Prophecy Child

‘My Lord, may I speak with you?’

‘I have a little time, Barty. Come in.’ Tom beckoned Barty into his study, gesturing for him to sit. ‘What is it you wish to speak about?’

‘My Lord, we have had the Potter boy for almost a week. Have you heard any news from the Light side?’

Tom shook his head slowly, considering.

‘No news, no rumblings, no rumours?’

Tom shook his head again.

‘Does that not strike you as odd, my Lord? We certainly have enough spies in enough places that there should be information coming in from somewhere?’

‘You think my spies are betraying me?’ Tom asked sharply.

‘No, my Lord. There are far too many, and most far too well hidden for that. No – I don’t think the Light side knows the boy is gone.’

Tom sat back in his chair, looking at Barty curiously. ‘Go on.’

‘Montgomery said he found the boy in a neighbourhood in Surrey, with ineffective wards guarding him. He took the boy easily, with no apparent alarms anywhere. We have heard nothing at all, not even a hint that things are being kept under tight wraps – something as big as the Prophecy child being kidnapped surely should have caused somebody, somewhere to spill something! But there has been nothing, my Lord. Not a hint of a whisper.’

Tom glanced away, looking out a window for a long while. Eventually, he called an elf, directing it to fetch Lucius and Severus.

He continued to stare out the window when they arrived, seating themselves quietly and waiting. Both men glanced at Barty as they entered, but he gave nothing away.

‘Severus, I have a task for you. At the next Order meeting, find out what you can about Harry Potter. Be subtle – of course, I know you will be. Let me know what you find out.’

If Severus found the order odd, he gave no indication. He nodded briskly. ‘Yes, my Lord. Is there anything in particular I should be searching for?’

Tom turned his gaze slowly back from the window. ‘Barty says there has been no news about the boy’s disappearance.’

Severus and Lucius both nodded slowly, but still a little lost.

‘I don’t think anyone knows he’s gone.’ Barty supplied, making both men’s eyebrows jump up.

Lucius cleared his throat. ‘My Lord, I had been meaning to come and speak with you about the boy, but I have not yet had the chance. I have noticed some very concerning things about the boy.’

‘We have all seen the bruises, Lucius.’

‘No – well yes, my Lord. But other things. He was terrified of having a bath, afraid I was going to force his head underwater. Did you know house elves cannot physically act if their master is too fearful or in pain? Miggy couldn’t even get close enough to touch the boy, let alone bathe him, so I had to do it. He didn’t know how to wash himself. I brushed his teeth for him yesterday because he’d never been shown. When I dressed him in the clothes you organised for him, he panicked and tried to take them off, like he shouldn’t have been wearing such nice things. Yesterday, he had an accident – we all saw it. But then instead of crying or running away, like I would have expected from my own son in such a situation, he took off his own clothes and tried to clean it. I told you already, my Lord – that boy has been abused most horrendously.’

Tom’s expression darkened. ‘You did. I admit I was more focused on the Prophecy at the time, the other aspects of what you were saying were less important to me at the time. Miggy! Fetch Carrick Montgomery and bring him here.’

The other men glanced around in confusion but held their tongues. When Carrick arrived a moment later, Tom gestured for him to take a seat.

‘Carrick, I wish to ask your advice. I know that this will be difficult for you, but the information you may be able to provide us will be helpful.’

Carrick nodded uncertainly.

‘I wish to speak with you about some aspects of your childhood, Carrick. I can make this conversation just between us, if you prefer.’

Carrick’s face paled, and he swallowed harshly, eyes dropping to his lap and ears burning. ‘May I ask why, my Lord?’ he said, voice tight and a little rough.

Tom paused, watching Carrick carefully. ‘We believe that nobody is aware that Harry Potter has been taken. Many concerning things have been noted about the boy. I was hoping you might be able to shed some light on the situation.’

‘So… so you don’t need to know about… I don’t have to tell you all… you just want my opinion?’ Carrick stumbled.

‘Yes, I think that should suffice. However, we may need further clarification in some aspects.’

Carrick swallowed again, then nodded determinedly. ‘Alright, my Lord. I’ll do my best to answer. What do you want to know?’

Tom looked to Lucius, who looked back in confusion. ‘Lucius, tell Carrick about Harry’s bath.’

Lucius still seemed a little lost, but he began to explain anyway, describing the boy’s fear, his gestures, the surprised look on his face when he climbed in the water, his panic when Lucius mentioned washing his hair. Then he described the boy’s strange reaction to the new clothing he was dressed in, and finding the boy hiding in the closet.

Carrick’s eyes were fixed on his lap throughout, and he didn’t look up when Lucius finished, staring down for a long minute. Finally, he took a deep, shuddering breath, and looked up, fixing his eyes on his Lord and ignoring the other men in the room.

‘He would have been expecting cold water. His surprise would have been because it was warm. He’s obviously had his head shoved underwater. Probably was scrubbed harshly, with either cheap soap or something that may have burned at his skin, lye or something. Wouldn’t have been allowed nice things, nice clothes. Would have been punished for helping himself to things too good for him. Hiding is obvious – can’t be hurt if you can’t be found.’

Carrick held his Lord’s eye, who returned his gaze steadily. The other men in the room held various expressions of horror or shock, but Carrick held his Lord’s gaze.

‘Well done, Carrick. If you would like to leave, that is fine. If you feel able, we have some more questions?’

Carrick’s expression flickered, but he nodded. ‘The bruising? I heard about that.’

‘I am interested to know about food.’ Severus interrupted quietly. ‘I think I understand, but perhaps you can confirm my suspicions.’

‘What are your suspicions?’ Carrick asked flatly, eyes still fixed on his Lord.

Severus gave him an odd look, finding the eye contact between the two to be rather… strange. He ignored it and continued. ‘The boy refused to touch his plate at first. He tried to communicate something at first, perhaps washing dishes, but only after I explicitly explained that he was allowed to eat did he touch any food. And then, he ate like a starving animal. He choked one morning, trying to swallow too much food at once.’

Severus paused, but Carrick didn’t speak. After a minute, Severus continued. ‘My suspicion is that the boy was not allowed regular food, or that he had to work for his food. He is far too thin to eat normally, and his habits far too telling.’

Carrick nodded, still holding his Lord’s eye. ‘You’ll have to explain again next meal that he’s still allowed to eat. Choking isn’t a waste of food and he’s allowed more.’

Lucius let out a strange, strangled sound at that.

‘What of his accident in the meeting?’

‘Nobody took him to the bathroom, I’m guessing? Nobody showed him where it was? Nobody explained that he is allowed to take himself there and use it any time he needs to?’ Carrick’s voice was strangely flat, monotone.

Lucius fought the urge to drop his head into his hands. ‘No. I assumed that he would make his needs known. I know he doesn’t speak, but he will use gestures to try to get his meaning across sometimes.’

‘You were in a meeting. Children do not interrupt adults.’ Carrick said in that same flat monotone.

‘What about the eye contact thing? He won’t look anyone in the eye.’

Carrick shuddered hard, finally breaking eye contact with his Lord. He began a fine tremble that worsened until he was shaking hard, shaking his head side to side like a dog, eyes on his lap and fists clenched.

‘Carrick. Carrick! Look at me, Carrick, come now!’ said the Dark Lord urgently.

Carrick was clearly not listening, starting up an odd whimpering noise, then he burst out, ‘Don’t look me in the eye, filthy child! Dirty stain!’ he snarled, and then Tom was in front of him, hands over his tight fists, head ducked to catch his eye, and suddenly Carrick could breathe again, could think again. He wasn’t there anymore. He was here, with his Lord, who had saved him. Who had taken him out of there and promised he’d never go back. He squeezed his Lord’s hands, probably too tightly, but he clung like his life depended on it.

‘It’s alright, Carrick. You are here, with me. You are safe. I am sorry to have done this to you. I should have found another way to go about this. It’s alright, Carrick, take your time.’

Carrick knew he shouldn’t be taking such liberties, but he let his head slowly drop to the shoulder of his Lord, kneeling in front of him. He let out a deep shuddering breath, muscles unclenching as his Lord kept him steady. After a long moment, he leaned back, ears burning and eyes suspiciously bright.

‘Sorry, my Lord.’ He mumbled.

‘Quite alright, Carrick. I shouldn’t have put you in such a situation. This is my fault.’

Carrick shook his head. ‘No, my Lord. The legilimency helped,’ at this, the other men seemed to straighten with understanding – and concern. ‘It helped, but I lost focus and let myself slip into a memory. I’ll do better next time.’

‘You did very well, Carrick. I hope there won’t have to be a next time. I was perhaps too hasty in asking you to speak like this. We should have taken more time to assess your occlumency before attempting this.’ Tom apologised quietly.

Lucius, Severus and Barty exchanged glances, not having seen such a side to their Lord before. They held their tongues tightly, however. It was not their place to pry into their Lord’s personal life.

A few more minutes passed, in which Carrick seemed to gather himself admirably, before he made to stand. Tom stood too and laid a hand on Carrick’s shoulder. ‘Get some rest. I shall come and check on you later.’

Carrick nodded quietly, walking out the door without glancing once at the other men.

Tom sighed, sitting heavily in his chair. He ran a hand over his face, then muttered, ‘I shouldn’t have pushed so soon.’

‘Pardon me, my Lord…’ began Lucius, before trailing off, unsure what to say next.

Tom looked up, almost surprised to see the three men sitting across from him. After a moment, his expression turned wry. ‘Ah. I can see you are too polite to ask, but are all burning with curiosity, am I correct? Very well, let me clarify this much at least. I took Carrick from his… family, when he was fifteen. They discovered when he was small that he had a Dark core and tried to… remove the darkness. He was a shell of a boy when I took him in. The affection I feel for him is entirely familial. Like a much younger brother, or perhaps a godson. He is young, and not ready for the higher ranks of my Death Eaters, but he has no less value to me for that fact.’

The three men were silent, digesting this information, before Barty spoke up.

‘He must be around eighteen, my Lord? You took him in when he was fifteen, you said. So then…’

‘Yes. After that Halloween night, when we were scattered and feared we had been defeated, and I was in hiding. I stumbled across his family home and felt a pull to go closer. I believe now it was Lady Magic guiding me. I saw a boy, a Dark boy, one of my own, being… mistreated. I took him in the night and promised him he would never have to return to that place. I helped him to gain his emancipation and took him somewhere safe to heal. Even after I began gathering my followers again, I was protecting him. He reminded me of the reason we are fighting. I had become caught up and obsessed with defeating Dumbledore, and lost sight of the Dark wixen, the Dark children I am bound to guide and protect as Dark Lord.’

Silence reigned again for a long minute, before Severus spoke.

‘I am glad you were able to help him, my Lord. Perhaps we ought to return to the subject of the Potter boy?’

‘Indeed, Carrick’s insights were… difficult to digest, my Lord. The boy has been through much suffering. Have you decided whether to follow through with the idea of making the boy into an ally, and turning Dumbledore into his enemy?’

Tom nodded. ‘I believe it ought to be a viable plan. Firstly, however, I want to know if anyone knows the boy is missing. We can make other plans from there.’