Chapter Sixty of 'Wolf's Choice'- Harbingers
Chapter Fifty-Nine.
Title: Wolf’s Choice (60/60)
Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling and associates own these characters. I am writing this story for fun and not profit.
Pairing: Main story is gen, a few GoF canon pairings mentioned
Content Notes: AU of GoF, angst, gore, violence, torture, present tense, minor character death
Rating: PG-13
Summary: AU of GoF. Harry begins his summer with horrific visions that come true much faster than he was expecting. He’ll have to rely on his circle of friends, both his guardians, and all his allies to cope with the results.
Author’s Notes: This is a long fic that is a sequel to my fic Other People’s Choices. Make sure you read that first before you start this one.
Thank you again for all the reviews! This is the last chapter of Wolf’s Choice. I’ll be posting the first chapter of the sequel, Leopard’s Choice, next week.
Chapter Sixty-Harbingers
My dear son, of course I am glad to send you the books that you’ve requested of me, and I hope that you have a good summer at Harry Potter’s house…
No matter how much Tarquinius tries to slow his hand down, it insists on writing those words, and then his body insists on taking the parchment to the Owlery and watching with a languid smile on his face as the bird flies off. And then he turns and goes down to the dining room and eats a nourishing meal of porridge and fruit.
Not even his meals are his own to choose, with Lyassa in control of his body.
He has ceased to test his will directly against hers. It never works. What he can do is make sure that, if he finds a crack in her control, he never thinks of it directly and only lets the flickering edge of his thoughts brush against it. If he thinks about it or reacts directly, then he’ll have to tell her about it, and there will go any chance of his rebellion or his revenge.
He thinks he has found one.
He makes his way to his bed and lies down. His thoughts darken quickly. Lyassa never leaves him awake for too long, apparently because she thinks he’ll use the time to plot against her and Potter. She’s accurate in that.
But Tarquinius can still move a hand as her power sends him to sleep, and he lets his fingers brush the edge of the Dark Mark on his left arm, imitating the flicker of his thoughts.
The Dark Mark throbs, and a long hiss seems to crawl through his mind. If it has words to it, Tarquinius can’t sense them, not that he has ever been gifted in Parseltongue. Or ever wants to hear it again, after what happened with the Speakers.
But for the chance of getting some revenge on both Lyassa and his son, and Potter with them, Tarquinius can put up with much.
He has to go to sleep now, but he’s sure his drifting thoughts, playing with the image of the Dark Mark and what he owes his Lord, will sooner or later attract that Lord’s attention.
*
Sirius sits at the table that Narcissa insisted be placed in the drawing room at Grimmauld; she doesn’t think the kitchen is an impressive enough meeting place. Staring at him from across the table are people he hoped never to associate with again, members of families who used to visit his parents when he was young.
“I know all about you,” Adele Greengrass begins, her voice lowered and her voice harsh and skeptical. For all that she’s portrayed an image of a sweet and caring woman to most of the rest of wizarding society, who regularly spends time volunteering her Healing skills at St. Mungo’s and has adopted two magical orphans from the first war, Sirius knows who she really is. It’s hard to forget seeing someone decapitate a house-elf in front of you. “Sirius Black. Who got disowned by his parents and ran away from them rather than stand up to a little discipline. Who spent years in Azkaban because he wasn’t man enough to push for a trial. Who left his godson alone because of his misguided desire for revenge.”
Sirius holds his breath and then expels it hard to get rid of the temptation to reply. Adele is aunt to the two Greengrass girls who are Harry’s friends. Sirius wants Harry to be able to hold on to that friendship. He meets Greengrass’s hard violet eyes and says, “Yes, I am all that. And I’m tired of being that.”
“Then you’re going to stop standing as godfather of the Boy-Who-Lived?” asks Milton Nott, a third cousin to Tarquinius.
“No,” Sirius says shortly, catching Narcissa’s eye across the table. He wants to shout out to her that this isn’t working, even as he knew it wouldn’t, but she simply gazes calmly back at him, and he knows he can’t. She went to a lot of trouble to make sure all these people were here, after all. Sirius expels his breath again and faces Nott. “I’m ready to stop being a poor godfather.”
“What is that thing?”
The last person sitting across from Sirius is the oldest. Hecuba Selwyn is a tiny dark-skinned woman with her grey hair in a twisted knot on the top of her head. As long as Sirius has known her-as long as she visited Orion and Walburga-she’s looked like that, and she’s terrified the piss out of him.
Sirius meets her gaze and reminds himself again that this is for Harry, and the way that they’ll help him to battle Voldemort. “It’s a mirror. I wanted to show you that I might not be the same kind of person you are, but I’m willing to use any method to help my godson and make sure that people have some choice in our world. That includes Dark wizards.”
“A mirror is going to prove that to us?”
Selwyn’s voice is sharp, and she has sat a little back from the table. Then she probably does suspect what it is. Sirius nods and picks up the mirror. It’s concave and tiny, with an ebony frame carved with patterns of fire and twining branches. The silvery surface would probably look normal until someone actually came over to look into it.
“Show my soul,” Sirius says softly, staring into the mirror.
There’s loud gasps from Greengrass and Nott. Sirius ignores them, still staring into the mirror, where the image of his face is already blurring.
The inside of the mirror seems to twist, rotating around an invisible axis. Then it blazes silver, and Sirius nods and turns the mirror so that both Greengrass and Nott can see into it. Selwyn is still sitting backwards, but after a long moment when Sirius is wondering if he’s insulted her too badly to get her back, she leans in so she can see, too.
They stare as the mirror turns completely dark, but with a faint ripple inside it, as if it’s reflecting a pool of dark water. Then there are faint lights appearing. Sirius makes sure to sit still and keep his face calm. It reacted that way when he tested the mirror by himself, too, but it’s always good to know that the same reaction will happen with others.
“How does a starry sky represent your soul?” asks Greengrass.
Selwyn is the one who answers, speaking sharply enough that Sirius thinks he might be the only one who notices the narrow-eyed glance she gives him. “The amount of darkness and light in balance represent the balance of the person’s emotions.”
“So not the soul.” Nott links his hands together in front of him, his shaggy dark hair falling in his eyes as he narrows them at Sirius.
“This says to me that Mr. Black’s emotions are still overwhelmingly pushed into the negative.” Selwyn waves a hand at the mirror without taking her eyes off Sirius. “That he would still try to take revenge before justice.”
Sirius smiles at her, hoping it does look more like a smile than the baring of teeth it feels like in his Animagus form. “You spend twelve years in Azkaban, and see how cheerful and optimistic you are.”
“It was not a criticism.” Selwyn chuckles, which makes Sirius hope that she can’t sense his fear. “Well, Mr. Black. I had thought you were so much dedicated to Dumbledore’s cause that you would fight as part of the Order of the Phoenix again.”
“I don’t know that there’s going to be an Order of the Phoenix this time.” Sirius rolls and settles his shoulders. This is going better than he thought it would. He doesn’t glance over at Narcissa, who will be smug if he does. “But even if there is, yeah, I would rather fight on my own side. My godson’s side.”
“That’s the other part that has to be settled, though.” Greengrass looks up from the mirror and back to him. “How can Dark wizards and witches fight on the side of someone who wants to eliminate them?”
“You think Harry wants that?”
“Well, of course. He’s the Boy-Who-Lived.”
“And his best friends include a Muggleborn and a Weasley, but also a Nott and a Zabini.” Sirius thinks it would sound more impressive to say “and a Malfoy,” but he doesn’t know the status of Harry and Draco’s friendship right now, and he doesn’t want to depend on Draco for help he might not want to give. He gives the Nott at his table a little glance. “Your young relative, Milton. Theo.”
“I don’t know why he would ally with him, or why you are embracing such an alliance, when allying with Tarquinius makes more sense. He’s the more powerful one.”
“And he’s a Death Eater who intended to kill his own son. Who did kill his wife.” Sirius lets the shock wave run around the room, and then leans forwards. “Make no mistake. Harry doesn’t want to kill the lot of you. He’s interested in reconciliation and co-existence. But he’ll have to kill Voldemort.”
That gets flinches from Greengrass and Nott, but Selwyn just peers at him. “And you’re sure that he can?”
“He survived his first fight with the bastard-the first two, if you want to talk about the one at Godric’s Hollow.” Sirius doesn’t think more than rumors about Harry’s fights with Quirrell or the basilisk have floated around outside Hogwarts, and he’ll keep it that way for now.
“Because a dragon sacrificed herself for him. He won’t have that next time.”
“Consider that he was the first wizard in history to have that much.” Sirius shakes his head. Charlie Weasley has been doing some investigating with the Dragon-Keepers’ historical archives, and already sent him a letter with preliminary numbers when Sirius asked. “There’s been no one who had a bond like that with a dragon that they’ve been able to find. Even the ones named dragon-friends have raised the dragonets entrusted to them and then let them go back to their wild. What Chaos did for Harry is unprecedented.”
“Why did he call her Chaos?” Greengrass asks. Her voice has a nasty edge that Sirius recognizes. She’ll attack as much as she possibly can, to avoid being impressed.
“Because my godson speaks the truth.” Sirius stares from face to face. “Think about that. Someone who’s honest and just, but still allied to you. And who can gain unprecedented friendships with magical creatures. Someone who’s faced down a wizard as a baby and again as a teenager whose name makes you cower.”
Greengrass frowns and Nott tenses as though he’s clenched a fist beneath the table, but Selwyn only nods. One reason Sirius chose to invite the people he did is because they’re less reactive than some of the other Dark wizards and witches, and thus less likely to storm out in a huff when he says something blunt.
“It would make him easier to manipulate,” Selwyn says, and smiles at him.
Sirius controls the blast of his temper and just shrugs. “You might think that, but Harry isn’t that kind of wizard. But you can certainly come and speak to him. He’ll be arriving home for the summer soon. Speak with him. He won’t be afraid to meet you face-to-face.”
“Of course not. He was a Gryffindor.” Greengrass sounds a little sour.
“In Slytherin for the last two years. Where he’s convinced a bunch of young Slytherins to follow him.” That’s as much detail as Sirius is comfortable giving right now, along with the fact that Harry’s formed friendships with some of them. He doesn’t think Harry is the kind of overcomplicated, cunning intriguer that these people will expect Slytherins to be, but that can be a strength, too.
“Then he does have the ambition for leadership that many have denied him.”
Sirius shrugs again, and lets Greengrass think that. The important thing is to secure allies for Harry whom he can forge into a fighting force. If he tells them they’re wrong and nudges them away from that path right now, he’ll accomplish nothing.
“Well. This is interesting.” Selwyn taps a long red nail against her lips, and then nods. “I have decided. I will meet with your godson, Black, and see what he has to say. Always reserving, of course, the right to turn my back on this alliance if it turns out that he is not interesting enough.”
“That is enough for now,” Sirius says mildly, and then glances at Greengrass and Nott.
They look at each other, but if they are having a silent conversation the way it looks like, Sirius doesn’t know what they’re saying. They seem to be closer than he thought. Then Greengrass nods, and Nott faces Sirius with a put-upon sigh. “We don’t think he’s as interesting as Hecuba does, but we’ll talk with him.”
“Thank you,” Sirius says, and leaves it at that. Too effusive a wave of thanks will just make them more suspicious.
“And when do we get to meet him?”
Sirius can at least smile at that, after a glance at Narcissa that he makes sure none of the others see to check on whether it’s okay. “He’s riding the Hogwarts Express home tomorrow. I imagine it won’t be long after that.”
*
“So you did receive all the books that you asked for from your father?”
Theo nods and leans back against the seat opposite from Harry. “Yeah. But I don’t trust him at all. Thanks for inviting me home with you for the summer.”
“I’m calmer to have you there,” Harry says, and looks at Ron and Hermione, who are sitting next to him. “You know that you lot are welcome to visit as well, don’t you?”
“Of course,” Hermione says, and smiles a little at him. “But I do want to spend time with my parents, and I imagine Ron wants the same thing.” She glances at Ron, who starts out of the half-doze that he’s been in since they got on the train.
“Of course,” Ron echoes, without opening his eyes. Harry smiles, amused that Ron can follow the conversation so well. “But we’ll come and visit over the summer, Harry. I think my mum’s a bit paranoid about security with Voldemort back, though. She even wanted Bill to come home, and he’s just about as safe as he can be, working for Gringotts.”
Harry nods. “Right.” He looks up as the door of their compartment opens and Blaise comes in with Daphne and Astoria behind him. Astoria is blushing and trying to hide behind Daphne. She’s a tiny thing with hair longer than her legs.
“Hello, Astoria,” Harry says, trying to be kind. Astoria just ducks into the furthest corner of the compartment from him and shrinks down into herself.
Daphne shakes her head at Harry, silently telling him it’s not his fault, and then says, “We got a message from our mother.”
“What did it say?” Harry knows that Daphne wrote to her parents, telling them that she and her sister would be staying with Harry and Professor Snape this summer, but that was several days ago and they got no owl back before they left Hogwarts.
Daphne bows her head. “She said that we have a fortnight to reconsider our behavior. After that, we aren’t to bother to come home.”
Hermione is the one sitting nearest Daphne, and she’s the one who takes her hand. “I’m so sorry, Daphne.”
“I knew we were more objects than daughters to her,” Daphne whispers, while Astoria makes a whimpering sound and leans against her sister. “But-I thought she was more of a parent than this.” Tears are sliding down her cheeks.
Harry opens his mouth to say something, not sure if he’ll make it worse or better, and then Blaise says quietly, “Did you get your copy of the Prophet this morning, Harry?”
“No.” Harry glances at him, and sees the way Blaise is cradling the paper in his hands, staring at it as if it’s made of gold.
“You should look at it,” Blaise says, and holds it out.
Harry takes it, and winces a little at the headline his eyes go to automatically, because it’s above a photograph of him they must have taken right before he disappeared to the resurrection in the forest. WHAT DISEASE HAS DERANGED HARRY POTTER’S BRAIN?
“Well, I knew they were going to start spreading stories about me,” Harry says, and then catches Blaise’s eye and sees him shaking his head.
And that’s when he notices the other headline, which is screaming in letters even larger. Harry’s only excuse has to be that it didn’t have that photograph by it, so it seemed less important.
MASS AZKABAN BREAKOUT!
Harry reads quickly through the article, feeling a little sick. Yes, the escapees include Death Eaters. The Lestranges, who he knows tortured Neville’s parents. People named Rosier and Mulciber who were loyal to Voldemort during the first war.
And Peter Pettigrew.
Harry looks up and finds Blaise staring at him with a grey face, while Hermione reaches out impatiently for the paper. Harry nods a little to Blaise. It’s obvious that Voldemort is behind this, and even more obvious that the paper isn’t going to report anything about him being involved.
“We’ll do what’s necessary,” he says, and forces what could be despair away with a will that’s been building in him since Chaos died.
She died. Harry doesn’t want to lose his friends that way, because of stupid things his enemies did to him. He doesn’t want to suffer like he did when Voldemort was feeding on his skin and flesh.
It’s going to be hard and long and probably will hurt some of his friends.
But they have a war to fight.
Harry’s not about to back down.
The End.
First chapter of Leopard's Choice, sequel.