Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Freedom Bound in Chains	By : TaintedSensibly Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Slash - Male/Male Views: 58478 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 13
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Harry Potter characters. I did not make money from this story.

Chapter List
- 97
- 98
- 99
A/N: Thank you guys for all the feedback and support!!! I have a ton of good ideas thanks to everyone!
I had a few people ask about my updating schedule. I usually update every week or every other week, but as the story is in a critical stage where I have to make decisions on the future of the work, updates will be a little slower.
Expect monthly updates. At least until October?
If I can get chapters done faster than that, then I will post them, of course, but I’m going to take some time to make sure the story is true to itself and also that it is moving forward the way I envisioned when I started the project. As the boys get older and more characters are introduced to the story, I am finding the story line splitting attention away from Draco, Harry, and their relationship. I need to think about how I’m going to balance the plot with the character study this was meant to be.
Again, thank you SO MUCH for sticking with me and continuing the series! I hope to get back to weekly updates soon!
Hide and Seek
Remus crunched through snow almost calf-deep in places. The sleepy little village was quiet, not even birds sang in the cold morning air, and yet… It was still beautiful. The shops hadn’t opened their doors. The windows remained dark. Many wouldn’t, as it was December 30th, New Year’s Eve eve. The sun had begun to crest the mountain ridge at his back, edging the air with gold. Clear and pristine, the sunlight was pure in a way it rarely was. For a moment, he could exist in the sunlight and think of nothing else.
The smell of baking bread was just beginning to fill the street as he passed the last house along the road and started up the path to the school. His thighs ached terribly, the pain becoming hard to ignore, burning hot and fierce. He’d left the hospital too soon, driven forward by Draco’s ultimatum and the realization that he’d been running from reality again.
Liam’s apartment had been only a few blocks from the club, but getting back to the Leaky Cauldron had been a much longer walk. Remus should have found a shadowed alley and Apparated, but he hadn’t even thought of it. His mind was still trying to grasp everything he’d seen and learned. He was still reeling from the past colliding with the present. He was anxious. He didn’t know what it meant for the boys or their future. He didn’t know what it meant for him, selfish as that was.
Remus had become nowhere near as influential or significant in the boys’ lives as Liam had been. Remus had hovered on the edges of their world, let the Malfoys and the Tonkses take over. He had no right now to worry about being pushed out. But he was. He loved those boys more than he’d ever allowed himself to admit. He cared about their wellbeing and future. He wanted to be there for them. It wasn’t until Draco had threatened exile and Liam had burst through that door that Remus had realized just how much.
Regret stung him bitterly that he’d wasted so much time fading into the background! If Draco and Harry were cut out of his life, it would be left so damn empty and barren. They were his family. He knew that now. He’d only been hurting himself and them by keeping his distance.
Like Jess had said, he didn’t by any means understand what the boys had together. He didn’t approve of it. But he loved them. And, the truth was, he couldn’t honestly say he was worried about their safety. Draco was too much in control and too focused on Harry’s wellbeing. And Remus couldn’t honestly say the relationship was damaging them emotionally. He had evidence that suggested that the boys would be even less well-adjusted without the relationship in place. So their relationship wasn’t something he could or should change, not as it was now at least. Understanding and approval weren’t necessary. Acceptance was.
The castle seemed to sparkle as he passed the gates. Sunlight danced on the windows, making them shimmer almost like waves, and Remus felt warmth pass over him. Had it not been so cold, he may not have even noticed. Red stained his cheeks and a smile softened his lips. He was being welcomed home.
Despite the cold air, he was sweating before he even started up the grand staircase toward Gryffindor Tower. He had to stop and take several breaks along the way. He’d gone from limping to out-right staggering, but he told himself he could rest in the tower. He had to see the boys. He had to tell them he was theirs and that Liam was back.
“By Merlin, are you quite all right?” The Fat Lady stared at him in shock as Remus staggered up to the painting, his shoulder hitting the wall hard as he panted and sweated, gritting his teeth.
Remus flapped his hand and took a few minutes to catch his breath. “Yes, I realize now I should not have attempted the stairs, but once I was halfway, I felt I had to push on.” He gave her a wane smile. “Do you know if the boys are up yet, Lady?”
She titled her head, a look of concern on her face. “There is no one in residence at the moment, sir.”
Remus blinked. The day after the battle over the Stone, Remus had been potioned mostly into unconsciousness. When Draco had come to speak to him a day after the battle over the Stone, he seemed well enough and he’d said Harry was awake. They had talked. Had something gone wrong? Had his conditioned worsened?
“Draco and Harry are still in the infirmary?” he questioned rather sharply, worried about Harry’s condition.
“I do not know,” she answered, wide-eyed. “Something occurred and everyone has been removed from the tower. Even the Weasley children staying over the holiday have returned home.”
Remus closed his eyes. So while he was agonizing over selfish concerns and his own personal weakness yet another situation had occurred. “Very well.” His eyes opened, a little more golden than they had been. “Thank you for the information.”
“Of course, dear.” Her face softened. “You were always such a good boy.”
Remus gave her a polite smile and made his way slowly back down the stairs. It took him nearly an hour, but he finally made it to the Headmaster’s Tower. He rode the moving staircase up to the Headmaster’s office in silence. Truth was, he exhausted from the pain, but he refused to show it. With a blank - albeit pale - face, he pushed open the office door… only to stand there and gape.
The office was, simply put, trashed. The bookshelves were half empty. Books were flung about, lying open or face down here and there. The curtains had been torn from the window and lay half burnt across the floor. Debris and knickknacks were strewn about. Some looked bent out of shape and damaged. There were claw marks scratched into the walls and across the floor as if some huge beast had attacked. Dumbledore’s desk had been cracked in half. The tall-backed chair behind it was knocked on its side. The two guest armchairs had been reduced to kindling.
Remus’s legs could no longer hold him. He staggered over to the steps that led to the Headmaster’s apartment and sat heavily, giving a low, pained cry as he did so. His head hung. Sweat dripped down his face and he tried to breathe through the screaming agony. It felt like his thigh bones were about to snap in half once more!
Fortunately, after a few minutes of getting off his feet, the hot poker through his legs became a less painful burning ache. That was when Dumbledore arrived, undoubtably alerted to Remus’s presence in his office by the wards. Remus should have stood or greeted his old wizard, but courtesy left him completely as he just stared. A darkening bruise marred the side of Dumbledore’s forehead along his hairline. He walked with a slight limp and held himself stiffly.
“I am in a bit of disarray,” Dumbledore said softly with none of his usual brightness. “I hope you forgive the mess. Pulling his wand from his robe, he lifted his knocked over chair over the broken desk and set it in a clear area facing Remus. “I assume our young Mr. Malfoy sent you here for his answer?”
Remus blinked, his mind suddenly racing. Something significant had happened. Something between Draco and the Headmaster. And Remus had stumbled into it. He hesitated, trying to decide if silence or admitting ignorance would be more damaging to whatever Draco had in play here. Had Draco destroyed the room? Attacked the Headmaster? Remus’s heart pounded in his chest. If Draco had, then Remus was now in the presence of an enemy.
As Dumbledore looked into Remus’s guarded expression, he felt even older than his one hundred and ten years. Molly’s reaction to the news had been more violent than he had anticipated. Her magic was vengeance-based, a mother’s magic, and not so easily erased or dispelled, so he would have to bear the bruising for a few days before potions could heal him. He was also exhausted. He’d been closeted away with the four Heads of Houses discussing what would be done with the school for nearly eighteen hours now. Remus’s arrival had been surprising, but a welcome distraction.
Leaning tiredly on the arm of his chair, Dumbledore slipped his glasses off his face and sighed. He could feel Remus’s silence like an added weight to his shoulders and he wondered just how much Remus had been told. Did he know the perpetrator had been Peter? Did he know about Sirius’s wrongful and horrific imprisonment? He suspected not. Remus’s closed off expression was hard to read, but Dumbledore suspected Remus would be very easy to read indeed if he knew the names of all involved.
“I must say, I am surprised Mr. Malfoy would require an answer so soon,” he said tiredly into the lengthening silence. “The children haven’t yet returned back to the school.”
“Did Draco…” Remus hesitated, his eyes flickering around the room.
Dumbledore did smile then. “No. He is innocent of this much at least.”
A frown flickered over Remus’s face, not liking the implication that Draco was ‘guilty’ of something else. Perhaps especially because he was. Dumbledore of all people should understand that Draco had been forced to it, in large part due to the Headmaster’s own manipulations!
“No,” Dumbledore repeated and his smile died, replaced by a deep look of sadness as he gazed around at all the destruction. “Mrs. Weasley was justifiably upset and could not control her magic when she heard the news.”
Remus’s eyebrow lifted. Molly Weasley?! What in the hell had happened! It was time to come clean. He bowed his head. “I apologize, Headmaster, for not speaking up sooner. I was taken aback by everything and my legs are causing me a fair bit of pain. I’m exhausted. I did not mean to imply otherwise, but Draco did not send me. In fact, I am in search of him.” Looking up at the Headmaster, he asked softly. “May I ask what has occurred?”
Dumbledore sighed, slumping a bit in his chair. “I must say I am glad I was mistaken for I have no answers to give at the moment.”
Remus was really quite startled at the Headmaster’s condition. He looked incredibly weak and fragile. It felt so wrong to be sitting on the steps like a disrespectful child while the Headmaster clearly had need of assistance. “Can you summon some tea, sir? I would offer to fetch some, but as I said my legs are very unhappy with me at the moment.”
Dumbledore straightened a bit. “No, no. I am fine. I will go up and rest in a moment. I will send for Poppy. She will help you with your legs. I believe Draco is in the care of his father at Malfoy Manor. Feel free to use my floo.”
That being said, the Headmaster cast his phoenix patronus and it soared through the office wall. Remus pulled himself to his feet, wincing as it made the pain in his legs flair up unbearably again. Dumbledore gave him an exhausted smile and briefly rested his hand on Remus’s shoulder as he passed him on the stairs.
“Do excuse me, my boy.”
Remus watched in shocked silence as Dumbledore entered his apartment and shut the door firmly behind him. Staggering over to the Headmaster’s chair, Remus sat heavily.
When he had been charged with finding Harry, he’d suddenly had children to protect and care for and his hero worship for the Headmaster - faded after ten years of traveling Europe - shattered completely. Dumbledore was a great wizard and even a great man, but he was as flawed as they all were. That didn’t make the Headmaster evil or an enemy, but it made him human. Even still, seeing him like this, it sent a chill down Remus’s spine. He couldn’t imagine what had happened to bring the man so low. Dumbledore being defeated meant terrible things for the rest of them and that was quite frankly terrifying. He had to find the boys!
Poppy arrived just when Remus had convinced himself not to wait for her treatment. He opened his mouth to ask her if she knew what was going on, but after seeing her expression, he closed it without speaking a word.
Poppy’s eyes were red-rimmed and swollen from hard crying. Her face was pale and she looked exhausted. She refused to meet his eyes and went about checking him without any conversation. Once her scans were complete, she handed him two potions from her apron.
“It is as I suspected. Take the orange potion now and the purple in an hour,” she told him, still not meeting his eyes.
“Is it okay for me to walk?” he asked carefully.
“It will be painful and will prolong your recovery, but due to your accelerated healing, it shouldn’t cause permanent damage.”
“Thank you,” Remus said softly, but she didn’t seem to want his thanks. She turned and left without another word.
Grimly, Remus swallowed the tangy orange potion. It sizzled on his tongue and down his throat. He pocketed the purple and made his way to the floo. Throwing powder down, the fire flared green and he called the address to Malfoy Manor. A magical wall prevented him from stepping through, but an elf’s head appeared and asked him for his name.
“Remus Lupin,” he said, body tense. He knew the Malfoys disapproved of him. He would likely not be on the welcomed list and would be prevented from coming through. “It is urgent,” he added desperately.
The elf titled its head. “Yous may come through, Mr. Lupin,” the elf declared and disappeared from the flames.
Remus, surprised this had worked, stepped through into the opulent Malfoy receiving room. He was greeted by elegant, antique furniture. Creams and peaches shaded the walls and accents of the room. Beautiful marble and china seemed to hold a shine in the golden morning sun that flooded through the large window. He immediately felt out of place and shuffled his feet painfully on the thick rug covering the golden hardwood floor. Fortunately, he only had a minute to get worked up before Lucius Malfoy strode into the room, distracting him.
Lord Malfoy looked like the aristocrat he was. Hair pulled back at the nape of his neck and secured with a ribbon. Expensive midnight-blue day robes, sleeves rolled up as if he’d been pulled from some task. Malfoy unrolled them in quick, efficient tugs and buttoned the cuffs. His cold grey eyes were filled with disapproval, the corners of his mouth turning down, as he took in Remus’s slightly disheveled Muggle clothes.
“Has Draco sent you, then?” he asked, tone as chilly as the winter winds outside.
Remus’s heart sunk. “No. I’ve come in search of him,” he answered politely. “Is Draco not here?”
Lucius sneered. “What my son sees in you, I will never understand,” he drawled with perfect contempt. Turning his back, he snapped, “Draco and Harry left for Andromeda’s. You know the way out,” and he strode from the room with a swoosh of his robes.
Shaking, Remus turned and grabbed for the floo powder. His legs were burning like fire, but he was even more alarmed than before. Why had Lucius greeted him personally? It was the wife’s place to welcome guests, even unwelcome ones. There had been something ominous in the air around Lucius and shadows under his eyes. What in the hell as going on?! Dumbledore had said the boys went home to the Manor. What had caused them to leave so quickly?
Remus flung the powder down and called out the address to the Tonkses in London. Their wards couldn’t compare to the wards around Malfoy Manor, which had been added to and built upon for centuries, but they were some of the strongest wards Remus had seen around anyone’s personal dwelling and required a substantial amount of power from both Ted and Andromeda to maintain. Fortunately, Remus had been keyed into the wards and he could pass through without problem.
Stepping clear of the fireplace, Remus became aware of low, intense voices coming from the kitchen. He heard the low timber of Ted’s voice, but he couldn’t make out what the man was saying. Andromeda’s higher voice, although hushed, was more audible.
“I don’t care, Ted! We’ve been a this for hours! Even if you could, by some miracle, convince me two men together isn’t unnatural, they are too young! It’s not right! I won’t have it!”
Remus opened the kitchen door and found Andromeda standing on one side and Ted standing on the other. Andromeda stood with her feet braced, her cheeks flushed, and tears falling from her eyes. She looked mad. Her hair messily framing her face. Ted, on the other hand, looked as calm as ever, but his eyes held an intense gleam that was very unusual for the usually laid-back man. Both of them looked over as Remus entered. Andromeda gave a huff and turned her back, hiding her face.
“Remus,” Ted rumbled a polite acknowledgement.
Remus’s first instinct was to ignore what he’d overheard. It touched too close to home. A subject he, himself, was still struggling with. But the hot throbbing of his legs, the exhaustion of the constant pain and a sleepless night, made evasion impossible. He gave a sigh of his own and leaned painfully against the door jamb.
“I’m not going to pretend not to know what you’re talking about,” he said quietly, dropping his eyes to study the kitchen tiles. “You aren’t alone in worrying about the boys, Dromeda. However, I’ve come to the conclusion that there is no denying the boys are happier, stronger, and healthier together than they would be apart. Believing anything else is ignorant delusion. As contradictory as it may feel, if it is the truth that you love them and want the best for them, then you will have to accept, even if you can’t agree with, this fact. The only other choice is to wage war with Draco in trying to tear them apart, and don’t fool yourself into thinking Harry wouldn’t fight you just as hard if not harder. Kids or not, they would win and you would lose them forever, at the very least. The only other possible choice is to let them go. Let them be together, but cutting them out of your family and receding their welcome. Those are the only choices before you.”
Andromeda had turned around and stared at Remus in shock. Ted looked just as surprised, but his attention quickly returned to his wife to see how she was taking this.
Remus’s eyes held flecks of gold as he looked up and made eye contact with the distressed woman. “Personally, I find two of those choices unbearable. Therefore, I have decided that I will stand by the boys and accept that though their love for each other is something I can’t understand completely, I love them both regardless and nothing will change that.”
Andromeda slammed her hand down on the counter. All attempts at keeping her voice down, not wanting little Denebola to get more upset than she already was, went out the window. Her hazel eyes glinted with fury. “You make it sound so noble. I am shocked at you, Remus! They are elven years old! Mere children! Clearly the horrific abuse they suffered left more damage than we realized if they are performing such acts together. They need help! Not half-hearted approval given out of a fear of losing their love! We are the adults! It is our responsibility to make sure they grow up healthy and safe! Even if it makes us unpopular!”
“Of course this is a result of their abuse,” Ted agreed passionately. He reached out to his wife in entreaty. “That doesn’t mean their relationship is abusive in itself. They went through something together that we cannot begin to comprehend in any real way. Only they know what they need to heal from it. And if that is loving each other, then how dare we say it’s wrong! How cruel would we be to try and take that away from them?”
Andromeda violently knocked away her husband’s reaching hand. “You are weak, Ted. You are too afraid of hurting their feelings to give them the help they really need.”
“And how exactly do you plan to do that?” Remus asked, voice pitched low and dangerous. He felt his protective instincts flare at the violent act. It was a tone neither Tonkses had heard before from the usually mild-mannered man. They stared at him in shock. “I take it the boys aren’t here. They fled the Manor only to face further rejection. I fail to see how you could possibly perceive that as helpful.”
“How will you get them to return or to trust us if you insist on this, Dromeda?” Ted exclaimed.
“I am Harry’s guardian!” she snapped. “And I will do what’s best for him! I’m sure the Malfoys would not approve of this development between the boys. I doubt they’d disagree if I proposed they keep their son while I take Harry!”
Remus flashed a sharp, predatory smile made the worse by the scars that distorted his cheeks. “So like a Black. So fixated on your own desires that you’ll destroy the thing you claim to want while trying to get it.” He turned his back. “I hope you change your mind, Andromeda Black. Because if you don’t, you’ll lose everything.”
He didn’t wait for her response, instead furiously limping down the hallway and back toward the fireplace. Did these people not realize the stress these boys were under? It was infuriating! Draco and Harry had come face-to-face with the specter of Voldemort. They nearly died! Draco had been in a coma for nearly a week before that. And then something else happened on top of that, something that led Molly Weasley to trash Dumbledore’s office, attack the most powerful wizard of their time, and take all her children home.
The boys didn’t need this strife and conflict where they should have felt safe. He had to find them! Remus had to hope that Draco hadn’t taken to the streets. Not during winter in London. There was one more place they could have fled. Remus was praying he’d find them there. They’d figure all this out once he had the boys somewhere safe. Andromeda wouldn’t be the first Black he’d had to reign in.
…
12 Grimmauld Place was an old townhouse in the Muggle Borough of Islington. It was an ironic location for Pureblood supremacists like the Black Family, one of the twelve Sacred Bloodlines. However, it did make a kind of sense. The Blacks had survived in part due to their healthy paranoia.
Crouching in a purely Muggle neighborhood, they could monitor and guard against magic used in the area, and after several hundred years, 12 Grimmauld Place was a magical fortress. Tucked away in northwestern London, a twenty minute walk from King's Cross Station, it was both Unplottable and hidden behind a Fidelius Charm, the house was invisible to all but a few. In fact, the neighboring Muggles didn’t even know the unit existed!
Ownership of the house transferred with the title of Lord Black. Orion, Cygnus’s cousin/brohter-in-law (yes, Orion had been a Black who had married a Black), had inherited the title Lord Black from Walburga and Cygnus’s father, Arcturus Black the Third, in 1953, but in the year 1979, Orion challenged the Dark Lord in a fit of madness, blaming Voldemort for the death of his beloved youngest son, Regulus, who had gone missing. Orion had not survived the duel. The title Lord Black had then passed on to Cygnus’s disgraced nephew, Sirius, but once Sirius was sentenced to Azkaban in 1981, the title had then passed on to Cygnus.
Tragically, Cygnus had not known of this until seven years later when he’d been forced to leave his refuge by Malfoy. He’d returned to Grimmauld Place and had been shocked at its disrepair. He’d spent the following three years getting caught up on all he’d missed: his nephew Regulus’s disappearance, his brother-in-law and cousin Orion’s death, Narcissa’s infant son’s kidnapping, the fall of the Dark Lord, Sirius and Bella’s imprisonment, his sister Walburga’s death, and finally Narcissa’s son’s return with a soul bond to the Boy-Who-Lived. It had been a lot to comprehend! And the more he learned, the more questions he’d had.
Apparently Walburga had remained in Grimmuald Place, isolated and alone except for her House Elf until she died in 1985. Her portrait had hung in the hall, but it was hard to get information from her through all the fanatical rants. Clearly, her madness had already progressed too far when she’d done the magical impression. No one knew what had exactly killed her, not even her portrait, but there were many whispers of suicide. Much like his beloved Druella. Cygnus, even after all this time, felt deep pain at the thought of his wife.
In 1973, Druella had chosen death, which was the cause of his complete seclusion with the Hermits of the Noble Path. He had done everything he could to console his wife after Bellatrix had refused her arranged marriage, taking up the Dark Mark, and Andromeda had given birth to a Half-blood daughter, officially contaminating the Black bloodline, but he hadn’t been enough. In a moment of inattention, she had managed to take her life.
Druella had been an incredible woman. A Rosier at birth, a Black by marriage, she was brilliant and absolutely beautiful. She would have raised incredible sons, but instead fate had given her three daughters. Cygnus had done his best to support her, but only Narcissa hadn’t disappointed them in the end. Andromeda had always been contrary and willful - Cygnus suspected the Black madness had taken her early. As for Bellatrix…
He had to admit that Bellatrix had been their fault. Druella had fallen into a downward spiral, consumed by the Dark, and his youngest daughter had suffered because of it. By taking the Dark Mark, Bella had foresworn marriage and childbirth, thus refusing to continue the bloodline and carry forward their history. It had been a terrible blow, but at least Bella’s heart had been in the right place by supporting the Dark Lord in his effort to restore the Wizarding world.
In the end, it had turned out that Bella had a higher purpose. A fate more important than they could have ever conceived. Their sweet Bella would indeed give birth to a child, a child that would change everything. Had Druella survived to see this day, she would have been overjoyed! His Druella would have thrived in this environment, with the political intrigue and strategizing. She would have made an incredible advisor to the new Dark Lord. This knowledge only made Cygnus’s grief all the more unbearable. How cruel fate was!
Cygnus stepped into the sitting room on the lower floor of Grimmauld Place to find Bella sitting on the window seat. The sun fell on her black curls and lily-white skin. She basked in it despite the winter cold coming off the glass. Eight days after the Solstice and Bella’s stomach already had a gentle curve to it, the child within growing at an unnatural rate. Cygnus wasn’t concerned. It was only to be expected as the baby was conceived and born of ritual magic and not nature.
Narcissa sat with her, running a brush through Bella’s curls. She was completely healed from her beating, physically at any rate. From what he could tell, the damage to her core after years of searching for her son would be more long lasting, perhaps even permanent.
Cygnus couldn’t help but admire his daughters’ beauty, especially when paired together. With similar angular features and crystalline blue eyes, they were essentially opposites. One was tall and slender, blonde hair long and straight. The other shorter with an hourglass figure, black hair curly and falling just past her jaw. One was reserved and serene. The other was wild and passionate.
“How are you feeling?” he asked Bellatrix quietly, coming to sit near them in an armchair. Narcissa stopped her brushing motion upon Cygnus’s entrance and dutifully gave him her full attention.
“I am well, Father,” Bella answered with a wide grin. Her hand cupped her stomach. “He grows strong.”
Cygnus nodded his head. “Make sure you eat,” he told her absently, but most of his attention was on Narcissa.
He still wasn’t sure how much he could trust her. She had arrived near beaten to death for her betrayal to House Malfoy, but she was still a woman. In disgrace or not, she was bound to Lucius, and her son would always be a priority. She could not be fully trusted not to turn on them if it meant protecting her husband and child.
Not that that was necessarily bad. Draco Malfoy was of Sacred Blood. He was Pure. He was powerful and from what Cygnus had gleaned, Draco was also brilliant. He was a male Heir to both the Black and Malfoy lines. He should be protected. Lucius was the problem. He had proven many times to put his own self-interest before the success of the Restoration.
“Narcissa, we must prepare,” he began, eyes pinned to his middle daughter. She may not be capable of devoting herself wholly, but she could still be useful to him and the cause. “The Ministry has only grown more complacent and bogged down with bureaucracy. The Muggle threat looms more than ever, their technology a growing danger to our survival. All the while, the Sacred and Pureblood families have dwindled at an alarming rate.” He stepped forward and placed a gentle hand on his daughter’s dark curls. “Bella is doing her duty. But what of you? What role do you hope to play in the Restoration?”
Bellatrix turned so she was sitting side-by-side with her sister, the sun now hitting her back. She reached over and gently stroked Narcissa’s forearm. In a soft humming-like, sing-song voice, she said, “Cissa’s a good girl.”
Both Narcissa and Cygnus ignored her. They’d come to accept that due to either her bloodline, the ritual, Azkaban, or Lucius, Bella was quite mad. Narcissa met her father’s eyes, a calm strength burning in their depths. “I am with our people, Father. I will do whatever is necessary to protect our culture and our home.”
He nodded, hand dropping from Bella’s head. “You will speak with your sister. Compile a list of every known Death Eater. I will need to begin collecting those whom I feel will be useful to our cause.” His dark blue eyes pierced her to her core, expecting perfect obedience. “The strongest wizard in one hundred years will be born again. This time we must make sure he is successful. I fear the Wizarding world only has one last chance to save itself before turning to rot and ruin.”
“Yes, Father,” Narcissa answered dutifully, dipping her head in a bow. Bellatrix hugged her.
“Also, I would also appreciate it if you were to put together a detailed portfolio of current events for the Dark Lord to review,” Cygnus added casually, but his eyes were sharp. This would be a perfect test. Information she exaggerated or left out would be telling on where her loyalties lay. “Knowledge is power. He will need to be well informed to be successful.”
“Yes, Father,” Narcissa answered again for all the world looking like the perfect Pureblood woman, attentive, intelligent, and graceful.
Cygnus reached out to gently touch Bella’s hair once more, but there wasn’t a soft look of love on his face. His expression was hard and calculating. “The Dark Lord shall have a solid foundation to work from when he returns.”
Narcissa watched her father leave the room with a calculating look of her own. Lucius had provided his memories of every interaction with the entity stored in the Diary. Bellatrix also loved to recount her experience with the Dark Lord during the Ritual of Rebirth. It was clear to Narcissa that this new Dark Lord was not the terrifying wizard they had known ten years ago. Lucius was correct in that assessment at least. Therefore, there was still a chance to save her sons.
The job she had been given was perfect. She could document the Dark Lord’s instability and ineffective campaign that culminated in his defeat in ‘81. It might influence this new incarnation to take a different path. She would also have to build a strong case for why Draco and Harry should not be targeted.
It shouldn’t be too hard, after all Harry did contain a piece of the Dark Lord’s soul. But perhaps that was also damning. Perhaps the Dark Lord would tear through Harry to get it back. If she could just arrange it so that the new Lord swore a vow of neutrality, Draco would do the same to keep Harry out of the line of fire.
A sense of grim determination washed through her, seemingly dulling the colors around her even as her focus seemed to sharpen. Narcissa was aware her plan depended on the new Lord being reborn as sane and young as Lucius and Bellatrix had found him. She hated gambling with her sons’s lives, but she had no choice.
Bellatrix was mad, but she was still a powerful witch. Her sister would not give her an opening to assassinate her or the child. For all her humming and sweet gestures, she watched Narcissa like a hawk and slept behind powerful protection wards. Their father was also very much alert to any betrayal. One wrong move, even the suggestion that she was not with them, and Narcissa would be removed ruthlessly.
The thought pained her deeply. Her father had always been so noble, so powerful. She admired and loved him, they all did. Years of lessons at his knee, of being introduced to magic and ritual at his side, and learning their honored family history… She cringed at the thought of disappointing him.
Narcissa wished with all her heart that she could just give herself to his leadership full-heartedly and embrace the joy at finding him here, but the threat that grew rapidly day-by-day in Bellatrix’s womb drove her forward. The idea of betraying her father made her hands shake and her chest feel too tight, but her love for her children was stronger.
But perhaps… if she were clever enough, subtle enough… she could tie them all together, forge an alliance that would save them all. For a brief moment, Narcissa closed her eyes and asked Circe, goddess of Magic, to bless her. Then she turned her attention to her sister. Bella was rocking slightly back and forth, humming gently, arms wrapped around her middle.
“Bella,” she said, tone gentle. “You told me the Dark Lord is young and powerful. He may not remember his glorious days during his rise to power.”
Bellatrix stopped rocking and fixed Narcissa with an intense look.
Narcissa stared back impassively. She had long ago mastered weathering such scrutiny. “Tell me everything. Spare no details. I will record it in my report for our Lord,” she suggested, all the while plotting to subtly highlight the fact that as great and powerful as Lord Voldemort had been, he’d also been out of control, unproductive, and insane. She would not fail! She had to guide the new Dark Lord in her favor… in Draco and Harry’s favor. “How did it come about that you received the Dark Mark?” she asked innocently. “We never did speak of it.” Her voice softened and she reached up to gently touch one of Bella’s curls. “I always felt… responsible… because I was not here to assist you.”
Bellatrix turned back to face the window, silently requesting that Narcissa keep brushing her hair. “Sometimes… I blamed you,” she answered quietly. “You made it look so easy. Marring the Pureblood husband. Becoming the Lady of a House. Mother did her best, but I was always falling short.”
Narcissa’s expression remained neutral as she began to brush her sister’s hair, but a surge of emotion nearly choked her. She knew what failure would have earned her at their mother’s hand and internally cringed. Bella had betrayed her, stolen her precious child, condemned him to a life of slavery and abuse, but she was also a broken thing and still her little sister. The conflict of those two realities tormented Narcissa terribly.
Bellatrix’s voice grew light and manic once more, drawing Narcissa out of her thoughts. “Mother worked with me after I was pulled out of Hogwarts while you finished your last year. To prepare me for a husband and steep me in our culture, to make sure I would not abandon it as Andromeda did. Then once you were married, she went in search of a suitable husband for me.” Bella turned to stare at her sister with wide eyes. “She settled on the Lestrange brothers. At first they were both interested and they had several interviews with me, but I chose Rodolphus.”
Narcissa was surprised. Rodolphus had the worst reputation, the cruelest personality. She had always assumed he had been their mother’s choice, but Bella had chosen him on her own?
Bellatrix quickly explained. “I know I let you think it was Mother’s idea! I am sorry, Cissa, but no one understood! Over time, I grew to love the Dark magic Mother practiced. It had such an exquisite feel, even when used against me. So rich and powerful. I thrilled in it and learned to cast it in secret. It made me feel so powerful. It was the one thing I could get right! I was so good at it, Cissa!”
“How did that lead you to choosing Roldolphus as a mate?” Narcissa asked calmly, but through numb limps.
“Rodolphus knew even more Dark spells than Mother. Such beautiful spells,” Bella sighed dreamily as if she was a girl much younger than her thirty-four years. “I asked him to teach me in secret.” She laughed, high and manic. “He was not pleased when I began to cast better and stronger than he. He refused to show me more.” Her expression twisted into fury. “The Year of Courtship was coming to a close. Mother and Father had already signed a betrothal contract and Rodolphus had accepted. He promised to tame me. How dare they think they could take the Dark from me!”
“No one could,” Narcissa agreed softly, knowing that by that point it had been too late to save Bella’s sanity.
Bellatrix grinned. “Yes! You understand!”
“How did you make your way to the Dark Lord?” Narcissa asked, pushing the conversation along. She felt exhausted, weighed down by grief.
Bella spun fully around, hands grasping Narcissa’s face. Her eyes were wild, a dark fire burning in them. “He was Called unexpectedly when we were together. It was fate, Cissa! I grabbed hold of him and traveled with him to his meeting. He punished me severely before I was finally brought before our Lord.” Bellatrix shivered. “Cissa… the magic… I can’t describe the magic…”
She couldn’t imagine being subjected to the Dark Lord’s wrath. Narcissa celebrated the Dark holidays and did not hesitate to participate in Dark rituals, but her gender had saved her from the more death and pain-based spells. The spells that seemed to twist the user as much as it tortured the victim.
Bellatrix began to hold too tight, her nails cutting into Narcissa’s skin. “Our Lord complimented me on my endurance and graced me with the opportunity to prove myself. I was given the day to recover and the next night I was set free show Him why I deserved a place among his Death Eaters.” She began to breathe heavily, lost in the memory. “I was Marked that very night.”
“To be the only female Death Eater is a great honor.” Narcissa just wished it hadn’t been her little sister. She carefully pulled Bella’s hands from her face and held them tightly within her own to keep them from doing anymore damage. “Perhaps we should document this more thoroughly. I could extract the memory, as well as the memories of any meetings or missions. It is important for our Lord to have a perfect understanding of events.” Silently, she added, And important for me to manipulate them as much as I am able.
“Yes,” Bellatrix hissed, eyes slitted in anticipation. “Yes, go fetch your vials. It will be my legacy to our Lord.”
“A great legacy indeed,” Narcissa murmured the praise and rose gracefully. “I shall return momentarily.”
Chapter end.
A/N: Again, I apologize for the delay in updating. I hope all of you will stick with me as I work through this challenging time.
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Freedom Bound in Chains