章節 92: Confronting the Past
He kept his voice controlled, his low silky tone returning, "Of course, master. I await your summons." Receiving a hand gesture of dismissal from the Dark Lord, Snape rose from his seat and silently swept from the house before Apparating back to the gates of Hogwarts.
Slowly, concentrating on the magic in the house, Voldemort stood up and began looking around for anything that could be of use to him. There was some magical residue in one of the rear bedrooms but in the basement, it was almost overwhelming. Deciding to start with the basement first, he carefully headed down there, his magical senses stretched to their maximum.
Stepping fully into the musty basement, Voldemort took stock of his surroundings. There were scorch marks all over the room indicating a duel had taken place. It was the wild magic in the air that surprised him. Something terrible must have happened to release that much of it from one person. Walking the perimeter of the room, he stopped when he came to the spot where the wild magic had been released. Looking closely at the floor, he saw the old blood stain that indicated where the person had probably died. The question was, 'Who was it that died and how?'
After carefully searching the basement, he found nothing else of value so he headed up to the upstairs bedroom where he felt the touch of magic before. The bedroom was a modest size, something suitable for the first-born child, but not opulent. There was a small desk beneath the window that looked like it had seen a lot of use. The double bed was tucked into the corner next to a nightstand and a bookcase that still held quite a few titles, many of them from the late eighteen hundreds.
Perusing the titles of the books, Voldemort noticed that one of them had a piece of parchment sticking out of the pages. He waved his wand over the bookcase to check for spells, finding none; he plucked the book free and opened it to the page with the parchment sticking out. The book was nothing special; he had read it himself during his Hogwarts years.
The parchment piqued his interest. It was a missive between two people that had great affection for each other. Quickly re-reading the note, he picked up small details that he had missed in his initial perusal. Gleefully, he thought, 'I always wondered and here is the proof I need.' Pocketing the letter, Voldemort began to search the room in earnest for any other small tidbit that could help his cause.
He would ward the house with everything short of the Fidelius Charm before he retired for the evening. However, he had an important neighbor to visit before he turned in.
In London, John Granger was still sitting on the love seat in the library, shock plainly visible on his face. Every few minutes he would softly mutter, "Married?"
Annabelle sighed; she was having a hard time accepting that her daughter and Harry were married too. However, she knew that her husband was finding it much more difficult to accept. Fathers and daughters had that special relationship that was often very hard for men to let go as it changed into something new.
She was startled from her reverie when she heard the unmistakable sound of her daughter's voice.
"Mum, Dad?" Hermione called out to her parents.
Annabelle answered automatically, "Up here, sweetie."
Harry quirked an eyebrow at Hermione and mouthed, 'Sweetie?'
Hermione growled at him in a low voice, "Don't even think about it, buster."
Chuckling, the two teens entered the room hand in hand. Harry looked over at Mr. and Mrs. Granger sitting on the love seat together and said, "Hello. Are you two okay?" when he noticed the look on Mr. Granger's face.
Harry and Hermione were sitting together in one of the overstuffed chairs in the library while Sirius and Remus occupied the other couch. The coffee table was between them and a light tea service had been set out by the elves.
Deciding that someone had to start, Annabelle spoke first, her voice was soft and reassuring, "We aren't angry, just confused about how you two ended up married. Would you rather talk about that or about what happened tonight first?"
Harry could feel Hermione's apprehension through their bond. Wanting to ease her mind, he calmly said, "Why don't we start with what happened this evening. It is all interconnected but Voldemort is the bigger issue."
He paused to gather his thoughts and to look at everyone in the room before continuing, "As you already know, Voldemort regained a body this evening using some bones, Wormtail's hand, and my blood." Turning to Remus, Harry asked, "Do you know what ritual he used?"
Remus was worried how Harry would react upon learning that he now had his own version of a Horcrux. He kept his voice as calm as possible when he spoke, "There are a couple of dark rituals that he could have used to regain a body. It sounds like he needed your blood to complete the ritual and to forge a deeper connection with you. You mentioned that your connection changed. What did you do to modify the ritual?"
Harry was trying to recall his exact words in the graveyard; his voice was a whisper as he focused on his memories, "The ritual called for 'Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken.' I changed it by giving my blood willingly. When Wormtail dropped my blood into the cauldron, there was a pulling sensation from my scar. I concentrated and snapped the dark tendrils of magic surrounding it. Before I passed out, I felt something leave my scar and now my connection to Hermione is much clearer."
"Well," Remus said pensively, "that would explain why your connection is different now." He wanted to talk with the other adults before springing the Horcrux upon Harry and Hermione.
Finally, Sirius spoke up, his voice full of curiosity, "Harry, how did you escape? I know that they must have tied you up to get your blood."
Harry looked over at everyone present, with a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth. He turned to Hermione and squeezed her hands while pushing his feelings of love towards her. Softly, he whispered to her, "Don't be afraid, I love you."
Releasing her hands, he stepped into the center of the room and transformed.
Visceral reactions are very hard to suppress. When Harry transformed, Annabelle screamed, John pulled his wife behind him, Remus scrambled to his feet, and Sirius almost toppled from his chair in fright. Hermione was the only one that didn't react. Her trust in Harry was absolute and she just sat there studying his form.
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