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batsutousaiTitle: Stand Against the Moon
Fandom: Harry Potter
Author: Batsutousai
Rating: Mature
Pairing: Harry Potter/Lord Voldemort
Warnings: Violence, character death, Dark!Harry, werewolf!Harry, AU, ending of questionable happiness, underage sexual relationship (depending on the way you tilt your head)
Summary: Cursed against his will, Harry made the best of his life until he found himself, again, wandering in Death's realm. When Death offers him a second chance, a chance to right the wrongs he'd been blind to for too long, he can't possibly refuse.
Chapter Seven – Determining Boundaries
-0-
When Harry woke from his post-new moon sleep, he found an unusually tall pile of post awaiting him on his desk. He groaned and got up, calling, "Kreacher!"
The house-elf appeared off to one side, where he wouldn't be in the way of Harry getting clothing for the day. "Master Lord called?"
The lack of snarky comments when Harry opened his wardrobe caught him off guard, and he shook his head with a smile upon recalling that Riddle had the chatty locket. "Yes. Since I have so much post, and I doubt Sirius or Remus are of a mind to chat with me right this moment, I'll take lunch up here. If one of the two ask after me, mention only my post as my excuse, please."
"Kreacher understands," the house-elf replied before vanishing to collect Harry's food.
When Harry got to his desk after relieving himself and changing, he found a sandwich and some fresh chips with a thermos of pumpkin juice and smiled fondly at the attempt to limit any mess around his paperwork. "Thank you, Kreacher," he murmured, knowing the house-elf would hear, ears ever-tuned to Harry's words.
Harry started in on the post as he ate, quickly finding them to, for the most part, be variations on the question 'What should I call Voldemort?' Most of them wanted to know if Harry would be upset if they used one of the magical humans' address for him – You Know Who or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named – as that was more comfortable for them than using Voldemort. Others wanted to know if he found it offensive if they referred to him as the Dark Lord, as that was what his servants called him in the first war, or 'my Lord', given that Harry was technically their lord, not Voldemort.
Harry had to stop eating because he found himself laughing over how bloody concerned his people were about this. Honestly, he didn't care one way or the other how they referred to Riddle, beyond them being respectful enough that he didn't attack them to save face in front of humans. Harry could never be offended by his people using whatever was most comfortable, and since his title as Alpha Lord was born from prophecy and not his own ambition, he hardly cared whether his people reserved the title of 'my Lord' for him alone, or shared it with another.
After weeding out those few questions pertaining to something else, Harry penned a general response, then used the Elder Wand to duplicate it enough times that everyone would receive a copy. Another flick and a clever spell that another Hermione had taught another him while he'd been trying to instil facts about werewolves in magical humans, and the copied letters had vanished from his desk, one sent to each person who had sent him the question.
The bulk of letters were banished to the bin and Harry returned to eating while he gave proper attention to the rest of his post. Four were from people uncomfortable with Voldemort's policies, one was from someone asking for more information about Voldemort's policies, and the last two were unrelated inter-coven disputes that he'd been off-and-on mediating for the past couple months.
To the four concerned with Voldemort's policies, Harry requested simply that they agree to neutrality in regards to Riddle and his people until such a time as the Ministry was out of the way, whereupon they were more than welcome to take their grievances out on the lot.
To the request for information on Voldemort's policies – incidentally from a vampire of Carmilla's era, who had been in South America during Voldemort's first rise and only cared about happenings in England because of Harry – Harry explained Riddle's belief in the superiority of all-magical blood. He did mention that many of Riddle's followers thought poorly of non-humans in general, but that he would be putting his foot down about that matter or there would be no alliance. Either way, Riddle intended to take out the current magical human government, which suited the non-human agenda, so the alliance was profitable in the short term.
Now that he had the Elder Wand, Harry felt secure in offering to apparate out to the covens that were having trouble – all half-joking suggestions that he could travel there via the Realm of Death had been met with immediate and uncompromising refusals – and manage in person what they were having little luck doing through post.
With his post out of the way, Harry brought his empty dishes down to the kitchen – ignoring Kreacher and Pinky's insistence that they could have collected it – then left for the Burrow after making sure the house-elves knew to pass on his whereabouts should anyone ask.
"What I can't understand," Sirius said as Harry pulled his Cloak out of the box Bill had sent with it and the diadem in its special-made case, "is why you thought it was a good idea to give Voldemort back one of his horcruxes."
Harry resisted the urge to sigh, having been expecting this question since he'd promised to give the locket back. "Two reasons. One, I am not dealing with a cornered, paranoid Dark Lord just because I like having his immortality to hold over his head. Two, if he's got one of them, he's less likely to go around creating a half-dozen more as a preventative measure."
"But he'll hide the locket somewhere and we'll never find it," Sirius complained.
"At least we know what the locket is," Remus insisted in return. "I'd rather lose access to a horcrux we know about, than be required to hunt down a handful that we know nothing of. Though–" he turned to Harry, bringing him to stop in the process of standing, having been intending to put the diadem away and leave Remus to talk sense into Sirius "–how likely is he to go making more horcruxes?"
Harry finished straightening. "So long as I don't destroy any, I suspect he'll probably make one more so he has his preferred seven-part soul–"
Sirius let out a sickened sound while Remus winced.
Harry shrugged. "Yes, well, it's his soul. If he holds to form, it'll be a snake and he'll use it to see to any missions he doesn't trust his Death Eaters with. I admit to being a bit surprised that he wasn't more demanding about, at the very least, making sure the others were still whole, but Carmilla suggested that one of her childes told him he needed to play nice around me, so that's likely got something to do with it."
Sirius shook his head. "Or he thinks he'll know if one of them is destroyed."
Harry snorted and turned towards the stairs. "He won't," he reported before going up to his room. 'Though,' he admitted to himself, 'if my collecting them is healing his soul a bit, it's possible, I must suppose, that he would notice the destruction of one.'
Well, it hardly mattered; when Harry acted, Riddle wouldn't have a chance to do anything about it before he was dead.
Riddle didn't attend the September meeting, but he did show up in October in time to watch Harry rip out the heart of a vampire who had decided to challenge him, insisting his use of doorways to other realms and wizarding magic to kill dissenters was indicative of a weak leader. Harry had decided that turning his right hand into a claw and yanking the man's heart out through his back was the proper response.
"Are these meetings always this much fun?" Riddle was asking as Harry returned to the bar, observing the undead heart in his hand.
"Only when some fool thinks him or herself a match for the Alpha Lord," Carmilla replied before raising an eyebrow at Harry. "What is so of interest that you must remain so dirtied?"
"Hm?" Harry glanced down at the blood covering his robes, then looked up and raised an eyebrow at her. "Don't even start with me, Countess. You're just jealous I won't let you lick it off."
Carmilla let out a sniff and looked away. "How uncouth."
Harry chuckled and motioned to wandlessly conjure a box to store the heart in, then held his bloodied hand out to her. "Go on, then." While she set about licking blood off his hand, giving up on pretence, Harry turned to Riddle and flashed him a smile. "Hello again, Tom."
Riddle let out an irritated hiss. "Must you, Potter?"
"It amuses me," Harry replied with a shrug. "Anyway, you have an irritating habit of referring to me by a name that I don't, actually, make common knowledge around here."
Riddle scowled. "Is that your less-than-subtle way of saying you will cease with your use of my birth name if I cease in my use of your last name?"
Harry waved his free hand at Riddle. "I can promise not to use 'Tom', but it's actually super difficult to think of you as 'Voldemort' when you look like that, so I can't promise I won't slip and call you 'Mr Riddle'." He rolled his eyes. "Anyway, you really do need to get over this complex of yours. So your father was a mu–"
Riddle covered Harry's mouth with a hiss. "Don't," he ordered.
Harry sighed and waited until Riddle moved away before saying, "Complex."
Riddle hissed out some rather unflattering comments about Harry's parentage, and Harry would have responded, but it occurred to him that he'd not been able to understand Parseltongue when he'd found a snake in the garden of the Burrow the year before, and yet he was understanding Riddle perfectly, could even tell for certain it was Parseltongue. 'Death?' he requested mentally.
"Master."
'How can I suddenly understand Parseltongue?'
"Death transcends all language, Master, and you have, again, mastered me."
'You are being deliberately coy, Death,' Harry complained, because that didn't really answer anything.
Death cackled, the sound echoing obnoxiously enough inside Harry's mind that he winced. "Consider it a gift, Master."
'Ah. My most humble thanks, then,' Harry decided. Though... 'Not the runic book?'
"You would be cross with me, would you not, were I to simply hand you that answer."
Harry let out a chuckle and shook his head. 'True enough,' he agreed.
"Alpha Lord?" Carmilla asked, bringing Harry out of his mind. "Are you well?"
Harry blinked, then grimaced when he realised he'd chuckled out loud. "Ah. Yes, fine. Sorry, had a thought." He glanced to see that his hand was clean, flashed her a fond smile, then used the Elder Wand to clean his robes and any blood that had marked his face. Another spell saw the bar top and the outside of his new box cleaned as well.
"Why keep the heart?" Carmilla enquired, eyeing the box curiously.
Harry shrugged and picked the box up. "There's a ritual I was vaguely interested in performing that requires a relatively fresh heart. I don't remember the book saying it couldn't be a vampire's heart, but I'll look it back over."
"What is this ritual, P– Harry?" Riddle asked, lips thinning at his slip.
"Oh, I doubt you know it," Harry said, waving a negligent hand. "Bit obscure."
"I specialised in obscure rituals, boy."
Carmilla let out an irritated sound. "Take care, Dark Lord, how you refer to the Alpha Lord."
Harry sighed and offered Riddle a helpless look. "It's your tone, more than the term," he commented, because older werewolves calling him 'pup' never bothered her, and it meant the same thing as 'boy', essentially. "As for the ritual, there's only one copy of it, and I have it."
Riddle looked torn for a moment before he said, voice stiff, "I don't expect you'll share it."
Harry considered that for a moment, then grinned. "I doubt it'll do you any good, but I might as well look up the ritual while I'm thinking of it. Kreacher?" As soon as the house-elf appeared on the bar, and before one of the Bloody Eyetooth house-elves could complain about him trying to steal their recipes or whatever rot, Harry requested, "I need Death's book."
Kreacher vanished with a nod.
"Death's book?" Riddle asked while Carmilla let out a quiet sound of displeasure.
The book appeared in front of Harry, very carefully set to the side of the box with the heart. "Excellent. Thank you, Kreacher."
"That's one of Abraxas' books," Riddle said, frowning.
Harry snorted. "And now it's mine. I, ah, liberated it with another book Lucius had in his study that I wanted. You know the one, I expect."
"You have a habit of stealing people's things and calling them yours," Riddle informed him with a scowl.
Harry rolled his eyes and opened the book to the page with the ritual he wanted. It would speed up his ageing, stealing the life energy from the heart to power the ritual without causing a constant drain on the caster. Humans would probably question his unexpected physical maturity when he started Hogwarts, but he was tired of trying to lead the non-humans while he was a child. There weren't any warnings about using a vampire heart – that he saw – so he figured he was in the clear.
"Yes, I expect you would like that ritual," Riddle scoffed.
Harry stared at him for a moment, disbelieving, then jabbed his finger at the pages opened in front of him. "You can read this?"
Riddle sneered. "Of course I can."
"Death!" Harry called, because that was naturally his reaction to finding out that Riddle could read a book that no one but Harry himself was supposed to be able to read.
"I should have foreseen that," Death commented from behind Harry, close enough that his scythe was curved over Harry's shoulder, glinting out of the corner of his eye.
Carmilla gave up all pretence and left her stool for a nearby table of discomfited vampires. Riddle looked, Harry saw as he turned towards Death, torn between wanting to escape and wanting to know what had disturbed Harry so much.
Death tapped Harry's chest, the click of bone against the Stone muted by the fabric of his robe. "His soul is in direct contact with a Hallow. It would make sense that he would absorb the knowledge necessary need to use my magic."
Harry tilted his head to one side. "Huh. Now, why did neither of us think about that sooner?"
Death shrugged. "Other concerns, I expect."
"True enough," Harry agreed with a shrug of his own. "It hardly matters, I suppose. Thank you, Death."
Death cupped his cheek for a moment before fading away.
As Harry turned back to his book, Death's voice echoed in his head: "I would suggest against using a vampire heart, Master. A young human is far to your preference."
He nodded a bit absently and waved the Elder Wand at the box with the heart, vanishing it.
"Po– Harry," Riddle snarled grabbing his shoulder tight enough that a human child would have bruised.
An angry growl rose up behind them and Harry cocked an eyebrow at the Dark Lord. "I would let go if you don't want to be mauled," he suggested. Riddle immediately let go, snatching his hand back, and Harry glanced over his shoulder with a fond smile, silencing the growling.
When Harry conjured a quill to make a notation in the book about a child's heart being the best option, Riddle hissed, "What was he talking about? What's wrong with my ring?"
"Nothing that you, yourself, didn't do to it," Harry replied with a shrug. "I assume you're familiar with The Tale of the Three Brothers."
Riddle scoffed. "Fairy stories."
Harry raised an eyebrow at him. "You've met Death, Riddle. And you and I are both related to one of the brothers; you to Cadmus, I to Ignotus."
Riddle's eyes narrowed, glinting with greed. "Give me my ring back, Potter."
"After you polluted it and abandoned it in a shack?" Harry retorted with a snort. "Not on your life, Tom."
Riddle leaned forward until he and Harry were sharing the same air. "I will see you dead one day, you little wretch."
Harry smiled, teeth sharp, eyes shining gold in their reflection in Riddle's own eyes. "I'd say I welcome the challenge, but I expect it will serve a most unsatisfactory attempt on my life. All the same, you're welcome to try. Perhaps I'll bite you and watch you become doubly dirtied, as according to your creed."
Riddle's eyes flashed crimson for a moment before he shoved away from the bar and stormed from the pub, evidentially not so far lost in his anger that he forgot how dangerous it would be to actually attempt violence on Harry in front of a room full of non-humans who called him lord.
"Ah," Harry murmured with a note of regret, "more's the pity."
"You're playing with fire there, my Lord," Carmilla warned quietly as she slipped back onto her stool.
"Oh, I know," Harry agreed cheerfully. "To his shame, however, Voldemort's bark is far worse than his bite."
"I wouldn't be too sure about that."
Harry smiled at her and reached up to brush his knuckles against her cheek. "Your concern is appreciated, my Lady, but ultimately unnecessary. Are you, yourself, not fond of saying that people should stop underestimating me?"
"There is more than one Lord with great power in this world, Alpha Lord, who one should take care not to underestimate."
Harry hummed a vague agreement and flipped through rituals until a group of vampires stepped into the pub, intent on speaking with him.
Riddle was absent during both the November and December new moons. Harry rolled his eyes and muttered about children to himself, then crafted a figure of Voldemort, as he'd been during the first war, holding a golden platter on which rested Dumbledore's head and sent it to Kenric Nott to pass on – with the Alpha Lord's regards – for Riddle's birthday.
"P–Harry," Riddle said as he slipped onto the open chair at Harry's side during January's new moon.
Harry ignored him while he finished listening to the Forbidden Forest air sprite who had nearly killed herself trying to get to Knockturn Alley in time for the new moon. She was friends with a couple of tree sprites who had been having some trouble with the acromantula, which had decided to expand their nest to include their trees. Appeals to Hagrid hadn't gone far, so she'd decided to try the only other person who she thought might be able to do something for them.
"I make no promises, but I'll talk to them," Harry offered with a grimace. "Regretfully, Hagrid may be right about there being nothing that can be done to keep them from spreading, but I may be able to move the endangered trees far enough away that they should be safe." Or just kill off all the acromantula; of all of those non-humans who fell under his purview, the giant spiders would always be his least favourite. The only reason he was considering handling the matter with limited violence was his fondness for Hagrid.
The sprite bowed her head. "That is more than the half-giant would promise, my Lord. Thank you."
Harry nodded and looked towards the fireplace, where a few werewolves were lined up to use the floo. All of them were regulars – those who'd come to ask Harry something usually stopped coming around dinnertime, especially in the winter, when the vampires came out earlier – so he was familiar enough with each of their schedules and personalities to know who would be best willing to handle his request. "Meghan! Can you make a run through Hogsmeade for me?"
The werewolf in question looked up, black eyes curious. "Certainly, Alpha. What do you need me to do?"
Harry jumped off his stool and walked over, the sprite held protectively in his cupped hands. "Let Moria off there, so she doesn't have to fly back all the way on her own," he explained.
The sprite let out a broken sob and hugged Harry's thumb. "Thank you, Alpha Lord," she whispered, so quietly a human wouldn't have been able to hear her.
Meghan grinned, as fond as most of the non-humans were of Harry's kindness. "Of course, Alpha. Come along, Moria." She held out her hands for the sprite.
"I'll come out sometime this week," Harry promised as the sprite traded hands. "Thank you, Meghan."
"It's no problem, Alpha," Meghan insisted before taking her turn at the floo.
Harry returned to the bar and snatched one of the biscuits off the plate that had appeared in front of Riddle – clearly, Harry wasn't the only one who'd developed an addiction to them – then grinned at the Dark Lord's irritated look. "Welcome back, Voldemort. Did you enjoy your birthday present?"
"Oh? You're doing birthday presents now?" Carmilla wondered, looking over from where she'd been watching Edmund mix some sort of concoction for a young vampire which included at least four different muggle spirits, butterbeer, and what smelt suspiciously like a blood supplement potion. (Harry'd decided pretty early on that he was better off not asking. Ever.)
"Only for people under seventy," Harry returned easily around his stolen biscuit, not even caring that it was impolite.
Riddle snorted. "It was worth a laugh, though I believe young Theodore is scarred for life."
"Oh? From hearing the nightmare-inducing Dark Lord laugh like a normal human?" Harry wondered and Riddle let out a cackle. Harry chuckled himself and stole another biscuit while Riddle wasn't paying attention. "I'm sure he'll get over it before he actually has to see Dumbledore every day, assuming you don't get tired of playing hermit and end the old fool before Theodore and I start Hogwarts."
Riddle raised an eyebrow at him. "You were intending to attend?"
Harry shrugged. "My guardians are insisting, something about it being the 'thing to do', I think." Which was actually true, and a fairly constant debate in their house, because Harry knew everything already and Hogwarts would get in the way of his Alpha Lord duties but, when it came down to it, they all knew the magical humans would freak if he wasn't on the train when he was expected to be. He snapped his fingers, mind jumping to a related topic that he'd meant to bring up with Riddle earlier. "Actually, speaking of Hogwarts, if you have a way to keep Snape from knowing you're about, it would be to your benefit. He rather sold his soul to Dumbledore in return for skipping Azkaban."
Riddle scowled. "Severus is far too anti-muggle to dance to the old fool's tune."
"Be that as it may, you killed the woman he loved," Harry replied, pointing to himself. "And while you and I know you offered to spare her – multiple times, actually, which was really quite kind of you – Snape doesn't. And since you'd never tell him so, and he'd never believe me if I told him, he's playing traitor." Harry tapped his chin while Riddle hissed unpleasant things under his breath. "I don't foresee him being a problem for long, admittedly; as soon as he pisses me off, I'll arrange an 'accident' for him. And I don't expect it to take him long to piss me off."
"Short temper, Harry?" Riddle asked in a faux sweet voice.
Harry snorted. "Not hardly. But he hates both of my guardians. Given that Remus isn't an out werewolf, that would be a rather sensible line of attack, don't you expect? Drop a few hints the first class and watch the smart kids scramble for the answer just to prove themselves. The way the Hogwarts rumour mill moves, the entire school will know by the end of the day, and the Prophet will be announcing it by the beginning of the next week."
Riddle waved a biscuit at Harry, unknowingly tempting Harry to snatch it away just to prove he could. "Well, then. It seems I can simply twiddle my thumbs for a few years and let you deal with my little spy problem on your own."
Harry rolled his eyes, distracting his hands with his mostly empty butterbeer bottle. "Lovely. And your continuous play at being a hermit?"
Riddle considered that for a moment, then shrugged. "I suppose it's about time I started my people moving towards my intended goals. Any of my other former followers you believe will prove difficult?"
Harry thought back to his memories of another war in another reality. "Karkaroff will run when you call him," he murmured, and Riddle let out a sound that suggested he already knew that. "His current position, however, makes him valuable. If you can get someone into Durmstrang to keep an eye on him, it may be worth keeping his traitorous hide attached to his bones and in one piece."
Riddle nodded, eyes distant. After a moment, he said, "Durmstrang has been known to count non-humans among their staff, though they won't accept them as students. If we clear a position, can you fill it?"
Harry glanced over the room behind them, but the person he had in mind had already left. "Likely, but let me check for certain. It can wait for the moment, I expect."
"I have no interest in setting off anyone's Dark Mark at the moment if I've got two traitors waiting for the sign," Riddle growled, voice gone low and cold.
Harry snorted, mentally shifting gears to the last of the issues that had found followers defecting in that other reality: "I know you devalue the importance of familial bonds, but your followers will not. Those with children will wish to keep them safe, and may not approve of them wishing to join you once they are of age."
Riddle let out a disgusted hiss. "What cowardice is this?"
Harry eyed him with amusement. "Riddle, you went shopping for Slytherins, and are honestly surprised when some of them decide to put the survival of their progeny above your agenda? If you were looking for unfailing loyalty, you should have drafted Hufflepuffs."
"Regretfully," Riddle bit out, "you have a point." He rubbed angrily at his eyes. "That is manageable, now I am aware it may prove problematic. Any other wisdom?"
Harry shrugged. "I doubt either of us needs me involving myself with your Death Eaters, given my age and identity, but it will behove you to warn them that you are allies with the Alpha Lord and that I don't take well to hearing about humans abusing my people." He flashed Riddle a too-sharp smile. "Incidentally, house-elves fall under my purview."
Riddle grimaced, likely as aware as Harry about how little most purebloods thought of house-elves and how poorly they treated them. "I shall take that under advisement and pass it on."
Harry snorted. "If someone's a house-elf that's giving them trouble, I can find an alternate home for it. Likewise, if any non-human is causing difficulty, let me know and I will handle them myself."
Riddle nodded and stood. "Was there anything else?"
Harry considered that for a moment, then shook his head. "Not that I can think of. If you need me for anything between new moons, send me an owl. So long as you don't attach any curses, it'll get through the wards."
"Very well," he agreed and left through the door out to the street.
"You know," Harry said as he grabbed the last biscuit off Riddle's abandoned plate, "I do think I like it better when he doesn't stalk off in a huff."
Carmilla sighed and kissed his cheek. "Perhaps then, Alpha Lord, you should avoid giving him reason to do so in future."
Harry offered her a helpless smile. "Ah. Yes, I suppose that would help, wouldn't it?"
"Generally."
By the beginning of April, Riddle had contacted all of those Death Eaters he decided were useful at the moment and had them working through the Ministry at their leisure. The werelion Harry'd had in mind to take a position at Durmstrang finished with her current batch of students just before the full moon, so Harry invited her and Riddle to join him at Bloody Eyetooth the afternoon of the fourth so they could sort out Durmstrang.
The werelion arrived first, her eyes sharp and glinting gold from the recent full moon. "Alpha Lord," she greeted coolly.
Harry didn't take offence, already familiar with her unfriendly nature. "Hello, Erica. Thank you for coming. How was your moon?"
Erica's nose twitched. "Uneventful, as one might hope."
"And your former students?"
"One of my kits, as well you should know, intends to take up residence in one of your way houses. The other will remain with the pride for the time being." She let out a faint growl. "May we cease with the small talk?"
Harry held up his hands in surrender, offering her a soothing smile. It never seemed to work on Erica, but he always tried anyway.
Riddle finally breezed in, looking strained. "How do you always manage to play nice, Po– Harry?"
"It's far more natural for me," Harry offered with a shrug as he motioned for them to follow and led the way up to the warded rooms on the first floor. "Though I admit to some surprise that you're even trying."
"I know better than to irritate werewolves so soon after the full moon," Riddle returned.
"It is so to your sorrow that our Alpha Lord is ever of the moon's temperament," Erica commented, gold-flecked eyes glinting.
"You suggest your moon makes you all childish, then?"
"Merlin protect me from suicidal fools!" Harry complained, barely stopping long enough to activate the wards on the room before he got between them. "You," he said to Riddle, "were just saying you knew better than to irritate werefolk so soon after the moon. And you," he added, turning a narrowed gaze on Erica, "sit down and fucking behave."
Erica's jaw clenched even as she tilted her head up and to the side, showing her surrender by baring her throat before walking over and taking a seat at the table.
When Harry turned back to Riddle, the Dark Lord sneered at him, but obediently took a seat at the table himself.
Harry took a moment to rub tiredly at the bridge of his nose, then took his own seat. "Voldemort, this is Erica Pride, a werelion and one of the most sought after tutors amongst werefolk." The two traded jerky nods and Harry resisted the urge to curse them both. "Erica, as I told you in February, we need you to serve at Durmstrang for a while. The current headmaster, Igor Karkaroff, is one of Voldemort's marked followers, but he turned traitor at the end of the war in exchange for his freedom. His current position is useful to Voldemort and myself, but we need someone we trust keeping him in check."
"With respect, Alpha Lord, I do not believe the Dark Lord trusts me," Erica pointed out stiffly.
"But I do," Harry insisted and she turned a surprised look on him. He smiled at her, then glanced at Riddle, whose neutral expression seemed a little strained. "Voldemort is trusting my judgement in this." Riddle gave a jerky nod, not pleased about having to trust Harry and his people, but aware that he didn't have much choice, as none of his own people were teacher material. Even Snape would have been better served looking into another position, had Dumbledore not tied him down with the stated intention of making him protect Harry when he became a student. (Not that Harry ever intended to tell Riddle that part.)
"And full moons?" Erica requested, her manner easing some.
"Countess Sanguina assures me there is a coven headed by one of her childes which shares some land with Durmstrang. They will be able to provide aid at night, should you need it, and they have access to a floo node that will allow you to return to your pride for the moon. Countess Sanguina herself has promised to take your place the night of the moon and keep an eye on Karkaroff."
Erica flashed him a toothy smile, as familiar – if not more so – as Harry with Carmilla's eccentricities. "Sanguina's agreeing to play sitter? I do hope the female students are dispensable."
Harry rolled his eyes. "You let me worry about my Lady's appetites, Erica. You just worry about keeping Karkaroff in the castle and ensure he keeps on task if Voldemort gives him any orders. A copy of which will also be given to you, so you know if he's to be doing anything."
"What sorts of orders?" Erica demanded, looking at Riddle.
"Nothing more stressful than 'ensure this student shares our ambitions', I expect," Riddle reported with a wave of his hand that was probably intended to look careless, but his wrist was held a little too stiffly to pull it off. "If a student or member of the staff becomes a complication, there may be a kill-order sent. Depending on the politics surrounding the complication, the orders may be for Karkaroff, or they may be for yourself and the vampire coven to handle. In the case of the latter, those orders will go through Harry."
"Essentially," Harry agreed.
"So copied orders will come from the Dark Lord, orders for myself will come through my Lord," Erica clarified.
"Yes."
She nodded and looked down to pick at her nails. "When do I start?"
"As soon as we finish dealing with the current Charms professor," Riddle replied as he stood. "Po– Harry, were you coming?"
Harry shrugged. "Of course."
"I intend to apparate. Will I be side-alonging you–"
"I'm capable of apparation," Harry interrupted drily.
Riddle stared at him for a long moment before snapping, "You're seven!"
Erica cackled as she stood herself. "Have you not learnt yet, Dark Lord, to never underestimate the Alpha Lord?"
"Seven," Riddle insisted, apparently unable to move past this fact, while Harry disengaged the wards.
Once Shrill had been called to take the room key, they all apparated to the small town outside the Durmstrang wards. Riddle shook his head at Harry once they'd all arrived in one piece and Harry flashed him a toothy smile before pulling out his Cloak and sweeping it around himself.
"Of course you have all three," Riddle muttered as he cast a Point me to find the professor in question.
The murder of the man was clean, Riddle casting the Killing Curse as soon as they were away from any witnesses. From there, it was but a short walk to Karkaroff's office. The man didn't recognise Riddle, of course, but an application of Cruciatus was apparently proof-positive, and a shaking Karkaroff hired Erica on the spot.
"Was there a reason for your presence?" Riddle asked as they left the school grounds and Harry pulled off his Cloak.
"Beyond reassuring Erica that this entire production had my stamp of approval?" Harry returned somewhat jokingly. Riddle sneered at him and Harry rolled his eyes before explaining, "I wanted to get Karkaroff's scent, so if we have to manage a manhunt for him, I can find him if he happens to be smart enough to hide his magical signature."
Riddle slowed to a stop next to a boulder resting against the side of the path and leant back against it. "Not a bad point," he decided before shaking his head and shooting Harry an irritated look. "I am not continuing to call you by your first name, Potter."
"I accept 'Alpha Lord'," Harry pointed out cheerfully.
"I will push you off the side of this mountain," Riddle threatened, though he didn't even tense to move, as aware as Harry that his words were empty.
Harry rolled his eyes. "Egotist," he muttered before offering, "My guardians dubbed me 'Sol Eyes', for the fact that my eyes turn gold when I lose my temper, no matter the strength of the moon."
"Sol as in sun?" Riddle clarified, looking thoughtful.
"Mm-hm."
Riddle nodded. "Lord Sol, then."
Harry snorted. "As you please. Just so long as you're not going around giving away who I am." He motioned to summon a doorway to the Realm of Death, far preferring that mode of travel to apparation. "If there was nothing else?"
"No."
"Then I will see you at the moon's dark," Harry offered before leaving to handle a dispute in southern France; the days following the full moon had a bad habit of being busy with cleaning up pack reshuffling that occurred while werewolves were slaves to their animal selves.
Stand Against the Moon Chapters:
Prologue - Like a Ghost in My Town
1 - Procuring Freedom | 2 - Exeunt From Hell, Stage Left | 3 - Never Quite Perfect
4 - Drop the Shades | 5 - The Little Victories | 6 - Uneasy Alliance
10 - Absence | 11 - Eye of the Storm | 12 - No Regrets
Nose to the Wind Chapters:
01 || 02 || 03 || 04 || 05 || 06 || 07 || 08 || 09 || 10
11 || 12 || 13 || 14 || 15 || 16 || 17 || 18 || 19 || 20
21 || 22 || 23 || 24 || 25 || 26 || 27
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