章節 25: Chapter 25: A Pyrrhic Victory, of Sorts
Harry blinked as he entered the lodgings he and Bellatrix now shared. Compared to the stormy, overcast sky outside, the inside of the apartment was very bright. Over the days since Harry and Bellatrix had bought the place, Bellatrix had busied herself with furnishing it. Part of that furnishing included a lot of stand lamps.
For the first time, Harry realized that despite Bellatrix having made her furnishing purchases at magical stores with only one exception, the main living room area could pass as a Muggle residence with few problems. The exception was a television set. Apparently she had enjoyed watching the telly while they had been cooped up in the hotel room.
Proceeding through the living area and passing the kitchen and dining area that sat across from each other behind the living room, Harry made his way into center hallway. His bedroom was on the left and overlooked the street outside. He stripped off his shirt and winced as a jolt of pain reminded him of the cutting hex with which Lestrange had hit him.
He moved back into the hallway and down to the apartment's only bathroom. Luckily, Bellatrix wasn't holed up in it as she often seemed to be. He was examining his still-bleeding wound in the mirror when footsteps heralded Bellatrix's descent from the upper floor of their residence. Apparently, she had heard his arrival and was coming down to see how he had fared.
She appeared at the bathroom door, which Harry had left open, and arched her eyebrow at the wound. "Looks like you could have used some skilled assistance during your little outing."
Harry shrugged as he rummaged around in the medicine cabinet for something to clean and patch it up. "I ran into Rodolphus Lestrange."
"Did you kill him?"
"It's possible, I suppose," Harry said. "I banished him and then sent a wave of fiendfyre after him."
"The fiendfyre is admirable, Harry, but a killing curse would have been more efficient and guaranteed."
"Yeah, whatever," Harry said, getting ready to clean the wound.
Bellatrix imitated Harry's shrug as Harry cleaned the cut from Rodolphus. The cleaning caused the wound to reopen and begin trickling blood again.
"It's a war, Harry. You're going to have to get used to killing people." Her eyes fell on the blood oozing out of the wound. "Let's not patch that up quite yet," she said. "I was going to need a blood sample from you anyway. We may as well collect that now." She disappeared back up to the upper floor, leaving Harry standing in front of the mirror, prepared to patch up the wound with a few band aids.
In a moment, she had returned with a small vial. "Fill it up," she directed.
"What are you going to do with my blood?" Harry asked suspiciously.
"I'm setting the wards around the place," Bellatrix explained to him. "Short of a Fidelius charm, blood wards are the best protection. Unless you have someone you trust to be secret keeper that doesn't live here, we're doing blood wards."
Grudgingly, Harry irritated the cut from Lestrange until it was bleeding more freely. He then filled up the vial for Bellatrix before going back to his original goal of patching up the wound. "I'll want to watch what you do with that blood," Harry called after her as he worked as quickly as his could.
"Yeah, whatever," Bellatrix said loudly from the stairs so that he could hear her.
It took Harry only a few moments before his wound was under control. He then dashed to his bedroom, put on his shirt, and then made his way up the stairs to Bellatrix's loft. It had not taken her very long to transform the place. She had several work tables set up at various places and a number of glass cabinets against the walls. Despite this, though, the room still felt relatively open and empty.
She was in the process of filling another vial with her own blood as Harry approached the work table beside which she was standing. "That you're also using your own blood is reassuring," Harry observed as he removed from his pocket the cases of artifacts he had taken from Malfoy Manor. He enlarged them and stacked them on the floor next to another work table.
Bellatrix made no immediate reply as she patched up the cut on her arm. She then took the vials of their blood and mixed them in a larger vial before emptying the blood onto four square-shaped tiles of stone that were carved liberally with runes. Harry leaned over and examined the stone tiles as the blood mixture seeped into them.
"That should do it," Bellatrix announced. "Unless, of course…"
"Unless what?" Harry asked.
"You aren't actually biologically descended from a member of the Black family, are you?" Bellatrix asked.
"No," said Harry. "I'm pretty sure I'm not-at least, I don't think so."
"Well, as long as it isn't a parent, grandparent, or great-grandparent," Bellatrix said, "I think we'll be okay."
"Okay," I think we're good then."
"And I'm not descended from any of your people, right?" Bellatrix said.
"Pretty sure," Harry offered.
"Good," Bellatrix said, smiling faintly. "The wards should work then. In order to pass the wards, the person must be both a Black and, uh, an 'Ashworth' by blood, or have permission from the both of us specifically. Or a mixture. For instance, if you were dumb enough to invite one of my family members, they could pass. Otherwise, they cannot."
"What if we have a spat? Can one of us kick the other out?" Harry asked.
Bellatrix smirked. "As much as I would have enjoyed doing that to you, I didn't want to be caught on the other end. Thus, we're both keyed in whether we're on good terms with each other or not."
"Sounds fine," said Harry. "How much can the wards take from attackers?"
"Quite a bit," said Bellatrix, gathering up the tiles. "But given enough pressure over a certain amount of time, they'll break. The best defense is to make sure the enemy never figures out where to start applying the pressure. In other words, make sure no one follows you home. I've incorporated some other camouflage measures and defenses, but they're not invincible."
"Of course," replied Harry. He eyed her hands where she was holding the ward stones. "Do you need help setting them up?"
"No," Bellatrix said, declining the offer. "It'll only take me a couple of minutes. After I'm done, though, there are a couple of things I'd like to speak with you about."
"All right," Harry agreed as she left the room. He followed her down the stairs and to the living room. She exited through the front door, leaving Harry alone.
Slightly concerned for her safety, Harry proceeded to one of the windows, pushed aside the curtain and peered out into the night. The light in the room made it difficult to see out into the darkness, but he could faintly make Bellatrix out as she proceeded to one of the corners of the property and levitated one of the stones into the air. He wondered why she was putting it in the air, but then remembered that she was renting out the first floor to ambitious entrepreneurs. It wouldn't do to ward against the renters.
Bellatrix disappeared around the back of the building after cloaking the first ward stone with an invisibility spell. After about five minutes, she appeared at the fourth corner, once again in Harry's sight. She set the final stone, and Harry retreated to an armchair. A moment passed and she had returned to the apartment.
"Easier than I expected," Bellatrix commented to Harry. "Stay there, and I'll be right back." She disappeared down the hall and into her bedroom. In no time, she had returned, holding a roll of parchment. She sat down in the matching armchair directly across from Harry. "Since I'm pretty sure I know how this particular conversation will go," Bellatrix announced, "we may as well get it out of the way first."
"Oh?" said Harry, eyeing the parchment warily.
Bellatrix handed the rolled up parchment to Harry. "As you will see, this is our marriage contract." She held up her hand to forestall Harry's reaction. "I've taken the liberty to sign it so that when you finally have your moment of weakness, all that we need is your two signatures-one because you're the groom and one because you're Lord Black."
Harry frowned as he unrolled the parchment and examined the contract. As Bellatrix had stated, her signature was scrawled on one of the bottom lines in bold, purple ink. Two thick, black x's marked the lines where Harry's signature was needed.
"Any chance that this is a moment of weakness?" Bellatrix asked, sounding vaguely hopeful.
Harry looked at her over the top of the parchment, but did not respond. Rather, he turned to examining the provisions of the contract. It took him a few minutes to read. When he was finished, he rolled it up and set it aside. "You're asking for quite a lot."
"Oh?"
"Yeah, I think so."
"What specifically bothers you?" Bellatrix queried.
"Well, for starters I'm not so sure I want to take the surname Black," Harry observed, thinking of his own Potter surname.
"It's better than Ashworth," Bellatrix said. "It's not like you can resume your normal name, whatever it is, and keep your time travel secret."
Harry waved his hand dismissively. "Yeah, and then there's this business about you being equal to me in authority with matters of Black family business."
"Do you want to manage my miserable family?"
"Not really."
"Then you should be grateful that I'm willing to help shoulder the responsibility," Bellatrix said.
"And then you've taken the liberty to practically write out my last will and testament," Harry grumbled.
"If you outlive me, you can do whatever you want with our possessions," Bellatrix said. "However, I refuse to be left widowed and penniless."
"As if I'd do that to you," Harry said.
"Well, good. My having complete claim on everything you own after your death shouldn't bother you, then." Bellatrix said. "There are provisions that protect you. Keeping each other's secrets, not harming each other, and not coercing each other. There's even the clause that says that if I initiate a divorce proceeding, I don't get anything. Harry, it only makes sense now that we're living together. We're practically already married."
"We sleep in separate bedrooms," Harry pointed out. "We're roommates at best."
"You'll give in eventually, Harry," Bellatrix told him. "Your moment of weakness will come."
"Yeah," said Harry in a slightly sarcastic tone, "one day I'll wake up and suddenly decide I can't live another day without marrying you."
Bellatrix rolled her eyes. "I'm not dumb enough to expect that. However, your moment of weakness will come when you suddenly decide you want some. You won't get any until you've signed that contract."
"Want some what?" Harry asked.
"You know," Bellatrix said vaguely. She gave him a seductive look and reached up to partially unbutton her blouse.
Harry caught on. "I see. Well, it's not like I've been chasing you anyway."
"You will be," Bellatrix promised. "By the time I'm finished with you, you'll be begging for the opportunity to sign the contract and get on with our marriage."
"Oh, please," Harry snorted, though deep down he felt a slight twinge of desire, though it was quickly squashed by pure stubbornness. "Let's move on. What else did you want to talk about?"
Bellatrix sighed, but because she had been expecting the outcome anyway, had no trouble jumping to the next topic she wanted to bring up. "I want to know every detail about your interactions with the Chamber of Secrets," Bellatrix told Harry. "I think the diary may be a very important part of understanding the dark lord."
"Well, of course," said Harry. "It was Tom's diary."
"It was more than a diary, Harry. It was a very complex magical artifact that I happen to think is important. I need to know more about it so that I can try to fit it in with what I know about the dark arts. If we're lucky, maybe we can find some information in some of the rarer books we now have in our possession."
"Very well," Harry sighed. "It all began on the night I attended a death day party."
The next morning, Harry switched off the shower water, pushed open the shower curtain, and promptly discovered that Bellatrix had invaded the bathroom while he had been otherwise occupied. Wearing a skimpy set of pajamas, she was leaning over the sink brushing her teeth. As soon as she saw Harry staring at her, she smiled. "Good morning, Harry!"
Harry shot her a dirty look as he snatched his towel and retreated into his bedroom to dry himself and get dressed for the day. If she was going to play this way, he was sure he could withstand it. Grumbling to himself about the issue, Harry finished dressing and headed to the kitchen where he fried up breakfast for the two of them.
He had just seated himself in the dining area of the apartment when she appeared to claim her portion of the meal.
"Were you finished with that?" Bellatrix asked, putting her hand on the edition of the Daily Prophet he had been glancing at between bites of egg, bacon, and potatoes.
Harry looked up and was shocked to see that she was still in a general state of undress. He narrowed his eyes. "Would you like to put some more clothes on, Bellatrix?"
"No, I'm fine," she said, taking the newspaper and sitting down on the other side of the table.
Harry scarfed down the rest of his breakfast and stalked out of the kitchen. Quickly, he checked his appearance in the mirror before gathering a few things. He then proceeded to the front door.
"Where are you going?" Bellatrix called, still eating breakfast and reading the newspaper.
"Out," Harry announced. "See you later."
The closing of the door cut off her reply, undoubtedly a demand to accompany him. That'll show her, Harry smirked. He descended the stairs and exited onto the street. From there, he walked a ways and dodged into an alley from where he apparated to London.
The next several hours were spent wandering around to various government buildings and speaking with Muggle bureaucrats. Their inability to find information or point the way to it was infuriating. Though Harry had never really used a computer in his life, he was beginning to wish that the government of the 1970s had more computers and more digital records.
Eventually, he came across a young lady standing behind a counter who seemed like she might know how Harry could find the information he was seeking. The problem was that she didn't think that strange men lacking Muggle identification should be allowed to ask about the private details of orphans, even if the orphan in question was undoubtedly now an adult.
"Look," said Harry, "I just need to know to which orphanage this particular boy was sent."
"Why?" asked the woman, bringing her hands up to the counter surface and leaning toward Harry, a suspicious look in her eyes.
"It turns out that there is a third cousin on the father's side who passed away just recently. As far as my firm can determine, Mr. Riddle is the nearest living relative who stands to inherit."
"Oh, really? Some long lost uncle left him a fortune, eh? That's original," the woman said snidely, beginning to drum her fingers, ostensibly showing off her wedding ring.
"Actually, it's only about five hundred pounds," Harry said weakly.
"Well, I'm sorry Mr. Polkiss, but we can't just give out that sort of information. It wouldn't be proper."
Harry gritted his teeth and drew his wand, quickly surveying his surroundings to make sure that no one else was watching their exchange. Muttering a spell, he jabbed it at her forehead as she stared at the stick cross-eyed.
"I'm sorry, sir, but that information is simply unavailable," the obnoxious desk clerk lady said dully. "Many records from that time period were lost or are now disorganized, assuming that the information you're seeking was ever recorded. The only option you have is to write to each orphanage in London and inquire whether they know anything of the person for which you are searching."
Bitterly, Harry restrained himself from slapping her hard across the face. If she didn't have access to the information, why had she put Harry through all of the rigmarole of identifying himself and explaining just why he had a legitimate need to know the information?
"Get me a list of and address for every orphanage that was open at the time period," Harry growled.
"Right away, sir," the woman said, retreating.
Harry felt slightly guilty for using the minor compulsion charm on her, but really, it was for a good cause. There would be no lasting effects. Eventually, Harry had the requested list and retreated. He proceeded to a stationery shop where he bought a sheet of paper. In a corner of the shop, he quickly scrawled a generic letter requesting information about Tom Marvolo Riddle.
When the shop owner wasn't looking, Harry rapidly used magic to duplicate the letter. Each copy of the letter was then imbued with a confundus charm of sorts. Whoever read the letter would be extremely cooperative. Harry then visited a post office where he bought the necessary postage and rented a box in which he could receive the replies. With that, the letters were soon on their way.
That night, after scarfing down the remains of the Chinese takeout that Bellatrix had bought when it had become clear that Harry wouldn't be home in time to cook dinner, Harry returned to the familiar pub in Knockturn Alley.
Upon entering, Harry instantly sensed that the atmosphere was different than it had been during his previous visits. The barkeep was clearly doing his level best to avoid eye contact with anybody inside of his pub. Those who were typically rowdy were acting quite subdued. Frowning, Harry glanced around for his standby buddy, Thorpe.
Spotting Thorpe huddled in a booth, Harry made his way over and sat down, signaling the barkeep that he'd like ale. "What's the latest?" Harry, using the persona of Big D, muttered in a scratchy voice.
"Not much," Thorpe grunted. He nodded over to another corner of the pub where a pair of wizards clad in dark robes were speaking in low tones to one of the more disagreeable pub regulars. "Recruiting."
Harry arched his eyebrows to visually show a response to Thorpe's comments. He felt a small rush of adrenaline as he realized that this could be his change to come into contact with the Death Eaters who were recruiting people to look for him.
"What kind of recruiting?" Harry asked quietly.
Thorpe shrugged. "Couldn't say," he observed. "Time to go home, I think." With that, he stood and tossed a sickle on the table to cover his tab before leaving.
The barkeep brought over Harry's ale and then retreated back behind the bar into blissful ignorance.
Harry sat alone with a bemused expression on his face as he contemplated Thorpe's early departure from his night at the pub. He was just about to push the ale tankard away when a shadow fell over the table. Harry glanced up and found himself looking into the face of Rabastan Lestrange.
"Big D, is it?" Rabastan said.
"Yes," answered Harry coolly, sticking to the persona he had created for himself when visiting the pub. Furtively, he glanced over to where now only one wizard in a dark robe was speaking to the disagreeable pub patron.
Rabastan sat down, attempting to do so in a manner that suggested he was tougher than Harry. However, Harry could sense that the young Death Eater was extremely nervous. "Heard you did some time in Azkaban."
"I did," Harry said, reaching for the ale and taking a swig.
"Those dementors are pretty tough creatures," Rabastan said.
"Uh-huh," Harry said, eyeing Rabastan impatiently.
Harry's impatience goaded Rabastan into action. "My friends and I are looking for a wizard. If you have some time and an inclination to earn some gold, we'd like to have your help."
"I see," Harry said. "What happens when this wizard is found, pray tell?"
"Nothing. That's when the job is over for you. You find him and then summon us."
"Sounds easy enough."
"It is," Rabastan said, gaining a measure of confidence. He withdrew a card from his pocket and handed it to Harry. "This is the bloke."
Harry accepted the card and found that his picture was on it. The picture was a reproduction from the Daily Prophet article detailing his heroics in Diagon Alley from around the time he had arrived in the past.
"His name is Harry Ashworth. He's been avoiding public notice of late, but seeing that he is a wizard, it isn't exactly easy for him to avoid Diagon Alley. Keep an eye out. If you spot him, follow him, but do not confront him. You can tap your wand to the card and we'll come and give you gold for locating him. Simple enough?"
Harry nodded. "It is simple, but shouldn't you be trying beyond Diagon Alley? You might have more success."
Rabastan shrugged. "If you think you can trace him outside of Diagon Alley, be my guest. All I can say is that the gold goes to whoever finds him first."
"Right," Harry said, pocketing the card. "I'll keep a lookout wherever I go. He won't miss my notice."
You didn't say that we were going to go meet some crazy auror," Bellatrix growled as she and Harry stood next to the tube station where Harry and Moody had originally met after Harry's discharge from Hogwarts. Bellatrix was dressed in an expensive Muggle dress and had done her hair up using the hair ornament that had brought Harry to the past.
"Does it matter?" Harry asked. "Dinner is dinner."
"I thought it was a date."
"It can be a date," Harry replied absently, looking in the crowds passing by them for any sign of the auror. He wanted to spot Moody before Moody spotted him, even though Moody clearly had the advantage.
"No it can't, not if there's some auror watching us the whole time!" Bellatrix retorted.
"Why do we need to have dates?" Harry asked. "If I want to marry you, all I have to do is sign the contract. It saves me the trouble of courtship. I don't know why I was so uncomfortable with the contract idea. It actually saves me quite a bit of effort."
"You know, I could slap you," Bellatrix said.
Alastor Moody's arrival pre-empted Harry's retort. "I see you brought Miss Black with you," the auror observed by way of greeting.
"Yeah," Harry replied. "I know you probably had your heart set on that place we ate at last time, but Bella seems to feel that we should go somewhere more fancy." Conspiratorially, he whispered, "She thought it was a date."
Moody smiled crookedly, "Lead the way."
They were soon seated at a table in a somewhat posh London restaurant. Moody's attire was drawing the negative attention of many patrons while Bellatrix's attire was drawing the notice of every male. Oblivious, she was sulkily examining the menu as Moody did his best to pry information from Harry.
"What is it that prompted you to schedule our meeting?" Moody asked, sipping a glass of water. "I don't suppose you've discovered anything about the dark lord's past."
"I have, actually," Harry said. "His name was Tom Riddle."
"Tom Riddle, eh?" Moody said. "I don't recall Riddle being a magical family name. I thought we'd be dealing with a pureblood."
"Yes, one of the ironies associated with him," Harry smiled. "I think he's a half-blood, but I'll have to get back to you on that. I'll be researching his early life. In fact, I already have a couple of leads."
Harry didn't precisely. He was still waiting for responses from the orphanages. A couple had replied quickly and asserted they knew nothing of Tom Riddle, but the majority had not yet responded. "It might be helpful if you dug around in his more recent past," Harry said. "You might have access to records of what he's done once he arrived at Hogwarts, or left."
"Of course," Moody said, thinking that Dumbledore was sure to know everything there was to know of any student who passed through Hogwarts. The Ministry would also have useful records.
The server arrived and took their orders. Prompted by Harry's prior stipulation that he'd cover the bill, Moody ordered a generous portion for himself. Bellatrix, prompted by other reasons, did likewise. Harry followed suit, but felt deep down that just because one had money didn't mean that one had to spend it extravagantly.
The conversation then continued while they waited for the server to return with their meals. "There's another reason that I wanted to meet with you," Harry announced.
"Really?" Moody asked.
"How would you like the opportunity to capture some of these dark lord followers and take them in for questioning? I reckon you could learn quite a bit from them if you could find cause to administer a truth serum."
"Obviously, I'd love the opportunity," Moody said, "but they would have to be caught during or after their committing a crime. At this point, mere allegiance to this dark lord is not sufficient justification for arresting them."
"What?" Bellatrix exclaimed. "Killing my father isn't sufficient for their arrest?"
Moody grunted. "I'm not saying that the murder of your father isn't sufficient cause for arrest, but with the exception of the dark lord himself and Lucius Malfoy, we don't know the identity of anyone else who was present that night."
"Pussyfooters," Bellatrix muttered.
"What was it that you were thinking of, Mr. Ashworth?" Moody said, attempting to return focus to the conversation.
Harry withdrew the card given to him by Rabastan Lestrange from his pocket and showed it to Moody long enough for the auror to see his picture on it. He then pocketed the card. "The dark lord's followers are looking to capture me. They've been distributing these cards to some of the more seedy sorts in the magical world. If I'm spotted, they're to activate the card. The card will summon some of the dark lord's followers. They will then attempt to capture me."
"And you got your hands on one of the cards. Well done, Mr. Ashworth," Moody said.
"My thought is that we could find a nice, secluded place for an ambush. Someone activates the card while I'm walking around, clearly vulnerable, all while you and the aurors are hiding. The dark lord's minions show up and you nail them before they even know what happened. You'd then have a handful of wizards and possibly witches who have been caught in the act of assaulting me."
"I like it," Moody observed. "I like it a lot. Clearly, they would only be lackeys. We'd be obligated to investigate who it was that hired them. A little bit of pressure, and they might confess that their intent was to kidnap you. Conspiracy to kidnap is far more serious than just assault."
"You don't need to pressure them into admitting the idea was to kidnap Harry," Bellatrix said. "I think we've already got enough proof on that."
"This is true," Moody said.
Their meals arrived and conversation ceased until the server had finished placing plates on the table and had retreated. "As soon as we're done eating," Harry said, "let's go out and find a place and schedule a time for this little ambush."
A couple of mornings later, Harry finished his shower, dried off, and got dressed. He then used his wand to undo the complicated locking charm he had placed on the door to ensure his privacy. He opened the door to find Bellatrix wearing only a bra and knickers. She was clearly annoyed that he had locked the door.
"Morning," Harry said cheerfully. "Don't take too long in the shower. If I have to leave without you, I will."
Bellatrix scowled at him, but said nothing. Harry had stubbornly resisted her attempts to entice Harry into a more intimate relationship. His proactive stance to avoiding her wiles had made it difficult for her to pursue the campaign without losing her dignity
Harry made his way to the kitchen where he made breakfast and served himself. Bellatrix, fully dressed, though her hair was wet, soon arrived and ate quickly. Harry had received a reply from a Mrs. Cole, matron of an orphanage, who recalled that Tom Riddle had once been one of her charges. Harry had contacted her and arranged a meeting. Bellatrix, of course, had insisted on going with him.
The pair were soon prepared to leave and promptly apparated from the main living room to a secluded alley in London. Their unorthodox arrival unnoticed by the Muggles, they stepped into the daily sidewalk traffic and walked the rest of the way to the orphanage Lord Voldemort had once called home.
They were shown from the orphanage's central reception into the private office of Mrs. Cole, who was responsible for maintaining the orphanage. She greeted them. "Mr. Ashworth," she said, addressing Harry, "it's nice to meet you. I hope I can be of help."
Harry glanced over to her desk and spotted the letter he had written and charmed. Apparently, her reading it in anticipation of the appointment had helped to make her helpful. "Yes," Harry said casually, "I think you can help. My… wife and I are looking for information about Tom Riddle."
Bellatrix arched one of her eyebrows at the term 'wife.' Harry mentally shrugged. He had been prepared to say business associate, but she wasn't quite dressed as a businesswoman. Wife would have to do. It gave them a certain measure of legitimacy anyhow. How likely was it that a man and his wife would be going around to orphanages and making inquiries for nefarious reasons?
Mrs. Cole nodded and they all sat down. With no further ado, Mrs. Cole began telling them everything she could about Tom Riddle with the addition of speculation and any conclusions she could infer from what she knew. She began with the basics-his name, his parents, how he had come to the orphanage, etc. Eventually, she moved onto how he got along with the other children.
"As he got older, nasty things began to happen to children he didn't get along with. It was very difficult for us to understand how some of the things could have happened," Mrs. Cole explained.
"I see," Harry said, finding this nasty nature hardly surprising. The mysterious nasty mishaps could also be easily explained by accidental magic, too.
"Was there a pattern to any of these nasty behaviors?" Bellatrix askd.
"I'm not sure what you mean," Mrs. Cole said.
"Well, for instance, was he cruel in the same way, did he have a pattern for victimizing the other children?"
Mrs. Cole shook her head as she tried to think back to the earlier days of Tom Riddle. "Every bad thing that happened tended to be different. You could say he was creative."
"Okay," said Bellatrix, "but was there ever an underlying strategy? Something that connected the things he did even though they were different?"
"He would only directly enter a confrontation if he believed he had the upper hand," Mrs. Cole said, frowning intently as she searched her mind for any helpful information. "He would also steal."
"Steal?" Harry asked.
"Trophies, I guess," Mrs. Cole said. "It seemed he often stole items from the other children he had bullied. In a way, they were his trophies. He had a twisted sort of sentimentality, you could say."
"Can you tell us anything more about this sentimentality?" Bellatrix asked intently.
"Well, items and places seemed of supreme importance to him. He was also obsessed with his parentage. He asked me on more than one occasion to help him find information about his father. I always tried, but it was difficult, especially in those times."
"I understand the obsession with items, and I already knew about his obsession with his father, but I'm not sure what you mean by places," Harry mused out loud.
Mrs. Cole shrugged. "We'd take the children to visit various places for a little holiday, you know. Lots of them would buy postcards or souvenirs. He'd buy postcards, but it would be different. It was as if somehow, the place he had visited would become his. It was the same with various locations around the orphanage. You might say he was very territorial."
"Okay," said Harry, vaguely understanding.
"Yes," said Mrs. Cole, "very territorial and possessive. Also very ambitious."
"Indeed," Bellatrix said.
"Whatever became of him?" Mrs. Cole asked.
Evening found Harry and Bellatrix at another posh London restaurant. Bellatrix had dressed in another fancy dress and had put her hair up with the familiar hair ornament. She seemed determined for Harry to court her. He had acquiesced and formally designated their outing as a date. He was even vaguely enjoying himself. The food was nice and Bellatrix's company was pleasant.
Ironically, Bellatrix could not stop thinking about the Voldemort situation. So, although Harry was prepared to engage in light and flirtatious conversation or even deep soul-searching query, her mind just was not on him or romance.
"I think," Bellatrix declared, "that the diary was a horcrux."
"A horcrux?" Harry asked. "What's that?"
Briefly, Bellatrix explained the details of how a wizard or witch could split their soul and place part of it into an object. Theoretically, any object would do, but in practice, one didn't incase a soul inside of an empty egg carton or pop can. Rather, the items were other living beings or highly magical objects.
"What you've told me about the diary and the incidents during your second year at Hogwarts point to the fact that the diary was a horcrux," Bellatrix said. "I had considered the possibility a few days ago and set it aside so I could research other possibilities, but after speaking with Mrs. Cole, I think the horcrux situation fits the dark lord most accurately."
"How do you mean?" Harry asked, intrigued.
"She said he took trophies from people. He's obsessed with objects and with places and with immortality. The horcrux is an object that can be secreted in a highly personalized place for protection. It renders the person practically immortal."
"How does it fit with taking trophies?" Harry said.
Bellatrix sighed. "To make a horcrux, you must kill someone in cold blood. If this dark lord is as evil as you say, stealing something from them, killing them, and turning the object into a horcrux would fit him exactly."
"I suppose that he did kill Myrtle," Harry observed, "though I doubt he stole the diary from her."
"I suppose so," Bellatrix said, "but it still fits, doesn't it?"
"I think so," Harry said. "I guess we'll have to find the diary, won't we?"
Bellatrix shrugged. "He probably hasn't given it to Lucius Malfoy for safe keeping yet. We should probably try to retrace some of his steps and find where he might have chosen to hide horcruxes or try to identify what objects he might have transformed into horcruxes."
"You're talking as if there's more than one horcrux," Harry said.
"Well, think about it, Harry. He's a maniac. You observed Rodolphus Lestrange making attempts to locate and purchase valuable, magic items at antique shops. Do you seriously think he'd stop at one horcrux? I wouldn't."
"Good point," Harry mused. "He'd probably hide them in locations important to him."
"Do you have any ideas?"
Harry nodded. "There's a town called Little Hangleton."
"Mrs. Cole said that his mother came from there," Bellatrix reminded Harry. "She was a Gaunt."
"Yes," said Harry, recalling that Voldemort had referred to the house Harry had visited Voldemort in as the Gaunt estate. "Did the Gaunts have an estate in Little Hangleton?"
Bellatrix snorted. "I should think not. They were a very poor, albeit pretentious family."
"Perhaps the Riddle house," Harry said, recalling his visit to the graveyard and some of Voldemort's comments. "It seemed like a ruin when I saw it in the future. If you wanted to hide something there, it would be pretty easy.
"Maybe we should pay a visit," Bellatrix observed.
It so happened that the ambush plotted by Harry and Moody was scheduled for that same evening. Harry and Bellatrix proceeded directly from dinner to the dark alley the three of them had selected a few nights previous. Harry had offered to stop at their flat so Bellatrix could change into something more appropriate, but she had declined, pointing out that Moody was bound to have so many aurors there that the capture would be affected almost before the hostilities could have a chance to break out.
"You're late," Moody growled.
"No, we're not," Bellatrix retorted. "Besides, they don't come until Harry activates the card. This is completely under our control."
"That isn't the only factor," Moody complained. He turned to Harry. "All right, my men are in position." He pointed to a sidewalk. "Go there. Activate the card on my signal, and then start walking. As soon as they show up, we'll activate the preset anti-apparition and portkey wards. Once they've arrived, there's nothing they can do to get out."
Bellatrix yawned and watched as Harry followed Moody's instructions. Moody guided her down an alley and instructed her to stay in place during the attack. He then walked back to the opening of the alley from where he signaled Harry to activate the card before placing himself under a disillusionment spell.
A few moments passed and then the staccato of several apparition pops sounded, echoing down the alley. After a brief pause, the fight erupted as the aurors attempted to take custody of the Death Eaters who had come to kidnap Harry. It was over in a few moments. Once the sounds of spellfire ceased, Bellatrix emerged from the alley to find that the aurors had captured five of Lord Voldemort's followers.
Harry was standing nearly twenty feet away from where most of the fight had happened. His wand was drawn and pointed toward the fifth attacker while the aurors were securing the other four and preparing them for transportation to the Ministry holding cells. It was Rodolphus Lestrange. Feeling slightly annoyed that Harry had gotten the opportunity to participate in the fight without her, Bellatrix strode over to Harry and Rodolphus and scowled down at the wizard her mother and aunt had wanted her to marry.
"You killed Orion, didn't you?" Bellatrix said.
Rodolphus smirked at her. "It wouldn't be very wise of me to admit that now, would it? Besides, it doesn't matter if I did. Someone would have done it eventually. He was in the dark lord's way. There's also the fact that your aunt is so… cooperative when it comes to the dark lord's ambitions."
Bellatrix lashed out and kicked Rodolphus in the groin. Harry winced and smirked alternatively. Seeing Moody approaching from the corner of her eye, Bellatrix took the last private moment between her and Lestrange and hissed a parting message, "If you ever see my aunt again, you can tell her that I'm coming for her. Wherever she walks, she can worry that I'm around the next corner, ready to gut her."
Through the pain he was feeling, Rodolphus snickered as Moody approached, carrying a set of magic-inhibiting handcuffs. "I'm sure it will make you feel a lot better about everything."
Bellatrix went to kick him again, but Moody put a hand on her shoulder and retrained her. "Should've gotten that one in before I got closer," he said, smiling crookedly before placing the cuffs on Lestrange and stunning him unconscious.
Moody turned to Harry. "I'm surprised we got as many as five. I think they will prove very useful indeed. I can use them to try and get more information about the Dark Lord, and Minister Prewitt will no doubt use them to increase his political capital and influence the population against the dark lord's cause.
"Good," said Harry. "I might need to lay low for a bit. The dark lord isn't going to be happy about this."
Moody laughed raucously. "I should think not."
"You might also want to make sure Azkaban is secure," Harry suggested. "The dementors are the natural allies of dark lords. You wouldn't want him to break out his followers and get the dementors in one swoop."
"I don't know that these five are that valuable," Moody observed.
Harry glanced over at the other four unconscious prisoners. "I don't suppose you got Malfoy."
"No, I'm afraid not," Moody said.
Harry nodded. It looked like the aurors were ready to transport their prisoners. "I'll have to get with you later this week, Moody. We've found some clues that indicate that the dark lord may have taken certain steps to render himself nigh unto immortal. We'll poke around between now and then. Hopefully I can give you more concrete details when we next meet."
"Make sure you don't wait for a long time before contacting me," Moody growled. "I want details as soon as possible."
"No worries," Harry said. "It's not like I have all that much else to do these days."
Via apparition and portkey, the aurors departed with their prisoners, leaving Harry and Bellatrix standing alone.
"This is kind of anticlimactic," Bellatrix observed. "You'd think that after pulling off such a successful ambush we'd feel more successful.
Harry shrugged. "Small and successful battles can win the war."
Bellatrix nodded. "Yes, of course." There was a little bit of a silence before she spoke again. "Let's take a look at the Riddle house in Little Hangleton. You said that now that those five have been captured, you'd have to lay low. Maybe we can get away with a quick peek before Voldemort finds out."
"I doubt he'd come after me immediately for the ambush," Harry said. "When I said lay low, I meant that I'd probably want to avoid places like Diagon Alley for a while. They might double their efforts. Besides, I'm sure Voldemort knows by now, anyway."
Bellatrix shrugged. "Well maybe if he's distracted by this he will be less likely to worry about our visits to potential hiding places. I think it would be worth visiting Little Hangleton to see if our theory is correct."
Harry nodded, thinking back to how he had been taken to Little Hangleton during the final task of the Triwizard Tournament. Voldemort had sought refuse there as he waited for the opportunity to use Harry's blood in the ritual to restore him to his proper body. "Let's go then."
Harry and Bellatrix trudged toward Riddle Manor. Their visit to what the locals swigging ale in the pub had called the old Gaunt Shack had yielded nothing. It appeared that it was indeed the same place Harry had visited when meeting Voldemort. It was now abandoned. Apparently the hole Harry had blown in the wall or the fact that Harry knew its location or both had led Voldemort to abandon the place. On the other hand, a cursory inspection had revealed that it was not nearly as comfortable a residence as Harry had been led to believe. Voldemort had used charms to superficially remodel the place. Likely, the dark lord had used it only as an out of the way meeting place. Considering its low value and compromised nature, there was no good use for it.
Despite Harry doubting that Voldemort would hide anything in the place, he and Bellatrix had searched for any magically concealed objects. They had found nothing and had opted to proceed to Riddle Manor by way of the graveyard. Harry didn't explain the significance of the graveyard beyond showing Bellatrix where Voldemort's father was buried.
"I still think we should have stopped off at the flat and changed your clothes," Harry said, eyeing Bellatrix in her dress. She had long since removed her heels and was now carrying them. Her hair which had been immaculate at dinner was now quite nearly a mess.
Seeing Harry glance at her hair, Bellatrix reached up and tried to adjust it, removing the hair ornament and replacing it. "We're only taking a look," she said. "It's not like we're doing a major excavation here. Besides, if we're caught trespassing by anybody, we can just say that we got lost."
"Whatever," Harry said as they reached a door into the manor. Though the house was vacant and practically condemned, the door seemed to hold firm. A quick spell undid the lock. Harry and Bellatrix entered the abandoned manor, shutting the door behind them.
"Lumos," Bellatrix breathed, holding out her wand.
There was dust everywhere. The air itself was stale and dead. There had been no life in the house for a while. Harry searched his memories and recalled that Voldemort had mentioned something about killing his Muggle father. How long ago had it been? Surely not so long that the dust would be this bad. On the other hand, things did get dirty quickly. Harry realized that maybe he should have looked at the date on the tombstone when they had passed it. Perhaps he could check on the way out.
Harry and Bellatrix walked through the house. Each door they had to open creaked loudly. Harry winced each time even though he knew that there probably wasn't a soul within a mile or two to hear the noise. Eventually, they moved upstairs after finding nothing that smacked of a magical hiding place on the ground floor.
The upper floor seemed to consist primarily of bedrooms and a couple of came to a room at the end of the hall after methodically searching the other rooms. The room appeared to be the master bedroom. Harry went to enter, but Bellatrix's arm shot out in front of him.
"No," she said. "There's dark magic here."
"What do you mean?" Harry said. "How can you detect it?"
"I've used enough of it to feel the affinity-especially when blood was involved. There was a lot of blood here. I think someone may have been killed." Bellatrix said.
Harry nodded. "I guess I should have told you. Tom's father went and married someone other than Tom's mother. I guess Tom came and killed them all one night."
Bellatrix nodded, staring intently into the room. "I think we've got evidence that our theory may be correct. He could have made a horcrux and hidden it here, too. He may have even used an object that belonged to the family."
"Perhaps," Harry conceded, beginning to feel a faint tinge of excitement. If Bellatrix was right, then he had already made more progress against Voldemort than the Order ever had in his version of the future.
"I don't know if we can get past the dark magic safely," Bellatrix said, but I can cast a diagnostic spell to see what we're up against. If it's so bad that we can't do anything, we can come back later and be more prepared.
"All right," Harry said.
Bellatrix drew her wand, stepped back from the room a little bit, and delicately waved her wand at the room. A sluggish shockwave white light emanated from her wand and pushed into the room. It revealed a myriad of colors and spell weaves, as well as a number of runes on the floor.
"That's pretty bad," Harry observed, not needing Bellatrix's professional opinion to assess the severity of dark magic protecting whatever it was Voldemort was hiding.
"I think we're going to need help getting past all of this," Bellatrix sighed.
"I see," Harry said, his brow furrowed. "What does it take to destroy a horcrux?"
"I'm not sure," Bellatrix admitted. "I probably should have researched that more extensively. I can do it later, before we come back."
"I'm just thinking that fiendfyre is pretty effective," Harry observed. "I could set the house alight and it might destroy the horcrux if it is on the premises. If it doesn't, won't the fiendfyre burn through the materials to which the dark magic protecting the horcrux is anchored? Then we'd be able to retrieve the horcrux out of the ashes."
"That's a pretty good idea," Bellatrix said. "But if we burn down the entire house and the horcrux is susceptible to fiendfyre, we'll never know whether there was a horcrux."
"I didn't think of that," Harry grumbled.
"Here's an idea," Bellatrix said. "How well are you able to control fiendfyre?"
"Pretty well, if I'm not magically tired," Harry responded.
"Why don't you send a burst of fiendfyre into the room?" Bellatrix suggested. "Just enough to burn a centimeter or so off of every surface. That could destroy the wards. We then can assess whether that helped the situation any."
"Good plan," Harry said. He drew his wand as Bellatrix stepped further back from the entrance.
Harry took aim and let loose a wave of fiendfyre. Almost as soon as he cast it, Harry jerked back his wand, twisted it, and attempted to turn the fiendfyre in on itself. It proved difficult, and Harry was sweating profusely by the time he had extinguished it.
Bellatrix examined the damages as Harry caught his breath. "Looks like you may have ended up burning two or three centimeters. It was to be expected, though. Fiendfyre isn't exactly a precision tool."
"Did it do any good?" Harry asked.
Bellatrix was just in the process of casting the diagnostic charm when Harry's scar began to twinge rather intensely. Without wasting a moment, Harry grabbed Bellatrix and attempted to apparated the two of them away from the Riddle house. Unfortunately, there seemed to be anti-apparition wards in place.
"What's wrong?" Bellatrix gasped, knowing only that Harry had attempted and failed to apparate them away.
"Voldemort is here," Harry said tersely.
The tinge grew stronger. Knowing that Voldemort must be in the house, Harry looked toward the staircase and cast a reducto charm. It hurled toward the staircase and the wall beyond, but was abruptly blocked by a shield. A stunner came Harry's way as both Harry and Bellatrix dropped to the floor.
As soon as it passed, Harry shifted and aimed in the darkness toward Voldemort's apparent location. "Expelliarmus!" Harry yelled, resulting to his old standby. In the air, Harry's disarming spell met with a killing curse from Voldemort. The wands being brothers resulted in the Priori Incantatem effect. Harry and Voldemort's wands connected. Red light shot from Harry's wand and green from Voldemort's.
The spell beams lit up the hallway, revealing clearly Voldemort's position next to the top of the staircase and highlighting Harry's unfortunate position on the floor. Determination showed on Harry's face while what might have been fear and consternation showed on Voldemort's
"Who are you, Harry Ashworth?" Voldemort cried above the roaring of the spell beams and the echo of phoenix song. "How did you know of this place?"
Knowing that his focus was essential to winning the Priori Incantatem battle, Harry declined to reply, but focused on pushing the center of the beams toward Voldemort's wand.
It was not merely a duel between Harry and Voldemort, however. Bellatrix was there, too. "Avada Kedavra!" Bellatrix screamed. A green ball of light zipped toward Voldemort. Narrowly, he dodged, wincing as it exploded into the wall, sending shards of plaster and wood flying back.
The connection between the two wands broke-partially because of Voldemort's dodging Bellatrix's killing curse and partially of his own volition, for he had realized that he was losing the Priori Incantatem battle to Harry.
"Avada Kedavra," Bellatrix yelled again and again.
Harry watched as Voldemort nimbly dodged Bellatrix's killing curses. "Keep it up," Harry told her, hoping that Bellatrix heard.
Resulting once again to fiendfyre, Harry cast it toward Voldemort. If it caught the house of fire, it would be difficult for Voldemort to dodge both the fire and the killing curses. Perhaps if one of Bellatrix's killing curses hit home, Voldemort would be left in condition similar to how he had been after having failed to kill Harry. That would give him and Bellatrix enough time to search out the rest of the horcruxes. Then, they could go straight to Albania where Harry knew Voldemort was wont to hide.
Between dodging Bellatrix's curses and Harry's fiendfyre, it was difficult for Voldemort to fire countercurses, but he was not about to give up. There was too much at stake. He began to retreat down the stairs. Harry and Bellatrix pressed forward, keeping pace as Bellatrix fired curse after curse toward the dark lord.
Seeing that Voldemort was retreating and seeing that the fiendfyre was proving very distracting for Voldemort, Harry realized that if he could distract Voldemort even more, then perhaps the dark lord would lose focus and get hit by one of Bellatrix's curses. With a faint smile of hope, Harry wildly began casting reducto curses at the wall and even toward Voldemort. Debris from the damages began to pile up. With an extremely broad sweep of his wand, Harry banished everything that wasn't human or held down toward Voldemort. Let the dark lord try to dodge that, the fiendfyre, and a few killing curses, Harry smirked as he watched the debris lift in the air and began zooming toward Voldemort.
A sudden cry of surprise from Bellatrix alerted Harry to the fact that something had gone wrong. He glanced back toward her and saw her clutching her hair. Her hairdo had fallen because the hair ornament was no longer in it. Harry gasped and spun back toward Voldemort. He spotted among the debris flying toward Voldemort the magical hairpin.
Before Harry could calculate the possible severity of what had just happened, Voldemort, no longer being forced to dodge Bellatrix's killing curses, jabbed his wand forward and let loose a shockwave blast followed by a banishing charm of his own. Harry's own charm was easily cancelled and the debris Harry had created zoomed toward Harry and Bellatrix at lightning speed.
The wood and plaster smacked into Harry and Bellatrix, cutting up their bodies while Bellatrix feebly tried to cast a shield charm. And then, abruptly, Harry gasped as he felt the hairpin plunge into his stomach. Suddenly feeling weak, he fell toward the floor. Dimly he could hear Bellatrix hysterically screaming defiance as Voldemort laughed and shouted the incantation for fiendfyre.
Bellatrix shot several more killing curses toward the dark lord, but it was unnecessary. Voldemort was retreating, already having written Harry and Bellatrix off as dead. Sobbing, Bellatrix dropped down next to Harry and grabbed the hairpin.
"No," Harry gasped weakly, instinctively knowing that ripping it out could do more damage.
Before either could do anything more, dizziness overcame them both.
END OF PART ONE
The One with the Power to vanquish the Dark Lord shall come… he who is marked the equal of the Dark Lord… he who is tied to the Daughter of the Stars and has altered her path in the heavens… from the seat of the Blacks he will haunt the Dark Lord's paths and have power the Dark Lord knows not… and One must die at the hands of the other, for neither can live while the other survives. The One with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord shall come… ~Sybill Trelawney
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AlexanderBlackfyre
AlexanderBlackfyre You can read advanced chapters of "Echoes of Destiny" on my Patreon at [patreon.com/AlexanderBlackfyre]. Join us there to explore more of Harry and Bellatrix's thrilling journey in this alternate universe!
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