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Voldemort had always known that he had done well to bet on the Unspeakables duo, Rookwood and Dolohov to find out as much information as possible about the Boy-Who-Lived. Even if, for some reason, these two seemed to have a weak spot for the Survivor, they never hesitated to carry out the orders of their master and Voldemort was – dare he say it? -proud to see that his minions were doing everything they could to get their hands on information about the brat.
Therefore he was not surprised when, while a Death Eater from the first circle (he had already dismissed the Death eaters from the lower floor ) made his report on the leaks to the Ministry, the Unspeakables duo decided to take the floor to tell them that they had got their hands on a highly controlled artefact, allowing them to spy on a person of their choice thanks to a drop of blood from said person. And it just so happened that Voldemort had the drop of blood in question. Kept under stasis since his 'resurrection ' almost two months earlier.
He wouldn't say it but he was proud of those two.
This brought us to the present scene: he and his death eaters, forming a circle around a very powerful magical artefact. The instrument illuminated itself when Voldemort dropped the drop of his enemy's blood ( thanks Merlin, Wormtail hadn't thrown all of Potter's blood in the cauldron that night ) and a large sphere took place in the air, inside the circle of black capes.
// Potter was lying in a bed, looking asleep. The room itself was small and devoid of personality. It was like a prison room. There were even bars on the windows. //
Did anyone else kidnap Potter without Voldemort’s consent? Oh, they were going to pay.
//The-Boy-Who-Lived-To-Become-A-Thorn-In-The-Foot was dressed in a white shirt too big that fell on his thighs and lay on his side, knees slightly folded. Suddenly his eyelids opened, revealing large emeralds, staring at the wall with an empty look. //
Well... it didn’t look like Potter... Potter who was always so full of life that it irked Voldemort (at the same time, now that he thought about it, all their encounters were situated in a situation of life or death for the youngest ) when he was fighting. A noise in the distance made him blink. The angle of view resumed a normal field of vision. They were no longer in the close-up. It was then that they realized something.
“Is it... blood... on his hands?”
"Don’t be silly. He would have to have dipped his hands in a pool of blood to get so much on him. It’s probably painting or something...”
Even the death eater seemed doubtful of his theory.
// Potter suddenly straightened himself up and his thin pale legs left the bed.
Once he was standing, the dead eaters blinked.
"You know what ? said the first one to speak. I think my theory of blood was the right one," he said then as they were all staring with bewilderment at the shirt that the teenager was wearing.
As much as it looked immaculate from the back, the front of it was absolutely covered with blood splashes and... there, it was not even "splashes" anymore.
What the Hell happened to him ? Where did all the blood came from?
// Still looking empty, Potter opened the window and pushed the bars on the side.
From the marks, the bars had once been fixed to the window and had not been there just to look pretty.
"Harry!"
Two figures with flamboyant red hair jumped out the window and landed in front of the boy Potter. He blinked. The twins had the same reaction when they made the boy’s condition worse.
"Did you kill them?"
There was no accusation in his tone, which puzzled their audience because the Weasleys were known to be pro-light and anti-murder ( even though the murder in question was an act of war, which was hypocritical given the murderous spells they were throwing on their side ). If anything, they seemed worried ABOUT Potter. They didn’t even look scared when they saw the state he was in.
// Harry kept an empty gaze, staring at the wall without seeing it.
"I think I killed them."
He slowly brought one of his blood-covered hands and gnawed his nails. One of the redheads reacted quickly and grabbed his hand, ignoring the barely dried blood on it.
_ Don’t do that. Who knows what kind of disease their blood may contain.
… How shall I put it… They didn’t expect that kind of remark. It wasn’t the kind of reaction you’d expect from any sane person. If anything, it was more the kind of reaction that Rabastan Lestrange could have by scolding his sister-in-law, Bellatrix. It wasn’t very reassuring.
Voldemort glanced across the throne room and noticed, with a touch of resignation, that most of his Death Eaters seemed transfixed by the Potter brat and that the Dolohov-Rookwood duo seemed extremely satisfied - if a bit worried, with what they saw.
And Voldemort knew what they were thinking: they thought that if they saw what Potter could do (since when Potter was okay with the idea of killing someone? ), then maybe he would finally give up his goal which was to kill the little brat before that one kill him.
But didn’t that mean that Potter was all the more qualified to kill him now? … On the other hand, if Voldemort announced that he would stop trying to finish it by any means, maybe Potter wouldn’t try to kill him in return?
Ah... decision, decision...
"Okay, sighed one of the redheads. They’re down there, right? (Potter nodded slowly) I’m going to go clean up a bit.”
The other redhead nodded his head as he took it upon himself to pull Potter out of his post-insane murderous trance.
The angle changed again and they followed the trail of the redhead who had left the room. The lad followed the corridor and then went down the stairs. There were even smears of blood on the wall of the stairs as if someone ( probably Potter ) had caressed the wall while going up into his room.
The scene that awaited them in the living room was worthy of the greatest carnage of Bellatrix. And it wasn’t even an exaggeration.
// The squeaking of the stairs made him turn his head to see that his twin had followed him, guiding Harry by the hand. He still had a dazed and fascinated expression, but he no longer looked absent. At least, there was that. //
Antonin pressed his lips together trying not to laugh at the completely incredulous look of several Death Eaters AND the Dark Lord. He had felt it when they were in the cemetery. There was something in the child, well, teenager. Augustus had felt it too. That’s why they were so... protective, towards 'the 'enemy '.
There was a certain fragility in the Boy-Who-Lived, instability too, and something dark. Now that they saw what the teenager had done to... his family? -, there was no longer any question to be asked ( although the why of this was probably a good question but, again, both Unspeakables had their own theory. Years of severe abuse can make you crack in many ways ).
"You know, said the first redhead slowly, as he watched the walls covered with splashes and traces of blood. I think it even surpasses the carnage at Bellatrix Lestrange.”
Potter giggled ( And, damn it, Voldemort thought. His enemy had lost his marbles ? ) and went down the last steps before moving forward in the living room, ignoring the redhead who was already using magic without a wand ( Where did these kids come from by Merlin? How was it that they knew how to do magic without a wand? ) to make the traces of blood disappear. George had already had the first wall and couch cleaned when he turned his head and noticed the bloody footprints to the floor. Footprints that weren’t there before. He swivelled again and saw him (Harry), standing by the electric chimney. He had, apparently, walked through the living room into one of the blood pools. The redhead shook his head and glanced at his twin (it must have been Fred since they had heard him call the other George)He nodded his head and was careful to avoid puddles before reaching Har – Potter and cast a spell to clean his hands and feet. Potter's eyes fluttered, then he raised his head to stare at Fred. //
Voldemort could only watch, fascinated, the two redheads cleaning the room to make it as sparkling as before the massacre. Then the eyes of the three teenagers were fixed on the three corpses on the ground. Voldemort could honestly not say whether they were human or not. They had been completely disfigured. The heads were still fine ( and they didn’t have to look human, to begin with, to look like that... not that he had room to talk ), but the bodies... the bodies had been mutilated. The kid must have been ruthless. And unlike Bellatrix, he had not had to use magic ( or very little ), if he had not been spotted by the ministry.
"Tell me, Harry, what happened before the massacre? Because, you put up with them for fourteen years, so I’m surprised you suddenly snap."
"Even if we are 100% behind your decision. I hope that 'they suffered ( ' 'What the hell?! ' wrote a death eater )."
Harry stared at the corpses with a psychotic smile on his lips and declared with an undertone of satisfaction.
"They wanted to kill Hedwig ( "Hedwig?" ). So I killed them.
( '" I’m sure Bellatrix would love it," commented Fenrir, amused. )
"Oh, so that’s why she bit us when we took too long to prepare to come and get you."
Potter smiled softly, thinking of his owl.
"So..., George went on. How do we deal with the corpses?"
"Let me do it, Fred said, with a wide grin on his lips. Are you sure they suffered, Harry?"
"Yes, I’m sure of that."
"Okay. Otherwise, we should have found a way to bring them back to life before we killed them again."
Amycus Carrow choked with his saliva. And it was wizards from the Light Side? No way! No, it was just not possible. How could they have missed something like that? Stunned (Stunned?! More like flabbergasted!), they could only watch as the second redhead – Fred, used magic in a very complicated way to make the three bodies disappear, the whole time, without once using his wand.
// Finally, he turned to Harry, noting that he seemed a little more 'present ' and decided to ask him the question that tickled his mind.
"But tell me, how is it that the Order has not descended on Privet Drive, yet? I thought Dumbledore had put some protection around the house?"
Potter snorted.
Yes, he actually snorted. Voldemort raised an eyebrow. Well, he would have raised an eyebrow if he had had one. As he did not, however, he merely opened his eyes a little more.
"Protections? There are literally no protections here. The only thing a tad magical in the neighbourhood is the alarm spell that will warn Dumbledore the very moment I will have crossed the area bound by the old bastard.”
A Death Eater - probably Rowle, choked on his spit after hearing the... err... affectionate nickname Potter awarded Dumbledore. Others, however, were more focused on the information provided by the boy Potter. How come there was no protection? But then, what about all those interviews in which Dumbledore said that he left the Potter boy with his loving family, protected by magical barriers so that the Boy-Who-Lived would not be harmed? Oh... of course... it was Dumbledore... that explains that.
"Okay, so how do we handle the Dursleys? I mean, the moment you leave the zone delimited by Dumby, the Order will turn up. And they’ll notice the absence of the Dursleys. Speaking of which, the neighbours -"
"Don't worry, Harry interrupted. There was a sign 'Sold ' in front of the house for weeks. People will just think that the Dursleys sold out and left overnight. It wouldn't be the first time it happened. As for me, I haven’t been seen by the neighbours since the end of my third year.”
“Oh, that’s... you planned it all right.”
Harry smiles angelically if a little mischievous.
“I knew it would come in handy,” he explained once he came back to himself.
The three lads finished cleaning the room – all without ever using a wand, and then George asked the angry question.
"Well, I don’t want to spoil the mood but how we’re going to explain the disappearance of the Dursleys to the Order. Dumbles will know that Harry will be gone the minute he crosses the fence."
Harry smiled slowly as he struggled with his shirt still bloody, so as not to give the appearance of a horror movie.
"Simple, really. We’ll say the same thing as the neighbours think. That they moved suddenly. And if Dumbledore feels that it’s not the truth and he suspects their death, well..."
"Let’s leave it to Voldy, said Fred. They already have a bad image. One more murder won’t change much," he said, as he was handing Harry a sweater.
The Death Eaters stared at the screen with apparent bewilderment and incredulity as Voldemort massaged his temples. Oh, Salazar... he felt those brats were gonna give him a headache before the end of the day.
"Yes, but Death Eaters don’t usually bother to clean up their mess."
Harry sniffed.
"Well, let Dumbledore ask about it."
"… Okay. That’s better. The first place he’s going to check once he realizes your absence is the Leaky Cauldron. Then the Burrow."
"I doubt he’s thinking about visiting our ( Fred & George's ) apartment, but just in case, we left the reins of the shop to Lee and Jill."
"We could go to Japan," suggested Harry with a dreamy expression.
The twins blinked.
They were not the only ones.
"What about Japan?"
"Yes, Japan. There are a lot of things I want to see there. And you know, there are a lot of festivals. There is the Kanto Matsuri this week, in Akita or there is the Nebuta Matsuri in Aomori and the Neputa Matsuri in Hirosaki. Ooh ~ and you can visit the traditional temples! And -"
"Okay, okay, Japan. I think we got it. Okay."
Harry giggle at the bewildered look the twins kept throwing him.
"We should hurry to Gringotts, then."
Augustus drained the magic that kept the artefact active, then resumed its place in the Mangemoresque rank, next to his colleague and friend, Antonin.
There was silence.
And since Voldemort did not seem to decide to speak at once, the dead eaters took advantage of the 'recess ' to whisper among themselves:
"You know, I’m not sure that chasing them to kill them is such a good idea."
"Coward... but... I agree with you. That would not be wise."
"And when did you became wise, tell me?"
"I'm not, but wait, didn’t you see what the kid did to his guardians? It’s probably worse than what Bellatrix can do on her bad days. I don’t want to antagonize him. Between us, a psycho! Harry Potter is scarier than the master when he’s in a bad mood."
"… Yes, I have to admit you’re right.”
Voldemort breathed a sigh and again massaged his temples by hearing the conversations of his minions. Oh, he knew it... he felt it coming. Why the hell did he think it would be a good idea?
He glanced at Rookwood and Dolohov and saw them grinning with an incredibly satisfied look.
Sneaky little bastards... and he couldn’t even punish them.