"Why are you stalking me again?" Harry asked as he gently patted down the fresh soil around the young blue rose vine.
The wizard hiding behind a nearby bush shifted nervously, but didn't answer.
Harry rolled his eyes and moved on to the cluster of daffodils. Strangely, he didn't much mind being stalked at the moment. Perhaps because there wasn't a single mundane living within almost two miles of the cottage. Then again, perhaps it was really because he'd stolen another wand from a nasty part-veela down in Knockturn just yesterday that fit him almost as well as his holly wand and he had it shoved in his back pocket.
"I suppose that why isn't really the question, knowing how hard-headed old Voldie can get," Harry said, smirking when he heard the surprised sound at the rude name for Voldemort. "The real question is, 'Why do you think you can actually hide from me'?" He grabbed a handful of dirt from the bucket at his side, then tossed it towards the hidden Death Eater.
"Bloody–!" Barty jumped to his feet, giving up all pretensions of hiding. "These are my best robes!"
Harry raised an eyebrow at him. "If those are your best robes, you need to go shopping." He pulled off his gloves and swiftly got to his feet. "What does Voldemort want this time? Other than for me to send a Death Eater back in pieces."
Barty shuddered. "He just wants me keeping an eye on you. I honestly don't know why! Please don't kill me?" He turned wide, pitiful eyes on the boy.
Harry sighed and massaged his forehead. "You're lucky I'm in a good mood today," he muttered. "Just don't let Sirius see you."
"I will be like a mouse, silent and completely beneath anyone's notice," Barty promised before crouching behind the bush again.
Harry sighed again, then pulled his gloves back on so he could return to his garden-tending. "You can't tell me that's comfortable."
"...I almost died in Azkaban," Barty reminded him, "and then I spent years under my father's Imperius. This isn't that bad, really."
Harry thought back to his months-long escape from the mundanes. "I suppose that's a good point."
They were both silent while Harry finished with his garden. As the boy was standing, Barty asked, "I don't suppose you'd be willing to get me a sandwich?"
Harry laughed and grabbed his bucket before walking inside, shaking his head.
"What's got you in such a good mood?" Sirius asked, poking his head out of the living room. Harry heard the static from the telly and the quiet music he associated with a video game on pause.
"Crazy snake out in the garden," Harry replied cheerfully.
Sirius shuddered and ducked back into the living room.
Harry chuckled at his godfather's phobia and put his gardening things away in the hall closet before going into the kitchen. Barty's plea for food had reminded him that it was lunchtime and he could use some food himself. He threw together a couple sandwiches, grabbed a small handful of crisps from the opened bag on the counter and pulled out two bottles of water before making his way back outside. "Eating outside!" he called as he shuffled the food and drinks to open the front door.
"No snakes in the house!" Sirius called back.
Harry rolled his eyes and wandlessly summoned the door closed behind him once he was on the stoop. He made his way over to a tree that wasn't far from the bush Barty was hiding behind and relaxed against the trunk. "Sirius is currently being distracted by Solomon's Key 2, so you can come eat some if you'd like," Harry offered, picking up a sandwich.
Barty peeked out from behind the bush, looked around the property, then scuttled over to the tree.
Harry covered his mouth and tried really hard not to choke.
"Thanks," Barty mumbled, putting the tree between himself and the house as he grabbed a sandwich. When Harry held out one of the bottles of water, the man's face lit up and he left his sandwich on his knee in favour of the drink.
"You know, Voldie never did answer me at the Ball when I asked him how much longer he's planning to hide out for," Harry commented before popping a crisp in his mouth.
Barty's eyes flickered towards Harry before returning to his lunch. "He mentions breaking into Azkaban every once in a while, since most of our people are in there, but he's also been working on recruiting from the ex-students that weren't open to him during the last war. He's also trying to bring everyone back into the fold without alerting Dumbledore."
"Hm." Harry tapped his chin. "You were freed when your mother took your place, right?"
"Yeah." Barty shot him a suspicious look. "How do you know that, anyway?"
"I have mad skillz," Harry replied absently, still thinking. "I might have a way to break the Death Eaters out of Azkaban without anyone the wiser, but it'll take some time for me to set up."
"How much time?" Barty wondered.
"Mmm... Maybe two weeks? I can probably do it sooner than that, but I don't want to push my luck. For all that I get away with a lot around Sirius, he'll eventually notice my sneaking out to do naughty things." Harry flashed Barty a mad little smile.
Barty shuddered slightly. "Do you require assistance?"
"Voldie sent you to try and figure out my secrets, didn't he?" Harry wondered, having guessed that was the aim as soon as he sensed Barty behind the bush. When the Death Eater winced in response, Harry chuckled. "He's so predictable. No, you'd only get in my way. Tell your Lordship he needs to be more Slytherin than that to find anything out."
Barty sighed. "He's going to Crucio me again."
"You're the one who decided to work under a mad man."
"Says the equally mad child," Barty retorted.
Harry grinned. "Well, yes, but I don't toss around the Cruciatus like it's a sweet, either."
Barty snorted. "You're a little young to have mastered the Unforgivables."
"Hmm... Maybe," Harry replied knowingly, then asked, "Has he brought Snape back into the mix? I know he at least suspects something is up if his Mark is acting up, but has he been Called?"
Barty shot him another suspicious look. "You know a disturbing number of things for an almost-thirteen year old raised by muggles."
"I am a Ravenclaw," Harry reminded him.
Barty snorted, then shook his head. "My Lord is being careful about Snape, since it's a little hard to know for sure which side he's on."
"Good choice," Harry commented. "And he's on Dumbledore's side."
"There's no way you could know that for sure."
"I am omniscient," Harry announced. "I know all things without question."
"You're full of shit."
"Yeah, I am," Harry agreed, smiling and wiggling to scratch an itch on his back with the tree trunk behind him. "Anyway, Snape had this crazy-mad crush on my mum, so he asked Voldie to spare her life. Now, Voldie tried, sure, but Mum wasn't the sort of person to just step to one side and let anyone kill her son, so he had to kill her. Snape thinks he was betrayed – and it's partially his fault, anyway, since he's the one that reported the bloody prophecy to Voldie in the first place – so he turned to Dumbledore who promised him retribution, forgiveness, and a free pass out of Azkaban.
"Anyway, only two people alive know that Voldie tried to spare my mum, and he's not about to admit that he tried to spare a mudblood, and I'm not really on speaking terms with Snape. So he's still all betrayed and stuff. Probably best to just let him wonder what's going on for now."
Barty shook his head, a little disturbed. "You know, I don't think I want to know how you figure these things out, really. It'll probably scar me for life."
"Whatever doesn't kill us makes us stronger," Harry retorted.
"Harry! Phone!" Sirius shouted out the living room window.
Harry rolled his eyes and gathered the leftovers from lunch. "Tell Voldemort I'll come find him when everything is set up to get his people out of Azkaban. And if he sends you to stalk me again, do the smart thing and go torture a couple deserving mundanes instead," he told Barty before standing and making his way back into the cottage. "Who is it?" he yelled at Sirius.
"Terry!"
"Cool!" He ran through the front door and absently banished his dishes into the kitchen before bouncing into the living room to pick up the phone. "Hi! What's up?"
"How long can I stay at your place?" Terry whispered.
Harry's eyes narrowed, but he kept his voice light. "As long as you want, of course. Though if you try stealing the NES, Sirius might kick you out, but we've got a couple of brooms in the shed, so you could fly around the backyard until he calms down and lets you back inside. Oh! And there's the library, too. Sirius never goes in there unless he's desperate, so it's actually the quietest room in the house."
Terry let out a strained laugh. "Cool."
Harry dropped the easy-going act. "Is your trunk packed? I can send Sirius over to get you right now." He glanced over at his godfather and saw that Sirius had put down the game and was watching with a worried frown. He'd already heard stories about Terry's brother.
"Uhm, yeah, please?" Terry requested.
Harry nodded. "Where are you?"
"Neighbour's. Number twenty-six."
Harry glanced at Sirius. "Two doors over on the left," he directed, then turned back to the phone as Sirius apparated. "He'll be there directly."
"Thanks, Harry."
"Hey, that's what crazy friends are for," Harry replied with a smile before hanging up. Once the phone was back in the cradle, he growled a bit. Maybe he'd add Terry's brother to the mundanes he'd switch out with the Azkaban Death Eaters. A life sentence in that hell-hole sounded like a fantastic punishment for his friend's abusive older brother.
Harry knew from his previous life that there were approximately twenty Death Eaters locked up in Azkaban at this moment in time. He also knew there was a chance that some of the other prisoners might be inclined to escape, so he planned for about thirty mundanes, including Vernon Dursley, but not Terry's brother. He would suck the souls out of them – except for Vernon, his uncle could suffer the dementors – then set them up in an empty underground area he'd created out in the woods with enough food and water to stay alive for a couple weeks.
A potion that a Potions Master had created in his last life shortly before the Mundane-Magical War would enable them to change the appearance of the mundanes to that of the prisoners they'd be taking the place of. The potion's only real down-side was that there was no antidote to turn you back into your normal form, but that wouldn't be a problem here. The potion took a week to brew, then all it needed was a drop of blood from the person you were turning into.
Judicious use of his stolen time-turner allowed Harry to finish his preparations without either Terry or Sirius' knowledge. The only inkling that either of them got about Harry being up to no good was when he asked Terry if he'd be sad if his brother died. On one hand, Harry understood familial bonds, having raised a family of his own, but his mistreatment at the hands of his own mundane relatives made him understand that familial bonds weren't all that important in the grand scheme of things. But Terry still loved his brother on some level and didn't want the boy dead, so Harry had grudgingly decided to leave him alone. (Of course, the first time he heard even the slightest hint of real hatred in Terry's voice when he spoke of his brother, his life would be forfeit. It was just a matter of time.)
Harry's preparations were completed a few days before the two-week limit he'd given Barty, but Harry used his extra time to ensure everything would go well. He also enjoyed a few rounds of the Cruciatus cast on his uncle, revelling in his screams like he'd never done with any of his victims previously.
Finally, Harry's two weeks were up. He waited for his godfather and Terry to fall asleep – a dose of a sleeping draught in some fresh-baked cookies had helped – then turned his time-turner back three hours so he could have extra time to plan with the Dark Lord. He debated for a bit about who to go as, but eventually decided it would be easiest for everyone involved if he went as Xerosis. Voldemort already knew who he was and Barty would probably figure it out without too much trouble, but keeping Harry Potter's name away from this venture would be the safer course.
When Xerosis shadowed into Voldemort's dark room, the Dark Lord was meeting with a few of his minions. As he had before, Xerosis leaned back against the wall and waited for Voldemort to notice him.
It didn't take the man long, thankfully. "Xerosis, I was wondering if you would be joining us," he hissed, red eyes lighting up when they landed on the apparent vampire in the corner.
Xerosis stepped lightly from his corner and smirked. "I have thirty mundanes ready to take the places of any in Azkaban you want to free," he offered.
Voldemort nodded, looking pleased. "Excellent."
"Excuse me, my Lord?" Barty murmured, eyeing Xerosis suspiciously as the boy came to stand next to the Dark Lord's chair.
"Go on, Barty."
"How do you intend to keep the muggles from being discovered? Polyjuice only lasts an hour, and glamours can only stand up for so long."
Voldemort looked curiously at Xerosis, who only smirked a little wider at him and commented, "That's a secret, I'm afraid."
The Dark Lord scowled, which earned him a chuckle from the boy next to him, then hissed, "Boy–"
"It wouldn't be any use to you anyway," Xerosis allowed, "since the change is permanent. About the only thing it's good for is taking someone's place for the rest of your life."
"My Lord," Walden Macnair spoke up, "how will we know the muggles won't make a fuss? They're quite loud when they're scared, after all." He looked quite pleased at that comment, obviously being the sort to enjoy making them scared.
"I suppose you could say I've stolen their voices," Xerosis mused. "Well, one of them can still think for himself, as much as he ever could, but a silencing charm should keep him busy until we're finished. Once we're gone, it won't much matter what he says; the guards will think it just the mad ravings of a prisoner." He smiled widely, flashing his false fangs.
"Was there anything you didn't think of?" Barty wondered a bit sarcastically and Xerosis knew the man had figured out who he was.
"But of course. I haven't figured out how you're getting the prisoners off the island, what you'll do with them, or even how we will be getting there to do the switch." He flashed a winning smile at Voldemort, who seemed more amused than irritated at the moment. "I thought I'd give you something to use your genius mind for."
"A compliment?" Voldemort replied. "How unlike you." Xerosis chuckled while the man stood. "Lucius, I trust you have the portkeys I requested?"
Lucius nodded as the three Death Eaters took their cue from the Dark Lord and also stood. "I have them in my pocket, my Lord."
"Excellent." Voldemort turned to the boy next to him. "Are you capable of apparating?"
"Yes. I assume we're going to the dock?" Xerosis replied. He noticed Barty twitch out of the corner of his eye and wasn't sure if it was due to the thought of returning to Azkaban, or the thought that a not-quite-thirteen-year-old could apparate and knew enough about Azkaban to safely apparate there.
"That's correct. Lucius?"
Lucius nodded and concentrated for a moment. They all felt the anti-apparation wards around the room fall and quickly apparated out.
Xerosis grimaced as he landed on the dock, already feeling the effects of the dementors. He tightened his Occlumency and glanced around at the others as Lucius finally showed up, having fixed the wards on the room before leaving himself. "How do you intend to move past the dementors?" he asked the Dark Lord as Barty let out a faint whimper.
Voldemort glanced at his people and sighed. "The dementors will answer to me, no question," he informed Harry as he absently called his patronus, a large snake. "The problem comes when you're attended by those who can't even stand to get close to them."
Xerosis shrugged and added his own patronus, a glowing owl. "If you want to take Macnair and deal with the dementors, I'll take Lucius and Barty and start trading the mundanes for the prisoners."
Voldemort eyed the two patroni as they shot glares at one another, then nodded and looked back at the Death Eaters. "Lucius, Barty, go with Xerosis and deal with the prisoners. Walden, you'll come with me to talk with the dementors."
Lucius cleared his throat. "My Lord, who will be in charge of our party?" he requested, glancing at the boy at the Dark Lord's side a bit uncomfortably.
Voldemort glanced at Xerosis as well and the boy met his look with a silent challenge: Would Voldemort allow him power over his people and claim Xerosis as his equal, or would he give in to his pride and give Lucius or Barty the position of power? "Xerosis will be in charge," Voldemort decided, turning back to Lucius so he wouldn't have to see the victory reflected in the pale eyes.
Lucius scowled, but one look at the apparent vampire's warning glare kept him from complaining.
The two groups separated, attended by their patroni as they made their ways into the prison proper. Xerosis' group only ran into one dementor and the owl patronus had let out a silent screech as it drove the Dark creature away.
Once Barty indicated they were approaching their destination, Xerosis stopped them. "Start gathering the prisoners up while I collect the mundanes. Don't start sending them back to the manor until I've returned." He shot Lucius a pointed look, familiar enough with the man's son to guess what he was thinking, then turned to his patronus. "Hedwig, love, stay here and keep the dementors away, okay?"
Hedwig nodded her head and circled the area, sharp eyes looking for a foe.
Xerosis shadowed to the area where he'd been keeping the mundanes and slipped a number of vials of the potion into his pocket before grabbing the two nearest mundanes and shadowing them back to Azkaban. He wasn't sure if Barty had been keeping an eye on Lucius or if the blond had simply decided it best to not test Xerosis' patience, but the prisoners were standing together in in middle of the hallway, quietly trading hugs with family who'd been out of reach for over ten years.
"Barty! Lucius!" Xerosis hissed and the two men slipped through the gathering and met up with him, both eyeing the dead-eyed mundanes warily. "Stay," he ordered the mundanes before letting go and reaching into his pocket for the potion and pulling out two vials. "One drop of blood, no more, no less, in each vial from the person they're turning into. Tell the mundanes to drink it and they will. Make sure they go back in the correct cell."
"Understood," both men agreed, so Xerosis handed over the vials, then shadowed back to get more.
Things continued smoothly until Xerosis finally picked out Vernon, who wasn't as afraid of Xerosis as he'd become of Harry. He tried snatching his arm away when Xerosis shadowed him, but the boy had a firm grip on Vernon's wrist and all that happened was he pulled his arm a bit. When they appeared in Azkaban, Vernon again tried getting away, only to run into Voldemort, who grabbed him by his fat neck and picked him off the floor with one hand.
"What have we here?" Voldemort wondered as Vernon silently gasped and struggled.
"A suicidal mundane," Xerosis replied, walking calmly over to Voldemort. "If you'll set him down?"
Voldemort shot the boy an amused look, but set Vernon down. "Are you sure he won't run again?" the Dark Lord asked while the mundane gasped for breath.
Xerosis pulled out his wand and pointed it at his uncle. "Vernon, I recall telling you to behave yourself," he commented. "Crucio." He held the curse for a long moment, then ordered, "Get up, you fat bastard."
Vernon gingerly climbed to his feet, little eyes flickering everywhere, but no one there looked interested in helping him.
Xerosis led Vernon over to one of the remaining wizards, got a drop of his blood, then handed the potion to Vernon. "It's not poisoned," he commented when the mundane refused to touch it. As Vernon took it, Xerosis added, "If you do anything other than swallow it, I will flay you alive."
Vernon swallowed nervously, but one look at the cold eyes told him he'd best behave, so he downed the potion with a grimace.
Xerosis nodded and directed Vernon to the cell the wizard had been in while Lucius handed the wizard a portkey. As the door of the cell fell closed, Vernon started changing and he let out a silent cry of agony as his bones shrank and his fat was burned away. When he was left gasping in pain, he glanced up at the entrance of his cell and found bright green eyes glowing down at him. "I hope you enjoy hell," the demonic boy offered before shadowing away to get another couple mundanes.
When they'd finished, Xerosis still had three mundanes left in his underground hole, but he'd thought that might happen and had set the place to fill in if he didn't visit for four days. Those mundanes would suffocate to death, not that they'd know, since there was nothing left to them.
Lucius and Macnair went back by the last portkey while Xerosis shadowed the Dark Lord and Barty back to the manor. Since the portkeys dropped them off downstairs where Narcissa had been waiting to receive their guests, the three wizards had a moment without Lucius or Macnair around.
Barty took full use of it, turning to Xerosis with a shrewd look. "What are you? Apparating? Casting the Cruciatus? Creating a whole new potion?"
"You're almost cute when you're upset, Barty," Xerosis replied, reaching up and patting the Death Eater's cheek. "I'm completely human."
"You can't possibly be human," Barty insisted. "You're twelve for Merlin's sake!"
"Potter, you've broken one of my favourite Death Eaters," Voldemort commented drily as he sat in his chair.
Xerosis shot him a wide-eyed innocent look. "I'm sorry."
"...That was disturbing," the Dark Lord decided, shaking his head. "Go back to your guardian. Surely he's missing you by now."
"Nah. I put a sleeping draught in his cookies," Xerosis replied with an evil little smile.
"You are an evil, impossible child," Barty decided.
"Aw, I love you too," the boy cooed before shadowing away.
"My Lord–"
"Go to your room, Barty," Voldemort ordered, rubbing at his forehead.
Barty bowed. "Good night, my Lord."
Harry didn't hear from Voldemort or his Death Eaters for the rest of the summer. He figured the Dark Lord was probably giving his people time to rest and recover before sending them out to do his bidding. He honestly didn't know how much longer they'd be staying silent, though, especially not with Bellatrix involved. (That woman couldn't do silent and stealthy if her life depended on it.)
Life at the cottage was rather nice and quiet, even with a guardian like Sirius Black. The charms built into the walls of the living room kept the video game music from getting too loud and disturbing anyone else in the house. Sirius spent a lot of time playing video games, completely ignoring the occasional times Harry said, "I'd warn you about those games rotting your brain, but..."
Terry made full use of the library, curling up in the plush chair in one corner to read whatever struck his fancy. Harry had been talked into adding some of his personal library to the cottage library, so there were books in practically every subject – minus Dark Arts, which Harry had a few books on, but Sirius still entered the library often enough that putting them in there was just asking for trouble – including a few mundane ones.
Harry spent most of his time in his garden, working with the flowers or reading under a tree. He'd never been able to actually enjoy being lazy during the summers during his last life, so he was making up for it as much as he could. He still made dinner for everyone, since he didn't trust Sirius in the kitchen and Terry had no interest in learning to cook.
Harry and Terry both went over to Li's for a week before Harry's birthday and met all her cousins. Harry and Li conspired together to get Terry in the same room as Dao-Ming, Li's cousin who had a crush on him. Watching Terry fleeing while Dao-Ming tried to get him to date her was worth every threat of retribution.
Harry also enjoyed a couple visits to Luna's house. Her father was always fun to sit down and listen to, and Luna's ceiling was truly a work of art, with a picture of Harry as central and his various friends circled around him, Luna at his right hand. He'd hugged her when he'd seen it, then suggested some other people for her to add in; people from his old life who he either hadn't met yet or simply wasn't as close to in this life, but were almost as important to him as those already in the mural.
Harry's birthday, as per his own demands, had been much smaller for the celebration of his thirteenth year. He'd invited all his friends and made the cake himself. Hermione hadn't been able to make it, but the others were there. Even Lillian, who had agreed to a day-long truce with Neville and Terry.
When the time for school books came, everyone but Lillian met in Diagon Alley again for another shopping trip. Hermione would be staying at Harry's afterwards, since her parents had an appointment scheduled for the morning of the first that they hadn't been able to change, so she'd also brought her trunk, which Sirius had helpfully shrunk.
The trip was pretty easy, as they only needed to stop by the bookshop and Madam Malkin's. Harry, knowing how book crazy he and his friends were, suggested they tackle the robe shop first, which Li and Luna's fathers both agreed to, eyeing their daughters knowingly.
Their stop at the robe shop was suitably entertaining for all involved. Sirius spent the entire time trying to get Malkin's assistant, a cute blonde girl, to agree to a date with him. Most of the party was either shaking in silent laughter by the time they left or covering a smile. Harry hadn't bothered hiding it, he was holding on to Hermione's shoulder, laughing.
"Shut up, Harry," Sirius muttered, cheeks slightly pink.
"You should stick to blokes, Siri," Harry commented once he'd calmed a bit. (Hermione leaving him for the bookcases sort of forced him to calm down.)
Sirius huffed and leaned against the wall next to the door of the shop. "All the good ones are straight. Or taken."
"I hope you're not referring to Lockhart," Harry replied, grimacing a bit.
Sirius shot him a sly look. "And if I am?"
"I'm glad he eloped with his boy-toy."
Sirius snorted. "You are far too young to be thinking of 'boy-toys'."
"I'm young in body, old in soul," Harry retorted.
"You're nuts. Go find a book to read."
"Pot, kettle!" Harry called over his shoulder before disappearing into the stacks.
He was left to his hunt for a basketful of books for a good twenty minutes before a silky voice commented, "Imagine, a Ravenclaw stocking up on books."
Harry glanced over his shoulder and flashed a smile at the Death Eater behind him. "What can I do for you, Mr Malfoy? Or did you just come to stare at this shocking, everyday sight? If so, I know of three other Ravenclaws you can stalk just as easily."
Lucius let out a faint sound of amusement. "I'm sure none of them have your wit."
"Mmm..." Harry picked out a book on human transfiguration. "If you mean my sense of humour, no, I'm afraid that's something my friends don't share." He turned so he could lean back against the bookcase, slipping the book into his basket after deciding it was a good addition to his collection. "If you didn't want something from me, you'd be in Knockturn, hunting down cursed items or following Draco around like a good pureblood father, pandering to his every whim. I'm also going to assume this has to do with your houseguest, as you and I have very little else in common."
Lucius' lip curled with a suppressed smile. "Considering we have my...houseguest in common, I think it's safe to say we have other things in common as well."
"Well, we are something like fourth cousins," Harry commented drily. "And we're both technically Lords of an Olde Family, even if that title means nothing these days." He pushed away from the bookcase. "Please get to the point, Lucius. There's only so long that Sirius can amuse himself and I'd like to find a few more books before he hunts me down."
Lucius scowled a bit at the use of his first name, but reached into his robe and pulled out a letter. "Correspondence," he explained, handing it over.
"He couldn't have used an owl?" Harry muttered, setting his basket down to take the letter in one hand and pull out his wand with the other.
"You seem to go through an exorbitant number of wands for a student," Lucius commented as Harry silently cast a few detection charms on the letter. He only trusted the Dark Lord so far, after all.
"I keep finding ones that fit me better," Harry replied as he slipped his wand away. The only spell he could find on the letter – one that enabled only those who met a certain criteria to see or touch the letter, in this case having been marked in some way by the Dark Lord – explained why an owl hadn't been used. He quickly broke the wax seal and opened the letter to read.
'H,
'I have no doubt you're, again, wondering why I have yet to make my move. If you're half as smart as you appear, you'll have deduced that my people from Azkaban are still recovering. They should be fully recovered by Hallowe'en, however, so you may expect word of an attack to come around that time.
'You're wondering why I'm bothering to send this letter. Perhaps it is simply my informing an equal of the coming attack, so he isn't surprised. Perhaps it's to ask if a certain vampire will be attending any attacks during the school year, or if he's only available at Christmas and over the summer. Perhaps it's just because the idea of using Lucius as an owl amuses me.
'Enjoy your school year. My love to Alissia.
'V'
Harry chuckled to himself as he closed the letter and slipped it into a pocket. "My thanks for the letter, Mr Malfoy. I'll have to check a few things before I'll have a response for certain." His lips curled with an evil little smile. "And please feel free to tell him that Alissia is strangely fond of blond ponces. Something about them being 'just the right amount of crunchy'."
Lucius grimaced. "I'll... let him know," he agreed.
Harry chuckled and grabbed his basket before moving towards another bookcase. The image of Lucius Malfoy on a broomstick, trying to deliver mail in a nasty storm would stay with him all day.
He hadn't even bothered sending a message back, since he could just as easily prove it. So it was, the first night back, Xerosis appeared without warning in the corner of Voldemort's room. Which was empty.
Xerosis raised a single eyebrow, intrigued, then slipped out into the hallway and cast a quick point me. The room Voldemort was in wasn't far from the meeting room. It was also better protected and Xerosis spent more time admiring the spell work than he did finding a way through the spells without wrecking them. The latter took him almost twenty minutes and he was grinning by the time he slipped into the room.
A light by the bed snapped on and Xerosis found a yew wand being pointed at him by a rather irate Tom Riddle. There was a moment of stillness, then Riddle let out an aggravated sound and dropped his wand. "Potter."
Harry let his fake vampire form melt away as he moved over to a comfortable chair near the end of the bed. "Hello, Tom," he said cheerfully.
Riddle scowled at him. "What, exactly, are you doing here?"
"Proving I'm more than capable of attending your Hallowe'en attack," Harry replied blithely as he glanced around the room, which was done in a pale green with hints of forest green as accent. "I like this room."
"You couldn't have sent an owl?"
"Where's the fun in that?" Harry wondered, considering the Dark Lord in the bed. "So, wait. The human form – that's your real form?"
Riddle gave him an odd look. "What, something you don't magically know the answer to?"
Harry pouted.
The Dark Lord snorted and covered his mouth, shoulders shaking.
Harry blinked, then pinched himself. He glanced back up at the Dark Lord, who was audibly snickering now, then pinched himself harder, squeaking in pain. "Shut up!" he ordered when Riddle actually started laughing. When the bastard wouldn't shut up, Harry sat back and pouted for all he was worth, which just made Riddle laugh all the harder.
After about five minutes, Riddle relaxed back against his headboard, still smiling a bit, but otherwise calm. "Yes, to answer your question. A ritual before my death," a mild glare was inserted, "gave me two forms. I tend to avoid my Death Eaters when I'm like this. It lets me go a bit incognito at things like public Christmas Balls." He cocked his head to one side. "You know who I am like this, but you didn't seem to know this was how I actually looked."
Harry sighed and rubbed carefully at the bridge of his nose. "I've seen pictures of you, from when you attended Hogwarts. I recognised your aged form."
Riddle rested his chin on the palm of his hand. "There are no pictures of me from back then. I never allowed them."
Harry winced. "Ah..."
"Finally, I've caught you in a lie. Come on, Potter, give me something real. Not your usual, insane bollocks."
Harry considered him. "What do you think is the truth?" he wondered. Tom Riddle had been lauded as a genius, surely he had some sort of theory, and Harry was curious about what it would be.
"Reincarnation," Riddle said without pause. "There have been studies done about wizards or witches who truly remembered their last incarnation. Knowing spells that were beyond them, knowing things they had no right knowing." He frowned a bit. "They knew those things, but they couldn't actually cast the spells. I know I'm wrong. Give."
"You're like a small child demanding sweets," Harry muttered, glancing up at the ceiling. He honestly wasn't sure if he could tell anyone the truth, but he supposed he could try. If anyone deserved the truth, it would be this man. His equal. The man whose soul he held. "It's... Reincarnation isn't far off. Uhm..." He rubbed at his face, knocking his glasses completely off and not caring in the slightest. "What do you know of the Deathly Hallows? The three brothers who tricked Death and each got a gift from him?"
Riddle huffed. "Fairy stories."
Harry's lips curled with a bitter smile. "Reality. They were the Peverell brothers, and we're both descended from them; you from Cadmus, I from Ignotus. I've been the owner of one of the Hallows – the Invisibility Cloak – since the moment you killed my father. Your Hallow is a ring, the stone of which is the Resurrection Stone–"
"That belonged to Salazar Slytherin!" Riddle hissed.
Harry shook his head. "No," he said simply. "The last, the Elder Wand, currently belongs to Albus Dumbledore."
"He has– Well, no wonder he's so hard to beat," Riddle muttered.
"He beat its last master, Grindelwald."
Riddle snorted. "Grindelwald was clearly a pathetic excuse for a Dark Lord."
Harry shrugged, knowing nothing about the man personally, only the tales he'd heard from the lips of others or seen through Voldemort's eyes. "The story is, if you master all three Hallows, you become the Master of Death. It's something many have attempted, but none managed." He rubbed at his face again, glasses resting in his lap. "I...managed it–"
"When?" Riddle demanded and Harry could just imagine the suspicious look on his face, though he was too near-sighted to actually see it without his glasses.
"In..." Harry considered it. "A little over four years from now." He smiled bitterly. "In another world, one where I fought you and you didn't regain your body until next year, using a ritual that required the bone of your father, the blood of an enemy, and the flesh of a servant. Before that, you'd been living off Nagini's milk. Or something."
"Using Nagini to survive?" Riddle murmured. "I must have been desperate. And, yes, that would have lost me this form. Go on."
"There was an epic battle in Hogwarts during what would have been my seventh year if I hadn't been on the run, destroying your Horcruxes. I defeated you, largely due to luck." He could practically taste Riddle's curiosity. "You had the Elder Wand, having pilfered it from Dumbledore's grave, but I'd already mastered it. You cast the Killing Curse, I cast the Disarming Charm. The Elder Wand wouldn't kill its master, so it sent the spell back on you."
"That's a stupid way to die."
Harry laughed. "It sort of was. Though, I might beat you out."
The bed rustled, as if Riddle was getting more comfortable. "Do tell."
"No need to sound so eager," Harry muttered, rolling his eyes. He was awarded with a quiet chuckle and couldn't help but smile. "Anyway, I became an auror, married Ginny Weasley, had three amazing kids... You would have hated it." Riddle chuckled again. "I was... not quite seventy when the mundanes discovered us and started a very long, destructive war." He swallowed, trying to make himself continue. Perhaps he shouldn't tell this tale. Perhaps it wasn't important?
"You died," Riddle offered him.
Harry let out a bitter laugh. "I was the last fucking magical person alive in the whole world. I got caught on a fallen tree and pulled my leg out of its socket. I was just laying there and four of them came to stand over me, smiling like the mother-fucking freaks they are and the biggest, ugliest of the lot asks, 'Any last words, Magic?' And I say, 'Yeah. See you in Hell.' And then he shot me." Harry touched the spot in the middle of his chest, wincing in remembered pain. "Didn't even have the kindness to aim at the heart and make it quick." His lips curled with disgust. "Mundanes."
"...why do you call them that?" Riddle asked quietly.
Harry took a deep breath, dragging himself back from his death. "At the beginning of the war, when we thought everything would be okay. Back when we still believed in our own superiority, before they blew a fucking hole in the side of Hogwarts–" Riddle let out a choked sound, "–we had a couple of peace talks, and one of their demands was to be called 'mundanes'. The term 'muggle' was too derogatory. The Minister of the time told him where to shove it, and his house was one of the first they took out. We all started calling them mundanes, then. Sometimes..." Harry let out a strained half-laugh. "Sometimes, they'd leave you alive if you called them mundanes. Back in the beginning."
They were both quiet for a long moment, Harry rubbing at too dry eyes, Riddle just sitting on his bed, staring at the boy in the chair. The boy who was older than he was. The boy who had lived through loss and pain and died once.
Finally, Riddle said, "You came back."
Harry nodded. "I died the Master of Death. Death met me in Purgatory and gave me three choices: I could go back and get shot again, I could go on to Hell, or I could start over. From the beginning."
"So you started over," Riddle finished. "Reincarnation, but not."
"I remember–" Harry snorted. "I came back to the moment of my father's death. I got to see my mum, for the first time I can remember, and she was saying goodbye. And then you were there–"
"You smiled at me!" Riddle realised. "I thought it was just... You know how babies smile sometimes, for no good reason?"
Harry laughed. He grabbed at his stomach and just laughed for a long moment.
Riddle didn't say anything as the boy – man, whatever – got everything out of his system. He half expected Potter to start crying, but he just laughed until he stopped and sat back up, a faint smile on his face, dry eyes unfocussed on the wall a little to Riddle's left.
"Death, before he sent me back, gifted me with an ability. One ability, my choice. I chose to become something not unlike a dementor. I can cause cold and fear in people. I can also suck out souls."
"Ah." Riddle grimaced. "That is... a useful gift."
Harry grinned a little madly. "Especially when you're forced to grow up with mundanes who would see you dead. My cousin and uncle occasionally required reminders, but my aunt only needed to be told once and she left me alone. And now I've got Sirius, who makes a better insane older brother than an actual guardian, but we work. I hardly need a guardian, and Sirius likes having someone around to feel responsible for that can take care of himself."
Riddle snorted. He could see that, sure. From what he remembered of Black, the man could barely take care of himself, let alone a godson.
They were both silent for a long while. Eventually, Harry slipped his glasses back on, only to find Riddle staring at him. "What?"
Riddle shook his head. "I don't have a certain date for the Hallowe'en attack yet. It might be on Hallowe'en, it might not. I assume you're a Parselmouth, since you've spoken to Alissia?"
Harry tapped his scar. "Horcrux," he replied, smirking a bit at the Dark Lord's wide-eyed look. "Yes, I'm a Parselmouth. Technically."
Riddle shook his shock away. "Right. Well– Wait." He frowned a bit. "You're a Horcrux?"
"Yeah."
"My Horcrux?"
Harry rolled his eyes. "No, Albus Dumbledore's."
Riddle closed his eyes and rubbed them. "Nagini's a Horcrux and I can communicate with her or see through her eyes."
Harry knew where he was going immediately. "You can send me dreams, and I can share your dreams or see out of your eyes. Possession is also disgustingly easy. Anything else, I don't know. I also don't know how well you'll manage anything, since I'm blocking the soul piece with Occlumency."
Riddle raised a single eyebrow at the ready answer, then shook his head. "There's a Parsel Spell that enables contact between two Parselmouths. I assume you don't know of it?"
Harry shrugged. "After I got rid of your Horcrux, I lost the skill. And I haven't bothered with any research into the subject during this life."
Riddle nodded. "Come here," he ordered, pointing to the edge of the bed.
Harry shot him a vaguely suspicious look. "Why?"
"Potter, come here," he repeated.
Harry scowled a bit, but pulled himself out of the chair and shuffled around to the edge of the bed. He didn't sit, though.
Riddle sighed and grabbed the boy's sleeve, dragging him down to the bed. "You are the most obnoxious thirteen-year-old I have ever had the displeasure of dealing with," he decided. "And don't get technical with me about who's older," he added as Harry opened his mouth to do that very thing.
As soon as Riddle had eye contact, he slipped into Harry's mind, coming up against impressive walls. He waited there for a moment, and was rewarded when the boy turned his attention inwards and joined the Dark Lord at the wall. When Harry wondered what he wanted, Riddle offered the sense of sharing information. He smirked to himself when Harry warred for a moment between suspicion and want. Finally, the boy let him through the wall.
Riddle didn't have much trouble finding the spot where Harry stored his spell knowledge. The boy's mind was eerily like his own, which he supposed made a fair bit of sense, considering their connection. However, Potter had way more knowledge stored in his mind than Riddle could ever hope to gain. Some of it couldn't possibly be the boy's–
Oh. Riddle shook his head and quickly left a copy of his knowledge of the Parsel spells, then returned to the real world. As soon as Harry came back to himself, Riddle said, "You get information from the souls you eat?"
Harry's lips twitched with amusement. "Yes. And vampiric abilities from vampires."
Riddle huffed a bit. "That is... terribly useful. I'll admit to being a little jealous."
Harry faked a gasp. "Tom Riddle? Jealous of someone else?"
Riddle scowled. "I have been jealous of people before."
Harry grinned. "Bet you never admitted it, though. Or, if you did, you killed them shortly after."
Riddle's superior grin answered that question.
Harry chuckled and stood. "I should be getting back," he decided, glancing briefly at his watch. "I still need to sleep before classes tomorrow."
"Very well." Riddle waved at him a bit negligently. "I'll let you know about the attack when I know more."
Harry nodded. "I'll keep an eye out for it." He turned to one of the few shadows in the room.
"Potter," Riddle said just before Harry could leave and the boy glanced back over at him, one eyebrow raised inquiringly. "Thank you, for telling me the truth." He grimaced a bit, but knew it had to be said. He had heard some dangerous secrets, after all.
"Fair's fair," Harry replied with a shrug. "I know of some of your worst moments and your most... Well, I know about your Horcruxes. I know what they all are and how to destroy them. I know how to destroy you." He offered a slightly bitter smile. "We're equals, Tom; if you can stoop to inviting a thirteen-year-old on a raid and let him lead your Death Eaters, I can tell you what I am." He turned away. "Good night."
"Good night," Riddle replied as the teen disappeared.
By the end of the first week of school, Harry had won the bet about their new professor. He put his winnings to one side, fully intending to use them during their first Hogsmeade visit to buy everyone some chocolate. In the meantime, he simply enjoyed having Remus Lupin as a professor again, for all that he was mildly ticked that the man was avoiding him. He'd been avoiding Sirius, too, from what little he could get from Sirius. (Getting anything about Remus from his godfather was proving quite the chore, as Sirius was avoiding thinking of the man after his first four letters went unanswered.)
Finally, a month into term, Harry got sick of the dance and pulled out the Map and Cloak to stalk the werewolf. He wasn't quite certain what he'd say to the man, but he was going to catch him and Remus was going to damn-well explain himself.
The werewolf smelled him before Harry was close enough and sped up to get away. But Harry would have none of it and, using his vampire speed, which he usually avoided, quickly caught up to the man and grabbed his arm. "You are, quite possibly, the most obnoxious non-human I've had to deal with," Harry grumbled as Remus tried tugging his arm out of the teenager's grip.
Remus froze, complexion fading to white. "Did Sirius–"
"No, Sirius isn't going around blabbing your secret to everyone," Harry snapped, pulling his Cloak off. "I can sense whether or not people are human. I can tell you, for example, that there's a sixth year Slytherin with diluted veela blood, for all that I've never even met him. I don't know why I can do it, but it's useful. And you have been avoiding both myself and my godfather. I want to know why."
Brown eyes darted around the hallway for a moment before saying, "Someone might..." His voice died off when Harry held up the Map, which showed that no one was anywhere near them. "Where did you–?"
"Stole it from the Weasley twins," Harry answered, scowling a bit. "Look, I really don't care that you're going out of your way to avoid me. Really, I don't. I don't even care that you wouldn't let me have my turn with the boggart because, honestly, I don't want to know what it turns into. But all this avoiding Sirius? You're the last friend he has left. Hell, he's the last friend you have left! So why aren't you responding to his letters?"
Remus trembled ever so slightly. "I-I left the country and–"
"Don't you dare tell me you didn't get news outside Brit–"
"I left!" Remus snapped, something in him lighting at Harry's assumption. "I didn't question anything, I let them put Sirius in Azkaban, I left you to..." Remus swallowed and looked away.
Harry let go of the arm he'd still been holding, understanding in his eyes. "Guilty conscience," he murmured, nodding when Remus flinched. "Ah, I love Gryffindors. You should hear Sirius go on about how he and my father had thought you were the spy and he needed to apologise–"
"Why would he–"
"You two are funny," Harry decided. "First Hogsmeade visit is on Hallowe'en. Go visit my godfather. Get drunk. Do something. I'm tired of him moping around the house when he thinks I'm not paying attention." He turned away, pulling the Cloak back on. "And stop avoiding me, would you? You're making my friends suspicious, and when one of my friends is a Slytherin, well..." He chuckled to himself before starting back down the hallway.
He should have known it was a Gryffindor thing. Now all he had to do was talk Hermione into using her time-turner to get some extra sleep, preferably without letting her know that he knew what she had.
"Murder and mayhem, two of my favourite things," Xerosis commented as he as Voldemort walked down to the ballroom, where all the Death Eaters but Snape had gathered. "You know, I don't usually like Hallowe'en, but this year might just be awesome."
" 'Awesome'?" Voldemort repeated, amused.
Xerosis waved a hand at him. "I spend all day surrounded by teenagers. Shush."
The Dark Lord chuckled and swept into the ballroom, followed by the slighter figure. They walked together up to the head of the room, neither missing the distrustful looks the apparent vampire received. "This is Lord Xerosis," Voldemort announced to the Death Eaters. "He is a valuable ally, and you will treat his words as if they were my own." Voldemort cast a sharp glance over his people, picking out those he thought would give the boy at his side any trouble. Xerosis had already assured the Dark Lord that he could easily handle any trouble, and Voldemort didn't doubt it, but that didn't mean he wouldn't try and keep his people in line.
"Due to the nature of this attack and the need to keep under the Ministry's radar for a while longer, there will be no Dark Marks cast. However, you may have whatever fun you wish. Use this attack to stretch your magic and apply your creativity once again. These muggles are worthless, and it was time we reminded them that we are the greater species!"
Under the sound of the Death Eaters' cheers, Xerosis murmured, "Don't get too cocky."
Voldemort glanced at him. "No, but do you honestly think they would believe that muggles might one day wipe us out?"
"Hmm... Good point."
As the Death Eaters finally calmed, Voldemort gently took Xerosis' arm – taking care to touch only cloth, as neither of them wanted to test the weakening protection that still lingered – and apparated them both to just outside the research lab Voldemort had targeted. The Dark Mark acted as something like a portkey when the Dark Lord wished it to, so all his people appeared moments after them.
Despite the late hour, the lab was still quite active, as the scientists were dedicated to their research. And Xerosis had used his time-turner to bring him back to just before the feast, so they had more time for the attack.
When Voldemort motioned his Death Eaters forwards, it was rather like watching a black tide of destruction. They all flowed forward, blasting their way into the building and grabbing whatever mundane they could.
Voldemort and Xerosis let the Death Eaters go first, content to just watch the destruction for a moment.
"How long are you giving them?" Xerosis wondered.
Voldemort shrugged one shoulder. "Most of them aren't recovered enough for more than twenty minutes or so. I'll give them a little over half an hour before dragging them back." He glanced down at the teen. "You'll take care of the building?"
Xerosis nodded a bit absently. "Yes. It's not hard to make it look like something exploded and set off a chain reaction; it just requires you to be familiar with the layout of the experiments. I did my homework a couple days ago."
Voldemort snorted. "Ravenclaws," he replied, then swept into the lab to find his own target.
Xerosis chuckled to himself and shadowed to the part of the lab where he intended to start the explosions. The Death Eaters hadn't made it that far yet, so he slipped around, occasionally stealing souls or using Dark spells to destroy mundanes' bodies.
The first couple of Death Eaters he saw either didn't see him or glanced at him, then hurried past without a word. Xerosis was mostly amused by their reactions, though he was curious if anyone would dare challenge him.
Xerosis was just finishing off another mundane when a curse hit him in the back. He bit back a shout of pain and turned on the offending Death Eater, who had the most peculiar expression of disbelief on his face. A quick jab of Legilimency made Xerosis bare his lengthened teeth in fury; the spell he'd been hit with was supposed to kill a vampire as soon as it hit. "You son of a mundane," Xerosis spat, slamming the man against an opposing wall. The air around them practically froze with his fury and the Death Eater in his grasp choked, nightmares flashing through his eyes.
"Why are you manhandling my Death Eater?" Voldemort wondered a bit idly from behind him.
"He tried to kill me," Xerosis growled. "I'm debating the best way to punish him."
Voldemort snorted and turned away. "Have fun," he called over his shoulder.
Xerosis' lips twisted with an evil smile. "There's this wonderful spell," he commented cheerfully to his victim as his power backed off a bit, "that drains the magic out of someone. It's useless against mundanes, but used on a squib or witch or wizard..." He chuckled a bit, eyes flashing, and let go of the Death Eater, who crumpled to the floor without the apparent vampire's support.
"No, please. My Lord, please!" the Death Eater cried, eyes wide behind his mask.
Xerosis silently cast the spell, seeing no reason to let his small audience know the incantation. The spell had been discovered when he was in his forties by an Unspeakable who'd been trying to replicate the effects of dementors. She'd never managed to create a spell version of the infamous Kiss, but she created any number of spells that drained other things, such as magic or blood. The benefit to using the magic-draining spell was that it gave the caster the victim's magic, which was great on the battlefield, not so good among friends.
He turned from the sobbing wizard and cast cold pale eyes over his audience. "Anyone else want to debate my leadership?" he offered with a twisted little smile.
The watching Death Eaters fled.
Xerosis looked back at the magicless-wizard and debated between leaving him alive and aware – at least until the building exploded – or taking his soul. While he might very well have knowledge Harry didn't have, the idea of leaving him to suffer was...
"I do believe you've sufficiently cowed my minions," Voldemort said from behind him. "What did you do?"
"I stole his magic," Xerosis replied absently.
"You can do that?"
The apparent vampire glanced over his shoulder and smiled at the horrified look on the Dark Lord's face. "Certainly. An Unspeakable trying to re-create the Dementor's Kiss created it."
"Why not just use a dementor?" Voldemort wondered, sweeping closer to Xerosis and the still-whimpering Death Eater.
"They were destroyed. The Minister decided they were more trouble than they were worth, and I hated them." Xerosis reached forward and removed the mask from the magicless-wizard. "Still do, actually."
"For all that you're practically one yourself," the Dark Lord muttered, watching the boy's actions a bit suspiciously. "Are you going to Kiss him?"
Xerosis made a face. "Ugh. My brain just combusted."
Voldemort snorted.
"And, yes, I think I will." So saying, he opened his mouth and sucked the Death Eater's soul down. "Hmm. Tasted a bit like two-day-old mouse..."
"That was a little disturbing to watch," the Dark Lord decided as Xerosis left the body to slump to the ground. "And when have you had two-day-old mouse?"
"Small rodents survived the radiation fall out longer than the larger animals," Xerosis reported, glancing around. "You already sent the Death Eaters back?"
"Yes. I am... curious about this explosion you intend to start."
Xerosis shot the Dark Lord a smirk, then crooked his finger in a 'come hither' gesture before leading the way to where the most explosive experiments were being carried out. "A basic knowledge of chemistry helps a lot in knowing where the best explosion has the chance of happening," he offered, winding his way through the counters to the storage room in the back. "None of their experiments are particularly explosive, unlike some other labs I've blown in the past, but they do keep quite a few chemicals near each other in the storage rooms. Mundanes are always stupid like that."
The door had a passcode on it, but Xerosis just shorted it with a burst of magic, then pulled the door open. Inside were shelves and shelves of powders, liquids and gases. "I'd take my shoulder or arm, if I were you," he warned as he gingerly moved a couple of bottles forward on the shelf so they were teetering a bit. "You're not going to be fast enough to apparate out of here before everything goes 'boom'."
Voldemort placed his hand on the boy's shoulder, then watched as he pulled a bottle forward, apparating them just before the bottle connected with the next thing on the shelf below. They appeared on a small hill a short distance from the lab and watched as, slowly but surely, a series of explosions rocked the building, each one setting off another and another until the lab was little more than a burning pile of rubble.
"That was impressive," a voice commented from behind the two wizards and they both spun, wands out. Death stood behind them, leaning on his scythe. "You mortals are cute."
Xerosis sighed and slipped his wand away. "To what do we owe the dubious pleasure of your presence?" he wondered.
"Counting souls," Death replied. "After the Death Eaters got through, and not counting the ones you took out before the explosions, that finished... twenty-seven. Just in case you're keeping track."
"I'm not," Xerosis admitted. "I'm leaving that to you."
Voldemort cleared his throat. "Counting souls?"
"I gave him his dementor ability in return for a promise for him to match the number of people he killed during his last life," Death explained, turning his head up to the Dark Lord. "You. Your Horcruxes."
Voldemort narrowed his eyes, tightening his grip on his wand. "What of them?"
"I don't like them," Death declared. "They're cheats."
Xerosis snickered.
The Dark Lord spared a brief scowl for the teen before looking back at Death. "Well I'm not about to get rid of them."
Death huffed a bit and picked up his scythe to hold it threateningly towards the Dark Lord. "I'll hunt them down."
"You can't hunt them down," Xerosis commented with amusement. "If you could, the ability to make them never would have existed."
"You have had far too much time to think about things," Death decided.
"You set me the task of decimating the ranks of vampires because you don't like them," the apparent vampire pointed out. "I figure, if you hated them that much and could affect things, you'd have done them all in yourself. Instead, you get mortals to do it."
"Don't make me take your gift back," Death threatened.
Xerosis held up his hands in surrender. "I'm silent as the grave."
Death turned back to Voldemort, swinging his scythe back to rest over his shoulder. "You can have one Horcrux, the one in him. Get rid of the others."
"Why should I?" Voldemort asked, finally slipping his own wand away. "What would I get out of only having Potter as a Horcrux?"
"My eternal thanks for ending your perversion of the world."
Xerosis covered his mouth and quickly turned away, shoulders shaking with silent laughter.
"What do I care for that while I'm immortal?" Voldemort replied, smirking a bit.
Death let out an irritated sigh. "I really hate mortals," he told them. "You all spend your lives avoiding me like I'll never get you. You create Philosopher's Stones and Horcruxes and make deals with vampires just to keep from ever meeting me. I mean, what did I ever do to you, anyway?"
The two wizards traded looks. Xerosis snorted and started silently laughing again while Voldemort looked back at Death like he was the insane one of the three of them. "Do you really want an answer to that?"
"You're not funny," Death declared, pointing his scythe at the Dark Lord. Then he turned to Xerosis. "And, you, stop laughing."
Xerosis coughed and turned back around, covering a smile with one hand. "He's not going to just give up his Horcruxes," he pointed out. "Can't you make a deal with him, like you did with me? You gave me this ability, I kill, erm..."
"Three thousand, nine hundred fifty-seven," Death intoned.
"Yes, I kill that many people."
Voldemort gave Xerosis an impressed look. "Seriously?"
"I have mad skillz," Harry replied drily. "I also blew up a lot of buildings."
"How many of them were muggles?" the Dark Lord wanted to know.
"Most of them. I never really bothered with magical people, since we're already so few."
"You bring your Horcruxes down to one," Death interrupted, "I'll absorb any Killing Curses that would hit you until you've either got the magical world under your thumb, or he finishes his end of our bargain, whichever comes last." He paused for a moment, then turned to Xerosis. "You can't die until you finish your end of the bargain, by the way. I don't think I mentioned that."
"Must have slipped your mind," Xerosis replied drily.
"Only Killing Curses?" Voldemort wondered, but his eyes sparkled with victory.
"What do you think I am, some sort of god?" Death snarked. "I can stop instant death, but anything else you'll have to resurrect from in your usual pathetic mortal way. Deal or no deal?"
"Deal," Voldemort agreed without pause. He'd take what he could get.
Death nodded and waved his scythe in Voldemort's direction. After a moment, all the items holding Horcruxes were surrounding them, including one very irate snake. "I don't trust you to behave yourself," Death commented at the Dark Lord's frown. Then he waved his scythe again and disappeared as all the broken pieces of soul jumped out of their receptacles and back into Voldemort.
Voldemort screamed in pain and fell to a ball on the ground, his snake-like visage fading away to the more human body. The pain was... He didn't have a word for it. It felt like his whole body was being simultaneously torn apart and put back together again while also being held under the Cruciatus. It was, without a doubt, the worst pain he'd ever been in.
Harry dropped to his knees next to the Dark Lord, his own fake face falling away. Wide green eyes watched on in fear as Riddle gasped and wheezed, tear-tracks marking his cheeks.
:What is happening to Master?: Nagini whispered as she slithered over to Harry and sat next to him to watch her master in concern.
:He made a deal with Death: Harry replied, gently stroking the serpent's head. :Death was...not kind.:
:Death is never kind: Nagini pointed out.
Harry thought about running through a forest, surviving by the skin of his teeth. About celebrating the finding of a two-day-old mouse or searching through dying berry bushes just for something to eat. :Sometimes: he murmured, :Death is kind. When it's all that's left; when it's dying and finding peace or living forever and being tortured every day...:
Nagini bobbed her head. :Death is many things: she decided.
Riddle gasped and tipped forward as the pain finally faded away. Harry grabbed him around the shoulders and braced him as he shuddered. The Dark Lord buried his face against Harry's neck, finding comfort in his equal and falling asleep before he even realised he was tired.
Harry tightened his grip on the Dark Lord as he heard the man's breathing even into sleep. :We need to take him back to the manor: he told Nagini quietly.
:Don't forget his treasures: Nagini reminded him, raising her head so she could slither part of her body into the boy's lap.
Harry nodded and summoned the ex-Horcruxes into one of the pockets of his robe, then shadowed them to the Dark Lord's bedroom. Once Nagini had moved, he hefted the man into his arms and carried him to the bed, silently thanking his vampire strength. He removed Riddle's shoes and outer robe, then pulled the covers over him and helped Nagini onto the bed. :I need to see to the Death Eaters. Stay with him?:
:You needn't ask: Nagini replied, curling up at Riddle's side. :He is my chosen, my master.:
Harry smiled at her, then quickly cast the series of complicated glamours that made him look like the vampire Xerosis. A step backwards into a shadow shortly found him in the ballroom, where all the Death Eaters had gathered. They were getting restless and Xerosis sighed silently. He wasn't looking forward to dealing with them, but they had to be dismissed and the Dark Lord was in no condition to handle them.
He took a fortifying breath, then stalked up to the head of the room, smirking a bit as the men and women in the room quieted. Once they were silent and he was in the Dark Lord's usual spot, he turned to them. "Lord Voldemort is currently busy with other matters, so I get to debrief you." He smiled darkly at them. "I hope there are no problems with that?"
A quiet murmur of agreement went around the room.
"Excellent. Everything went as we'd planned. Good work. For now, I'm sure many of you are wobbling on your feet, so you're dismissed." He waved them away and they all turned to the doors to leave.
All but two, who came up to him and removed their masks to show them to be Lucius and Barty. "Is my Lord okay?" Barty asked, his eyes dark with concern.
"We were not aware of any other matters he had to attend to," Lucius added, holding himself stiffly.
Xerosis glanced past them to where the door had fallen closed, the other Death Eaters gone. As he faded back into Harry Potter, much to Lucius' surprise, he commented, "He's fine. An old... companion of mine stopped by for a visit and he and Voldemort don't really get on. He's just a little drained, so I helped him to bed."
Lucius shook his head. "You're thirteen," he commented.
"And you're thirty-nine," Harry retorted, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. "What of it?"
"You're–"
"He defies all explanation," Barty helpfully cut in before Lucius could tick off the teenager. "And he won't tell me why. It's not worth the headache."
Harry shot Barty an amused look. "So I'm a headache, am I?"
"You're often the cause behind mine," Barty agreed cheerfully. "And, if you'll forgive me, you look like crap."
Harry's lip curled with a tired smile. "It's been a long day," he allowed, "and it's still too early for me to return to Hogwarts."
"Too early?" Lucius repeated.
"I have a time-turner. I believe I am currently debating shield spells with Anthony, Terry, and Padma in the Ravenclaw common."
Lucius blinked, then shook his head. "I can lend you a room to rest in until you can return?" he offered, grimacing a bit.
Harry shook his head. "Thank you, but no. I'll make sure Voldemort is resting and not being his usual obnoxious self." He waved a hand over his shoulder, then stepped into a shadow and faded away as the two Death Eaters offered him faint goodbyes.
Up in Riddle's room, Harry pulled the chair closer to the Dark Lord's bed and sank down into it. He'd just rest for a moment, then shadow back to Hogwarts...
He woke to the sounds of voices quietly conversing. He groaned and straightened, his neck aching from the strange angle. The voices stopped and he opened his eyes to find Riddle and Nagini watching him. Nagini looked as pleased as a snake ever could, while Riddle looked a bit uncertain. "Erm, hi?" Harry asked, absently casting a silent tempus and glancing at the numbers. "Ten in the morning... Shit!" He jumped to his feet. "Classes started an hour ago!"
"Sit down, Potter," Riddle ordered drily. "You have a twelve-hour time-turner."
Harry flushed and sat back in the chair. "Oh, yeah. I, uh, forgot." He rubbed at the back of his neck nervously.
Riddle shook his head and leaned back against his headboard. "You weren't required to stay," he commented neutrally.
Harry shrugged. "I hadn't meant to sleep that long. I still had to wait a bit before I could go back, so I thought I'd take a quick nap, and, well..." He trailed off and grimaced. "I can leave now, if you want?"
Riddle frowned. "I don't..." He shook his head and glanced up at Harry. "Nagini said you have my..."
"Treasures?" Harry offered when the Dark Lord couldn't find a word for the ex-Horcrux receptacles. He pulled everything out of his pocket and held them out.
Riddle carefully collected everything, setting all but the ring to one side, which he studied. "So, this is one of the mythical Hallows..."
Harry relaxed back in his chair and watched Riddle examine the ring. "I called the shades of my parents and Sirius when I was walking to my death," he offered. "It had even been broken in half at the time. It's the real thing."
"Walking to your death?" Riddle repeated, glancing up at the teen.
Harry shrugged. "The only way to remove the Horcrux in my scar was to be killed. The soul fragment passed on, I returned to my body."
Riddle gave him a disbelieving look. "I'd ask if you're suicidal, but you picked life over death..."
"I was a tragic hero," Harry replied drily. "The archetype says I have to lose everything important to me before I can defeat the villain."
Riddle snorted and covered his mouth with one hand. "Sorry."
Harry grinned at him. "You should have seen my reaction when Hermione forced me to realise that. Ron had to be force-fed a calming potion, he was laughing so hard."
Riddle snorted again and shook his head. "Who fed him the potion?"
"Hermione, of course. I was too busy trying to excuse my behaviour," Harry replied, old enough that he was comfortable with the faults of his youth. He'd been a bit of a fool back then, but he was past most of it. He still occasionally had to save people, but he wasn't willing to sacrifice himself or put up with people's shit.
The Dark Lord shot him a considering look. "I have a question, but I'm not sure how you'll receive it."
"My hormones haven't kicked in yet," Harry replied with a smile, "so I should be fine."
"Your... hormones...?"
"When I was fifteen, I was a moody little jerk. Pretty much all year. I destroyed Dumbledore's office in a fit. Although, too be fair, I'd just lost Sirius," Harry explained. "And I'd spent the year being called a liar by the press and being tortured in detentions by a professor." He blinked. "That reminds me, I should hunt down and kill Umbridge."
"Right." Riddle gave him an odd look, then shook his head. "Your friends... I know from Lucius' spawn that you're friends with the mudblood, Granger, and Longbottom, but not the Weasleys." He frowned a bit.
Harry understood where he was going. "I very much doubt any of my old friends will accept my choices in this life," he offered. "Hermione and Neville were... I suppose you could say my friendship with them was by chance and I'm honestly not certain how it's lasted this long. I never thought I'd have their friendship again, but I intend to treasure it while I still can. And, yes, that is ridiculously Gryffindor of me, but I spent most of my life with them by my side, and Hermione is practically a sister to me. I'm doing this – coming back and taking out what mundanes I can – for them. Even if they'll never understand why."
Riddle sighed. "Have you never thought of explaining the truth to them?"
Harry laughed. "Tell Neville and Hermione that I'm going to kill all the mundanes? No. Neville might be able to understand to some degree, but Hermione will never understand why we can't all just get along. For all that she didn't have a single friend before coming to Hogwarts, she's still remarkably naïve when it comes to the ways of the world. She died preaching about the rights of all humans, even after two years of war.
"I don't even know where to start with Ron and Ginny. It took a war and the death of his brother before Ron got past his occasional bouts of jealousy for my fame. And Ginny had this terrible crush on me that circumstances that won't happen this time around put to an end. Ron and Ginny simply aren't the people I knew them as in my world, and I can't make them those people. Their lives are their own, even if it means we're nothing more than passing acquaintances."
"So you intend to go through the rest of your life with the knowledge that, once you come out as a muggle-killer, all of your friends will disown you?" Riddle asked. "Forgive me, but that doesn't seem like the Potter I've come to know."
Harry smiled a bit and shook his head. "My old friends may disown me, but I've made new friends who might not. Well, Terry and Li might, but Lillian is right next to me. And Luna..." He chuckled. "Luna is a creature all her own. She became my friend, knowing what I intend to do. I doubt she'd ever actually kill someone, but she understands my reasons and is my friend in spite of everything."
"You're content with two friends?" Riddle replied disbelievingly.
Harry snorted. "I'm ninety-seven years old, I won't cry if my friends abandon me."
Riddle blinked, then chuckled and shook his head. "I suppose that's true," he agreed.
"Anyway, Barty and I have a strange little friendship going–"
"You scare the magic right out of him and you call that a friendship?"
"And you and I are...something," Harry continued, ignoring the Dark Lord. "I think that's a fair amount of friendships."
Riddle glanced up at the ceiling. "Merlin save me from Gryffindors and their 'everyone is my friend' mentality."
Harry laughed and stood from his chair. "I should get back. Oh! I told your Death Eaters that you were busy with other business, hence why I dismissed them instead of you. Lucius and Barty figured something was up so they know you were in bed. And Lucius knows who Xerosis is."
Riddle grunted and dragged himself out of bed. "Very well. Go to class and leave me to curse my minions."
"Have fun!" Harry chirped before ducking into a dark corner and shadowing to the space under his bed. He pulled out his time-turner and turned it back five hours, before any of his roommates might be up, then climbed into his bed and snuggled under his blankets. There was nothing wrong with dozing until the others started getting up.
Remus apparently did get around to striking up a conversation with Sirius, as the dog animagus asked Harry in one letter about his ability to spot non-humans. He also asked whether or not Snape was part bat, to which Harry replied, 'How should I know? I can catch vampires and werewolves, but animal forms are beyond me. Cast an animagus revealing spell on him and leave me out of it.'
The werewolf was still wary of him in class, but he stopped completely ignoring Harry and offered to let him try his hand against a boggart after Christmas, which Harry turned down. He much preferred facing his boggart inside Remus' end-of-the-year obstacle course, when the only person who would see it would be himself.
Christmas came and went and Harry enjoyed his holiday with Sirius. The Malfoys weren't holding a Christmas Ball that year, due to their manor being full of escaped Death Eaters, so Harry didn't have to try sneaking out after tea like he had last year.
Before he knew it, second term was over and he was trudging down to the train with Luna, helping her carry her shaking trunk from the carriage – the thestrals who'd brought them down were eyeing them a bit suspiciously – and onto the train.
"What–?" Hermione asked before Li could cover her mouth.
"Don't. Ask," the Chinese girl ordered. She'd seen a couple of Luna's roommates on the way down and the horrified looks on their faces told her they were better off not knowing.
"You're no fun," Harry told his friend as Luna let go of the trunk. He hefted it up into the luggage rack without a grunt, ignoring the weird looks everyone but Luna shot him. Honestly, he'd sort of let that cat out of the bag back in first year. He was still waiting for one of his friends to demand he explain what he was, but other than Hermione's brief question back on that first train-ride, they kept their mouths shut.
"It's a pity Professor Lupin won't be back next year," Neville commented as Harry took a seat, Luna happily curling up between his legs on the floor.
"Snape is a real jerk," Terry muttered.
Hermione cleared her throat. "Luna, uhm..." She shook her head. "Never mind."
Luna considered Hermione with perpetually wide eyes. "Yes?"
"I think she's asking why you insist on sitting between my legs when there's a seat for you," Harry offered drily, pulling a book out of his pocket.
"I like it here," Luna replied with a distracted smile. "Are you jealous?"
"Am I what?!" Hermione squeaked, cheeks turning a faint pink.
"If you want to sit between Harry's legs, I'll trade you places," Luna continued.
Hermione's mouth fell open and a squeak came out.
Harry absently reached down and placed a hand on top of Luna's head, nose in his book. "She's not ready for you to torment her yet, Luna. Maybe next year."
"Harry!" Hermione shrieked.
Li coughed and looked away while Terry waggled his eyebrows suggestively at Hermione and Neville sank down in his seat, as red as the engine starting to pull them towards London. Luna just smiled a bit absently and started braiding a bit of her hair, humming quietly to herself.
"Harry," Hermione growled, pulling out her wand.
Harry turned a page. "Hmm?"
"Aguamenti," Hermione intoned.
Harry let out a surprised shout and dropped his book into Luna's lap as he was suddenly soaked. Luna and Terry both also got wet and Terry shot an offended look at the Gryffindor girl, but Luna went right on braiding her hair and humming as if nothing had happened.
"Was that really necessary?" Harry wondered, leaning around Luna to grab his book from her lap.
"You were ignoring my plight," Hermione insisted as Harry cast a drying charm on the compartment, much to Terry's relief.
"Next time I'll just laugh instead," Harry replied, carefully looking over his book for any damage. Finding none, he set it gently to one side and looked back at Hermione, who was puffing up to snap at him. "Honestly, Hermione, it's just a bit of fun. I'm sorry if Luna sitting at my feet bothers you, but she could care less. Anyway, we both know there's no meaning behind it, right, Luna?"
Luna blinked up at him. "You mean I'm not your favourite minion, my Lord?" she asked.
There was a moment of silence while everyone blinked at the youngest member of their compartment, then the others all laughed.
Harry rested a gentle hand on top of Luna's head. "Of course you are," he agreed before picking up his book to read again.
Still chuckling a bit, the others pulled out books or cards to play a quiet game.
Harry smiled to himself for the rest of the ride; he'd never had a minion before.