Butterfly 35 - LM/HP
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Hey all, for a one shot I’m planning I need a male Death Eater that would have been in Azkaban until 1994 at least. I can’t decide on one, so you pick.
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Words: 2,275
Chapter 35
January 2nd 1994. Hogwarts Express.
The compartment was cold, and icicles were forming along the edges of the windows. Harry pushed himself out of his seat. Draco followed his lead, his wand held out threateningly as the door to their train compartment slid open. It was the lady who pushed the sweet trolley, and she smiled widely at the four of them before exclaiming, “We’re here, boys, time to get off the train.”
Theodore glanced around uneasily. Terrance peeked through the window, wiping away the condensation and the ice with the sleeve of his robe. “I could have sworn,” Draco began, mumbling angrily as he tucked his wand away.
“Keep it out,” Harry ordered, his own wand falling easily into his grasp. They pulled their luggage down from the racks, and left them piled on the floor once they had stepped off of the train. The cold settled over them again, making all four boys shiver. Around them, other students trembled and their teeth chattered, and Harry sighed loudly as he spotted the cause of the extremely chilly weather.
There was snow on the ground, crunching beneath their feet, and falling from the trees, and there were icicles hanging from the roof of the Hogwarts Express, but the mist and the chill that permeated the bones of every student present was a result of the Dementors. There were a group of them, clustered at the entrance to Hogsmeade, and as each Thestral-drawn carriage made its way from the train to Hogwarts it had to pass by the waiting creatures.
Harry chose to travel alone, insisting his friends get into a compartment before him and then standing back as it began moving without him. He caught the next empty one, scaring away the first years that tried to follow him inside. It was for their benefit after all, Harry told himself, watching the Dementors nervously as they grew closer to him. As he passed them by, the carriage jerked wildly, as the Dementors swarmed over the Thestrals, shoving them out of the way so that they could glide closer to Harry. The teenager sat still and silent, eyeing the creatures warily, glancing at the clawed hands that pulled at his hair and his face and clothing.
“Ours.” They groaned together. “Death. Ours. Us.”
The deluminator Voldemort had sent him for Yule was in his cloak pocket, but Harry let it be. It would have warded the Dementors away for a few minutes, but Harry didn’t want them to leave. He wanted to see what would happen; would it be like the last time, where they merely tried to touch him, or would they go further this time, attempt to kiss him perhaps or take him with them?
One hand pawed at Harry’s scar, ruffling the hair that covered it. It drew away with a scream, a doe Patronus butting angrily at its side, herding the creature and its brothers away from Harry. The dark haired boy glanced up. Professor Snape had apparated onto the train station, which was outside of the anti-apparation wards, and cast the Patronus a second time. He cast something at the Thestrals, and Harry gasped as they began to run. He glanced over his shoulder at the cluster of Dementors that stared after him but didn’t dare to follow. He could still feel their bony fingers on his skin, their cold breath on his face, but he wasn’t afraid. They hadn’t been planning to hurt him, Harry knew. And he also knew that he was right. The Dementors could sense he was a Horcrux.
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January 6th 1994.
“Harry,” Remus called as the boy was about to slip out of the Defence classroom.
Harry looked up from the piece of parchment he had been reading and stopped walking. He turned back to face his professor and smiled softly, “yes?”
“Stay behind for a moment, please, Harry.” Remus turned to talk to another student and Harry glanced back down at the dot that marked ‘Lucius Malfoy’ wandering the halls of Hogwarts.
“Mischief managed,” he murmured, tucking the map into his trouser pocket out of sight. “What is it you wanted, professor?” Harry asked once they were alone.
“I heard about the situation with the Dementors. They’re behaviour is starting to become worrying, Harry. I spoke briefly with the Headmaster and he believes, as do I, that something must be done to protect you, or,” he paused and ran a hand nervously through his hair, “to enable you to protect yourself.”
“What do you mean?” Harry asked curiously. He wasn’t in danger from the Dementors, though he didn’t feel like explaining why that was, so he widened his eyes and tried to appear afraid. Like they all thought he was supposed to be.
“How would you feel about extra lessons? I was thinking perhaps every Thursday after class, and I would teach you the Patronus Charm. It repels Dementors. You probably saw professor Snape using it, didn’t you?” Remus smiled warmly, pleased at the opportunity to spend more time with the boy who seemed so unwilling to spend time with James Potter’s friend.
“I saw. It appeared to be a rather handy spell to have in one’s repertoire. I accept your offer, professor Lupin. See you this Thursday.” He smiled and nodded once, before turning away from the werewolf.
He tried not to think about the man as much as possible, but Hermione was still continuing on with her assumption that because Remus was a werewolf someone must be notified. Obviously Dumbledore knew he was a werewolf, the man had been a student here as a werewolf too, and it was sort of hard to hide his disappearing act three nights a week once a month after all. But Hermione wouldn’t be persuaded, and so Harry had taken to avoiding her again. He pulled the map out of his pocket again and whispered, “I solemnly swear I am up to no good,” and grinned widely as ‘Lucius Malfoy’ continued to pace the hall.
Harry took off in the direction of the Slytherin common room, hoping to intercept Lucius’ visit to his son. He hoped to perhaps convince the man that snogging in an unused classroom would be more prudent than whatever business he had at Hogwarts was. A wide smile crossed his lips, because if Lucius was heading away from the Headmaster’s office he must have already finished his duties and would have no other reason to refuse to abscond with Harry for a few minutes-or slightly more, if Harry could keep the blonde sufficiently distracted for that long.
Which he could, he told himself, tucking the map away just as Lucius came into sight.
“Harry!” The man gasped, surprised to see him appear so suddenly around the corner.
“Hello, Lucius.” Harry whispered, reaching out to grab the man’s hand.
“Hello, beloved,” Lucius answered, pulling Harry in for a kiss.
XXX
January 15th 1994. Quidditch Pitch.
The Dementors had terrible timing, Harry thought angrily to himself as they appeared over the Quidditch pitch, circling the area like strange, malignant storm clouds. The Slytherins and Ravenclaws on the Quidditch teams shuddered, each of them angling their brooms closer to the ground, forgetting about the game in an attempt to escape the Dementors’ notice.
They came lower without warning, circling Harry. They reached out to him, almost pulling him off of his broom at one point, before Harry managed to right himself in time to save himself from a terrible, horrible fall.
“Come.” One whispered.
“Summoned to the Ministry.”
“Sirius Black summons Ours.”
They hissed around him, sibilant and hoarse sounding and Harry thought that this change in their demeanour compared to how they were when he had first encountered them on the train meant they were excited. They had found someone like them, someone who revelled in death and the tearing of a soul by all appearances, and they were excited by that fact.
“I will come to the Ministry. When should I come?” Harry questioned, even as his eyes darted around for the Snitch.
“Now. Come now, Ours.” One Dementor grabbed his arm tightly and pulled. Harry slipped off of his broom, but another Dementor was there, gripping his other arm and keeping the teenager suspended a hundred feet in the air.
Harry swallowed heavily, glancing down at his falling broom and the clouds that mostly blocked him from view. “Don’t drop me.”
“One of Us. Ours.” They hissed at him. “Never.” They held him tightly, all of them circling him just in case their brothers’ grip slipped and they would be close enough to catch and hold the boy. They would bring him to the Ministry safe, because he called to them, to something deep within them. Something dark stirred within them at this boys’ presence, and each of them thought back to the last war and to the Dark Lord that had commanded them fearlessly and who they had followed with pride. “Ours,” they hissed again, talking about the Dark Lord this time, but Harry didn’t know that. He glanced at them and nodded in agreement, still thinking (and being partially right) that they meant his Horcrux.
The Firebolt fell, and purely by instinct Draco reached out and caught the falling object as it passed him by. The broom impacting against his hand made it ache, but his chest hurt more when he realized that it was Harry’s broom and that Harry hadn’t followed it out of the sky. He was worried, as were the rest of the Quidditch players so all appeared to have forgotten about the match, and Draco glanced down at the stand, at the vague shape that was his father and his godfather and the Polyjuiced figure of Evan Rosier and he hoped that Harry was ok. But then the Snitch fluttered in front of his face, almost daring him to let it pass by.
And because he was a Slytherin first and foremost, Draco let go of his own broom and caught the golden Snitch.
Slytherin won, 200 to 120.
XXX
February 3rd 1994. Gryffindor Tower.
The third year boys had gathered around the bed of Seamus Finnegan. His dad was a Muggle, but his mother worked in the Ministry law division. She had spent a lot of time with Harry lately, Seamus told his dorm mates. And contrary to popular belief and even what the papers were saying, Harry hadn’t actually met Sirius yet. He went to the Ministry a lot, but Seamus’ mum had told him that sometimes the Dementors just brought him because they could. Sometimes no one had even asked to see Harry, but he would appear, with a flock of Dementors around him, and spend the rest of his even being question and checked by medi-Wizards and briefed on the eventual trial of Sirius Black.
“That’s a bit strange, isn’t it?” Dean Thomas, a Muggleborn, asked.
“Yeah but you’ve all seen the weird way those creatures are around Potter. It’s almost like they like him, you know!” Ron muttered. He had never quiet given up on being Harry’s friend, because Harry was famous and rich and handsome and overall a nice guy, whereas Ron was just average and poor and unnoticeable. Being Harry’s friend brought fame and attention and Ron wanted nothing more in life than to be better and more successful than his elder brothers. And what would be the easiest way to do that, than by riding on the coattails of the Boy-Who-Lived. But Harry didn’t seem to think they’d make a good team, preferring those no good Death Eater brats to him, and that blasted annoying Granger girl too. “I bet those Slytherins had something to do with it,” Ron hissed.
“What?” Neville gasped. He was a quiet boy, and the rest of his dorm mates tended to forget he was even in the room until he spoke. “How is it their fault?”
“I don’t know! But it is!” Ron told them unintelligently.
“Anyway!” Seamus butted in, steering the attention back onto himself. “They’ve finally released Black on parole. Someone paid his bail, and well Mum wasn’t sure who but there are rumours in the Ministry that it was Malfoy. That’s why he was here last month, to talk to the Headmaster about Black visiting Potter. According to mum they’ve scheduled a visit for the fifth.”
“That’s two days away!” Dean exclaimed, looking worried.
“Good thing he isn’t in Gryffindor, huh? Black doesn’t have a reason to come here, does he?” Neville question, his voice and hands shaking.
“Nah course he doesn’t. What would Black want in the Gryffindor Tower when Potter is on the other side of the castle?” Ron gave an inelegant snort at the idea of the infamous Black getting lost in Hogwarts and ending up at their dorm. He shared his mental imagery with his friends, and the others giggled and laughed along with him. But unknown to them all, Scabbers the rat used the paw with one finger missing to push open the door of his cage. The rat jumped onto the bedding, and then slid down onto the floor, and then scarpered. The four Gryffindors never noticed Ron’s pet rat escape the room.
In the Ravenclaw common room, Harry glanced down at his map, examining which names were moving where and who with. His eyebrows drew together as a name he had never seen before appeared on the map, in the third year Gryffindor boys’ dormitory of all places, before leaving the Tower and heading outside. Once the dot reached the edge of the Forbidden Forest, ‘Peter Pettigrew’ disappeared off the map.1
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1 - I’m going with the idea of since the map in canon never picked up the names of pets or the Basilisk (since I’m sure the Twins might have mentioned that) that it doesn’t read animals or animagi if they act like animals. So, Trevor being a real toad wouldn’t be noticed. But Peter, as a human, would have to stay inside of a real pet’s cage, which would probably be charmed to refill food and regulate temperature. Leaving the cage reveals his own magic to the magic of the map (if that makes any sense). Also, Peter has never been mentioned by name, so Harry has no idea who he is.
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Thanks for reading. It’s terribly short, but I really don’t have the motivation to do anything lately, though there isn’t much left of year 3. I’m stressing over the Thesis I haven’t even started yet sigh!!! FML I have less than 7 weeks to research and write 15k words. Why do I procrastinate so hard?
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Chapter 36
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