The Great Hall was completely silent. Everybody was hoping for the best, that the body that had fallen to the floor -apparently lifeless- wasn’t going to raise his ugly head anymore.
Well, everyone except for Harry.
The boy was watching the lifeless body of his enemy with dread in his eyes and a painful feeling in his chest. It had not been a fair battle, Voldemort was too powerful and too strong compared to Harry, so the ending had been all but expected.
Tom Riddle had fallen way too easily -and killed by a mere expelliarmus, nonetheless.
He had killed… Harry had killed.
Of course, it was a ‘kill or be killed’ kind of situation and he knew he would have to face and defeat Voldemort sometime, but for the Dark Lord to lose like this… to fall to the ground like a broken doll…
“I am going to move him to another room.” he hollowly said as he casted a levitation charm on Voldemort’s body.
He knew other people would not understand. He knew some of them were bouncing on their feet to get the chance to maul the deceased Dark Lord, but Harry could not stand and watch it happen.
Voldemort had fought for the wrong reasons and had died, but even in death he deserved some respect.
Harry walked towards the dungeons, the part of the castle that seemed to be less damaged, and soon found an empty classroom. He slowly laid Voldemort on a dusty desk and then decided to rearrange his clothes by hand to give him a more composed look.
The dark Lord appeared so small and so fragile in death that Harry wondered how this man alone had been able to create an army and be the leader of two magical wars. He crossed Voldemort‘s hands over his chest, then he turned to leave, but stopped with his hand on the door handle. Nobody would come to mourn him. Nobody would even remember who this man, Tom Riddle, had once been. How much potential had been wasted to the dark arts. Harry felt pity for the shell of the man who was laying in front of him, a feeling that should have disgusted him, but that made him move to the desk Voldemort was resting on, instead.
“You did not deserve this.” He whispered, conjuring a chair and sitting on it. “You should have been given a second chance.”
Harry didn’t know how much time he had been sitting there, eyes fixed on his enemy and mind blank.
They had won! Voldemort’s reign of terror was no more and people were now free to go out, to party, to speak freely!
They had won, but Harry had never felt this empty before. It probably was because of the Horcrux inside him or, well, that had been inside him. He had gotten used to sharing his body with more than a soul and now that he was alone for the first time in sixteen years he felt hollow. It made sense.
And it sucked.
Harry groaned, letting his head fall into his hands. What now? He had just left the Great Hall after an epic battle just to run away and mourn his dead enemy. Could he go back so easily to the people he knew were waiting for him? Could he stand their worried looks, their glares while they prepared their deceased loved ones to be buried?
He couldn’t.
He didn’t want to face their praises and their accusations, he didn’t want to see who else had lost their life that night.
Yes. He would stay in this room for a little longer and enjoy the peace and the silence before facing the storm outside. By then, he hoped he would have figured out a plan of action.
A sudden knock on the door made him startle.
He was quite sure nobody had followed him, so why was someone knocking on a usually unused classroom door? He narrowed his eyes and steeled the grip on his wand.
“Enter”.
The door slowly opened to reveal the last person Harry had been expecting. Although, as a second thought, it made sense for a Malfoy to be in the dungeons. To purposely seek Harry out, though…
“Mr. Malfoy. I had the pleasure to meet your wife a few hours ago. In the forest.” He spat bitterly. He didn’t want to deal with any more malfoys for the day. He also didn’t like the fact that he was now alone with Voldemort’s second in command.
To his surprise Lucius raised his empty hands.
“Mr. Potter, I mean no harm.”
His eyes drifted from Harry to the inanimate body of the Dark Lord behind him. Harry tensed even more, but Mr. Malfoy didn’t pay it any mind.
“Your people are upstairs mourning their dead ones and I find it strange to find you, of all people, barricaded in a classroom in the dungeons, alone, with My Lord…”
"He's dead” Harry interrupted, not liking at all what Malfoy Sr. was saying.
Lucius nodded his head and his gaze fell once again on Harry. Something was off in his usually stoic face, but Harry couldn't figure out what it was.
“We lost people, too. Family members.” Malfoy suddenly said after a while, making Harry startle. He gripped his wand even harder, wishing for Malfoy to finally leave him alone. But the blond wasn't finished yet. “We lost people we cared about. Friends. And our leader, too.”
Realization suddenly hit Harry.
“You want him back!” Harry almost snarled.
“He is no use to you.”
“He is dead."
“And we want to mourn and bury him. As your friends are doing upstairs..."
Lucius' words were spoken in a calm and measured voice, but Harry was able to capt some kind of emotion behind them. Sorrow? Regret? Relief? He couldn't tell.
“…As you are doing here.” Lucius finished and Harry felt like he had been slapped in the face.
"I am NOT mourning HIM” he hissed between clenched teeth, fully aware that he had been doing exactly what Lucius was accusing him of.
The man gave him an incredulous look before stepping forward, his hands still raised as to show Harry he meant no harm. As if Harry would fall for it.
“I can wait for you to finish, but then I require the Dark Lord's body.”
Require?
Something wasn't right. Instinct had kept Harry alive for 17 years, and that same instinct was now telling him not to trust any word coming out of Malfoy's mouth.
“I am not going to let you take him away. Dead or not, I do not trust you."
Lucius façade slipped a little and an annoyed expression flashed on his face.
“Potter.” he spat, clearly barely containing himself "You will give me the Dark Lord. Now!!”
Harry should have felt pleased to be able to rile up lord Malfoy this much, but that hollowness inside him hadn't gone away and he felt detached from everything. And that, more than anything else, scared him.
Was he going to be like that for the rest of his life? He hoped not.
Harry dared a glance to the lifeless body behind him before deflating and letting his body tiredly fall on the chair he had been sitting in for the last couple of hours.
He was suddenly so tired ...
"Look, Mr. Malfoy,” he began, rubbing his eyes and allowing a small sigh to escape his lips. "I do not trust you. I can't allow you to have him.”
To take him away from me, his mind scarefully supplied, but he conveniently kept his mouth shut. He didn't even know where that thought had come from, for Merlin's sake!
Mr. Malfoy, though, seemed to understand what Harry had not said out loud and now looked like the cat who got the cream. Not a flattering image for the lord of the Malfoy family.
“I see.” he whispered. He slowly got closer to Harry and put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing a little. Harry wanted to recoil from the touch, but he couldn't muster the will to, nor the energy, for that matter.
Lucius continued as if nothing had happened, as if it was everyday that he sought out contact with Harry.
"I know it's hard for you, too, to let it all go” Another squeeze to Harry's shoulder had him frowning. What was Lucius getting at? “But you don't have to. You could come with us.... you could help us…”
Harry jerked back. He didn't like how their talk was evolving.
“Help you doing what, exactly?" he asked. Then, as an afterthought he added. “And who exactly is us?”
Lord Malfoy smirked.
“Think about it, Harry. You could be great. You could be the leader of a new world. You, at the side of our Lord, ruling over the wizardry world”.
Lucius closed the distance between them to whisper the last words directly into Harry's ears, making him shiver.
“You wouldn't feel hollow anymore. Call me when you are ready.”
Then he swiftly left the room leaving a gobsmacked Harry behind.
__________________________________
Harry didn't want to admit it, but Lucius' words had sunk in.
He had stayed in the room with Voldemort for half a day before deciding he had to do something about it . He had tried to reach for the door a couple of times, but the idea of parting from The Dark Lord was physically very painful and -what the hell?!
Voldemort must have done something to him before dying.
The one time he made it farther from the body was when he had managed to open the door and stand on the threshold, ragged breath coming out of his mouth and a painful ache in his chest. After that he had sat once again next to Voldemort and thought about a way out.
He hadn't come up with anything.
“Dobby!” he called out eventually. He himself could not believe what he was about to do, but did he have other choices?
The house elf appeared in front of him in the blink of an eye.
“What can Dobby do for Master Harry, Sir?’
Dobby appeared to be exhausted. He was probably helping rebuild the castle as well as caring for the injured and those who still were at Hogwarts. Harry almost felt pity for him. Almost. And that was what made him clench his fists and say his next words out loud.
“Dobby, I need you to go to lord Malfoy and tell
him I require his presence. He can find me where he knows.”
Dobby blinked his big eyes a few times, then bowed to the floor and disappeared with a soft pop.
He probably was thinking the same thing as Harry was: what was happening to him?! He knew he most definitely would not like it, but he needed to know what Malfoy had been alluding to the day before.
And he also needed to find a way to leave the room -preferably alone- and bury Voldemort, and…
“Mr. Potter.”
The deep voice of Lucius Malfoy saved Harry from the mayhem his thoughts had turned into. Harry gestured him to a chair.
“I must say I wasn't expecting your call so soon” the man said, smugness emanating from him in waves. Harry couldn't care.
"I think I need your help” he finally said through gritted teeth. He might not be completely in tune with his emotions since the battle, but he still felt something at having to lower himself and ask for help from his enemy.
Mr. Malfoy gestured for him to go on. His face was stoic, but his eyes were glinting madly, as if he had been expecting this moment to come. For how humiliating it was, Hazzy decided to speak the truth and see if the Malfoy patriarch could help him. If not ... well, he had already killed someone, hadn't he?
Wait. Where did this thought come from?
“It seems I cannot leave the room. It seems I physically cannot leave him behind”.
He waited for a laugh or mocking words, but nothing of the sort came.
Instead, Lord Malfoy put his elbows on his knees and bent a little towards Harry with a serious expression.
“How long have you been feeling like this?"
“Since the battle. And it got worse. I can't now take more than three steps from him before it hurts here”.
He patted his chest, over his heart, which was where he hurt the most when he had tried to leave the room. His scar had hurt, too, but it was a pain he was used to.
Lucius folded his arms and assumed a pensive expression. His eyes were scanning the boy in front of him and Harry felt as if he was being studied under a microscope.
"I see. I have an idea about what it could be.
You won't like it, of course, but if you interrupt me even once I will leave the room and let you face your fate. Am I clear?"
“Clear” answered Harry, his nails biting into his palms with the force he was clenching his fists. How dare he talk to him like that! But again, Harry had no choice but to stay put and listen to his words. For now.
“I have a theory, you know. About what happened the night the Dark Lord resurrected. I have been able to put the pieces together only after my Lord’s departure, after your oh, so sentimental speech during the battle... and after finding you mourning over my master's dead body”.
Lucius waved his hand and hot steaming tea appeared in front of them. Neither of them moved to grab the cups, though.
Harry was trembling with rage already, but he bit his tongue and willed Mr. Malfoy to continue his speech and be over with it soon.
Strangely enough, the blond man in front of him set his jaw and immediately resumed speaking.
“That night, in the cemetery. The Dark Lord used your blood to tether him to life. What he didn't know, however, was that there was a part of him in you, so he tethered himself to you two times. To his horcrux and to Harry Potter. See what I am saying?"
Harry took a sharp breath and drew his eyes up to meet Lucius' sharp gaze.
"You can't mean…"
“Oh, but I do, Potter. He killed you, killed the horcrux in you, thus cutting down one of his tethers. The one linked to Harry, though, survived. You killed him, but-”
“He’s not dead”. Harry’s words sounded like he had just discovered he had been sentenced to death.
“I am keeping him alive."
Lucius only nodded and Hazzy felt like laughing once again. Why was Fate so keen on making his life hell? And why wasn't he sad, angry and disgusted with what Lucius had just told him?
It probably was because of Voldemort and their new link. It always was because of Voldemort.
“So I really have to die, after all” he whispered.
“Or” Lucius cut into his musings “you could sever the link. Resurrect the Dark lord and you'll finally be free of him"
As if.
Resurrecting Voldemort would just assure Harry's (painful) death, of that he was sure.
“Or” Lucius continued and Harry was getting really annoyed at the man's antics. “you could resurrect him and stay by his side. He is merciful to those who help him, you know”.
And Lucius would know something about it, wouldn't he?
Despite that, Harry was sure Voldemort would not be merciful with him. He had killed him 16 years before, and since then he had opposed him at any occasion. He had ruined his plans, got his followers into Azkaban, destroyed his horcruxes, killed him again. Yeah, he could see how well their next conversation would go.
Two words and a bright green ending.
He could not ignore the fact that he was now linked to that monster, though.
"You are going to die if you don't do anything, Mr. Potter. That burning feeling is going to get worse and worse... and in the end the hollowness inside your chest is going to consume you”.
Harry gulped. He knew Lucius was right. He knew he had not much time left. He could already feel the burning in his chest, a feeling that had not been there half an hour before.
He slightly bent towards the table the Dark Lord was laying on and could immediately feel the difference. He really was bonded to Voldemort.
And he really did not want to die. Not now that he had hoped he could live a full life.
He was screwed.
"What will happen if I decide to help you resurrect him?” he asked, defeated.
If Malfoys were the type of person who wore their hearts on their sleeves, he would probably have seen the man in front of him gleefully clap his hands. But Mr. Malfoy was as stoic as ever, and it was with a stoic face that he responded the next second.
"You can decide to disappear or you can stay and bravely face your destiny. But as for what the Dark Lord will do, I am afraid nobody knows for sure”.
“Then why are you doing this? Why would you help me? What if we resurrect a madman?"
“I get the power. Power I have lost in the last few years thanks to you”.
Lucius' icy glare met Harry's green eyes, and the boy saw, for the first time, the danger the man in front of him was. He was magically powerful, had the money and all the political support he could want. Voldemort was the Dark Lord, but Lucius was only a small step behind; The Evil disguised as a politician keeping open all the doors for any evenience.
“I don’t know if I can do it. Not again”.
Harry sagged in his chair. He knew he had no choice, and even if he tried he couldn't come up with anything useful to help his situation.
“It doesn't matter. You will do it. Eventually”.
Lucius’ parting words felt like they were printed with fire on his soul.
__________________________________
It started as a slow burn.
He had gradually got closer to Voldemort and was now sitting beside him, hand resting over the Dark Lord's.
At the beginning he had paid the burn no attention, but he could not ignore the fact that it had steadily grown stronger and painful in the span of a few minutes. He was now sweating profusely and that hollowness, that ache, had grown tenfold.
How long would he last? He had thought he would resist the pain and eventually survive the 'course’, but he knew the possibilities of that happening were getting slimmer by the minute. Especially because he wasn't actually doing anything to stop it.
But he couldn't leave the room and go to the Library, now, could he? Was there still a library to go to, anyway? The only thing he knew was that he wasn't ready to die. He hadn't been ready when he had faced Voldemort in the forest, but he knew he had to. Now, though... Now he only wanted to survive and go on with his life. Now he wanted to be a little selfish.
As on clue, the door to the classroom opened.
“I see you're not dead, yet, Mr. Potter. Remarkable”. Lucius’ drawl took Harry out of his musings -well, mental breakdown, really.
“Sorry for letting you down, Lord Malfoy” he joked, but his face was scrunched up in a grimace. Speaking felt like someone was pouring scalding hot water down his throat. He gulped, willing that sensation away, but the relief he was expecting did not come.
Lucius seemed to know.
“It won't take much longer, don't worry”.
“What do you want?” Hazzy bursted out. He knew Malfoy hadn't come to check on his wellbeing and he wanted the meeting to be over as soon as possible.
“To offer you a second chance” Lucius answered without losing a beat. “A second and, judging by the state you're in, last chance”.
Harry stifled a laugh, but his chest hurt anyway and he ended up coughing and gasping for air.
Last chance indeed.
Was lord Malfoy so desperate to have his Lord back that was willing to offer Harry an opportunity to live? And was he so desperate to live to be actually thinking of accepting it?
No.
But again, the first thought he had when he had entered the room with Voldemort the previous day came to mind.
‘You should have been given a second chance’.
Harry could grant him that. And, if he played his cards very well, he could be there to check on Voldemort and try to avoid another descent into darkness.
He fixed his eyes on Lucius.
The man's expression didn't betray anything, but Harry could still feel anticipation in the air.
“All right. Save us."
__________________________________
Harry blinked his eyes open. When had he closed them? His whole body hurt -as alway
head being the worst- and every breath sent painful stings through his chest. He was still wearing his glasses, but it took some time to focus his blurry vision and make out the carved wooden ceiling of the room.
Wait.
He was in a classroom just a few minutes ago! He tried to sit up, but strong arms held him down.
“Stay still, Mr. Potter. You're on a stasis charm and pain shouldn't get worse than this, but if you continue moving it won’t get better for sure”.
It had been a man speaking. Harry followed with the eyes the arms that were still holding him to find a middle aged man with short gray hair and a white coat staring at him.
A doctor, maybe? He immediately willed his body to still. If it was a doctor he should listen to him, right?
The man smiled.
“That's it. I am going to run a few diagnostic charms on you and I needed you awake for this. I am sorry, but I can't give you anything for the pain right now”.
“‘S fine' Harry replied, mind still a little bit blurred. Then it suddenly dawned on him. "Wait!" he almost screamed, making the man next to him startle. “Where is him? Voldemort?”
He couldn't believe he had forgotten about the battle, about the classroom, about Lucius…
“Please try to stay calm, Mr. Potter” the man absently said while waving his wand over him. “The Dark lord is in another room, placed under stasis charms himself” he explained matter of factly.
The Dark Lord?
Not a healer, then. A Death Eater.
Shit.
Pain suddenly surged through him, making him gasp at the suddenness and strength of it.
“Sorry, sorry” the Death Eater mumbled, finally pocketing his wand. The pain subdued a little. "It looks like everything is fine with you” he explained after a little time, a fatherly smile on his face.
Harry didn't buy it.
"Well, except for the bond with the Dark Lord and the pain, but that will be over soon. Everything is ready”.
Harry's blood freezed in his veins. Right. The bond. The ritual he had blindly agreed to.
He considered briefly to go back on his word and run away: dying because of a bond and dying at the hands of an angry Dark Lord wasn't that much different, was it?
The man next to him was speaking again, and Harry had to concentrate very hard to hear what he was saying over the buzzing of his ears.
“...until we are ready for the ritual. This stasis spell is what is keeping you alive at the moment, so the second we lift it we have to move fast. Have you been told what is required of you?"
Harry blinked a few times. So, without the spell he would already be dead, then. Somehow, he felt gratitude towards the person who had invented it. That said, he absolutely had no idea what the Death Eater was referring to.
"I wasn't told anything” he crooked out and he saw the man nod his head.
"I expect everything will be explained to you in the ritual room, then. I am Healer Brown, by the way”.
Brown. It wasn't a wizard name… was the man a halfblood like him? A muggleborn, perhaps? And why was he thinking about the man's blood status? It didn't matter to him!
"Halfblood." the Death Eater suddenly said and Harry did a double take. Had he…?
“You were talking out loud, Mr. Potter" Mr. Brown explained and Harry really really wanted to smack himself on the head. The expected feeling of shame did not come, though.
His emotions were still fucked up, then.
Now that he focused on it, he could still feel that hollowness in his chest.
Great.
“Sorry” he eventually said, because ashamed or not, he knew he had been mulling over some very personal information.
“Nothing to be sorry about, Mr. Potter!” The man exclaimed, a smile still stretching his lips. “I am proud of my roots and the Dark Lord... he values my healer's skills more than my blood. Thus my presence here.”
His smile turned even warmer and Harry thought, for the first time in his life, that maybe Death Eaters weren't necessarily bad, cruel people. Not all of them, at least.
"Tell me when you are ready to go” he continued, with a more serious voice. “I have to levitate you in order to not disrupt the stasis spell, but once in the ritual room you will have to walk on your own, since magic is not allowed there. Ready?”
Harry nodded. He wasn't ready, but he suspected he would never be. Healer Brown clapped his hands, a grin stretched on his face and eyes twinkling. He seemed to be barely restraining from jumping on his feet. Harry rolled his eyes at the man's childish enthusiasm and braced himself for the pain that he knew was about to come.
As expected, as the levitation charm hit him a burning sensation went through his body at being moved. He bit his lips and focused on his breathing. He could do it.
Healer Brown led him through a multitude of corridors and doors that to Harry's eyes all looked the same. After a while he started to think that the man was messing with him and purposelly walking in circles, but a sudden change in the air made him reconsider it. The corridor they had entered was dark and the air was so heavy with magic that it was difficult to breathe.
Mr. Brown finally stopped walking and turned to face a black door. It was so dark that Harry had almost missed it.
"We're here”
The healer's excited whisper didn't settle well with Harry. He still did not know what he had gotten himself into.
“Mr. Brown. Thank you for your assistance. I will take it from here” came the deep velvety voice of Lucius Malfoy.
The healer nodded and lowered Harry to the ground, who hissed in pain as soon as his feet touched the hard floor. Stasis spell or not, he hurt like hell.
Mr. Brown smiled at Harry before turning on his heels and disappearing down the dark corridor.
Harry gulped. He felt like he had been thrown among wolves and the feral stare Mr. Malfoy was subjecting him to didn't prelude anything good.
“What do I have to do?" Harry asked to lessen a little the tension he could feel in the air.
"Oh, Mr. Potter, you won't have to do much” Lucius answered with glee in his voice and Harry wondered if Malfoy had ever been this open to someone before. He probably had to be very -very- excited not to notice that his mask had completely slipped away.
Harry could use some of that emotion, right now.
He should have been more unsettled at what he was about to do, but the only thing he could feel was pain and longing and a little bit of uneasiness, maybe. But he knew the last one was a trained reaction at being close to any Death Eater, so he didn’t consider it.
When Harry came out of his musings, Lucius was still there smirking at him with a smile plastered on his face. Harry had the urge to wipe it away.
“As I was saying, Mr. Potter, your role in this ritual will be minimal. you will have to get naked and -“
"No way! " interjected Harry. He was not going to get naked in front of Merlin knows how many people!
"You are going to do it, like it or not, so stop being a child."
Harry immediately shut his mouth at the man’s chastising tone. He knew Malfoy was right, but ... naked?
"Who will be there?" he asked, hating how his voice came out small. He had defeated Voldemort yet he cowered before the mention of nudity. Pathetic.
“Only the three of us, Mr. Potter. And do not worry your brains too much, I assure you I have no interest in seeing you without clothes on. Now,” Lucius gestured towards the dark door. “Once inside, time is essential. You will get naked here" a sharp glare from Lord Malfoy prompted Harry to keep his mouth closed. Stupid Malfoy. If Harry didn't need him to survive...
“and once inside you will swiftly walk to the center of the room and lay down next to the Dark Lord. Are we clear?”
Harry Found the whole thing very gross -Voldemort had been dead for days now!- but he conveniently swallowed his protests and nodded his head in understanding. Once everything is over he will have Malfoy's head. That is, if Voldemort didn't have Harry's head first. But that was a bridge he would cross when he came to it.
“Once entered the room the stasis spell will dispel, so you better not lose any time if you do not want to faint and die before the ritual even starts.” Lucius finished.
Harry rolled his eyes. He got it. Enter the
room and lay down. And throttle Malfoy once the ritual is finished.
But first ...
"How many chances of surviving the ritual do I have?” he asked out of the blue. He needed to know.
Malfoy's smirk was small, but Harry clearly saw it before it was masked once again behind a neutral face. Something wasn’t right.
“I would say very high, Mr. Potter. The Wizardry world will see you for a long, long time yet." Somehow, those words sounded like a blatant lie, but Harry didn't have any choice, now, did he?
“Turn around while I take my clothes off” he said, and for once Mr. Malfoy complied.
As soon as he entered the ritual room pain like he had never felt before surged through his body. His legs gave out and he fell to the floor, gasping for air. He raised his eyes to silently ask for help when he saw him: Tom Riddle, the Dark Lord, floating in the middle of the room.
Malfoy's words came to mind and Harry started crawling to the center of the room. He couldn't feel his limbs anymore, but he knew that if he failed it would be the end. As soon as he entered a white circle drawn on the black ground, he could distantly hear Lucius had started to chant. The buzzing in his ears increased and he could not make out the words of the chant, but he really hoped the blond had them right.
He had faced death in the past, and even if he was not afraid of it he did absolutely not want to die like this. Or this soon.
He finally reached the middle of the room. Voldemort was only a few inches away, so he let his body fall down on the hard floor and focussed on breathing.
He didn't feel his body anymore. He couldn't hear anymore . He couldn't see anymore. The only thing he could feel was his heartbeat slowing down.
He closed his eyes and darkness completely engulfed him. At least it didn't hurt anymore.
__________________________________
Harry woke up in a soft bed. The sheets were velvety green and made of silk.
Only the best for him, of course.
He rubbed his eyes, but when he heard a noise at his right he sharply focussed them on the bowing figure of a man.
"Welcome back, my Lord” Lucius said, bowing a little more.
“Lucius. My most loyal follower. Rise”. Harry said, a terrific grin splitting his face in half.
Lucius immediately stood, then he waved his hand and the door of the room opened to reveal Mr. Brown.
“My Lord”. The man briefly bowed before approaching the boy in the bed. “How are you feeling?”
Harry examined his body. He felt great. The body was so responsive it felt as if he had always been inside it. Lucius had really done wonders with the ritual. He will be generously rewarded for his help.
"The body is perfect" he answered after a few minutes. "And the mind… The mind completely bent to my will".
He left the bed and gracefully walked towards the mirror that adorned the black wooden closet.
Yes. Harry's physical condition seemed to be very good.
"And now, my lord?"
Ah, Lucius. Always the eager one.
"Now" he whispered, eyes flashing red for a brief moment. He smirked. He couldn't have hoped for a better outcome.
"Now we take over the wizardry world”.