciless tailors trying to get him to spend his money worth. They must have seen him coming. Then apparated to Longbottom manor, he couldn't access the house, just to the edge like before, and yes, the Fidelius charm was still up, he was no longer the keeper of secrets. He had been told where the manor was thanks to Neville.

"You look really well, Nev, how are you really doing?" Harry asked, as he made his way up the steps smiling at his friend.

"Harry!" Neville called out happily, "Come on in, can I get you something?"

Harry laughed a little, "I wouldn't mind a coffee," he said pleased, Neville had lost a significant amount of weight, Grant had suggested a work out and it had definitely worked wonders for the teenager. Grant hadn't said what had gone down between the two of them, what had been said, and that was fair enough.

"How's your Gran?" Harry asked as he followed Neville through the now familiar home, bypassing the games room and making his way into one of the sitting rooms.

Neville laughed humourlessly, "Bloody pissed, it's a good job she can't get up yet otherwise she'd already be at the Ministry. I left her reading all the news clippings I saved of the Daily Prophet since we…well we were attacked." He was just glad she had actually begun recovering, even if it was taking longer than it should. "Almost like we deserved it for being…" he paused here, not able to think up a good enough way to word it.

"Too fond of Dumbledore?" Harry finished for him simplifying it.

"Let's go with that," Neville agreed, a worn-out look appearing on his face. Rubbing at his face tiredly. The betrayal he still felt dragged him down and made him feel so much doubt and self-disgust. Dumbledore could have killed him and his Gran…they'd nearly died and not at the hands of Death Eaters or anything like that but a wizard he'd respected…a wizard his Gran knew and sort of respected. The attack hadn't been much of a shock to her as it had been to him. She never questioned her memories; she didn't go into denial she'd just gone straight to pissed off.

Harry said nothing, feeling a smidgen of guilt…how would Neville feel when and if he found out about his loyalties? Dumbledore had already changed Neville from his trusting happy bubbly self. What would his perceived betrayal do to Neville? Should he back away now so that it didn't hurt so much? Yet, as much as he thought about it…he couldn't force himself to. Just like he couldn't do it to Remus and Sirius. He was fond of them all, and wanted them in his life…for as long as he was able to have them.

"Be right back," Neville said, before leaving the sitting room.

Harry just waved him off, staring out at the distance. He had no idea how long his allegiance would be safe from discovery. He wasn't ashamed, far from it, he was just…he had people he cared about on the opposite side. Or had been, Neville and he hadn't spoken about it, but Neville would never go dark, or neutral, not after what happened to his parents. He understood really, he reckoned he'd lose Sirius and Remus too, but again, he wanted them in his life as long as possible.

By the time Neville returned, Rose had brought some refreshments in, and Harry was quietly chatting away to her. Neville smiled; he had a closer relationship than his gran approved of with the house-elves too. Mostly due to the fact he was an only child, he'd cherished them in a way the likes of Malfoy would never. It was nice to see that it wasn't only him that treated them with care and respect. "Thank you, Rose."

"Everything okay?" Neville asked, frowning.

"I'm going to be out of the country for a few days, which includes my birthday, so don't send your owl, the poor thing will expire before he gets there." Harry teased him, well, not exactly Neville's owl, his grandmothers, but he still used it. The owl was unfortunately, rather old now, but only just younger than Errol, the Weasley's owl. "I've also brought yours." Handing over the brightly coloured present over, it was covered in a magical plant, not one Harry himself recognized but he knew Neville would like it.

"Oh," Neville said, eyes wide.

"Listen if you don't have anything don't worry about it, I know how things have been, I know you've been through hell lately." Squeezing Neville's hand in reassurance and he meant every word. He was used to not getting anything out of spite, not getting anything due to circumstances beyond Neville's control was different.

"No, I actually got Rose to go get a bunch of stuff we needed, literally just this morning," Neville said with a laugh, "Very lucky timing, Rose!"

The house-elf in question popped in, gazing adoringly at her human.

"Can you get the gift that's on my table in my bedroom for me please? It's Harry's birthday gift, can you wrap it for me, there should be a card there too." Neville told her, really grateful he'd had Rose go for it earlier.

"Are you going back to Hogwarts?" Harry asked Neville quietly, he honestly wouldn't be surprised if Neville didn't want to. It was a hell of a thing to be away from his gran alone with the wizard who had attacked them.

Neville paled, "I don't think so." He confessed, "Not…not unless Dumbledore…is, well, is gone." Shaking his head, looking rather sick to his stomach just thinking about it.

Harry nodded, "I get it, mate it's not something I wished we had in common,"

"I'm the first Longbottom to never take their NEWTS or graduate from Hogwarts." Neville said, lips twisting in displeasure.

"You can still take your NETWS, self-study, Nev." Harry straightened staring him in the eye, drinking his coffee. "It will probably help you more than you realize to go at your own pace. Hell, start an apprenticeship and gain your Masters in herbology sooner. Become the youngest Herbologist in the magical world. Stop listening to anyone that wants to bring you down, just be yourself, mate, you're awesome."

Neville flushed red at the compliments, most definitely not used to them. "I can't risk going anywhere in public."

"You've got some of the rarest plants in the world in your greenhouses, right? Entice a Herbology Master to come and live in the estate while you gain your qualifications. Explain what's going on after making them sign a non-disclosure agreement." Harry suggested, honestly, perhaps Hermione had been right, logic wasn't magical people strong suit.

Rose popped in, handing over the gift, and Harry reciprocated in kind.

"You didn't have to," Neville said, warmth pooling in his stomach, he didn't receive many birthday gifts, he didn't have many friends. This was…unexpected but very, very appreciated. "Thank you, Harry," he murmured unconsciously stroking the package reverently. The paper had even been bought with him in mind, there was no other reason Harry would have plant birthday paper.

"Course I did," Harry said, "Just think about it, alright? You'll probably be finished your apprenticeship before you'd have graduated Hogwarts."

"I will," Neville promised with a smile, he glanced at the biscuits but told himself no, sternly. He'd already had a biscuit today; he didn't need so many. He had to come out excess food if he wanted to remain fit and healthy. Grant had been amazing, professional and really kind to him when he'd asked. He'd always been on the chubby side, and he wanted to get a girlfriend and have a family. Merlin, he didn't want his gran setting up a betrothal for him because he couldn't get a girlfriend.

"Where's your Gran?" Harry asked, as he sat back down.

"Um…she was in the drawing room," Neville explained, "She may be in the business room though," she had a lot of paperwork to catch up on in the time she'd taken to recuperate. She still hadn't fully recovered from the attack; she shouldn't be up and about but his gran was so stubborn.

"Is it alright if I go talk to your Gran," Harry suggested.

"Sure, would you prefer it be a private meeting?" Neville asked, not even slightly confused as to why he'd want to speak to his gran. He was Lord Potter and Lord Black, it could be business or anything and until he became Lord Longbottom, it was nothing to do with him. He'd long since gotten used to people coming and going to see his grandmother about things.

"Yeah, I'll come find you after I'm done," Harry said, he made his way to the drawing room to see Lady Augusta Longbottom. The last time he'd seen her…well, he wouldn't be surprised she didn't want him here.

He was about to find out regardless.

"I'll be in the library," Neville called out to him, waiting on Harry's nod before he left for the library, his gift still clutched in his hands gratitude and sheer happiness. It could be the shittiest gift in the world, but Neville wouldn't care, right now the thought mattered more than all the gold in the world.

R&R