The Bitter Hug of Mortality | R | Chapter Four

[meh_forget_it]

Chapter Warnings: There will be a major character death in this chapter, but as you may have gathered by now, death isn't exactly final in this world.
Also, yes, eventually, there will possibly be slash in this. It's not certain yet, the only thing that is certain is that Harry is gay, so if that bothers you then just stop reading. Don't whine in a review to me about it and how its immoral or whatever bollocks you believe. I'm not moral. Harry's not moral. Who wants to be moral? Boring. ;D

Chapter Four

Marcus gathered in the main receiving room of Riddle Manor along with the eleven other members of the inner circle of Death Eaters - not that Marcus was a part of the inner circle, he was only there because he was the only other person other than the Dark Lord who had spoken to the strange baker in town - all there to discuss said baker and what they had found out about him.

"You are all my most trusted. I do not trust some of the other Death Eaters not to just go into the town and torture the one I am interested in, which is why you are the only ones I have gathered. Now, as many of you are aware, this past week I have had a few of you gathering information on a resident of this small town who I suspect may be more than he is pretending to be. Lucius, step forward." Lucius, mask doing nothing to hide his identity given the man didn't bother to hide his highly recognisable hair, stepped forward and bowed before straightening and waiting for his orders. "Lucius, tell me, what have your contacts found out about the young muggle baker?"

"My Lord, I have been able to find out that between the years of nineteen-seventy-seven and nineteen-eighty-two, only seven squibs were born. One died at childbirth and two were female. Of the four surviving males, it is not apparent what happened to them, but two were born with a name that could be shortened into Harry."

"Oh?"

"Yes, a Henry Phillips, of the relatively young pureblood Phillips family was born in nineteen-eighty-one and well…"

"Lucius?"

"The Potter's gave birth to a squib son called Harry in nineteen-eighty," Lucius told him quickly, not bothering to look up to see his lords reaction to that piece of information, though Marcus was watching and so saw the wondering look on Lord Voldemort's face.

"What happened to the Potter squib?"

"No one knows, My Lord. Most assume he died as there are no records for him other than his birth certificate and one healers record where it was confirmed that he was a squib. He was last seen in public when he was six. After that, no one saw anything of him."

"I remember that child. He was very strange. Laughed even when it looked like his older brother was going to die. Of course, he was one and therefore probably didn't know what was happening, but he didn't show any fear. He was a very strange child, now that I think of it. There is absolutely no more information about him? Nothing to say what happened to him? Not even a death certificate?"

"Nothing, My Lord. I asked around, but no one could tell me anything new."

"Marcus, Barty, step forward. Lucius, you may step back for now." Marcus glanced to the man next to him and took a step forward with him, both bowing quickly before straightening up and waiting for their lord to acknowledge them. "Tell me what you have found about our mystery baker."

"My Lord, we searched many different muggle censuses and records. From what we have found, he is called Horatio Waterhouse, though he tends to go by Harry. He owns the bakery and a small cottage on the edge of town, both were left to him in his great aunt's will, a woman who was his legal guardian from the age of eleven. He is seemingly very intelligent, finishing muggle school early and taking the muggle equivalent to NEWTs at fifteen, then gaining a degree in culinary arts, by the age of seventeen. His guardian, Sylvia Waterhouse, died when he was twenty and left everything to him. There is no record of him before the age of eleven, nor is there any birth certificate available anywhere," Barty told him with barely a twitch, which Marcus found impressive for the man.

"Anything else?"

"I asked around about him, My Lord. Generally he is a well liked young man, with many in the town feeling protective of him due to his disabilities and general frail appearance. Many believe him to be slightly touched in the head and I did speak to one person, a past teacher of his, who told me he suspected Harry had some form of schizophrenia. However, as far as I could find, there are no records of him being diagnosed as such or even having an appointment with a mind healer to diagnose it."

"So we are not the only ones wondering about young Mr Waterhouse's sanity. Did either of you find out anything else about him?"

"Just one other thing, My Lord," Barty said, sounding anxious about whatever it was he was going to tell them.

"Yes?"

"Well, it seems that he closes his bakery every year for the month of October. No one knows why but he has done so each year for the past two years. He also disappeared for that month every year since graduating, though his aunt did not follow him wherever he went as she never closed the shop."

"And no one knows where he goes for an entire month? No one at all?"

"No, My Lord. It is likely the aunt knew, but she never told anyone before she died."

"Well, I believe we should work on bugging his shop then. We need to find out what he knows, if anything at all and if he is in contact with anyone in the wizarding world. Marcus, given you have already been there and are close in age to him, perhaps you could befriend him, see if you can find anything out that way."

"Yes, My Lord, although…"

"Yes?"

"In all the research I did, not once did anyone ever mention a friend or anyone close to him other than his aunt. I will try to get close to him, my lord, but I do not see it being easy."

"I will take that into account then. Other than befriending him, I think we should place eavesdropping charms on several items around him, does anyone have an animagus form that may help in spying on him?"

"Oh! My Lord, I am a bird. I could possibly spy on him whenever he is outside," Nott senior said, sounding smug about the fact, though Marcus had seen what bird he was and turning into a common robin was really nothing exciting. It didn't say much positive about the man's personality either.

"Very well then. We shall follow this plan then and as soon as anyone finds out any information that they think is important, then come and tell me. Otherwise, do what you feel is necessary to find out if he is in contact with any wizards but do not allow him to get suspicious."

"So you don't know what kind of bird he is then?" Harry asked, wiping down the counter as he prepared to open the shop on the monday following his ritual. He'd spent most of the day before, once he had woken up, playing with his new bead and commenting on it, much to his aunt and the Peverell's irritation.

"Sadly not, lad. He's a nasty sort though, you be careful now. I don't want something happening to you."

"No, none of us do. Perhaps you should summon Him for some more help," Ignotus suggested, making Harry furiously shake his head.

"No, no, no. That is not going to happen. I can't bother Him with this! Why would He want to know about this?" Harry asked, a slight hysterical tinge to his voice as he thought about how pissed Death would be if Harry chose to bother Him about something unimportant.

"It is hardly unimportant. And He has already offered His support in this judging by the gift He gave you."

"Yes, and that was enough! I can't ask for anything more from Him! Look, I'm sure it'll all be fine and we're all worrying about noth-" Harry paused mid word when the bell above the shop entrance rang and the huge death eater that Frank said was called Marcus walked in, eyeing him strangely and then looking around.

"Were you talking to someone?"

"Um… no? I er… I talk to myself sometimes. You know, listing the things I need to do out loud so I don't forget them. Um… can I help you with something? In here for anything in particular?" Harry asked him, hoping that his nerves didn't show in his voice, but already feeling the difference the bead was making by allowing him to focus on the living as opposed to the dead. Something he has never truly been able to do before now.

"I came in for another pie. And eclairs."

"Oh right, same kind of pie as last time? Cherry, right?"

"Want to try something new. Apple this time."

"Oh right, well actually, I don't have any apple pies made right now, but if you come back in about an hour, then I will have one made for you. I can get you the eclairs now though."

"No, I'll get them when I come back."

"Okay then. I'll make sure to have your pie ready for you in an hour then! See you later!" Harry said cheerfully, watching him as he left the shop and then through the window to make sure he'd actually left.

"Bug."

"What?"

"Go into the kitchen. Don't speak until you do!" Harry frowned at Antioch's order but followed it all the same, figuring he needed to be in there anyway if he was going to be making a pie. Stepping into the kitchen, door swinging shut behind him and making sure that the mic for the bell was on so he could hear if anyone came into the shop, Harry grabbed the ingredients he would need to make an apple pie and then leaned against the counter.

"So? What was that all about?"

"He placed a bug. They can now hear everything you say in the main shop front. You should be safe in here though."

"Man, really? So what do I do? And don't say summon Him. You know I won't do that. He's got better things to do than look after me. Also, I've got a query."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, say Dumbledick finds me. I've got a choice then. It's either him or Voldepants. I don't really have anywhere else I can run, let's face it. And I certainly don't stand a chance against either one on my own. So, which is the lesser of two evils?"

"Both would want to control you."

"Oh, I know that. But isn't it bad luck to kill a necromancer? It'd certainly piss Death off. So I figure I could possibly stand up to them, not let them control me. It's not like they could force me to raise the dead or anything."

"True. But there are worse things than death. Neither would hesitate in going down that route to control you. Plus, no one knows what a necromancer is anymore so they do not know about the bad luck of killing one."

"Okay. So, lesser of two evils? Which would you recommend I go to? Hypothetically of course."

"Voldemort."

"Really? Why him?"

"He respects Death to the point of fearing Him. Were you to explain why it is against your code to raise the dead, then he would probably accept it. He would still use you though, just for things less likely to get you punished."

"Okay then, so Voldemort is the lesser of two evils. I'll make a note of it and just pray it never comes to the point where I need to run to him for protection. What is happening on Dumbledick's side?" Harry asked as he thinly sliced a cooking apple.

"He is still searching for you, though not as thoroughly as he could, thankfully. Your brother has started rebelling against his trainers, apparently realising he is a young man and all his friends are going out partying whilst he is stuck training day and night. Your sisters recently found a photo of you and asked who you were. Your father claims you died."

"Nice of him. It's going to be mighty hard to explain that away should Dumbledore succeed and find me. And are they actually relying on a twenty-four year old man to win this war for them?"

"Technically, they expected a fifteen year old boy to win the war for them. As the Light slowly loses more ground, Dumbledore gets more and more desperate. We're still not sure why he feels he is the leader, nor why he can't accept that Voldemort actually has some good ideas on how to change the wizarding world. But Dumbledore was to blame for Voldemort's rise in the first place. Tom Riddle tried to go about it legally at first, but Dumbledore kept blacklisting him until he decided to go dark. No one really knows what Dumbledore wants out of all this anymore. But still everyone stays blind to his faults. If you are lucky, then you won't get dragged into all this and be forced to witness the wizarding world collapse."

"When have I ever been lucky? I broke my foot by falling down a drain once. There is nothing lucky about me."

"Then you had either better start hoping your luck picks up or start considering summoning Him."

Harry stumbled on his way to the back kitchen and caught himself on the wall by the door, allowing himself to slide down it and place his head on his knees to try and stave off the dizzy spell that hit him.

"He's been here almost a month and this is the first time someone has died painfully. You have to commend him for his self-restraint, being a dark lord and all," Harry mumbled into his knees, breathing deeply when he felt his stomach give an unpleasant lurch.

"Frank has gone to see what happened. Just stay there and catch your breath."

"That was not fun. Is that going to happen every time he kills someone painfully? Because if so, I'm going to suggest once more that we leave."

"It'll get easier. This was just the first time you have been within a few miles of this kind of thing. Eventually you won't even notice it beyond a small clench of the stomach."

"Great. Shame I live near a Dark Lord who will probably be killing people left right and centre every day now. It's going to look weird if I collapse each time until I get used to it."

"The Dark Lord didn't kill me." Harry jerked and looked up from his knees when he heard a deep, controlled voice of someone he'd never heard before.

"I'm guessing it was your death I just felt, Mr… Snape?" Harry asked, feeling out so he could find out what he could about his new visitor from the spirits presence.

"Indeed, Mr Waterhouse, or should I call you Mr Peverell?"

"Either works. Not like you can tell anyone what you now know. You could, of course, just call me Harry. Anyway, if he didn't kill you, who did? A pissed off Death Eater?" Harry asked, shakily standing up now that he felt a little less dizzy. He had things to make in preparation for tomorrow morning and didn't have the time to laze around on the floor.

"I was poisoned, ironically. Not by a Death Eater, but by someone on the other side. I don't know who, but I have my suspicions."

"Huh, how come the other side poisoned you?" Harry asked as he started to gather the ingredients he'd need.

"I was a spy and I suppose someone either found out or suspected I wasn't as loyal as I wanted them to believe. Of course, the person I suspect poisoned me has never liked me even before I joined the Dark Lord, so who knows why he did it. Probably just to get rid of me finally."

"Well that sucks. So what has the Dark Lord found out about me recently now that I've moved his bugged chair outside?" Harry asked, grinning evilly at what he imagined the Dark Lord's reaction would have been to that.

"He hasn't found much out that you don't know about. He has been more focused on Dumbledore recently. The old menace has been trying to pass a few laws that would mean every child with magic in Britain would have to attend Hogwarts and also wishes the ministry to do a sweep of the country to pin point every witch or wizard. Of course, that last one is a violation of privacy but Dumbledore doesn't seem to care. He's quite focused on finding someone and feels that would be the best way to find them."

"I bet I know who he's looking for. Shame he won't find me that way," Harry muttered with a shrug, rubbing the ingredients for pastry together.

"Ah, but the old fool doesn't know that, does he? He thinks you're a wizard because your mother didn't believe you were a squib, regardless of the fact no Hogwarts letter arrived," Ignotus pointed out and Harry nodded his head in agreement. He was constantly grateful that no one knew what a true necromancer was and therefore had no idea what to look for.

"Let's hope if he does get his way, that it makes him drop his hunt for me."

A few days after the death of Severus Snape - and the man had clearly taken some sort of liking to Harry as he had yet to leave him alone and go back to where Harry liked to call the Green Room of the Dead - and Harry was once again eating his lunch, this time a small salad, when the bell rang and a tall man with mousy brown hair Harry hadn't seen before walked in along with the annoyingly bratty blond and the brute of a man that was slowly becoming one of Harry's regulars.

"Hello," Harry welcomed warily, eyeing the three men and feeling highly uncomfortable at having three fully trained wizards in his shop, one of which was eyeing him like he was something scraped off the bottom of his shoe.

"I don't know why I had to be here," the blond muttered in a whiny voice that made Harry roll his eyes and be thankful his dark glasses hid it from the three, though the amused look on Marcus' face let Harry know he had guessed what Harry had done.

"Ah, my delightful godson, Draco Malfoy. Along with Adrian Pucey and Marcus Flint. All heirs of prestigious pureblood families. Though Draco really does take the spoilt brat thing a bit too far. He liked to consider himself the nemesis of your older brother, actually, which is amusing considering Charlus was more focused on surviving whatever the Dark Lord threw at him and barely even noticed Draco. Much as Lucius would like to think otherwise, Draco never has been the brightest." Harry's lip twitched in amusement at Snape's caustic commentary about the three in front of him, and he mentally took note of their names, in particular Marcus', glad that Frank hadn't been wrong about the man's name.

"Back for more pie?" Harry asked, smiling brightly in hopes to hide the fact he was trying not to laugh. Draco just sneered at him whilst Marcus smirked and Adrian elbowed Draco to shut him up.

"Why are we in here with the crazy muggle?" Harry glanced at Draco before turning his attention back to Marcus and pretending he hadn't heard that. Not that he exactly blamed anyone for thinking he was crazy.

"I came for another cherry pie. And some eclairs," Marcus added, looking like he wasn't sure he should know why he had to buy more eclairs.

"Who wants eclairs?! Get me a strawberry tart, muggle."

"Er… right. So, a cherry pie, a strawberry tart and how many eclairs would you like?" Harry asked politely, hoping he looked like he had no idea what a muggle was. Although either way it sounded insulting.

"As you've probably gathered, my godson is one of those bizarre purebloods who doesn't want muggles to know about us and yet walks around like the statute of secrecy is just for everyone else and what he says won't ever have any consequences. In short, he's a moron."

"Six eclairs." Harry just nodded his head, and went about packing up the order for them, all the while silently wondering if Draco was aware his godfather thought he was a moron.

"Okay then, here's your order, that'll be five seventy then please," Harry told them as he handed over the boxes to Adrian whilst Marcus searched his pockets for money.

"We have to pay? What kind of place is this?"

"A shop," Harry pointed out, wondering if Snape wasn't being a bit too kind when calling the blond a moron.

"Do you know who I am?"

"No, do you know who I am?" Harry asked back pleasantly, smiling even as Draco glared at him and had to be held back by Marcus to do who knows what to Harry. Of course, were he to do something, then Harry would totally have no qualms against using his soul against him at a later date.

"My father will hear about this, you mark my words!"

"And he would be? Look, do you want the food or not? This place here, is a shop. You may not have heard of those before but they sell, meaning you pay money for, different goods. This shop, my shop, sells baked goods. Sells. Not gives away to pompous twats who think they own the world!" Harry snapped, talking to Draco slowly just incase the idiot didn't quite comprehend his words.

"Who do you think you are talking to like that?!"

"Someone who doesn't know what a shop is. And also, someone who is banned from this shop. Thank you for your custom, but please don't bring him back with you next time," Harry added politely as Marcus handed him the money and took the boxes of food.

"We won't. Sorry."

"You don't have anything to be sorry about. Blondie does," Harry told them with a small smile, getting one back in return as Adrian frog marched Draco out of the shop. Marcus then nodded at him and followed the other two out of his shop, leaving Harry alone to give a shaky sigh of relief and slump back into his chair. "That was tense."

"You may have gained their attention even more now. Not many would dare to talk back to a Malfoy. Even most muggles can sense he is wealthy enough to cause them some trouble should they insult him," Severus pointed out to him, only for Harry to just shrug his shoulders.

"I can do worse to him than he can do to me in the long run. Besides, the little brat needed a good dressing down! You're right, he is a total moron!" Harry muttered, scowling at the door as though daring Draco to come back.

"Well, you are right. It would be child's play to you to kill him."

"Oh no, I can't kill him. He would spend the rest of my life whining incessantly and probably calling me a peasant. So no, unless he dies hundreds of miles from me, then he has to stay alive for as long as I do. Of course, saying that, it doesn't mean I won't make his life miserable if he pisses me off again."

Once again Marcus was called to a meeting with the rest of the inner circle, though this time Adrian Pucey and Draco Malfoy were also called and Marcus couldn't help but wait for the Dark Lord's reaction to Draco screwing up. The annoyance needed taking down a peg or two.

"So tell me, does anyone have anything new to share about our little mystery in town? Did you manage to set a new charm in the shop? One that wouldn't so easily be moved outside of his shop?" The Dark Lord asked them, a dangerous note to his voice that told all of them he wasn't impressed by them so far. Which was part of the reason Marcus brought back eclairs each time he went there. It had so far saved him from a few Crucios.

"We did manage to put listening charms on his counter so he won't be moving that. However, there is one problem, My Lord," Adrian added nervously, glancing at the side to Marcus, who shrugged, whilst Draco seemed to get a bit paler, though still managed to look put out by the whole thing.

"Oh?"

"It might not be important, My Lord."

"Spit it out."

"What Pucey doesn't want to tell you, My Lord, is that Malfoy acted like a complete idiot and managed to get himself banned from the shop. He also went out of his way to insult the man and called him a muggle on a few occasions," Marcus said, shrugging when Draco glared at him, though Adrian gave a small, barely audible sigh of relief next to him.

"Draco, step forward," the Dark Lord said in a dangerously low and calm voice. Draco paled even further and took a shaky step forward. "What do you have to say?"

"M-My Lord, that… That muggle, he was rude! I was just… Letting him know his place!" Draco exclaimed, which just made Marcus roll his eyes and barely withhold the scoff he wanted to let out.

"Indeed. And how exactly is that helping us? In what way was he rude to you that justified practically telling him of the wizarding world? Tell me, Draco, does your account at Gringotts mean that you don't need a brain?"

"M-my lord!"

"Crucio." Marcus didn't bother hiding his smirk as the mini Malfoy fell to the floor screaming in pain. After a few minutes, the Dark Lord lifted the spell and sneered at the now whimpering Malfoy on the floor. "Marcus, set up the listening charm so that we can listen if he has any suspicions about us, and Draco, do shut up."

Marcus just smirked even wider as the mini Malfoy gave a feeble whimper before painfully dragging himself to stand and moving so that he was no longer in view of the Dark Lord. Marcus just sneered at him as he passed and then placed the small glass orb that he had linked the listening charm to and amplified it so they could all listen.

"Thanks for coming! I'll make sure to have that cake ready for your niece's birthday, don't worry, Ms Cornet." They all heard the bell of the door ring and then the door closing, then there was silence for a few moments before the baker started to speak once more. "I don't see why he'd come here. It's not like there's a sign above the town saying 'here he is, come get him!'. Besides, only my mum knew where she left me and she's too pissed to tell anyone."

There was another pause and everyone went quiet in hopes they could hear whoever it was he was talking to, though without any success.

"I'm not summoning Him. No matter how much you badger me about it. I'd rather not piss Him off and die, thanks. And I don't care if that pompous little blond moron does come back here with his dear old daddy. I'd like to have a few words with the idiot that raised that twat to let him know what he'd brought on the world. Seriously, holding a pillow over that brat's face would be a service to mankind."

There were a few snickers, though when either Malfoy turned to glare at a culprit, everyones faces were blank and showing no amusement at all.

"No really, you'd get the Victoria Cross and everything! Wait, what's up? What? Oh for fucks sake! Back to the kitchen then." And with that they heard another door being closed and then silence, with a barely audible muffled conversation happening in what must have been the kitchen.

"He knows."

"My Lord?" Marcus asked, not entirely sure what the Dark Lord was talking about.

"He knows that we can hear what he says in the shop front. I don't know how, but he does. It also sounds like he may still have contact with his mother, and if we what we suspect about him being a squib is true, then she is going to be a witch. Which means he also knows about magic."

"What do you want to do now then, My Lord?" Barty Crouch asked, stepping forward a little and boxing when the Dark Lord looked at him.

"If he does know about magic, then he definitely knows about us. Especially with Draco spouting off about muggles. If that is the case, then he's going to be wary about us even if he doesn't know who we are. I think, right now, Marcus should carry on working on getting close to him. See what comes from that. The rest of us should focus on heading off Dumbledore on the new laws he is trying to subtly get passed. However, if we haven't made anymore leeway by the end of August, then we should move forward and question him on what he knows. We cannot afford to leave any loose ends. Especially now."

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A/N - So, things are moving along a bit now and it's getting nearer to the point where he won't have a choice but acknowledge the wizarding world. Unless, of course, he risks pissing Death off and summons Him.

Oh, and if you were wondering, officially (in the muggle world) Harry is called Horatio Waterhouse. Officially amongst the dead, and were he to return to the wizarding world, Harry is called Horatio Peverell. He isn't, technically speaking, a Potter anymore.

Also, a few people in reviews mentioned Charlus as Harry's twin. He's not. To clear up confusion, here's Harry and his siblings dates of birth:

Charlus - 31st July, 1979 (yes, he's the boy who lived. Harry isn't.)

Harry - 31st October, 1980 (Due to the fact he was born after 31st August, he would have been two years below Charlus in school)

Rose and Dahlia - 7th December, 1983