Chapter 5
How have I gotten into this situation once again? Oh right, my stupidity and the old goat's schemes.
At the moment, Harry was being held and scratched behind his ears by the one and only... Lord Voldemort, who was, annoyingly, dangerously handsome. Now Harry understood why his Death Eaters seemed so devoted to him if this was what he looked like before the war. Just look at him!
Discarding those thoughts away, Harry focused back on the present.
“As usual, my lord, Dumbledore does the same: murmuring and pacing around. Nothing new has happened,” said Rabastan, eyeing the small kitten in his lord's arms. Oddly enough, seeing a man who had committed mass murder and war crimes hold a cat as if it were the most precious thing in the world seemed utterly unbelievable. Either way, no one would dare tease their lord—snake or not, the punishment would still be painful.
The man shivered at the thought.
“He did seem smug about something, though,” said Bellatrix, resting her elbow on the table. They were in the meeting hall of Malfoy Manor, a grand area, dark yet comfortable. The surroundings were deceptive, lulling one into a false sense of security.
Voldemort hummed and looked up from the small cat. It was unusually quiet, but it purred occasionally when he scratched a certain spot behind its ear, so he kept his ministrations going and turned his attention to his Death Eaters, who looked mildly amused. “How so?” he asked.
Rabastan shifted in his seat and slid some pictures toward Voldemort. The cat perked its head forward from Voldemort's hands to look at the pictures, going unnoticed by the three in the room. The images showed Dumbledore standing still, even as the background moved. The second picture was of him staring out a window, face smug. In the background, his famous phoenix screeched at him. The last photo showed Dumbledore moving, twirling his wand as the phoenix flew around him, crying out. “He’s been at it since the start of the year. The bird’s behavior grows stranger each time we follow your orders, my lord. And, well, we also noticed—”
Rabastan was cut off by Bellatrix’s manic giggle as she leaned forward, causing the kitten to press closer to Voldemort’s chest and hiss lightly at the woman. Voldemort held back an amused smile and cradled the cat protectively, giving Bellatrix a warning look. She responded with a manic grin with a strange glint in her eyes when she looked at the cat.
“That itty-bitty baby Potter hasn’t been called to the old coot’s office! Quite strange, as we’ve been told by Sevvy and my dear Dragon that the old man loves to call him up for tea. His favorite student, that boy,” Bellatrix said, plopping herself back into her chair.
A frown etched itself onto Voldemort’s face. His well-trimmed eyebrows furrowed as his nose scrunched slightly in thought. The cat in his arms stared up at him, pupils slightly wide.
Merlin, I understand everything now, Harry thought, before he shook his head slightly. No take those thoughts away, he’s still Voldemort. The one who got his parents, Cedric, and many more killed.
Voldemort hummed, his aristocratic features showing annoyance. “And you believe the old man is planning what..?” he asked. Both Bellatrix and Rabastan turned serious, exchanging a glance before turning back to their lord.
“He must be manipulating the boy,” Rabastan murmured, shifting in his seat to cross one leg over the other. “It's just something we have gathered and speculated on. The old man seems to have control over everything, the life of the boy, dangers happening around the boy that the old man does not intervene in.. much like he did with you, my lord—” He stopped himself, signaling Bellatrix to continue.
Bellatrix leaned forward, her sneer sharpening as she spoke. “I questioned Dragon a few weeks ago about any changes he’d seen in the headmaster. He told me the old coot hasn’t spoken to the Potter boy at all this term, but he also mentioned something peculiar… something very similar to your situation, my lord.”
Voldemort stiffened. The small kitten in his hands meowed in confusion, its body tensing. Harry’s human mind reeled.
“What did the Malfoy boy say?” Voldemort asked impatiently.
Bellatrix hesitated, her manic energy briefly dimming. “Draco said he remembered an event— but it seemed as if the memory was foggy—that he and Potter discussed compulsions. Then Lucius mentioned giving Draco bracelets to counter them in the boys' third year. But Lucius himself couldn’t remember why he’d done so. It’s as if his mind had been tampered with.” She paused, glancing at the kitten before continuing. “It reminded me of your situation, my lord.”
Rabastan and Bellatrix both turned to Voldemort, who was silent. His face was calm, but his eyes betrayed a storm of emotions—disturbed, haunted, and angry.
“I see,” he said finally, his tone unbothered but his grip tightening on the kitten, making it wince.
~
After being left in a luxurious room filled with cat toys, scratching posts, and anything a cat could need, Harry curled up in a small, comfortable bed. If he was going to be stuck in Malfoy Manor under Voldemort’s nose, he might as well act like a real cat. It was better than risking exposure—and certain death at the hands of a particular witch or wizard.
Bellatrix’s gaze earlier had been unsettling. She seemed jealous, though Harry couldn’t explain, or understand, why. She’d been excited to show him to Voldemort initially, but the way she now glared at him when Voldemort’s attention lingered on him… unnerving was an understatement.
Huffing, Harry shook his head and glanced at the enchanted mouse toys darting around the room that some house elves had set up for him. He was alone now, with plenty of time to reflect. He closed his eyes and began sorting through the revelations from the meeting.
Okay, here’s what he’d gathered:
The Death Eaters had been watching Dumbledore since the start of the term. Somehow, the wards at Hogwarts hadn’t detected them.
Fawkes’s behavior had become increasingly erratic around Dumbledore. Harry could only imagine the phoenix’s frustration with being trapped alongside a manipulative old man.
Bellatrix and Rabastan had mentioned Voldemort’s “situation.” If his suspicions were correct, Dumbledore might have manipulated Voldemort in the past as well. From what he understood of the meeting, it seemed likely. And if it was true, how much damage has he done? What had he done? For how long? How far did the old goat’s schemes truly extend?
Finally, there was his own predicament. He was stuck in cat form indefinitely and trapped in Malfoy Manor. However, he had a plan. The Malfoy library likely contained the book he’d used for the ritual that landed him in this mess. He could also seek out Draco, who might still have those anti-compulsion bracelets. If Draco performed Legilimency or noticed Harry’s unusual behavior, he might piece things together. He just prayed to Fate to be on his side for Draco to be out of compulsions.
Plan made, Harry curled up in his bed. A nap wouldn’t hurt. He’d need all his energy for what was to come.