No more lies (To Victory)

○•○   CHAPTER 12   •○•

Despite his own reluctance to attend yet another Ball, Harry took it as a fish to water.

He felt excited at the prospect of causing chaos, migling amongst Death Eaters while they couldn’t do anything to him.

Not that he’d do something to cause Lady Malfoy grief at her own event - he wasn’t a mannerless idiot - but no one said anything about the mental torture he couldn’t inflict.

Perhaps that’s why Severus became anxious the moment Harry grinned and said that the Ball was going to be so much fun.

Even Draco stiffened once he saw the boy’s expression, despite laughing just moments earlier when Harry fell out of the fireplace.

“I’d greatly appreciate it if you didn’t murder anyone today.”

Harry grinned. “Only today?”

Draco closed his eyes in exasperation. “Come. We should go meet my pare-”

“There you are, Draco. Severus, wonderful to see you finally in attendance. It’s been a while.” Lord Malfoy made his entrance, along with his wife. His eyes immediately fixated on Harry, and the boy felt immensely pleased by the miniscule flinch. “Ah, M- heir Potter, what a pleasure it is to have you here.”

“Pleasure is all mine, Lord Malfoy.” Harry’s smile was all teeth. “And Lady Malfoy. You have a beautiful home.”

Narcissa beamed. “Thank you, dear. Glad to have you here tonight."

“Wouldn’t have missed it for anything.”

Draco barely got his snort in time. If there was one thing he was certain of, it was that Harry Potter didn’t attend this Ball out of a goodness of his heart, and had ulterior motives.

Of course he had.

And if he hadn’t known Harry as good as he did now, the boy’s answer would’ve sounded completely benign and pleasant, but unfortunately, Draco had seen first hand just what kind of person Potter was - what kind of monster lurked beneath the polite exterior.

With that knowledge, Harry’s answer sounded more like a threat than anything. It was menacing, a promise of something horrid to come.

It seemed that Lucius had the exact same thought as his complexion paled a little.

He prayed to whatever gods there were that Potter wouldn’t humiliate him in front of his guests, and hoped that inviting that little demon into his own home wasn't a fatal mistake.

“Well then, most guests have already arrived and are enjoying themselves in the Ballroom. I suggest you boys go do the same - and that includes you too, Severus.”

Severus glowered.

This was a nightmare. His own personal hell - having to attend two Balls in a row and participate.

“Don’t look so sour, Severus. You don’t know what this evening might bring.” Narcissa, the ever positive and gracious host winked, clearly hoping to elevate the douwer man’s mood, but it was ineffective. With Harry bloody Potter present, this night could only bring chaos and a need for the strongest headache relievers he had in store. “Come. Let’s talk. I have somuch to ask you.”

Begrudgingly, Severus allowed Narcissa to lead him away, unaware that his godson and Potter had already managed to slip away.

“Draco had sent us a letter yesterday, and of course, we’ve read the papers, but is it true that the Weasley girl attacked them?” Narcissa asked, secure in her knowledge that Severus always accounted things as they were, without the flare of dramatics Draco usually liked to add.

Lucius, too, leaned in closer, curious to hear the story that’s been on most of the wizards' lips tonight. It’s been a while since Britain faced an international scandal, especially one such as this, involving the precious Boy-Who-Lived.

Severus smirked.

“Oh, yes. And I’m certain it was done at least half-intentionally on Potter’s part.”

“What do you mean? Draco said the girl came in screaming about Potter leaving her stranded-”

“Ah, but I was there when she was questioned, Lucius. She may have lied about Potter promising to take her, but that sly child played them perfectly until the last minute, implying he’ll be waiting at the ballroom. I can bet money that Potter was aiming for a public blow-up. What better way to humiliate someone and paint them as mentally unstable, than with an audience, where nothing could be swept under the rug? And then publicised?”

Lucius shivered, already familiar with the way Potter handled him. With agonizing pain and humiliation.

It was already bad enough Potter had done it in front of his family and Draco’s friends, but if it was done publicly? His reputation would be shredded to pieces. Perhaps his only saving grace that day was that Potter didn't want to be found out himself.

“Well, I can’t fault the boy. If what Skeeter said was true, that Weasley girl was aiming to become Lady Potter.” Narcissa furrowed her nose in disgust. “And with all of the stalking, it would be nothing short of line-theft.”

Severus nodded in agreement. It was clearly one of Albus ploys to keep the boy firmly in the light side, with his trusted family.

“What about-” Lucius stuttered, fighting hard to keep his composure. “What about the other article?” Involving his son.

Severus feigned nonchalance. “Oh?”

“Don’t play stupid, Severus, you know damn well what I’m talking about,” Lucius hissed, aggravated, but calmed down a little when Narcissa placed her hand on his.

“What my husband means to ask, Severus, is it possible that our son is involved with heir Potter?”

Severus kept quiet for a long moment, knowing it was driving Lucius insane. But when it was becoming obvious his friend was about to crack, he spoke up:

“They are close and have become friends, but I don’t believe so. No.”

Lucius visibly relaxed. He wouldn’t know what to do if Draco - Merlin forbid - would want to get involved with someone like Potter. It would be like letting in a demon into his home.

“And that other boy? Heir Beaumont-LaRue?” Narcissa inquired.

“I highly doubt that.” Even though Severus suspected that the French boy wouldn’t be opposed. He, like many others, had moon eyes for the Saviour.

“Hm, it seems that Dumbledore’s life is crumbling as we speak,” Lucius said lively, now that his questions have been answered and his fears dispelled. “International incident, foreign Ministers intervening, the whole debacle with Hagrid,” Lucius sneered. They finally had a good reason to get rid of that man as a professor. “He’s under hot water.”

“He’s been receiving dozens of howlers since the article came out. He still claims it all to be a misunderstanding, which only makes him look incompetent and senile.”

“I’m well aware. I’ve already received summons to the Board of Governors meeting. You should hear what people are saying.”

As if on cue, there were gasps coming from the middle of the ballroom.

All three of them turned to see no one else but Potter, surrounded by half a dozen wizards and witches, speaking animatedly about something, eliciting more gasps from his audience.

Potter was playing them like a fiddle. Severus could tell.

“Well… for being someone so sheltered by Dumbledore, he clearly knows how to play his part.” Lucius was begrudgingly impressed. 

“Oh, I’m sure he’s spinning the latest tale more in his favour,” Severus took a glass of champagne from an elf, sipping it. “See that manical grin? It means nothing good for Albus.” 

“Especially since he’s speaking to the Minister of International Affairs,” Lucius hissed, then chuckled. Merlin, he could see true, unfaked worry on the wizard's face. The usually stoic man who couldn't be fazed by anything. Potter must be spinning quite a tale and Lucius will be damn sure to be there to witness the aftermath.

It will be glorious.

"He's certainly charming," Nott senior exclaimed, as he watched the Potter heir making rounds around the ballroom with grace most would be envious of. "Just look at those fools, hanging on his every word."

It was truly not something you’d see often; Lords and Ladies of Noble Houses, the most influential people Britain could offer, listening to whatever the brat was spewing with rapt attention, and appropriately portrayed expressions.

As far as Severus could tell, Potter already had those lost souls in his pockets.

"He can be, when he wants to."

"Well, his networking skills seem to be just fine. His youth only adds to it."

"And the scandal."

"Of course." Lord Nott grinned. "This is the most exciting year I've had in a long time, Severus. All thanks to the Potter child. Just look at him, building his own little empire on the ruins of Dumbledore’s."

Severus shivered, last conversation with the wizard not forgotten. Potter is gathering his own inner circle.

"Quite a debacable. How is the old fool reacting to his puppet acting out?"

Severus snorted. Potter was anything but a puppet.

"Locked himself in his rooms since breakfast. Hard to look all high and mighty while dozens of howlers rain upon you, I suppose."

The wizard laughed. "Wonderful. The old man is finally getting what he deserves."

"Quite."

There was a silent moment where both men observed Harry, who was now speaking with a yet another group of wizards, who seemed to be becoming just as enchanted as the ones before them.

"Tell me, Severus. What side will you choose when the time comes?"

The Potion’s Master startled, turning to face the other wizard completely.

"What do you mean?"

Nott Senior's eyes no longer glinted with light amusement, but rather something dark.

"The Dark Lord is getting stronger. I'm sure you're well aware of that fact. But I couldn't help but notice your closeness with the Potter boy. I was just wondering… who will you choose when he raises and demands Potter's blood?"

Severus froze monetarily. "I am loyal to the Dark Lord, Theodius. And from where I'm sitting, I'm afraid Potter's side and the Dark Lord's will be one and the same."

"How can you be sure? Has the Dark Lord reached out to you?”

Severus bit back a grimace. He had no idea how the Dark Lord would react to him after all this time, especially since Severus was cleared by Dumbledore after the war, but he was certain if the Dark Lord were to call him right now, it would be anything but pleasant. And certainly not to share his thoughts on Harry Potter.

“No. But with the information I have, it’s the most likely possibility.”

“Curious. Theodore implied the very same thing in his letters. In fact, my grandson is positively giddy with excitement due to this new alliance with heir Potter. Something I never foresaw coming.”

“I don’t think either of us did.”

“Yes, which only makes me that more curious about the boy. What is it about him - apart from the obvious - that caused my own grandson to be so loyal to a half-blood child, who's been nothing but the perfect Light Savior up until a few months ago?"

Severus saw an opportunity for what it was, and a grin spread across his face.

“Why don’t you find out, then?” Severus knew that Potter will feel someone staring at him, and wasn’t disappointed when the boy turned to him a moment later, arching his brow in clear question. So he beckoned for the boy to come. 

"Severus, what are you doing?" Lord Nott hissed.

"Offering you an early Yule present. First hand experience with our Lord's vanquisher."

Theodius instantly felt weary as sharp, Avada green eyes turned to him and shined with recognition.

How curious. Theodius didn’t remember meeting the boy.

However, that downright cold and clinical look the boy shot his way he recognized immediately. He's been appraised by the very same expression many times by his own Lord.

It sent shivers down his spine. 

“You called, professor?”

“Yes. I’d like you to meet Theodius Nott - he’s Theodore’s grandfather.”

Harry’s eyes shot to the older man’s, twinkling with amusement.

Shining with knowledge they weren't privy to.

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lord Nott."

“Trust me, heir Potter, the pleasure is all mine,” the man drawled. “Theo says good things about you.”

“Indeed?” Harry’s voice cracked with danger. He knew his classmates reported things to their parents, but it didn’t mean he had to like it. Especially since most of them were Death Eaters and could use that information against him.

Lord Notts' smile was all teeth.

There was a silent conversation happening, one that Severus clearly wasn’t privy to. But Theodius and Potter were having some strange staring contest and it was bloody ridiculous. 

Severus cleared his throat.

That seemed to snap them out of whatever that was.

"Tell me, heir Potter, how come that the Saviour of the Light turned on his own leader so quickly?"

Snape felt a sense of apprehension; why would Theodius ask that? Well, he knew why, but Merlin gracious, so directly?

"My own leader?" Harry asked innocently. "Are you implying that the old man is recruiting children, Lord Nott?" Harry tutted. "How scandalous. Not even the Dark Lord recruited children to do his dirty work." Harry offered him a sharp grin. "And funny, I don't recall ever signing myself up to be a saviour of anything, lest of all the light. They don't offer much, do they? Other than restrictions on magic, which are nothing more than blasphemy."

Theodius was speechless.

Potter didn't actually admit to anything. Took no sides, not really, and yet, managed to insult the old man splendidly.

The boy did have a point though: Albus preferred to recruit children while the Dark Lord refused anyone who wasn't of age, citing that children had no place in war.

Just how skewed were everyone's morals? Did nobody else gave a knut about what the Potter heir just said? Or did nobody care, as long as they were not involved?

"Quite, heir Potter," Theodius inclined his head. So far, he liked what he was hearing. "Tell me, what are your views on the darker aspects of magic? Or even our sacred rituals?"

Harry’s eyes gained that knowing look again, like he knew exactly what Nott was doing, but the boy was clearly willing to play along.

"Magic is magic, Lord Nott. We as magical beings should be on our knees, thanking Lady Magic for her gifts, and instead? We try to restrict them. Some are trying to erase all mentions of Lady Magic herself, of the rituals in her honour our ancestors participated in for centuries, and that is nothing short of criminal." Harry sneered. "And all because somepeople are bending over backwards to make muggleborns feel welcome, make our world feel just like their muggle one, so they would stay." Harry was becoming angry, and his magic was starting to react. "And that price is our own traditions, our own heritage, our magic. They should be begging for an opportunity to be a part of our world, not the other way around."

Harry went quiet, digging his nails into the insides of his palms hard enough to draw blood. His magic wanted to lash out, but it was out of the question.

He needed to reign himself in.

"What do you think will happen if we manage to erase our sacred traditions and ban more than half of the magic?" Harry asked quietly. "Because if someone disrespected my gifts like that, Lord Nott? I'd make them pay and then… then I'd take them all back."

Both, Theodius and Severus' faces paled considerably once Harry’s implications dawned on them fully.

If this were to happen… it would be nothing short of catastrophe.

"I hope this answers your questions, Lord Nott," the boy said, smiling humorlessly. "But don't you worry. I don't plan on vanquishing your Lord any time soon." Harry didn't even try to hide his knowing smirk this time, eyes wandering to where he knew his Mark to be. "He and I have some things to hash out first. I'm sure you'll understand, being one of his firsts knights and all." The widening of Theodius' eyes and the sheer horror that Harry knew such a thing delighted him. "Have a good night, Lord Nott. Professor." Harry inclined his head and fucked right off, before either of the men could say anything.

Theodius was speechless.

"How..?" He mumbled, shaking his head. "He's- Severus, who is he?"

The Potion’s Master snorted, not giving away that he was feeling shaken as well.

The things Harry said, what he implied… it struck a terror he didn't know was possible deep inside of him.

Could Lady Magic truly take away her gifts?

"That was someone you wouldn't want to meet in the dark alley at night, Theodius," Severus said. "That was the real Harry Potter."

Lord Nott gulped, his hand shooting up to his left forearm where his Dark Mark was tingling.

He pressed his fingers to it, watching heir Potter walk away from them with awe and a sense of impending doom.

Yes… Potter was something else.

Clearly a powerful and influential young wizard, who had the power to elicit dread that reached the deep parts of his soul.

It was unnerving just how much Harry Potter resembled his Lord when he was young.

Theodius didn't know if it was a blessing or a curse, but perhaps… this was exactly what the Magical World needed.

He just knew in his gut that Potter will be important, is important, and that something big was coming.

He just hoped the world was ready for it.

Harry was having so much fun.

The Hogwarts Yule Ball was nothing compared to this one.

The Malfoy Manor looked like a wonderland, yes, but the real magic was happening amongst the wizards.

Harry spoke to seemingly everyone.

He didn't even need to approach anyone, because people simply flocked over to him, their hungry eyes trained on him like an easy prey, with only one thing in their simple minds: gossip.

Everyone wanted to know if what they read was the truth, if the rumours were true, and who was Harry if not a generous preacher to spread truth to the masses?

He made Dumbledore look senile. He made him sound like a deranged old man, grasping at straws to keep whatever power he still had, using Harry for his own dirty deeds.

Harry let it 'slip' at how unfair Dumbledore was being not only to him, but to other students. How he was ignoring student needs and downright putting them in danger.

How curious that people weren't aware of petrifications, of how the little Ginny Weasley opened the Chamber of Secrets because she was in a possession of a dark object. How Harry was practically forced to save her, because he was the only one who had the gift of parseltongue.

And how ever since then Ginny Weasley was obsessed with him, which led to the incident last night.

How Dumbledore and the Gryffindor Head of the House knew about her stalking and did nothing, in fact: they encouraged it.

"I was even advised to check my food for love potions this year," Harry nodded sadly to a group of witches who were hanging on his every word. "My friends overheard that Miss Weasley wishes to be Lady Potter and will stop at nothing to get there. Truly, it's such a shame that actions like this are encouraged by our headmaster. He sees nothing wrong with it, unfortunately. I wonder sometimes, why is he trying to push me onto the Weasley family; it's really weird. Not to mention his interest in me is very unsettling. I thought headmasters are supposed to be unbiased."

As the night went on, Harry spun his web expertly, his youthful appearance and sometimes the fake fear he allowed to show making everything that much more believable.

Poor Harry Potter, harassed by the headmaster.

He'd be surprised if Dumbledore’s many positions will still be intact after the holiday.

Probably not.

Harry will be delighted to see him crumble. Especially as he's the one that keeps pulling stones out of the old coot’s crumbling throne.

Harry enjoyed the festivities, knowing he will be getting a smug "I told you so' later from a certain handsome bloke, but couldn't care less about it.

He managed to do so much damage to the old coot this evening.

He should definitely get a reward.

However, the night wasn't over yet.

He was being summoned to the Lord Malfoy’s office.

"This will be a delightful little chat," Harry hissed, running his finger over the diary, safely hidden within his inner pocket. "I think Lucius wants you back."

Harry could almost feel the revulsion at his innuendo. He grinned.

He knew there was a reason he was invited.

Lucius must've been stewing on this for weeks, ever since that wonderful day at Hogsmeade.

He knocked on the door, only slightly surprised when it opened for him instantly.

Someone's impatient.

"Heir Potter. Welcome. Come, make yourself comfortable." Lucius motioned to the overly fancy armchairs in front of his desk.

Harry smirked, noticing just how tight Lucius was nursing his glass. That one little move gave away his game.

He sat down, observing Lucius study with unbidden curiosity.

It was certainly an impressive room, full of magical artefacts, scrolls and books that hid ancient knowledge. His eyes raked over the quite a few daggers hanging on the wall above Lucius head - just like Harry’s knowledge that hung like the Damascus sword over Lucius, which Harry found to be a funny analogy.

The daggers were so pretty, too.

However, Harry found it surprising to find them in a pureblood home; after all, they rarely liked to get their own hands dirty in a literal sense, and those daggers looked sharp. Perfect to spill blood.

Harry would love to get hands on at least one of them; they looked to be goblin made.

Probably why the wizard had them in the first place.

"A drink?" Lucius offered, and Harry nodded.

"I don't see why not. Wine?"

The older man raised his eyebrow incredulously, but to Harry’s imminent surprise, after a yet another snap of his fingers, a glass of blood red wine appeared in front of Harry.

He grinned.

Malfoy really must be desperate if he thinks alcohol will loosen his tongue.

“You wished to speak with me?” Harry asked politely, not giving anything away. After all, if Lucius wanted something from him, he’ll have to bloody work for it.

“Yes. I hope you received my letter?" Harry nodded." I believe I must apologise for my actions in person, for what happened the last time we met." Lucius bowed his head. "It was… rash of me to presume things and insult you, for which you have my most sincere apologies. I will not make the mistake of believing rumours again, heir Potter."

I will not make the mistake of underestimating you again.

Harry didn’t say anything, knowing his silence was making Lucius squirm. It was entertaining, seeing a pureblood Lord sweating nervously in front of him, a teenager.

“I hope you can accept my apologies, and in return, I’d allow you access to our private library. Draco tells me you’re interested in quite a few obscure texts and magics, and it would be my utmost pleasure to aid you in pursuing your interests."

Harry regarded Lucius coldly, allowing his magic to roam around the room, around Lucius, making the blond shiver with revulsion. Despair, perhaps.

He dragged the silence out until the man most likely believed he would not be forgiven.

“I accept your apologies, Lord Malfoy,” Harry said, smirking when the wizard practically slumped with relief. “Our temper gets the better of us at times, especially if we are… misinformed.”

Lucius looked like he wanted to protest, to show that he isn’t one of the plebians who show emotion in public, but he knew better, it seemed. The memory of what happened last time kept him in check. For now.

“And- I don’t mean to overstep,” Harry’s eyes narrowed, knowing that Lucius was about to overstep, “but I’ve made a mistake years ago, and lost a very precious artifact. A black notebook.” Lucius swallowed nervously. “Perhaps… you’d be amenable to give it back? For a price, of course.”

Harry couldn’t believe his ears.

Was Lucius Malfoy was trying to bribe him into giving him Tom? Sweet talk him with promises of knowledge and gifts, so when Voldemrot comes back, he wouldn’t skin the blond alive?

Did the man even know what sort of precious artefact of Voldemort's he had lost?

He could feel Tom seething at the sheer audacity.

“And why would I do such a thing, Lord Malfoy? After all, you willingly discarded it. It seems to me, the day the notebook made it’s way into Weaselette’s cauldron was the day your loyalties shifted… no?”

Lucius clearly got the implication Harry was making, and his fear and fury were battling for dominance.

The wizard was becoming desperate, and his words came out hurried:

“You don’t understand, child. It’s at utmost importance-”

“Then why did you discard it, just it's so important now?”

“Because I couldn’t allow the Ministry to find it during their raids!”

Harry was taken aback.

Ministry was raiding houses? He remembered something about it… vaguely.

“And for what reason was the Ministry raiding a house of such an upstanding citizen as yourself, Lord Malfoy?” Harry was genuinely curious. As far as he knew, since the war ended Malfoy’s had been exemplary citizens, donating left, right and middle for all sorts of generous causes. For what they lacked in emotions, they repaid in gold.

Lucius sneered. “Oh, please, as if you don’t know. Your precious Arthur Weasley passed a muggle protection decree-”

“Don’t see any muggles around here.” Harry looked around. “How does that decree lead to raids?”

Lucius huffed.

“Ministry was afraid dark artifacts would get into the hands of muggles.”

“This is ridiculous. Who gives a shit about muggles?” Lucius was taken aback by his crude language, but Harry paid him no mind and leaned back into the armchair, taking a sip of the wine. It was delightful: Harry could see himself coming to enjoy wine. "I mean, I'm sure there are a few here and there that could sell or give dark artefacts to a muggle, but that's what the obliviators are for. Quite frankly, I don't see why we should be interested in protecting muggles, when it should be the opposite: we need protection from them."

That got the Malfoy intrigued.

"Elaborate."

Glady, Harry thought.

"It's a wast and controversial topic, Lord Malfoy, but to name a few things… take muggleborns, for example." The blond looked at Harry incredulously, but Harry just smirked. "They are at their muggle relatives mercy until they come of age and can legally leave. Magic isn't perceived as a gift to muggles: most believe it to be evil, something to be destroyed and feared. They think magic is unnatural and freaky, and if the muggles are religious, the work of the devil. Now, what do you think would happen to a child if their parents saw accidental magic and deemed it a danger? I wouldn't be surprised if many of them don't make it to their eleventh birthday, until the Magical World finally reaches out to them." Lucius face paled at Harry’s quite brute implications. He smiled mirthlessly. "Muggles would never accept a gift that is magic. They would never understand it. And what muggles don't understand, they fear and they destroy. Witch trials are a perfect example of that, and with the weapons they have today? If they became aware of us on a mass scale? They'd wipe us all out. Make no mistake of that."

Harry would've enjoyed the stark white face of the blond, if what he was saying wasn't the truth and their situation wasn't so dire.

He couldn't understand why muggle parents weren't forced to sign a secret contract. Why was it all based on trust, when muggle parents kept demanding things from the Ministry at a threat of exposure.

Harry was hopeful that once the Dark Lord takes over he'll fix this giant gaping loophole, before they're all doomed.

He couldn't understand how wizards chose to be so bloody blind to the threat of extinction they were living it.

It would take one, one muggle to expose them. And then one nuke to kill them all. 

"That- that is a strong opinion to have, heir Potter," Lucius stammered, gripping his glass of firewhisky like his life depended on it.

"It's not an opinion, it's a fact," Harry said. "I lived with muggles, Lord Malfoy. Do you know what they think about magic?" Lucius shook his head. "They think it's freaky. They think that we all are freaks and need to be killed. Now, that's only one family, but I'm certain there are more who think the same. Who think our world is dangerous and needs to be destroyed. Tell me, what kind of preventative measures are taken so one miffed family doesn't expose us all out of sheer spite?"

Lucius face lost all colour.

"None," he whispered, horrified. "It's operated completely on faith, that the parents want the best for their children."

Harry was dreading that.

Sure, those who loved their kids would never even deign to think others would want to harm them. It's an inconceivable notion, especially in pureblood circles where magical children are cherished.

"Well, you're an influential man, Lord Malfoy. I'm sure with time you can spread the truth and implement changes for the safety of our world."

Lucius nodded numbly.

"And this is why I find that muggle protection act completely ridiculous." Harry huffed. He ought to bring that up to Skeeter in some way, or nothing will get done. For now, he has international attention on him, being a champion. People would listen. "As for the black notebook, Lord Malfoy, I'm afraid it's out of your reach."

"Excuse me?"

Harry shrugged nonchalantly. "It's not yours. It's never been yours. But don't you worry, I will return it to the rightful owner."

It wasn't going to take much to push the already irked and scared Lord Malfoy to the edge. Like every animal facing a death sentence, he will lash out.

And it will be beautiful.

Even now his eyes were starting to twitch after not getting what he wanted immediately.

"You do not understand, boy. That notebook is not mine-"

"I'm well aware."

"Then you won't mind returning it to me."

Harry laughed delightedly, turning his razor sharp smile onto the blond.

"No."

Lucius' composure was crumbling. Faster than Harry expected, too.

The older wizard stood up, walking up to Harry, perhaps in hopes to intimidate him… but Harry wasn't scared.

He knew if needed be, he could activate Lucius Mark and send him to his knees.

"I'm afraid this is not up for negotiation," Lucius gritted his teeth, his hand gripping his cane that held his concealed wand, ready to curse Harry at a moment's notice. "Hand it over, Potter."

Harry smiled, taking another sip of his wine before putting the glass down, slowly, and leaned back down into his seat.

It's not like he was in a hurry and was dependent on having a certain diary to stay alive.

"Eat shit, Lucius," Harry spat with no concerned for his crude language. "You're delusional if you think I truly came here to hand you over one thing that will ensure your safety."

It was like the ball dropped. Their shaky peace was over, and Malfoy pointed his wand at him, looking completely deranged as he shouted, finally losing his composure:

"I NEED THAT JOURNAL BACK, YOU WILL GIVE IT BACK!"

“Back?” Harry mocked, unconcerned by the wand pointed at him. “I don’t think you understand, Lucius Malfoy. Tom isn’t going anywhere. I can't give you back something that was never meant to be yours."

Lucius stumbled back, eyes wide with shock.

"Tom?" He muttered.

Harry’s smile grew bloodthirsty and he slowly stood up. "Oh, yes. Tom. Would you like to meet him?"

Lucius' eyes narrowed.

The man must've realized he was walking into a trap all along.

But there was fear there, in those pale silver eyes. Fresh delicious fear that Harry wished to bring out into the world for all to see.

So he could bask in it.

"Well then. You're the one who wanted to see the precious book. Here it is."

Harry reached inside his pocket, feeling the diary heat up under his fingers to a painful degree.

Tom was probably mad: this wasn't what they agreed on doing, but the result will be the same - Lord Malfoy will help his Lord.

Harry just didn't expect the man to reach over and snatch it out of his hands.

Which was a monumentally stupid idea; Tom didn’t like it.

"Either give my journal back to Harry, Lucius, or I will crucio you."

The older man jumped a foot into the air as Tom Riddle materialised next to him, glaring murderously at the blond.

"Now, before you make me really mad."

"I- who are-" Lucius gasped and fell to his knees, clutching his Mark. "My Lord! I apologise, my Lord!" 

With his head still bowed and his hands shaking, he handed the diary back to Harry. Practically threwit at him.

"I meant no harm, I swear!"

Tom gave Harry a smug smirk, who simply rolled his eyes.

Arrogant prick.

"Get up, Lucius. You're a Lord. Act like it."

Malfoy scrambled to his feet, head still bowed.

Tom tutted.

"Truly, is it not enough you gave something that wasn't yours to begin with away, now you want to steal it back? From Harry, no less? How rude."

Lucius was speechless.

Maybe it was shock. He most definitely didn't expect his Lord to appear in front of him today, and scold him.

"My most sincere apologies, my Lord. I will take any punishment you see fit."

"Well, aren't you trained well," Harry snorted, earning himself a glare. "You should've done this sooner," he told Tom, who rolled his eyes.

"Oh please, don't act like you didn't enjoy goading Lucius to lose control, darling."

The blond's eyes widened at the endearment as well as the implication that Potter was playing him all this time.

"Was I right, then? My Lord, were you possessing the boy?"

Harry’s eyes widened with incredulity. "You thought what?" He hissed, making Lucius flinch back. "I can't fucking believe this. I do all the dirty work and all the credit still goes to you!" He pointed at Tom, who looked way too smug for someone stuck in a diary. "Fucking he-" Harry cut himself off and turned his murderous expression to the Malfoy Lord, who suddenly looked unsure and clearly wanted to bolt, especially after Harry stood up. "That was me. No possession, no influence from the Dark Lord, just the little ol' me." Harry started prowling towards Malfoy, a nasty furious expression on his face. "Shocking, isn't it? Clearly you wanted to explain my sudden change of character with something more believable… and the Dark Lord possessing the poor unsuspecting Light Saviour was much more believable than Harry Potter finally having had enough, wasn't it?"

The panicked look in Lucius' eyes was answer enough and Harry scoffed.

"Typical."

"Don't be so harsh on Lucius, dear. I'm sure he didn't mean to insult your abilities." Tom sent a charming smile towards his follower, who looked to be caught between two predators and didn't know which one was worse. "Did you?"

Lucius shook his head.

"No- no! I swear I meant nothing by it."

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Whatever. Our time is limited and since you now know about him," he motioned towards Tom, "you will help us."

"Anything my Lord requires."

Simpering fool, Harry thought.

"You deal with him," Harry snarled and went back for his wine glass. Maybe he should bribe Malfoy to gift him all of it. He definitely could afford to lose a few bottles of… whatever wine this was. He really liked the taste of it.

"Is this the beggining of you becoming an alcoholic, Harry darling?"

"Sod off and deal with that idiot."

"Yes, my Lord." Tom smirked, and his eyes gained a bloodthirsty glint when he noticed his follower's terrified expression. Parseltongue must've been the final nail in the coffin for Lucius; if the blond had any doubts about who was standing in front of him, now they were all gone.

Oh, how Tom adored and appreciated Harry’s love for terrorising the masses.

"Luciusss…" Tom turned to him and made sure to drag out the sss's. "Tell me. What sprung you into action this summer, during the World Cup? Who gave you the orders to expose us, not only to magicals, but to muggles?"

Truly, could Malfoy get any paler?

"M-My Lord, we- we only did it to warn the world of your return!"

"And how-" Tom stalker menacingly towards him. "How is that helpful in any way to our cause?"

"Yeah, Malfoy, how is terrifying people going to push them towards willingly joining the Dark Lord?" Harry asked. "Pretty sure it's going to push them towards Dumble-dick. Just sayin'."

Tom's head snapped to Harry, eyes narrowing. "Are you drunk?' He hissed.

Harry shrugged. "Mmm, don't think so. But this wine? I'm a fan. Tell Malfoy he owes me at least a dozen of these."

Tom closed his eyes in exasperation.

Of course Harry would latch onto the elven wine like it was the next best thing.

At least it didn't loosen his tongue, like Lucius was probably expecting.

"What Harry means to say is… you acted on your own, hoping this would please me…" Lucius was nodding along. "You acted like brash gryffindors." A wince. "Where did that slytherin cunning go? I thought better of you. Tut-tut. How disappointing."

"I'll do whatever you need me to do, my Lord."

"Simpering fool," Harry muttered.

"Good, Lucius, because I have some work for you," Tom said, shooting Harry a pointed look at his new glass of wine. "You see… I'm in a predicament. The night darling Harry over there survived my killing curse… it left me without a body. As you can see, I have one now, but it is… temporary. What I require of you, Lucius… is to have your ritual room prepared for me when I require it. I will send more presice instructions when the time comes, but the question is, will you do as I ask?"

Malfoy bowed. "Anything we have is yours, my Lord. It will be done."

"Good," Tom purred, earning an eyeroll from Harry. "Then I'm sure you will make a vow then, Lucius? Just to make sure your tongue doesn't slip and you don't accidentally… reveal my return to anyone?"

"I would never betray you, my Lord." Lucius actually managed to look offended for a moment. "But- yes, of course."

"You will swear on your life and magic."

Malfoy’s eyes widened, but he nodded nonetheless. Not like he was given a choice, not really.

He pulled out his wand.

"I, Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, swear on my life and magic to not reveal what my Lord or Harry Potter had said to me in confidence to anyone dead or living, unless my Lord deems it so. On my life and magic I swear, so mote it be."

Harry watched with fascination how magic flashed around Lucius, accepting his claim.

Harry’s never seen anyone swear a vow before.

It was fascinating.

"There's one more thing, Lucius," Harry said from his seat, suddenly looking mischievous. "At the end of this school year or even before, it's very possible that your Mark will come back to life and you will be summoned. If that happens… even then you shall not mention this meeting to anyone. Not even Voldemort, not until we're alone."

"O-of course."

"So, you still want the diary back?" Harry asked lightly, earning himself a scalding glare from his partner.

"No need, heir Potter. I now see it's in good hands."

"See? He thinks my hands are good." Harry smiled sheepishly and shot Tom a wink.

"You're drunk," Tom hissed, more exasperated than angry, but even he couldn't stop his eyes from roaming, liking what he saw. "But you do look delicious in those robes, darling."

Harry’s eyes widened and he blushed.

How could Tom just say something like that?!

But two could play this game-

"Why don't you give me a kiss then? A kiss for me, a heart attack for Luci."

Tom's eyes burned.

"Don't tempt me as such, Harry," Tom hissed lowly, his pupils blown wide. "My control while immaculate, it might just snap."

"Oh? Let it snap then," Harry continued to goad. He really should've had more self preservation, because Tom looked ready to pounce him, but all Harry felt was excitement and not an ounce of fear.

He wasn't sure if it was a good thing or not.

"Just wait till we get back to the Chamber, dear-"

Knock, knock, knock.

All three of them froze.

Harry immediately sat up properly.

"Not a word to anyone, Lucius," Tom hissed. "Or else."

"Of course, my Lord."

Harry grabbed the diary, tucking it back into his secret pocket just as Tom had disappeared.

He still felt flushed.

Merlin, he couldn't wait to get back just so he could snog the Dark Lord.

What a weird thing to say.

Lucius shouted for whoever was on the other side to come in, and Snape strolled in like he owned the place.

"Potter. What are you doing here?"

Harry simply raised a questioning eyebrow, hoping he didn't look suspicious.

"Talking, professor."

"Well, it's time to go."

"Oh, is it?" Lucius tsked, casting a tempus. "Would you look at that! Time flies by. Well, it was nice speaking to you, heir Potter. Do send me a letter if you have any questions."

Harry almost rolled his eyes at that.

"I will, Lord Malfoy. Thank you for having me."

"Go and wait for me at the receiving room," Snape instructed, looking at Harry suspiciously. "I will be down momentarily."

Harry bid his goodbyes and walked out, wondering where the fuck was the room Snape spoke of.

Malfoy Manor was huge and he wasn't really paying attention earlier, considering an elf was escorting him about.

Oh well.

Not like he minds wandering.

"Are you drunk?" Draco hissed, taking a firm hold of his elbow and dragging Harry towards the room with a fireplace. "Severus will skin you alive!"

Harry shrugged, smiling sheepishly at Draco. "Your father's fault. He gave me wine. Good one too, I might just steal a few bottles from your stores."

"Don't be pathetic, Potter. And what were you doing with my father?!"

Harry shrugged.

"Just s'me business."

"What business?" Draco asked sharply.

"Sorry, Dray," Harry patted the blond's hand. "I'm afraid it's above your pay grade."

"Above my- tell me you didn't do something terrifying again."

"Relax, we just sorted out some things. We're brill now, really, pretty much besties. You'll see."

Draco closed his eyes in exasperation, while Harry simply offered a loopy grin.

"Oh, don't be like that, Draco. You'll… probably, no promises though, will see what I'm talking about come summer. That is, if everything works out well and Dumbledore doesn't dose me with something or kidnap me. That would really suck."

"You'd think he'd truly do that?" Draco asked, horrified at the prospect.

He never had to worry about anything like that. His father would most likely kill anyone who ever dared to do something like that to him, and his mother would be thrice as vicious, but… Harry didn't have anyone like that, did he?

He didn't have parents who would defend him.

He was all alone.

Vulnerable.

Up for grabs for the likes of Dumbledore and Weasleys and whoever else wished a piece of the Boy-Who-Lived.

Draco didn't know what he'd do in Harry’s situation. 

No wonder Harry pretended to be someone else all these years: he had no one to protect him. And Draco was an idiot not to notice that.

But now Harry said he was a Lord… which can only happen to those of age or… emancipated. He must be. That's why he snapped and was no longer bending backwards for the mudblood or ginger. Why he was ruining the old coot’s reputation with ruthless precision.

Why he could be himself, even if this version of Harry Potter was bloody terrifying. It was still better than that simpering gryffindor he was before.

"Yes," Harry answered. "He needs his saviour to fight the Dark Lord."

"Which you're not going to do?"

"'F course not, Dray. We're brill, even though part of him is bloody insane- ouch!"

"What's wrong?" Draco asked immediately, stopping to look at Potter more closely.

"Ah, nothing, nothing. Nevermind what I said. So uh… are you staying here for the rest of the holidays?"

Draco huffed. "And what, leave you alone to terrorise the masses? Come on, you weren't sitting with us onetime and you made a nemesis. Not to mention that spectacle with the ginger twit. No, Potter, I'm not missing any more drama."

Harry chuckled. "Yeah, sounds about right. Not my fault things just happen to me."

"Isn't that right," Draco muttered. "At least try to act sober. Sev will kill you and my mother will not be happy either."

"I'll just blame your father. Sev will too; he was the one who came to get me."

Good thing that he met Potter in the hallway and not somebody else. Merlin, that would be embarrassing.

"There you are," Narcissa greeted them with a soft smile, although her eyes looked sharply at their conjoined hands. "I've been looking for you."

Draco immediately preened under his mother's attention, to Harry's amusement.

"Did you need something, mother?"

"Just to ask if you really are leaving. You know I'd love to have you home for the holiday, dear. You, of course, are welcome as well, heir Potter."

"Thank you for your generous offer, Lady Malfoy, but I'm afraid I will have to decline," Harry bowed his head, wondering what it would do to Lucius if he actually stayed to haunt his Manor. Would most likely drive the man insane, and as funny as that would be, Harry didn't have the luxury of time on his hands to do that. 

"Very well," Narcissa smiled. "Draco?"

The boy shook his head. "It's the perfect time to make connections, mother. I promise to be home for the next Yule."

The witch sighed, but agreed nonetheless. "And where is your father and Severus?"

"Father's office. Sev went to get Harry because we need to leave, but it's obvious it isn't that urgent if he stayed behind to gossip."

"Draco," Narcissa chided, but she was clearly amused. "I'm sure they'll be here shortly. In the mean time, may I have a moment to speak with heir Potter?"

Draco nodded and took a few steps back, hoping Potter wouldn't make a fool out of himself in front of his mother. Merlin, he was drunk, or at least very tipsy.

Draco instantly bristled when Harry lazily flicked his wrist and a privacy barrier shot up. Now he wouldn't be able to hear anything!

"What do you wish to inquire about, Lady Malfoy?" Harry asked politely, knowing better than to be rude to someone like Narcissa Malfoy. She was born a Black, after all. Harry could tell that the protective viciousness they felt towards their family never dwindled, no matter who they married.

"What are your intentions towards my son?"

Harry's eyes widened in surprise. This wasn't what he was expecting you to be asked, and so directly too. He figured she'd ask about her husband.

"My intentions?" He repeated, feeling completely out of his depth. "I'm- I find myself more than a little confused, Lady Malfoy."

She huffed.

"I find that hard to believe since I found you two holding hands, heir Potter."

Harry frowned. "I just had a bout of dizziness, Lady Malfoy. Draco was making sure I don't taste your floor, no matter how pristine they might be."

Narcissa frowned.

"You-" her eyes darted towards her son, who was standing with a disgruntled pout on his face. "Are you telling me there is nothing going on between you two?"

Harry was truly confused this time.

"Like what? I mean, we've become quite good allies and I'd even call us friends, Lady Malfoy, but that's it."

Seriously, what did she want from him?

Narcissa's eyes scanned him for a good moment before she nodded.

"Well then. I wish you blessed Yule, heir Potter."

"Blessed Yule to you and your family as well, Lady Malfoy," Harry returned the greeting, hoping he didn't act like too much of a fool today. "You were a wonderful host."

She smiled at him, sincerely. Harry was pretty sure.

"Thank you, dear. Oh, look. Severus is coming."

And indeed he was, looking like he was sucking on a sour lemon.

Lucius better not have snitched, Harry thought darkly as he dropped the privacy barrier. The wizard was sly enough to imply things without a vow reacting, but he should know better than to test that theory.

…pretty sure.

"Leaving already, Severus?" Narcissa asked warmly, and Merlin, what a difference it was from the way she spoke to him.

"Yes."

"Well, I'm glad you showed up this year. Truly, don't even try to tell me you didn't enjoy yourself."

A smile was threatening to grace Snape's face and Harry felt as if he stumbled into an alternate realm.

Snape didn't do smiling.

He sneered, he smirked, but he neversmiled.

And yet.

It was just another harsh reminder that everyone was wearing masks around him, and Harry needed to be more careful.

"What are you two waiting for? You know the floo address, the password is agrippa, if you need a reminder. Go, I will be there shortly."

Draco rolled his eyes.

"Come on, Potter. We're clearly unwanted here."

Snape snorted and Narcissa had a look of fond exasperation in her eyes, but neither of them objected while Draco dragged Harry towards the floo.

Harry wondered what those two were talking about.

From the eyes he felt bearing into his skull, it was most likely about him.

Snape was a bloody gossip. So was Draco.

So was bloody everyone at the Ball, just itching to get another piece of Harry's life to talk about, since their own were so dull.

Was Voldemort like this as well?

Snooping around to find the jucy parts about others, using it in his own favour? But he was a powerful Legilimens, did he really need to snoop around? One look into someone's mind and he's golden.

"Where's my father? I was joking before, but you didn't do anything, did you? He should've been here to say goodbye." Draco asked worriedly, looking around.

"He's fine, I promise," Harry said, pushing Draco towards that damned floo. "Your godfather probably killed him for giving me wine."

Malfoy snorted. "Yeah, right. Try not to fall out, yeah? If I have to catch you, you'll owe me five galleons."

Harry glared at the smirking blond, wishing he pushed him into those bloody flames himself, but it was a little too late: Draco was already gone.

Smug bastard, Harry thought

It wasn't his fault floo hated him.

Tom theorised it had something to do with his power levels being higher than average teenager's, but he didn't know for sure. He had nothing to compare it to either. 

Tom himself rarely had to use the floo in his teens, and he was still unfairly graceful.

With everything.

Wizarding travel just wasn't for Harry. He'd fly everywhere if he could, but alas, it wasn't meant to be.

Harry grabbed a handful of floo powder and sneered at it, throwing it into the fire.

He was sure all of this was Voldemort’s fault, somehow.

That killing curse must've done some damage, right? It's not like he could read about the long lasting effects of the killing curse, since there was only one symptom: death. And he didn't bloody die, so, who's to say Voldemort didn't fuck up something significant inside of him?

Harry stepped into the fire, fuming.

Everything in his life circled about that bloody nutter. It was like he couldn't bloody escape Voldemort, no matter where he turned, what he tried, something was linked to him.

Oh.

Harry forced down nausea as everything started spinning.

One more reason to hate floo travel.

Who the fuck invented it in the first place?! Who in their right mind thought, hey, a fireplace! Why don't I step in it and appear someplace else?

Insane.

Completely and utterly bonkers.

He was spat out of the fireplace more viciously than he should've been, and groaned, lying his spinning head on the floor.

"Fuck your five galleons, Malfoy. You owe me ten."

No one answered him, and Harry curiously lifted his head to see why.

He was instantly on edge.

The room was too warm to be Hogwarts dungeon. There was a carpet on it. Posh carpet.

Where the fuck was he?

"Potter?!" A voice called out and Harry froze. He recognised that voice.

Fuck.

He was in deep, deep shit.