The Bitter Hug of Mortality | R | Chapter Six

[meh_forget_it]

Chapter Six

As the week passed, the Death Eaters became used to seeing Harry walking around seemingly having a conversation with himself, though it wasn't a regular occurrence as Harry generally stuck to either the library or the cemetery. He had decided, however, that since everyone in the manor knew he spoke to the dead, he wasn't going to bother pretending he couldn't hear something they couldn't see. Plus, he'd noticed that evidence of his, even in the wizarding world, creepy talent made many of the Death Eaters give him a wide berth. He had also noticed that he had yet to bump into either Malfoy. He wasn't sure if that was deliberate or just luck.

Right that moment, on his eighth day at Riddle Manor, Harry could be found walking slowly through the hallways of the manor snickering and talking to himself. Or some random ghost. There were a couple of Death Eaters who honestly couldn't tell you which as Harry did seem crazy enough to have a full conversation with himself.

"So you're telling me that they shove an old hat on their head and allow it to read their minds?" Harry asked incredulously, snickering in delight as the passing wizards stared at him in affront as some realised what he was talking about.

"Yes, they don't seem to see anything wrong with it." Severus told him dryly, clearly telling Harry his opinion on the matter as he walked beside him - Harry having pushed a small amount of energy into the man so he could finally see him.

"Right. And then, at the age of eleven, they're segregated into houses that supposedly suit their personality. At eleven. They're supposed to know what they want in life at eleven?! I couldn't even decide between a Snickers or a Twix at eleven, never mind which house to be sorted into that would shape me and how every viewed me for the rest of my life!"

"I did say that wizards are completely nonsensical."

"Maybe it's the magic. Maybe magic just totally fucks with your brain and makes you batshit crazy," Harry said, grinning widely at the insulted looks he got with that statement. Severus though just nodded.

"It's probably a good theory. Now, did you still want to learn potions?" Severus asked him, making Harry shrug and glance at the tall man out of the corner of his eye.

"I suppose. You sure I don't need magic for that? Because well, that would be a bit pointless if you do."

"I assure you that you don't need magic to make potions. Well, the basic potions. There are some that need some sort of magic to work, but the main ones can be made by anyone. Besides, your kind of magic may well work in the case of the potions that do need magic."

"Right, well, maybe we can consider that at a later date. Now, I'm guessing we need like a chemistry lab or something," Harry said, pausing in his trek in case he was going in the opposite direction to said needed lab.

"Something like that. We'll need a potions lab."

"Ah, right. Guess I should ask El Dark Lord where it is then and if it's free, huh?" Harry asked, ignoring the scandalised looks he was getting from passing Death Eaters.

"El Dark Lord? I thought you could speak various languages," Severus drawled, sneering at him then rolling his eyes when Harry just grinned at him.

"I do. Dead languages. You know, like Old English and Gallic and shit like that. Languages the dead people around me speak. I've never yet met a dead Mexican. But when I do, I'll make sure to ask them what Dark Lord is in their language. So, off to make Potions then? This should be fun! Ooh! Can we make explosions?"

"If you're anything like your dunderheaded brother, then there's no doubt there'll be explosions," Severus muttered, looking disturbed at the mere thought.

"Hmm… you know, we did have fun making things explode when we were kids. Yeah, that was fun. Right, Dark Lord! Potions!" Harry said and pushed away from the wall he was leaning on and headed back towards where he guessed the Dark Lord might be. "I'm guessing the library."

"You could ask me."

"You know? Right, where is he?"

"With a few other Death Eaters in the second dining room on the ground floor," Severus told him, walking towards the stairs. Harry just nodded and followed after him, excitedly thinking about making potions, something he'd never been able to do when he actually lived with wizards as he was considered too young.

Marcus had been told by a very exasperated the Dark Lord that their Death speaking muggle was currently learning about potions, being taught, they all assumed - though Harry hadn't actually told them - by Severus Snape. After being told this, the Dark Lord had then order Marcus to go check that the potions lab was still there and Harry was still alive.

So Marcus was now heading towards the Potions lab, passing the occasional Death Eater muttering under their breath about insane muggles calling them crazy - Marcus just knew there was going to be an amusing story behind those mutters - and then came to a stop in front of the door to the lab.

It was only the knowledge that there was a silencing ward around the room that stopped Marcus from feeling nervous at the silence. Taking a deep breath, he steadied himself for some sort of disaster and walked in the room.

"So… adding these when the cauldron is over the flame would be a bad idea, why?" Harry asked the room, holding what looked to be porcupine quills in his hand and a look on his face that told everyone witnessing it that he was just dying to put the quills in the cauldron now. Marcus couldn't help the flinch as he thought of the reaction. "Right, explosion… again though, why is that a bad thing?"

"Because it would cover you and you would then be covered in sore blisters," Marcus told him quickly, hoping that would be a good reason not to cause an explosion. Harry spun on the spot and smiled brightly when he saw him standing in the doorway, thankfully he placed the quills back on the desk and took the cauldron off of the flame. Which was coming from a strange cylinder style container that Marcus had never seen before.

"Marcus! How are you? Oh, and Severus wants me to tell you thank you and that er… huh… and that you can now teach me potions as he's realised apparently dead people can have high blood pressure. Hey! That's just not nice! And you can't bloody have high blood pressure! Don't go hiding off you wimp!" Harry shouted at the ceiling, before huffing and stomping his foot, then turning back to face Marcus, this time with a pout in place of the smile.

"Potions not going well then?'

"He called me a dunderheaded blithering idiot who wouldn't know the difference between aconite and wormwood! I thought they were the same bloody thing!" Harry exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. "And then he took points from Gryffindor! What the bloody fuck did he do that for?!"

"Er… Right. Well, Snape always was a little er… set in his ways. He takes potions quite seriously, so if you didn't show much talent in th subject, he'd not really have much patience with you."

"Who said I didn't show talent! I already brewed the forgetfulness potion, which is completely useless if you ask me. Just whack someone over the head or give them rohypnol if you want them to forget something. Don't bother faffing around for an hour and a half stirring this way and that and hoping to god you get it right. I mean, sure, both the other methods are technically illegal but… er… laws don't really seem to be your groups thing. Besides, it's only illegal in my world, the muggle world, so you wizards seem to think you are above those laws, so why not? Er… is there a reason you're here?" Harry finally asked, looking at Marcus as though only just realising he was actually there.

"Dark Lord sent me to make sure you hadn't blown the place up."

"Yes well, as you can see it's fine. Not that I didn't try! Severus really wasn't up for making cauldrons explode. Spoilsport," Harry muttered, crossing his arms over his chest and huffing.

"I've never yet met a potions master who liked explosions."

"Huh. Actually, I have. Well, sort of met. Well, spoke to. Well he wasn't exactly a potions master. Or a wizard…" Harry trailed off and grinned sheepishly at the incredulous look Marcus was giving him.

"So, you haven't either?" Marcus asked him slowly, watching warily as Harry quickly cleaned everything away and then moved over to him.

"Technically no, but he did make potions and he did like explosions! Anyway, apparently there's a pissed off snake behind you and she er… wait, what?"

"What?" Marcus asked, slowly turning around and backing up a little when he saw Nagini hissing at him and sounding, as Harry said, a bit annoyed. He grabbed Harry and shoved the man behind him, well aware that the muggle apparently had absolutely no common sense.

"Oh! Right. Er… Marvolo - the actual Marvolo, not your Dark Lord - says that the snake is looking for food and er… her master said to look down here. Let's hope he didn't mean us, huh?" Harry said cheerfully, patting Marcus on the shoulder in what Marcus assumed he had meant as reassurance.

"You speak parseltongue?"

"Nope, but Marvolo does. Just make a mouse go poof!"

"Poof?"

"You know! Appear!"

"You can't conjure living creatures without a specific spell," Marcus told him dryly, mentally bemoaning having a conversation with someone who knew nothing about magic.

"Not what I've heard. But fine. Offer yourself up then because I don't want to die and you're useless at magic apparently!" Marcus' jaw dropped in shock and he spun around to stare at Harry in horror.

"Why the hell should I die?"

"Why should I? Besides, we're fine, the grumpy snake is moving on. Apparently she didn't like the scent of me… hey! What's wrong with my scent?!" Harry shouted out after the snake, making Marcus just sigh and roll his eyes.

"Stop bringing her attention to us. She's evil and will have no trouble killing either of us, and if we hurt her, we might as well kill ourselves before the Dark Lord finds us," Marcus hissed at him, yanking Harry away from the door and slamming it shut before Nagini could change her mind and come back to eat them.

"Why does he have a dangerous pet that eats people running lose in the house?" Harry asked after a moment or two, getting an incredulous look from Marcus.

"He's the Dark Lord, why does he need a reason?"

"Huh. True," Harry said with a shrug, before he suddenly turned his head to the side and pursed his lips. "Right, I think we need to go to the Dark Lord. Like, right now."

"Er… why?"

"I've just received some news from Abraxas that he would need to know. Oh, and someone called Valterri Flint says to just do as you're told and stop slouching so much, you look common," Harry added after a moments pause, smiling brightly when Marcus just gaped at him.

"You… spoke to my grandfather?"

"If he was called Valterri Flint, then yes, I did. Come on, let's go find your Dark Lord and tell him what I know."

Harry followed behind Marcus as they entered the room that Lord Voldemort was in, Harry nibbling on his lip and dreading the reaction he was going to get for his information.

"There's not a lot he can do to you, dark magic doesn't exactly work the same on you, you know," Ignotus told him soothingly, making Harry stumble and fall into Marcus' back, blushing and grinning when Marcus looked at him over his shoulder.

"Wait, what? Really?"

"Yeah, didn't we tell you? Hmm, must have slipped our minds. In our defence, we didn't expect you to come face to face with possible dark magic this early in life."

"Yeah? Well you all suck and should share this kind of shit with me," Harry stopped in what he was saying by an impatient cough grabbing his attention. He looked up to see Lord Voldemort and several masked Death Eaters all looking at him and Marcus expectantly. "Oh, right, hi!"

"You needed to see me, Mr Waterhouse?"

"Yes! Yes I did. Um… I have a message from Abraxas. Just… the people here, you trust them all implicitly, right?" Harry asked, nibbling on his bottom lip and praying he wasn't about to find out how dark magic reacted to his own magic, though noting that one of the Death Eaters seemed to perk up at the mention of Abraxas.

"This is my inner circle of followers, Mr Waterhouse. I trust these above any of my other followers. So do not worry about what you will be telling us leaving this room," Voldemort told him in his sibilant voice, making Harry restrain himself from shuddering a little.

"Right, well two things that are related. One, Abraxas said that you apparently have a spy. He heard that from someone called Orion? I dunno. Anyway, Orion then told Abraxas that the spy has told Dumbledick about me. Which totally sucks, by the way. I mean, really fucking sucks. But hey, I was hiding from the decrepit old fool anyway! The point is though, a) you have a spy and b) because of said spy, Dumbledore has decided they really need me on their side. Apparently me living here with you delightful people isn't enough of a hint to him that I'm not interested in his games," Harry told them, scowling at the mere thought of Dumbledore.

"I did tell you he was a menace. He's been hankering after your cloak for as long as I can remember. Shame it seems to have disappeared, isn't it? Wonder where it went." Harry rolled his eyes at Antioch's drawl and scoffed loudly.

"Whatever, like you don't know where it is. You're dead, you can certainly get into Gringotts without being caught. Now stop talking bollocks and tell me something useful," Harry snapped, ignoring the interested looks he was getting from Voldemort and the Death Eaters.

"That is not the first time you have mentioned Gringotts. How does a muggle know of our bank?" One of the Death Eaters asked, making Harry roll his eyes and look at Voldemort incredulously, which was admittedly a bit lost behind the glasses on his face.

"Really? This is your elite? Oh dear. The dead talk to me. Whether they've got magic or not. Hence me knowing this shit and talking about Abraxas and Orion. Because, even in the dark ages, those are not normal muggle names. Not saying they're bad, mind, just not muggle," Harry added hastily just in case he insulted one of the wand wielding powerful idiots in front of him.

"Yes, sometimes I wonder how they've made it this far as well," Voldemort drawled, sneering at the foolish Death Eater who spoke out. Harry grinned when the Death Eater then flinched and shrank back from Voldemort. "Now, do you know what Dumbledore plans to do?'

"Orion seems to think they'll currently just be scoping out Little Hangleton, which totally sucks because it means thats another week at least going by where my bakery is shut. Do you know how much money I'm losing?"

"Why are you whining about money? You'll never be poor. You know where all the hidden treasure and riches are in Britain. Probably the world if you travelled a bit. So stop whining and giving the man a reason to curse you! Neutral and light magic still affects you normally!"

"Shh, Dark Lord meeting in progress. Quiet time now from those without a pulse," Harry snapped suddenly, glancing at Marcus when he snorted in amusement, looking just as shocked that he'd done it as Harry was.

"As you asked for my protection from Dumbledore, I cannot allow you to reopen your bakery yet. Stop whining before I get annoyed and forget about your safety and comfort," Voldemort told him mildly, which was a touch more menacing than it would have been if he'd yelled it.

"Right. No on the whining then. Okay. Got you. By the way…"

"No."

"I didn't even ask! You didn't give me a chance! Christ, you're like the dead! They never let you get a word in edgeways either! And don't even get me started on talking to dead seers! They're nothing but trouble! Having someone answer your question before you even thought it is just off-putting," Harry ranted, before stopping and swallowing heavily at the look Voldemort was sending him.

"You can speak to seers? And they still know of the future?"

"Er… well, yeah. Not right now, mind because no seer has died near enough and none of your followers are connected close enough to a dead seer," Harry admitted with a shrug, snickering when Antioch drawled about how surprising that was given how inbred they all were.

"What do you mean close enough?" A Death Eater asked, one that was actually female going by her voice and possibly more insane than he was if you went by the manic glint in her eyes visible through her mask.

"Oh right, well, I can hear those that have died within twenty-five miles of here, but I can also hear those that are related to me and those related to anyone close to me. Though, I mean directly, like your name has to have been connected to theirs somehow on your family tree. So I can't hear second cousins or anything. Just parents, grandparents and so on. If you're in the same house as me, then chances are I can talk to your dead relatives," Harry told them with a shrug, grinning suddenly when a few shifted uncomfortably.

"Any dead relative?" Another Death Eater asked, moving forward a little to stand next to the crazy lady one.

"Yep, as long as there is a direct link from you to them on your family tree. Well, unless you killed them, then they might hunt me down to talk to anyway. And by talk I mean bitch, whine, moan and generally be annoying. So, hold off on killing relatives, yeah?"

"Too bloody late for that! My own bloody son killed me!"

"To be fair, you did abandon him," Harry said, not noticing the sharp look Voldemort sent him.

"His bloody mother jinxed me into loving her! Did you ever see her?! Did you?!"

"Guess it's a good job he got your looks then. Right! I've told you what I know, so I'm going to head to the library, I guess. Um…"

"Yes?" Voldemort drawled, looking a little murderous for reasons Harry couldn't quite fathom.

"If I say what I've just been told, can you promise not to curse me?"

"They promise."

"Right. Um… Orlav said Antonin has been forgetting his roots and now his Russian is shit. That's all! Bye now!" Harry said quickly, running from the room before the Death Eater called Antonin could get over his shock and curse Harry regardless of the promise his Lord had made. "You really are going to get me shot."

"Unlikely. I doubt any of them would even know which way to point a gun, never mind how to fire it," Frank said dryly, getting a snicker from Harry even as he darted into the library. Harry glanced around the room quickly and gave a relieved smile when he saw no one. "If you want to get into the room without anyone knowing about it, you had better move. That Marcus lad is quickly making his way here."

"Right," Harry said with a nod, before darting down the right aisle of books and coming to a stop in front of a blank wall. Leaning his back against it, he slammed the wall with his fist, grinned when he heard a click and then shoved back. The wall gave a slight sigh as it shifted back an inch and then slid away slowly to reveal and small square space, just big enough to hold a comfortable chair, small desk and a few shelves on the wall for books.

Harry quickly stepped into the room, turning to push the wall back into place behind him and smiling when it shut. He was so thankful that he had managed to keep this room hidden from the wizards so far. It was quite nice knowing that there was somewhere he could go to be alone if he wanted. Well, alone in terms of the living.

"So how are things with my family?" Harry asked, once he'd sat down and asked Frank to keep an eye out for anyone coming close to discovering him.

"Your brother is constantly struggling with the strain of everyone's expectations. Your mother is no longer really talking to your father and is trying her hardest to find ways to get your brother out of the war, your father is still stuck up Dumbledore's arse and your little sisters are fine, they finally graduated from Hogwarts last month, and your mother has told them to go travelling around the world for a bit before settling down," Sylv told him, making Harry smile a little, happy that his mum was trying to protect the rest of his siblings.

"Are Dahlia and Rose going to take her advice? Please tell me they will."

"They are. Your mum placed a substantial amount of money into each of their vaults that should last them for at least six months. I believe they are going with a couple of friends. I don't know where they're thinking of going first though."

"Okay, think Aunt Dorea and Uncle Charlus will be happy to watch over them and let me know if they're in trouble during their trip?" Harry asked, looking to Ignotus for an answer this time.

"They have been watching over them since you asked them ten years ago, I do not see why they would stop now. John and Elizabeth Potter are, of course, watching over Charlus."

"What about Tel?"

"You know he is still with your brother. Now, what are you plans now Dumbledore knows for sure that you are here? It won't be long before Voldemort finds out you're a Potter, then what?"

"But I'm not!" Harry whined, huffing and crossing his arms over his chest, only just stopping himself from stomping his feet.

"By birth, you are. Just because you took up the name Peverell, does not mean you aren't related to the Potters. You have been taking steps to watch over and protect your siblings since you were six. What will happen if he finds out about it? I can tell you that he won't be impressed," Cadmus told him, raising an unimpressed eyebrow at Harry's small hissy fit.

"True. I don't know! I don't want to fight in this stupid war! Neither does he! It's all fucking Dumbledore's fault! Once he's gone, then he can finally be bloody free, can't he? And I can finally see them!"

"Your sisters think you're dead."

"Well, as it has been said before, reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated."

"We need to plan. And you need to do another ritual."

"Why? I don't need another bead yet."

"You need to make some proper casting bones. For that you will need to gather the knuckles of various people. I will tell you where I am rested so you can get mine," Ignotus told him, making Harry gape at him before he smiled brightly.

"Really? I get to make them finally?"

"Yes, you are not quite a master just yet, but we all felt it was time. He is impressed with how you have developed. Your newest bead is just one sign."

"Still, you're going to let me use some of your knuckles? Yours?!" Harry asked, stunned and a little in awe at the thought.

"Yes, we'll ask around for anyone else who will offer their bones for you. You will need to bathe before it though. And don't forget that even though Lughnasadh has passed and you missed that, you still should celebrate Mabon."

"Er… it's the beginning of August. We have a good month before Mabon. No need to worry about that yet. Who knows what will happen before then with the Dumbledore thing."

"He has a point, you know. Now, given I died only two years ago, you obviously can't use my bones, but I will tell you where your great-grandfather is buried. We'll have to get his bones late at night, but I suppose the same could be said for all."

"Well, we have ten days until the full moon in order to get permission and volunteers, so to speak. We will work on it on our end. You just need to make sure you stay alive that long."

"Right, ten days. So how come I haven't bumped into any werewolves yet, you'd think I would have by now."

"Probably a good thing that you haven't. Since your seventeenth birthday, you will now smell of death to them. That would bring up some questions you don't want to answer."

"Sorry to interrupt, laddy, but a group of young men just walked into the library. Thought I'd let you know as they will probably hear you talking if they come down the aisle outside."

"Ah, thanks, Frank. Guess I should do a bit of reading, huh? Because I can guess just who is outside in the library now and I really don't want to face him."

"Probably the best idea. Read that book on runes you found the other day, the one in Gaelic. That should be interesting and may be useful," Antioch told him, motioning for the book he was talking about in the small pile on the desk. Harry just nodded, already able to hear loud voices outside - apparently wizards didn't know you were quiet in libraries - and picked up the book in question. Though his excitement about the upcoming ritual just made it harder to concentrate on a language he wasn't all that great at reading in the first place.

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A/N - Hmm, quite a short chapter I'm afraid, sorry, just thought this was the best place to end this. Still, a little more about what Harry can do has been answered and if you were wondering, Harry is only pagan in the sense that he follows a religion that not many others do (in fact, he's currently the only one). Necromancy, as well as being his species, is also his religion in a way. Death is his God. It just so happens that all those pagan holidays happen on magically powerful nights of the year. He doesn't celebrate them all, and he doesn't celebrate them in the traditional way for those that are savvy on what people do on those days.

You also got to hear more about his family. Harry's feelings about his brother are mixed. He loves him and wants to protect him, but when he was younger he blindly followed Dumbledore like his father, so Harry resented that a little. Now Charlus is older however, and Lily is whispering things in his ear and showing him the truth of how he's been manipulated.

If anyone was wondering, there is a difference between a cemetery and a graveyard. Not that anyone has brought it up. Just thought it was an interesting little fact. I should add more of these things. See how many people actually read the authors notes. *Grins* Maybe a blatantly made up 'fact' or factoid (apparently actually means a fact that is wrong) to see if I get any indignant reviews about how I talk absolute bollocks… Two facts in this chapter. Three if you count the one about the dictionary definition of a pagan being someone who follows a god/religion that is not one of the main world religions. Paganism isn't one religion. Sorry to burst so many bubbles there. *Snickers*