Chapter 62
The newspapers were filled for weeks with speculation and rumours and drama. Dozens of witnesses came forward to share their perspectives on what had happened at the Bank that day.
Some of it was favourable towards the Dark Lord, some of it more fear-mongering and exaggerated bias. Some was clinical and detached, trying to stick to pure fact. Surprisingly, not one person, regardless of their political leanings, had any doubt as to the love between the Dark Lord and his blood-adopted son. Even the most extreme Light-leaning wixen could not deny the look of relief in the picture that had been paired with many articles – of the Dark Lord kneeling before the boy, both with their arms wrapped tight around each other as they reunited. Hard to argue with a display like that.
As to whether the Dark Lord was evil, the child was evil, Dumbledore was evil, the goblins were evil… well, on and on that nonsense dragged, for well over a month after Dumbledore died. Tom suspected it wouldn’t end any time soon. Hopefully, the next big event might distract people for a while though.
Ostara.
New beginnings.
Announcements had been made all over Britain, inviting not only Dark wixen, but Grey and Light too. The Dark Lord was making his official entrance to the wixen world, formally taking up his mantle. He had been denied the opportunity when he first became Dark Lord, due to the rampant hatred and fear and violence towards anyone or anything Dark. He had hidden his title as long as he could, and then hidden himself when he couldn’t.
His manor was well hidden, secretive and warded to the heavens and back.
And now he was preparing to release the wards, open his home to his people as a true Dark Lord ought – for what use was a Lord who the people could not see? Could not appeal to?
The sound of small footsteps running toward him had Tom turning and crouching down, ready to scoop his son into his arms. ‘Good morning, Harry!’
Harry wiggled happily, hugging Tom before pulling back to sign, ‘Breakfast time! Big day, Marius says we must eat and be strong today!’
Tom nodded seriously. ‘Marius is the doctor, he knows best. We’d better go eat!’
‘Before Barty steals all the bacon!’
Tom laughed as he carried his son downstairs, hurrying with over-exaggerated worry. He could practice his speech later. Right now, he and his son had to go liberate some bacon from Barty’s plate.