CHAPTER 39: O.W.L. RESULTS AND FAMILY FEUDS
Harry and Bellatrix materialized with a sudden burst of blue light, reappearing on the secluded beach as their portkey whisked them back from France. The air here was notably cooler than the balmy French coast, causing Bellatrix to shiver in her thin toga and sandals as a brisk wind swept in from the ocean. They hurried towards the stone steps leading up to their cliffside house, eager to escape the chill.
"Ugh, I wish we'd stayed in France," Bellatrix complained, pulling her toga tighter around her shoulders as they reached the steps.
"Agreed," Harry nodded, his arms crossed against the cold in just a T-shirt and board shorts.
They ascended quickly and finally reached the shelter of their home. A sigh of relief escaped them both as the warmth from the crackling fire embraced them like a cozy blanket.
"Thank Merlin for this fire. I should've changed before we left," Bellatrix grumbled, stepping closer to the fireplace to soak in its heat.
Jangles, their faithful house-elf, appeared with a soft 'pop' in front of Harry, his ears twitching with delight. "Master and Mistress are back!" he exclaimed happily, bowing low.
"Yes, it's good to see you, Jangles," Harry said warmly, acknowledging the house-elf as he appeared.
"You's to Master, a letter came for you this morning," Jangles announced, conjuring a scroll of parchment with a snap of his fingers and presenting it to Harry.
Harry's heart skipped a beat as he took the scroll. He had a strong inkling of what it might contain. Unfurling it confirmed his suspicions. The Ministry seal at the top filled him with a mix of excitement and nervousness. He quickly scanned the words written in steel grey ink:
Ministry of Magic Ordinary Wizarding Level Results
Pass Grades:
Outstanding - O Exceeds Expectations - E Acceptable - AFail Grades:
Poor - P Dreadful - D Troll - THarry James Peverell has achieved the following grades in his O.W.L examinations:
Ancient Runes - O Arithmancy - E Astronomy - A Care of Magical Creatures - O Charms - O Defense Against the Dark Arts - O Herbology - E History of Magic - A Muggle Studies - O Potions - O Transfiguration - OIf you wish to contest any of these results, please contact me within the next thirty days.
Also, I have scheduled the N.E.W.T exams you wished to take for the fifteenth of November. Please contact me if you wish to reschedule.
Sincerely,
Griselda Marchbanks Senior Examiner for the Wizarding Examination Authority
Harry read through the list of his O.W.L results with a mixture of relief and pride. He looked over at Bellatrix, unable to contain his grin. "I did it," he said softly, a sense of accomplishment washing over him.
"Not bad," Harry said happily, passing the parchment to Bellatrix for her to read.
"Well done, ten O. ," Bellatrix praised, planting a kiss on his cheek.
"Yeah, I was really worried about History," Harry admitted, guiding Bellatrix up the staircase towards their room.
"That subject isn't important unless you want to be a historian or something," Bella shrugged.
Once they entered their room, they both changed into warmer clothes. Harry opted for a casual black day robe and his sturdy dragonhide boots, while Bellatrix chose elegantly fitted robes paired with her favorite knee-high, high-heeled boots.
"I think it's about lunchtime," Harry commented once they were both dressed.
"Good, I'm starving," Bellatrix exclaimed happily.
"Then we can go see Cissa," Harry suggested as they descended to the kitchen.
"Yes, I have a bone to pick with my dear sister," Bellatrix growled.
"What did she do?" Harry asked, surprised.
"She tried to make Sirius sign off on an ancient marriage rite at the reception," Bellatrix answered, looking peeved.
"Maybe we should just stay here then," Harry suggested, not eager to deal with family drama today.
"Fine, but I will catch up with her sooner or later," Bellatrix vowed, taking the seat Harry had pulled out for her.
"Why are you so angry with her?" Harry asked, settling into his own seat.
"There is an old marriage rite in the Black family charter. If the Black family is ever on the verge of dying out like it is now, the Lord Black can mandate that any male marrying into the family must lie with all eligible maidens in the family before consummating the marriage with his bride," Bellatrix explained, as plates of shepherd's pie appeared in front of them.
"So the purpose is to ensure heirs?" Harry asked, understanding the tradition.
"Yes, any child conceived during this process would bear the surname Black and help increase our numbers," Bellatrix confirmed, taking a bite of her food.
"So Narcissa was trying to force Sirius to authorize this?" Harry asked, surprised.
"He was just about to agree when I intervened," Bella scowled.
"Damn, he would have gone along with it just to spite you!" Harry exclaimed.
"Indeed," Bellatrix agreed darkly.
"Wouldn't that violate our betrothal agreement?" Harry asked, concerned.
"No, the damn thing is written into every Black betrothal contract. As long as the rite was carried out before the consummation of the marriage, there would be no consequences," Bellatrix huffed irritably.
"Well, I'm glad you stopped it. I don't think I would be able to look Cissa in the eye after that," Harty admitted.
Before Bella could say any more, the fire flared green, and Andromeda stepped gracefully out of the sitting room fireplace with a soft 'whoosh.'
"Oh, goodie, Cissa's partner in crime," Bella grumbled as Andromeda entered the kitchen and took a seat across from them.
"What do you want, Andi?" Bella asked dangerously.
"Cissa sent me. She is very sorry about what she tried to do at the reception," Andromeda said consolingly.
"That's all well and good, but I already know you were planning on taking part in the rite. You're the one who brewed the fertility potion for her," Bellatrix snapped.
"I... what... how do you know that?" Andromeda sputtered out, her voice filled with surprise and a hint of apprehension.
"I read Cissa's mind, you twit. The two of you were conspiring on this for weeks before the wedding. That's why you were at the bookstore when we went to the alley, wasn't it?" Bellatrix accused sharply.
"Yes, Cissa really wants another child and... well, you know how she is," Andromeda said, looking lost for what to say in her defense.
"I think I'll go see Sirius," Harry interjected, sensing the tension and hoping to evade the escalating argument.
"He's out of the country," Andromeda quickly redirected, grasping at the change of topic like a drowning man clutching a life preserver.
"Where did he go?" Harry asked with surprise and a touch of disappointment.
"Boston. He and little Harry flew out two days ago," Andromeda answered distractedly, trying to ease the tension.
"Sirius will have to wait to get his then," Bellatrix remarked coolly, her gaze fixed firmly on Andromeda.
"I'm sorry, Bella. Cissa really wanted my help," Andromeda pleaded, her voice tinged with regret and apprehension.
"I think you had better leave, Andromeda," Bellatrix said coldly.
"Ok-okay," Andromeda replied softly, her demeanor one of dejection as she rose from her seat and headed towards the fireplace.
Andromeda reached the fireplace, pausing briefly to look back at her sister. "I really am sorry, Bellatrix," she murmured, before tossing some floo powder into the flames and disappearing with a 'woosh.'
"So she was in on it too?" Harry asked as soon as Andromeda left.
"Yes, from what I saw in Cissa's mind, she planned to participate in the rite," Bellatrix admitted, returning to her lunch with a detached air.
"But she's married, she couldn't participate," Harry pointed out.
"Not according to Black family magic. It doesn't recognize muggle weddings. As far as the family magic is concerned, she's an eligible maiden," Bella answered matter-of-factly, her tone betraying a mix of resignation and frustration.
"Can we just go back to France... forever?" Harry suggested weakly, hoping to diffuse the tension.
"Oh no, my deceitful sisters aren't getting off that easy," Bellatrix exclaimed hotly, her frustration evident.
"Okay, what do you want to do today?" Harry asked, attempting to steer the conversation away from the family drama.
"I need winter clothes. Can we go to Diagon Alley?" Bellatrix asked hopefully, her tone softening slightly at the prospect of shopping.
"Sure, I need some as well," Harry agreed, relieved at the chance to focus on something mundane.
'Maybe this will help ease her mood,' Harry thought optimistically as they made plans to visit Diagon Alley together.
As they made their way through the bustling streets of Diagon Alley, Bellatrix seemed to lighten up a bit, her focus shifting from family troubles to the practicalities of shopping. The crisp winter air was a welcome change from the tension-filled atmosphere at home, and Harry found himself enjoying the outing despite the underlying tensions.
They entered Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, greeted by the warmth of the shop and the soft rustle of fabric. Bellatrix wasted no time in selecting several elegant robes and coats, her eyes gleaming with excitement as she examined the intricate designs and rich fabrics. Harry, too, browsed through the racks, picking out practical yet stylish outfits suitable for the upcoming season.
As they moved to the fitting rooms, Bellatrix's mood seemed to improve further, her conversation shifting to lighter topics such as Quidditch and recent magical developments. Harry listened attentively, glad to see her spirits lifting even if momentarily.
After trying on a few outfits, they made their purchases and exited the shop, the weight of earlier tensions temporarily lifted. Bellatrix seemed more relaxed as they strolled down the cobblestone streets, the winter sun casting a warm glow over the magical shops and cafes.
"Thanks for coming with me, Harry," Bellatrix said softly, breaking the comfortable silence between them.
"Anytime, Bella," Harry replied with a smile, grateful for the chance to spend time together away from the complexities of family politics.
As they made their way back home, Harry couldn't help but hope that this simple outing had indeed brought some peace to Bellatrix's troubled mind.
Harry stepped out of the lifts on level six and made his way to the now very familiar office of Griselda Marchbanks. The last week had been fairly uneventful, though Bellatrix was still quite upset with the plan her sisters had conspired on and would rant anytime either of them was mentioned.
Harry was conflicted about the wedding rite issue. The red-blooded male in him couldn't help but grin at the thought of such an arrangement with Bellatrix, Andromeda, and Narcissa in the same night. However, the rational part of him understood the potential disaster it would cause, not just for him and Bella, but for Andromeda and Ted as well.
He had been pondering how to mend the rift with the sisters, but was stumped as to how he could accomplish that without resorting to memory charms on his wife.
Harry pulled himself to the present as he stepped into the reception area of Madam Marchbanks's office and testing area.
"Good morning, Mr. Peverell. You're a bit early," Cherry greeted him as he entered.
"My apologies. I expected the atrium to be more crowded, so I thought it better to be early than late," Harry replied with a shrug, offering a small smile.
"It's quite alright. I'll let her know you're here. Oh, congratulations on your marriage," Cherry said warmly as she rose from her desk and disappeared through the door to the testing area.
Harry grinned appreciatively and settled into one of the chairs, his mind briefly drifting to thoughts of Bellatrix and their recent wedding. He waited patiently, the anticipation of his meeting with Madam Marchbanks stirring a mix of nerves and curiosity.
His wait wasn't long before Cherry returned to the reception area.
"Madam Marchbanks is ready to see you now," she announced, her demeanor professional yet friendly as she resumed her seat behind the desk.
Harry stood up, smoothing out his robes out of habit, before entering the room. As before, Madam Marchbanks was seated behind her desk, her demeanor calm and composed.
"Good morning, Mr. Peverell. Please, have a seat," Madam Marchbanks greeted him, her eyes keenly observing him from across the desk.
There was a significantly thicker stack of parchment on the student-style desk facing her, along with a monstrous hourglass already sitting prominently on Madam Marchbanks's desk.
"Mr. Peverell, I was very impressed with your OWL examination scores," Madam Marchbanks said by way of greeting.
"Thank you, Madam," Harry replied, his tone polite and respectful.
"If you don't mind me asking, why do you want a NEWT in Creatures? Very few take the class past OWL level," Griselda asked curiously, her sharp eyes fixed on Harry.
"I would like to pursue a career in Magizoology," Harry answered honestly, his gaze steady.
"Then why take Runes and Arithmancy?" She inquired further, her interest piqued.
"It never hurts to have extra NEWTs," Harry shrugged nonchalantly, though inwardly he was feeling a twinge of anxiety. Arithmancy was a subject he had only studied briefly during his training before joining Spectre VII, and he wasn't entirely confident in his grasp of it.
"Very well, today you will be taking the only single-part exam on your list: Arithmancy," Madam Marchbanks stated in a businesslike tone, acknowledging the weight of the task ahead.
"Yes, ma'am," Harry replied, steeling himself for the challenge ahead. He knew this exam would test his ability to apply numerical magic in practical scenarios, a skill crucial for his future ambitions in magical creature research.
"I need you to come forward. The N.E.W.T. exams require I scan you for any mind-enhancing potions, Quick-Quotes Quills, cribbing cuffs, etc.," Griselda said firmly, drawing her wand.
Harry was prepared for this moment. He had left his ring with the Resurrection Stone at home, just in case it was considered a banned item. He stepped forward and stood patiently as Madam Marchbanks ran various scans over his body. After a few minutes, she pocketed her wand and gestured for him to take his seat.
"I hope you're ready for a long one, Peverell. The exam lasts four hours. You may begin," Griselda announced, flipping the hourglass over to mark the start.
Harry turned over the thick packet of parchment and immediately focused on the first question. As he began to work through the intricate problems and theories presented, he knew this exam was going to be a challenging test of his knowledge and skill.
The next two weeks of N.E.W.T. exams stretched out before him, each day promising rigorous testing across a range of magical subjects. Harry was determined to approach each challenge with diligence and focus, knowing that his performance here could shape his future in magizoology.
Harry immersed himself in the Arithmancy exam, meticulously solving equations, analyzing magical patterns, and applying numerical principles to various magical scenarios. The hours seemed to blend together as he worked through each section of the lengthy exam paper.
Occasionally, he would glance at the monstrous hourglass, noting how the sand slowly trickled from the upper to the lower chamber. The pressure of the exam was palpable, yet Harry remained focused, drawing on his training and innate magical abilities to tackle each question methodically.
As he progressed, Harry found himself grateful for the rigorous education and preparation he had received, both at Hogwarts and during his time with Spectre VII. Arithmancy, a subject he had initially found challenging, now felt like a puzzle he was gradually unraveling with each correct answer.
At times, doubts crept in, questioning whether he had interpreted certain magical sequences correctly or calculated the correct magical resonance. However, Harry pushed through these moments of uncertainty, trusting in his instincts and knowledge.
After what felt like an eternity of intense concentration, Harry finally completed the last question. He sat back in his chair, feeling a mixture of relief and accomplishment. Glancing up, he saw Griselda Marchbanks observing him quietly, her expression unreadable but perhaps hinting at a hint of approval.
"Time's up, Mr. Peverell," Griselda announced, her tone neutral yet authoritative as she gestured for him to hand in his exam paper.
Harry nodded, gathering his papers and handing them over with a sense of accomplishment. He knew that regardless of the outcome, he had given his best effort—a testament to his determination and dedication to his chosen path in magizoology.
As he left Madam Marchbanks's office, Harry reflected on the challenges yet to come in the remaining N.E.W.T. exams. With renewed determination, he looked forward to proving himself in each subject, one exam at a time.
Harry groaned as he woke up, a deep sense of relief flooding him as he realized it was Saturday—a reprieve from the grueling N.E.W.T. exams that had pushed his mind to its limits over the past week.
The exams lived up to their reputation as nastily exhausting wizarding tests. Harry had already tackled Arithmancy, Transfiguration, Charms, Defence Against the Dark Arts, and Runes. With only three exams left starting on Monday, he felt a weight lifted now that the hardest part was behind him—though Potions still loomed, it was a subject he had honed through his training with the Unspeakables.
As he gently extricated himself from Bella's arms, careful not to wake her, Harry stretched, feeling his back pop satisfyingly. He made his way to the bathroom, taking care of pressing matters and relishing the brief moment of peace before the next round of exams.
Harry knew that despite the challenges, he was well-prepared. Each exam so far had tested his knowledge, skill, and ability to think under pressure. As he glanced at his reflection in the mirror, he reminded himself of his goal: to excel in these exams and pave the way for his future career in magizoology.
Feeling determined and focused, Harry returned to the bedroom quietly, ready to enjoy a rare Saturday morning with Bella before gearing up for the final stretch of exams that awaited him next week.
Ten minutes later, Harry stepped into the kitchen, freshly showered and fully dressed. He took a seat at the table, greeted by the sight of a plate of waffles that appeared before him. The rain outside beat heavily against the windows, casting a dreary ambiance over the morning.
Harry dug into his waffles, savoring the warm, comforting taste as his thoughts wandered. Lately, he had been feeling restless, a yearning for purpose driving him to seek out a job to occupy his time and mind.
There were still many tasks ahead of him, but he felt as though he had hit a dead-end for the moment. His plans to thwart Voldemort's return remained steadfast, but practical limitations held him back. Little Harry was too young for him to safely attempt to remove the Horcrux from his scar, delaying their efforts to destroy Voldemort's anchors for years to come.
Furthermore, Voldemort's followers were influential purebloods, and the public believed Voldemort had been defeated. Any action against them would undoubtedly cause a public outcry and jeopardize the fragile peace that had settled over the wizarding world.
As he finished his waffles, Harry mulled over these challenges. He knew patience was key, yet the urge to act, to make a tangible difference, gnawed at him. He needed to find a balance between preparing for future battles and living in the present, supporting Bella and their growing family while maintaining vigilance against the dark forces that still lingered in the shadows.
With a sigh, Harry resolved to focus on what he could control: his studies, his job search, and his role as a husband and soon-to-be father. He knew that when the time came, he would be ready to confront Voldemort and his followers once more, fortified by patience, determination, and unwavering resolve.
Harry continued to eat his food absentmindedly, his thoughts drifting to the various challenges he was currently facing. He had been making efforts to regain both physical and mental fitness, though he admitted he had been slacking off on the physical side this past week. After his initial morning run on Monday, the demands of his exams and late-night studying had left him drained, unable to muster the energy for subsequent workouts.
The Defence Against the Dark Arts exam had particularly tested him. Griselda Marchbanks had enlisted Moody's expertise, putting Harry through rigorous exercises like counter curses and advanced shield charms. He even endured a five-minute mock duel with the legendary Auror, an experience that had left him physically and mentally exhausted.
Reflecting on his breakfast of waffles, Harry considered his diet. He knew indulgent meals like these weren't helping his goal to regain his fighting shape. Perhaps a word with Jangles, their house-elf, to serve leaner options would be in order.
The sound of the Floo network caught his attention, drawing his gaze to the fireplace where Sirius emerged, cradling his younger self in his arms. The sight was unexpected but not entirely surprising, given Sirius's ability to navigate time travel with his younger counterpart.
"Sirius," Harry greeted warmly, setting aside his thoughts on exams and diets for the moment.
Sirius gently set little Harry down on the floor, his grin wide as he turned to face Harry. "Hello, mate."
"Hey Padfoot, how was Boston?" Harry asked, glad for the company.
"Busy. We went all over the States. We even got to visit Ilvermorny for a tour. I think they were trying to tempt me into enrolling Harry there," Sirius exclaimed with enthusiasm.
"Cool. You probably know that Bella is still furious with Cissa and Andi... and you," Harry said, a smirk playing on his lips.
"What did I do?" Sirius asked in genuine surprise.
"If I hadn't interrupted, you would have given in to Cissa's demands," Bellatrix's voice came from the doorway.
"She said she would forgive me for the training dummy prank," Sirius defended, his tone somewhat pleading.
"I figured it was something along those lines," Bellatrix replied evenly, taking a seat beside Harry as her breakfast appeared in front of her.
"I'm sorry, Bella. I was pissed drunk, and it seemed like a good idea at the time," Sirius implored, regret clear in his voice.
"Fine, you're forgiven. Now what do you want?" Bellatrix asked, cutting off a piece of her syrupy waffle with the side of her fork before popping it into her mouth.
"We just got back from Boston and thought we would visit you two," Sirius said cheerfully, trying to ease the tension.
Suddenly, a loud crash from the sitting room drew their attention. Little Harry had somehow knocked over an end table.
"Harry, you're destroying the sitting room," Bellatrix said dryly, flicking her wand to set the end table back in its place.
"He's getting more destructive," Sirius sighed, watching his godson with a mix of amusement and exasperation.
"The terrible twos, I take it?" Harry asked knowingly.
"Yep. Andy said I'd better get used to it because it lasts for a while," Sirius admitted with a rueful smile.
"Great, we'll have that to look forward to," Harry said tiredly, feeling the weight of impending parenthood.
Sirius stayed a little longer, but by midday, he had to rush off to get Harry down for a nap. As Harry watched Sirius leave, he couldn't help but feel surprised at how easily Bella had forgiven him. Their usual tension made him wonder if Bella's forgiveness was genuine or perhaps part of a larger strategy.
As he cleaned up after breakfast, Harry mulled over the dynamics between Sirius and Bellatrix. He knew their relationship was complex, shaped by years of history and familial expectations. Whatever the case, he resolved to keep an eye on things, knowing that in their world, trust and alliances could shift in an instant.
"You look suspicious," Bellatrix commented after Sirius had left.
"Yeah, I am a bit," Harry admitted, unable to hide his amusement.
"Don't worry, I'm not planning on getting even with him when he least expects it. Forgiving him now could come in handy later on," Bellatrix said with a mischievous grin.
"I see, so basically he owes you and you can use this to ask a big favor later on," Harry clarified, catching on to her strategy.
"Exactly," Bellatrix grinned smugly, a glint of mischief in her eyes.
"Poor Sirius," Harry thought to himself with a grin, imagining the future favors Bellatrix might ask of their unsuspecting friend.
Harry chuckled softly, imagining the playful yet strategic game unfolding between Bellatrix and Sirius. He knew their relationship was built on a complex mix of loyalty, rivalry, and occasional mischief. Bellatrix's ability to forgive Sirius so readily, while harboring her own plans, spoke volumes about her cunning nature.
As he helped clear the breakfast dishes, Harry considered the dynamics at play. In their world, where alliances and debts could shift with the wind, having Sirius owe Bellatrix a favor could indeed prove advantageous down the line. He trusted Bella's judgment and knew she wouldn't exploit the situation unfairly, but rather leverage it wisely when the time was right.
"So, any plans for the rest of the day?" Harry asked, changing the subject as he dried a plate with his wand.
Bellatrix shrugged nonchalantly. "Not really. Maybe catch up on some reading or do a bit of spell practice. What about you?"
Harry nodded thoughtfully. "I might review my notes for the remaining exams. Potions is next, and I want to make sure I'm prepared."
"Smart move," Bellatrix acknowledged with a nod. "Let me know if you need any help with studying. I'm not too bad at Potions myself."
"I might take you up on that," Harry replied gratefully, appreciating Bella's offer of assistance.
As they finished tidying up, Harry felt a sense of camaraderie with Bellatrix, despite the lingering tensions and uncertainties in their world. They were navigating their way through challenges, exams, and personal relationships, bound together by their shared history and future ambitions.
With a nod to each other, they parted ways momentarily, Harry retreating to his study area to prepare for the upcoming exams, and Bellatrix disappearing into the depths of their home, her mind undoubtedly already turning over plans and strategies for the days ahead.
Harry stepped out of the Floo, his expression weary and his movements slow. Today had been his Potions exam, and it had been grueling. He had been tasked with brewing three advanced potions and had even started the initial stages of Polyjuice Potion. Coupled with a four-hour written exam that included three essays, Harry felt completely drained.
Sinking into his favorite chair, he groaned appreciatively as he rubbed his sore muscles, especially from all the chopping and brewing he had done that day.
"You look tired," Bellatrix observed sympathetically as she approached him.
"These exams live up to their name," Harry replied with a chuckle, grateful for her understanding.
"I know. I took them when I was seventeen," Bellatrix smirked knowingly.
"How did you do?" Harry asked, genuinely curious.
"Nine Outstandings," Bellatrix said proudly, her smirk widening.
"You took Astronomy and History?" Harry asked, intrigued by her achievement.
"I come from the Black family, known for their fascination with the stars," Bella remarked with a hint of pride.
"Fair point, but why did you choose history?" Harry inquired curiously.
"I was quite the bookworm in school," Bellatrix shrugged nonchalantly.
"I had a friend like that," Harry reflected, thinking of Hermione.
"So, what's your plan now?" Harry asked, genuinely interested.
"I need to wait for my exams to finish, and then I'm planning to reach out to a magizoologist to explore opportunities in the field," Bellatrix replied, her eyes glinting with determination.
"Do you know any magizoologists?" Bellatrix asked, a hint of skepticism in her voice.
"I know of one," Harry said thoughtfully.
"Newt Scamander?" Bellatrix asked incredulously.
"Yes, I have just the thing to catch his attention," Harry said with a mischievous smirk.
"What might that be?" Bellatrix asked, intrigued.
"A sixty-foot, thousand year old basilisk," Harry said matter of factly.
"Are you insane? I thought you were just going to leave it alone," Bellatrix exclaimed, her brows furrowing in concern.
"Originally, yes. But on second thought, I think it's best if it's removed from the castle. I just won't attempt it alone," Harry explained calmly, though his determination was evident.
"Fine. Are you hungry?" Bellatrix asked, deciding not to argue further.
"Yeah, what's for dinner?" Harry inquired, shifting the topic.
"We're having blackened salmon and steamed broccoli," Bella replied, making a slight face at the mention of the broccoli.
"What about you?" Harry asked curiously.
"I've got shrimp alfredo," Bella grinned, nudging him playfully as she helped him from his chair.
"Where did Jangles learn to cook Italian?" Harry asked in surprise as they made their way to the table.
"Dobby's been teaching me, Master Harry," Jangles piped in from the kitchen doorway.
"Do you think you could learn to make a French dip sub?" Harry asked hopefully.
"I do know how to make them, but you told Jangles to avoid serving you fatty foods," Jangles replied respectfully before retreating back into the kitchen.
"Damn it," Harry cursed inwardly as he took his seat at the table.
"He's right, you know. Can't have you looking like Ted," Bellatrix teased lightly as their food appeared before them.
Clarity—he hadn't felt that in months. The euphoric haze of the Imperius Curse was finally starting to wane. Memories surged through his mind, fragments of the past few months piecing together.
His father had cast the spell on him back at the prison. He recalled Winky, faithfully feeding him every morning and guiding him to the bathroom three times daily.
He remembered his father's grim celebrations upon hearing of Malfoy's death and Fudge's assurances of an impending ministerial position once Bagnold stepped down. His father had developed a drinking problem recently; sometimes he'd rant and blame Barty for his wife's death, while other times he'd pass out in front of the wireless, consumed by drink.
Whenever his father passed out, the grip of the Imperius Curse would weaken. Tonight, it had finally lifted entirely.
Barty Crouch Jr. rose from the bed where his father had ordered him to remain. He knelt and carefully pried up the loose floorboard under his bed. His hand fumbled in the hidden compartment, retrieving the macabre souvenir he had taken from Alice Longbottom the night he had tortured her—the last time he had wielded magic.
Creeping silently from his room, Barty Jr. moved stealthily down the stairs, nearly reaching the living room when there was a soft 'pop'.
Winky appeared before him. Without a moment's hesitation, he raised Alice's wand and cast a piercing hex, striking her in the chest and sending her crumpling to the floor. She wouldn't interfere with his escape this time; he was tired of being imprisoned by his blood traitor father and that infernal elf.
Entering the dimly lit sitting room, he spotted his father slouched in his favorite cushy armchair, a half-empty bottle of Ogden's on the side table, his head drooping as he snored loudly.
With a mixture of resentment and determination, Barty Jr. raised the wand, pointing it at the man who had betrayed him to the Dementors, who would have left him there if not for his mother's intervention.
Savoring the moment, Barty Jr. focused on the deepest desire of his heart and bellowed, "AVADA KEDAVRA!"
He watched with grim satisfaction as the green spell struck the unconscious man, the snoring abruptly silenced.
It was finally time to find his master—the purpose he had been chasing since that fateful night at the Longbottoms' almost a year ago. Frank, in his delirium, had let slip that Dumbledore believed what remained of his master to be hiding in Albania, a feeble attempt to prevent him from torturing Frank's wife.
But it had all been futile. The Longbottoms had been a persistent thorn in their side since '76; they deserved every ounce of suffering for daring to defy his master.
Barty Jr. quietly slipped into his father's room, his gaze scanning for the wand that had been confiscated by the Azkaban warden upon their release last June.
An hour later, Barty Jr. emerged from the front door of his family's two-story brownstone, laden with a backpack containing essentials, a wizarding tent folded neatly beside it, a large sack of galleons clinking with promise, and a heart brimming with determination to locate his master.
"I'm coming, my lord," Barty thought jubilantly, his resolve steeling as he turned on the spot and Apparated away from his childhood home.
As Barty Jr. materialized in a remote, wooded area miles away from his family home, he took a deep breath of the crisp night air. The moon hung high in the sky, casting a silvery glow over the tranquil surroundings. He glanced around, reassured by the solitude that enveloped him.
Setting down his backpack, Barty Jr. carefully unfolded the wizarding tent and began to erect it with practiced ease. The charm-imbued fabric billowed and stretched, forming a spacious shelter against the dark canopy of trees. Satisfied with his temporary sanctuary, he conjured a small fire nearby, its warmth comforting against the chill of the night.
Sitting cross-legged beside the crackling flames, Barty Jr. retrieved the sack of galleons and counted them meticulously. His father's bitterness and neglect had left him with ample funds—enough to sustain him on his quest and secure any necessary assistance along the way.
As he pondered his next move, thoughts of his master filled his mind. Memories of devoted service and anticipation of their eventual reunion fueled his determination. Barty Jr. knew the journey ahead would be fraught with challenges, but he welcomed them eagerly, for they led him closer to his purpose.
With a renewed sense of purpose and resolve, he closed his eyes briefly, envisioning the path that lay ahead. The hunt for his master was now his sole mission, and nothing would deter him from fulfilling his destiny.
Gathering his belongings and extinguishing the fire, Barty Jr. entered the tent, its interior offering a semblance of comfort amidst the wilderness. Tomorrow, he would begin his search in earnest, following any lead that might bring him closer to the one he pledged his allegiance to—the dark and formidable figure whose presence beckoned him onward.
As he drifted into a restless sleep, his dreams were filled with visions of power and conquest, each step drawing him nearer to the elusive master he sought.
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