Capítulo 8: Chapter 7.
Chapter 7
The Nightmare Man
Summary: In the depths of the Ministry, there is a cell for the world's most dangerous man… and he wants out.
Pairing/s: None.
Warnings: Time travel, OOC-characters, Light!bashing, Twisted!Harry, Evil!Harry, violence, mention of gore. Yeah, stuff like that.
Disclaimers: I don't own Harry Potter nor do I make any money writing this.
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Edited 2020
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Chapter Seven
The attack on Hogsmeade was the return of Voldemort's full forces that Albus had feared for years. That he had continued to warn people about. A man like Voldemort would not law low forever. But people loved peace to the point they willingly ignored any signs of war.
This, they couldn't ignore. Voldemort needed to die once and for all.
It was time to start training Harry for the task.
But first they needed to recover from the attack. Albus walked into the Great Hall that had temporarily been turned into an infirmary, as the one in the school wasn't big enough for all the injured people. Some had been sent to St Mungo's but many of them hadn't suffered severe injuries and could thus rest in the Great Hall for a bit.
James and Lily came up to him. James had a cut on his forehead, and Lily's arm was bandaged.
"Are you two alright?" Albus said.
"Yes, we made it out without major injuries," James said. "They're still counting the bodies. No Death Eaters were discovered."
"They were most likely taken back by their comrades," Albus said. "Voldemort has always been careful to not let Death Eater corpses be found."
"Albus, have you seen Severus?" Lily asked. "I've asked around but no one's seen him."
Albus frowned. The man had gone to Hogsmeade to help, but urged to remain in the shadows so Voldemort did not discover him.
"Perhaps he was called by Voldemort," he said. "Voldemort usually calls on him after attacks such as these ones."
"But to go without saying anything to anyone…"
"I'm sure he's fine," James said. "Snape is valued by Voldemort."
"Yes, I know, but he takes such risks to make up for the mistakes he's made," Lily said. "He's my friend, I worry for him every time he goes to Voldemort."
It had been hours since the attack. Could Severus still be with Voldemort? Or was he in the village, helping people? Albus knew he shouldn't care too much about Severus' well-being, seeing his precarious role as a spy. Any day could be his last, if he made the wrong move, and even if he didn't, a spy was only useful as long as there was war. Once the war was over, Severus would be a loose thread and Albus would have to do something about him then.
"I'm quite sure he'll show up eventually," Albus said.
"It's been over three hours. Why would he go to Voldemort without at least telling you?"
"Perhaps he had no time. He has done that a few times, in order to get information about Voldemort's next moves."
"But he didn't even seem to know about the raid!" Lily hissed. "What if… what if he was called there Voldemort decided to kill him?"
"I assure you, Lily, there is no need for concern."
The deep voice had them all turn around. Severus gazed at all of them, a bandage around his throat.
"You're injured," Lily said.
"A small graze, that's all," Severus said.
Albus thought he saw James flinch for a moment.
"Were you called by Voldemort?" Lily asked.
"No," he replied.
"Then where have you been?" Albus asked.
"I was knocked unconscious during the raid," Severus. "I woke up not too long ago."
"Better have Poppy check over you then."
"Nonsense, Albus, I've been checked over by a healer at the village," Severus said. "I won't waste her time. Something wrong, Potter?"
"No," James got out. "Just figured… you'd been called by Voldemort."
"It would seem that the Dark Lord does not have much faith left in me," Severus said. "Not that he had much from the start."
"Severus… I know this is hard, but you must try."
Albus thought that the man's eyes flashed silver for a moment, but then the dark eyes looked straight at him. Severus had done so several times, he never was afraid of looking Albus in the eye, yet this time… it was creepy. Something crawled up Albus' spine at that look, but there was nothing different about it.
"Of course, Albus," Severus said. "I'll speak to Lucius about it."
"I still can't believe we haven't caught that guy in the act!" James growled.
"Lucius Malfoy is a careful man, Potter, and he has chosen his acquaintances well. Now, if you may excuse me, I would like some rest."
Dumbledore nodded.
"Will you contact Lucius later?" he persisted though.
"Yes. After I have rested."
Something felt off, but Severus was his usual self. Albus let him go, watching him move out of the Great Hall, robes billowing behind him. Sometimes Albus wondered if he did it to intimidate people. It certainly worked on the children and Ministry officials. Then the headmaster turned back to the hall, and went to speak with Minerva to see if they should give the children a day off or not following this shocking attack on the nearby village.
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Harrison had Lucian collect Voldemort to his manor, as he himself was far too comfortable to move anywhere. All in all, he had gotten some good results tonight. He was very pleased with what had happened, and swirled a glass of wine in his hand. He did not drink often, but he could take a glass every now and then.
Voldemort entered before Lucian and glanced around.
"Is this your home?" he asked.
"Yes. I had another, but that was more decoy than anything else. Please, have a seat."
Lucian poked his head in and said:
"Do you need anything, master? I'd like to go read."
"No, no, you're free to go, Lucian. Thank you for bringing Voldemort here."
"My pleasure."
"They act differently from what I thought of servants," Voldemort mused as he sat down in an armchair opposite of Harrison.
"You mean they aren't brainless and obedient?" Voldemort nodded. "That would be so utterly boring. They are loyal but as for obedient… sometimes they like to tease me."
"You disappeared right after the raid."
"Yes, I found something to play with. I needed to get that done. How did it go?"
"Exceedingly well. They won't forget it for a while."
Harrison summoned another glass of wine, and saw Voldemort straighten up. He smiled. His magic was heavy, and old. Just by summoning a glass, Voldemort knew Harrison was the more powerful out of the two of them. If he had wanted to tonight, he could have forced his way into Hogwarts. But he didn't. That wouldn't be as fun, pulling out all the moves in one, fell swoop. Harrison wasn't ashamed to admit that sometimes his actions were based on the amount of fun he could wring out of it.
Harrison wondered if Voldemort fit that category too. Well, Voldemort had a goal, so probably not.
Glancing over at Voldemort, Harrison wondered if the man fit that category too. He didn't desire to kill Voldemort, but did he respect the man? He was a child in Harrison's eyes, yet still held respect. Was it lingering feelings from when Harrison was that foolish Harry Potter, having just realized what the Light really thought of him? The despair knowing he had killed the only man able to help him.
Well, that was a long time ago for Harrison. This Voldemort wasn't even that Voldemort. He hummed and sipped some wine. All the same, this one had a goal. Harrison didn't.
He didn't care for the death and destruction of Muggles to be honest. It just looked funny to see the rage on people's faces when he said so. They could continue live their lives for all he cared, just as long as they didn't butt into their world. Muggles had no need to know about wizards and witches.
Once more he glanced over at Voldemort. What he had said earlier about Muggles destroying what they didn't know or understand, and wizards thought about it… maybe it wasn't as true as he thought. Wizards and witches were far from perfect. Light people assumed dark wizards and witches were bad and had to be destroyed, but the dark ones couldn't be seen as much better. He snorted quietly to himself. It seemed like everyone on this planet were bastards, him included.
That brought him to another question. Was he using Voldemort? Harrison had manipulated people most of his life, and tricked them. Deceived them, and he had enjoyed it. But this one, he didn't feel like tricking Voldemort. Maybe because they had a common enemy; Albus Dumbledore. Or maybe he just liked Voldemort. The respect there was for the fact that Voldemort was a powerful wizard for his time. There was no denying that.
However, Albus Dumbledore was also a powerful wizard. Harrison didn't respect him, but then again, he was the sort of man who threw people aside once he was done using them. That was the Albus he knew. Harrison had no idea if this Albus was the same. He didn't care. This Albus could be anything he wanted, and Harrison was still going to kill him.
"I'm a fool," Harrison said.
"What?" Voldemort looked over at him.
"I said Muggles destroy what they don't know… well, so do I. I have this intense need to get rid of certain people and I don't care what they're like. I just want them gone."
"No one is perfect," Voldemort said. "I killed my father when I was fifteen."
"You did? Why?"
"Petty revenge," he admitted. "The man had all the right to refuse to take me in, and in the end he didn't even know I even existed until I went there to kill him. My mother had deceived him with a love potion. My mother, a weak pureblood, fell in love with a Muggle."
"A Muggle you say?"
"Yes. Father was seen as very kind by others, but I killed him anyway."
"Then we aren't as different," Harrison said. "I never killed my parents though but I can certainly relate to that. Kill no matter what. All of us are fools."
"The strongest fools survive," Voldemort replied. "In the end, there is no good or evil. There is only power and those too weak to seek it."
Harrison grinned.
"Aye. That does sound right. Although we are classed as evil," he said. "And we call them the so-called good ones."
"More or less. I'm not very good at following my own advice." Voldemort finished the wine and relaxed. "How did you like Diagon Alley earlier?"
"Oh, it was fine. Slightly amusing though, thinking about it. Two Dark Lords going shopping… it sounds so strange."
"You're the one who took forever shopping."
"And you tagged along," Harrison replied.
"That's true. And you looked to enjoy yourself."
"I like having nice clothes. As a child, I was dressed in rags."
"Why rags?"
Harrison put aside his wine glass, least he destroy it by accident. He had matured a lot over the years, who wouldn't, but anger still came quickly. Rage even quicker.
"Because my horrid relatives deemed me not worthy of wasting money on," he replied. "Or anything else for that part."
"So you had relatives?"
"Yes. What? Do the legendsof me say anything else?"
"People seem to believe that such evil could not have been born but created."
"Me, created? From what, a potion in a cauldron?" Harrison remembered Voldemort from his teenage years, stepping out of the melted cauldron, and couldn't help but laugh at that. "I was born like everyone else."
"Not much is known about your early years."
"Not much to be said." He had no desire to reveal he was a time-traveller just yet. "I grew up hated and despised, and therefore hated and despised them back just fine."
"Are they the cause of you being who you are?"
"A contributing factor," he admitted. "So many things contribute to who you turn out to be in the end. If things had been just a bit different, I probably wouldn't have been who I am today. Is it the same with you?"
"Perhaps. I don't dwell much on it."
Harrison had in his youth. He had wondered and questioned, and wished. There was nothing that could be done by simply wishing.
"I stopped doing that… I think," Harrison said. "What do you plan to do now when it's out that the war will start once more?"
"The Ministry is in shambles. It needs to be reformed. Muggles can never know of magic. It's better for all parts involved, even if the Light doesn't see it that way right now."
"But they mentioned Inferi… earlier, when I was in my cell. Did you make them attack Muggles?"
"The Muggles were in the way," Voldemort said with a shrug. "They were either disposed off, or Obliviated. As it stands, only the magical world knows of the Inferi."
"Ah, yes, the Obliviate spell. Rather useful. I haven't used it a lot myself but I guess I should train. For all the chaos and suffering I like to put Muggles through, you are right. Muggles should never know magic. Back in the days, using magic was much easier. There were so many other things for the Muggles to blame. The devil's work, an old lady's sorcery… magic was somehow real back then, and people were burnt for it."
"Muggles doesn't live in delusions like that anymore. They have advanced, in some areas greater than us. They wish to know so much…" Voldemort stared off into the distance. "I should get back. Many things to plan, and do. What will you do?"
"Oh, I'll keep myself occupied. It was fun, joining you. Perhaps I should stick around."
"You didn't show yourself in front of Dumbledore's Order."
"Well, that would have certainly been boring, wouldn't it? I'm afraid I measure the amount of fun I can have instead of the amount of good I can do for the Wizarding World. Guess that falls on you instead."
"I wouldn't mind some help."
"… Is that something you ever imagined you would tell someone?" Harrison asked.
"No," Voldemort replied. "I've never… I've only admired your words… you have no idea how important your book was to me. Perhaps you do this to have fun, to not be bored… but my respect will not disappear. I've admired you far too long for it to disappear."
That felt good. Harrison felt warmth even down to his toes, out the tips of his fingers. Oh, so good. He loved it. Or perhaps love was the wrong word. He wasn't sure how to love things anymore. He told Lucian he loved him, and his servants, and Harrison supposed he was very fond of them, but actually loving them? Harrison had no idea. Either way, he liked the way Voldemort looked at him.
"You truly look like a child who just found his hero," he couldn't help but add.
The scowl on Voldemort's face was familiar and made Harrison laugh.
"Sorry. I just had to," he apologized. "Oh… this might possibly be the first time in a very long time I apologized to someone."
"Oh?"
"Yes. Don't get used to it. I'm not."
"I'll make a note of that," Voldemort stated as he rose up. "Is there any way of contacting you?"
"Ah, yes, we probably should think something up. Right now I don't have anything, but give me a few days and I'll have something ready."
"You know my manor, and how to get in. You're welcome at any time."
"Thank you."
It surprised Harrison when he realized that was genuine. He was thankful that Voldemort had invited him to his manor at any time. That he was welcomed. It was such a surreal feeling, to be welcomed. He was feared, a monster of old ages and fairytales, not someone you invited in for tea.
He took that joy to his heart and, as he stood to follow Voldemort to the door, wondered if after his long years of hatred he had finally gotten tired of his own attitude. Either way, he was feeling things again. He even wanted to feel things again. Hatred was grand and all that, but got old real fast. He wouldn't go around promoting love like Albus Dumbledore did to gain support, but perhaps he could mean it when he said it next time to Lucian.
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Meanwhile in Godric's Hollow, the Potter pair had their son home for the night, as most parents had their children back from Hogwarts. Lily was peacefully asleep, as peaceful as one could sleep after such a day, and fifteen-year old Harry was asleep as well.
James Potter however, was not. He was pacing the living room, worry and fear gnawing at him. Though it was by mistake, he had attacked Severus with enough force to kill him! He had even gone back just to make sure, and the man hadn't been moving then. James tore at his hair. How was the man alive?! Why were the wounds gone, and why, for Merlin's sake why did he not say anything?
Severus Snape had seen who attacked him. He had seen James. James didn't regret that his spell hit Severus, he just regretted not making sure the potions master was truly dead. For years he had to endure his son praising that dungeon bat, and Lily kept defending him! Always telling James and Sirius off when they mocked him, called him names.
Severus Snape was a Death Eater, a monster and an enemy. He didn't deserve James' son's respect, or the friendship of his wife. James wanted him dead. He had started thinking out situations where Snape would end up dead, and the deflected spell had been perfect in a way. If it was discovered, he could say he didn't know it hit Snape. He thought he had succeeded, until Snape stepped into the Great Hall, looking like nothing had happened to him.
And to look James in the eyes and say nothing was wrong… act like nothing had happened. Still, those wounds… James' spell had been full force, it had sunk deep into Snape. Severus Snape should be dead. There was no way he could have survived, even if a healer came along and started helping him.
So how was the man still alive?
Tbc…
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