Bab 50: Harry Gaunt - Chapter 50
Harry gave the final instructions to Polly as he waited for Bellatrix by the door. "If anything happens, come get me, no matter the time." He glanced past the wall up the stairs. "And don't listen to anything she says."
Polly bobbed her head.
"Don't let anyone else in either," added Harry as he shifted back. "And don't let her out, not till I say."
"Yes, Master Gaunti." Polly would do exactly as her master said. "Drui is our prisoner."
"That's right." Harry cast another glance towards the stairs. "And if she tries to persuade you-"
"Stun her." Polly looked ready to do it in her apron. "But don't hurt her."
Harry nodded. He was glad Polly had caught on so quick. "Okay, here they come." He heard footsteps from upstairs, yet another the two had needed after dinner. It had been an awkward affair. Druella had kept asking Harry questions about his magic, wanting him to demonstrate wandless spells and the like.
Harry wasn't a monkey. She went too far when she asked Bellatrix to summon a snake.
Click Click Click.
They came down the stairs, where Bellatrix stepped off and turned back to her mother who remained just above. Druella glanced at Harry.
"I'll drop by later," said Bellatrix reassuringly. "Anything you need, speak to Polly."
Harry looked away at the portraits. Polly knew what to do.
"I will, thank you Bellatrix." Druella smiled and said goodbye with a gentle smile. Bellatrix was all grown up as returned up the stairs in her elegant heels.
Harry didn't hear a goodbye for him. "Ready?" he asked Bellatrix.
"Yeah." She came over and wrapped her arms around his waist. "Sorry about all the questions." Bellatrix hadn't expected her mother to quiz him like that. "I'll explain later."
Harry waved it off. He'd let Bellatrix handle it as he took them away.
Crack.
He brought them back to her bedroom, the two getting ready for bed without delay. "You go first," said Harry as he sat on the bed. "I'll wait."
Bellatrix looked at him, then nodded and walked into the bathroom.
Click.
Harry nibbled his lip. He had to check it now as he apparated to Arcturus's office, retrieving the story book he'd stashed before.
Bellatrix had told him to leave it be, but Harry couldn't as he flicked to the first page. The Three Brothers was a historic tale that everyone knew, even if Harry hadn't always. But this book he'd never seen before, it was old and different from the others he'd been able to find. "It's been hidden away…" Harry inspected the cover, contemplating what he might learn towards its end.
Did they really part as equals?
Harry had to find out as he read from the beginning, checking every part that was different with intense scrutiny. The eldest brother had indeed been murdered and the wand taken, but through it all Death was said to be waiting in the shadows. He was described as gleeful, happy as the blade slit the brother's throat.
Harry turned the page. Cadmus had killed himself, but not before falling in love with a different woman and bearing a son. The stone was said to have driven Cadmus mad after using it too much, plaguing him with visions and dreams of the dead. He'd killed himself to escape it, not because of hopeless longing.
Death it seemed and watched it all. Harry noted that he seemed far more human in this than the other stories, like a vengeful murderer, not a spirit of the afterlife.
And then came Ignotus, his cloak and the boy with untameable hair. Harry could see why they'd cut that bit out, but not the cold as the cloak had been bequeathed. To wear the cloak of Death itself, was different than the other two. A stone and a tree, how could that compare to Death's very own cloak?
But it wasn't just that, there was more.
'A feeling of cold set the boy on edge. He looked to his father who'd knelt before him, his gaze one of sorrow and apology.'
Then the boy had watched his father disappear like a ghost on Christmas Eve.
"Harry?" Bellatrix poked her head from around the bathroom door. "I was calling. Can you come in?"
Harry startled with the book in hand, then saw the towel around Bellatrix. She was smiling at him. "What are you reading?" she asked him curiously.
Harry showed her the cover. "I had to," he answered to her sigh. "It's not just a story. It isn't." Harry turned to the final page. "I have the cloak. Ignotus was the Potter's ancestor."
Bellatrix had seen the cloak in his memories, those by the mirror as she walked gently from the door. "I believe you Harry, I do." Harry looked down at the floor. "But what does it matter now?"
"It matters because now I've read this, I know that Death couldn't just let me die!" Harry scrambled to his feet. "He sent me back here as some kind of punishment, some wrong that I committed."
It could have been anything. Settlement for Ignotus who died a natural death, or consequence for housing a shard of Voldemort's soul. Or perhaps it was the Hallows themselves, because Harry had used their power to sacrifice himself.
"Harry, that's a bit farfetched." Bellatrix tried to get in front of him, to see his face. "It was probably something else, a spell or, something." She just tried to calm him down. "What wrong could you have done?"
Harry looked up with a snap, his eyes full of pain. "I was a Horcrux. I had to die in order for Tom to die too." Harry lifted his hair and showed her his faded scar. "I showed you before, but didn't explain."
Bellatrix came close and inspected his forehead. She'd seen a glimpse of it before. "I did see it," she said. "They called you the 'Boy Who Lived'." She kissed his forehead. "Harry Potter, the boy who lived. It suits you."
She pushed Harry back onto the bed, giggling as his hand came up to stop the towel from slipping. "Thank you."
"You're welcome." Harry felt her get comfortable on top of him. It felt good to hear his name again, even if part of him knew it wasn't his anymore. "I hated being famous," he said with a glance at the ceiling above. "But even more than that, I hated it was cost me." His parents, his childhood. A family that loved him. "And now I am here, and so is Tom. Death undid everything I'd worked for."
Harry saw it no other way. It should have ended that day in the Forbidden Forest.
"Maybe Death did you a favour." Bellatrix lay on top of him. "He rewarded your sacrifice. Gave you a chance to live again."
"He sent me back to do it all over again. How is that a favour?" Harry hadn't asked for a second-chance. He'd wished for Death and been given life. "It's a cheat. I should have died."
"But now you have me," whispered Bellatrix in his ear. "A chance to be happy." She lifted up and peered into his face. Harry had never said as much, but Bellatrix had felt his longing for it all to be over in his memories. It must have been so hard for him. "Never mind Harry, it's all in the past, future, who cares." Bellatrix slid away and stood by his knees. "Come on, I want to try something."
She prompted him up by the hand.
Harry looked at her curiously. She didn't seem upset. "What is it?"
"Just come. Trust me." Bellatrix tugged him to his feet and towards the bathroom. She'd show him why being alive was so much better, why Death had indeed done him a favour.
Harry shut the door behind them.
~~~~~~~
It was late into the evening when McGonagall looked up from her desk, the parchment below left alone as a light crept beneath her door. "Who's there?" she called from across her chair. "Peeves, not tonight."
The light flickered a bit, cementing in her mind that it was the meddlesome poltergeist. "I swear if I have to clean up another dung bomb…" She got and strode towards the door. It was bad enough that Potter and his friends did it, but Peeves was a nightmare. "Off! Off with you!"
"Sorry, I should have knocked." Dumbledore stood outside with his wand lit up. "I was curious what you'd do." He was all dressed up in his colourful robes.
"Albus?" McGonagall looked both ways down the corridor, he was alone. "It's late, what's going on?"
"Are you busy?" he posed. "Because I've a mind to ask you something, but I am not sure if you will agree." His eyes twinkled in amusement.
McGonagall looked at him as if he were mad. "You'll have to be more specific, Headmaster, or I am closing this door." She stepped back.
"We're waiting on you." Dumbledore retrieved a key from his pocket with a smile. "The word is 'Phoenix', they'll refreshments available too."
McGonagall took the key into her hand. It was a Portkey.
"I'll go on ahead." Dumbledore apparated with a silent crack, plunging the corridor into darkness.
McGonagall stayed by the door. "That man," she said to the empty corridor. "Will he ever just speak plainly?" She thought not as she shut the door and headed back in side. She retrieved her cloak and winter hat. "Phoenix."
Swoosh.
She appeared in a private room at the Hogshead Inn. "O-oh, hello." She stepped back from a man sitting down, then glanced at the spread haphazardly around the room.
"Evening," he said to her, then turned away again. "He's over there."
McGonagall tried to see where he meant, she was obviously looking for Dumbledore.
"With Podmore. Open your eyes woman."
"Yes, thank you. That's quite enough." McGonagall hurried off from the obnoxious man.
He gave her a nod, clearly discontent about being here.
"Albus." McGonagall arrived behind the Headmaster and another man. "Albus, what's going on?"
They were sipping Pumpkin Juice, each of them old as Dumbledore turned around. "Ah, Minerva. Thank you for coming." He tipped his head at her, the man beside looked on in interest. "This Elphias Doge, he runs a store in Diagon Alley."
The elderly man stepped up with his cup of juice. "A pleasure to meet you," he said to her politely. "I assume you're the Transfiguration Professor?" He glanced at Dumbledore.
"Yes, that's correct."
There were more people arriving in the background, more of Dumbledore's friends as Doge reached behind for a biscuit. "You'll be an excellent asset," he added on. "I am great admirer of Transfiguration."
McGonagall tried not to appear as confused as she felt. "Thank you." She opted simply. "You as well."
Doge straightened his jacket, of course he was a valuable asset. "But of course, it's why we're all here. I fought against Grindelwald you know." He grabbed a second biscuit, munching it down. "Tell her Albus."
The Headmaster looked back from the gathering people, they'd been taking seats at the large table setup to the side. "It was a brief exchange," he afforded to his friend. "Minerva, why don't you take a seat beside Ms Vance." Dumbledore gestured to the pretty blonde who just sat down. "I'll begin shortly."
Dumbledore stepped away to greet the others, leaving McGonagall with Doge and an awkward silence.
Doge took another biscuit. "I did you know," he affirmed about the Grindelwald thing. "If that wrench Rosier hadn't interfered, I'd have finished him off for sure." He reached back for the plate, offering McGonagall a Bourbon.
McGonagall declined. "I'll take my seat. But thank you, Mr Doge." She moved quickly off.
"A pleasure. We'll speak later then." He watched her go with a wave. "She's lovely." He munched on another biscuit.
McGonagall arrived at the table a moment later.
"Don't mind him," said Ms Vance as McGonagall sat down. "His wife died not long ago, such a sweet man really. I am Emmaline Vance by the way." Emmaline nodded at the only other woman in the room.
"Minerva McGonagall." McGonagall returned it with one of her own. "Do you know what's going on here?" Everyone was taking their seats around the table, leaving Dumbledore at the end so everyone could see.
"You weren't informed?" Emmaline looked surprised that McGonagall didn't know. "We're finally standing up, that's what, we're tired of doing nothing." Emmaline seemed very spirited, the sort that would protest over Animal Rights. "Look, Dumbledore's starting."
Dumbledore was by his chair clearing his throat. "Yes, I see." McGonagall was starting to see a pattern with the people that had been invited.
"Welcome dear friends," said Dumbledore to them all. "Thank you for joining me here on such short notice, but recent events have pushed me to take action that I have otherwise avoided until now." A round of agreement murmured around the table.
"So what's the plan?" said the obnoxious man from the beginning, he sat close beside Dumbledore. "I say we catch the buggers red-handed, it wouldn't be hard." He thumped the table, angry at the deaths that had occurred.
"We can't do that Dedalus, not yet." Dumbledore placated the man with careful look. "We cannot risk coming to blows with these groups, they will not hesitate to attack us and unfortunately, we're outnumbered." The Headmaster looked around at the aging group. "And unsuited. We must instead prepare for what is to come."
Dedalus huffed, crossing his arms beneath his greying beard. "We've been preparing already," he rebutted. "It's useless. The only good that came of it was getting more Aurors - and that wasn't even us!" He looked across the table at another man. "Moody, you explain."
Heads turned to the young Auror, Alistair. "It was after that Gaunt kid blew up half the alley," he said with a grumble. "It helped my old man push it the order through, even though Crouch tried to weasel out of it."
Moody looked doubtful that anymore help would come from the Ministry, Crouch could be bought, that boy walking free being only the latest example.
"Exactly, we're ineffective." Dedalus looked back to Dumbledore. "We should be assisting the Aurors with our expertise, helping track these wizards down not just waiting to be attacked. It's not right."
Dedalus was going to speak to Moody Senior and offer his help to the Aurors.
"This group is not like what we had with Grindlewald. They're not an army, they're English witches and wizards who believe, no how incorrectly, that what they're doing is right." Dumbledore addressed the table again, looking deeply between the many faces that had come. "I know who leads them. I know who he is and what he's done." He swallowed. "I don't intend to allow anyone of you to be lost to this cause."
McGonagall paid close attention to him. Dumbledore had never said this before during their discussions. "Who is it Albus?" she asked above the pause. "If you know who, why can't we stop them?" McGonagall did not believe they could be a match for the Headmaster.
"My thoughts exactly," added Emmaline. "What's stopping us?"
"Because," sighed Dumbledore. "I do not think I would succeed. I am old now, we all are except a few." He smiled at Minerva and Emmaline. "But Tom will have the upper-hand if I should lose, he won't hesitate anymore, which I can only conclude is why he hadn't revealed himself yet."
"You're a deterrent?" blinked Doge further down. "So if you fight him, and you lose, he'll…" He looked very concerned. "I see.
Dumbledore nodded. "It is only my belief," he added. "I had expected he would come forth by now, reveal his group and their intentions, but he hasn't. He's waiting for something that I do not know."
Tom had always been a cautious boy, careful and meticulous in his plans. Dumbledore knew he was only one step away from plunging the country into chaos; yet he hadn't, it wasn't like him.
McGonagall raised her hand.
"Yes, Minerva?"
"Sorry but, am I to assume that Tom-" She waited for a last name, but none came. "-is responsible for the Muggle Raids? The deaths that we've seen for over a year now?" She wanted to be sure. "Is that so?"
He was to blame then. It was him that had killed her husband.
"Yes, Minerva. It was by his will that your husband…" Dumbledore looked at her sadly. "I am sorry. I should have acted sooner. But we have plans now to help protect those most vulnerable."
If Dumbledore had just dealt with Tom two decades ago during his interview for the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, this could all have been avoided. Dumbledore knew that he'd been responsible for Myrtle's death, and so much more, yet had done nothing but turn a blind eye.
"Then what are waiting for?" McGonagall concluded in an angry tone. "We must fight him. If we wait he'll gather even more influence, Albus, it'll be war!"
Purebloods and Mudbloods. The houses and the money against everyday folk who worked hard everyday. It wasn't right, what did the Pureblood's really have to complain about anyway?
"She's right Albus, we can't just prepare and wait to be destroyed. The Aurors are ready, we can thank Gaunt for that." Dedalus smirked. Gaunt was obviously disturbed, he'd jumped the gun and attacked before the uppity Dark Lord was ready. "Stupid boy."
A few round the table murmured in agreement.
"Have any of you met him?" asked Emmaline to those gathered around. "Gaunt I mean. I was curious when I first saw the article, an old family coming back to life, amazing is it not?" She'd even pondered whether to write to him, the Vance's had actually been allies in the past.
"It's not amazing, Emmaline, it's bloody inconvenient." A new voice piped up from the other end of the table, a Caradoc Dearborn. "I for one didn't celebrate when those nutters returned, nor can I believe that Morfin sired an heir." Caradoc had seen the man during his trial, he'd been hideous. "He'll be right up there when the fighting starts."
"Thank you Caradoc," snapped Emmaline. "I'll be sure to ignore everything you just said." She ignored his sniff and looked to McGonagall. "Minerva, have you met him? He's at Hogwarts, isn't he?"
McGonagall sat up straight. "Yes, he's a sixth-year."
"Not a seventh?" Emmaline glanced at Dumbledore. "I thought he was eighteen? The Daily Prophet said so."
"He doesn't have OWL's, or any academic history we could obtain. But he's quite skilled," remarked Dumbledore. "More experience than anything academic." He looked to Minerva for her assessment.
"I'd agree on the experience front, but as for uneducated, no." She shook her head. "Mr Gaunt is a gifted wizard, and I am sure that he's had some kind of formal education, he wouldn't be able to read otherwise." McGonagall looked to Caradoc, who seemed amused. "Morfin couldn't if I recall."
Caradoc nodded. "There was a sister too, she did it for them." He didn't say her name, poor girl. "What would your assessment of him be?" he returned.
Emmaline looked in interest as well, they all did for McGonagall to tell them. "Well, I don't know him at all really," defended McGonagall. "Dumbledore would know him better."
"Not at all, I get the feeling he doesn't like me actually." Dumbledore encouraged her to speak. "How is he in class? That's if he actually attends." He chuckled.
McGonagall suppressed a sigh, searching her memory for something to say. Oh yes, that would do. "He appears to be acquainted with a Muggleborn, a girl in Hufflepuff. I saw them chat during lunch the other day." Dumbledore had been out, he looked at her curiously with the others.
"And would this be a friendly acquaintance? Not something more…" Doge glanced cautiously around "Sinister?"
Dedalus guffawed from beside Dumbledore. "I doubt it."
"I certainly don't," supplied Caradoc. "The Gaunts did worse during their time. Tell us more Minerva."
"Yes, what were they doing? Are they friends?" Emmaline looked excited. "I wouldn't expect someone like him to be friends with a Muggleborn, given his family. Perhaps he was raised elsewhere then?"
"Good question." Caradoc added that to the list. "And how closely he is related. Surely someone should know where he came from. Black for example, or Euphemia, she knows everything about everybody."
That she did. Even Dumbledore found her difficult at times. "Take your time Minerva," he said.
"Albus. I don't know him." McGonagall didn't appreciate the twinkle in his eyes. "Only Ms Black seems to be close to him. And Martha he must have met on the train, beyond that, I can only say that she looked happy to see him." She heard Caradoc's sigh in disappointment. "Now can we please move on?"
She still had a lesson plan to finish. And vengeance to befall a man named Tom.
"Of course, we mustn't linger on things we cannot answer." Dumbledore stood again and headed to the table. "Tea break. We'll reconvene in a moment."
Everyone got up. This was going to take forever.
Two hours later.
Dumbledore closed the door to the private room. McGonagall was behind waiting in the hallway, having stayed behind to help tidy up. "Albus, I don't wish to disagree with what was discussed," she began. "But I disagree."
"I know you do." Dumbledore turned from the door with a pleasant smile. "But for now, Dedalus and Alistair will help the Aurors, while we and the others handle things elsewhere." He offered her his arm. "Like Hogwarts."
Crack.
McGonagall didn't wish to involve the students as they travelled back, and she wouldn't, not unless intervening was the only choice. "They won't know anything Albus," she said as they appeared in his office. "They're children, it's their parents that are to blame, not them."
The candles came to life around the room. Fawkes gave a trill with a spread of his wings.
"I wish that were so Minerva, but fact is fact, some of our students must be curtailed." Dumbledore arranged a book upon his desk. "The Lestranges, Rabastan in particular is already causing problems with the younger years. And Malfoy, Rowle, I've noticed things." Dumbledore tapped the book's cover, a record of detentions. "We must keep a close eye on them."
He looked up to McGonagall, hoping he could count on her help to prevent the situation from worsening. Tom was trying to establish a power base at Hogwarts, and using Lestrange and his peers to see it done.
"I won't do anything a Professor should not." She turned away. "But I will as you put it, keep a close eye on them."
"That's all I ask," accepted Dumbledore. "When the time comes, I will make the decision to keep Hogwarts safe."
McGonagall nodded, heading out under the gaze of a man she'd come to trust above all others.
"And keep an eye on Harry too," called Dumbledore before she left. "Him and Bellatrix. They know more than they let on, but they're place in all this I cannot say."
They were meddling, that was for sure. But to what end remained unclear.
McGonagall left and returned to her room. She'd do her best.
If you'd like to read ahead and support me in the process, please check out my Pa treon /bactum
AN
Updates will be once a week I think, about 4-6k per chapter. Along with the odd weekend for my other works.
Happy 2023!
Bactum
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