The Maltese Phoenix

“Potter, come see me at the Delphi.”

Harry propped his feet up on the desk while rolling himself a cigarette.

“Your master came to see Ginny.”

“I know,” Malfoy answered.

“How did you get past the vow of silence?” Harry went on placing the cigarette in the corner of his mouth and lighting up.

“I’ll tell you, but face to face. Come now, go up to the blonde and give her your name.”

“Why are you so eager for me to come?” Harry muttered.

“Because we need to talk. Come.” He hung up. Harry remained in his seat for a few seconds, and then let out a sigh before getting up, putting his coat on and turning the lights off in his office. He apparated to the Delphi’s lobby and wandered over to reception where a smartly dressed blonde greeted him.

“Hello, welcome to the Delphi Hotel and Spa. How may I be of service?”

“Harry Potter,” the unspeakable uttered, watching the woman to see her expression. She let out an ‘oh’ and gave him a smile.

“Right this way,” she beckoned coming around her desk and leading him towards the back corner, past the elevators and through a small, chandelier-lit corridor to a pair of golden doors guarded by an elevator boy wearing the black and gold colors of the Delphi. The blonde gave him a nod and the elevator doors were opened, Harry stepped in followed by the boy who stepped in as mechanically as if he were a robot. He pressed on a single button with the letter ‘P’ and the lift jerked up. Harry frowned and took a step towards the elevator boy whose rigid back was facing him.

“I forgot to tell the receptionist something, could we go back down?”

“The lift has to arrive at its destination for it to come back down,” the boy said coldly.

“Oh” Harry said nodding slightly, his hand sliding quietly into his coat pocket. As soon as his hand came into contact with the fabric and let out a rustle, the elevator boy whipped around wand in hand.

“Expelliarmus!”

Harry cursed when his wand flew away from him and into the redhead’s freckled hand. Just then, the elevator came to a halt with a welcoming ‘ding’ and the doors were opened. Two tall Death Eaters stepped into the lift and grabbed Harry one by each arm before leading him out to the foyer where a mahogany, rococo style gueridon with an ornate, antique mirror hanging over it were set on a white paneled wall with gold ceiling stuccos. Just when Harry thought they were going to run into the table, they made a sharp turn left to a ballroom-like space with high-vaulted ceilings and silk pearl- colored drapes hanging over the high windows overlooking the balcony. For a moment, Harry started wondering if he had walked into a penthouse or an 18th century palace. The men brought him towards the center of the two-story salon and sat him down on a sofa matching the gold fleur de lys motives on the navy carpet. As soon as his body hit the fabric, he felt himself being restrained by invisible forces that kept him in his seat no matter how hard he tried to move. He could hear voices coming behind an archway at the end of the room into which a Death Eater had disappeared. Harry heard the chatting stop, and the guard announce his arrival. Suddenly, he heard the scuffle of feet against carpet coming his way. Harry turned to look out the tall windows overlooking Elyssian Alley, he’d never liked it. Way overpriced and pretentious in his mind. In the distance he could see Diagon Alley, a chunk of carbon compared to the glitz and glamour of Elyssian.

“Enjoying the view?”

Harry turned to look at his nemesis, expression cold and jaded.

“I hate Elyssian Alley.”

Voldemort gave him a tightlipped smile and his right hand which was holding an almost empty wine glass, was brought elegantly towards his lips. When he was done, he waved it off and it flew towards the mantle. With his now free right hand, Voldemort made a gesture at the windows which caused the view to change from urban Elyssian to that of a never-ending green lawn with flowers beds and a fountain far off.

“The gardens of Versailles,” the Dark Lord went onto say. “Or perhaps, Rodin’s sculpture garden?”

The green lawn became dotted with white marble figures, a fountain at the very end flanked by two large green hedges that marked the end of the garden. Harry turned back to look at Voldemort unimpressed. He noticed Draco Malfoy in the far corner by the piano, his expression unreadable. Lucius Malfoy was standing pleasantly behind his master eyeing Potter with a smirk.

“Where’s Ginevra, Harry?”

Harry smirked. “You of all people should know.”

The Dark Lord smiled lightly; however, it was clear that he was not in the most patient of moods.

“I know she was moved, and that you arranged it,” the Dark Lord went on, he sniffed humorously at the look on the boy’s face. “You two are very predictable people, Harry, and I am starting to think I know the both of you more than your own parents.”

“She hasn’t come to me,” Harry replied. “She did check out of her hotel, but I haven’t seen her.”

“After all these years, Harry, I would have thought you would know not to lie to my face,” he replied coming towards the boy, his silk robes hovering over the fine carpeting. Harry grinned up at him. “I guess I’m a thickheaded son of a bitch.”

“Stop fooling around, protecting her won’t get you anywhere,” Voldemort snapped, drawing his wand out. Harry shrugged his shoulders, the grin still plastered on his face. “It’s not my fault if your girlfriend doesn’t want to see you.”

The last thing Harry remembered was seeing Voldemort’s thin lips set in an angry line and his wand being raised. A second later, he was bucking against the chair, scissors sniping away at his nerves. It had been a long time since he had been crucioed by the master of the curse himself, and even though he had undergone extensive training as an Unspeakable, he found it hard to suppress a few agonized moans. Suddenly, a long-fingered hand shot out and wrapped itself around Harry’s throat, with the bottom of Voldemort’s hand placed under his chin, Harry’s gaze was forced up where it was captured by the Dark Lord who thrust into his mind at the same time as the Cruciatus was lifted. Harry’s weakened mind buckled under Voldemort’s red gaze; however, it managed to block his advances and push him out of his mind with one superhuman burst of energy. The Dark Lord jumped back as if he had been burned and surveyed Harry angrily, eyes mere slits. He turned to his underlings.

“Vodka tonic!” he barked, immediately the Death Eater closest to the archway at the end of the room disappeared into it. The Dark Lord turned back to the boy, pursed his lips, and waved his wand at him. Harry braced himself for another bout of the cruciatus, but nothing happened. Frowning, he pressed himself deeper into his armchair breathing heavily, his throbbing head palpitating as fast as his heart.

“I confess myself disappointed, Harry,” Voldemort said, taking a seat in one of the armchairs facing Harry. “I’ve always thought of you as being at least . . . mildly intelligent, but now I see that that trait is on the verge of extinction with your generation.” He paused and held out his hand where a Death Eater placed a tall glass filled with a clear liquid, gave a bow and scuttled back to his place.

“Do you really think Ginny cares about you?”

“I want a smoke.”

“I don’t allow smoking in these premises,” Voldemort said sharply. Harry let out a bitter laugh.

“Answer me, Harry.”

“I want a cigarette.”

Voldemort sighed and gave Harry a patronizing glance. “Harry, you smell like you’ve been rolling around in an ashtray for the past two decades. Remember that spell I cast on you after ordering my drink? It was an odor blocking charm.”

Draco Malfoy sniffed humorously. Harry glared at him before turning his attention back to Voldemort who was smirking.

”Quitting would be a good idea.”

Harry returned his smirk. “I’ll quit smoking when you quit drinking.”

Voldemort threw his head back laughing, his hand tightening on the glass which he brought up to his lips and sipped.

“Oh, Harry, what makes you think I drink as compulsively as you smoke?”

Harry nodded towards the mantle where an empty wine glass stood, he then swiveled his head towards the drink in Voldemort’s hand.

“It’s been like what . . . 20 minutes since this lovely visit began?” Harry said mocking. Voldemort clenched his jaw.

“I suggest you tell me where that redheaded bitch is, I don’t care what she told you or how many times she slept with you, she is not to be trusted and you are better off looking after yourself.”

“Of course she wasn’t to be trusted by you, she is on our side.”

Voldemort pursed his lips slightly, his eyes fixed on Potter.

“Draco!”

Malfoy shuffled over to his master throwing Potter a glance. Voldemort brought the glass to his lips while muttering, “Tell Potter the real reason why you beat your wife in Constantinople.”

Harry looked up at the blond whose expression had gone even more guarded, his face trying to remain as straight as possible.

“I walked in on her and his lordship in our hotel room. After my master left, Ginny confessed that she had been seeing him since before our wedding.”

Voldemort sniffed humorously and smiled lightly as if recalling a fond memory. He sipped on his drink and leaned over placing it on the table while waving Malfoy off.

“See, Harry? It isn’t about sides. Ginny is a conniving, two-faced wench who uses men to get to her goals.”

Harry smirked. “So, you’re admitting you fell for her,too?”

“No, she tried to play me like she played her husband, Rodolphus, and you but she found she wasn’t able to. When she heard about the Maltese Phoenix she tried to convince me that we should share its power.” He snorted. “When it became obvious I would never go for it, she decided to go to Constantinople herself and get it. Of course, I must admit that I did make the mistake of sending her to Constantinople with Rodolphus and Malfoy. I never thought she would dare do what she did, and I figured her husband and Rodolphus would keep tabs on her; however, I wasn’t aware of her relationship with Lestrange.”

Harry remained quietly in his seat, mentally recording all the information.

“How did Malfoy get around the vow to tell you her location?”

“I told him that I wanted to go visit Ginny, and . . . rekindle our relationship,” The Dark Lord said quietly. “Once there I got all useful information from her by making her believe I was going to kill her –not that I won’t, but at the moment I need her alive at least until I get the bird – after I left she no doubt ran to you seeking protection because she realized she had just given away the last piece of information she could bargain for her life with.” Voldemort ended in a monotone, he then paused and cocked his head to the side, the corner of his lips tugging upwards slightly.

“Are you going to play the sap for her, Harry? Are you going to follow in the footsteps of Malfoy, Rodolphus and, to an extent, myself?”

“How was Rodolphus played?” Harry asked.

“Before I killed him he revealed that not only had Mrs. Malfoy talked him into betraying me and taking the phoenix, but on the night your friend was killed, Ginny told Rodolphus that the ship with the bird was arriving and that they should go pick it up - this is how I learned of the ship’s existence."

Voldemort stopped and sipped on his tonic before setting it down on the table and leaning back into the armchair.

“Lestrange told me how when they got to the harbor, Ginny had brought to his attention a hooded figure who was following them. She identified him as Macnair and told Rodolphus that he was probably sent by me to kill them, and that he should kill him first. However, Rodolphus refused to kill him because he knew Walden was a better dueler, and so he cowered and jumped in the channel. I was taken back by this, I admit, because I knew that Macnair had just been captured in Constantinople after breaking Malfoy out, and so imagine my surprise when in next morning’s paper, I find out that Ronald Weasley had been found dead at the harbor. Immediately I understood that you must’ve been somewhat involved, and so that is when I sent Malfoy to investigate you and make sure Ginny hadn’t given you the bird for safe keeping and that it was, indeed, on the boat. However, seeing as he failed in his task, I had to track down his wife and find out for myself which is why I visited her that morning.”

Voldemort paused and looked at Harry expectantly, waiting for him to say something. However, the Boy-Who-Lived’s face remained emotionless.

“Potter, putting on a poker face won’t deter me from questioning you,” the Dark Lord said aggressively. To prove his point he stood up and strolled towards Harry, wand hanging loosely from his hand.

“You already know what boat and at what time the bird is coming in, so why do you need Ginny?” Harry said, coldly looking up at his nemesis who was towering above him. Voldemort parted his thin lips to reply, but then a panting man burst from the foyer.

“Milord!” he gasped. “The ‘La Paloma’ is on fire at Port Talbot.”

Voldemort cursed and looked back at Draco. “Keep Potter here!” he barked as he Disapparated along with everyone else in the room leaving Harry and Draco alone. Harry gave Malfoy a fake, friendly smile at which Malfoy rolled his eyes and sat down in the armchair Voldemort had vacated.

“How can you serve him knowing he was sleeping with your wife this whole time?” Harry asked.

“You serve or you die,” Malfoy said briefly while digging in his pocket and withdrawing a cigarette. Harry made a mock gasp.

“Malfoy, if your master finds out . . . .”

Draco shrugged one shoulder. “If he smells it he’ll blame you and your stink.”

Harry smiled humorously and stared at the smoking cigarette in Malfoy’s hand longingly. Draco seemed to notice for he took a drag thoughtfully and then withdrew a silver cigarette box which he opened and withdrew another cigarette. Harry watched him in shock as he came towards him, muttered a few words, and suddenly the chair’s pull was lifted from Harry’s arm. The unspeakable accepted the cigarette that was being held out by Malfoy, placed it between his lips and lit up while muttering ‘thanks’. Malfoy shrugged, a smirk on his face.

“Dark Lord’s going to kill me anyway, might as well make his place smell as much as possible.”

Harry let out a laugh and took in a long drag from the cigarette, sighing the smoke out causing it to create a grey curtain between him and the blond. Harry quickly placed the cigarette between his lips and his free hand summoned his wand from the mantle where the guards had placed it. When the curtain of smoke dissipated and Malfoy realized what was happening, Harry had already stunned him. The Unspeakable waved his wand over himself and felt the chair’s grip loosen until he was able to stand up. He walked over to Malfoy’s rigid body and gave him an apologetic smile, Malfoy’s grey eyes stared at him furiously.

“Sorry, have to stop your master.”

The lividness went out of Draco’s eyes and instead a cold determination took over them. Harry smiled.

“I’ll get back at him and Ginny for you.”

With that, he spun on his heel and walked over to the fireplace, he grabbed floo and threw it in the fire before stepping in.

“Harry Potter’s office,” he said loudly before closing his eyes and feeling the familiar pull as he was taken away.