Embracing His True Self

Chapter 51


Harry woke up with an insistent pressure in his bladder demanding his attention, groaning in despair, he grumbled in general grouchiness. His head was throbbing, and it was freezing cold, he didn't want to let a foot let alone his entire body out of the duvet he was ensconced in. Yet the increasing pressure on his bladder gave another warning. Cursing in annoyance, he reluctantly got up, sliding his feet into his slippers before making his way to his ensuite's bathroom to vacate his bladder with relief. Non-verbally and without his wand, he cast a spell to tell the time, to find it was six thirty-nine, far too early to be up yet, especially on his birthday.

Sixteen-years-old, it was difficult to believe really, he thought as he washed his hands and padded back through to his bedroom. Once he was at his bedside, he grabbed his wand and flicked it in the direction of the fireplace. There was wood already inside, just waiting to be lit. Lit up it did once the spell hit it, sitting on his bed, glancing at the pillows with a sigh, he could tell he wouldn't get back to sleep. He'd only had four hours of sleep, if that, the last time he remembered checking the time was after one o'clock in the morning. He was so thirsty; his mouth was so dry that his tongue was sticking to the inside of his mouth.

Shaking his head, wincing at his actions, damn it, his head was throbbing. Standing once more, he wandered over to the trunk and opened it. Rooting through until he found his potion supply, he didn't have a hangover cure, why would he need it after all he wasn't old enough to drink…and truthfully, he hadn't cared to drink. If this was how you felt afterwards, he wasn't sure he would be again. Ha! The Headache reliver, that would need to do. He downed it in one go, sighing in relief at the ache left his head, it no longer felt like a bowling ball. Now it felt like a hollowed-out bowling ball.

Throwing the empty vial in the bin, he slid into the bed, covering his legs with the duvet as he plucked Remus' – he recognized the writing after all – card and opened it up. Slightly surprised to find vouchers for the apothecary within. Ten galleons, which was a lot when it came to Remus, and he couldn't help but smile in gratitude. It would definitely get used, he spoke quite often about his experimental potions something he and Remus could share since Sirius didn't care much for the art of potions brewing. even less when he realized what the Wolfsbane potion was doing to his partner. It wasn't just the ten-galleon voucher, he realized, opening the next gift, which had been from Remus too, it was a potions kit, a professional one, must have cost a lot of money too.

He put the vouchers in his money wallet/coin bag, which still held his winnings from last night inside. Then he put the card on the table, and plucked up Sirius' card and added it to Remus before he grabbed the present and unwrapped it. Smiling softly at the fact he could, they'd wanted to make sure he had them to open on his birthday so had sent them right away. Quirking an eyebrow at the old books, reverently stroking the spine, these were from the Black family library, the Black coat of arms gave it away. It was stamped, presumably magically, on the inside of the front cover and it was a first edition. Odd, was Grimmauld Place open to him or were they books that Sirius had before he left home maybe?

One was about potions, the other the Dark Arts…or rather the Dark Arts and defence against them. There was a little note stuck inside of the potions one. It warned him against displaying them, that they were considered dark and people might get the wrong idea. Without Dumbledore…Sirius was truly coming into his own, and Harry felt proud. He was no longer holding a grudge against magic, especially dark magic, or his family. Sirius wouldn't have given him this if he still felt the same way regarding the Black family or the Dark Arts. Then again, Sirius had made an offhand comment about having to know the Dark Arts to truly defend yourself against them. He must have gotten the books that day, and it was probably on his mind.

He wondered if the library was still present in Grimmauld Place, he hadn't seen any books though, not when he was searching for the Headmaster's portraits of the Black Headmaster, Phineas. So, he assumed they'd been removed, just as a precaution, he rather hoped they hadn't been thrown out otherwise he'd be most displeased. He likely should give Grimmauld Place a thorough going over, before he got it gutted for sure and he would do that one day. It definitely needed it, shuddering anew at the critters that he'd seen the other day.

Placing the Dark Arts book to the end of his bed, he sat cross legged and delicately opened the book on potions. He hadn't had as much time as he would have liked to focus on the Metamorphmagus potion. Which wasn't quite there yet, although he was closer than he'd ever come before. The feeling of excitement thrummed through him, making him want to move, to jump to do anything other than sit still. This sort of excitement wasn't new to him anymore, not since he had been freed. Grinning widely, he settled down, breathing evenly and began to lose himself in the book.

Which he stayed immersed in until knocking distracted him.

Harry wished right there and then he hadn't put silencing spells up last night, he wanted to know who was at his door without getting up. Sighing, he placed a piece of paper in the open pages of his book, so that he didn't lose his place as he got up. Absently removing the silencing spell as he went, there would be no music or loud voices to stop him sleeping now after all.

"Barty!" Harry said, a slow grin making its way onto his face, "Sore head?" he asked innocently, if one could call Harry that even without the wicked grin on his face.

"Don't even!" Barty grumbled, pointing at Harry with a twitching eye giving away his annoyance.

"Why haven't you gotten a hangover cure already?" Harry asked amused as he left his door open letting Barty come in as he pleased.

"There's none left," Barty snapped bitterly, everyone had the forethought to get theirs yesterday evening for this exact reason. He hadn't thought about it at all, it was a good job he rather liked House-elves otherwise the damn thing would have been cursed right there and then after telling him they had run out.

Harry cackled in amusement, as he wandered over to his trunk, "It's not a hangover cure but it should help your headache," he informed Barty as he handed over the potion vial.

"Happy Birthday," Barty said, looking a bit more alive and less likely to bite someone's head off for one wrong move. The colour came back to his cheeks and he sighed in relief.

Harry glanced at the cards, assuming that's how Barty had known about it, "Thanks," his theory was shot to hell though, when a card and present was thrust under his nose. Apparently, he wasn't completely recovered, Harry thought in amusement as he accepted the gift from an out of sorts Barty.

"A greasy breakfast they say helps hangovers," Harry commented, opening and placing the next card on his stand, feeling warmth surge through him. Normally he only got two, one from Ron and Hermione, now though…now he had Sirius', Remus', Barty's and gifts to go with them. Gifts he actually had a use for, although he never once grudged any gift he received, too happy to have anything gifted to him. "I'm guessing everyone will be coming down to breakfast at the same time?" that thought was daunting, there was a lot, lot of people here right now.

"Yes, with so many people here, you can't just ask for it in your bedroom or suite," Barty explained, shrugging his shoulders. His tense muscles beginning to relax, he wasn't fully recovered, he still felt a little queasy but the worst of it was gone. It had to be the muscle relaxant properties in the Headache cure.

"Not even the inner circle?" Harry asked perplexed, he knew they got away with a lot more than the rest of the Death Eaters did. They had proven themselves and thus were given a lot more leeway than normal.

"At an event like this? You're joking, aren't you? It would be seen as a sign of disrespect and dissent in the ranks if they didn't come." Barty pointed out as he sat down on the edge of Harry's bed, getting a glimpse of the books he'd just gotten. He then whistled in awe, recognizing them for what they were and what they were worth. Then again, he often forgot what Harry was actually worth himself now.

"Yeah, I supposed I didn't think of that," Harry conceded, sitting back in his bed, once again crossing his legs. "What time did you go to sleep last night?" surprised anyone was up yet after last night.

"I'm not sure," Barty admitted, he'd drank his weight in fire Whiskey after Harry had gone to bed. He was no longer on watch duty, to make sure nobody did anything…stupid. He didn't mind, honestly, he would defend Harry from anyone who dared to say anything. Not because of his Lord, but because he had grown to know and respect Harry. He was probably the only one other than his Lord that actually knew Harry best, except Snape of course, but Snape hadn't been around really. He couldn't due to the fact he was on duty at Hogwarts, spying against Dumbledore for their Lord. "I think maybe an hour?" every time he lay down, he just felt sick, the only sleep he'd had was bent over the toilet bowl.

Harry shook his head, "You're all nuts," imagine staying up that late, the latest he'd ever stayed up was midnight, and that was to see in his birthday. It was a tradition he hadn't broken, just the place where he stayed had.

"Admit it, you had a good time, you completely thrashed everyone at cards," Barty snorted, not buying Harry's words for a second.

"It was fun," Harry said slowly, "But I doubt I'd do it every night," he conceded, once he had stopped worrying – after his drink – he definitely had fun. Whether that was because he'd been winning or not…he couldn't be sure. He just wasn't a people person; he preferred his own company over loud boisterous company. He put it down to his childhood, but who could really say?

"It will happen eventually, for weeks after we win," Barty declared with self-assurance that they would indeed win the war. How could they not? After all the one they say could have ended it was now on their side, with two such powerful wizards it was a given they'd win.

"Oh goodie," Harry drawled sarcastically, he rather hoped he could miss out on that one.

Barty just smirked at him, reckoning he knew what the teen was thinking.

"What are you going to do today?" Barty asked, it was his birthday and he couldn't even go out anywhere, he was stuck here.

"Actually…I'm going to try and fine tune the potion," Harry stated, carding his hand though his hair, "Maybe Severus will have a few ideas I could use." He was ready to throw his hands up in the air and admit defeat and ask for the assistance he so obviously required. There was no shame in that though, Severus was a Potions Master at the end of the day. They potion worked, sort of, just not right, not the way it was meant to. Maybe he'd never perfect it, which was disheartening, he'd put a lot of thought and effort into it. "And write out the information they need for my participation in the Duelling circuit."

"Somehow…I'm not surprised to hear you say that," Barty said wryly, Severus would agree just to get away from everyone else too. They must have the most antisocial wizards he'd ever met in his life. If it let Harry enjoy his birthday, who was he to say otherwise at the end of the day? "What did Malfoy say to you, by the way?" he had seen the confrontation, and was very curious. He hadn't wanted to mention it in front of the others out of respect for Lucius.

Harry huffed out a laugh, sounding bitter but amused, "Oh, he's going to find out what I'm up to." Harry said shaking his head, "He thinks I'm a spy, quite honestly…I wonder if the idiot just doesn't realize how powerful Voldemort is…or if he just thinks he's as stupid as him."

Barty groaned, closing his eyes in despair, "And he's supposed to be the smartest of the Slytherins…hell, Merlin help them all, they're going to need it." rubbing his forehead exasperated.

"He is?" Harry asked in surprise, "Are you sure? I would have said that was reserved for either Zabini or Nott," they were the most Ravenclaw like of the entirety of the Slytherin fifth years…soon to be sixth years upon their return to Hogwarts.

"Well, it's just what I've heard, there's no actual proof," Barty conceded, "But you're right, they were hard workers," he would know, he'd taught them for a year, just because they weren't loud or opinionated didn't mean they didn't know their stuff. They just never volunteered to answer questions, Harry was the same actually. He wouldn't have known just what the boy was capable of if not for the work he put into homework and the school work.

"They're the only ones I can actually see myself liking," Harry confessed with a shrug of his shoulders, that's if either actually wanted anything to do with him – and him alone not to further themselves in the ranks – which he would not allow to happen to him. "From my year that is, Marcus and the others were pretty cool."

"They aren't all Slytherins'," Barty pointed out, feeling slightly smug that there were only two out of everyone that Harry would like. Less competition for his time, what could he say? He was possessive of the people he cared about and didn't share well with others, blame his parents for only having him and not giving him a sibling.

"Yeah, I noticed," Harry said wryly, "Don't know much about the Ravenclaws though, I recognized a few but couldn't tell you more than their names. We had a lot of classes with the Slytherins and hardly any with the Ravenclaws."

"Noticed that too," Barty agreed, "They seem to be primarily paired with the Hufflepuff's." they being the Ravenclaws.

"Probably Dumbledore's doing," Harry said with a grimace, "Anything to stir shit up between the Gryffindors and Slytherins,"

"Nothing would surprise me," Barty said, "You going to open it then?" wanting to know what Harry thought of what he got him. His main gift though was down in the dungeons and would be gifted to him later after breakfast. He'd worked hard to make it happen. He was unsure of how Harry would take it though, so he was apprehensive. He was dark yes, but didn't have the same sadistic tendencies he and nearly the entire dark section had. He doubted the teen ever would, although if you did piss him off…Merlin, help them since he went farther than the rest did, to sate his fury.

"You know I didn't need anything right?" Harry said, as he opened the gift, doing as he always did and being careful leaving the wrapping whole. Inside he found a broomstick servicing kit, which he definitely needed, his old wax was going hard, well what was left of it anyway. It was much more expensive than the kit had, also had much more than his other one which was more basic. Under the broomstick serving kit was two books, one brand new on Runes just out a few days ago and another on spell creation and weaving. "Thanks, Barty, this is awesome!" his green eyes showed his gratitude more than his voice did.

Barty felt extremely uncomfortable with the raw unadulterated appreciation and gratefulness for some little gift that wouldn't have had anyone else blinking. How was it he could be so appreciative of silly little gifts? He knew the Dursley's – he refused to call them Harry's family – hadn't given him anything but he'd had friends, surely, he had gotten more used to gifts? Then again, the Weasley's couldn't afford to live let alone give their son money to buy their friends presents. Hermione though had parents that were well off, so he surely got something of value from her? "I've got you something else…I'll show you it later," he'd find out whether his gift would be appreciated or not.

"You really didn't have to, this is…more than enough," Harry said, "I almost want to just stay here and read…" four new books that were holding his curiosity, he honestly couldn't say which one he actually wanted to read first. Except he had already started one that Sirius had given him.

Barty groaned, "Oh come on! It's your birthday! You only turn sixteen once! At least celebrate a little!"

"I did that last night," Harry pointed out wryly, shaking his head.

"Oh, come on!" Barty protested, thank Merlin their Lord at least was going to make sure he left the damn bedroom. "You—" whatever Barty was about to say was interrupted by the appearance of a House-Elf.

"Breakfast is being served, and Masters are to join immediately," the House-Elf did not wait around for a reply, merely disappeared with a pop, liking due to the number of people the elf did have to go around repeating that sentence to.

"Looks like we've been summoned," Harry said amused by the way the House-Elf had spoken.

"Do yourself a favour…and dress classy," Barty warned him, everyone else would be. "Otherwise, they'll have a lot to say."

"I will," for breakfast? Ugh, these purebloods' seriously, they even dress up for breakfast? Barty hadn't been particularly overdressed…so this was just because everyone was there and wanted to peacock.

Barty blinked in astonishment, more surprised than shocked by the fact Harry actually listened to him. He wasn't one to be concerned about the others and what they thought. He wasn't self-conscious so it wasn't that, he didn't embarrass easily either…so why give in? Why was he suddenly listening to him? The perplexity of it followed him, as he murmured out, "I'll wait for you outside," he waited staring at the wall, confused as well, wondering if that's exactly why he'd done it! Just to confuse him! Nothing would surprise him when it came to Harry, he liked screwing with people.

Ten minutes later, a scowling Harry muttered "I feel like a freaking peacock," as he closed his door, always making sure it was closed and locked.

"Because the robes are green and blue?" Barty blinked in confusion.

"Erm, no more along the lines of showing off, it's just so not me," Harry said, explaining as they both made their way towards the Grand hall.

They didn't pass anyone until they had to descend the stairs, where they met a lot of people now, they were out of the Dark Lord's private wing. Which nobody could get near, at least not the Dark Lord's room, the wing they left alone probably due to fear of what would happen if they went anywhere near it. Harry was grateful for that, it meant there was less temptation to get into his private quarters.

"Please tell me that Voldemort has ordered every single Daily Prophet on the planet," Harry said, once they got near the bottom of the stairs. Stifling his sniggers as one of the Death Eaters squeaked and slid down a few stairs in shock. He must be a new recruit surely, then again everyone reacted badly to the name.

"You really shouldn't call him that," Barty sighed in exasperation, more used to it than he would like. Hell, even the Dark Lord didn't react when Harry called him Voldemort. The only one who found it amusing the first time they heard it was Fenrir Greyback.

"Yeah, yeah, I heard you the first hundred times." Harry said dryly, as he passed the Death Eaters standing stock still where they'd been when Harry spoke the 'dreaded word'. Honestly, it continued to amaze him the effect saying just one word had on people. He'd been hearing it for six years now, the fear and terror at one word, a name, a name the world would one day fear to speak. Even at what…seventeen years old, maybe eighteen he had been determined and quite correct. "So…papers?" he doubted the dozens upon dozens of people living here right now had diverted their owls here, far too risky.

"I have absolutely no idea, other than the seven that usually come here," Barty shrugged, him, Harry, Voldemort, the Lestrange's and Wormtail.

"Everyone is going to want to read it," Harry said with vindictiveness.

Barty just smirked as he opened the door, almost everyone was sitting down, conversing quietly, some rubbing their foreheads in obvious pain. Harry blinked at the sight of two very long tables along with a single smaller one on the platform which had only the inner circle, their families and Voldemort.

"Come on," Barty said, giving Harry a nudge to get him moving, his stomach grumbling heavily as he did so.

Harry nudged him back in retaliation before he began moving, taking his seat right next to Voldemort. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Narcissa Malfoy's fingers gripping her sons arm, who was red in the face, looking as if something rotten waving under his nose. Sighing softly, he shook his head, honestly, he didn't want to deal with the drama that came with being around Draco Malfoy. Everything was a conspiracy around him, he won't put up with it though.

Voldemort had given him permission to deal with them however he liked.

He'd better watch out, if he thought for a second the displays at Hogwarts would happen here…he was in for the shock of his life.

Harry would not be tamed by anyone.

"When's the newspaper coming?" Harry asked, turning to face Voldemort, "Please tell me they'll get in?" blatantly ignoring the choking going on around him. Presumably at the way he was talking so casually with Voldemort.

Voldemort glared coldly at those making noises, "It should be here momentarily, the House-elves will bring it." Voldemort informed the teen, he noticed the new dress robes, it definitely wouldn't have been Harry's doing, so Barty then.

"Man, I almost regret not being there to see the look on his face," Harry sighed, looking gutted, but Severus' life was worth hell of a lot more than seeing Dumbledore's reaction to the newspaper. It's not like any of the students could give him the memory since school wasn't in session.

Voldemort's lips twitched, "Indeed," he too would feel bad that he wouldn't see the old man's face. It would have become a cherished memory for certain.

Everyone listened intently to their conversation, that was until the food came directly after their Lord's words. Everyone immediately began to dig in, despite the food they had consumed yesterday, they were all starving. Still reeling over the way Potter was so casually conversing with their Lord. Those who were familiar with it, watched the scenes with amused twitches of their lips. Beginning to feel better as the potion got to work, along with a belly full of good food and coffee or teas as they preferred.


Albus Dumbledore woke up blearily to the sound of incessant knocking at his quarters door. Worry bloomed within him, there were only a few people who could disturb him in his living quarters. One of them was his deputy Headmistress and the other his spy. He couldn't get in, he didn't trust his spy that much, only with Harry's life and that was solely because of the Vow. He would never have accepted the wizard without it, would have preferred having him put in Azkaban before trusting the wizard at all. Perhaps Severus had information about Harry? Hope bloomed as he hastily slid out of bed, waving his wand and was swiftly dressed as he stepped into his footwear. One more spell had his hair and beard brushed and in place, and his wand was pocketed as he moved quickly out of his bedroom to answer his door.

He was only slightly surprised to see that it was Minerva making the racket, she was rarely one to panic, "Minerva? What is the matter?" she not only was panicking but it was showing on her face, along with distrust, which he had never seen when she was dealing with him. "What's happened?" feeling very worried himself now. The hope he'd had moments prior of perhaps Severus having found his wayward student diminishing entirely.

"You should read the newspaper this morning," Minerva said, eyes shadowed, wondering if it was true, she didn't want to think that Albus was capable of such deception. She'd known him for the majority of her life, he'd been her favourite teacher at one point.

Albus closed his eyes, "What has been written now?" he asked, shoulders slumping in defeat.

"Here," Minerva withdrew the paper from her cloak pocket, folded up and handed it to him.

"Thank you, Minerva," Albus sighed, not unfolding it just yet, as he moved down the spiralling staircase and into his office. Taking a seat in his chair, he stared at the folded paper and spoke again, "I honestly wonder what this reporter has against me, and to make matters worse there has been enough truth posted to cast doubts upon my person. I expected things like this from the likes of Skeeters not a reputable reporter such as he." Unable to say his name out of sheer rage and disgust. Elsmere had made life increasingly difficult by implying he had the ability to deal with the chamber of secrets instead let a twelve-year-old deal with it and the basilisk within. The outcry had been immense, and he hadn't been surprised by the number of people removing their children from Hogwarts.

Something that had caused ire within the Ministry of magic.

Minerva remained silent, joining him in sitting down, opposite him. She honestly didn't know what to think anymore, she felt awful in thinking such bad things about Albus, especially in case he was innocent. Yet, the evidence spoke very heavily to the contrary and Albus' secretiveness did not help matters. She hadn't known about anything other than the vague notion that he had a brother whom he wasn't close to. She'd known nothing about his sister, his mother, his father or even this, his ambitions and the fact he'd concocted it all with Gellert, there was even photos to prove it. To prove they had been close at least, but whether the information was true…she honestly didn't know.

Albus opened the paper, preparing himself for anything that could be on the front. The last thing he ever expected to see was a younger version of himself standing with Gellert Grindelwald looking extremely closely, too close for any other explanation than a relationship to be deduced. Any and all colour Albus had gained from a night of restful sleep faded completely leaving him with an ashen complexion.

'Grindelwald Manipulated? Albus Dumbledore the true Mastermind behind the war?

"Is it true, Albus?" Minerva asked, watching his reactions closely and feeling her heart sink, this…this could be nothing but the truth surely, given his responses thus far. Was this why Albus had not wished to face Grindelwald? She knew he hadn't wanted to face him, instead sending Newt to constantly track his whereabouts.

Albus could say or do nothing for fear of his reaction, he remained frozen in his seat.

"Albus?" Minerva's voice became curt.

Still nothing from the Headmaster.

"Oh, Albus," Minerva whispered, taking his silence for what it truly was – confirmation. "What did you do?" she had suspected this was quite correct, at least part of it. He would have reacted differently if some of it was untrue, surely? To have absolutely no comeback did not look good for him.

As a student from Durmstrang Institute, Grindelwald was expelled for twisted, dark experiments and near-fatal attacks on his fellow students.

He later fostered more than just friendship with Albus Dumbledore, making plans to lead a Wizarding revolution to end the International Statute of Secrecy, creating a benevolent global hierarchical order led by wise and powerful witches and wizards that dominated Muggles. Their partnership supposedly fell apart after the two were involved in a three-way duel with Dumbledore's brother Aberforth, that resulted in the death of Dumbledore's sister Ariana. Grindelwald left Britain and proceeding alone with the revolution he and Dumbledore had planned.

Was Albus Dumbledore responsible for Gellert Grindelwald's obsession? After all those we have spoken to from Durmstrang indicate that Grindelwald was a wanderer, someone without any set goals. What if Dumbledore was the one with the plans? The mastermind behind the Wizarding revolution? What if Dumbledore wished on a larger scale overtake his father's plans to put Muggles in their place?

Albus closed his eyes unable to read any more of it, his entire past was laid bare for everyone to see. From what his father had done, to his and Gellert's ideals, plans and blaming him for everything. They had not found out about Ariana's attack and why his father had done what he did all those years ago. Which made it look as though he had been raised by a fanatic, a pureblood who loathed Muggles.

The newspaper was more like a thick magazine or book today.

"Albus?" Minerva retorted once more, anger mingling with concern over Dumbledore's glazed over countenance.

Albus' mind reeled, how had the reporter got this information? There were so few people who could have had this information to give out. His brother and…of course, Bathilda Bagshot the nosy bint. His hands balled into fists as he stared at the paper.

Minerva just stared at Albus, watching a variety of emotions flow through him, which was odd in itself. Albus wasn't one for displaying many emotions if any.

"Please leave, Minerva," Albus said, his voice cold and lifeless.

"Albus?" Minerva questioned, her heart beginning to pound furiously in her chest, for the first time she truly feared him. His magic was beginning to leak from him, she'd always known he was powerful, he had bested Grindelwald in a duel, and he was said to be the darkest wizard of the age surpassed by only Tom Riddle.

"Leave!" Albus demanded, not even contemplating keeping his masks up. Too furious to think straight at the moment, as his world crumbled down around him.

Minerva stood up and abruptly made her way out of the room, refusing to remain there.

The sound of roaring and smashing met her ears as she travelled down the gargoyle, her hands shook as she took trembling breath terrified beyond belief. She honestly didn't know what to do. Did she get the healers from St. Mungo's in or the Aurors? Did she just leave him? What if he harmed the other professors in a bid to get away Would the Aurors be coming for him anyway? All she knew right now was that he was dangerous and unhinged in a way she would never thought Albus could be.

For the first time in her career, she did not know what to do, she was torn. Between her loyalty to Albus and the loyalty she had to the school. To the Ministry, to the right thing.

Does he deserve that loyalty? A whispered condemnation of her inner thoughts betrayed her cynicism.

Unfortunately, that decision was being taken out of her hands, as she felt the wards shift emitting several people. She knew, without a single doubt that it was the Minister of Magic and Aurors.

A single glimpse out of the window confirmed her suspicions as she saw the distinctive red colour of Auror robes from the gates of Hogwarts.

They were coming for him.

Minerva felt nothing but relief.


The downside to having so many people within the manor, Harry found out, was that it wasn't easy to find who you were looking for. His search for Severus so far was proving futile. Whether he was just avoiding people or if he was away doing something in the manor for Voldemort maybe? Or hiding from everyone…that wouldn't surprise Harry, he partly wanted to do the same thing really.

"Why don't you ask our Lord where Severus' room is?" Barty asked, getting annoyed by the running around. He wanted to show Harry his last gift. He wanted to find out just what he thought of it, be it good or bad, the anticipation was killing him.

"You think he's gone to his room?" Harry questioned, "I thought it more likely he'd be brewing," he confessed, it's the first place he'd checked, the potions labs but he'd found nothing, they were empty. He'd half expected him to be making more hangover cures for everyone if he was entirely honest.

"Well, he is staying here until Lockdown is done," Barty explained, "Might be unpacking for now."

"Good point," Harry mused, Severus was very anal, at least about his potions lab, he could be that way with his private life. No doubt he wouldn't be satisfied until it was turned into something he was happy with. Although, he couldn't see Severus unpacking everything, just things he'd be liable to use while living there. He was much too private to endure living here for long. "I'll just look for him later, come on…show me what you wanted to show me." okay, he was curious himself now about what on earth Barty had for him that he was almost hopping about like a bunny while he tried to find Severus.

Barty's grin took on a feral edge, "Brilliant!"

A sudden pop had both of them turning swiftly around to find a House-Elf standing there.

Harry could have hit his head, why hadn't he just used Dobby? "Hold that thought," he added, "Yes?"

"Master demands your presence immediately,"

"Me or Barty or both?" Harry asked the House-Elf.

"He demands Master Harry Potter-Black's presence," the House-Elf said curtly, looking a little worried that Harry wasn't immediately moving.

"Guess you better get going," Barty said, "He's usually in a hurry when he sends an Elf and not one of us."

"Yeah, I'll see you later," Harry said distractedly, genuinely curious as to why he was being requested. "I wonder if Draco will dare follow me up to where I'm going," yes, he knew Draco had been following him all morning, he was actually half decent about being unobtrusive about it…but not compared to him being hypervigilant given the amount of people here.

"It would be a shame to miss his face," Barty said wickedly, "Let me know when you're done,"

"Please, you just want to know what's going on," Harry teased, as he began to walk away, absently waving his hand goodbye in the wizards direction. Completely ignoring the other Death Eaters, whether they moved for him or refused to budge.

A large cluster of Death Eaters stood at the staircase leading up to Voldemort's office. "Move," Harry commanded, getting a little annoyed now. It was as if they were going out of their way to try and annoy him completely.

"Go around," one Death Eater retorted, evidently the ringleader of this particular group. The Death Eaters own annoyance evident. Fingering his wand, eyes narrowed as if just waited for Harry's legendary temper to get the better of him. The thought of seeing the little snot punished made them almost salivate. It would be a public punishment too if he attacked anyone. They just had to make sure they weren't seen at fault, otherwise it wouldn't be good for them. Not that their Lord would care, he never did for petty disputes.

"You want to be the reason I'm late to see your Lord? If so keep going," Harry added snapping in irritation, they were being deliberately annoying in order to get him in trouble he realized. His anger tapered off, a sly smirk appearing on his face, deciding to fuck with them. "If this is how you treat Voldemort you really should have more care, the Cruciatus curse is very painful," he whispered conspiratorially. "He knows how to keep it on to maximise your pain without turning you to into a vegetable,"

The Death Eaters hastily parted with that threat, leaving a pathway free for Harry to move towards the stairs. Which he did, with his head held high, but his hand lingering on his wrist, ready to call upon his wand in a seconds notice. He didn't trust them at all, but he made sure that he remained impassive, making it clear that he did not see them as a threat to him.

Nobody heard the breath of relief Harry let out half way up the stairs, he was good…but not good enough to fight seven Death Eaters on one. He wasn't completely suicidal; he would have made sure to cause maximum suffering…but he wouldn't have come out unscathed he knew that. He'd fight if he had to, and relished a challenge, but he was too curious right now about many things to really want to endure a trip to the closest Healer and worse…Voldemort's digging into what happened.

Harry froze, was he worried about disappointing Voldemort? Been seen as weak? Lesser than Bellatrix and the others who had been taught from him? Stunned disbelief coursed through him, no, it was impossible, there was no way he was worried about something like that.

Taking the last few remaining steps, he knocked on Voldemort's private office door, not the one downstairs, which he wasn't using right now. Presumably because of all the noise and the people milling around. There was only so much noise one could take.

"Enter," called out Voldemort.

Harry blinked, Voldemort sounded in high spirits, then again so had he since he read the newspaper. Opening the door, he stepped inside, to find Voldemort facing the Portrait of Phineas Black, the former Headmaster of Hogwarts. He hadn't expected an update quite so soon. Shrugging it off, he wandered in and sat down, presuming that the seat had been placed there for him. "An update already?" Harry queried, staring between Phineas and Voldemort curiously.

"Indeed, it would seem that Dumbledore has a warrant out for his arrest," Voldemort stated with a victorious gleam in his reddish brown – maroon - eyes.

Harry's eyebrows rose in surprise, "They actually took it seriously?" the bloody Ministry rarely took anything in the Daily Prophet seriously.

"They have to," Phineas drawled his tone one of boredom. "They are very serious allegations, especially if he has been under charms of the manipulation kind. He will find himself with a full scan to ensure that he was sound of mind…relatively speaking," someone who caused all that couldn't be considered 'sound of mind' if he wasn't compelled in any way.

"There's other subtle ways to manipulate people," Harry pointed out, "Although I'm not sure Dumbledore at the time would use them…he will have had a strong aversion to anything Muggle related." If he had even visited the Muggle world after the elder Dumbledore – the father – had moved his family to Godric's Hollow one of the few pure wizarding towns available to them. "But underestimating him is never a good idea…so why just a warrant for his arrest and how did you find out?"

Voldemort watched the emotions pass through Harry's eyes, he didn't need the mind link or the now removed band from Harry's leg to get a grip of his emotions. His eyes, they told everything even while his face remained impassive, occlumency hadn't changed that. It's that of course, or he was just the exception when it came to reading Harry. The robes he wore didn't do him any favours, they brought out the colour of his eyes, and seemed to make them pop more, especially since he'd gotten rid of this disgusting glasses years ago. He looked regal, a true Lord of his estate with that attire, he definitely had to find out why he was choosing to wear them. Find out and make sure it remained that way, it helped that Harry looked years older than his true age.

"Very good questions," Voldemort stated smoothly, turning back to Phineas in enquiry.

"When Dumbledore read the newspaper, he completely lost it, he was screaming, shouting obscenities and throwing everything within touching distance at walls, portraits and the floor." Phineas said with supreme amusement, it had been quite a comical sight to see such old man throw what could only be described as a temper tantrum. "He was just calming down after exhausting himself when the Aurors barged in,"

"Let me guess he got away with Fawkes?" Harry stated, already knowing he was quite correct, it was an exact scenario he could see playing out.

"Informed them that they were mistaken if they thought he was coming quietly, and yes, he used Fawkes to get them both out of there." Phineas informed them lips twitching at just how well the young boy knew Dumbledore. No, not young boy, the Black heir, Lord Black, and Phineas found himself proud to have such a Lord in place, even if he was first and foremost a Potter and a Half-Blood to boot.

"Of course he did," Harry scoffed, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully, "The first place will be the Weasleys', I don't think they'll change their opinion, at least not the parents and youngers…they seem to revere the ground he walks on. Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred and George don't care." And he often wondered just how that was, what made Ron and Ginny so different from all the others? Maybe the fact Bill and Charlie had been gone from Britain helped, Percy just believed everything the Ministry said and Fred and George were natural rebels. "He'll try and gather his allies, use what's left of the Order…but how many are left that truly support him without question…that's the question."

Voldemort's lips twitched, the boy was exceptionally clever, and he had to admit each thought Harry had given voice to…he had already thought himself. It was just a shame they were on lockdown, otherwise he would have advised Lucius to whisper such things in the Minister's ear, catch Dumbledore before he became more problematic, "There's only one problem, this means we have no idea where he is, what he's planning or his next step." He'd meant to get rid of the problem not make it more severe. It was very inconvenient that he had just lost his spy within Dumbledore's ranks where it would have proven to be more…useful.

Harry winced, "Yeah, sorry about that," Harry sighed, "Unfortunately we can never account for everything no matter how meticulous it's planned." Even the best laid plans of mice and men go awry as the saying goes Harry muttered mostly to himself.

"You can say that again," Voldemort stated dryly, his biggest one was definitely the boy in front of him, awry indeed.

"House-Elves can find anyone, anywhere, no matter what wards they're under," Harry pondered, "Without even knowing the address, I could get Dobby to plant another frame for the portrait but without knowing where he's actually staying for the duration it might prove futile."

"Perhaps not under the Fidelius Charm," Voldemort deduced, "Unfortunately, I do not think anyone has had the forethought to run tests."

"Or fortunately," Harry corrected shrewdly, "Depending on whether it works or not. I don't think Dumbledore will be stupid enough not to put his place of residence under that charm especially as he is a wanted wizard…better question…who the hell would Dumbledore trust with such a thing?"

Voldemort leaned back, his mind mulling over every potential applicant, but he found absolutely nothing and nobody he honestly could say that Dumbledore actually trusted.

"Moody might be one," Harry suggested, "But Severus might be able to answer that question for us," he was closer to Dumbledore than them, and not only that but he been by his side for over a decade playing a docile little turncoat, which of course, he wasn't.

"Agreed," Voldemort conceded, although quite honestly, he did not believe the question would be answered. Dumbledore might seem to have many friends, acquaintances but none they could say with one hundred percent certainty was the one he'd use.

"Does Dumbledore even know Severus was gone?" Harry asked, giving a bark of amusement.

"Minerva does, she planned on informing him before the newspaper came if what she told the Aurors was true," Phineas informed them. Well, she didn't specify Severus, just that she had news she had to tell him regarding 'one of the faculty retiring' but it didn't take much to put the pieces together.

"What about her? She's always been enchanted by Dumbledore," Harry queried.

"She hightailed it out of there paler than a ghost," Phineas revealed gleefully, his face twisted in utter delight. "She must have sensed how close he was to losing it." unlike him, she would be able to feel the magic emanating from the powerful wizard.

"Would have paid a fortune to see that," Harry replied, a rueful look on his face, he honestly couldn't remember seeing McGonagall anything other than composure itself. The only close break they had to her being shocked was definitely the incident with the troll. Then of course, she went ahead and awarded them points, encouraging them to break school rules as opposed to punishing them and preventing more rule breaking. It wasn't a teacher thing to do at all, especially having so many students under the one roof. Frankly it was astonishing that nobody else was hurt trying to be a hero and a stupid idiot like he'd been forced to be in order to prevent greater scrutiny by the old fool.

Voldemort chuckled; Minerva McGonagall had not changed since her Hogwarts years. She had been the same then as she was now. Always trying too hard, brought up to never display her emotions as they were signs of weaknesses. Which was why he had noticed her more than any other Gryffindor. After all being hairbrained was a Gryffindor trait, he'd soon deducted that she probably ended up in the wrong house, or picked one when she was equal measure brave and smart. Loyal to a fault, and it was just a shame that the idiot she chose to give her loyalty would never give her any in turn.

"Thanks," Harry said, just as the former Black Headmaster vacated the portrait. "Well…that was unexpected," leaning back as he stretched out languidly. Certainly not what he had expected when he woke up this morning at any rate. "Think he'll try to get back into Hogwarts?"

"It's possible, everything he owns is in the school," Voldemort said pensively, a thoughtful look coming onto his face, "Perhaps I should allow Lucius to tend to the Minister, suggest that they lay in wait for the old fool."

"I can do you one better…the Marauders map," Harry said green eyes gleaming, "They'll have his exact location, at the exact time he comes and he won't expect that."

"You detest the idea," Voldemort pointed out astutely.

"To my bones," Harry agreed, grimacing, "It's a brilliant piece of magic, it's amazing that three fifteen-year-olds were able to make it. I don't think I could have done it, or could do it even now, it's a mixture of potions, runes, spells, charms and transfiguration…they could have done amazing things together…" instead of joining the Order and going to war was unsaid. They could have made the magical world rise out of its stagnant state it had been stuck in for generations. "People should be allowed to see it, use it, but I don't like the thought of the beauty of it being replicated and turned into something…insignificant I guess."

"I deduce you'd say the same for that Invisibility cloak of yours," which was unique in itself, it had been in the Potter family for generations and it didn't look a day old, wasn't deteriorating and that itself was impossible. Magic didn't last that long; no invisibility cloak had ever lasted that long.

"I could unravel the map…but the cloak? That would be impossible," Harry admitted, and that was an irrefutable fact.

Voldemort nodded curtly, agreeing with Harry, that was true. Flicking his hand in the opposite direction, Harry blinked in surprise when a black square package sailed through the air. "Enjoy your birthday," he stated, his lip curling unconsciously, unable to prevent it.

Harry laughed, finding amusement in the look of pained derision painted over Voldemort's face. Honestly, you'd think there was something foul under his nose, not just saying 'Happy birthday' which he wasn't anyway, but he was in his own way. Hadn't he said it the last time? Harry was sure he had, although he had been rather mocking…hadn't he? Harry couldn't' remember he had been too stunned when he'd been handed – had the gift shoved into his hands more like – the parcel which had been filled with clothes he'd actually barely worn. They'd becoming too small for his frame pretty quickly, and those expensive clothes couldn't be altered.

What had he gotten him this time? Unable to contain his curiosity he opened the box and blinked in surprise. There must have been a silencing spell on the box otherwise surely, he would have heard the snake by this. Was this Voldemort's way of offering him more protection or just something he bought because he could talk to snakes? "Uh…" Harry was speechless as he stared at the tiny snake.

"It's a black tiger snake it's a species of snake indigenous to Australia." Voldemort informed him, "It's actually ten feet, once you make him his normal size. The tiger snake has a preference for coastal regions, creeks and wetlands. The snakes venom is very potent and causes adverse effects, such as breathing difficulties, numbness, tingling sweating, and inevitably paralysis." Perfect to act as an additional bodyguard for Harry, one nobody would expect.

"Is there anything you don't know?" Harry asked, mesmerised as stared at the snake that looked little more than a pencil size at the moment.

"Knowledge is power," Voldemort retorted immediately.

"Yes, yes, it is," Harry agreed wholeheartedly, which was why Dumbledore had tried to stifle him, it hadn't worked of course. He'd let the old fool believe he was mediocre, he often wondered if Dumbledore knew he was smart or if he'd just studied with someone smarter until he knew the material? If he did believe that then Harry had well and truly done his fooled him.

Turning back to the snake, it was pure black, and wasn't happy with his current size at all. Grinning wryly, Harry spoke to the snake, and to neither of the occupants, it did not sound like hissing but English. He told the snake who he was, that he wasn't allowed to bite anyone unless he was in danger or Harry allowed otherwise. That he had an owl and nothing had better happen to her. Then informed him that he would make him bigger…but not the whole ten feet, that would be impossible to cart around with him. He made him a good size to sit comfortably around his neck but noticeable, what could he say, he rather liked the thought of scaring the shit out of everyone. For those who claim to be Slytherin's they were all deathly terrified of snakes or maybe it was just Nagini.

"What's your name?" Harry hissed out.

"The great one called me Aadarsh," the snake replied, its tongue tasting the air, glad to be out of the box he'd been placed into half an hour ago – not that he knew it was half an hour – and stretch out so to speak.

"Great one?" Harry teased Voldemort a wicked chuckle leaving his lips when he swore, he saw Voldemort's cheeks go pale red, so slight that Harry honestly believed he was imagining it. "You named the snake you bought me?"

Voldemort sniffed imperiously, "Such creatures deserve good names," and wizards came up with the most ridiculous names these days. Even his Death Eaters, he could say he genuinely liked only a few of what they'd named their children.

"What does it mean?" Harry asked, he didn't know much about Hindu, and he knew that's where the name came from. Voldemort was obsessed with the Hindu culture for some reason. He'd named his House-Elves and his snake as well as Harry's as proof of that.

"The one who has principles," Voldemort informed him, and it was actually more geared towards Harry than the snake itself. Despite being on his side, he had stuck to his core principles and refused to give in, even in the face of potential danger. Not that Harry seemed afraid of him, even in the beginning it was as though the boy didn't fear death and perhaps didn't understand the true meaning of fear. That was probably what made Harry even more fascinating to him.

"Thank you, he's amazing," Harry said sincerely, stroking the snake which seemed content to scent him thoroughly, it was awfully submissive for such a creature. "Are they normally so…docile?"

"Snakes all respond well to Parselmouth they are…elevated compared to the humans they fear." Voldemort explained, "One could even say that they revere the ability it is ingrained. They also feel compelled the answer and do as directed by a parselmouth, none more so than their chosen Master." By chosen Master simply meant the one the snake gives their loyalty to.

"Nothing to do with magic?" Harry blinked in surprise. As always quite eager to learn anything new, although he did have to admit he preferred reading to learn new things instead only getting snippets. He would need to go into the Muggle world and find a few books on those sorts of snakes, and maybe one in the magical world too. The more information he had the better.

"Surprisingly not, although they can tell Muggles from Wizards," Voldemort informed him. The snakes also had the ability to get jealous, Nagini had gone off to sulk, not even giving him a chance to explain. Honestly, sometimes he wondered what he had been thinking bringing her back from Romania.

"Their sense of smell," Harry said with a decisive nod, which was true, snakes had unbelievable power on that tongue of theirs.

"Indeed," Voldemort replied, in agreement. Feeling smug and satisfied that Harry liked his gift, he'd gone back and forth on what to get him like some sort of demented idiot. He did not buy gifts for others unless it was tradition to do so in order to achieve his goals or it benefited him. This did neither, he'd actually wanted to buy a gift for Harry, wished his to be the best, the most memorable. He would never admit it to anyone, and obviously the fact he cared for Harry had not changed him. He could still curse others like nobody's business and his killing instincts were still prevalent.

It would seem he just had a soft spot.

"I'm pleased you like it," Voldemort stated, with his usual dismissive tilt to his head when he had business to attend.

"Yeah, yeah, I better go before Barty wets his pants," Harry said with a sly smirk, "He has something he wants to show me," well, give him really. "Have fun!" Harry turned, situating the snake comfortably on his neck, making sure it was comfortable for both him and his snake, he didn't see the glare boring into his back. He felt it though, and it made him shiver, that powerful gaze constantly cut through him, made him feel naked and a little vulnerable as though he could see into the heart of him. Out of everyone though, he probably did, having been in his mind as often as he had during his Occlumency training.

Voldemort contemplated the idea of sending Barty out on a mission he knows would result in his death and capture. He did not like the feeling of competition or the jealousy that reared itself inside of him. There was nothing to be jealous of, even before he realised his own feelings he hadn't been comfortable with Barty and Harry's friendship. Despite the fact he should be pleased with it, after all more connections and friendships Harry created the less likely he would be to leave the dark side.

Harry had barely closed the door before he was pounced on.

"What happened? What's going on? Is that a snake?" he blurted out belatedly realizing it was there.

"Voldemort got for him for me," Harry said, "For my birthday,"

Barty gaped, his brain going momentarily offline. Not only at the reverence in Harry's voice – which by the way was a first especially when it came to the Dark Lord – but also the fact that their Lord had actually bought something for someone. He'd never heard of that happening before, it was so out of character that he was stunned speechless.

"His name is Aadarsh," Harry told him, absently stroking the snake as he hissed at him. "Put your hand forth, let him scent you," he added, as the snakes face came up, scenting the air with his tongue. To his surprise Barty did exactly that, he didn't even seem the slightest bit hesitant. Harry wondered if it was because Barty was used to snakes or if he trusted him. His mind flashed to the reactions of Hermione and Weasley when they found out, how pale and sick they looked over his talent. He'd known about it before Hogwarts begun, but he hadn't anticipated the reaction from everyone.

"What kind is he?" Barty asked, delicately stroking its head, and he absently wondered at his true size, although it could be a juvenile snake and have more growing room.

"Black tiger snake," Harry told him, as Barty slowly pulled away so that the snake didn't strike out of fear at his unexpected movement. "So, what the hell do you have down there…or should I be asking who?"

"Come on," Barty said, yanking open the door and making his way down the stairs, the stairs were narrow allowing only one person at a time down them.

"Barty," Harry said in warning, his tone going grim, as he made his way down after him.

"Come on," Barty urged him, his own tone not as cheerful as it had been just moments ago.

As soon as they were outside the cell, Harry stared at the red robes, an Auror. The figure looked sort of familiar, was it someone he knew? It was doubtful he didn't know any Aurors…at least not personally. He was pretty sure Voldemort had a few Aurors in his pocket though. "Who is he?" assuming it was a him due to the short hair.

"She," Barty corrected, staring at Harry cautiously, this was the moment of truth.

"Who is she?" Harry asked, his tone filled with exasperated amusement.

"Nymphadora Tonks, Auror and Order member," Barty told him, "The only Metamorphmagus in the British isles."

"You do realise you have just condemned her to death, right? She's definitely not getting out of here alive," Harry said impassively.

"Yes, she's a thorn in the Dark Lord's side, she was never going to survive the war anyway," Barty stated, relaxing a little at the lack of horror or any sort of negative reaction from Harry. "This means you can investigate, find out what you're missing and make your potion it gives her life some meaning." Even if it was over the second, he was done.

Harry cocked his head to the side.

"How did YOU manage to get the best of an Auror?" Harry asked, amused, "Don't they have partners?" it shouldn't be easy to take down Aurors, if it was that easy…they shouldn't

"The idiot tripped over her own feet and knocked herself the fuck out," Barty said scathingly. He would have laughed but it was honestly not funny, it had been sad and pathetic. How she managed to finish Auror training was beyond him.

Harry however, burst out laughing, just imagining the scenario playing out.

"And that's an Auror," Barty stated darkly, staring at the unconscious witch with obvious distaste.

"No torture," Harry stated firmly. "If she's mine I want her healthy until I figure out the potion…afterwards she can get killed…and with the killing curse." Not that he would be the one casting it, it was the one spell he had refused to learn and still didn't know if he would succeed if he tried it. She'd done nothing so he wasn't going to make her suffer, he was indifferent towards her presence here.

"Yeah…you might have to go to Our Lord with that," Barty said, "They will only listen to him and if Bellatrix finds out she's here…well, it's best you don't know."

Harry scoffs, "Yeah," he could imagine just exactly what the witch would do, especially considering how pissed off she was at him.

"Why are you so determined to make the potion anyway? I've never seen you like that before," Barty said, his focus now on Harry as he completely forgot the Auror.

"So, you guys can go out without being found out, with new identities you'll all have a new lease of life," Harry confessed.

Barty blinked, staring at Harry completely stunned, "That's why?" he croaked out, well fuck, you could knock him over with a damn feather. He wanted to work on an experimental potion on his birthday to help them all…perhaps there was a bit of a Gryffindor still inside the boy after all…unless he had ulterior motives for helping them…perhaps a boon but it would be worth it regardless of what Harry asked.

Plus, what he asked was never anything untoward or risky, as seen by the fact he had only asked them to watch out over his friends for the boons in the past.

He'd never had anyone care enough to do anything like that, not ever, and he knew Rab and Rod would feel the same.

Barty gave Harry a genuine heartfelt smile, changing his face completely, it might be Harry's birthday but Barty felt like it was his. "Thank you, Harry, even if it never works…I'm grateful that you tried…but knowing you, you'll get it working." After all this time he was still learning new things about the now sixteen-year-old but he also knew his mind was brilliant and just as amazing as their Lords. If anyone could do it, it would be him.

It will be him.

"What's wrong with you? Are you feeling alright?" Harry said shoving him with his hip, grinning widely, teasing the older wizard who rarely spoke so heartfelt.

Barty just swatted his hand away with a grin, pleased with himself.

And off they went, Harry positively making a beeline for his grimoire dying to see if perhaps he could get it with someone's blood.


"Hey, you know where Snape is?" Barty's ears perked up when he heard Rodolphus speaking out in the hallway, "Hey, Rod in here!" Barty called out, shifting a bookmark into the book. He was looking into blood magic and how it pertains to family magicks and gifts, and a dozen other books on potions regarding changes of appearance but most of the information told you to (See Transfiguration) or rather permanent transfiguration, which wasn't what he wanted.

He wasn't surprised to see that Rodolphus brother Rabastan was with him, they were rarely out of each other's sight. They had not shared the same cell, and both had been alone for over a decade. So, to see them spending every second together didn't even make him blink. He too had been alone for over a decade with only Winky and his father for company. He had been stuck in his own mind though, as his body went through the motions. If he could have…he would have murdered his father for what he'd done. Selfish fucking bastard that he was, Barty would have preferred death over that continued existence, not something he had to worry about now thankfully. Frowning in annoyance, he hated thinking about him, but it was inevitable, especially when he interacted with people who had been in Azkaban the entire time. They might think he was lucky…but Barty didn't consider himself so.

"Hi, he's not in here," Rodolphus groaned, shuffling to the seat in the library and gratefully sinking down into it. Thank Merlin, he was aching in places he hadn't known existed. If he wanted to be back to his normal self – the one before Azkaban – he had to work out hard in both mental, physical and magical aspects of his life. he had just been doing all three for two hours straight, with only a minute break to drink something before beginning again. "Why did you shout?" too exhausted to even glare but he was glowering.

Rabastan was pretty much the same, as he too sat down, a pained look on his face.

"Get a House-Elf to do it," Barty informed them, sympathy playing on his face, he knew the feelings all too well. he'd struggled alone with only a few potions – that weren't the right ones for his problems – while playing the part of a damn suspicious Auror. It hadn't been easy but he would be damned if he let his Lord down again. "Leave Snape to work with Harry," he knew what they were up to, so of course, he wanted them to work and actually figure it out, the idea was exciting.

Rodolphus frowned, "What are you on about?" since when did Barty defend Snape? A lot of the Death Eaters hate the fact he got off while the rest of them ended up in Azkaban. He openly declared his allegiance to the Dark Lord, without reservation, even if it meant serving a life sentence in Azkaban. He had known the Dark Lord would return and would get them out, and his devotion had proven true. The Dark Lord had returned and gotten them out of the hell hole, but to realize he'd spent so long in there had been a shock to the system.

"He's busy, they're busy," Barty absently corrected himself, seeing as they were in the lab, he thought he'd read up, see if he could figure out how to help them. He might not be as smart as the Dark Lord or Harry come to that, but he was no slouch, his grades reflected how determined he'd been to be a good son, a smart son. Not that he had cared, his father barely glanced his way, and that anger began festering, to hatred until he couldn't stand the old man.

"Best way to go with a lockdown," Rabastan said, "I don't suppose you know the names of any of the Dark Lord's House-elves?"

"Amita!" Barty called out, as Rodolphus slid the book Barty had been reading over to himself, glancing at the title curiously.

"What can Amita do for…" the poor House-Elf didn't get a chance to reply.

"Retrieve two pain relivers mixed with muscle relaxants now!" Rabastan growled out, he needed that pain relief as soon as possible.

The poor thing immediately left their sight to do as commanded.

"Good job Harry isn't here," Barty muttered under his breath, and it was true, Rabastan would have found himself in even more pain. Either that or in the process of receiving a mental beatdown by the teenager who had some odd thoughts especially on House-Elves. Barty wouldn't admit it but he was fond of them too, especially Winky who had taken care of him and genuinely cared for him throughout his childhood into his adulthood.

"He has problems with everything we do," Rodolphus grouched, it was a wonder they were breathing right, he would never state as such, since Harry was pretty much higher up than them now.

Barty stared at Rodolphus for a few moments, barely glancing at the House-Elf when she returned and left again having dropped off her demanded to receive items. "You can't honestly say you'd prefer things the way they were? Do you?" Barty eventually asked, his tone low, he definitely didn't want to be overheard especially by the Dark Lord. "I mean towards the end," when things were looking really fucking grim. The Dark Lord had gone off the rails, their plans just completely evaporating into thin air, all the Dark Lord had obsessed over was the prophecy.

Rodolphus sighed as the potion began to work, rubbing his forehead as he actually thought on Barty's words. "Potter has nothing to do with the Dark Lord's current state." He truly believed that.

"You didn't hear or see him before Harry was brought here," Barty explained, eyes shadowed, "I will follow our Lord…to whatever end, and was doing so back then. Now, for the first time in a long, long time, we're back on track Rod, we actually have a shot at winning, he's no longer obsessing about that damn prophecy, his mind is back."

"Was it that bad to begin with?" Rabastan asked, a frown on his own dark features. Naturally referring to the time where Barty found the Dark Lord again and set off the chain reaction. Or rather when the Dark Lord had found Barty as the case may be.

Barty nodded grimly, it was the truth, and how nobody else could see it was beyond him. Then again only he and Pettigrew had seen the Dark Lord before he had his looks and mind back. He wasn't sure what the Dark Lord had done, and frankly he didn't care as long as it was good for them.

"Damn," Rabastan mused thoughtfully, stretching out now that his entire body didn't hurt like blazes. Shaking off his thoughts, he turned the conversation to something different. "Do you know how long the lockdown is going to last for? I hate being cooped up," after Azkaban though this place was amazing, it didn't mean he wanted to be stuck in one place too long. As long as it was his decision to stay, and an ability to come and go, it didn't matter, it was the fact he couldn't go anywhere that was getting to him.

"We're always having to stay hidden," Rodolphus muttered distastefully, "The day the Dark Lord wins cannot come quick enough," he would give anything to be able to wander around Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade during the day, to see all the changes and what had remained the same. His only saving grace was Owl order, it meant he could buy what he liked, when he liked, but he would honestly prefer to go there himself and purchase something. He knew mentally it would be a let-down, not as big as his imagination was thinking it…but he didn't care. He wasn't going to risk being found out, he wasn't the best at glamours unlike Barty.

"Sooner than you think," Barty replied, thinking of earlier that morning, people didn't have the capacity to surprise him often. Yet Harry had genuinely, deeply surprised him and touched him. Add to the fact that the Dark Lord had given him a gift, a present for his birthday it blew his freaking mind. seeing how everyone else had reacted to the snake – which Harry had returned to its original size – had also been hilarious, everyone was giving him a wide berth suddenly. Then again given the potent venom the snake had, he would too if he didn't trust Harry.

"Do you know something I don't?" Rodolphus' eyes widened with hope.

"Harry's close to a breakthrough on his potion," Barty informed them, eyes gleaming in delight, the thought of actually going out into the magical world without fear of detection was liberating to say the least. He didn't doubt for a second that Harry would get the potion working, he worked miracles. The potion for them all had been…blessing, it enabled them to recover much easier and smoothly. Easier was an understatement, it would have taken months, if not at least a year for them to recover from the damages Azkaban had wrought to their bodies. He truly was a marvel when it came to creating potions.

"He's working on a potion?" Rabastan questioned curiously, he hadn't had an idea and he'd been watching the teen closely. He didn't approach him too often, and never in a friendship capacity despite the fact he wanted it. Harry was friends with the Longbottom child, a boy they had left an orphan that night.

"He is," Barty answered enthusiastically, waiting impatiently for them to ask.

"Why would it affect us?" Rodolphus finally asked the question, confused by the change in conversation.

"Because of what he's creating…" Barty replied, outwardly calm, centred and controlled. "He's creating a potion that will in essence make the drinker a Metamorphmagus. Just think about it…taking that potion will make you completely safe." Except if someone did a blood test on him, that would have their true identities revealed, but only Gringotts did those tests.

"That's why you brought in the witch," Rodolphus said, understanding dawning, he and Rabastan had seen him returning with her just before everyone began to Apparate into Slytherin Manor for the lockdown. 'and didn't kill her' was thought even if not explicitly stated.

"Well, I'm hoping it will help him," Barty shrugged his shoulders, he didn't really care if it did or not, unless it helped him succeed. Either way it was another Order member off the streets and less likely to kill them. The most dangerous one, all things considered, since she could change her appearance at will, and nobody knew what she looked like, if she hadn't been a clumsy clod anyway.

"She won't be helping anyone, especially when Bellatrix finds out," Rodolphus snorted derisively, "She hates her sister and the fact she had a kid with someone who isn't pure." Anything to cause any pain to Andromeda who Bellatrix felt betrayed by, giving up everything she loved about herself. The Black family, the pureblood ways, making the line impure, well as so much as Bellatrix could care about anyone. Quite honestly, Bellatrix could kill Narcissa even, without so much as batting an eyelash she truly had too much of the Black madness.

Bellatrix had not only now been divorced, but she was holding onto her Black name with the skin of her teeth. If she did anything out of line…they all knew Harry would disown her completely. Bellatrix only had a single vault to her name now, with the probability of replenished funds every month highly unlikely. She had no home, unless she rented somewhere. They pitted the fools who came across her, she was unstable, and quite frankly, a danger to herself and others. It had been Rodolphus' job to keep her contained…now he was free of those restrictions.

"No, I'm sure Harry will think of something, he's not stupid enough to think for a second she's safe down there." Barty said flippantly, that book of Harry's that he's constantly toting around had a whole plethora of spells within it, spells he'd created over the past five years beginning from his first year. Spell crafting was usually a Prince trait, but Harry was definitely not a Prince.

"Rolf, can you imagine if the potion works?" Rabastan said reverently, "We could have our lives back," when the Dark Lord took over – however he was going to do it – they could live their lives, properly without the constant fear their names caused and the distrust and the potential and unwelcoming attacks for what they'd done to the Longbottom's.

"No," Rodolphus whispered with a pained grimace, "Not everything," they would be losing their last name, the Lestrange name…and it was a legacy that would end when their father died especially if they changed it.

Rabastan frowned, figuring out quite quickly what his brother was referring to. They had done that, reduced the Lestrange name – which was already in bad shape – and made it something of an insult, something disgusting to have or admit to having the Lestrange bloodline. Their father could say he didn't blame them until they were all blue in the face, but the times they'd mentioned reactions and such, their father had such a broken down and hurt look on his face. He'd spent decades trying to revive their name, elevate it. unfortunately, there was nothing he could do now, the second he and his brother were caught…that was it. The name was completely tarnished, nothing short of a miracle would revive it.

"You could still use the Lestrange name…I know it wouldn't be the direct line unless you want to play your own sons?" they reused names often enough that it was doable, and there were spells to change things, although whether it would be fool proof he did not know.

"I am not portraying myself as a seventeen-year-old kid," Rodolphus sneered, the curled lip saying more than even his words, he found that entirely disdainful. There would come a day where he wished he had considered it, but he wouldn't have wanted to go along with it anyway.

"Not even to keep your name?" Barty asked, in genuine surprise. As much as he loathed his father, he was proud of his name too, so he could see where they were coming from.

"Not even then," Rodolphus insisted, it was a pipedream he knew that.

"Would you wish to go back to being a teenager?" Rabastan pointed out to Barty, but then again, he might have a hope in hell of fitting in unlike them.

"Are you kidding? It would be awesome!" Barty grinned roguishly at them.

Rabastan snorted in amusement, shaking his head, 'only Barty' was his thoughts. Only Barty would want to 'pretend' to be a teenager again, the thought horrified both him and his brother. They'd hated being teenagers last time around…and this time would probably be no different. People never took you seriously when you were young, it was entirely vexing to say the least.

"Then you're welcome to do it," Rodolphus said, shuddering anew at the prospect, the only way he would do it is if someone – the Dark Lord – forced his hand. Even then he'd be tempted to put up a token of protest, just to show he wasn't happy about it. Well, with the way the Dark Lord was now he would, before never in a million years. Perhaps Barty was right…perhaps Harry did have a significant role in the Dark Lord's return to sanity.

"Wait…isn't it Potter's birthday today?" Rodolphus blurted out, after a few moments of silence. He was sure he had heard someone mutter something like 'Happy Birthday' to the boy last night. Although in truth it might be the drink distorting what he'd heard completely.

Rabastan blinked rapidly, "Is it?" before saying, "It is," 'seventh month dies' the Dark Lord had demanded to know of any child born during that time. Harry and Longbottom were the only two that fit the bill, the dark sect had been beyond terrified during that time, praying their significant others wouldn't have their heir on or around that particular date. They knew exactly what the Dark Lord intended to do.

And as much as they abhorred the idea, they would follow their lord loyally, as they had sworn to do.

"The Dark Lord bought him a gift," Barty said, eyes gleaming as he watched their reactions, which was worth it. Jaws drooping, denial swarming their eyes, as they bugged out. This was from pureblood's who had been taught from a young age not to show emotion.

"You lie," Rodolphus whispered, knowing deep down that Barty wasn't lying he just couldn't believe it.

"He bought him a snake," Barty said, his savage glee unhidden, he'd made them actually show their true feelings. It didn't happen often so, of course, he was going to milk it for all it was worth. These memories were worth viewing again at a later date, the only other real time he had of such a thing wasn't worthy of remembrance. The day they were sentenced to Azkaban for life.

"What is it with that boy?" Rodolphus whispered in shock, his face shuttering as he regained control of himself, glaring a little at Barty for making him show his true feelings. He was genuinely baffled, why on earth would the Dark Lord desire to buy him anything? He had nothing to prove to anyone, he was the most powerful wizard in the magical world.

"Given the way the Dark Lord looked at Harry Potter last night…we might find ourselves protecting a consort," Rabastan whispered quietly, speaking mostly to himself but sharing his beliefs with his brother and Barty. "The Dark Lord's consort," showing once again that the Lestrange's weren't just muscle, but they were smart, smarter than a lot of the Dark Lord's followers. After all Voldemort didn't just take on mediocre, he looked for the best and brightest, especially in pureblood's but would take on a few half-bloods if he believed they were worthy of his cause.

Rodolphus choked on thin air, staring at his brother in stunned disbelief, "No way!" that wasn't possible, sure their Lord was far from celibate but to think after all these years to take on a consort? Especially if that person was Harry Potter? A boy who was still considered the epitome of good and lightness? "The Dark Lord does not share power," and that's fundamentally what a consort would do.

"What did you see?" Barty asked, a funny look on his face as he stared intently at Rabastan. Unlike him and Rodolphus if anyone had seen something it would have been Rabastan, he'd had a vantage point to where Harry' revealed himself along with Severus.

"Desire, possessiveness, and want." Rabastan stated steadily, after a few moments pause to gather his thoughts.

"Doesn't mean he'll take the boy as his consort," Rodolphus pointed out, he'd never taken one, he had lovers he used and discarded for Merlin's sake. If anything, the boy would become another notch on the Dark Lord's bedpost, the only difference was the Dark Lord's looks…which had deteriorated by the end of the last war with the rituals he was using on himself. He was worse when he returned though for a while.

"The fact he's waiting, giving gifts, showing him respect…" Barty mused out loud, "Damn I didn't see that coming," realization hitting him, Rabastan was right. He wondered if anyone even came close to the same realization they just had. Nothing better happen to Harry now during lockdown or any other time…otherwise that person would wish for death decades before it was finally granted.

"Oh, come on!" Rodolphus almost, almost spluttered. This was insanity. "There's no evidence, none!" they were getting ahead of themselves surely? But how Harry was acting…what the Dark Lord had said…something inside of him told him it was true.

"I suppose there's not," Barty conceded, just gifts, parties, and a possessive Dark Lord apparently.

If they had seen the meeting that was happening down the hall in a few hours…they would have immediately all been in agreement.

Only Fenrir was gifted with the sight of the two.

His laughter once he emerged scared the hell out of everyone in the vicinity.


R&R