Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

False Ties (Prequel to: Family Ties)	By : JunjouSlashGirl Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Tom Views: 4583 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any of the characters. All rights belong to J. K. Rowling. I make no money from this story.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
Chapter 6: Beginning of the End
(Rhian age 10… continued)
Rhian dragged his hurting body into his room and let himself fall onto the bed. The Dursley's couldn't possibly know, but somehow it seemed as if they had sensed that he was once again without a protector, because their abuse had grown worse again. Maybe they had been able to feel the Dark magic emitting from the Diary, at least on an unconscious level, and that had somewhat reigned them in these past few years.
But now his life was once again an unbearable hell. His nightmares had increased again as well, and were more vicious than ever. He dreamed about his uncle beating him to death and his aunt stabbing him until he bled out on her precious carpet while all the while she was screeching that he was soiling her floors and giving her even more work to do.
Only the thought of Voldemort hopefully searching him out soon kept him going, however, his meeting with the Dark Lord had already been some months ago, and slowly his conviction was dwindling. He knew he was close to falling into a depression. He had even stopped using the Time Turner daily, which robbed him of many hours of sleep and some regular meals on occasions. But on some days, when his body especially hurt a lot, he couldn't really help it. Dumbledore of course did not care about the broken bones he regularly sported or the bleeding belt-cuts on his back, and only pushed him about not ever letting anything show in front of Elijah and Neville.
However, while Elijah was blissfully ignorant, caught up in his sunny happy-go-lucky world, Neville was more sensitive, and while the boy clearly didn't know what was happening to him, Rhian could see in his eyes that he knew something was wrong. Sometimes his friend was chewing on his bottom lip as if he wanted to say something, but so far one look from him had always been enough to keep the chubby child quiet.
He hoped that Neville realized that it wasn't because he didn't trust him, in fact, he found himself wanting to speak with him more often in the last few months than he cared to count, but the portraits always seemed to be listening lately and the castle herself was sentient and had to obey the Headmaster.
Dumbledore truly worried him these days, it was as if the old wizard had noticed something, or was afraid that his loyalties might waver, which of course did not exist in the first place, but the fact was that he had been given a new task.
Instead of training with the other two boys, he had been sent away to guard some mysterious prophecy in the Department of Mysteries. His guarding duties started mostly in the late afternoon after most Ministry workers had left for their homes and continued through the entire night until around 9 in the morning when they came back.
It successfully separated him from his only social contacts, making him feel even more secluded and lonely than he already was. Only a handful of times had he been called to Hogwarts to join in with learning a new spell or joining in on a training duel.
He had seen the Malfoy's twice since the first time and by now not only was Draco watching him, however, but his father was also and clearly more circumspect about it. It didn't really surprise him; not after their encounter in the graveyard. The Dark Lord was bound to be curious about him, however, he did wonder if those two had been the reason Dumbledore had picked up on something or if something completely different was behind it. After all, only because he was a Slytherin (one who had practically been raised by the most Slytherin of all Slytherins, in fact) had he noticed something. That still did not mean that the beacon of all Gryffindors had done either. He had to admit that those two blondes had not been overly obvious about it and he wasn't even sure if he would have noticed it if not for the fact that he had been looking for a sign that maybe Voldemort would make his move soon. But as mentioned before, so far he hadn't.
Sighing, he put the mop back in its cupboard and slipped into his trainers to leave for the Ministry once more. Dumbledore had given him a special Portkey that transported him there and back again at a set time. He was quite certain that the Portkey had not been approved by the Ministry and was illegal in fact; otherwise he probably would have some company in the form of properly trained Aurors. Also, as far as he understood the Department of Mysteries was a very secretive section of the Ministry of Magic and the Minister would probably never let him step foot in there if he knew about it.
The only good thing about the whole task was that Dumbledore had given him a special cloak, an Invisibility Cloak which he had no right to possess anyway, as it had been an heirloom from the Potter family of which he was supposedly the heir and not the old coot. But of course, as usual, Dumbledore had not bothered with such trivial legal matters. However now that he was in possession of the artifact, Rhian would make sure that Dumbledore would never touch it again. And at some point, he would also make sure that the old coot would not be able to steal any more heirlooms (or money) from his Gringotts Vaults. But for that as well, he needed to get away from him first.
He felt the by now familiar tug behind his navel and a moment later found himself once again in the gigantic hall that was filled with rows upon rows of high shelves, all of them holding small, bluish glass spheres.
As usual, he was instantly drawn to the shelf where the prophecy that apparently sealed his fate as the Dark Lord's enemy and possible Defeater was placed. However, it was no magical pull that drawed him there but more his own curiosity. As everything else that had come from the old coots mouth, the prophecy, or rather the story of the prophecy, sounded fishy, especially as Dumbledore had never told him the contents of it.
And that was if he left out the fact that he was clearly not a Light Wizard and got along quite well with the Dark Lord's Diary, and well enough with the man himself.
The crystal ball, however, looked just like all the others as he now stood before it, examining it for what felt at least the thousandth time.
"What a shame, so close and still unable to hear it. But don't worry, we are here now, your excuse has arrived," a mocking voice suddenly could be heard from behind him. He spun around and came face to face with two masked and black robed figures, however, the long blonde hair spilling out from under the drawn hood of the left figure was a clear give away.
"I guess your Master sends you?" He asked without batting an eye.
"Isn't he your Master as well, boy?" the second, smaller man instantly sneered, a threatening tone rising to his voice. Almost like a guard dog, Rhian thought and returned the sneer:
"I don't know. He never contacted me after our little chat last summer."
"No one enters our Lord's circles after only one short chat," the second man sneered. "But he has sent us now to prove your loyalties. Maybe afterwards he will be more inclined…"
"Trying to contact you is not risk free for our Lord, regardless of how much he may gain through it for our side," Lucius finally cut the annoying wizard off. "We were trying to gather information about you; however, someone must have wiped your past clean."
"I could have told him as much and spared you months of work and by extension myself some pain," he replied, turning his sneer now at the Malfoy Lord. "Dumbledore is controlling every aspect of my life, he even decided on tutoring me privately to control the children I meet." Lucius Malfoy's eyes quickly caught the light of the glowing crystal balls and for a second, Rhian could see an intense, searching look in them.
Giving a curt nod, he quickly made up his mind.
"I will retrieve the prophecy for you, however, the Dark Lord better acknowledge my sincerity afterwards," he told them pointedly, conveying the message without actually saying it.
A growling sound came from the wizard whose name he still did not know, but Draco's father inclined his head. So turning around, he took the prophecy from its shelf and activated it with a spark of his magic:
"The One with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches...
Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies...
And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not...
And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives...
The One with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..."
Suddenly a loud bang echoed through the hall of prophecies and Rhian instantly shouted.
"Someone is coming!" He exclaimed, instantly realizing that Dumbledore must have had additional precautions in place and been warned about the Death Eater's arrival.
He had to give the two Death Eaters credit however as they reacted instantly. Immediately the smaller one shot a well aimed spell at the shelf behind him, making the orbs explode in a glittering downpour of blue glass fragments. Lucius Malfoy had sent a spell at him at the same time, destroying the prophecy effectively, just in time before a group of people appeared around the corner.
Rhian could recognize Tonks and Moody. There was also a man with light brown hair he had never seen before, and to his horror, his godfather Sirius as well. The four men lifted their wands, but before they could utter a single spell, Lucius had grabbed him and whispered: "He is on to you," and pushed him violently into the Light Wizards' direction, adequately distracting them.
The two Dark Wizards used the confusion to apparate out.
Relief washed through him even as Sirius caught him and started to searchingly pat him down for injuries. He was so distracted that he hissed automatically as one hand brushed over a particular deep cut of Vernon's belt.
"Moony, he is injured! We have to get him to Albus, now!"
The brown haired man turned his head to him and sniffed once, making him finally realize that it had to be Remus, the Werewolf friend of his godfather and James Potter.
"They must have tortured him, I can smell a lot blood on him!" he gasped and quickly turned to Tonks and Moody. "Will you stay behind and try and see if you can find some magical residues from those two Death Eaters? Maybe we can find some indications as to who they were…"
"I don't need any residues to recognize the blonde one!" Moody barked, but waved them off. "Go lads and tell Dumbledore we will bring our reports as soon as we are finished."
"You take him. You are stronger!" Sirius ordered his friend and for a moment he wanted to protest. He wasn't happy being carried in the first place, let alone by a stranger, but before could say a word he was scooped up by the werewolf, but unlike Lucius and the other Death Eaters, they apparently had no way to apparate in and out, so for the first time he got a glimpse at the governing building of the Wizarding World as he was carried through endless hallways into a huge entrance hall. It was greatly disappointing, dark, as if they were hiding under the earth; and even the gigantic, golden statue only showed how much wizards and witches had fallen from grace. A wizard standing in superiority over a Goblin, House Elf and Centaur who were looking up at him in adoration. Even a witch and a smaller, more delicate looking man were groveling in front of the figure. Despicable! He wondered what the Goblins and Centaurs would do if they were to see it, or any strong, independent woman for that matter.
Sirius quickly re-ignited one of the many fireplaces that lined the walls to both sides, tossed some floo powder from a pocket into the flame and shouted "Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts," so that Remus could carry him through.
The swirling of the floo ride only added to his confusion and before he knew it he was carried out into Dumbledore's office and the Werewolf shouted: "Albus! We got him, but he is injured!"
Fast steps could be heard and suddenly the old coot appeared from behind a tapestry that was apparently hiding another room, or maybe a staircase to his private quarters.
The old wizard's blue eyes flickered from him to the man carrying him and back again, a strange gleam entering his eyes, before they once again settled on the Werewolf: "Where is Sirius? Was he injured or killed?"
"No, don't worry. He should be right behind us," Remus reassured the man, who answered with a relieved nod; however, Rhian had seen the quick darkening of the Headmaster's eyes.
"Good, good. Now, what happened to Harry?"
"They must have tortured him, the stench of blood is strong on him," Remus explained and turned to the office door, however, Dumbledore stopped him:
"There is no need to wake Poppy; she had quite the busy day. I have some potions that will patch him up right away, just lay him down on my couch."
"Are you sure, Albus? Lucius Malfoy was one of them and he is a vicious bastard!" Sirius' voice could be heard from the direction of the fireplace, where he must have just arrived.
"Yes, Sirius. He is conscious and does not seem to be suffering from any Dark Curses," Albus reassured his godfather while pressing a small vial into his hand. He didn't even need to read the label to recognize it for a mild healing potion that would probably not even be strong enough to close the deeper cuts. If anything, it would reduce the swelling around the injuries.
The Werewolf still looked worried, but he was sure that he would think the continued smell of blood would come from his clothes, and either way, Dumbledore did not leave them time for any more concerns as he turned to him.
"Now, Harry, is the Prophecy still safe?"
"...no… it was destroyed. But I managed to smash it together with the whole shelf, so at least they couldn't hear anything," he lied and lowered his lashes in apparent guilt.
"That is not a problem, my boy. You did a good job. I still remember the words of Sybill Trelawney, the seer who made the prediction. As long as Voldemort does not find out its secrets, everything will be fine," Dumbledore was quick to reassure him.
Most likely, the old coot was even relieved that there apparently was no chance for the Dark Lord ever hearing the prophecy any longer. After all, if even he could puzzle together that it was utter nonsense, so would a wizard as intelligent as the leader of the Dark.
He took the potions from the old wizard, downed it quickly and then asked: "Can I return home then? Healing potions always makes me sleepy." As expected, he barely felt any change.
"Of course my boy. The night has been rough. Go and rest so that you will be up to par tomorrow again," the Headmaster nodded graciously and Rhian suppressed the snort that wanted to slip through his lips. Sure he would be all fine by tomorrow.
He waved at Sirius and Remus, before turning to the fireplace and grabbing some floo powder.
Once back in the neat muggle house of his 'family', he noticed to his relief that Malik had cooked the Dursley's breakfast already and put it under heating charms, so that it would stay fresh.
Sometimes, he believed, the elf must have a sixth sense to know when he would be too tired to do his part of the daily chores. Well, he definitely was grateful for it.
Back in his room, he quickly changed into his PJ's, before flopping down on his bed and grabbing the small mirror he hid in the drawer of his bedside cabinet.
It had been a present from Sirius, so that they could easily stay in contact and talk face to face. Which they had done, every evening for weeks now. Sirius was the second reason he had not gone insane yet. His godfather had distracted him with stories about himself and Rhian's supposed late father.
The stories in general had not convinced him about James Potters, Sirius or Remus Lupin's intelligence, but had been amusing enough. Nothing he would ever try to copy; he was too much of a Slytherin and had had too little off a childhood his whole life, but it had been better than to only think about what he had lost by giving the Diary away.
And one thing he had to admit; his godfather, as dense as he could often be, had a keen sense for when he felt truly bad. Four times the man had sneaked into his room in his dog form already to cheer him up and it had always worked. The mixture of the warm, furry body lying patiently next to him until he was ready to speak (at least the little he would admit to) and the bright presence of the man with his constant cheerful personality had somehow manage to sneak his way into his closed off heart.
Hoping that enough time has passed, he sent a pulse of his magic into the two-way mirror and called out his godfather's name. He really needed to speak with the man. What had he been thinking sneaking around the Department of Mysteries in the Ministry of all places!
Sirius' face appeared with a wide grin, about to speak, but he didn't give him the chance:
"What, by Salazar's goatee, had you been thinking?"
His godfather's expression dropped and a frown appeared on his haggard features. "What do you mean?"
"The stupid stunt you just pulled off!" He huffed, annoyed about the man's Gryffindorish cluelessness.
"But Dumbledore said you were in danger. That the Death Eaters were after you and they clearly were!" Sirius protested.
"I had everything under control. There was no need for you to run into the Ministry that wants to catch and hand you over to the Dementors! In fact there was no reason for you to know about my newest mission. Didn't I warn you about Dumbledore? That he is manipulative and uses everybody for his advantage?"
Sirius sighed and rubbed his face tiredly: "I know, but I honestly think that he isn't as bad as you make him out to be. He always fought for the 'Light Side'. I am sure he is only worried about you. Maybe he is a bit overprotective and overbearing; you are a special case after all. Speaking of protecting you, I thought about getting your custody finally. Dumbledore can help me clear my name and then you can leave those horrible relatives of Lily."
Rhian sighed inwardly. Did his godfather not listen or was he just naive?
"Do you truly believe that? Don't you think that he would already have done that, if he wanted to?"
"He couldn't have been sure that I was innocent until recently," Sirius scowled at him and Rhian decided to give the matter up for now. He personally didn't believe that Dumbledore hadn't known about the switch in Secret Keeper; the man after all made it his mission to know everything about his pawns. But he couldn't let it go without one last warning: "Please be careful," he told the man, meaning it. With Marvolo now gone, Sirius was basically his last left confidant.
He couldn't be sure yet about Draco, and the Dark Lord as well as Marvolo was unreachable.
ΦθΦθΦθΦθΦθΦθΦθΦθΦθΦθ
Rhian awoke with a gasp. This was getting ridiculous. As if he wasn't agitated enough with his constantly growing and unsatisfiable hunger. He didn't need those kinds of dreams nearly every night as well.
And every single one of them ended in the same infuriating way; with him nursing from that strangely familiar person, who felt even more familiar by now and finally getting sated.
Growling in annoyance, he pushed himself and stood up. He needed to get going, a look at his clock told him as much. Dumbledore definitely would expect him to come to his office after yesterday's events and he was late already. He had slept for too long, something that basically had never happened in the past, but appeared to happen more and more frequently since he was getting weaker. Quickly he dressed in one of his cousin's old hand-me-downs and left his room.
"You are late, boy!" His aunt snapped from the kitchen as soon as he stepped into the small hallway. "I don't want any freakish letter from that man, so hurry up. And don't forget to take out the garbage once you return!"
"Yes, aunt Petunia," he answered obediently and hid his sneer in the shadows of his downcast face and continued to the fireplace.
Stepping out of the Headmaster's fireplace, he quickly scanned the room and to his surprise, was not met with the old fool's twinkling eyes, but a hard, dark glare.
"Mister Potter, finally. You are late, but I did not expect any different, knowing the man who passed on half of his genes to you."
Blinking once, Rhian suppressed a delighted smirk. A Slytherin, finally. The man's eyes quickly swept up to the many listening Portraits; he took the hint, sneered back and returned mockingly: "Sorry to have kept you waiting. I didn't know you would be here, or I would have made sure to get up earlier after fighting Death Eaters the whole bloody night."
"You can be glad that you are not part of any House yet, or you would just have lost your friends at least 150 points and earned yourself a week's worth detention. Now, Professor Moody has been called into the Auror's Department, his advice is needed this morning," the dark man continued with a pointed look that made Rhian pay even closer attention, before rising to his feet in one fluid motion. "I will be teaching you and your little friends today. As you were running late, I sent them ahead." he said and walked over to the office door, where he proceeded to hold it open and motioned Rhian through.
"During our lesson, you will address me as Sir, or Professor Snape. I will not tolerate any cheek, not even from a Potter."
Nodding obediently for the portraits, Rhian stepped onto the spiral staircase which started to move as soon as the Professor had joined him and closed the door. He was just about to step ahead and out of the dark staircase, when the cold voice snapped at him once again: "Potter, don't drop your litter and act as if you didn't notice it! I will not tolerate such blatant laziness."
Turning around, his face carefully sculpted into a deep scowl, just in case Dumbledore could even spy in this dingy corridor, he turned around and followed the direction of the pointed, slightly yellow finger of the Professor.
On the stairs he just had stepped down from, lay a single, crumpled piece of parchment. It definitely wasn't his; he never brought parchment to Hogwarts as he wanted to keep up the act of being an outcast in the muggle world perfectly, but said nothing and instead bent down and picked it up, before putting it securely into one of his pockets.
"My apologies, Professor," he replied politely, but the man only swept past him and strode purposefully ahead.
What followed was the best lesson he has had since Marvolo had tutored him. Snape may not have the natural talent for tutelage, but his precise, clear instructions, the lack of constant side chattering (like Tonks tended to do) or attempts to get any kind of information out of him (like Moody liked to try), was refreshing.
He may not have learned a lot in the sense of new spells (he truly doubted that Snape could teach him a lot after over two years of tutelage from the most powerful and knowledgeable Dark Wizard alive, or could even have done so in the old fools castle), but Snape had taken him to the side and taught him some more physical moves like dodging and avoiding spells than just jumping out of the way like Moody was teaching him.
However, he had been the only one enjoying the change in teachers. Elijah didn't get along with the Slytherin at all and Neville had been downright scared of the man.
The following lesson with Tonks and later even one of Dumbledore's beloved "History Lessons" about the shining past of the 'Light Side', had crept by slower than a snail and the piece of parchment had grown heavier and heavier with every passing minute. Therefore, as soon as he got back at his relatives', he grabbed the garbage and marched out of the house to find a quiet and secure place to read the message.
He found it not far down the street, in the form of an empty side alley which was only gloomily lit by the light spilling from the adjoining houses. Barely able to contain his curiosity any longer, he finally pulled the crumpled parchment out of his pocket, unfolded and straightened it, and began to read:
If you truly wish to change your situation, then go to Gringotts during the summer break and request for a member of the Wizardry Protection Association. An associate will be on duty. Tell the goblins that you have not received the proper education about your Potter Lordship Inheritance and that you suspect your current guardian of keeping your vaults and heirlooms from you.
The letter wasn't signed, but Rhian recognized it as the Dark Lord's, as it was undeniably similar to Marvolo's.
Carefully, he folded the parchment and put it securely back into his pocket as an evil smirk stretched his lips. Lord Voldemort had finally kept his word; he would be able to leave the Dursley's and Dumbledore for good. Now, he only had to wait for the right opportunity to slip away. And once it appeared, he would make sure that the old fool wouldn't know what had hit him.
For the first time he could remember, he began to whistle joyfully as he returned to the main street and continued upon his way. This day had been good. Maybe even one of his best.
Soon, he had sorted all the garbage into the proper containers and was back at the Dursley's house. Far too early in his opinion; but luckily his so-called relatives were already gathered in the living room and watching an action movie loud enough to not even realize that he had returned.
Therefore, he took his chance and disappeared into his room, hoping that they would not remember that he existed (until the next morning, at least).
Deciding that he was not really tired yet, he went into his library, searched for an interesting sounding book (they grew rarer and rarer with every passing week) and settled down on his sofa. At some point, Orsana joined him and he pet her obedient until his eyelids were finally drooping and he went to bed so as not to fall asleep on the couch.
However, as soon as his eyes had fallen shut and his breathing event out, another dream began:
He was scowling at the broom that was hovering a few feet above the ground in front of him. It was the perfect height to mount, and he wanted to get up there, but not with the help of a broom. He wanted to do it himself, without any help, the same as he saw his father do last evening; it was so much more impressive.
He tried to concentrate even harder and direct his magic. It was always a bit difficult for him to control his magic as there was so much of it. His daddy had explained that he had problems because he was special and not just an 'average' wizard.
"Rhian! Come inside. Lord Prince and Lord Malfoy along with his son had just arrived" his father called and shattered his concentration completely in the process as his broom dropped to the ground. With an annoyed huff he turned around sharply and followed his father.
He quickly ran after him to catch up, but as he drew nearer, the figure in front of him changed. He grew a few inches taller, his shoulders broadened with muscles. The silky wavy black hair that use to flow freely suddenly grew and was neatly tied back with a silken black ribbon. His fluid open walk changed into a calculated militant stride.
Something else changed as well, but Rhian couldn't quite pinpoint what it was. It was more like a feeling, as if his father was closing up to him in front of his eyes. All was forgotten though as they entered the throne room.
As usual he followed his father to the throne, and sat down in the small but equally silver chair as elegantly and regally as was expected of him.
He looked at the two men and the boy kneeling down respectfully in front of his father and waited for them to finish their business so that they could get back to the flying they had been doing outside.
"You have returned in a timely manner, so I assume you have completed the task I had assigned you Lord Prince" his father stated.
"I have my Lord, the boy was given the letter and no one had noticed."
"Good," his father replied with a satisfied nod, before turning his attention to the white haired gentleman he asked: "Any news from the Ministry I should be aware of Lord Malfoy?"
As he wasn't quite interested in his father's dealings, he let his eyes wander over to the older boy, wondering if he would like to come over to play sometimes. His father was picky about the children he was allowed to invite; in fact, he had not been allowed to invite anyone so far, but by the ring he was wearing, he could see that the teen's father was in his dad's inner circle. So he should be worthy enough.
The blonde boy's eyes flickered up to him, and he almost startled at their bright, silver color. Yes, this boy definitely was from one of the oldest lines, magic ran strong through him; he could see and sense it. However, as the boy noticed that he was watching, he quickly cast his gaze back down. Disappointed, he returned his attention to the ongoing conversation. Hopefully once the teen had received a formal invitation, he would have more of a backbone.
"I have heard rumors that there has been unrest with the Dementors and that one was spotted in London itself" the boy's father just replied.
"Yes, I was in a meeting with the leader of the Dementors earlier. Apparently Dumbledore gave instruction to 'Kiss' Lord Black on sight and included an address. The man should be dead by now... or as dead as a 'kissed' person becomes," his father advised.
He saw a frown marring the face of the man his father called Lord Prince.
"That old fool doesn't seem to learn and keeps pushing. I am afraid he might have pushed too hard at this point if the boy suspects the truth. We might even see him sooner than anticipated."
His father inclined his head and looked thoughtful for a second. "His arrival will definitely be of no hindrance to our cause. In fact, the sooner, the better. Let the 'Light' fools find out that victory is not as close as they like to believe."
He nodded again, as if confirming something to himself, before returning his attention the other Lord; Lord Malfoy, he supposed.
"I want you to take care of another matter. It is not important whether you take care of it yourself or hire someone trustworthy, but news reached me that Igor is not loyal to us anymore."
"The problem will be solved," the man promised and underlined his statement with a deep bow."
"You may leave then," his father dismissed, making him sigh inwardly in relief.
Once the three had left, he jumped to his feet, ready to run back into the garden, however, his dad's voice stopped him: "Rhian, are you not hungry yet? Your last feeding has been last evening," he admonished him and casting his eyes down, he realized that his stomach indeed felt rather empty.
Nodding, he smiled up at his father and quickly climbed onto his father's lap where he proceeded to push the heavy black velvet robe open.
"You should be more responsible. We have all the time in the universe and you need nourishment if you want to grow into a strong wizard," his father continued, lifting one hand to comb it through his long black strands in a rare show of care and affection. Sighing, he relaxed into the touch and settled down comfortably, before lashing onto a pale nipple.
The sweet liquid that filled his mouth and ran down his throat warmed his stomach and gave him new strength. This was so delicious, nothing compared to the taste of his father, not even the finest chocolates he sometimes got from his father's subjects.
ΦθΦθΦθΦθΦθΦθΦθΦθΦθΦθ
Rhian startled awake and for a moment the world seemed to spin around him. His head was pounding where his lightning bolt scar was embedded into his forehead and he felt nauseous. Closing his eyes, he waited for the spinning to stop and for the confusion that was filling his mind to vanish.
What kind of crazy dream had that been? Why had the man that looked like Marvolo suddenly grown older? Who was he anyway? A king? And what had Snape, Draco and Lucius been doing there? And the name the man had used for the Professor… what had it been? Prince? It all made no sense.
Suddenly another piece of conversation echoed through his mind and he gasped. In the dream, they had talked about Sirius' murder. By Dumbledore's hands. Shaking his head, he opened his eyes again and shook his head vehemently. He needed to stop panicking; it had only been a crazy dream after all.
Thinking that there was nothing better than just getting going to distract himself, he got up and readied for the day. As he got the prepared breakfast table, he found Orsana curled around a steaming cup of tea.
Smiling down at the shrunken basilisk, he picked her up, getting a few hissed grumbles for his effort, and placed her around his neck.
"Just stay hidden, then you can accompany me to Hogwarts today," he hissed, piling his plate full of delicious, but unsatisfying goodies.
"Thank you so much for your graciousness, Master. I would like nothing more than to accompany you to Hogwarts and get sick in one of your pockets while that crazy old man chases you around," Orsana hissed sarcastically and slithered down his arm and back onto the table.
"Well, then just stay here and wait for me," he shrugged, piercing a piece of waffle with whipped cream onto his fork.
Fifteen minutes later he was stepping into his relative's neat hallway. Fortunately neither of the Dursley's were at home, so he got to the living room without any nasty comments and quickly floo'ed over to Hogwarts.
However, once again he arrived not to the scene he had expected. Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk, just as usual, but instead of Neville and Elijah, there was an old Lady sitting in a fluffy armchair, as well as Moody and Tonks.
"... I think the boys need and deserve a holiday, Albus. They are still children and the weather is bound to be too hot for any serious training anyway."
"Quite right, Augusta," Dumbledore said with a soft, seemingly understanding smile, but Rhian saw the annoyance in the old man's eyes even from a distance.
"Then we have an agreement?" The witch asked, rising to her feet. Looking at her straight and confident stance, he got an inclination as to why Dumbledore bowed to her wishes. She clearly held a lot of power, most likely not only magically, but politically as well.
She didn't actually wait for an answer from the old fool, and rose instantly in Rhian's book; however, as soon as she had vanished in the hearth, he was called over by Dumbledore.
"As you must have heard, you, Neville and Elijah will have a break over the Summer Holidays. However, I believe that your role in this war is far too important to slack off completely, therefore, Professor Moody has brought some literature along for you," the wizard said and took the book Moody was now holding out.
Sighing inwardly, Rhian waited patiently as Dumbledore skipped through the pages, until he finally stopped.
"As you can see, this book contains very detailed pictures of wand movements. I want you to practice and memorize all of them and once we resume our lessons in September, I will explain to you their purpose and proper usage."
Moody and Tonks rose to their feet, the latter giving him a cheerful smile and Rhian proceeded to follow their example, assuming that their meeting was over and Dumbledore would want to be left alone so that he would be able to plan and plot in peace. However, to his dismay it was not meant to be:
"Harry, my boy, please stay behind," Dumbledore suddenly stopped him as he was about to follow the others to the fireplace. Frowning, he nodded and sat back down, trying to squash the uneasy feeling that had barely left him from earlier this morning, and which was rising up inside of him once more.
Calculatingly, he watched as Dumbledore waited for Lady Longbottom who was last in line to leave as well. Once she had disappeared, the old wizard turned to face him with a grave expression. Rhian didn't buy it, but it made the lump of ice in his stomach only heavier.
"Harry, I am afraid I have to deliver some sad news to you. Earlier last night, Sirius, your godfather, unfortunately crossed paths with some Dementors."
"The man should be dead by now... or as dead as a 'kissed' person becomes" He suddenly heard the Nobleman's voice echo in his head and his fingers began to shake.
"I am truly sorry," Dumbledore said in the background, but he could barely hear him as dread filled his body like ice water, numbing every cell of his.
First Marvolo and now Sirius. No one was left. They were all gone. First his tutor, the first adult he had ever trusted and now Sirius, his godfather who, despite himself, he had started to care about and view as a family member.
He was on his own again. And then it truly sunk in. Sirius was dead, killed by Dementors hands, just like Snape, Lucius and the other man had said in his dream, and he would bet his wand arm that it was Dumbledore's doing, just like they had discussed.
Suddenly, hot rage melted the numbness away and with balled fists, he stood up and turned to the fireplace. He just manage to get a sorry excuse of an apology out, one, he hoped that sounded as if he was riddled with sadness and distress and not anger, and to his relief, Dumbledore didn't stop him as he floo'ed back to Privet Drive.
His mind was racing 100 miles a second as one realization followed the other. The dream had not been a dream and considering how similar it had been to his previous dreams, it was likely that they had not been dreams either. He suddenly remembered what Marvolo had told him about his name, that it had been the name of someone who had once been very important to the Dark Lord. So the child he had dreamed about, could it be that it had been that person and not himself as he had assumed until now? Was the man even Voldemort, how he had looked before his defeat? After all, the similarity to Marvolo was there. So, was he having dreams about the past? Were they maybe visions?
Whatever those earlier dreams had meant, one thing he was certain about; Lucius Malfoy, Severus Snape (or Prince) and Draco had visited Lord Voldemort this night and he had somehow witnessed it. Somehow, those events had snuck their way into his other dream and connected with it.
And that just reminded him; he wasn't alone, not completely. He had a place where he could go; Lord Voldemort had arranged an opportunity for him, one that probably would never repeat itself again. He had planned on going anyway, but had not been certain when the right time would be, but now Dumbledore had gone too far. Not a single moment longer he would play along the old fool's charade. He had nothing to lose and all to win. He would leave. Now!
ΦθΦθΦθΦθΦθΦθΦθΦθΦθΦθ
The End... For now
ΦθΦθΦθΦθΦθΦθΦθΦθΦθΦθ
Author's Note:
So here is the completed sequel. I hope you guys enjoyed it. Remember to 'Follow' the story as I will add a extract of Chapter 1 of 'Family Ties' here in this story when I post Chapter 1 of the new one. Also join me on Facebook.
I plan on writing ahead in Family Ties, so there will be a bit of a break till the sequel, but I do have some other surprises in store!
Please don't forget to review as this is the end of the journey…. for now….
JSG
- 5
- 6
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

False Ties (Prequel to: Family Ties)