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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08/03/2013

Thank you to everyone who reviewed. I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Sailor_Sol Thank you for the review. I know Chapter 86... and this one Chapter 87... I realise it can be slow going but that's just the way I chose to write this fic. Cheers and I hope you continue to enjoy.

she-who-waits-in-darkness Thank you for the review. We won't be reaching the end for a little while. It's a bit daunting! But good. I hope you continue to enjoy!

Weapon LXXXVII Actions Don't Go Away

The Dark Lord tapped long white fingers against the arm of his throne as he thought. The Prophet was boastful about Harry and some wench being together and the Shadows had explained the circumstances to him. He understood. He more than understood the situation his beloved found himself in… but he did not like it.

The bimbo was too close. She knew too much. He recognised her. How could he not recognise the red-haired witch he had entrusted with his blood? But while she was controlled then by her own desire, now he did not know. And that was worrying. More worrying was the fact that other witches might think they could touch Harry. The boy had not proclaimed this love for the harlot. Voldemort treasured the fact that Harry would not proclaim any tramp to be his beloved, but that fact left the green eyed wizard open to further pursuit by others. And with the play for the Order, that the floozy was meant to be the love of his mate's life the lack of proclamation could become problematic. It was difficult to know.

With a determined shake Voldemort brought his wandering thoughts back to the present. What did it matter? He snarled almost on reflex. It mattered. Harry was his and no one should dare to even think about touching him. The mechanics of the situation were not his problem, the situation was! But unlike the Order, or the Ministry he was a Dark Lord. He did not need to justify his actions and he could be far more elemental when dealing with these little… issues. The reasons he cared about. Just like directing chess pieces the reasons for the various movements were important but the action itself… This was definitely a case where he wanted to do something so he would. And the world should definitely hear this message.

"Bellatrix!" Voldemort called for the witch and was not surprised when she appeared quickly, stepping out from behind one of the pillars. It was almost scary her … devotion. But he could use it.

"My Lord!"

"I have a task for you."

Bellatrix laughed softly to herself as she crept through the thin dawn light. Just when she had been beginning to doubt her Lord, just when she wasn't sure, he had gone and given her an order of such absolute purity that it sent her shivering. The tone of his voice, the fire raging in his eyes and the sly smile creasing his lips… The witch quivered. In moments like that, standing under his gaze, she could never doubt.

But she did doubt. She could delude everyone else but she could not delude herself. It had been better in the past few weeks since Halloween but it had not been the same as the past. She didn't think it was her, or at least not entirely her but she couldn't actually put her finger on one thing that was causing her discomfort. The new ally was a part of it but not the entire thing and having watched them for a little while, Bellatrix was reluctant to admit that they did seem useful. She needed to talk to her Lord… truly talk to her Lord in a way she hadn't since… since before she became a Death Eater.

Back then he had been charming and their conversations stimulating. She had been attracted to his frank openness about his plans. It had been wonderful to talk to someone who, unlike the rest of her family, wasn't afraid to show his affiliation towards the Dark. Even once she became a Death Eater it had been good, he had been good. They hadn't had as many long conversations as before but the times they had spoken were memorable, even the way he gave orders. Bellatrix licked her lips as she remembered. It had been a glorious time… the fear, the blood, the sheer power they had all wielded just by their presence.

And then it had ended! All at the hands of a babe.

And now that babe was untouchable. Bellatrix understood, even agreed that Harry Potter was her Lord's kill but why did that mean that they couldn't Crucio him a little before delivering him? It wouldn't permanently damage him. But her Lord was adamant, and the darkness and the serpents behind and around him when he proclaimed that had been strong in their support, the snakes yellow eyes still haunted her with the flash of power they had shown.

She had recognised the look from old and knew what it meant. No matter how much she disagreed, disobedience would lead to death and so she silently raged against the order. There had been orders in the past she hadn't understood, hadn't agreed with but she had eventually seen their wisdom. This one… this one remained unfathomable. Why shouldn't they be able to hurt Harry Potter any way they could?

Which is why she was happy about this order. This order would hurt the brat. Not directly but Bellatrix well understood the insidious nature of emotional pain, of the way it crept under your defences, of the way it lingered and lurked, growing stronger so that when it struck, it would leave its victim a quivering mass of nothing. Unless you saw the collapse though, it somehow lacked the release she got from causing physical pain but she would take what she could get in this case. And besides, with her Lord claiming the brat's life, she would no doubt see his demise. It would be sweet, knowing that as he whimpered, as he begged, she had been a part of breaking him.

Bellatrix rose, twirling her wand as she looked down at the house. It was secluded and ramshackle and she could smell the magic in it. It was cloying. The usual wizarding spells for soundness, strength and against vermin were there but there was other magic thick on the house. Family magic, children… It stunk. Other places had the feel of family magic, but they had a certain elegance and refinement. The Black Manor as she was growing up was always tastefully understated but this… This was obscene and why anyone would want to call this hodge podge of stuck together rooms home she did not know. But someone did, many someone's did from the feel of the magic, all layered with their signatures and suddenly Bellatrix understood why this place was called 'The Burrow' on the Floo network. The family was poor, yet they breed like rabbits. It suited them that their house should be called an animal's hole.

With a determined flick of her wand she began drawing light wards before she brushed fire towards the top of the house interspersing the spells with little puffs of wind to fuel the flames. The point this time was simple. Fear could be created through death but fear could also be created through destruction. By proving that the Dark Forces could attack where they wanted and when they wanted and that no one, not even long serving members of the Order of the Phoenix were safe. Her mission today allowed for the possibility of escape, hence the light wards she had drawn, her desire allowed for the certainty of death. The one occupant she could feel would not get away.

Arthur had risen before dawn and had disappeared to the office. While usually Molly could have slept through that, she was used to rising early. This wasn't always a good thing. The house felt especially empty in the mornings when it was just her. Bill was off somewhere with Gringotts though he had indicated the possibility of a visit later in the year. Charlie was practically chained to a dragon in Romania. Percy was like Arthur in that he practically lived at the office, but he'd also rented a small apartment and so she only saw him on weekends. At the moment he was overseas on some Ministry business and Molly felt both proud and scared for her boy. The twins, those of the never quiet mornings had somehow found the money to start a business. Despite her nagging, they had never told her where or how they had gotten enough to do that. They simply assured her that the money had not been ill-gotten. For all their other faults, the twins were not liars and so while she remained suspicious, she accepted that. And Ron and Ginny were both at Hogwarts which was arguably the safest place to be with both Dumbledore and Harry there to defend it against attacks from the Dark Lord.

Molly shook her head to clear away such maudlin thoughts as she slowly brewed a pot of tea and sat down at the table to enjoy it. She should enjoy the mornings where she no longer had to rush around preparing eight breakfasts before even thinking about her own. But she missed it; the hustle and bustle and the laughter and noise. It had become a part of her. And she hoped it had become a part of her children on some level. It would stand them in good stead for the future.

As she sipped her tea, trying to enjoy the relative quiet, she noticed that the house was hot. Hotter than it should have been for a winter morning. And there was a soft crackling noise coming from one of the floors above her. She'd ignored it because of the ghoul but as Molly rose, her face turned upwards as if she could see through the floors she felt something cold flick through her body. The noise wasn't the ghoul. Almost instinctively she flicked a cold charm above her not even thinking of the irony of casting that when it was snowy outside.

If anything the heat became more intense and as Molly mounted the stairs she was driven back by a wave of superhot air. Fire! The thought screamed its way through her mind and she began casting cold charms in earnest, not really caring where she was aiming but generally above her. The soft crackling was becoming louder and she could feel the house groan under the pressure of the heat.

It wasn't until she tried the version of the flame freezing charm that was for inanimate objects and she felt the magic ricocheted back to her that Molly realised the fire must be deliberately lit. Molly Weasley was known as a sentimental woman, but she was also sensible. Seven children had given her a practical streak a mile wide and the instant she knew the fire was deliberately lit, she gave up the fight for the house. Deliberately lit meant an attack, and an attack meant more power than she alone would be able to stop. Instead she bustled down the stairs intent on floo-ing to the Hogwarts and the Order. If they got here quickly enough, they might be able to catch the Death Eaters in the act.

Calmly she re-entered the kitchen, casting a last lingering look around. They would rebuild but you had to be alive to rebuilt. She reached out to the floo powder jar and threw a generous handful into the small flames of the kitchen hearth. She waited for the flames to bulge and turn green but nothing happened. Another handful went into the flames and Molly fought back a rising sense of fear. Again nothing happened and the powder dusted over the wood, giving it a sparkling coating that threatened to extinguish the small fire there.

Molly shook her head to focus and thought about Hogsmead, focusing on appariting. She didn't like apparition but she was perfectly capable of doing it. Focused as she was, she felt her magic surge through her body before reaching out, the way it did for apparition, seeking a lock on the destination. That sort of thing was usually close to instantaneous so you never really noticed it with the wild spinning sensation that usually accompanied apparition, but as her magic found nothing to lock on to, Molly became aware of how strong the line was. It barely extended anywhere and instinctively she sent her mind along the path of her magic. Anti-apparition wards loomed before her and she hissed.

Outside Bellatrix chuckled, feeling the aborted impact of floo and apparition against her wards. She flicked more fire towards the hole, this time towards the door. In as much as she would have liked to see the panic and pain in their eyes, allowing them access to the door would be too close to the wards. They might escape, and her Lord had said she may kill, and she intended to do just that. It had been too long since she had felt the searing joy that came with that expression of power. The ultimate expression of power and she intended to savour it.

Anti-apparition wards and the floo had been disabled somehow. Molly assessed the information. That was a standard Death Eater attack routine. She might be stronger than the caster, but there was likely to be a few. Death Eater's seldom attacked alone so while she might have been able to over whelm the wards, the chances were unlikely. Which meant she needed help. As the kitchen grew hotter and she listened to the noise upstairs, Molly's thoughts were clear. Gently she raised her wand and summoned her patronus. Death Eater's seldom raised the wards that affected patroni from running around but she already knew it, even moving at the fastest pace, her patronus could not reach help in time. Still, she had to try.

Once the silvery form was away she looked with sharp brown eyes around the kitchen. The flame freezing charm may have been blocked but that block could not stop her casting it on herself. That was internal magic, much like the animagus transformation which could not be blocked easily and Molly doubted that the Death Eater's would have bothered to raise that type of ward. They were invasive and difficult and frankly, unless you knew your opponent was an animagus or especially skilled at wandless magic, you didn't bother with them. So that was the first order of business and she raised her wand with a purpose.

Next she cast her eyes to the ceiling. Above she could hear the crackling of the fire and she could feel the heat. She could also dully hear the thump of items as they crashed into the floors above. The flames and the heat would not bother her. No, the trap here was suffocation or blunt force injury as the house collapsed around her. She had her magic and already Molly was casting what charms she could to re-enforce the structures. She thought briefly about trying to make it to the door, and into the garden outside, but in her estimation the likelihood of death increased. Outside, she'd make a very easy target for an Avada Kedravra spell. Inside, the heat and smoke and debris would be difficult, but at least she had a chance.

With a determined flick of her wand, Molly extinguished the small kitchen fire and cleared out the hearth. Then she settled herself into it, pulling herself into the opening as much as she could and casting every protection charm she could think of, including the bubblehead charm as the room began to fill with smoke. This wouldn't guarantee survival but it was her best chance.

Remus rested his chin on his hands as he looked over the room. Chained in the corner, like a dog, was one Wilbur O'Haresh. The slightly portly wizard was staring up over Remus' shoulder which was not too bad on sensing direction given that a conjunctivitis curse had been applied to his eyes and they were milky white. The wizard's glare was fearful, though it still held defiance. Lupin's gaze was hard and he was looking at more than the wizard.

The discussion with Harry… No, the Shadow Lord, the Werewolf Pack Leader corrected his thoughts. He couldn't get into the habit of thinking of Harry his ally. The Shadow Lord was the Werewolves Ally, and that was all the answer anyone would get, and only after the pain of torture. The discussion at The Hogs Head had gone well. The deal had been done in the Forbidden Forest when the Shadow Lord had given them his Blood in the Oath but the discussion at The Hogs Head had been fruitful. It had worked out how they could make many of the agreements actually work in reality.

Remus felt it had been an educational meeting for all concerned. Razorclaw had seen how much the Shadows had already thought about the mechanics of their agreement, when the Lord offered some very practical solutions to some of the obvious problems. And the Shadow Lord had seen that the Werewolves were willing to work beyond the bounds of the agreement, where it was in their best interests.

Instruction had gone out to the Packs that they were to maintain neutrality. And that was all. No further details were given. They were maintaining neutrality because it was the new Pack Leader's desire though there had been hints in the instructions that anyone needing help, just had to step forward. In that manner, Remus promised to be one of the more benevolent Pack Leaders. Even if the alms he gave were not his own.

So, they had worked out how to distribute Wolfsbane and that operation would no doubt grow over time. They'd worked out how to put the charm on the Werewolves, though that would not be for a few months and would be done in a batch. It had been worked out how to pass money to various Pack Leaders if it was required and the Shadow Lord had told them of the Laws he intended to put in place, and the amount of time he required to do that.

It had been a very profitable evening and it had settled the lingering doubts of Talon and Razorclaw nicely. There would be future meetings, just not soon. In all likelihood, not every Pack Leader would need to be there in future either. That should make gathering less dangerous. Remus could not forget the Vampires. They may not show it, but they were no doubt looking for a way of striking at the Werewolves. Nor did Remus forget about his personal safety. He had told an Elder Vampire that he was the Pack Leader of the Isles. He had told the Ministry that, though they may not have realised the implications of that. He would be vigilant.

The ending of the meeting is what was concerning Remus now. There had been one further section of the agreement that no one had brought up. Lupin was no expert at law but he rather wryly figured that if the Shadow Lord had decided to 'forget' that part of the agreement then the Werewolves had no claim upon it. Before the Oath it had only been mentioned as a selling point, but it had not been included in the discussion in the Forbidden Forest, so it could be legitimately claimed that it was not part of their final agreement.

Until the Shadow Lord voluntarily included it.

Which is what lead Remus to be here, staring at the werewolves' prisoner, Wilbur O'Haresh. It had almost been comical, the way the five gathered pack leaders had been at a loss when the Shadow Lord had presented the man. None of them knew who he was, but once his name was announced, they knew. Razorclaw had snarled, almost wanting to bite the man even in his human form but Remus had cautioned against it. He didn't quite know what he wanted to do with the reporter.

The man had reported on Gideon, one of the Werewolves whose loyalty was firmly with the Dark Lord… But Gideon had been freed, by the Shadow Lord… and that was not something the Ministry was being very forthcoming about. Given that Gideon had been freed, it didn't seem right to bite O'Haresh… but that left the question of what to do with him. They could not free him.

Remus sighed. Razerclaw and Talon had been pleased with the gift from the Shadow Lord and if Lupin was honest with himself, he could see Harry's logic. But he was the one who had to deal with the mess now.

"So why did you do it?" Remus asked eventually and the instant he spoke he realised the question was not correct. It should not be why, it should be how. Who had tipped off O'Haresh that Gideon was a werewolf in the first place, let alone one loyal to the Lord Voldemort. O'Haresh was the economics reporter… He just didn't… shouldn't have that type of knowledge and even Elliot couldn't tell Remus how the man had exposed Gideon.

"Do what?"

"Gideon Prayleor," Lupin said, knowing the name should be explanation enough.

"So, you some sort of do gooder who believes in equality for animals?" The reporter snapped.

Even though he couldn't see it, Remus smiled gently. "Not at all," he replied and his smile tightened into a grin when the wizard before him relaxed slightly. "I'm the Pack Leader of all the Werewolves on the Isles."

The silence was almost palatable.

"Oh come now," Remus said, sitting back in his chair comfortably as he imagined how Sirius would handle this. The man could be positively cruel when he put his mind to it and it was that aspect Lupin needed now. "You don't think werewolves existed without some sort of organisation? If we did, then you wizards would have wiped us out long ago."

"…" Even with his sharp hearing Remus couldn't make out the words.

"What was that? It's impolite to mumble and you are a journalist! You are meant to speak clearly!"

"Animal!"

"Oh, that's not very nice," Remus chided. He wasn't usually the vindictive type, the one who rubbed in their victory. That was more Sirius' thing but he had spent a long time watching the canine animagus so he was more than capable of acting the part. "Really, all I want to know from you is one thing. I want to know who tipped you off about Gideon?"

"I don't know!"

"Protecting them won't help you."

"I'm not protecting them."

"Then tell me."

"I can't tell you because I don't know who it was," Wilbur said with exaggerated patience and Remus rather imagined the man would be rolling his eyes if he could.

"So you published on a tip from an unknown source, which was potentially a lie?" Remus asked the question, making sure his voice was laced with skepticism.

"The tip came with proof."

"Oh?"

"It included his Death Eater mask."

"I always knew The Prophet was a moronic paper," Remus muttered, not bothering to temper his words. "A Death Eater's mask is so much proof," he added.

"So what are you going to do?"

Lupin considered the question. That really was the central consideration for the moment. What was he going to do with a prisoner? "Half the packs want to bite you and then dump you somewhere, without the support of the rest of us. That would be… just punishment, I must admit. But it is not the way we are and would only re-enforce everything bad about us. I suppose I could just apply a memory charm and let you go, but then that would disappoint the one who fetched you for us."

"Who was that?"

"An ally," Remus said easily. "You are a gift, Wilbur, from our ally to the Werewolves as a whole. And it would not do for me to reject that gift, not when I'm sure they went to a lot of trouble to secure you." Actually Lupin wasn't sure about that last bit. Harry didn't say but it didn't matter.

There was silence for a few moments as Remus thought before he sighed. "Here's what I'm going to do Wilbur. You are going to be bitten. I think that's a fitting punishment. I might even let Gideon do it but you won't remember who did it. Oh, don't worry about the reaction of your co-workers or the Ministry. They aren't going to know anything. To them, you've already disappeared."

"I won't remain hidden," Wilbur spat with conviction. "I'll report you."

"No, you won't," Lupin replied. "You know exactly how werewolves are treated. Oh… I agree there will be a bit of outrage that you were bitten, but then the outrage will fade and you will be outcast. I'm sure you know what happens to Werewolves… but you haven't really experienced it. If you go back, you will first hand and I guarantee it will be an experience you will not enjoy. You will be much better off accepting the arrangements I make."

That seemed to silence the reporter for a moment, then he tried a new method. "My friends will look for me."

"Ha!" the Pack Leader of the Isles laughed. "What friends? You know as well as I do that you only have acquaintances that care very little for you. Now you can of course go back to the Ministry if you want. I'm not going to be in such a position that I have you watched very day but I would advise you to accept the Pack I ask to help you."

"So I'm just meant to put up with whatever you decide."

"I am the Werewolves' Leader, and by that stage you will be a werewolf, and while we aren't like vampires, in that you are not obliged to obey me, I would advise that you do not go against the arrangements I make. The Ministry, The Prophet, and wizards in general aren't accepting of werewolves."

"You wouldn't dare?"

Remus grinned. Oh the number of responses Sirius' could have given to that… He was a bit more limited but he could answer well enough. "Who's going to stop me?" That said Lupin rose and took the few steps towards their prisoner. He reached out one hand and gently patted the blind Wilbur by way of parting before he walked out the door. Remus still wasn't truly happy with having a prisoner, but if they had one, then he would fulfill his duties as the Pack Leader, both the good and the bad duties.

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