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batsutousaiTitle: Xerosis
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
batsutousai
Beta:tsuki_no_suzu & magickmaker17
Rating: T
Pairings: Voldemort/Harry (post-Harry/Ginny)
Warnings: SLASH, AU, character death, super!Harry, Dark!Harry
Summary: Harry's world ends at the hands of those he'd once fought to save. An adult-Harry goes back to his younger self fic. Super!Harry
Disclaim Her: Wait, isn't Voldie back? XD
A/N: The whole Trace being on the wizard/witch instead of their wand has always bothered me a bit. I mean, I guess it makes sense in the grand scheme of things, but if that's how it worked, why did the Ministry record Dobby's use of magic as having been Harry's fault? I dunno, it's just one of those little plot holes that Jo forgot to fill. (And the films confuse this even more, having Hermione fix Harry's glasses in Diagon and having Harry practising magic under his bedsheets at home.)
So, in this world, the Trace is on the wand and muggleborn homes have wards around them that catch any magic used within a certain area around the house. It's assumed magical parents can control their offspring, and even if they can't, at least they can keep things from getting out of control.
To lluvia, Harry did swallow a few souls who knew Mandarin, but as stated back in the prologue/first chapter when Death was explaining the gift, it takes many souls to learn a complete language, as Harry only gets bits and pieces of knowledge from each soul, rather than everything they know. So it would be more correct, perhaps, to say that he knows some Mandarin and Li is teaching him more of it.
When I first started writing this chapter, I groaned to myself a bit 'cause there wasn't really anything planned for this year. I thought, 'This chapter is going to be sadly short,' and then it sort of got away from me and it's actually almost a full thousand words longer than last chapter. *facepalm* Maybe you'll all luck out and next chapter will do the same thing, but don't hold your breath. XD
Actually, on second thought, do hold your breath. It'll amuse me.
-0-0-0-
The Bad Man, The Sad Man
-0-0-0-
Harry whistled to himself as he made his way back to the Dursley's house the last day of June. His summer had been great so far: He'd been getting all his mail, Sirius was due to be released the last week of July and Harry had just sucked down the souls of four mundanes that would have seen him dead if they'd had the chance. He'd taken the souls of something like twenty mundanes already this summer and intended to make a trip to Knockturn tomorrow to hunt some vampires.
The Dursleys themselves had been pretty well behaved. Vernon hadn't yet had his expected blow-up, but Harry hadn't been around much while he was home, so there hadn't been many chances. (Harry half expected it to happen over dinner again, really, since that was the only time he and Vernon were in the same room.)
Harry was just outside the blood wards when he heard a whispered "Stupefy" and ducked into the shadow under a nearby tree while the spell splashed harmlessly into a bin. His eyes darted around the area, trying to spot his attacker, but whoever they were, they were staying out of sight. "Bugger," Harry muttered, turning his eyes to the space inside the blood wards. If this person had waited outside the wards to catch him, they probably couldn't get inside.
An overhanging roof threw enough of a shadow for Harry to use it so he shadowed over to it, grimacing as he fell a foot to the ground. He fell into a crouch as soon as he was fully on the ground and again scanned the area past the wards. No one.
This is seriously going to put a damper on my plans tomorrow. If this is Voldemort using one of his people to get around his oath, I'm going to rip him a new one. Harry huffed a bit, then readied himself to jump back into the shadow thrown against the siding above him. He always kept a shadow under his bed in case of emergencies, and if this wasn't an emergency, he didn't know what was.
A quick jump later and Harry was lying uncomfortably under his bed, one hand crushed against the wall. "Sometimes," he grumbled as he pulled himself out, "that's more trouble than it's worth." Once back on his feet, he shuffled through his trunk and pulled out one of the few books he'd yet to read, then fell across his bed, book held to his chest. Perhaps I'll shadow walk to Knockturn tomorrow. The place is always full of dark corners, and there's that one spot in the vampire pub that's always in shadow. It'll be troublesome, but I can go in my Cloak and that should throw them off. He'd taken great care over the years to keep the pub staff from finding out anything about him, lest they find some way to block him from their establishment. The vampires never survived long enough to cause him any trouble, since once their souls were eaten their physical body crumbled to dust, but the pub owners were werewolves, so he left them alone.
For all that Harry sucked souls of vampires and mundanes pretty much indiscriminately, he tended to avoid any other magical being – wizards, witches, werewolves, etc – unless they'd ticked him off in some way. The few times he'd been in the pub, the werewolves had treated him fairly, despite his apparent age, so he had no grievance with them. (Anyway, the longer they stayed alive, the longer the pub would be open.)
If nothing else, Harry could keep his eyes open for wizards hanging out around the neighbourhood. And, if he was lucky, he might catch a Death Eater in Knockturn to question. An evil little smile curled Harry's lips at the thought. I'd quite enjoy a Death Eater snack. Yum.
-0-
Harry didn't manage to catch the stalker for almost another week and, honestly, by that point he was wholly sick of the whole thing. The bastard was very well hidden, and without magic Harry was having quite the time of spotting him from only the readily accessible shadows.
When Harry finally spotted the hunched form, he shadowed to behind him, grabbed the back of his cloak and shoved him bodily against the tree he'd been hiding under. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't rip out your fucking heart," he hissed, the air chilling with his power in his anger.
Slightly crazed eyes looked back at him from a face that Harry had only seen once, but had never forgotten.
"Barty Crouch Jr," Harry murmured, his grip loosening in his surprise.
Barty ducked out of the way and brought his wand around to bear, but Harry had disappeared before the man could form a spell. "Where are you, little Potter?" the man hissed, eyes darting around the area.
"How did you get out of your father's grasp?" Harry wondered from the branches above Barty's head. When the Death Eater pointed his wand up at him, Harry shadowed to a different branch on the other side of the tree. "Oh, wait, let me guess. Voldemort regains his real body and your Mark darkens, giving you the extra jolt needed to shake off your father's Imperius." He shadowed again as Barty spotted him.
"You're well informed for a brat," Barty hissed, eyes narrowed against the gloom.
"And you're looking pretty good for a dead man," Harry retorted from behind the Death Eater. As Barty turned towards him, Harry snatched his wand away and held it between two hands like he was about to break it.
Barty smiled and held up his hands. "I like you, Potter," he decided.
Harry's lips twitched with a smirk, but he didn't change his hold on the wand. "Why are you trying to stupefy me?"
Barty cocked his head to one side. "My Lord wants to talk to you."
"You don't stupefy people you want to talk to," Harry retorted. "He wants you to grab me, why?"
"You're not a normal twelve year old, are you?"
"Eleven. Answer the question."
"That jumping from shadow to shadow, that's a vampiric gift–"
SNAP!
Barty froze as Harry calmly slid the broken wand pieces into his pocket and crossed his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow. "You're getting boring, Barty."
The Death Eater cleared his throat. "I don't know all the details, but he wants you to go missing. Something about assumed dead?"
Harry frowned a bit, considering that. "Assumed dead? What good would that– Oh." Harry's lips curved with a little smile. "That's such an angry Dark Lord thing to do." He chuckled and shook his head, then focussed on Barty again. "Is he currently based in Malfoy Manor, or the muggle house outside Little Hangleton?"
Barty blinked. "Malfoy... Manor..." he admitted, a little disturbed.
Harry nodded, grabbed Barty's arm, then shadowed them to the basement he remembered in the manor. "Lead the way," he requested.
"You sort of scare me," Barty admitted, turning to lead the way upstairs.
"Scaring Death Eaters is my job," Harry retorted. "You're lucky you're not dead, honestly. I dislike being stalked."
"You don't say," Barty muttered, remembering the all-encompassing cold and the murderous intent in the eerie green eyes when the boy had first grabbed him. He wasn't sure who was scarier, his Lord in a temper or the boy behind him.
Barty led the way up to the third floor, portraits looking down on them disapprovingly the whole way. At the door of the room the Dark Lord was residing in, Barty knocked.
"Come," Voldemort ordered.
Barty cringed a bit, then pushed the door open. "My Lord," he said, stepping into the room and bowing.
"Barty," Voldemort hissed. "I do hope you have the boy."
"More like I have him," Harry retorted, stepping into the room behind Barty. A quick look around the room showed him a room painted all black with drapes covering the windows. "You are so tacky."
Voldemort stared at the boy in shock for a moment, then snapped out his wand and hissed, "Crucio!"
The spell hit thin air as Harry darted out of the way, having fully expected that reaction. "I'm beginning to think you're incapable of having a normal discussion," he commented, leaning back against the wall.
"Crucio!"
Harry ducked that curse too, then said, "If you don't bloody-well put that wand away–"
"Crucio!" Voldemort shouted again, starting to sound a little desperate.
Harry avoided the spell, narrowing his eyes. It took only moments for the room to completely freeze over. Over by the door, Barty darted outside, a whimper escaping his throat. In his regal chair, Voldemort gasped in surprise and his wand dropped from shaking fingers. Harry walked calmly forward and picked up the wand, then used it to conjure himself a chair across from the Dark Lord to sit in. Once he was comfortable, he drew back his power.
It took Voldemort some time to come back from his nightmares, but once he was fully in the present again, Harry said, "Are you ready to talk like a civilized person now? Or should I just leave and come back in few years?"
Voldemort drew a shuddering breath and visibly shook himself. "I'm listening, Potter."
Harry smiled coldly. "Excellent. Here's how it stands: I want the muggles gone, same as you. I have no intention of stopping you in whatever you want to do, unless you start attacking any Hogwarts students. I don't care about most of them, but a few are my friends and I'll be most upset if you harm them, so just plan to leave all of them alone.
"Yes, I'm aware of the prophecy. Better yet, I know the whole thing. It goes on about us killing each other, blah, blah, blah." Harry waved his hand negligently. "If we both ignore the bloody thing, it shouldn't be an issue. Just because a prophecy exists doesn't mean it has to come to pass."
Voldemort took a moment to assimilate all that, then shook his head. "Let me get this straight: You're on my side?"
"It would be more correct to say that we're on the same side," Harry corrected.
Voldemort snorted. "Semantics. We both want the muggles dead. You're pretty much useless for another five years–"
Harry scowled. "Useless? Excuse me, but who got the Stone? Who soundly defeated your Death Eater? Who disarmed you without a wand?" He held up Voldemort's wand, which he'd been twirling between his fingers as they spoke. "Just because I'm under age doesn't mean I'm useless."
Voldemort narrowed his eyes at the boy. "Yes, your mysterious ability to freeze the room and recall people's worst memories. It's very dementor-like."
Harry offered the Dark Lord a cold smile. "You don't honestly believe I'm going to sit here and spill all my secrets to you."
"You'd make a poor hero," Voldemort decided. "Very well, Potter, keep your secrets; I'll figure them out eventually."
"I sincerely doubt that."
The Dark Lord looked for a moment like he would have liked to have his wand, but since Harry was still twirling it between his fingers, he relaxed back into his chair. "What exactly do you intend to offer me for my leaving your friends alone?" he asked.
Harry considered that, looking off into the distance over Voldemort's shoulder. After a moment, he focussed back on the man and asked, "What do you want? You have my alliance. Any information I could pass you about Dumbledore you can just as easily get from Snape or your contacts in the Ministry."
Voldemort inclined his head. "Your alliance, you say?"
Harry shrugged. "The only part of that prophecy I have any interest in is where it calls me your equal. I refuse to be ruled by anyone, not even you. I am not one of your servants, for all you've already marked me." He used the wand in his hands to flick his fringe out of the way, then returned to twirling it.
Voldemort sneered. "Equals?"
Harry rolled his eyes. "Why do I bother?" he asked the dark ceiling.
"I don't have any equals."
"And I don't have any betters," Harry retorted. "Unless you're going to start calling me 'Master' and bowing at my feet, you'd best get used to thinking of me as your equal."
Voldemort looked like he might pop a vein.
Harry rolled his eyes, then remembered something he'd almost forgotten. "Oh, yeah! I know something I can do as payment for my friends!"
"What?" the Dark Lord ground out.
Harry smirked a bit. "You had a Death Eater named Regulus Black during your last rise, yes? Well, he somehow found out about your Horcruxes – and, yeah, I know all about those – and went with his house-elf to where your locket was hidden and stole it. I know where the Horcrux is currently being kept."
Voldemort considered him suspiciously. "How did you find out about my Horcruxes?"
"Mmmm... Secret, sorry."
"Potter..."
Harry rolled his eyes. "No one else knows about them, unless you've gone and told someone, so don't get your knickers in a twist. Do you want me to retrieve your locket, or not?"
Voldemort took a moment to glare furiously at Harry, as if it would cow him into submission. Harry just watched him back, getting steadily more amused. Finally, the Dark Lord ground out, "Yes."
Harry nodded. "Three Ravenclaws: Terry Boot, Li Su and Luna Lovegood; and six Gryffindors: Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom and the four youngest Weasleys. So, nine students. Well..." Harry tapped his chin with Voldemort's wand. "And Lillian Moon from Slytherin, but she's practically one of yours already." He smiled. "That's all."
"Ten students for one Horcrux?" Voldemort snorted. "Don't make me laugh, boy."
Harry scowled. "Let me make it more clear, then: Ten students for the locket or I'll destroy both it and the diadem hidden at Hogwarts."
There was a long silence, during which Voldemort's lip curled with utter contempt and if he'd had his wand, he probably would have cast the Killing Curse, oath or no oath. Harry just continued scowling, but his eyes practically glowed with fury.
Finally – finally – the Dark Lord relented. "Very well," he hissed, slouching back into his chair a bit. "But I want the diadem, too."
Harry rolled his eyes, but stood. "Agreed. Two Horcruxes for my friends' lives."
"So mote it be," Voldemort grumbled and their magic snapped with the oath.
Harry tossed the Dark Lord back his wand, which the man caught with some surprise. "I'll be back directly," the boy said as he moved into a corner that was cloaked heavily in shadows.
Harry shadowed first to Grimmauld Place. After using his dementor ability to render the doxies who came to attack him for disturbing their curtains unconscious, he slipped over to the cabinet the locket was held in. The door was locked, but alohomora was one of the few spells he'd been able to master wandlessly, so that wasn't a problem. (And that far away from the wards around Privet Drive, any magic he did wouldn't get picked up.)
Once he had the locket, he stepped back into a shadow and travelled to a usually shadowed hallway in Hogwarts that wasn't far from the Room of Requirement. Just before he stepped into the hallway, he remembered something and groaned; I don't have any way to hide myself. No Cloak, no disillusionment.
Shaking his head at himself, he shadowed to his bedroom, climbed out from under his bed and went over to his trunk. In the most secure section, next to the Cloak and the Map, was his collection of stolen wands from obnoxious wizards and witches. He'd managed to catch another witch – this time one working for a shop on Knockturn – so now had five wands in his collection. He grabbed the one that worked the best for him – the one from the Wizengamot member – and ducked back under his bed to shadow back to Hogwarts.
Once he had the diadem, he shadowed from inside the Room back to Malfoy Manor. He arrived to find Lucius Malfoy kneeling in front of Voldemort. Cocking an amused eyebrow, he leaned back against the wall, wondering both what they were discussing and how long it would take the Dark Lord to notice him.
"–too easy, my Lord," Lucius was saying. "A little gold in his pockets and the man would hand over his own wife for slaughter. The only real problem at this point is Weasley and his Muggle Protection Act."
Voldemort glanced towards the corner Harry was standing in and smirked when he saw him. "And what are your thoughts on this, boy? You really want to protect the children of a muggle-lover?"
From the tensing in Lucius' shoulders and neck, Harry knew the man was trying not to turn around and see who was there. "Just because you are incapable of making friends doesn't mean we all are," he replied, lips curling with a smile. "Anyway, the children are not the father, for all that they share similar genes. Actually, now that I think of it, that's something Snape never quite learned, either." He pushed off against the wall, absently conjuring a bag and dropping the Horcruxes into it. "I brought your goodies."
Voldemort held out a hand for the bag, eyes narrowed thoughtfully. As Harry reached him, the Dark Lord took the bag in one hand, then drew Harry forward by his sleeve, eyes on his wand. "That is not your wand," he commented.
"Hm?" Harry held the wand up and looked it over. It was rather worn around the edges. "No," he agreed, "it's not."
Behind Harry, Lucius let out a faint sound of surprise. "That's Kaus Gumboil's wand. He's been missing for almost two years now."
"Oh, was that his name?" Harry wondered, gently slipping his arm from Voldemort's grip and turning to look at Lucius, whose eyes widened further. "I never knew."
"And what did you do to Mr Gumboil?" Voldemort wondered, amused.
"Mmm..." Harry considered the wand for a moment, then slipped it in his pocket. "I don't think I'll tell you. He was quite naughty, though, selling children in Knockturn Alley." Harry offered the Dark Lord a bright smile. "He tried selling me, but I convinced him it was a bad idea."
Voldemort let out a cackle while Lucius looked at Harry like he couldn't decide if the boy was insane or not. Harry winked at him, just to watch the pureblood choke. "You keep your secrets, Potter. I shall enjoy discovering them," Voldemort decided.
"I'll enjoy watching you try," Harry agreed. Then he turned to Lucius and cocked his head to one side. "You'll have to forgive my ignorance, but how would Mr Weasley go about getting his bill passed? Does it go through the Wizengamot? Or through Fudge?"
"The Wizengamot," Lucius replied, brow furrowed.
Harry nodded to himself, then turned back to the Dark Lord. "No more sending Death Eaters to stalk me or you'll get the next one back in pieces," he warned, getting a cackle out of Voldemort, then he walked back to his dark corner and shadowed to Diagon Alley. A quick glamour spell ensured no one would look at him twice.
It was nothing against Mr Weasley, really, but Harry didn't intend to see his bill passed. He'd always been fond of his eccentric father-in-law, but the man's fondness for mundanes would get them all killed. Harry couldn't let that bill pass.
A floo trip to the Ministry later and Harry was off across the foyer. The Ministry cards in his pocket – he always kept them on him, just in case he ever felt the urge to travel to the Ministry – allowed him to pass the wand registration desk without incident, only recording who had been by. (Harry wished he could be a fly on the wall when they realised that four missing persons had visited the Ministry all at once. It really was a pity they didn't have any sort of visual surveillance system.)
Having worked in the Ministry – even a much changed Ministry – for forty-some years, Harry knew exactly where he needed to go to find information on the members of the Wizengamot. Once in the office, he turned on his vampire charm with the witch behind the desk, flirting with her and subtly slipping in questions about the Wizengamot while utilising Legilimency to learn even more.
An hour and a half later, Harry left the Ministry with a satisfied smile. Now all he needed to do was take out a few of the mundane-friendly members and Arthur's bill would be shot down in no time. The only thing he had to worry about was if they replaced members to make up for those he did away with, but few people were really interested in serving on that body in Harry's time and he doubted the wizarding world had changed that much.
At any rate, he'd keep an eye on matters when he could.
-0-
Harry smirked to himself a bit when Dudley stumbled into the living room on the twenty-seventh of July, as he did every morning. His fat cousin walked over to the telly, turned it on, then made to walk to the couch. He froze the moment he recognised Harry, who was sprawled out quite comfortably on the couch, book on magical Chinese history resting on his stomach in a prime reading position.
"Good morning, Diddy-dums," Harry cooed. "I thought I'd see for myself how comfortable this seat was, since you spend so much time on it. I admit, it's probably better suited to you, what with your rolls of fat and all, but it's relatively nice to stretch out over."
Dudley blinked, then called, "Mum! He's in my seat!"
Petunia came to the doorway, nervously wringing her hands in her apron. "Leave him be, sweetums. He'll be gone soon enough."
"We should have thrown a party," Harry commented, idly pulling the remote out from under the edge of the couch and flipping off the telly. "Sort of a, 'Thank Merlin we're done with each other!' gig. I might have even been talked into baking the cake. Oh well. Too late now."
Petunia had tensed when Harry mentioned 'Merlin' and had paled when he'd commented he would have baked the cake. "Come along, Diddy, luv," she said, focusing on her son. "I've made your favourite for breakfast."
Dudley shot a disgusted look at Harry, but a lifetime of avoidance had taught him that walking away from his cousin was always in his best interest, so he followed his mother into the kitchen without complaint.
Harry chuckled to himself and scooted down a little farther on the couch before returning to his book. He'd miss living at Privet Drive, if only for the amusement factor.
About an hour later, the door bell rang and Harry glanced up from his book to watch his aunt hurry out into the hallway and open the door. "Oh," she sighed, then looked around the corner into the living room. "Your... person is here."
Harry smiled a chilled smile. "My godfather, Aunt Petunia."
She swallowed. "Yes, your god...father..." She grimaced. Vernon had spent the past several days wondering if it was legal for 'freaks' to have god-anythings when he thought Harry wasn't in hearing range. Harry had considered correcting his stupidity, but eventually decided he'd have to kill the man to correct that and he wasn't sure his digestion could handle the man's soul.
Perhaps he'd come back next summer with a carving knife. He had planned to do something terrible to the man on his thirteenth birthday.
But, for now, he had a godfather to meet, so Harry got up and walked over to the doorway. When he saw Sirius, he couldn't help but laugh, as the man had come wearing a mini dress and heels. "I can't believe they had shoes in your size," Harry commented once he'd gotten his laughter under control.
"I had to transfigure them," Sirius admitted, smiling like a loon. "I considered shaving my legs, too, but decided it would be too much of a hassle."
Harry snorted. "I think you look brilliant. Are we apparating, or going by motorbike?"
"Like you even had to ask," Sirius replied, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at where his motorcycle sat at the kerb. "Have you got everything, then?"
Harry nodded. "Trunk's in my pocket."
"Excellent. Let's get the hell out of suburbia, then. Place gives me the creeps." He turned and started down the pavement.
Harry turned to Petunia, smile razor sharp. "It's been lots of fun; here's hoping we'll never see each other again."
Petunia managed a jerky nod and slammed the door shut as soon as Harry was out of the way.
Harry slipped his book into one of his expanded pockets, then hopped onto the bike behind his godfather, absently slipping on the helmet Sirius handed him. "So, I probably don't want to know the answer to this, but... Are you wearing anything under that?"
"Of course not. I'm wearing muggle clothing in true wizarding style!" Sirius declared before revving the motor.
Harry groaned – he really hadn't wanted to know – but wrapped his arms around Sirius' stomach anyway. He'd never ridden with his godfather on the motorcycle before, but knowing how insane the man was...
Sirius hit the gas and they were off like a shot, breezing past stop signs and turning corners at dangerous speeds.
Yup. Harry knew the man was insane. At least he was in good company.
-0-
Neville's birthday party had been rather tame, with only Hermione and Harry there from school. The rest of the guests had been older members of Neville's extended family and there had been very little in the way of 'partying' going on.
Harry's party, on the other hand, had been absolutely insane. He'd basically let Sirius have free reign over the planning, which probably hadn't been his brightest moment, but Harry had never claimed to be completely sane. The dog animagus had invited pretty much the entirety of Harry's year, minus the Slytherins, as well as most of his old school and Order friends and their families. Remus, sadly, had been unable to make it due to the nearby full moon, and he'd been the only person beyond Harry's school friends that he'd cared to see at the party.
"Sirius, I don't even know half these people," Harry pointed out over the music and laughing.
"But it's a lot of fun, isn't it?" Sirius shouted back.
Harry rolled his eyes and slipped back into the fray to find his friends. Next year, he was making the guest list.
-0-
Harry had tried everything to avoid visiting Diagon Alley on the same day as Lockhart's book signing, but to no avail. All of his friends – except Lillian, who was, perhaps, the brightest of the lot – had decided to go on that particular day.
"Can we do Flourish and Blotts first?" Harry pleaded as he and Sirius made their way out into the alley. They were supposed to meet with the Grangers, Longbottoms and Sus – Terry was still staying with Li – at the bank.
"Nope, sorry. No can do," Sirius replied, practically whistling. "Gotta be there for the book signing. Those books could be worth a lot of money one day."
"You are so full of crap," Harry grumbled. "Those books'll be worth more defaced than signed."
Sirius grinned at him. "I really don't know what you have against this bloke. He's got a fantastic smile!"
"Your over-the-top gayness scares me sometimes. Between you and Dumbledore, I'll be scarred for life."
"He does seem a little gay, doesn't he?" Sirius pondered.
"I wonder if Lockhart is gay," Harry mused, tapping his chin. "You two would make a nice couple, him being so pretty and you being... well... you."
Sirius shot Harry an amused look. "Aren't you a little young to be trying to set me up with other blokes?"
"You're never too young for revenge!" Harry declared, an evil idea forming. "You and Snape compliment–"
"OH DEAR MERLIN, MY BRAIN!" Sirius howled, grabbing his head and hunching into a ball in the middle of the street.
Harry whistled to himself and finished walking the last few feet to where his friends and their families were waiting. "Hi!"
"What did you do to him?" Terry wondered, looking over Harry's shoulder with a disturbed look.
"Broke him a little, but don't worry, he's got a self-repairing spell built in," Harry quipped. "Give it another ten minutes or so. For now, perhaps we can gather our money?" He nodded to the bank behind them.
"I can't decide whether or not I'm upset by this," Hermione murmured as the adults traded looks and silently agreed to head inside. "I mean, he's your guardian, but he's also a little..." She trailed off and bit her lower lip uncertainly.
"Completely and utterly mad, is the phrase you're looking for," Terry offered. "Bonkers, even. Off his rocker. Gone round the bend–"
"Yes, thank you, Terry," Li cut in, rolling her eyes. "We get it."
"Do you need Sirius here to go down to your vault?" Neville asked Harry as Terry and the Grangers all peeled off to exchange their money.
Harry shook his head. "Nah. Honestly, I probably don't need to go down at all, but it's always nice to top off my pouch." He pulled his money pouch out of his pocket and jingled it a bit.
"Fùqīn would never let me carry around that much money," Li whispered, eyeing the adults with concern. "He barely allows me a galleon for the sweets trolley."
"Well, I've never had an adult around to tell me how much money I can or can't carry with me," Harry replied with a shrug, stuffing his pouch away as a goblin came to collect them for the trip down. "Anyway, my parents left me a fortune, so I can afford to splurge a little on things like extra books or a pile of chocolate frogs."
"And your godfather will not complain?"
"Sirius?" Harry snorted. "Merlin, no. He's got a fortune all his own, just in case I ever overspend. That cottage we're living in? He bought it when he got released and it barely dented his fortune."
Li stared at him with wide eyes and almost tripped trying to get into the cart. Harry and Neville both reached out to help her, chuckling. Li wasn't anywhere near as poor as the Weasleys, but she wasn't in the same league as Harry or Neville, either, since both of them were from old pureblood families.
When they got back up to the foyer, pockets full of jingling coins, Sirius was standing with the Grangers and Terry, looking a little grumpy. He'd also changed his robes – which had been a fine shade of dark maroon – to a bright, Gryffindor red, with little flashing gold lions.
"My eyes," Harry complained, taking off his glasses and rubbing at his eyes. "Good Merlin, man! Are you trying to blind me?"
"You're already well on your way," Sirius replied with humour, "I figured I'd just speed up the process."
Harry moaned. "I'm not sure I'm talking to you anymore."
They all set out then, generating quite a few stares thanks to Sirius' eye-catching robes. Harry took care to walk directly in front of his godfather so he wouldn't chance being blinded. Sirius made this particularly hard by weaving back and forth a bit so he could get in Harry's peripheral vision, which always got a whimper from the boy.
The few things they needed other than their books were collected quickly enough and then only Flourish and Blotts was left. As they approached it, they could clearly see it was overfull and Harry said, "Hey, it looks pretty packed. Maybe we should come back tomorrow?"
"But I want to meet Lockhart!" Hermione complained, looking hopefully at the shop.
"He is very handsome," Li agreed, smiling a bit.
"I have lost all respect for the both of you," Harry decided.
"You've been out-voted," Sirius commented as Li grabbed Terry's arm and Hermione shoved Neville towards the shop. "You can either keep soldiering on like a good godson, or I'll drag you and you'll have to look at my robes."
"You cheat," Harry complained, but followed his friends and their guardians towards the shop.
Inside was a madhouse, as Harry remembered. Witches were crowded together, jostling for the best view as Lockhart came out and flashed his smile.
"I will be upstairs," Harry informed his godfather before escaping the madness up on the second level, which a number of other wizards were wandering around on. Harry let out a relieved breath; the last thing he needed was to be accosted by Lockhart again. It was bad enough the man would be teaching them this year.
Harry had actually considered hunting the bastard down and sucking out his soul before he could take the post of Defence professor, but Lockhart's popularity made it difficult to catch him alone long enough for Harry to finish him. He'd just have to wait until school started.
Lockhart's voice filtered up from the mass on the ground floor and Harry sighed as he heard the man beginning his usual, 'I'm so awesome, look at my pretty smile,' bit. He felt a tick developing in his left eye and hurried further into the shelves, trying to escape the man's voice.
"Mr Potter," a stiff voice said.
Harry glanced over his shoulder and smirked a bit as he caught sight of platinum blond hair. "Mr Malfoy, what a pleasure. How is your... house guest?"
Lucius cleared his throat a bit. "As well as can be expected. I've heard you've a new living arrangement. How is that working out for you?"
"Idle chit-chat?" Harry wondered, leaning against a bookcase. "How unexpected. Sirius and I get along fine, for all our different views of the world. How did your attempts against Mr Weasley's bill go?"
Lucius narrowed his eyes. "Rather well, actually. A number of Wizengamot members who would have voted for it went missing rather mysteriously a few weeks ago. I don't suppose you'd know anything about that?"
Harry's eyes took on a faintly demonic gleam. "Perhaps they crossed paths with an angry vampire," he suggested. "I'm sure they'll never be seen again, at any rate."
"I'm sure they won't," Lucius agreed, eyes flicking up to look at something behind Harry. "Ah, Draco."
"Father," Draco replied, stepping forward and looking at Harry with some curiosity. "Potter."
Harry smiled faintly. "Draco. I'm surprised you're not downstairs, mocking Ron."
"I'm surprised you even know the weasel's name," Draco retorted.
"Mmm... He came to my birthday party," Harry replied with a shrug.
"Along with everyone else not in the House of snakes, I've heard," the younger blond commented, looking rather like a pouting child.
Harry reached up and gently patted Draco's cheek. "Don't worry, next time I'll be the one making the guest list." Draco flushed a bit in anger as Harry turned back to Lucius. "Give my regards to your house guest."
"Of course," Lucius agreed neutrally.
"See you in a couple weeks, Draco," Harry offered to his yearmate, who still looked a bit upset. Then Harry turned and started back towards the stairs, hoping Sirius was bloody-well done listening to the puffed-up peacock downstairs so they could go home; Harry was afraid his ears were about to start bleeding.
-0-
Chapter Three, Part Two
Chapters:
Pro - If We Could Only Turn Back Time / 1 - Long Road
2 - Never As It Seems |||3 - The Bad Man, the Sad Man ||| 4 - Armies of Robbers and Thieves
5 - Fear Falls Like Rain ||| 6 - Rage Like Fire ||| 7 - Born From Conflict
8 - Reach Any Star ||| 9 - Cold Fields ||| 10 - Ice Inside Your Soul
11 - King of Anything
Author:
batsutousaiBeta:
tsuki_no_suzu & magickmaker17Rating: T
Pairings: Voldemort/Harry (post-Harry/Ginny)
Warnings: SLASH, AU, character death, super!Harry, Dark!Harry
Summary: Harry's world ends at the hands of those he'd once fought to save. An adult-Harry goes back to his younger self fic. Super!Harry
Disclaim Her: Wait, isn't Voldie back? XD
A/N: The whole Trace being on the wizard/witch instead of their wand has always bothered me a bit. I mean, I guess it makes sense in the grand scheme of things, but if that's how it worked, why did the Ministry record Dobby's use of magic as having been Harry's fault? I dunno, it's just one of those little plot holes that Jo forgot to fill. (And the films confuse this even more, having Hermione fix Harry's glasses in Diagon and having Harry practising magic under his bedsheets at home.)
So, in this world, the Trace is on the wand and muggleborn homes have wards around them that catch any magic used within a certain area around the house. It's assumed magical parents can control their offspring, and even if they can't, at least they can keep things from getting out of control.
To lluvia, Harry did swallow a few souls who knew Mandarin, but as stated back in the prologue/first chapter when Death was explaining the gift, it takes many souls to learn a complete language, as Harry only gets bits and pieces of knowledge from each soul, rather than everything they know. So it would be more correct, perhaps, to say that he knows some Mandarin and Li is teaching him more of it.
When I first started writing this chapter, I groaned to myself a bit 'cause there wasn't really anything planned for this year. I thought, 'This chapter is going to be sadly short,' and then it sort of got away from me and it's actually almost a full thousand words longer than last chapter. *facepalm* Maybe you'll all luck out and next chapter will do the same thing, but don't hold your breath. XD
Actually, on second thought, do hold your breath. It'll amuse me.
The Bad Man, The Sad Man
-0-0-0-
Harry whistled to himself as he made his way back to the Dursley's house the last day of June. His summer had been great so far: He'd been getting all his mail, Sirius was due to be released the last week of July and Harry had just sucked down the souls of four mundanes that would have seen him dead if they'd had the chance. He'd taken the souls of something like twenty mundanes already this summer and intended to make a trip to Knockturn tomorrow to hunt some vampires.
The Dursleys themselves had been pretty well behaved. Vernon hadn't yet had his expected blow-up, but Harry hadn't been around much while he was home, so there hadn't been many chances. (Harry half expected it to happen over dinner again, really, since that was the only time he and Vernon were in the same room.)
Harry was just outside the blood wards when he heard a whispered "Stupefy" and ducked into the shadow under a nearby tree while the spell splashed harmlessly into a bin. His eyes darted around the area, trying to spot his attacker, but whoever they were, they were staying out of sight. "Bugger," Harry muttered, turning his eyes to the space inside the blood wards. If this person had waited outside the wards to catch him, they probably couldn't get inside.
An overhanging roof threw enough of a shadow for Harry to use it so he shadowed over to it, grimacing as he fell a foot to the ground. He fell into a crouch as soon as he was fully on the ground and again scanned the area past the wards. No one.
This is seriously going to put a damper on my plans tomorrow. If this is Voldemort using one of his people to get around his oath, I'm going to rip him a new one. Harry huffed a bit, then readied himself to jump back into the shadow thrown against the siding above him. He always kept a shadow under his bed in case of emergencies, and if this wasn't an emergency, he didn't know what was.
A quick jump later and Harry was lying uncomfortably under his bed, one hand crushed against the wall. "Sometimes," he grumbled as he pulled himself out, "that's more trouble than it's worth." Once back on his feet, he shuffled through his trunk and pulled out one of the few books he'd yet to read, then fell across his bed, book held to his chest. Perhaps I'll shadow walk to Knockturn tomorrow. The place is always full of dark corners, and there's that one spot in the vampire pub that's always in shadow. It'll be troublesome, but I can go in my Cloak and that should throw them off. He'd taken great care over the years to keep the pub staff from finding out anything about him, lest they find some way to block him from their establishment. The vampires never survived long enough to cause him any trouble, since once their souls were eaten their physical body crumbled to dust, but the pub owners were werewolves, so he left them alone.
For all that Harry sucked souls of vampires and mundanes pretty much indiscriminately, he tended to avoid any other magical being – wizards, witches, werewolves, etc – unless they'd ticked him off in some way. The few times he'd been in the pub, the werewolves had treated him fairly, despite his apparent age, so he had no grievance with them. (Anyway, the longer they stayed alive, the longer the pub would be open.)
If nothing else, Harry could keep his eyes open for wizards hanging out around the neighbourhood. And, if he was lucky, he might catch a Death Eater in Knockturn to question. An evil little smile curled Harry's lips at the thought. I'd quite enjoy a Death Eater snack. Yum.
Harry didn't manage to catch the stalker for almost another week and, honestly, by that point he was wholly sick of the whole thing. The bastard was very well hidden, and without magic Harry was having quite the time of spotting him from only the readily accessible shadows.
When Harry finally spotted the hunched form, he shadowed to behind him, grabbed the back of his cloak and shoved him bodily against the tree he'd been hiding under. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't rip out your fucking heart," he hissed, the air chilling with his power in his anger.
Slightly crazed eyes looked back at him from a face that Harry had only seen once, but had never forgotten.
"Barty Crouch Jr," Harry murmured, his grip loosening in his surprise.
Barty ducked out of the way and brought his wand around to bear, but Harry had disappeared before the man could form a spell. "Where are you, little Potter?" the man hissed, eyes darting around the area.
"How did you get out of your father's grasp?" Harry wondered from the branches above Barty's head. When the Death Eater pointed his wand up at him, Harry shadowed to a different branch on the other side of the tree. "Oh, wait, let me guess. Voldemort regains his real body and your Mark darkens, giving you the extra jolt needed to shake off your father's Imperius." He shadowed again as Barty spotted him.
"You're well informed for a brat," Barty hissed, eyes narrowed against the gloom.
"And you're looking pretty good for a dead man," Harry retorted from behind the Death Eater. As Barty turned towards him, Harry snatched his wand away and held it between two hands like he was about to break it.
Barty smiled and held up his hands. "I like you, Potter," he decided.
Harry's lips twitched with a smirk, but he didn't change his hold on the wand. "Why are you trying to stupefy me?"
Barty cocked his head to one side. "My Lord wants to talk to you."
"You don't stupefy people you want to talk to," Harry retorted. "He wants you to grab me, why?"
"You're not a normal twelve year old, are you?"
"Eleven. Answer the question."
"That jumping from shadow to shadow, that's a vampiric gift–"
SNAP!
Barty froze as Harry calmly slid the broken wand pieces into his pocket and crossed his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow. "You're getting boring, Barty."
The Death Eater cleared his throat. "I don't know all the details, but he wants you to go missing. Something about assumed dead?"
Harry frowned a bit, considering that. "Assumed dead? What good would that– Oh." Harry's lips curved with a little smile. "That's such an angry Dark Lord thing to do." He chuckled and shook his head, then focussed on Barty again. "Is he currently based in Malfoy Manor, or the muggle house outside Little Hangleton?"
Barty blinked. "Malfoy... Manor..." he admitted, a little disturbed.
Harry nodded, grabbed Barty's arm, then shadowed them to the basement he remembered in the manor. "Lead the way," he requested.
"You sort of scare me," Barty admitted, turning to lead the way upstairs.
"Scaring Death Eaters is my job," Harry retorted. "You're lucky you're not dead, honestly. I dislike being stalked."
"You don't say," Barty muttered, remembering the all-encompassing cold and the murderous intent in the eerie green eyes when the boy had first grabbed him. He wasn't sure who was scarier, his Lord in a temper or the boy behind him.
Barty led the way up to the third floor, portraits looking down on them disapprovingly the whole way. At the door of the room the Dark Lord was residing in, Barty knocked.
"Come," Voldemort ordered.
Barty cringed a bit, then pushed the door open. "My Lord," he said, stepping into the room and bowing.
"Barty," Voldemort hissed. "I do hope you have the boy."
"More like I have him," Harry retorted, stepping into the room behind Barty. A quick look around the room showed him a room painted all black with drapes covering the windows. "You are so tacky."
Voldemort stared at the boy in shock for a moment, then snapped out his wand and hissed, "Crucio!"
The spell hit thin air as Harry darted out of the way, having fully expected that reaction. "I'm beginning to think you're incapable of having a normal discussion," he commented, leaning back against the wall.
"Crucio!"
Harry ducked that curse too, then said, "If you don't bloody-well put that wand away–"
"Crucio!" Voldemort shouted again, starting to sound a little desperate.
Harry avoided the spell, narrowing his eyes. It took only moments for the room to completely freeze over. Over by the door, Barty darted outside, a whimper escaping his throat. In his regal chair, Voldemort gasped in surprise and his wand dropped from shaking fingers. Harry walked calmly forward and picked up the wand, then used it to conjure himself a chair across from the Dark Lord to sit in. Once he was comfortable, he drew back his power.
It took Voldemort some time to come back from his nightmares, but once he was fully in the present again, Harry said, "Are you ready to talk like a civilized person now? Or should I just leave and come back in few years?"
Voldemort drew a shuddering breath and visibly shook himself. "I'm listening, Potter."
Harry smiled coldly. "Excellent. Here's how it stands: I want the muggles gone, same as you. I have no intention of stopping you in whatever you want to do, unless you start attacking any Hogwarts students. I don't care about most of them, but a few are my friends and I'll be most upset if you harm them, so just plan to leave all of them alone.
"Yes, I'm aware of the prophecy. Better yet, I know the whole thing. It goes on about us killing each other, blah, blah, blah." Harry waved his hand negligently. "If we both ignore the bloody thing, it shouldn't be an issue. Just because a prophecy exists doesn't mean it has to come to pass."
Voldemort took a moment to assimilate all that, then shook his head. "Let me get this straight: You're on my side?"
"It would be more correct to say that we're on the same side," Harry corrected.
Voldemort snorted. "Semantics. We both want the muggles dead. You're pretty much useless for another five years–"
Harry scowled. "Useless? Excuse me, but who got the Stone? Who soundly defeated your Death Eater? Who disarmed you without a wand?" He held up Voldemort's wand, which he'd been twirling between his fingers as they spoke. "Just because I'm under age doesn't mean I'm useless."
Voldemort narrowed his eyes at the boy. "Yes, your mysterious ability to freeze the room and recall people's worst memories. It's very dementor-like."
Harry offered the Dark Lord a cold smile. "You don't honestly believe I'm going to sit here and spill all my secrets to you."
"You'd make a poor hero," Voldemort decided. "Very well, Potter, keep your secrets; I'll figure them out eventually."
"I sincerely doubt that."
The Dark Lord looked for a moment like he would have liked to have his wand, but since Harry was still twirling it between his fingers, he relaxed back into his chair. "What exactly do you intend to offer me for my leaving your friends alone?" he asked.
Harry considered that, looking off into the distance over Voldemort's shoulder. After a moment, he focussed back on the man and asked, "What do you want? You have my alliance. Any information I could pass you about Dumbledore you can just as easily get from Snape or your contacts in the Ministry."
Voldemort inclined his head. "Your alliance, you say?"
Harry shrugged. "The only part of that prophecy I have any interest in is where it calls me your equal. I refuse to be ruled by anyone, not even you. I am not one of your servants, for all you've already marked me." He used the wand in his hands to flick his fringe out of the way, then returned to twirling it.
Voldemort sneered. "Equals?"
Harry rolled his eyes. "Why do I bother?" he asked the dark ceiling.
"I don't have any equals."
"And I don't have any betters," Harry retorted. "Unless you're going to start calling me 'Master' and bowing at my feet, you'd best get used to thinking of me as your equal."
Voldemort looked like he might pop a vein.
Harry rolled his eyes, then remembered something he'd almost forgotten. "Oh, yeah! I know something I can do as payment for my friends!"
"What?" the Dark Lord ground out.
Harry smirked a bit. "You had a Death Eater named Regulus Black during your last rise, yes? Well, he somehow found out about your Horcruxes – and, yeah, I know all about those – and went with his house-elf to where your locket was hidden and stole it. I know where the Horcrux is currently being kept."
Voldemort considered him suspiciously. "How did you find out about my Horcruxes?"
"Mmmm... Secret, sorry."
"Potter..."
Harry rolled his eyes. "No one else knows about them, unless you've gone and told someone, so don't get your knickers in a twist. Do you want me to retrieve your locket, or not?"
Voldemort took a moment to glare furiously at Harry, as if it would cow him into submission. Harry just watched him back, getting steadily more amused. Finally, the Dark Lord ground out, "Yes."
Harry nodded. "Three Ravenclaws: Terry Boot, Li Su and Luna Lovegood; and six Gryffindors: Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom and the four youngest Weasleys. So, nine students. Well..." Harry tapped his chin with Voldemort's wand. "And Lillian Moon from Slytherin, but she's practically one of yours already." He smiled. "That's all."
"Ten students for one Horcrux?" Voldemort snorted. "Don't make me laugh, boy."
Harry scowled. "Let me make it more clear, then: Ten students for the locket or I'll destroy both it and the diadem hidden at Hogwarts."
There was a long silence, during which Voldemort's lip curled with utter contempt and if he'd had his wand, he probably would have cast the Killing Curse, oath or no oath. Harry just continued scowling, but his eyes practically glowed with fury.
Finally – finally – the Dark Lord relented. "Very well," he hissed, slouching back into his chair a bit. "But I want the diadem, too."
Harry rolled his eyes, but stood. "Agreed. Two Horcruxes for my friends' lives."
"So mote it be," Voldemort grumbled and their magic snapped with the oath.
Harry tossed the Dark Lord back his wand, which the man caught with some surprise. "I'll be back directly," the boy said as he moved into a corner that was cloaked heavily in shadows.
Harry shadowed first to Grimmauld Place. After using his dementor ability to render the doxies who came to attack him for disturbing their curtains unconscious, he slipped over to the cabinet the locket was held in. The door was locked, but alohomora was one of the few spells he'd been able to master wandlessly, so that wasn't a problem. (And that far away from the wards around Privet Drive, any magic he did wouldn't get picked up.)
Once he had the locket, he stepped back into a shadow and travelled to a usually shadowed hallway in Hogwarts that wasn't far from the Room of Requirement. Just before he stepped into the hallway, he remembered something and groaned; I don't have any way to hide myself. No Cloak, no disillusionment.
Shaking his head at himself, he shadowed to his bedroom, climbed out from under his bed and went over to his trunk. In the most secure section, next to the Cloak and the Map, was his collection of stolen wands from obnoxious wizards and witches. He'd managed to catch another witch – this time one working for a shop on Knockturn – so now had five wands in his collection. He grabbed the one that worked the best for him – the one from the Wizengamot member – and ducked back under his bed to shadow back to Hogwarts.
Once he had the diadem, he shadowed from inside the Room back to Malfoy Manor. He arrived to find Lucius Malfoy kneeling in front of Voldemort. Cocking an amused eyebrow, he leaned back against the wall, wondering both what they were discussing and how long it would take the Dark Lord to notice him.
"–too easy, my Lord," Lucius was saying. "A little gold in his pockets and the man would hand over his own wife for slaughter. The only real problem at this point is Weasley and his Muggle Protection Act."
Voldemort glanced towards the corner Harry was standing in and smirked when he saw him. "And what are your thoughts on this, boy? You really want to protect the children of a muggle-lover?"
From the tensing in Lucius' shoulders and neck, Harry knew the man was trying not to turn around and see who was there. "Just because you are incapable of making friends doesn't mean we all are," he replied, lips curling with a smile. "Anyway, the children are not the father, for all that they share similar genes. Actually, now that I think of it, that's something Snape never quite learned, either." He pushed off against the wall, absently conjuring a bag and dropping the Horcruxes into it. "I brought your goodies."
Voldemort held out a hand for the bag, eyes narrowed thoughtfully. As Harry reached him, the Dark Lord took the bag in one hand, then drew Harry forward by his sleeve, eyes on his wand. "That is not your wand," he commented.
"Hm?" Harry held the wand up and looked it over. It was rather worn around the edges. "No," he agreed, "it's not."
Behind Harry, Lucius let out a faint sound of surprise. "That's Kaus Gumboil's wand. He's been missing for almost two years now."
"Oh, was that his name?" Harry wondered, gently slipping his arm from Voldemort's grip and turning to look at Lucius, whose eyes widened further. "I never knew."
"And what did you do to Mr Gumboil?" Voldemort wondered, amused.
"Mmm..." Harry considered the wand for a moment, then slipped it in his pocket. "I don't think I'll tell you. He was quite naughty, though, selling children in Knockturn Alley." Harry offered the Dark Lord a bright smile. "He tried selling me, but I convinced him it was a bad idea."
Voldemort let out a cackle while Lucius looked at Harry like he couldn't decide if the boy was insane or not. Harry winked at him, just to watch the pureblood choke. "You keep your secrets, Potter. I shall enjoy discovering them," Voldemort decided.
"I'll enjoy watching you try," Harry agreed. Then he turned to Lucius and cocked his head to one side. "You'll have to forgive my ignorance, but how would Mr Weasley go about getting his bill passed? Does it go through the Wizengamot? Or through Fudge?"
"The Wizengamot," Lucius replied, brow furrowed.
Harry nodded to himself, then turned back to the Dark Lord. "No more sending Death Eaters to stalk me or you'll get the next one back in pieces," he warned, getting a cackle out of Voldemort, then he walked back to his dark corner and shadowed to Diagon Alley. A quick glamour spell ensured no one would look at him twice.
It was nothing against Mr Weasley, really, but Harry didn't intend to see his bill passed. He'd always been fond of his eccentric father-in-law, but the man's fondness for mundanes would get them all killed. Harry couldn't let that bill pass.
A floo trip to the Ministry later and Harry was off across the foyer. The Ministry cards in his pocket – he always kept them on him, just in case he ever felt the urge to travel to the Ministry – allowed him to pass the wand registration desk without incident, only recording who had been by. (Harry wished he could be a fly on the wall when they realised that four missing persons had visited the Ministry all at once. It really was a pity they didn't have any sort of visual surveillance system.)
Having worked in the Ministry – even a much changed Ministry – for forty-some years, Harry knew exactly where he needed to go to find information on the members of the Wizengamot. Once in the office, he turned on his vampire charm with the witch behind the desk, flirting with her and subtly slipping in questions about the Wizengamot while utilising Legilimency to learn even more.
An hour and a half later, Harry left the Ministry with a satisfied smile. Now all he needed to do was take out a few of the mundane-friendly members and Arthur's bill would be shot down in no time. The only thing he had to worry about was if they replaced members to make up for those he did away with, but few people were really interested in serving on that body in Harry's time and he doubted the wizarding world had changed that much.
At any rate, he'd keep an eye on matters when he could.
Harry smirked to himself a bit when Dudley stumbled into the living room on the twenty-seventh of July, as he did every morning. His fat cousin walked over to the telly, turned it on, then made to walk to the couch. He froze the moment he recognised Harry, who was sprawled out quite comfortably on the couch, book on magical Chinese history resting on his stomach in a prime reading position.
"Good morning, Diddy-dums," Harry cooed. "I thought I'd see for myself how comfortable this seat was, since you spend so much time on it. I admit, it's probably better suited to you, what with your rolls of fat and all, but it's relatively nice to stretch out over."
Dudley blinked, then called, "Mum! He's in my seat!"
Petunia came to the doorway, nervously wringing her hands in her apron. "Leave him be, sweetums. He'll be gone soon enough."
"We should have thrown a party," Harry commented, idly pulling the remote out from under the edge of the couch and flipping off the telly. "Sort of a, 'Thank Merlin we're done with each other!' gig. I might have even been talked into baking the cake. Oh well. Too late now."
Petunia had tensed when Harry mentioned 'Merlin' and had paled when he'd commented he would have baked the cake. "Come along, Diddy, luv," she said, focusing on her son. "I've made your favourite for breakfast."
Dudley shot a disgusted look at Harry, but a lifetime of avoidance had taught him that walking away from his cousin was always in his best interest, so he followed his mother into the kitchen without complaint.
Harry chuckled to himself and scooted down a little farther on the couch before returning to his book. He'd miss living at Privet Drive, if only for the amusement factor.
About an hour later, the door bell rang and Harry glanced up from his book to watch his aunt hurry out into the hallway and open the door. "Oh," she sighed, then looked around the corner into the living room. "Your... person is here."
Harry smiled a chilled smile. "My godfather, Aunt Petunia."
She swallowed. "Yes, your god...father..." She grimaced. Vernon had spent the past several days wondering if it was legal for 'freaks' to have god-anythings when he thought Harry wasn't in hearing range. Harry had considered correcting his stupidity, but eventually decided he'd have to kill the man to correct that and he wasn't sure his digestion could handle the man's soul.
Perhaps he'd come back next summer with a carving knife. He had planned to do something terrible to the man on his thirteenth birthday.
But, for now, he had a godfather to meet, so Harry got up and walked over to the doorway. When he saw Sirius, he couldn't help but laugh, as the man had come wearing a mini dress and heels. "I can't believe they had shoes in your size," Harry commented once he'd gotten his laughter under control.
"I had to transfigure them," Sirius admitted, smiling like a loon. "I considered shaving my legs, too, but decided it would be too much of a hassle."
Harry snorted. "I think you look brilliant. Are we apparating, or going by motorbike?"
"Like you even had to ask," Sirius replied, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at where his motorcycle sat at the kerb. "Have you got everything, then?"
Harry nodded. "Trunk's in my pocket."
"Excellent. Let's get the hell out of suburbia, then. Place gives me the creeps." He turned and started down the pavement.
Harry turned to Petunia, smile razor sharp. "It's been lots of fun; here's hoping we'll never see each other again."
Petunia managed a jerky nod and slammed the door shut as soon as Harry was out of the way.
Harry slipped his book into one of his expanded pockets, then hopped onto the bike behind his godfather, absently slipping on the helmet Sirius handed him. "So, I probably don't want to know the answer to this, but... Are you wearing anything under that?"
"Of course not. I'm wearing muggle clothing in true wizarding style!" Sirius declared before revving the motor.
Harry groaned – he really hadn't wanted to know – but wrapped his arms around Sirius' stomach anyway. He'd never ridden with his godfather on the motorcycle before, but knowing how insane the man was...
Sirius hit the gas and they were off like a shot, breezing past stop signs and turning corners at dangerous speeds.
Yup. Harry knew the man was insane. At least he was in good company.
Neville's birthday party had been rather tame, with only Hermione and Harry there from school. The rest of the guests had been older members of Neville's extended family and there had been very little in the way of 'partying' going on.
Harry's party, on the other hand, had been absolutely insane. He'd basically let Sirius have free reign over the planning, which probably hadn't been his brightest moment, but Harry had never claimed to be completely sane. The dog animagus had invited pretty much the entirety of Harry's year, minus the Slytherins, as well as most of his old school and Order friends and their families. Remus, sadly, had been unable to make it due to the nearby full moon, and he'd been the only person beyond Harry's school friends that he'd cared to see at the party.
"Sirius, I don't even know half these people," Harry pointed out over the music and laughing.
"But it's a lot of fun, isn't it?" Sirius shouted back.
Harry rolled his eyes and slipped back into the fray to find his friends. Next year, he was making the guest list.
Harry had tried everything to avoid visiting Diagon Alley on the same day as Lockhart's book signing, but to no avail. All of his friends – except Lillian, who was, perhaps, the brightest of the lot – had decided to go on that particular day.
"Can we do Flourish and Blotts first?" Harry pleaded as he and Sirius made their way out into the alley. They were supposed to meet with the Grangers, Longbottoms and Sus – Terry was still staying with Li – at the bank.
"Nope, sorry. No can do," Sirius replied, practically whistling. "Gotta be there for the book signing. Those books could be worth a lot of money one day."
"You are so full of crap," Harry grumbled. "Those books'll be worth more defaced than signed."
Sirius grinned at him. "I really don't know what you have against this bloke. He's got a fantastic smile!"
"Your over-the-top gayness scares me sometimes. Between you and Dumbledore, I'll be scarred for life."
"He does seem a little gay, doesn't he?" Sirius pondered.
"I wonder if Lockhart is gay," Harry mused, tapping his chin. "You two would make a nice couple, him being so pretty and you being... well... you."
Sirius shot Harry an amused look. "Aren't you a little young to be trying to set me up with other blokes?"
"You're never too young for revenge!" Harry declared, an evil idea forming. "You and Snape compliment–"
"OH DEAR MERLIN, MY BRAIN!" Sirius howled, grabbing his head and hunching into a ball in the middle of the street.
Harry whistled to himself and finished walking the last few feet to where his friends and their families were waiting. "Hi!"
"What did you do to him?" Terry wondered, looking over Harry's shoulder with a disturbed look.
"Broke him a little, but don't worry, he's got a self-repairing spell built in," Harry quipped. "Give it another ten minutes or so. For now, perhaps we can gather our money?" He nodded to the bank behind them.
"I can't decide whether or not I'm upset by this," Hermione murmured as the adults traded looks and silently agreed to head inside. "I mean, he's your guardian, but he's also a little..." She trailed off and bit her lower lip uncertainly.
"Completely and utterly mad, is the phrase you're looking for," Terry offered. "Bonkers, even. Off his rocker. Gone round the bend–"
"Yes, thank you, Terry," Li cut in, rolling her eyes. "We get it."
"Do you need Sirius here to go down to your vault?" Neville asked Harry as Terry and the Grangers all peeled off to exchange their money.
Harry shook his head. "Nah. Honestly, I probably don't need to go down at all, but it's always nice to top off my pouch." He pulled his money pouch out of his pocket and jingled it a bit.
"Fùqīn would never let me carry around that much money," Li whispered, eyeing the adults with concern. "He barely allows me a galleon for the sweets trolley."
"Well, I've never had an adult around to tell me how much money I can or can't carry with me," Harry replied with a shrug, stuffing his pouch away as a goblin came to collect them for the trip down. "Anyway, my parents left me a fortune, so I can afford to splurge a little on things like extra books or a pile of chocolate frogs."
"And your godfather will not complain?"
"Sirius?" Harry snorted. "Merlin, no. He's got a fortune all his own, just in case I ever overspend. That cottage we're living in? He bought it when he got released and it barely dented his fortune."
Li stared at him with wide eyes and almost tripped trying to get into the cart. Harry and Neville both reached out to help her, chuckling. Li wasn't anywhere near as poor as the Weasleys, but she wasn't in the same league as Harry or Neville, either, since both of them were from old pureblood families.
When they got back up to the foyer, pockets full of jingling coins, Sirius was standing with the Grangers and Terry, looking a little grumpy. He'd also changed his robes – which had been a fine shade of dark maroon – to a bright, Gryffindor red, with little flashing gold lions.
"My eyes," Harry complained, taking off his glasses and rubbing at his eyes. "Good Merlin, man! Are you trying to blind me?"
"You're already well on your way," Sirius replied with humour, "I figured I'd just speed up the process."
Harry moaned. "I'm not sure I'm talking to you anymore."
They all set out then, generating quite a few stares thanks to Sirius' eye-catching robes. Harry took care to walk directly in front of his godfather so he wouldn't chance being blinded. Sirius made this particularly hard by weaving back and forth a bit so he could get in Harry's peripheral vision, which always got a whimper from the boy.
The few things they needed other than their books were collected quickly enough and then only Flourish and Blotts was left. As they approached it, they could clearly see it was overfull and Harry said, "Hey, it looks pretty packed. Maybe we should come back tomorrow?"
"But I want to meet Lockhart!" Hermione complained, looking hopefully at the shop.
"He is very handsome," Li agreed, smiling a bit.
"I have lost all respect for the both of you," Harry decided.
"You've been out-voted," Sirius commented as Li grabbed Terry's arm and Hermione shoved Neville towards the shop. "You can either keep soldiering on like a good godson, or I'll drag you and you'll have to look at my robes."
"You cheat," Harry complained, but followed his friends and their guardians towards the shop.
Inside was a madhouse, as Harry remembered. Witches were crowded together, jostling for the best view as Lockhart came out and flashed his smile.
"I will be upstairs," Harry informed his godfather before escaping the madness up on the second level, which a number of other wizards were wandering around on. Harry let out a relieved breath; the last thing he needed was to be accosted by Lockhart again. It was bad enough the man would be teaching them this year.
Harry had actually considered hunting the bastard down and sucking out his soul before he could take the post of Defence professor, but Lockhart's popularity made it difficult to catch him alone long enough for Harry to finish him. He'd just have to wait until school started.
Lockhart's voice filtered up from the mass on the ground floor and Harry sighed as he heard the man beginning his usual, 'I'm so awesome, look at my pretty smile,' bit. He felt a tick developing in his left eye and hurried further into the shelves, trying to escape the man's voice.
"Mr Potter," a stiff voice said.
Harry glanced over his shoulder and smirked a bit as he caught sight of platinum blond hair. "Mr Malfoy, what a pleasure. How is your... house guest?"
Lucius cleared his throat a bit. "As well as can be expected. I've heard you've a new living arrangement. How is that working out for you?"
"Idle chit-chat?" Harry wondered, leaning against a bookcase. "How unexpected. Sirius and I get along fine, for all our different views of the world. How did your attempts against Mr Weasley's bill go?"
Lucius narrowed his eyes. "Rather well, actually. A number of Wizengamot members who would have voted for it went missing rather mysteriously a few weeks ago. I don't suppose you'd know anything about that?"
Harry's eyes took on a faintly demonic gleam. "Perhaps they crossed paths with an angry vampire," he suggested. "I'm sure they'll never be seen again, at any rate."
"I'm sure they won't," Lucius agreed, eyes flicking up to look at something behind Harry. "Ah, Draco."
"Father," Draco replied, stepping forward and looking at Harry with some curiosity. "Potter."
Harry smiled faintly. "Draco. I'm surprised you're not downstairs, mocking Ron."
"I'm surprised you even know the weasel's name," Draco retorted.
"Mmm... He came to my birthday party," Harry replied with a shrug.
"Along with everyone else not in the House of snakes, I've heard," the younger blond commented, looking rather like a pouting child.
Harry reached up and gently patted Draco's cheek. "Don't worry, next time I'll be the one making the guest list." Draco flushed a bit in anger as Harry turned back to Lucius. "Give my regards to your house guest."
"Of course," Lucius agreed neutrally.
"See you in a couple weeks, Draco," Harry offered to his yearmate, who still looked a bit upset. Then Harry turned and started back towards the stairs, hoping Sirius was bloody-well done listening to the puffed-up peacock downstairs so they could go home; Harry was afraid his ears were about to start bleeding.
Chapter Three, Part Two
Pro - If We Could Only Turn Back Time / 1 - Long Road
2 - Never As It Seems |||
5 - Fear Falls Like Rain ||| 6 - Rage Like Fire ||| 7 - Born From Conflict
8 - Reach Any Star ||| 9 - Cold Fields ||| 10 - Ice Inside Your Soul
11 - King of Anything
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