Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Other Worlds	By : OrdinaryMortal Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 15372 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter & BBC's Sherlock characters and worlds contained within are not mine, nor do I make any money from them. Thanks to their creators for letting me play in their sandbox. Please review! Prompts considered!

Chapter List
- 8
- 9
- 10
The door closed behind the newest DADA professor, and Albus slipped off his affable eccentric persona, scowling fiercely at his bowl of doctored sherbet lemons. He was still angry at himself for misreading the Snape situation; he would have sworn on his magic that the boy had heard the 'prophecy' he'd Imperiused the Trelawney bint to declaim aloud, but there had been no indication that Voldemort's organisation were acting upon it. That transparent fool Malfoy had either become the Occlumency master he fancied himself to be in the last month, or, more likely, had no idea other than of the vague rumours he himself had planted.
He waved a hand, and the firewhisky decanter rose and floated over to the glass on his desk, pouring out a stiff measure. Snape had to have heard; his magical signature had tripped the ward on the stairs, so why had he not gone to Malfoy? He was going to have to delve into that one. However, it didn't matter as much now Pettigrew was primed.
Oh, Malfoy had practically laughed in his face, his thoughts had been so loud when Dumbledore had submitted his recommendation for the DADA post to the board. Really, the impassive Malfoy mien might work on lesser wizards, but his mental walls were soft and yielded easily to strong emotion, or strong Legilmens, for that matter. As if Pettigrew had slipped past his awareness! The little rat may as well have worn the Dark Mark on his face! He'd be worse than useless as a spy, but disinformation spreading was quite another matter, and the curse on the job would ensure Dumbledore didn't have to put up with him any more than a year.
Arranging to be called out of his office during the syllabus planning meeting was child's play. A lightly locked drawer was always irresistible to the little sneak thief, who was as much a kleptomaniac as Fletcher, though slightly more clever. Clever enough to have hooked up with friends who pretty much carried him through OWLS and NEWTS, at any rate. The prophecy transcript buried six sheets down had trilled it's tiny ward alert not even five minutes after Dumbledore had left to deal with the imaginary house elf issue, and he'd had another three minutes to scan and replace it before Dumbledore had, rather noisily, come back up the stairs.
No, Voldemort would have the 'prophecy' by nightfall. Either child would do, though the Potters would personally be more satisfying, what with their fading loyalty to him. Oh, they were Light, no question, but outside the walls of Hogwarts and away from his regular influence, the mild Compulsion that all the Order members wore had evidently not been strong enough. The Evans chit had even come asking for a job after twice openly disagreeing with him at a meeting!
Potter himself had refused Dumbledore's suggestion of Pettigrew as Secret Keeper. Damn the boy for not staying in better touch with his old friends during his Albanian mission for Voldemort, as now Dumbledore wasn't certain who held the wards. Probably the wolf boy, seeing as Black had shown his true colours and been rejected so thoroughly. At least some people were predictable. Even Pettigrew would pick the wolf out for Voldemort, however, so if it were him the secret would come out - the veritaserum-laced candies had always been extremely effective on Mr Lupin, and if questioned that way the day of or after his Change his memory was always so fogged that he wouldn't remember anything about their little chats. Idly, Dumbledore wondered if Pettigrew would consider using the serum on the Wolf, or just hand him over for torture. Either would work.
Snape, though, would need careful monitoring. Perhaps, in not revealing the prophecy, he was trying to lull Albus himself into trusting him. Maybe he was going to try playing both sides? Mentally Albus snorted. Unless he knew exactly where loyalties lay, there was no use in feeding information through dead-end channels. Galling as it was, he'd have to wait until Snape tipped his hand. Truly neutral people were rare, particularly in the Wizarding world of extremes he'd worked hard to subtly develop, though those who hid their head in the sand and tried not to notice the War were extremely common. Snape would give himself away by the end of the first term, Albus had no doubt, and then he would know how best to use him.
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Narcissa Malfoy didn't pace. Blacks never paced. She hadn't thought they ran around after megalomaniacs either, but Bella was always slightly peculiar. Malfoys didn't pace either, undoubtedly, but a Black wouldn't waste time pacing and wringing their hands; they would spend the time planning, instead. When they weren't planning to marry their daughters off to the highest bidder, they planned to make the best of every situation, to turn it to their advantage.
This situation was not to her advantage.
There were definite gaps in her memory, gaps that frightened her. She had a good mind, had excelled at school, had entertained daydreams of continuing her education, even, and gaps in a mind like hers meant only one thing.
She was being Obliviated. Frequently. By someone who didn't care enough to be subtle, but just scooped out her memories -and did what with them? How many times had she had this thought process before? Had she tried to escape before? She had no illusions about the end result needing to be just that. Lucius had no regard for her personally, and none for Draco, for all he declaimed about 'His Son And Heir'. They existed purely as props for him; the beautiful and dutiful wife, the properly descended son, both existing to showcase Lucius in the most attractive light. And when he tired of the Adoring Husband And Father pose, she was beginning to suspect he'd adopt the Heartbroken Widower character.
Well, Blacks were not intended to be supporting characters in someone else's play. Getting out would be difficult and dangerous, because he would never forgive her for breaking his façade, or removing his heir. Merilee might help, but Lucius would go to the McKinnons straight away, and her husband had never been very good at resisting Lucius. The Parkinson's were holding themselves firmly neutral, at least until there was a clear winner to back, and Marigold would be all ill-concealed but well bred horror if she turned up on the Floo hearth. She had carefully been distanced from all of her school friends, she realised with dawning dread. She would have to take a risk and approach Severus; throw herself on his mercy as Draco's godfather, see if he could appeal to Dumbledore to hide her. It would endanger him, for which she was sorry, but she would endanger every one she knew to protect her boy. She could only hope she hadn't tried to do this before.
--------------------
Mycroft sat down behind his desk. 'Oh, do stop pacing, Severus, it's not at all conducive to reason.'
Snape slumped into the nearest armchair, and put his head in his hands.
'Neither is giving into despair, Cousin', Mycroft mildly pointed out. 'The Potters and Longbottoms are informed, and behind Fidelius for now, and we are finalising escape routes for them. They will be out of England by the end of next week. The rumours surrounding the prophecy have been swirling all summer; frankly I'm amazed Dumbledore left it this long before slipping the actual prophecy to Voldemort. You have clearly been confusing him.'
'Pettigrew is manifestly not Dumbledore's man, though', Severus fretted. 'His mind is so weak the Dark Lord would have had him dead at his feet if he attempted to spy. I am worried that he knows so much about the other Marauders though. Sirius is spitting fire, and it's only his natural shields, and worry for his brother and Remus, that is keeping that from exposing himself.'
'How is Regulus doing?' enquired Mycroft politely.
'Out of danger, thank Merlin, though it was close. By the time we'd traced his signature it was nearly too late for the antidote to take effect. He should be able to move from Prince Manor with Sherrinford tomorrow . Unless Voldemort triggers the inferi himself, the golem should fool him if he returns to the grotto and sees it under the water.
'And Remus?'
'As long as he stays at the Manor out of sight, he'll be fine. The full moon will be difficult, as Sirius has been sent to Portugal on a mission, and the wolf gets restless in his absence, especially out of his territory.'
'Will he consent to leave with the Potters?'
Severus raked his hand through his hair. 'I don't know. The distance from his territory will weaken him, unless I can find a way around that. So far he's saying yes, but realistically he may not be able to cope long term away from the Forbidden Forest.'
Mycroft nodded. 'Sherrinford is working as fast as he can with our connections. We'll need you in place until at least the end of the school year, I'm afraid, but then Sirius will have to work alone. Not ideal, with Regulus out as well, but you will be more useful in the new situation, and Minerva can take over the school duty by then. The Order are currently planning a strike against Rosier Place on the 31st, so expect to be summoned for medic duty that evening.'
'Thanks for the warning. I'm sure Poppy must be running low on the usual potions after Quidditch trials and practice, so it won't look odd if I start producing batches tonight'
Mycroft stood. 'Well, reassure the Potters that they'll be moved on the 1st or 2nd at the latest. I've spoken to the Longbottoms tonight, and they will be moved out a day or so after. I'll contact the Manor and let Regulus know Sherrinford's elf will collect him tomorrow.' He moved round the desk and clasped Severus' arm. 'Do try and get some rest, Severus. Worrying won't help, and the strain of occluding the added emotional load will exhaust you. We just have to get everyone through the week, and you'll know first if any movement is made and be able to warn us. Go back, lose yourself in Potions for the rest of the night, and we'll Floo tomorrow'.
-------
Pettigrew thrashed, screaming, on the floor at the foot of Voldemort's throne. Dispassionately, Voldemort watched the man's agony, while Bellatrix, arms draped around the Dark Lord's neck, wriggled excitedly in his lap. Lucius held the spell for another four heartbeats, then let it drop. The screams subsided, and Pettigrew lay whimpering, tears streaming down his face, clearly too exhausted and wracked with pain to move. Bellatrix pouted, and nuzzled up against the Dark Lord, whispering in his ear. He laughed. "Now now, my dear. We don't want to break our ratty friend's mind permanently, do we?"
"But it would be fun", she muttered. Lucius snickered. Voldemort tapped her chin with a long finger. "You can have fun another day, Bella dear. We just need to be absolutely certain that dear Peter hasn't forgotten anything, and that he's telling the truth."
"Please" gasped Peter from the floor. "Look at the memory, take it out, you'll see it's all true!"
"Ssh now" soothed Voldemort." We will, of course we will. But I just like to be certain it isn't a conjured memory, and Lucius does so like to get the chance to practice his gifts. You wouldn't want to deprive him of the opportunity, would you? Bella, dear one, help Lucius out, will you?"
He nodded regally to Lucius, and Lucius gently murmured "Legilimens" as he captured Pettigrew's gaze. Bellatrix gleefully cast the Cruciatus again, and Peter screamed once more.
------
James and Lily stood wrapped in each other's arms in the little cottage garden, listening to the soft music coming through the kitchen window.
"It's hard to believe Harry won't grow up here," sighed Lily, gazing at the little sandpit. James held her a little more tightly for a moment. "We wouldn't have lived here forever, Lils. It'd be too small for us in a couple of years anyway. Harry won't want little brothers and sisters tripping over his things all the time."
Lily smiled at the thought. 'He'll be a good big brother, won't he? If they take after him, you might get your Potter Quidditch team after all. They could take on Molly's brood! Her youngest is the same age, you know. It would have been nice if they could grow up together..." Her voice trailed off, and James tapped her chin fondly. "Hey there, Miss Pessimist! It's not permanent exile, you know! It might only be a few months. Then we'll be back, and we can move into the Estate, fill it up with Harry and Lily clones, and when it's all too much we'll let Severus and Remus entertain the kids and we'll slip off back here for dirty weekends"
"Oh, well, that sounds a nice idea. Dirty weekends, eh? I'm not sure I remember what that involves..."
James laughed out loud. "Oh ye of lousy memory, let me remind you", he purred. Giggling like school children, they slipped back into the house.
- 8
- 9
- 10
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