Levitating him from the stretcher, Elizabeth Greengrass and Madam
Pomfrey placed Harry on the bed in the hospital wing as two more
specialised healers from St Mungo's came through the Floo to help.
"Oh, Sweet Merlin!" breathed one of the Healers as he scanned the
boy. "How is he even alive?"
"What's wrong with him?" asked Sirius worriedly.
"He's been tortured, Minister, very, very badly," muttered Healer
Thomson. "Multiple counts of Cruciatus and other torture curses,
broken bones, internal bleeding, trauma to the nerves, deep cuts on
the upper torso with a knife, and he seems to have been whipped,
too many times to count. His injuries are severe."
"Can you treat him?" asked Amelia desperately.
"We'll do our best, but we can't guarantee anything," he said gravely,
conjuring privacy screens. Vanishing the boy's torn clothes, they
began the long process of healing him.
"Who?" asked Amelia through gritted teeth, her eyes blazing with
fury.
"Voldemort," spat Sirius. "He's back."
"Right under our noses," she said furiously, nails digging into her
palm. " This was why the Death Eaters had been quiet. They had
been planning this moment to the letter."
At that moment, Cyrus Greengrass entered, along with Daphne,
Dylan, Dumbledore and McGonagall.
"Sirius, how is he?" inquired Dumbledore.
"This is the result of Voldemort's torture, so what do you expect?"
snapped Sirius. "Cyrus, could you stay here with Harry? We need to
take care of this. If Voldemort has indeed regained a body –"
He stopped mid-sentence when Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt entered
the room, interrupting him. "Minister, Director Black," said the Auror
in his deep voice. "Barty Crouch has been captured. You wouldn't
believe this, but it's his own son! Barty Junior is alive and has been
using Polyjouice Potion to act like his father."
"Mother Magic, be merciful!" Amelia exclaimed in alarm. "There is no
telling how much information he might have gained from the Ministry
archives! Barty Crouch Senior was the Head of the Department of
Internation Magical Cooperation. He had access to classified
information and if his son has someone coerced his father into giving
him the passcodes to access them ..."
"Place the Ministry under lockdown! No one enters or leaves the
building without my express authorization. Tell Head Auror
Scrimgeour to meet me at my office. I'll contact Director Croaker and
be there soon," ordered Sirius.
"Yes sir," said Kingsley briskly as he quickly walked out.
"We need to contact the old guard," said Dumbledore firmly. "Sirius,
the Order –"
"I am the Minister of Magic, Albus," said Sirius, annoyed. "I don't
have time to play errands for you. I know the Order is important and I
will support it but I also have a country to run. Do what you can and
I'll meet you later to discuss this. I do not want the Ministry
compromised. Cyrus –"
"Don't worry, Sirius," Cyrus assured him. "Elizabeth and I will remain
here until Harry recovers. We won't leave his side."
"Thank you," said Sirius gratefully. With that, he and Amelia quickly
made their way out of the hospital wing. Dumbledore seemed to be
thinking hard about something but nodding to himself in
determination, he too walked out. Daphne and Dylan were sitting
together, leaning against the other as they stared into the distance,
lost to the world. They had not forgotten the sight of Harry's beaten
and bloody body that was on the grounds ... the stark contrast of him
smiling and laughing just several hours before brought tears to
Dylan's eyes. The fact that his father, uncle and aunt could have
been responsible for this was too much to bear.
Hugging Daphne tightly as she rubbed his back in a soothing
gesture, he cried silently on her shoulder. Daphne too couldn't help
but shed tears. She did not know if Harry was going to make it out
alive.
"D-Daphne is Harry going to be o-okay?" asked Dylan, his eyes red,
sounding very much like a young child as he hiccupped.
"I don't know, Dylan," said Daphne quietly, as tears rolled down her
cheeks. When Astoria entered the hospital wing, Daphne grabbed
her sister in a hug too. They sat there, not knowing what to do, as
they waited ... waited for any news about Harry's recovery.
More than three and a half hours later, the four exhausted healers
stepped out from behind the privacy screens. The specialised
healers muttered instructions to Madam Pomfrey and made their
way to the Floo. Elizabeth collapsed in an armchair next to her
husband as the matron disappeared into her office.
"How is he?" asked Cyrus softly.
"He's stable for now," said Elizabeth quietly. "But when we began
healing him, we thought there was no way he was going to stay alive
for more than an hour. We were astounded when his inherent magic
began helping us heal his injuries. He's very determined, even when
near death. It will take time but with enough help, we believe he will
make a full recovery."
"Is he in pain?" Daphne whispered, trying to keep her voice steady.
Elizabeth grimaced. "No potion can negate the effects of the
Cruciatus Curse, Daphne. I don't know how long he was under the
curse, but from our scans, we can infer that it was pretty long. Don't
expect him to be the same after he wakes up; he may not be the
same Harry Potter you remember. There is a possibility that he has
suffered brain damage that we may not have detected yet."
"Nothing will happen to him," said Dylan firmly. "Harry will be fine! No
amount of torture can ever break him, I know it!"
No one said anything to that heartfelt declaration because all of them
were hoping that Dylan was right.
Harry groaned softly as he felt himself wake up. The first thing he
registered was acute pain all over his body. Then the realisation hit
him that he was finding it hard to breathe. He squeezed his eyes
shut when he felt blinding pain shoot up his body from his testicles,
nearly paralysing him. He took several deep breaths, ignoring the
pain in his chest to combat the pain elsewhere. The unique smell of
a hospital made him realise that he was probably at Hogwarts. With
a lot of difficulty, he opened his eyes, confirming his whereabouts.
The sight of the school's hospital wing greeted him, along with
several familiar faces.
Cyrus and Elizabeth Greengrass were sitting in armchairs by the
fireplace, both clearly asleep. Astoria had taken a bed for herself and
she too was fast asleep. To his left was Daphne, sitting in a chair by
his bed and using the mattress as a pillow. To his right was Dylan,
resting his head on Harry's arm, refusing to let go as he slept. When
he tried to move, Harry winced in pain. Dylan's eyelids twitched at
the movement and slowly opened. Blinking the sleep from his eyes,
he realised with a start that Harry had regained consciousness. Not
wanting to wake anyone who was sleeping, Dylan pressed the locket
hanging around his neck, which cast a privacy charm around them. It
took all of his self-control to not rush into his brother's arms and give
him a hug.
"How are you feeling?" asked Dylan softly as he helped Harry sit up.
"Fine, I think," Harry replied in a raspy voice, wincing in pain as his
delicate, abused flesh came into contact with the pillows. It hurt even
to touch and breathe.
"You always say that you are fine, even when you're not," Dylan
grimaced. "Here, drink this. Madam Pomfrey told us to give it to you
if you woke up during the night."
"Can I have some water first?"
Dylan nodded and flicked his wand, making the self-refilling water
jug pour water in a glass. Once done, he took the glass and gently
placed it at Harry's lips, making his brother sip the water slowly, not
wanting to increase the pain Harry obviously felt in his chest. Dylan
then took the goblet of potion and helped Harry drink it too.
"Thanks, Dylan," said Harry softly. "Where's Sirius?"
"Ministry. When you told him that Voldemort was back, they captured
Barty Crouch and now they're doing their best to secure the Ministry.
He and Aunt Amelia gave us strict orders not to leave you."
Harry chuckled but coughed violently instead. He looked at the
concerned face of the younger boy and smiled slightly. Extending his
arms just a little, he whispered, "Come here."
Dylan wrapped his arms around his brother, silent tears rolling down
his cheeks. "D-Did my father do this to you?" he asked, dreading the
answer.
"No. Rabastan didn't touch me. Voldemort used the Cruciatus Curse
once, but the rest of it was all Bellatrix and Rodolphus."
Somehow, that didn't make Dylan feel any better. His own uncle,
Dylan's own blood, had done this to Harry!
"What's my prognosis?"
"I don't know," said Dylan, wiping the tears from his eyes. "They said
no potion would help with the after-effects of the Cruciatus Curse.
Lady Greengrass said they could be some brain damage, but I'm
hoping that's not the case. Harry, I'm so sorry ..."
"Don't be an idiot, Dylan, this wasn't your fault. It was mine to have
not expected this. It certainly could have been avoided – had I been
smart and been prepared for it. I can't believe that I was so expertly
fooled. His words are still ringing in my ears."
"What did he say to you?"
"He offered to accept me as his son," said Harry in a monotonous
voice, staring at the blank wall. "He said that it was a mistake to
have tried to kill me all those years ago, but instead, he should have
kidnapped me to raise me as his own son. We're so alike it is
unnerving, he said, and I have to agree with him – partly. He was
referring to the similarities between me and Tom Riddle, not me and
Voldemort. I wonder how my life would have been like had he
actually done so. Then again, I do wonder how my life would have
been like had my parents lived to raise me themselves."
Harry was suddenly reminded of what Dumbledore had told him
several months ago, right after he had been taken to the
headmaster's office after his fight with Hermione Granger. When
asked as to why he couldn't bury his anger at Dumbledore, Harry
had coldly replied that it was difficult not to hate the man who had
made his life miserable, and that what-if scenarios always played in
his mind. Had Dumbledore made the right choice and let him be
raised by Sirius from the start, then the issue of the Dursleys would
never have come into play, thus leading to Harry not hating the
headmaster. The words Dumbledore had spoken then had been
brushed aside by the teenager, but he could understand the wisdom
behind the aged wizard's words now.
' It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, Harry ... always
remember that.'
"Harry ... don't you hate him?" asked Dylan, looking incredulous.
Harry's eyes darkened as he felt his anger building. While it was true
that he respected Tom Riddle, Voldemort was a whole different
person.
"Yes, I hate him," he said in a low voice. "I've become soft. He knew
exactly where to push my buttons and if not for my skills and some
amount of luck, I would not have escaped that graveyard alive. The
incident tonight made me realise that the monster who I met tonight
was not the little boy I have seen in my memories. Voldemort is a
deranged, power-hungry rabid dog that needs to be slaughtered !
And I swear in the name of Mother Magic, I'll get my revenge!"
"But Uncle Sirius has still not found the locket!" whispered Dylan
urgently.
Harry paused. He had a point. They had no idea where the locket
was and unless it was destroyed, Voldemort would never truly die.
"Maybe there are other ways to destroy him without having to
destroy the locket. We'll have to look into it."
"He used you to try to get to me, you know," Harry added quietly
after a pause.
"What do you mean he used me to get to you?"
"Voldemort has a lot of information about me and he was able to
judge me accurately by observing my actions over the years and the
relationships I have with different people. When I said he knew how
to push my buttons, I meant it. You know how much I loathe child
abuse. He tried to reach out to me and manipulate me through it; I
could sense that. He also knows how much I care about you; how
much you mean to me. He asked me what I would do if you joined
him. Would I be willing to join him if you asked me to? To protect
you?"
"I would never do that!" spat Dylan passionately. "Do you take me for
a fool? I know that my father, uncle and aunt would kill me the
moment I step in front of them. Voldemort did this to you and there is
no one more important in my life than you, Harry! You're my brother,
my father, my hero, all wrapped in one. You have done so much for
me, embraced me, loved me, and I won't turn my back on you – now
or ever. So you can forget about me joining Voldemort and us being
on opposite sides of the war, understood? You better get used to me
being by your side all the time because I'm not leaving you! I will
never betray my brother! "
A hint of a smile formed on his lips. "No one could ask for a better
brother than you, Dylan," Harry said softly, pinching the boy's cheek
affectionately. "That really means a lot to me. Thank you."
Dylan grunted, his voice thick with emotion, as he helped the older
Ravenclaw lie down again. Sitting down on the chair by the bed, he
placed his head on the mattress as he tried to go back to sleep. He
felt Harry's hand on his head, with his brother's fingers stroking his
hair for a few minutes, and Dylan fell asleep, not knowing the
conflicting emotions that were raging in the mind of his father
regarding him, yearning to meet his son.
Severus Snape entered Dumbledore's office, looking pale and
shaken, still twitching in several places. Dumbledore, who had been
talking to someone on his mirror, deactivated it as he helped his spy
sit down on the chair.
"I take it didn't go well?" asked Dumbledore.
"The Dark Lord was pleased with the information I was able to give
him," said Snape in a quiet voice. "But he was already well informed
about a lot of things. Apparently, he did not waste time like we
originally thought and has been preparing for over a year. As for the
torture, it is something everyone had to go through. The Dark Lord is
angry, very angry that Death Eaters who had braved Azkaban for
twelve years still came to find him but we did not."
"Hmm ..." said Dumbledore, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "Any
information about his plans for Harry?" he asked.
Snape's lip curled at the mention of Harry Potter. "The Dark Lord has
given strict orders that he is not to be touched," said Snape
emotionlessly. "I sense that something happened between the boy
and the Dark Lord at the graveyard, though I'm not sure what. All the
Death Eaters including Bellatrix agreed with him immediately. There
are currently no plans for capturing the boy but no doubt the Dark
Lord is planning something. Meanwhile, he wants to hear the
prophecy in its entirety and asked me if I had found out the other
half. He was – displeased – that I did not know it, so he now wants to
gain access to the prophecy sphere that, according to Rookwood, is
in the Department of Mysteries."
Dumbledore started out of the window, looking thoughtful, but did not
comment.
"The prophecy orb might be in his plans, but there are various other
matters which take precedence over this," said Snape. "I will also
have to prove my loyalty to him by giving information on the Order.
He expects results – similar to what happened in the last war."
Dumbledore grimaced. No, he made that mistake once and he
wasn't about to do it again. The members of the Order of the
Phoenix had all been battle-hardened warriors during the last war –
the Prewett twins, Benjy Fenwick, Caradoc Dearborn, Dorcas
Meadows, Edger Bones, Marlene McKinnon, Frank and Alice
Longbottom, James and Lily Potter – all of them were powerful and
talented duellists. He had tried to draw more fire to the members of
the Order, hoping they could fight in order to protect the general
population but he had been wrong. They had all been picked off one
by one by the Death Eaters and Voldemort himself. That had been a
very big and costly mistake, one which he didn't want to repeat.
"I'll have to think more about this," said Dumbledore. "But there is a
way to make you more valuable to Voldemort. I assume he doesn't
like the way the Aurors are being trained ever since Sirius became
Minister?"
Snape did not answer.
Dumbledore felt a major headache coming on, but he could see no
other alternative. If he had to save lives, other sacrifices had to be
made. The students had survived this long without a good teacher –
not counting the last two years – so they could do so for another
year or two. Hopefully, they would be smart and study on their own,
which was all he could hope for.
"How would you like to be the new Defence Against the Dark Arts
teacher, Severus?"
"How are you feeling, Potter?" asked Madam Pomfrey, scanning him
with her wand.
"I'm f-f-fine," Harry stammered, though his voice was still hoarse.
"But I wouldn't mind something that would reduce the pain."
Madam Pomfrey sighed. "All your internal injuries have been healed,
but the after-effects of the Cruciatus Curse will decrease only in
about a month's time. There are still some lingering symptoms, like
the occasional stuttering, body pain and headaches, but in time, I
believe you will make a full recovery."
"What about the pain I feel in my lower regions?"
"Where exactly does it hurt?"
Harry grimaced, his face and neck gaining colour. "My genitals," he
told her quietly. "And the s-s-surrounding area, I guess … and – well
– I have a burning sensation in my arse."
"It's called the Faux Castration Curse, Potter," she replied grimly. "As
you know, in wizarding culture, it's considered an insult to Mother
Magic to damage any witch or wizard's reproductive organs. Even
the worst criminals who would kill mercilessly wouldn't dare attempt
it, since it's believed that it would taint one's bloodline by doing so.
However, this curse, a very obscure curse, at that, seems to be an
exception to them. It targets the genitals, known mainly to
practitioners of the Dark Arts, and mimics the pain of castration.
That's what you're currently experiencing."
Madam Pomfrey took a deep breath. "I must say I've never met
someone with your level of pain tolerance, Potter. Anyone else would
have begged me to sedate them so that they could sleep through it.
Back to the curse; physically, your testicles have swelled and you're
experiencing a constant erection that wouldn't go away. The effects
have spread, which is what is causing the burning sensation you feel
from the insides of your buttocks and upper thighs. This curse is so
rare that it took us quite some time just to identify it. When you were
asleep, the St Mungo's healers consulted various experts from
around the world, but everyone came to the conclusion that there's
no wand-based or potion-based counter-curse for this. There's a
salve that helps with the Cruciatus exposure, to a degree, and that's
the only option we have to decrease your pain. I'm really sorry,
Potter, but you have to let the curse run its course."
Harry remained silent for a minute while Daphne and Dylan looked at
him worriedly. Finally, he gave the matron a stiff nod.
With a flick of her wand, Madam Pomfrey summoned a glass jar
which contained a silvery paste inside. "This is a salve that should
lessen the pain. Have someone apply this all over your body for the
next six to eight weeks for the Cruciatus exposure. For the Faux
Castration Curse, use the salve liberally and apply it on your
genitals, inner thighs and the anus at least four to five times a day.
Keep yourself clean and unclothed, as the charms on your garments
will interfere with the healing process. Now is not the time to be shy.
If you're in a public place and being nude isn't an option, I suggest
you use clothes that don't have magic weaved into them but keep it
brief. Also, I know I'm asking for a lot, but I must insist that you don't
overexert yourself for at least the next five days. Healer's orders!"
Daphne silently accepted the jar offered to her. After instructing them
on how to use it, Madam Pomfrey returned to her office. Dylan
removed the hospital blanket covering Harry's body and helped him
stand upright. Both hissed as they saw the whip marks that covered
the area from just below the shoulders on his back to his upper
thighs. There were more whip marks across Harry's torso, and his
testicles had indeed swelled to more than twice its usual size, having
been cursed by Rodolphus to bring more agony to the already
injured wizard. By a stroke of luck, however, his penis seemed to be
physically unaffected, but the effects of the curse ensured that it was
still painfully erect. The other wounds on his body were a different
matter altogether.
"I really hope you heal quickly," the younger boy muttered, wincing at
the sight before him. There was no telling how much pain Harry was
in, but both knew that it wasn't in his character to complain. Dylan
applied the salve all over his brother's backside while Daphne did
the same to his chest and stomach. Fifteen minutes later, when it
was time to deal with the effects of the Faux Castration Curse, Harry
squirmed uneasily. Daphne patiently coaxed him to relax and
instructed him to spread his legs wider for them, but he refused to do
so.
"I'm your fiancée," Daphne said softly, when she realised just how
uncomfortable he was. "And Dylan is your brother. I know this is
embarrassing for you, Harry, but don't you want the pain to reduce?"
"I should be doing this on my own!"
"If Madam Pomfrey thought you were capable of that, she would
have said so. You can do it yourself in a week or two, once you've
healed enough. But for now, let us help you. Please realise that it's
only us; only me and Dylan, no one else. You've never been shy
about your body before –"
"I'm not shy about being naked in front of you both! It's –"
"– the feeling of helplessness," Dylan finished, looking crestfallen
and guilty once more. "I get it, Harry, I really do. But you're in
obvious pain, we both see it! And I know that I would be
embarrassed if I were in your position too, but I beg of you … just for
the next couple of months, let us help you. Please , Harry? Only if
you heal will you be able to fight Voldemort."
Exhaling in frustration – and coughing heavily once more – he
reluctantly spread his legs wider.
As he expected, the searing pain shooting up his body became
worse when Daphne alternated between stroking his erect penis and
caressing his testicles while applying the silvery paste, with Dylan
lathering it on the insides of thighs and buttocks as Madam Pomfrey
had instructed him to do. Despite how generously his brother had
covered the area with the salve, Harry's anus still felt like it was
being exposed to open flame. The pain from his genitals, even from
the slightest touch by Daphne's fingers, made him flinch. He had his
eyes closed in obvious embarrassment, face burning, and his form
trembling. His breath hitched every few seconds in agony.
After ten painful and highly embarrassing minutes later, the two of
them withdrew. Just as they helped him sit down on the bed
comfortably, the door to the hospital wing unlocked with a click and
Sirius, Amelia and Dumbledore entered. All three looked horrified as
they took in the various injuries the Triwizard champion had suffered.
Unperturbed by his state of undress, Harry exchanged hugs with his
godfather and honorary godmother.
"How're you feeling?" asked Amelia softly, tussling his hair
affectionately.
Harry coughed violently again and the pain in his chest increased.
After pausing for a few moments, he replied in a hoarse voice, "I've
heard that question too many times and again, I'm fine, relatively
speaking. Exhausted, but fine. Don't worry, Aunt Amy. I'll heal in a
few days."
Sirius grimaced; this was par for the course for Harry Potter. The boy
hated feeling weak and thus, never acknowledged the pain he
obviously felt. He felt incredibly guilty for his godson's current state.
"What happened after I came back to Hogwarts? What's going on?"
After taking a deep breath, Sirius began. "We reacted as soon as
you arrived. Thanks to your warning, Barty Crouch has been
captured and interrogated. He revealed a lot of information, but
Voldemort was quite smart in placing him there. Crouch Junior had
an entire year to go through classified information, including details
about the Auror force, Muggle-born homes and Ministry ward
schemes, to name a few. The biggest leak – and the most
dangerous one – is the configuration of the sensor net around Britain
and Ireland. We still don't know the extent of the information leak
because there is a secrecy oath blocking it, but we hope to get there
soon. But we can discuss that later. First, we would like to know what
happened the minute you touched the Portkey."
Harry nodded, gripped Daphne's hand tightly, and began explaining
what had happened in a monotonous voice. He wondered why
Dumbledore's eyes seemed to light up in triumph when he
mentioned that Voldemort took his blood for the ritual; as far as he
was concerned, that was the biggest disaster of the night. They all
remained silent after his speech, while Dumbledore looked
thoughtful.
"We might get a better picture of what we're dealing with if we can
examine Harry's memory of the event."
"No," said Harry flatly. "I won't be sharing my memory of the event
with anyone."
Sirius and Amelia looked at each other worriedly, contemplating on
whether they needed to send Harry to a Mind Healer again.
Dumbledore simply raised his eyebrows, looking at Harry
introspectively. There was something in that memory which Harry did
not want him to see; he could sense it.
"There is no information in the memory which is relevant to you. He
did not talk about his plans with me but you already have a pretty
good idea, I'm sure. There is nothing in that memory that will interest
you, sir."
"We've already got people working on it," Amelia took over. "We are
monitoring the borders for any incoming giants, but I can already say
that we will have no luck with the werewolves. Dementors ... we're
still thinking about what to do because right now they're still at
Azkaban. Anyway, a press statement was given this morning about
Voldemort's resurrection. People are in denial, but it won't be for
long. Panic will grip them soon enough and the country will be in
turmoil."
"I have contacted the members of the Order of the Phoenix," said
Dumbledore quietly. "We will have a meeting soon to see what can
be done. The first thing we need to do is find a place to hold our
meetings. Hogwarts is not secure; there are too many chances for
the information being leaked. What we need is a secure home with
established wards which I can put under the Fidelius Charm."
Sirius' eye twitched in annoyance as he did not miss the subtle
suggestion behind those words. How he wished he could smack that
sanctimonious bastard in the face, but he couldn't! Dumbledore was
the Chief Warlock, a post nearly as powerful as his own. Even if he
hated Dumbledore and would like nothing more than to throw his
wrinkled old arse in Azkaban, he was more useful working for their
side. The old man also wanted Voldemort dead. If only they could
get their hands on that blasted locket! But Sirius was clear about one
thing – this would only be a temporary alliance. After Voldemort and
his Death Eaters were gone and done for, he would ensure that
somehow, Dumbledore lost his positions one by one. He was not the
Minister of Magic for nothing.
He may hate Dumbledore, but right now, Voldemort was a bigger
threat.
Everyone in the Great Hall was reading the Magical Daily in utter
silence. The headlines sent shivers down their spine.
LORD VOLDEMORT RETURNS!
Press conference held by Minister of Magic Sirius Black confirms
news!
BOY-WHO-LIVED KIDNAPPED AFTER HE WON THE TRIWIZARD
TOURNAMENT
Triwizard Cup turned into a Portkey to kidnap Harry Potter
HARRY POTTER NEARLY TORTURED TO DEATH!
Reports say that he is recovering at Hogwarts – news of his
extensive injuries unconfirmed, but experts speculate multiple
exposures to the Cruciatus Curse; cuts on his body suggest he was
tortured with a knife and whipped several times!
" Dangerous times ahead – be cautious," warns Lady Amelia Black,
Head of the D.M.L.E.
Barty Crouch Senior impersonated by his supposed dead son for a
year!
Why did no one detect it?
PANIC GRIPS THE MASSES!
SECURITY AT HOGWARTS TO INCREASE OVER THE SUMMER
Key members of the Ministry and Wizengamot are to be
apprehended for being Death Eaters
How much did we screw up at the end of the last war?
LORDS MALFOY, NOTT, AVERY WANTED FOR QUESTIONING
New evidence points to the fact that they may have been willing
Death Eaters all along
LUCIUS MALFOY BEHIND THE OPENING OF THE CHAMBER OF
SECRETS AT HOGWARTS TWO YEARS AGO
Wanted for questioning regarding the matter
Theodore Nott placed his newspaper down and buried his face in his
hands. He had hoped for years that this would never happen. Now
there was no escaping his fate. He looked at Blaise Zabini who was
giving him a speculative yet knowing look.
"What are you going to do?" asked Blaise.
"Is running away an option?" asked Theo wryly. "Because if I don't, I
have only two options in front of me – join him or be killed. Hopefully,
Father would tell the Dark Lord that I am not Death Eater material
but I doubt it. Like Dylan and Draco, both my father and grandfather
were Death Eaters and the Dark Lord would take my refusal as a
personal insult."
Blaise hummed in agreement. "You're still too young for him to
recruit," he observed. "You're only fifteen, so you still have time. I
doubt the Dark Lord would mark anyone who is still at school.
Hopefully, by then, he would be defeated."
Theo looked at his best friend incredulously. "Defeated? Did you look
at the state Harry was in when he arrived?"
"We don't know what happened there," said Blaise calmly. "You know
how talented Harry is, I'm sure he would have put up more of a fight
had he not been caught off guard. Either way, there is nothing wrong
in hoping for it. You may not be looking forward to serving the Dark
Lord, but dear Draco is."
Harry grunted in pain and exhaustion as he placed his head on
Daphne's lap, closing his eyes, enjoying the sensation of her fingers
stroking his hair. They were in a compartment in the Hogwarts
Express, returning to London. Harry was glad that he had finished
his N.E.W.T.s because he would have been too distracted to write
his exams now. He tried to sleep, but his body still ached. Opposite
to him, Dylan and Astoria were sitting close to each other, speaking
in soft tones. Harry's mind drifted back to the conversation he had
with Theo this morning. He knew the Slytherin's position would be
difficult, but he hoped that he could end the war before his friend
would be forced to take the mark. Just as he closed his eyes, the
compartment door was rudely yanked open.
"You'll pay for this, Potter," said Draco in a low voice. "You and your
bloody godfather can't send Aurors after my father to have him
arrested! The Dark Lord is back and he will teach filthy half-bloods
like you a lesson. With him in charge, the balance in the world shall
soon be restored."
Harry got up slowly and looked at Draco with calm, cold eyes. "Take
a seat, cousin," he said quietly.
"Why?" Draco sneered. "Want to negotiate terms for your
surrender?"
"Draco, don't act like a child and take a seat, your goons included. I
have faced and duelled Voldemort, so you don't scare me."
Draco narrowed his eyes in anger but sat down; Crabbe and Goyle
looking clueless but curious. Harry waved his hand and the door
sealed shut with a silencing charm in place.
"Yes, the Dark Lord is back," said Harry, crossing his legs gracefully
and looked at the three of them with critical eyes. "And we are at a
crossroad. Tell me, Draco, why do you hate me? For the first two
years, we ignored each other. I was fine with that because quite
frankly, I didn't care about you. But then you started annoying Dylan
and I don't take kindly to anyone insulting my brother –"
"He's not your brother," said Draco imperiously.
The temperature in the compartment dropped as Harry's emerald
orbs darkened. Dylan's grey eyes were hard as he coolly observed
the meeting.
"After I threatened you to back off, you wisely did, and yes, it was
me," Harry continued, ignoring the gaping face of Draco. "But you
started it again after my name came out of the Goblet of Fire. I didn't
have a problem with those stupid badges because they were so
childish that it wasn't even worth my time. My brother, however, felt
differently and so he acted. The end result was your own Head of
House punishing you."
Draco gritted his teeth. This conversation was not going the way he
wanted.
"You have been raised in a pampered environment, Draco. You have
no idea of the real world out there. You have never experienced
hardship, pain and hunger like how Dylan and I have. You are
excited at the prospect of becoming a Death Eater, but let me tell
you right now, Draco, it's not going to be easy. You expect that being
a Death Eater would be the greatest achievement of your life, but the
fact of the matter is that it would destroy you and your family. Take
heed of my advice and stay out of this war and the Ancient and
Noble House of Malfoy will live to see another day. Don't make a
mistake that could get you and your mother killed because this war is
going to be brutal."
"Are you saying that I can't handle it?" spat Draco, shaking in anger.
"I am capable, Potter, to handle anything! I'm one of the top students
in my year! I am not a stupid weakling that got beaten up by a bunch
of worthless Muggles like you and your brother . I don't need your
advice because I am going to be on the winning side! And the day
will come when you realise how great I am!"
"He does not give rewards, cousin," Harry said finally as Draco got
up. "He hands out more punishments than rewards. All I am asking
is that you think about it. I'm not asking you to join my side, just to
distance yourself from me, Dumbledore and Voldemort. If you do,
you have a chance to survive this war. If not ..."
Draco glared at Harry as he walked out, slamming the compartment
door close as he went. Crabbe and Goyle were giving Harry funny
looks as they passed.
"Trying to prevent him from taking the mark?" asked Daphne quietly.
"I tried, but it obviously didn't work. He's not a killer; trust me, I know
what I'm talking about. Not everyone can take a life and Draco
certainly can't. Yes, he's a smart boy, but Voldemort honestly doesn't
care about that. If he becomes a Death Eater, he is doomed to fail.
All I can hope is that he does not involve himself in the war
personally. I hope he realises the truth before it is too late."
"Draco is not Death Eater material; he's just a pampered little boy
who is too confused by the world around him, doing his best to
please his parents. If something drastic happens in his life, he'll
break into pieces. I've observed that over the past four years and so
has Sirius. He sees the world in black and white, which,
unfortunately, most others do as well. You can't fault him when
Dumbledore and Voldemort are guilty of the same. I was guilty of the
same too but I came to realise over the past few years that
everything in life is in shades of grey. Draco's life isn't going to be
easy now that Voldemort is back. Theo is mature enough to
understand what's going on, but Draco hasn't realised it yet."
"And I was actually attracted to him? I must have hit my head on
something," muttered Astoria to herself, but Dylan heard it. A small
smile formed its way to his lips as he turned towards the window.