Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Weapon	By : uqui Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Voldemort Views: 105432 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 26
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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27/11/2012

Unneeded – thank you for the review. Draco lost the spell and the Shadows with it but he won’t find his freedom much use. Cissa will fix the hole in her defences soon enough. Really though it’s not that unusual. If you were close to a family member do you really think to protect against them? I’m sure, Narcissa was hoping to recruit Bellatrix. Thanks again for the review.

Stacy - Senelyn831@aol.com – Thank you so much for the… Well I’m not even sure it counts as a flame but please, review some more. I appreciated the UK tone of the few words you felt necessary to post and got a chuckle out of it. Cheers muchly.

Thank you to SuryaPrakash for the betaing. If there are mistakes, they are my fault.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed and rated. I'm very happy that people are enjoying the fic, and I fervently hope that they continue to enjoy the fic.

Weapon LXXXII Assess the Mood

Harry blinked in the thin dawn light as he ran though the movements of the sword dance that Snape had taught him this summer. It was too cold outside so he was in the Room of Requirement and it was configured as if he was standing beside the lake on an early summer morning. He liked practicing in early mornings because it gave him the chance to talk to his servants without Fawkes overhearing. It was the only way he could keep track of things.

"How are things going?" he asked the Shadows.

:Quite well,: they replied.

"Details?"

:Whom would you like to know about?:

"Remus?" Harry swung the Sword of Gryffindor through a long arc, spinning as he did so.

:He won, though he may have a broken arm. He'll try to see the Minister sometime soon, but he won't be successful.:

"Ah, always honourable," Harry sighed. He had expected nothing else from Remus and would be ready when the Werewolf Pack Leader came to him. "Can we fix his arm?"

:Not until he comes to us,: the Shadows said gently.

"How is Snape?" Harry asked twisting his wrist left and right as he spun the sword around his body.

:Recovering. It will be a few days yet before he regains consciousness.:

"Voldemort doesn't mess around, does he?"

:No, he doesn't. His directness is rather charming,: the Shadows agreed, and Harry could hear the smile.

"Should I see him?"

:Not yet. It would be best if we let Snape get used to the idea first.:

"So what about the vampire?"

:He's more difficult. He is watching you and he does know the truth; he just can't prove it and he knows that without proof, he can't say a word.:

"Can we get rid of him?" Harry asked, snapping the sword through a series of vicious thrusts, drawing his wand with his other hand and accompanying the movement with bright red stunner spells.

:Unfortunately not. With Kisha at Voldemort's side, we really don't want the vampire going somewhere we can't follow, though we are working on discrediting them.:

"Oh?" Harry's voice was laced with interest.

:We had Sirius kill a few ruffians and make it look like a vampire killed them. The Ministry found them, but not before they were seen and the rumour is currently running rife through the wizarding households.:

The wizard chuckled, sheathing his sword, and he shifted to the dagger motions, full of quick slashes and thrusts. He was particularly good at these.

"How is Voldemort?"

The Shadows were silent for a moment before they answered. :Doing fine. You've seen the attacks so you know he's still progressing and he retrieved the Basilisks from Malfoy Manor last night.:

"Is there really no faster way?"

:You could win at Christmas if you want to spend the next few years chasing down brigands. Be patient master, let all the players come forward, let all of them declare themselves so that they may be dealt with.:

"Who's left to come forward?"

:We don't know. Maybe no one, but even so a year is what we said it would take; a year is what it will take unless a drawn out war is what you want on the Isles.:

"No," Harry sighed. "I don't want a war. I just wish there was an easier way. It's only been five months, but I'm already tired of the charade."

:We know, Master, we know. Endure it because we do not lie; this really is the way that it must be.:

"I could hunt down any dissidents," Harry objected.

:Yes, you have more than enough power to do that. If it was just about power, we'd be with you, Master, telling you to embrace your animagus form and join with Voldemort and to obliterate anything in your path. But it's not about power. You can't destroy what you don't know is against you and while we are good, we can't find everyone.:

Harry sighed, "Have you spoken to Voldemort about Fawkes?"

:Not yet.:

"Please do so, though I have an idea on how to deal with the Phoenix."

:Hmm?:

"I'm still working through the details, but I promise I won't try it without talking to you about it," Harry gave them the assurance. They were curious and they didn't want a repeat of his experimentation with his animagus form, not on something as dangerous as destroying a phoenix.

:Tell us!: the Shadows tried to sound wheedling.

"I don't like getting an external party involved," Harry said.

:If there is one thing that is true, they would only do what was asked for, nothing more.:

"That's not the point. You've already said that you aren't sure how Ollivander will react when he finds out about me. How will another react?"

The Shadows were silent and Harry continued. "You don't know. It might be okay; they might only do what is asked, but they might decide I'm a liability..."

:Ollivander might decide that anyway,: the Shadows broke in.

"If he does, I'm sure I can rely on you to help me make him regret it," Harry said with a smile, "But we don't know what might happen when we bring in another party so if there's any possibility I can do it or even that we can work out something, I'd like to at least consider that option."

:So tell us,: the Shadows requested.

Harry sighed again. "Dark can corrupt Light, and Light can redeem Dark but what happens when there are two wizards proclaiming to be Dark Lords?"

:They fight it out,: the Shadows said, beginning to grasp where their master was heading.

"Now that doesn't happen for Light, but it could."

:It doesn't happen because for it to happen, one of them must become Dark or at least Grey.:

"So you are telling me that someone who is Light can't genuinely hate another of the Light?"

:We aren't saying that. In fact some of the strongest warriors of the Light have been those who have recognised that they have hatred in their emotions. It was how they controlled it that made them so strong.:

"Nice save," Harry complimented them. "But I can't be corrupted because you won't let that happen."

:So you want to fight Fawkes?:

"Dark can fight Dark and only one emerges. Why can't Light fight Light?"

Harry sensed the Shadows blink before they seemed to take a deep breath. :We'd still prefer to go the other way. We know it works. We know nothing about this.:

"Would it work?"

:We don't know.:

"I wouldn't be hurt though would I? At least not any worse than I could be hurt fighting anything else."

:Probably not,: the Shadows said after a long pause. :We need time to think about this. Your concern is valid, Master. Bringing in another always has risks, but it is known to work but... Your idea does have some merit. We just aren't sure.:

"Think about it please," Harry instructed as he mentally ran through a list of questions he wanted the answers for. It was getting late and he should be heading to breakfast shortly. "Ah! I almost forgot! How is my favourite Slytherin?"

The Shadows laughed. :We think he's taken to inventing new swear words.:

"Oh?"

:He broke your charm during the blue moon.:

"So he knows the truth?"

:Yes, but he like the Vampire is trapped without proof. Actually, Draco has proof; it's in his mind. It's just incriminating to him as well.:

"Will he strike?"

:Not until he tests the waters.:

Harry laughed. There was a note of deep satisfaction in his voice. "I'll look forward to our game then," he said.

:And we will look forward to his defeat,: the Shadows said happily before they sighed, and Harry could detect a distinct note of reluctance from them.

"What is it?"

:Master, there is one thing you must deal with now. One thing we know you don't wish to.:

"The girl."

:We are well aware of your true feelings, but you must continue the charade and she is harbouring doubts.:

"Doubts are normal," Harry tried to object, already knowing that it wasn't going to cut it.

:Doubts are normal,: the Shadows agreed mildly. :But you are meant to be destined and her doubts are a telegraph for others. Master, your act is almost perfect, people believe what you want them to believe. Hers is not. If the vampire can't find the proof he needs looking at you, he will look at her. TThe same with Fawkes, and we absolutely cannot allow her to be Initiated into the Order of the Phoenix.:

Harry shuddered at the thought. One look into Ginny's mind with all her knowledge and...well...at least he'd be back with Voldemort, but they would be facing a rejuvenated Light. One seething with the anger of betrayal, and he'd have no chance of saving any of his friends.

"All right," he said tiredly. As they had said, they knew his preference; they would not have brought this up unless it was a realistic possibility. "I will take her to Hogsmeade, but won't the Order take that as a further need to protect her?"

:They will, but you are very much an exception to the rule, Master. They will not Initiate her until she is seventeen and that will be too late.:

"You'd better be sure about this."

:We are. The Phoenix does not like exposing himself to an adolescent mind. The emotions are too changeable.:

Harry snorted. Fawkes had a lot of peeves.

:Go to breakfast, Master. This month will be interesting.:

"In more ways than one," Harry said as he exited the room, heading down towards the Great Hall.

Narcissa stood on the threshold. She had never intended to return here, but as she had thought about her plans she had realised she had to. She only hoped the wand maker didn't throw her out unconditionally. He might. He had told her what he believed she needed to do and he had been very clear. The fact that she had not agreed with his advice did not change his opinion, and when she was honest with herself, she could see his point. She had made a blinding magical contract, but she had made it when she had not understood the consequences. And so she was taking the only method she knew to break it.

"Come in!" the voice sounded around her and she started but obeyed, closing the door behind her as she took a few tentative steps into the shop.

"What do you want?" Ollivander asked harshly.

"I..."

"I told you not to come back here."

"I know," the blonde woman said, looking at the ground.

"It's too late you know, even if you decided to honour your promise, it's too late."

"I know," Narcissa agreed again before she gathered herself, "But that is not what I am here for. Even if I was inclined, I will not abandon my son."

"So what do you want?" Silver eyes examined her closely, disappointment lurking in their depths.

Suddenly Narcissa wasn't sure what she wanted. All her certainty, all her planning left her as she looked into the man's silver eyes and she went with the thing she had intended to ask last. "Please give this to my mother."

Ollivander took the folded parchment. "You do realise that if it's a request to avenge you, I will be the hand that stops her?"

"It isn't."

The way the wand maker raised his eyebrow clearly spelled out his doubt, but he gestured for her to continue.

Narcissa took a deep breath to steady herself. "I need to know something," she said finally.

"What do you need to know?" There was almost an amused lilt in his tone.

"Are all the sides defined?"

Ollivander smiled. It was a very good question, one others should be asking, but assumed. While Narcissa was doomed, it was nice to know she retained at least some sense. "The sides are defined," he said.

"Are all the players aligned?"

"No."

Narcissa's eyes closed and she turned her face to the ceiling as her breath hissed between her teeth. "Who?" she whispered.

"You know I can't tell you that."

She looked back at him, her eyes dull. "Please?"

"No. And if that is all you are here for, then it's time for you to go," Ollivander said sharply.

The witch turned away. "Just make sure my mother gets that," she murmured, reaching for the door.

"I will."

"I will not be back."

"I know."

Remus stood in a hallway of the Ministry. He was dressed in his best robes and his arm ached, but that was nothing he couldn't handle himself. Blackpelt stood beside him and the other werewolf's fidgeting was perversely making it easier for Remus to seem calm. He would have liked to have Longtooth with him, but the other werewolf was still recovering from the injuries Fenrir had inflicted upon him.

He had requested a meeting with the Minister though he didn't expect to get one. For the sake of doing things lawfully, he felt he had to try. He wanted to have the Werewolves ally with the Shadows, but he had to at least try this first. He trusted Harry's servants, but they were an unknown path and many of the werewolves would probably like to go on a path they at least had heard of. The Dark Lord would no doubt persecute them, but going with the Shadows meant that at least for a time, both the Dark and Light forces would persecute them. Remus wasn't sure the werewolves were truly ready for the reality of such a situation.

They'd been waiting for a few hours, but Remus was patient. He would wait all day, ignoring the looks he was getting from the witches and wizards who were working in the Ministry.

"This is getting nowhere," Blackpelt murmured when another witch made a crude sign against evil.

"Patience," Remus said softly. "We have to try this."

"I don't see why. You want to go with the other option. You won, so all you need to do is give the order."

Lupin smiled. "The Dark Lord or the Ministry are both the known paths with known dangers. Most of the pack would appreciate going along a known pathway, though I suspect we will be going down the unknown because I won't be going with the Dark Lord, even if this doesn't work."

A Ministerial Aide walked up to them. The witch was young and was obviously nervous. Remus smiled at her, trying to put the young witch at ease though it didn't seem to work.

"The Minister can't see you today," she said, though her voice was not very apologetic. "If you could come back tomorrow..."

"The Minister does know who I represent?" Remus asked, trying to keep his voice level.

"Of course!" the young witch objected. "You are a werewolf."

"No, child," Remus informed her coldly. "I am the Pack Leader of the Isles."

"The what?" she questioned, clearly not understanding.

"The Pack Leader of the Isles," Lupin repeated.

"I would suggest you come back tomorrow, or make an appointment with the Senior Secretary."

"This is getting nowhere," Blackpelt repeated loud enough to be heard.

"I do not see why a werewolf should be granted an appointment with the Minister," the witch snarled.

"That's it," Blackpelt growled. "Pack Leader, we should leave. There are better offers for us than the Ministry."

"Oh, are there?"

Remus turned to see Dumbledore and Xeoaph walking down the hall towards the Minister's office. It was the vampire who had spoken.

"There are," Remus said. "I think you are correct," he said to Blackpelt. "Let's go."

"Remus?" Dumbledore questioned, ignoring the way the young witch was looking at him.

"Albus," Lupin greeted the old wizard.

"What are you doing here?"

"Albus," there was exasperation in Remus' tone. "I'm here for the Werewolves."

"You have no official capacity though. You told me that yourself."

"As of the last full moon, I have official capacity."

"Then you should have seen me."

"Albus," Remus said with infinite patience, as if he shouldn't have to be explaining this at all. "I will continue to help the Order, but Albus you aren't the Ministry. You can't give the Werewolves the laws the Minister can, and so I've chosen to try to see the Minister."

"The Werewolves could have worked with us."

Remus chuckled. "No, we can't, and I've already explained why."

"Ah, the ancient enmity you persist in displaying?" Xeoaph said softly, breaking his silence.

"As do you, every chance you get."

"Now, now," Dumbledore said placatingly. "I'm sure we could work something out."

"We will work nothing out while you stand beside that murderer," Blackpelt snarled as Remus tried to shush him.

Before anything else could be said another aide came up to them. "The Minister will see you now," the wizard said.

"Ah, Nathaniel," Dumbledore greeted the wizard, "I expected Percy."

"Percy is on a mission," Nathaniel told them, gesturing for Dumbledore and Xeoaph to proceed him further down the hallway, towards the Minister's office.

"Remus, we will talk later," Dumbledore said, looking towards the Marauder Werewolf.

"We will, Albus," Remus agreed. "But not about the Werewolves," he added before turning to Blackpelt, "Let's go, we have another meeting to arrange."

"Finally!" the Muggleborn werewolf said with a smile.

As Remus made his way down the corridor, he was sad. He had suspected that this would be the outcome, but somewhere deep inside, he had hoped to be wrong. He didn't really want to ally with the Ministry but he had hoped that they would be more open, that they would be more accepting, yet that possibility seemed gone forever.

Or at least until there was a new power behind the Ministry.

"Remus, wait!"

Lupin was startled out of his thoughts by the cry, and he turned to see the Head of the DMLE hurrying down a corridor towards him.

"Madam Bones," he greeted the older witch. "How can I help you?"

As the witch came up to them, Remus saw the look in her eyes and from it, he knew that she knew that things had not gone well with his attempt to see the Minister.

"I'm sorry," Amelia said, not really sure what she was apologising for.

"It's not your fault," Remus said with a smile for her. He hadn't had many dealings with her, but those he had and those he had heard about all said that the woman was fair, tough but fair, and didn't care if one was a werewolf or not and he felt that he owed her an explanation.

"The Minister would not see me," Remus said softly.

"I suspected as much. What will you do now?"

"As of the last full moon, I am the Pack Leader of the Isles," Lupin said, so that she would know he did speak for the Packs. "I will order the Werewolves to be neutral, but I know some will still serve the Dark Forces. I cannot help that, Madam Bones, not any more than you can help that some wizards will join him."

The older witch sighed. "I know and I thank you," she said and Lupin could tell her thanks were real. "I will try to convince the others that the actions of one or even a few werewolves are not the actions of the whole, but they are unlikely to see it that way."

"We are more than aware of that," Remus said. "I've had the time to become somewhat philosophical about it," he continued. "And now I find the double standards almost amusing... Or I do, when they are not dangerous."

"I'm sorry," Amelia repeated.

"Don't be. This is just the way things are. And if you will excuse me, I'm sure you are busy, Madam Bones, just as I am. We will see each other later."

"Hopefully under better circumstances."

"Indeed," Remus agreed, nodding towards the older witch as he continued up the corridor. Madam Bones was a good woman; at least the werewolves could expect that the Aurors might treat them fairly this year. It seemed such a little thing, but even the little things would help.

"Can you get in touch with the others to arrange a date?" Remus asked Blackpelt.

"Who do you want there?" the other werewolf asked as they emerged on to the street, blinking in the uncharacteristic December sun.

"Yourself, Longtooth, if he's able, Razorclaw, and Talon."

"Are you sure? Razorclaw was really hoping Fenrir won."

"I'm sure," Remus said with an odd smile. "I want him there for that very reason. He needs to see that this offer is genuine and that the Dark Lord is not the only option we have."

"I'll talk to him."

"Find out if anyone needs any help as well."

"Bloody hell!" Blackpelt growled. "I've become a secretary," he laughed.

"Things they never tell you before you take up a role," Remus joked. "Pack Leaders really do need secretaries," he added turning to the other werewolf. "I lead to serve," Lupin said formally.

"I follow to remember," Blackpelt replied, his voice equally formal as he took his leave from the Pack Leader of the Isles. They'd come a long way since the full moon, but they still had further to travel and the sooner they started on that path, the quicker they would reach the end.

Gideon didn't want to do this. But as one of the few fully invested werewolves in the Dark Lord's forces, it now fell to him to relate to his Lord the Werewolves' decision. It should have been Fenrir, but the man had gotten himself killed. Not that Gideon could find it in his heart to blame Remus. The leadership battle had been, in the end, one to the death so it was either kill or die. It's just that no one had thought that Lupin would win over Greyback. There were quite a few of the pack who were thankful, but those who had run with Greyback personally, they were pissed. They would not attack the new leader though, not without other backing, and they had not been introduced to the Dark Lord, which was why Gideon was now here. He ached. The effects of the full moon weighed heavily on him. But he had forced himself to be aware and was dressed in his Death Eater robes, his mask tucked under one arm as he awaited his audience.

His Lord was a very busy wizard. Gideon had always known that there was more to running the Dark Forces than simply giving some orders, but over the past few months, he'd begun to see how much work it really was. His Lord oversaw everything from training to attacks, to healing and to finances. Every little detail of his forces was under his surveillance and all his subordinates received his personal attention, some more so than others. It depended on their needs. Gideon had been left to his own devices most of the time. His Lord had ensured that he was adequately trained in combat, but the werewolf knew he was not anything special. He was merely a soldier, one of the frontline troops. He had not expected anything more. The real fighters, those his Lord spent a lot more time with...they scared him.

Yet in the last few weeks, he had been taking on more duties. He had been talking to the werewolves, as many as he could, to find out what they wanted. He hadn't made any secret of who he was and who he served, but most had been content to talk and Gideon was surprised at the level of support that was with the werewolves for the new offer. In part, that was because it was new but there was also a sense of strength. The new offer gave them a Blood Oath, and that gave them power. While most of the werewolves would never be in a position to make the call on the Oath, the mere fact of its existence was enough to make them feel empowered.

That's how he now found himself waiting upon his Lord's pleasure. Because he'd been talking to the werewolves, he knew what the outcome of the leadership battle was and he was now the one nominated to tell his Lord.

"Gideon." One of the Death Eaters standing at the door called him and he rose, brushing his hands down over his robes to smooth them out.

The instant he entered the Throne Room, Gideon was aware of the watching eyes. Not just the red eyes of his Lord, but the yellow serpentine eyes of the snakes that were wrapped around the throne and the unseen but calculating eyes of the Death Eater body guards.

"Gideon," Voldemort greeted him as he bowed. "I take it Fenrir is injured?" The way he said it was not a question and the young werewolf shuddered slightly at what he was about to say.

"No, my Lord."

"Then why are you here?"

"Fenrir is dead, my Lord," Gideon hoped that getting the announcement out of the way would help.

"Fenrir is dead?" The skeptism in his Lord's voice was obvious.

"Remus Lupin is the Pack Leader for the Isles."

"And how was Fenrir killed?"

Gideon blinked. It wasn't the question he expected. "I don't know, my Lord, but he is dead. His body has been seen and his pack is preparing him for burial."

The werewolf watched as the Dark Lord took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Clearly the Dark lord had not expected this news though he was taking it better than the werewolf thought he might.

"And what are the Pack Leader's plans?"

"I believe he will try to speak to the Ministry. Lupin has always been known to favour them."

"Yes, he is a member of the Order of the Phoenix," Voldemort sighed. "I will not have the Werewolves lost to me this way."

Gideon tensed. "I can suggest he speak with you, my Lord, but I doubt he will voluntarily come."

"Unlikely," the Dark Lord agreed, "though should the opportunity arise, suggest it anyway. For any other werewolves you speak to, let them know I look after those who serve me."

"My Lord," Gideon saluted. "Do you want me to ask how Fenrir died?"

"No, that is not necessary," Voldemort said. "It does not matter now; he was killed. You are dismissed, Gideon, though report back tomorrow. If you are to be my liaison with the Werewolves, you will need further training. I will attend to it."

Gideon nodded at his Lord again before he turned and left, happy to have escaped relatively unscathed and already dreading what the morrow would bring. As soon as he was out of the Throne Room, Gideon took three steps down the corridor and collapsed, letting himself slide down the wall as he sucked in air. He had not been aware how nervous he had been until now.

And it wasn't until then that he realised he had never told his Lord about the other offer the Werewolves had been given.

From the Throne Room Gideon heard a scream and he shuddered, suddenly thankful that his Lord was not torturing him. He didn't know who it might be but he didn't care. For now, he was safe. He would tell his Lord about the other offer tomorrow.

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