Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Another Life ❯ Hickory, Dickory, Dock ( Chapter 9 )
Non Anime: Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst | Type: Divergence | Uploaded On: 06.06.2006 | Pages: 2 | Words: 2.7K | Visits: 479 | Status: Completed
Warnings: Yaoi/Slash, Angst, DARK themes, Backstabbing, Incest, Yuri/Fem-slash, and other various nastiness. Hard R rating.
Disclaimer: Ain't mine.
Hickory, Dickory, Dock
Remus hadn’t been in the house for three days. Harry didn’t ask. Snape didn’t explain.
Still, the absence was felt. There was no one to watch the nightly ritural. No one to smile for no reason except that no one else did. No chamomile tea brewing in the kitchen. No new slabs of chocolate waiting in the refrigerator.
Harry paused by every window, looking out for a figure that was never there. He was confused, almost hurt, but he didn’t try to understand these feelings. He pushed them away, laying them in his secret box of emotions and locking them out. Another time, he might open the box, but he couldn’t afford to now. Not yet.
At the end of the third day, a package appeared on the house’s doorstep. Inside was a small pendant and a note. Snape tested the pendant thoroughly for curses and found nothing but a musical spell, set to trigger when one held the stone in the palm of their hand. It didn’t work until Harry picked it up from the table. The quiet, almost sorrowful voice of a man sang so very gently with the sweet melody and Harry found himself mouthing the words.
‘A gentle breeze from Hushabye Mountain…softly blows o'er lullaby bay… It fills the sails of boats that are waiting…waiting to sail your worries away…’
He didn’t know why the lullaby was so very familiar to him, not how the words spilled into his mind. He didn’t mind not knowing though, and cherished the song itself.
The note had no signature, but Snape had a suspicious of who had sent it. There were three words in an elegant script he found unnervingly familiar.
‘I love you,’ said the note of a mother long gone.
As the days of Remus’ absence went on, Snape wandered his home with the tone of a man thoroughly disgusted with himself. He knew he should have used more discretion in revealing Harry’s father, that it had been completely against his own principles to let anger force his hand and deliver such news without care. His arms were still marked with bruises where Remus’ fingers dug into his skin.
The werewolf looked like he’d been slapped. And then he was gone and no one had heard from him. The Order was in shambles. Half of them wanted to kill him for driving Remus away and the others were simply too worried about Remus to hate him. For the moment.
He told them the argument had been about Black. No word of Harry’s parentage had been spoken. Most of them took his lie for truth, but a few saw through him, or at least thought they did. Moody was convinced he’d killed Remus and buried the body so no one would find him. Tonks thought much the same and gave him the foulest glare she could muster. Red hair and fiery eyes included.
And then there was Dumbledore and his disconcerting blue eyes. Dumbledore knew he was lying.
He didn’t know how much longer the Headmaster would let it go before confronting him finally.
With a sign, Snape resigned himself to the fact that he would have to tell the man at some time about Voldemort and Harry’s relationship. He didn’t much care
“My Lord!”
Voldemort lifted his head, gazing disdainfully at the robed figure before him. His eyes narrowing, he set down the scroll he had been working on and got up, towering over his underling. The man trembled and dropped his eyes.
“Why have you disturbed me?” Lord Voldemort asked in a low, seething voice. Another visible shudder went down the man’s back.
“M-My Lord, we have caught one of your enemies! Minor, yes, but still filled with information about Dumbledore! We have seen him near the man and-”
“Where?” was the interrupted order. The crimson eyes took a decidedly colder look.
“Held in the dungeon, my Lord, with -”
Lord Voldemort had already taken leave of him. Striding down the hallways, his robes billowing out behind him, he strode past the guards of the dungeon, barely recognizing them, much less listening to their muttered greetings.
In the last cell was what might have been a wizard at one point. Instead, he had been wasted to the point of being barely human at all, resting against the corner with wild, defiant eyes staring out of dirty hair. His robes were ripped and torn, soiled by blood and dirt. What skin could be made out through the layer of filth was bruised and battered. Lord Voldemort sneered at the sight and turned to one of the guards.
“How long have we had this man?”
“T-Two days, my Lord. We found him wandering aimlessly.”
Crimson eyes narrowed dangerously, but he already knew why he hadn’t been informed before. His visits to the Malfoy mansion. He looked at the shivering wreck of a man and decided.
“Take him to Malfoy,” he ordered coldly. The wild eyes widened a fraction before he was spelled. unconscious. “She will detain him until he is ready to be questioned.”
Their lord left quickly after.
“At least we don’t gotta deal with him,” muttered on guard, glaring at the still body.
“Yeah. Poor Malfoy has to get her dainty little fingers dirty for once,” sneered the other. He gave the man on the floor a sharp kick just for the hell of it before getting him ready for transport.
A few short hours later, the prisoner was given over to Narcissa Malfoy. She called the house elves to her and set about cleaning the man up and dressing his wounds. She felt disgusted with the range of bruises and recognized spell damage, but didn’t let this stop her from directing the elves in their duties. Soon enough, the cleaned and tended to man was set into a guest room to rest.
The prisoner slept until well into the night. Then his various, half healed wounds brought him back to a pained consciousness. He opened his eyes and was immediately met with the shape of a man leaning over his bed. Neither spoke for a long time, staring at one another. Slowly, the bedridden prisoner began to make out the other man’s features, recognizing him before he spoke.
“…Moony?”
Even with the lullaby stone held tightly in his hand, tucked under his chin, singing that sweet melody, Harry dreamed.
The door shut with a definitive click that sent him into sudden alertness. He drug his trunk and Hedwig’s cage to the stairwell, but the trunk was wrenched from his hand before he could take it to his room. Vernon gave him a glare and he quickly went up with Hedwig. He set her cage on the desk and tried not to be bothered by the loss of his things.
The footsteps on the stairs sent a shiver down his spine. There was expectation and danger in the air but he didn’t know why. He sat down on the bed and stared at the door. The footsteps came closer, then paused, and the doorknob turned. He waited for the door to swing open.
“Boy,” said Vernon in a quiet, deadly voice. Harry stood and told himself that he shouldn’t be afraid. He was a wizard, for Merlin’s sake. He could survive anything Vernon threw at him, and then some. After all, Vernon was just a muggle. He wasn’t nearly as bad as the Dark Lord. But as he stared at the looming form of his uncle at the doorway, he couldn’t help but be intimidated.
“Uncle Vernon?” he chanced. The big muggle stepped into his room and shut the door. As soon as it clicked, he whipped around and set a glare upon the boy.
“Keep your damn mouth shut, boy!”
Harry blinked at the sudden vehemence. He didn’t remember doing anything…and then he remembered the warning of the Order.
A big, beefy hand grabbed the front of his shirt and hauled him off the ground. A moment later, he found himself flying across the room to slam his shoulder into the wall. He let out a pained shout and grabbed his aching shoulder, jerking his head up to stare at his uncle.
“Did you think a threat from those freaks would protect you?” Vernon growled, approaching him again. Harry scrambled to his feet and tried the door, but it was locked from the outside. “Don’t bother. Petunia won’t open the door until I tell her to.”
That same hand grabbed his wounded shoulder and gripped hard. Harry gasped at the pain that struck through him, barely noticing as he was tossed to the floor. The rain of kicks upon his body quickly sent him into darkness.
When Harry awoke, he was outside. Heat burned his back and strange shadows were being cast over the grass and flowers. He struggled to get up but his body felt like lead. Finally, he managed to sit and looked towards the heat. His eyes went wide.
Burning-she was burning so brightly, look at the feathers-she was burning but there was no sound-he couldn’t hear anything-why was she burning-MOVE! SAVE HER-can’t move-can’t hear anything-HEDWIG!
His hair was roughly grabbed, but he didn’t so much as cry out in pain as he was pulled to his feet by it. Vernon dragged his face close and sneered at the tears rolling down his cheeks.
“Do you see that, boy? I shot her first. I’m not a monster like you.”
A pathetic whimper was all that Harry could utter. Vernon tossed him back to the ground and went to where Harry’s trunk was sitting. He opened it and one by one, tossed every object into the flames. Harry screamed at him, but he couldn’t get up to stop him. When the invisibility cloak disappeared into the fiery rage, he letting out a sobbing wail. Vernon didn’t leave him for long.
“It’s high time to purify you of that damned taint, boy.”
Harry stared up at him as he tried to understand. Vernon grabbed his arm and dragged him up.
“If you tell anyone about this, it won’t be you that suffers the consequences.”
Everything went black. When he awoke, he was laying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. His body hurt and he didn’t even try to move. Vernon came and yelled at him, told him just how much of a failure he was, a freak, an abomination. He didn’t say a word.
Remus wanted to scream. Instead, he simply stared up at his best friend, a man that was suppose to be dead.
“Padfoot?” he whispered so faintly. The shadowy form shifted to sit on the side of the bed.
“Yeah, Moony. It’s me.”
“How?”
“Malfoy did something… I don’t know much about it.” He shrugged a little and sighed. “In any case, I’m alive and a prisoner here. Seems you are too, now.”
Remus moved carefully to sit up and Sirius stuffed a pillow behind him to support him.
“What now?” the wolf asked. Sirus gave him an odd little smile.
“Oddly enough, be ready for a meal three times a day, fresh clothing to wear, and all the books you can imagine.”
Remus stared at him. “What?”
“Apparently, Narcissa treats anyone in her house the best she can, even prisoners.”
“Oh…”
Sirius glanced out the window. “I gotta warn you too…The Dark Lord visits a lot.”
“What?!” Remus stared at him with wide amber eyes. Sirius sighed a bit.
“It’s weird, Moony,” he continued quietly. “Like the guy’s losing his damn mind. He said he didn’t want to kill Harry.”
A tired look crossed Remus’s face before he looked away. “Sirius…Voldemort is Harry’s-”
“Father. I know. How did you find out?”
“Snape did a paternity test. How did you?”
“Straight from the snake’s mouth.” He frowned deeply. “He had a letter from Lily.”
“Why would Lily ever have anything to do with the Dark Lord?” asked Remus as he raked his hand though his hair. “I just don’t understand.”
“Do you remember Professer Riddle?”
“That’s the second time someone’s asked me that…”
Sirius started to ask who else, but stopped himself and gave his friend a tired look. “Remus, Professer Riddle is Voldemort.”
“You’re joking,” Remus breathed with horror.
“And that’s not even the half of it,” murmured Sirius grimly.
“Lillian!”
“ ;Please, Thomas, don’t make this any harder than it has to be…”
She didn’t look at him as she packed her things. Her hands were sure and strong, unwavering in their duty. Almost harsh in the way they moved, so unlike her normal grace.
“But…but why, Lillian?” The hurt, the utter desolation filled his voice. She didn’t turn around, nor did her voice lose the strength in her resolve.
“It’s better for both of us.”
“Better be damned!” He grabbed her shoulders fast and whipped her around to look in his face. Brown eyes caught emerald, and she watched him break. She held him to her as tears raced down his face. Her fingers curled in his hair as he shook in her arms, his own wrapped around her waist.
“What have I done wrong?” he asked in a desperate murmur, tightening his hold around her. His voice was so weak, so broken…
“I don‘t love you, Tom,” she said quietly and a shudder went down his spine. “I did once, but no more. Please understand me, Tom. Don’t make this harder than it already is.
“Why?” he whispered. She shook her head and drew herself completely from him. His accusing eyes didn’t change her determination.
“Please let me go, Tom.”
He stared at her and then slowly backed away. She stood still at the bedside.
“Go then,” he said simply, so much defeat in his tones. He gave her one last look before leaving her to finish packing and leave the house she had loved so much.
Acknowledgements:
rosiegirl - Heh, glad you're still hooked.
bnnvllpontiac - I've got it in a few places, as well as a copy on my harddrive.
A.O.D was here 05 - What's A.O.D stand for?
Skull Bearer - I'm glad you like the story...You made me blush, actually...
akuma-river - I've got it on nFiction.com and my personal website, which isn't up yet.
dairygirl - Hee, glad to have interested you!
Heather - 1)Yes and no. 2)Yes and no. 3)Yes. 4)Yes and no. (and yes, I love not being very helpful.)
Conditions Met:
1. Voldemort must be Harry's father
3. Sirius comes back