A New Potter - Chapter 6

Edited to fix mistakes

A short while ago

I looked down at the two journals in my hands.

"You two are awesome," I chuckled. "Did you take into account that numerous Death Eaters will try to tear this apart and track the source?"

"Of course," One twin said.
"You wound us, sir," the other said.
"They can track it if they want, it's in the cloud," the first twin preened.

That phrase tickled a part of my memory from my other life. I pushed it out of my mind and focused back on the conversation.

"I have no idea what that means," I stated.

"Each journal connects to the other for a brief moment," one twin explained. "It sends a ping containing the message and then stops."
"We used the ink as a binding method," the other twin said. "The message is sent via the moisture in the clouds. If they try to track the ping, it will just show them the clouds."

"And they can't trace it through the clouds?" I asked.

"Please," the first twin scoffed.
"We had to take into account the rare times when there aren't any clouds," the other said.
"It might look instant, but there are quite a few switch-backs and false leads," the first continued.
"Clouds, moisture in the air if there is enough, rivers, pipes, and even people if connections are very limited," the second said.
"That gets a little messy though," the first shuddered.

"And you did all of this in a couple of hours?" I looked at the journals with even more appreciation.

"Technically," the first said.
"We had a similar project that carried over," the other said.

"I'll say it again," I flashed them a smile. "You two are awesome."

I paused in thought.

"Do you know where Snape lives?" I asked.

"Shouldn't be too hard to find out," the first twin said.
"Why?" The second added.

"We should strip his place of anything of worth before the Death Eaters do," I replied.

The twin stilled for a moment. They seemed to realize that this plan would result in Snape's death. Was he a horrible teacher? Yes. Was he a horrible person? Also, yes. Did he deserve to die?

"He's a marked Death Eater," I prompted to keep them on task. "Those marks are earned."

The twins thought this over. They nodded.

"We'll get started on it," they said in unison.

"Be quick," I ordered. "Leave at even the hint of a sign of trouble."

The two saluted and headed downstairs. Now, all I had to do was slip Snape the journal.

Now

Voldemort stared down at the line of text on the page. The rage inside of him reached so deep it wrapped right back around to serenity.

[Feel free to kill Severus. He no longer serves a purpose and is a horrible 'teacher' anyway. Think about it, has he given anything of worth since that night?]

Voldemort found himself chuckling. He summoned a quill for his reply.

[Brave play, Harry. Why don't we have this conversation in person?] He waited for a reply.

[That's the thing I like about you, Tom. Your sense of humor.] Harry wrote.

Voldemort felt oddly calm for some reason. Who knew speaking with this thorn in his side would be so illuminating.

[What do you hope to accomplish with this?] Voldemort did something he was not accustomed to. He waited.

[I want to start negotiations. I have something you want. I want you to leave me and my loved ones alone.] The reply wasn't unexpected.

Voldemort let out a cackle that made every one of his minions to shiver. Bellatrix was the only one to do so in pleasure. Narcissa, thankfully, had decided she was better served elsewhere. The official story was that she was in France trying to recruit more to the cause. In truth, she had stayed there just long enough to change her clothes, dye her hair, and take an international flight to Canada.

[What, pray tell, do you possibly think I would want from you? Aside from your head.] Voldemort watched the text fade.

[The prophecy.] Harry's two words sparked rage inside of him.

The Dark Lord glared down at the journal. How did the little bastard know about it? Did Dumbledore tell him? No, the old goat didn't like to share information. Did Snape let it slip? The man had proven that he was easier to manipulate than previously expected.

[What makes you think I would care about some prophecy?] Voldemort scrawled quickly.

He didn't have to wait long for a reply.

[Why else would you be planning to break into the prophecy room?] Harry wrote.

Voldemort growled, the quill in his hand erupted in flames. The Dark Lord summoned another quill.

[You seem rather well informed of my plans.] He waited.

[Severus finally served a purpose.] Harry's humor came through the words.

The Dark Lord glared at the page. He flicked his wand at Snape. The Potions Master stared at the journal that the Dark Lord held.

"Avada Kedavra," Voldemort barely moved his wand in casting.

The green bolt hit Snape in the chest. He dropped limp to the floor. Voldemort snapped his fingers. A few of his minions hurried forward to haul the body away. They knew to search the body before disposal. Someone would be dispatched to sweep Snape's house as well.

Voldemort didn't want to admit it, but he liked this side of Harry. Maybe the boy could be turned to his cause. An apprentice to announce his complete victory. Having Harry kill the old man would be the perfect little twist of the knife. What better way to show the world how hopeless any resistance would be if he had The Boy Who Lived as his apprentice?

[What are your terms?] Voldemort wrote.

[I will tell you the entire prophecy. You leave Hogwarts and my loved ones alone.] Harry replied.

Voldemort tapped the side of the book. He thought for a moment. What did he gain by avoiding Hogwarts? His Horcrux was hidden there. Willingly backing off of the school would also reduce any suspicion. That is, if they ever discovered he had created more than one Horcrux. Lucius had failed him in protecting his journal. Dumbledore would know what it had been by now. He was under no delusions that the old man was clueless.

Leaving Hogwarts alone would also mean he'd need to find a way to kill Dumbledore elsewhere. Oddly enough, getting the old goat to leave the school was rather easy when the students were there. The Headmaster also spent a considerable amount of the summer outside of the grounds. Keeping the school intact could backfire. It would serve as a sanctuary to those trying to flee. Still, this was a rather amusing conversation.

[That's it? You don't want me to stop my march to victory?] Voldemort smirked down at the page.

If there had been any Death Eaters in the room they would have wet themselves. A smile, let alone a smirk, was not something the Dark Lord did. They thought they could predict his behavior, at least to some degree, but this was a side that no one had prepared for.

[We both know that would go over as well as a fart in church.] Harry's reply appeared on the page.

Voldemort tilted his head back and laughed. How long had it been since someone bantered with him? Defiant last words, Muggle curses, cries of anguish, and screaming he had heard so many times he could conduct a symphony with the sound. These were barbs traded on the battlefield to hide the fear of death. This boy, this wizard had the gall to speak to him like this. Did that make Harry his equal? Not even close, but it was still amusing.

[I have my own terms.] Voldemort finally wrote.

[Go on.] Harry prompted.

A cruel smile crossed Voldemort's face.

~§~

[I want Dumbledore dead by the end of the year. Voldemort's words appeared on the page.

I scowled at the line. Really, I should have seen something like this coming. Honestly, I was mostly expecting him to go on a killing spree and wipe out most of his minions. Voldemort had a much better grasp on his mind than I had expected. Maybe he hadn't made Nagini his new Horcrux yet? That or the creation of one didn't actually harm his mind. That was a line of thought for someone other than me.

[That isn't a simple request.] I wrote.

[I have stated my terms.] Voldemort replied.

[The prophecy and Dumbledore are a steep price to pay. For that, I want Hogsmeade safe as well.] If he was going to complicate matters for me, then it was fair play to do the same for him.

[My, my Harry. Who would have thought you to be so cutthroat?] Voldemort mocked.

[Meet me tomorrow at Gringotts to have a contract written up.] I scrawled quickly. [I will be there at noon. The goblins don't care if we kill each other as long as they get paid and none of them get hurt.]

[Tomorrow at noon.] Voldemort wrote.

I closed the journal, erasing the words from the page. The start of a bastard of a headache was starting to form at the base of my spine. A magical contract would hold us both to our word at the price of our magic. I would make sure that was made clear. Not our lives, our magic. He would betray me in a moment if he thought he could simply die and have his Horcrux bring him back. Living as a squib would be worse than death to him.

Kill Dumbledore.

That wasn't something I had planned on. To be honest, none of this was. I didn't actually have a plan. Still, I needed to give it some thought. There weren't any memories or emotions attached to the old wizard. I'd spoke to him once since I got here, and he hadn't given me much confidence.

I told the others what I thought about Dumbledore and his methods. He was hurting more than helping and I couldn't let that continue. Even with the potential of him being overwhelmed as an excuse. I wasn't going to let this new life of mine burn because he had trust issues.

Kill Dumbledore.

Could I do it? Should I do it? He was slated to die at the end of next year. What part did he play in the story until then? Fifth year was the Order of the Pheonix. This year was when Umbridge invaded Hogwarts. Dumbledore fled the Ministry officials to avoid arrest and left the school in her hands. Wonderful work there Albus. Was it so hard to get a Defense Professor? If he stuck to his normal hiring practices then it would turn out to be some random wizard he met in a pub. That was also the year he had Harry 'learn' mental magic from Snape. Occlumency, that's what it was called.

Sixth year. That was The Half Blood Prince. Sometime over the summer he went to the Gaunt shack and put on the cursed ring. Did he know the jewel was the Resurrection Stone? Maybe that was what convinced him to put it on. It didn't matter in the end, he still died. He also tasked Harry with getting close to Slughorn to find out what the old potions master had told Tom. Then there were the trips down memory lane to see Voldemort through the years.

What purpose did that serve? He already knew about the Horcruxes. What did it matter if it was Slughorn who told him? Why was it important to view the memories? At least the torture with Snape had a goal in mind. No pun intended.

His death wouldn't be all that big of a loss. Sure, people would be upset, but the magical community changed their opinions with a stiff breeze. I could get close to him easily enough. The hardest part would be to keep the task hidden from him.

That did bring another question to mind. Who would be Headmaster if Dumbledore died while the Ministry was trying to oust him from Hogwarts? Logically, McGonagall would take the seat, but Fudge was in panic mode. He would jump at the chance to take control of the school. I couldn't let that happen. Umbridge was a problem I should handle before it became an issue too.

How did I get close to Umbridge without the trial for Underage Magic? There hadn't been any summons. It looked like they weren't too broken up about killing four people in the botched attempt on my life. Technically, they were hollow vessels, but they were as good as dead.

I was going to meet with Voldemort tomorrow. Now, I just had to figure out how to get out of the house without anyone noticing.

"I know that look," an amused voice startled me from my thoughts.

Sirius stood in the doorway. A sly smile told me that he could see I was planning something. I had chosen one of the smaller studies to have my conversation with Voldemort. The office was still opulent and bigger than it needed to be. Various trophies of animals, both magical and mundane, decorated the walls. The carpet was made from some sort of bear-like creature that had markings of a badger. Judging by the size it would have been the size of an elephant.

"What look?" I asked.

"You're up to no good," Sirius replied.

He sauntered into the room and took a seat across from me.

"What are we planning?" Sirius leaned forward to keep his voice low.

"I want to go to Diagon Alley tomorrow," I replied.

Sirius was in dire need of something to do. Why not give him some small prank?

"Does Padfoot get to come?" He asked raising his eyebrows.

"Sure, but you can't come into the bank with me," I answered.

"They don't let dogs in," Sirius waved away my words. "That and they have a charm over the door that reverts Animagus and glamours. The goblins might not care if the Ministry thinks I'm a criminal, but that doesn't mean I want to be seen in the country."

"They don't know you're in the country?" I asked with a chuckle.

"I've got a guy running around South America pretending to be me," Sirius leaned back in his chair. "They don't have any power over there so he's safe. It would be the perfect place to hide, if you wanted to come with me."

"No thanks," I shook my head as I spoke. "I've got things to do here."

Sirius nodded. I was glad he didn't push. Harry may have had his reasons for sticking around, but I'd be fine traveling the world. Unfortunately, I didn't think Voldie would let me. He knew enough of the prophecy to want me dead. Even worse, he believed it and would send people after me the moment he realized I was out of the country.

"Any ideas?" Sirius asked.

"I was going to go simple," I said with a shrug. "Have Ron and Ginny run interference while I duck out."

"That's not going to work," Sirius shook his head. "Molly might fall for it, but Dumbledore made sure to have at least one of the Order here since you've arrived."

"Is there a schedule?" I asked hopefully.

Sirius nodded.

"Any chance you can swap for whoever is on shift tomorrow from eleven to mid-afternoon?" I asked. "I've got a meeting with the goblins at noon."

"A meeting with the goblins?" Sirius asked.

"Something about being an heir," I muttered.

Sirius blushed a little at that.

"Should be easy," Sirius nodded. "I'll go track them down."

He paused in the doorway.

"I remember why I tracked you down," Sirius said. "Hermione told me you sent her to gather Defense books? Anything worth a damn has some nasty curses attached. I'll help her, but I want to be there when you open each one. Plus, I might be able to teach you a few of my own tricks."

"I'd like that," I said with a smile.

I waited until he was gone. Thankfully, he had the decency to close the door behind him.

"Kreacher," I called.

The elf popped into being in front of me. He already looked healthier. The ugly bastard was still hard on the eyes, but he wasn't covered in old dirt anymore. In fact, he even had a clean towel on.

"Master calls Kreacher?" The elf bowed.

I wasn't sure if I liked this 'polite' Kreacher than his previous version. At least then I would expect him to poison my food.

"Can you get me into Hogwarts?" I asked the elf.

"No," Kreacher shook his head. "Only Hogwarts elves and student elves can. House Black has no students. Kreacher is forbidden."

That was the first time I've heard about an elf not being able to get into Hogwarts. Or anywhere for that matter.

"How?" I asked.

"Hogwarts Elves orders," Kreacher replied.

"You could if there was a student from the family there?" I pressed.

Kreacher nodded.

"Get back to cleaning," I ordered. "You don't have to be nice to my friends. Just leave them alone."

Kreacher bowed low and vanished. There was another elf that was an option.

"Dobby, are you there?" I asked the air.

A moment later another elf popped into being in front of me. Unlike Kreacher, Dobby wore a mismatched outfit of clothes that were too big for him. It also appeared that he had two pairs of socks per foot. The cherry on top of his outfit was a familiar set of glasses. I took another look at his clothing with those glasses in mind. Every piece of clothing was one from my old wardrobe. No wonder they all looked so big on him; they were large on me. He sheepishly smoothed down a wrinkle in his stolen shirt. Dobby looked almost exactly like he did in the movies. The only difference being that he was a little smaller than I had expected.

"I'm not mad," I chuckled. "Just don't take any of my new clothes."

"Yes, great Harry Potter sir," Dobby bobbled his head in a nod. "Dobby didn't want Harry Potter to lose his clothes. Dobby thought the best way was to keep the clothes close."

"Don't worry about it," I smiled at the elf. "Can you take me to Hogwarts?"

"Yes," Dobby shook his head in a vigorous nod.

"Do you know Moaning Myrtle?" I asked.

"Yes," the smile on Dobby's face dipped for a moment.

"You don't like her?" I raised my eyebrows in question.

"Myrtle Ghosty leaves puddles everywhere," Dobby grumbled.

"That sucks," I patted him on the shoulder. "I know it's not fun, but can you take me to her bathroom?"

"Yes," the smile on his face returned.

He held out his hand. I took it and we popped away. Elf teleportation was much smoother than when done by a wizard. No idea why, but it was true. I took in the bathroom around me. It looked normal, aside from the cluster of sinks in the center.

"Thanks, Dobby," I patted him on the head.

He leaned into the touch like a cat wanting more attention.

§Open§ I hissed.

The sinks split and spread out to expose a tunnel that disappeared into the floor. Logic would dictate that there was an alternate way down. Or maybe simply some stairs that would come out of the side of the tunnel. I didn't care.

"Follow me," I yelled as I jumped into the hole.

The drop quickly became a swirling slide that would make a waterpark jealous. I was cackling by the time I tumbled out of the end. My clothes were covered in all sorts of grime, I had knocked my elbows and knees a few times, and the side of my face was tender.

"Worth it," I said as I dusted myself off.

Dobby rolled out of the tunnel a moment later. He came to a stop against my legs. His wide eyes stared up at me from the ground.

"Dobby did not like that," the elf said.

"Sorry," I lifted him up to his feet.

The elf snapped, cleaning us both up, and looked around the room.

"Where is we, Harry Potter?" Dobby asked.

"We're outside the Chamber of Secrets," I replied. "Don't worry, the basilisk is dead."

Dobby didn't argue. He stopped talking all together and latched onto my leg. Luckily, he was a little guy and didn't weigh all that much. It was awkward walking with him hugging my leg, but I made it work. The collapsed portion of the tunnel hadn't been cleared, which I took to mean no one had been down here in the past few years.

I flicked my wrist to draw my wand only to remember that it was on the side table where I had been sitting back at Grimmauld. My aggravation turned into purpose as I shifted my attention back to the pile of rocks rather than my empty hand. I took a breath to center myself, then reached out with my magic. It swirled around me even easier than back at the safe house.

Carefully, I shaped the pile of stone into an arch. It wasn't pretty, but the path was clear, and it looked stable enough. Dobby looked from me to the newly created arch. He snapped his fingers. The appearance sharpened to the point it looked like it had always been there.

"Show off," I teased.

Dobby started to wilt.

"I'm sorry, Dobby, don't get upset," I soothed. "I was trying to be funny. I'm sorry."

Dobby pulled a piece of cloth from his pocket and wiped his nose. I noticed the Gryffindor crest a moment before he stashed the handkerchief away. He nodded and flashed me a watery smile.

"Ready?" I asked.

He nodded.

We continued on until we reached the next door. A bit of parseltongue opened it without an issue. I took the lead, stepping into the Chamber first. There was a fresh layer of dust on everything, except for the corpse of the basilisk. In fact, the body looked completely untouched. Even the discarded fang was still where it had been tossed after the diary had been destroyed.

I froze when I saw it. Logically, I knew it was dead, but the creature was huge. It took a moment to convince my body to move closer to the giant snake. My steps grew more certain after it didn't spring back to life to swallow me whole. I aimed for the fang rather than the creature.

A puddle of clear liquid pooled around the fang. It wasn't the right color or gooey enough to be the remains of the Horcrux. I drew my knife as I got closer. Carefully, I dipped the blade into the venom. It was interesting to see the knife soak up the fluid like a sponge. The liquid flowed along the blade, settling in a pattern akin to Damascus. It took a moment to settle. When it did, the blade was highlighted with squiggly waves of white that stood out nicely on the silver.

I now had a blade that would kill just about anything as long as it could draw blood.

"What does Harry Potter need with that?" Dobby asked in a whisper.

"We're at war, Dobby," I carefully sheathed the knife. "I need a weapon."

"Dobby doesn't like it, but Dobby understands," Dobby held out a hand for me to take.

"Do you think someone would buy that?" I asked motioning to the corpse.

"Oh yes, Harry Potter sir," Dobby was grateful for a change of topic. "Potions, wands, and many things be made from big snake bits."

"Goblins?" I asked.

"No," Dobby shook his head. "Goblins don't like snakes. Big snakes, small snakes, all snakes bad."

"Anyone else?" I asked.

"Dobby doesn't know," the elf looked up at me with tears in his eyes.

"It's fine," I soothed. "I'll ask Sirius when we get back." I paused. "Can anyone get down here?"

"No, Harry Potter sir," Dobby shook his head, the unshed tears seemingly forgotten. "Old magic protects this place. Dobby can't get in or get out without you here."

"Only a parseltongue can open it," I shrugged. "Maybe it's something to do with that."

"Harry Potter is smart," Dobby stated.

"Thanks," I chuckled. "Can you take me to Grimmauld place, please?"

We popped away.

~ ~

NOTE:
There will be at least one more chapter of this story before I move on. It's rolling around in my head and picking up steam.