My Past Will Always Catch Up

Title: My Past Will Always Catch up
Author: Allanasha Ke Kiri
Summary: After the deaths of both Ron and Hermione in their seventh year, Harry ran. The pressure was too much; they thought he’d be back, after he realized they needed him. But he never returned, just ran and hid in the one place he was sure no one would look for him.
Rating: M
Warnings: Sexual content


Chapter 6


I nearly started laughing at Nott’s expression when I left my room. He looked surprised, lustful. Who’d have thought he’d still lust after me when I was dressed in something that covered me completely. It was highly amusing.

He grunted slightly.

I raised an eyebrow, but he didn’t elaborate. The other one joined it when Nott held out his arm to me.

He sighed, becoming irritated with me … I loved it. “Apparation. It’s a lot faster than any of your muggle means.”

Keeping my expression cool, I stepped closer and laid my hand on his arm, nearly smirking when I felt him shiver under my touch. I touch anyone so rarely that this almost always happens. It generally affects those watching as well, though I’m sure it’s only because they’re imagining themselves there instead.

We apparated.

***

I kept my balance when we landed, though I had to lean into Nott to do it. I easily pulled my arm away, putting distance between us.

“Ah, Mr. Potter, welcome.”

I turned, nodding back to Lucius Malfoy. It seemed I’d have to familiarize myself with my name once more.

The quickly covered surprise in Lucius’ eyes was interesting, but I enjoyed it nonetheless.

“Thank you, Mr. Malfoy,” I responded, just as articulate as Lucius had been.

“Shall I show you to the ballroom?” he asked. “Perhaps a more accommodating route than the last time you were here.”

“Please, Mr. Malfoy,” I told him, stepping farther away from Nott with nary a glance. See, I could be polite when I wanted to be.

“You’re wanted in the meeting room, Nott,” Lucius told the man behind me. “Immediately.”

“Of course.”

I didn’t even turn to watch him go.

“I do hope he wasn’t too unbearable,” Lucius said as we began moving. “Nott never did like you much. Then again, he never liked anyone with more power than he had.”

I laughed, I couldn’t help it; it was a dark, sarcastic laugh, but it was one nonetheless, and it got me another surprised look from Lucius. “Oh, I’m positive he’d have been wonderful, had I been willing to … accommodate him.”

Lucius glanced at me and raised an eyebrow, but I didn’t elaborate.

“Har- Mr. Potter.” Amazingly, he actually sounded as if he’d wanted to say my name. Had he actually been chosen as my ‘friend’? Now I knew things were going to be interesting.

“… oh, Yes, Mr. Malfoy?” It was strange being called that again. For five years, my name has been Raven. I’m not sure I’m ready to be Harry again … Scratch that, I don’t want to be Harry again. Unfortunately, for a while at least, it seemed I wouldn’t have a choice.

“Nothing, Mr. Potter … You were missed.”

I blinked up at him, slightly impressed. He sounded as if he’d missed me. Then again, Lucius Malfoy always was one of the better manipulators. Not completely sure what to say to him, I turned back to face the hall, silent.

Lucius sighed, reaching out a hand to grasp my arm, pulling me to a stop. I instinctively tensed, pulling my arm away. He let me.

“Whatever caused you to choose there to work?”

I raised an eyebrow at him. The truth was, it was the only thing I could have done at the time. I hadn’t planned to be there for this long, but I’d gotten to like it.

“You were there, Mr. Malfoy,” I told him, my voice amused, yet low, holding a seductive quality that would have had any of the club’s customers trembling. “It’s a kind of power. I own them. They know it, and they can’t do anything about it.” I stepped closer, my eyes on him. He blinked. “They will do anything I want them to if I would only deign to … touch them.”

“I would appreciate it, Mr. Potter if you would step back.”

I smirked at him, taking another step forward. We were almost touching. I was teasing him, yes, but I seriously wanted to see if I could push him. Lucius was an opportunist after all.

“Why, Mr. Malfoy? Surely you’re … curious,” I purred.

He grimaced. “No. In fact, it disturbs me to see the young man I considered a second son act in such a way.”

I stumbled back. Shock … that’s what it was. Second son? How the hell could he say that and sound as though he’d meant it? He hated me … probably still does.

So, he wasn’t my friend … he was supposed to be the ‘father’ I’d never had. Well, that was … surprising. I shook my head slightly. It had been awhile since I’d been shocked. Surprised, sure, but not shocked.

“Are you all right, Mr. Potter?”

“Yes,” I replied, straitening my posture.

He looked me over, nodded once, and opened the door to his left.

We entered a large ballroom, brightly lit with soft music playing in the background. Orchestral if I wasn’t mistaken. I couldn’t see them, so I couldn’t actually be sure.

All talking ceased when we entered. They stared at me, their number larger than I’d remembered. I didn’t fidget, the club had gotten me over that quickly enough.

“Harry!” a high, excited voice exclaimed before I was pulled against a soft body, and had a face full of black hair. I tensed and attempted to pull away, but she wouldn’t let me. Her arms tightened around me and she started to sway.

“Harry, Harry, my little Harry,” the woman said, her voice sing-songy and starting to sound very familiar. “I’ve missed you. Was worried I was. How was my ickle Harry? I wondered.”

I knew who was holding me.

“Bellatrix, release him. It will not do any good if you suffocate him.”

She hesitated a moment, but pulled back, pouting, and glaring at Lucius. It was an interesting combination. She didn’t stop touching me. First, her hands brushed down my robes, straightening them out as she did so.

“Look at how you’ve grown up!” she exclaimed. “No more the scrawny boy you were. All grown up, you are.”

When her hands moved to tame my hair, I stepped back, ignoring her crushed look. I’d had enough of being touched.

“He doesn’t remember, Bellatrix,” Rodolphus told her, approaching them.

Her pout intensified. “It’s not fair,” she declared, childishly. I almost expected her to stomp her foot. It was something Christine would have done (Christine was 8 and at the orphanage.).

Lucius cleared his throat. “You were closest to Bellatrix,” he said.

Oh, great, so Bellatrix Lestrange was supposed to be my F-

“Of course we were close,” she said, petulantly. “I’m his mummy.” Then she enveloped me in another hug, as my brain screeched to a halt.

I was actually glad of it because it hid my expression. Which I’m sure was horrified. Bellatrix was supposed to be my maternal figure? Gods all mighty, what was Voldemort thinking? A moment later, I was able to get myself together and pulled away again.

“I was told my parents were dead.” It was crass, I admit, but it was the truth.

“They are,” Bellatrix agreed, readily enough. “But my baby Potter needed a mummy and those nasty blood-traitors-“

I had to bite my tongue to keep from interrupting her.

“-wouldn’t give you one. So, I’m your mummy,” she took hold of my hands. “And I take such good care of you. I fed you, and watered you, and clothed you. I brushed your hair and made it stay down,” One of her hands rose to my head, her fingers playing with it, perhaps trying to get it tamed. “You were my pretty little baby.”

I sounded more like a bloody doll.

“Perhaps, Bellatrix, it would be best if you gave him some space. I hardly think smothering him is going to help him remember anything.”

Wasn’t that the point? If I actually remembered something, the charade would be over.

Bellatrix pouted, but released me, finally.

“Mr. Potter-“

“Always so formal, Lucius,” Bellatrix snapped. “You’ll make him think he isn’t wanted.”

Oh, no worry of that, I thought. Not with the amount of trouble they were going through.

“I hardly think-“

“You call me Bella, Harry,” Bellatrix simpered, grinning at me. “And Rodolphus, my husband. You’ll remember him soon, I know.”

“Harry,” Rodolphus nodded once.

I nodded back, it was only polite.

“Come on,” Bellatrix said, threading her arm through mine and tugged me farther into the ballroom.

I couldn’t help but grimace, gently extracting my arm from hers. She blinked at me, pouting.

“I don’t like to be touched,” I told her, but that only caused her pout to deepen.

“But that never included me before,” she said, sounding upset.

I blinked, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t remember.”

She sighed, then ignored what I’d just said to grab my arm again, dragging me off to meet the death Eaters.

It was sometime later (Though Bellatrix was still steadily dragging me from group to group) that Voldemort arrived. I knew the instant it happened because my scar flared to life. Around the ballroom, conversation died and every eye turned towards the door. Voldemort was there. Just behind him were Nott, Walden Mcnair, and … Evan Rosier. At least, I thought it was Evan. I never really saw him that often.

The three behind the Dark Lord disappeared into the crowd as Voldemort made his way to the throne on the other side of the room. Everyone bowed (or curtsied) as he passed them; everyone but me. I’d never bowed to him before, and I certainly didn’t ‘remember’ doing it.

He noticed, however, and stopped just before me. I think he’d have noticed if I had, anyway. Besides, it would have been more suspicious. That’s what I told myself anyway. I just didn’t want to bow to him. The worst he could do was kill me, and he didn’t seem inclined to do that. Merlin knew why. He looked at me a moment, his eyes flashing amusedly.

“Ah, Harry,” he seemed pleased. “I hope you are enjoying yourself.”

I shrugged. “Not my kind of scene. I’m still waiting for that proof.”

Voldemort smiled, but I wasn’t reassured. “Oh, you’ll get it, Harry, after the party. Enjoy yourself.”

He reached up to brush my hair, but I stepped back out of easy reach. Why the hell didn’t anyone get the fact that I bloody well didn’t want to be touched?

“Enjoy the party, Harry,” he told me, moving along.

I couldn’t relax though, as I suddenly had Bellatrix attached to my arm again.

“He’s always so much more lenient with you,” she said, pouting again.

I almost laughed, almost. Lenient? Yeah, right. Still, I wasn’t supposed to know that. It’s harder to pretend when they’re look at me. My past’s caught up, and I can’t do a bloody thing about it.

“Hmm.” That’s all I can reply with.

Then, she’s dragging me along to the next group. Would anyone be insulted if I told them I was bored? Probably. With my luck, Bellatrix would lecture me or something. That wasn’t on my to-do list so I kept quiet.

******

I found myself happy when I managed to escape Bellatrix, taking the opportunity to slip out onto a balcony for a breath of fresh air. A brief thought of escaping crossed my mind, but then I noticed how high I was, and decided against it. Broken bones was not worth getting out of here, especially when I doubted Voldemort would believe I’d been pushed.

“Little lost kittens shouldn’t wander off after just being found.”

I jumped, whirling around to catch sight of Evan Rosier, who leaned against the wall next to the door. I hadn’t even heard him. I blinked at him, silently, before raising an eyebrow.

“Kitten?” I drawled, unimpressed. “An interesting choice of phrase. From my experience, cats come and go as they please. Nor do they get ‘lost’.”

Evan’s eyes lit up. To hide my unease, I leaned back against the balcony’s railing, eying him silently. The little involvement I’d had with Evan had never made me very comfortable with him. Of course, that might have had something to do with the stories I’d heard about him from Order members.

“Oh, but they do,” Evan responded, smirking at me. “That’s why muggles have begun to chip them, to find them should they run away.”

I shrugged. “If they really want to get away, they wont be found so easily.”

Evan shrugged, still looking amused. “It may take years, but they’re found. Once heard a tale of a missing dog found 2 years after it had disappeared, nearly 200 miles away from home.”

I blinked, feeling a frown pull on my lips. “Yes, but if it wanted to, it could just run again,” I told him, causing him to tilt his head at me. I crossed my arms in front of me. “Those chips only work if the cat, or dog, is actually found by someone, and reported. Should someone not think to check, or the animal doesn’t let itself be found, then it will never be found, and never returned.”

I was surprised when Evan laughed, throwing his head back.

“Perhaps they can,” he said, finally. “But if they have a truly persistent master, they wont be gone for long, no matter how much they may wish to be so.”

I blinked at him. This was beginning to sound rather … odd, and not at all comforting. “Some pets are smarter than their masters give them credit for.”

Evan continued to grin. “That they are, if they are able to hide for five years. Come kitten, they’ll be looking for you soon.”

My eyes narrowed, my liking of Evan had just plummeted. “I find myself not caring. The party is petty and boring. If they want to continue on to the second reason I’m here, then I’ll return. Until then, I’m more than content to remain where I am.”

Evan’s head tilted once more, eying me carefully. Damn him, he still looked amused. “I’ll inform the master then,” he said, returning back through the curtained doorway.

I shook my head. This was just great, now Rosier was referring to me as a pet, and Voldemort my master. This was just bloody wonderful.

I sighed, turning back to face the grounds with a shake of my head. It was just for a while, I reminded myself, just until I wasn’t watched so closely. As soon as that happened I’d be away once again.

Without really thinking, I grabbed hold of the railing and pulled back and down, letting my arms pull upwards. I only stopped when I heard my back pop, and let out a soft moan before rising back to my feet.

“Quite a kitten, to stretch so comfortably,” I heard, Evan’s voice coming from the doorway.

“This kitten has claws he’s not afraid to use,” I replied, evenly as I turned, blinking when I saw Voldemort.

He raised an eyebrow at me, looking amused. Great, just what I didn’t want, an amused Dark Lord … well, I suppose it’s better than an annoyed or angry one.

“Come, Harry,” Voldemort said. “You’ve been wanting that proof, haven’t you?”

“Of course,” I drawled.

“Let’s go then,” he replied, holding out his hand.

I eyed him a moment before crossing the short distance. I didn’t take his hand.

“My pain tolerance might be high,” I told him, arms crossed, “but that doesn’t mean I’ll willingly put my hand on a burning stove.”

“Ah, yes,” Voldemort said, taking back his hand. “I’ll have to have Severus begin brewing your potion again.”

I blinked at him. “What potion?” It was no shock that actual surprise and suspicion filtered through in my voice.

“The one that mutes the pain of course,” Voldemort said. “I’m afraid he’s yet to name it.”

Because there is no such thing, my mind snapped.

“But it does lessen the pain, or so you’ve said. It will work until you begin to trust me again.”

I frowned again. “Trust you?”

Not in this lifetime.

Voldemort nodded and I wondered why the hell he was being so patient with me. There was something I was missing, I just knew it.

“The pain you feel is the lingering of protection I … lessened. You do not trust me, yet, so it views me as a danger and tells you to get away in the only way it can. As you grow to trust me, it will lessen.”

I blinked, wondering if he’d just made that up, or if it was true … either way, it was going to be hard, because until I ‘trusted’ him, I’d still hurt. And until that time, I doubt that Voldemort’d let me go anywhere without ‘supervision’.

“Nice try, but it isn’t just you I don’t trust.”

Voldemort chuckled, which creeped me out. I’d never heard him chuckle before. Laugh maniacally sure, but not chuckle. It was … odd.

“They are not connected as we are,” he answered. “Your protection only works with me, or against me as the case seems to be. Now, come Harry, I believe you’ve waited long enough to learn who you are.”

He held a hand out towards the door, waiting. It took me a moment to realize he wanted me to go first. Suppressing a sigh, I did so. Voldemort took the lead once he and Evan were in the ballroom. I silently followed them through the crowd and felt the eyes on me. For the first time in nearly five years, I found it difficult to stay Raven. Their stares made me uncomfortable. Thankfully, I was able to keep from fidgeting, managing to at least look as though I was ignoring them.

I remained silent as they led me out of the ballroom, mentally breathing a sigh of relief. None of us said a word the short time it took for Voldemort to lead us to a smaller room. No sooner was I inside then I was attacked … well, not really, but Bellatrix had hold of my arm. Fortunately (for her), even I considered it rude to shake my arm around until she slipped off.

“You shouldn’t wander off like that,” Bellatrix said with a disproving frown … wait, was I getting lectured? “You’d get lost in the mansion. You don’t remember your way around. So you should be careful and stick with me.”

I think I was … which was odd in and off itself, but the fact that it was Bellatrix just made it stranger. Across the room, Evan laughed.

“Oh, no, I think the kitten’s a solo hunter, Bella.”

Bellatrix glared at him. “I think I know my baby.”

“I would like to point out that I am neither child, nor baby,” I drawled, looking none-to-pleased with the turn of discussion.

“Of course you aren’t,” Bella cooed, causing me to blink at her. She didn’t hear a word I said, I’m sure.

“Come now, Bellatrix, release him. We do need to continue.”

Glancing over to the side, I saw that it was Lucius that had spoken. He was leaning against the fireplace, drink in hand. He nodded to me once, but I didn’t have time to nod back as Bellatrix yanked me over to the couch.

“Severus will be here momentarily and you’ll have your proof, Harry,” Voldemort told me, leaning back in a chair.

I raised an eyebrow. Were they going to feed me a potion? Why? As far as I knew, there wasn’t one to cause the return of someone’s memory. If there were, wouldn’t Lockhart have gotten his memory back? Still, this made me wonder just what the hell they had as proof.

“So, what, you’ve got pictures or something?” I asked, extracting my arm form Bellatrix so I could lay it over my crossed legs, my other resting along the back of the couch.

“We have a few,” Voldemort replied, easily. “Though most of our proof will be made by you.”

I blinked, frowning “Really. And just how do you plan on doing that?”

I winced, jerking to the side as Bellatrix smacked me upside the head.

“Show our lord the proper respect.”

I blinked at her, my expression cooling dramatically. “Your lord, perhaps,” I replied. “I have no lord, nor do I plan on gaining one.”

Bellatrix immediately looked angry, but before she could respond, Voldemort interrupted her.

“Hush, Bellatrix.”

She bowed her head. “Yes, my lord.”

I blinked. Wonder how long Voldemort could stay so lenient before he just crucio’d me for impertinence.

The door opened.

I sat back, twisting my head to glance back to the door.

“My lord,” the figure said, allowing me to identify him immediately. There was no mistaking Snape’s voice. “My apologies, the potion gave me some trouble.”

Voldemort nodded, waving the man in. “Severus, you remember Harry.”

Snape looked at me as he entered farther and nodded. “Of course, my lord.”

“Severus was a teacher of yours for several years.”

I gave him a nod.

“Mr. Potter.” He handed me a vial, which I took.

“And what is this for?” I asked, eyes on Snape.

“It will bring back some of your memories.” It was Voldemort that answered, forcibly drawing my attention once more. “Not all of them, but it is meant to start the process.”

I blinked at him. Well, that can’t be right. If it was supposed to return my memory, that would be bad for them. So, whatever this was, it wasn’t going to return my memory. After a moment, I held up the bottle, gazing at the blue liquid.

“For all I know, it could be poison. I’ve no reason to trust you, after all.”

Voldemort raised an eyebrow. “If I had wanted to kill you, Harry, I would have already done so.”

… That I believed. So, with a mental shrug, I uncorked the vial and downed it with a grimace.

“Uhg!” I’d forgotten how horrible they tasted.

Snape raised an eyebrow at me, but said nothing. A moment later, my vision grew blurry, and I felt myself falling backwards.

Fuck.

*******

Harry’s spine straightened when he felt something smack it. “Ow!”

“Perhaps, Harry, you will remember your posture now?”

He grimaced. “Sorry, Mr. Malfoy.”

Lucius nodded. “Keep your back straight, Harry. Now, how would you greet me?”

Harry gave a mental sigh, but gave a smile, however small. It was still polite. “Ah, Mr. Malfoy, a pleasure. How have you been?”

At least, that was what he’d been taught.

Lucius shook his head. “No, Harry. That’s a very muggle way of going about it.”

Harry frowned. “Well, what’s wrong with it? It’s very polite.”

“But it’s not the wizard way. In fact, that’s considered rude, Harry.”

He blinked, his frown deepening. “It is? How?”

“To inquire after someone’s business without them offering to give you the information, is rude, Harry.”

“Oh. Why?”

Lucius sighed. “It dates back before Merlin’s time.”

------

“No, no, no, not like that.”

Harry glanced up with a sheepish smile. “Sorry, Bella.”

She shook her head, giggling lightly before pulling him into her arms. “See, it’s like this.”

She put on of his hands on her waist, and taking the other one in her hand. “Ready?”

“Er … no?” he asked, smiling. Then, before she could say anything. “Okay, alright. Let’s see. It was … back, right?”

Bella nodded, eyes shining at him. Harry grinned at her before stepping back, pulling Bella with him. She hmm’ed approvingly as he led her to the side.

------

Harry twirled a knife in his fingers, silently gazing out across the grounds. His eyes were quiet, cold, angery. He winced slightly when the blade cut into his hand, drawing his gaze down to the cut, silently watching as the blood seeped out. It wasn’t a major wound, so he didn’t need to worry about getting it healed, but the sight of his blood was captivating.

“I answer the question, 'Death, where is thy sting?' with here in my heart and mind and memories.”

Harry twitched, but that was the only sign he gave that he heard.

“Has the kitten’s claws been clipped? Is that the reason he does not respond?”

“Not clipped,” Harry responded, quietly, coldly.

Evan stepped into view, his head tilted to the side, watching him thoughtfully. “I see a plan forming in your head. What is it?”

Harry shook his head, not answering. Nor did his gaze shift over to the man next to him.

“How does it feel, to lose them?” Evan asked, actually sounding curious.

“The same as losing anyone else.”

“But I’ve never lost anyone,” Evan told him, eyes shining. “Never anyone I cared for. Tell me how it feels.”

“Perhaps you should care for someone, and when you lose them, you will learn it for yourself. It’s a better experience than being told about it.”

Evan grinned at him. “I’m not capable of it,” he said.

Harry shrugged. “Not my problem, is it?”

“Well?” Evan asked, stepping closer. “How does it feel to know that the man you once trusted killed the ones you held dear?”

“I’m gonna make him pay,” Harry said, finally. “I’m gonna kill Dumbledore, and I’m going to let him know that I’m doing it because he killed them.”

“Oh? And how are you going to do that? Lord Voldemort has yet to tell us who has gotten that mission.”

“He’ll give it to me,” Harry said, turning away.

------

Harry was being thoroughly snogged, his back pressed back against the wall. His arms were wrapped around his partner’s neck, pressing closer to the body in front of him. When they finally separated, Harry breathed heavily, gazing up into the red eyes of his lover.

“You seem more excited tonight, Harry,” he breathed, his hands sliding to rest on Harry’s hips.

Harry smirked up at him. “You don’t seem disappointed with that,” he responded, his hands sliding down Voldemort’s chest, unbuttoning the man’s shirt as he did so.

Voldemort grinned at him. “Of course not,” he replied, slipping his hands under Harry’s shirt.

His eyes flickered closed, head tilting back.

“I do so love your reactions, Harry,” Voldemort murmured before leaning down to catch the younger man’s lips.

Harry moaned into the kiss as his lover brushed his thumb over his nipple.

***

The first thing he noticed when he came around was the hand stroking his hair. For several minutes, he remained still and silent, eyes closed.

“When will he come around, Severus?” that was Voldemort. His voice was another unmistakable one, even with his impatience.

“As soon as the ‘memories’ have finished playing out, my lord. It is impossible to determine how long that will be.”

“Look at him sleeping. So cute, my baby Potter,” Bella said from somewhere above me. She must be the one with the hand in my hair then. Surprisingly, I didn’t mind. It was comforting. And that in itself made me uneasy.

Silence met that, and I decided it was time to wake up. Taking a deep breath, I shifted.

“He’s waking,” that was Lucius.

“That’s my baby,” Bellatrix cooed. “Come back to Mummy now.” Her voice was soft and encouraging, though it still held the same insane quality that made her, her. It did make me wonder just how seriously she was taking her role.

It was, admittedly, a little disconcerting. Just what was Voldemort thinking when he assigned her as my maternal figure? Then again … I really hope he isn’t planning on bringing that last memory to light. I do not want to sleep with the dark lord.

Repressing a sigh, I let my eyes flutter open. The first thing I saw was Bellatrix’s delighted eyes.

“Morning Harry, enjoy your sleep?” she asked.

“… It was … enlightening …” I answered before sitting up. Thankfully, Bellatrix let me.

My eyes flickered around the room, landing briefly on Evan, who was grinning like he knew a secret, before moving on. The last person I looked at was Voldemort, and I didn’t really want to look at him then, either. That last memory was … disconcerting.

He raised an eyebrow at me. “Well?”

“The images were jumbled,” I told him, calmly.

Liar.

“I’m afraid I need some time to sort them out.”

“Very well, I’ll-“

“I would like to return home now.”

Voldemort blinked at me, irritation flashing through his eyes. He was silent for a long while.

“Very well, Harry, however, you must realize that you are not safe there by yourself.”

“I don’t want Nott in my home again,” I told him, point blank. “We don’t get along, and I don’t want him near me.”

Voldemort blinked at me, looking surprised. It made me wonder just what Nott had told the Dark Lord. He nodded again, looking less than happy. Perhaps Nott was going to get in trouble. Goody.

“All right. Is there someone you’d prefer?”

I gave him a look; I couldn’t help it even as I wondered at the fact that he was letting me choose.

“I don’t know anybody,” I told him dryly. “Except now, I’ve got random images for everyone in this room.”

“Very well, Evan will accompany you,”

I blinked. What the hell? Evan Rosier? In my apartment?

“Might as well,” I said, finally. It was better than Bellatrix, I suppose. And I had no doubt that she’d be Voldemort’s second choice. Besides, Evan hadn’t tried to touch me … yet.

“Excellent.” Voldemort grinned at me, looking as if all his plans were coming together. And they might well have been, because I had absolutely no idea just what he was hoping to get out of this.

I stood, then frowned. “Hey …” Damn, had I been told his name yet? Had I even asked? I couldn’t remember … then again … I had just had the ‘memories’ shoved into my head. “Voldemort, isn’t it?”

Voldemort looked pleased, perhaps I hadn’t been told then?

“Yes, Harry?” he asked, standing as well.

“… Dumbledore.”

Voldemort’s eyes narrowed.

“Who did he kill?”

“What?” Voldemort demanded.

“One … one of the memories, I suppose. Someone called Dumbledore, I believe it was, killed someone. Someone … special, it seemed. Who was it?” I had a very nasty thought as to who it was, but I wanted confirmation.

“Ah, yes. Friends of yours, Harry,” he said. “They joined us when you did. Dumbledore killed them when he had the chance.”

“Yeah, great. Who were they?” I snapped impatiently.

“Watch your tone, Harry,” Voldemort told me, tone warning. “There is only so much I will forgive even you.”

I felt my lips pull down into a frown and gave a short nod. “Apologies. Who were they?” My impatience was still there, but this time I wasn’t snapping.

“Better, Harry. Their names were Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger; two very talented Wizards. They were a boon to our work.”

I nodded, slightly in thanks.

--

(1) I answer the question, 'Death, where is thy sting?' with here in my heart and mind and memories.
Maya Angelou

This is my longest chapter to date, and will probably remain so for the near future. It is 16 pages long and over 5000 words. Actually, it was 2 chapters meshed together. I was, originally, going to wait and Evan and the proof in the next chapter, but decided against it. That, and my muse was on a roll. So, lucky you, that means an extra long chapter. ^_^

So, what do you think of my Evan Rosier? Originally, I’d wanted to base him after another version of him I’d read, but couldn’t get him to work, so I’d changed it. This one comes a lot easier to my mind and I don’t spend 20 minutes just trying to figure out what he’s going to say next. >.<

Also, to clear up any misunderstandings, the Nott that accompanied Harry to the Orphanage was Theodore Nott. He’s the guy that went to school with Harry. Not his father. Nott Sr. is somewhere else currently. Not sure where yet.

Also, does anyone want an appearance of Draco?

Allanasha Ke Kiri