HERE WE GO AGAIN (Patreon)

Chapter 24- ‘Rest’ Aside

“Finally.” Harry sighed as he stepped out of the holiday home. He had been in this place for three months and was surprised that he had not managed to pull out his hair in boredom. He had not questioned Dorea when she had asked him to go and stay away from the rest of the family. He knew that arguing with her would have got him nowhere.

He was dropped off in Switzerland, where the family held a private mansion cut off from the public and the native magicals. Dorea had forbidden all his family, barring their house-elf, who would look out for him during his stay.

Harry had been too tired to get up from the bed, and this resting phase was something his body demanded. The toll the magical backlash had taken on his body was too much. Sleeping all day had been tiring for the young man. He had expected that his recovery would be slow. But he had not expected it to be this long.

He was still sluggish from the lack of activity but slowly returned to his usual self. He had not brought his wand. He was forbidden to get his wand, and his mother was adamant that he would not take it. He tried casting wandless, and his magic was out of control, but he felt no exertion.

He was glad to leave the room he had been in for months. Staring at the same four walls had been tiring, and he was sure he would have gone mad if he had remained there any longer.

As much as he looked forward to returning, he worried about their reaction. The family did not address him because of his condition, but he would not be exempted today. What he did was foolish. He knew that it was a chance. There was a slim possibility of their survival that night, and he took it.

They can shout and be mad at him, but he will not regret his decision. It was the right thing to do, and he did it. Not only that, he will repeat it again and again if necessary. The family would not be pleased with his choice of words, but there was no sugarcoating. His being blunt is the only way they will see things his way.

BREAK

“Anything I should know, Abraxus?” The blonde shook his head. “Nothing of prominence, my lord.” He answered. “But is there anything you like to know?”

The Dark Lord sighed as he leaned back in his seat. “I still don’t get what happened with Fenrir.” The man had lost a valuable asset with the death of the most powerful werewolf in the magical world. Not only that, but with his passing, his entire pack had backed away from the support they had promised. That had been a massive blow to his plans. The werewolf population and support would have been insignificant, but their purpose would have played right into his hands. Fear. The magicals are afraid of werewolves knowing the means to kill them, but the muggles will have no clue how to defend themselves from the beasts that are very different from the common wolves.

With Fenrir dead, the new leader of the werewolves had outright rejected his offer. The werewolf Hector had not complied to meet him nor listen to his offer. Ever since the day after Fenrir’s death, the werewolves had gone to the ground, not being heard of or seen by anybody.

The Dark Mark's presence over the death scene troubled him. He was assured that none of his men were responsible for Fenrir's death. They had not been lying. His men would not get away with lying, and he could discern their truthfulness. Safe to say, none had dared test his ability.

This was not all. There was an issue with Travers. He was not a fool to believe that they had fought among themselves. The Purebloods were childish. They were gullible but did not deal with each other directly—at least the Slytherin purebloods. Those men hated each other, yet they moved around together, schemed, planned, and tried to unify families. This was just not their way.

He had no idea who was responsible for both of those incidents. They would not have bothered him if not for the fact that his mark had been cast over both incidents. The serpentine symbol was his creation. His identity. It was not a simple mark but years of complex magical abilities acquired over hard work.

The mark had more to it than what just meets the eye. The skull was a symbol of death. The serpent was the mark of Lord Voldemort—the heir of Slytherin. He was the man who pushed the boundaries of Death to the extreme. A man who conquered Death and the symbol was an example of it.

It did not stop there. His mark was sentient. That was what made the mark special. The mark was living along with the wizard. The mark stays alive until the wizard is alive. The mark feeds off the magic of a wizard. The mark would help him keep track of his men. When he has their necessity, the mark tells them so. When they need a quick getaway, the mark helps them with it. The mark lets him know where to go when they require his presence.

This was the well-known information regarding the mark. They didn’t know the price they had to pay after being marked, not that they would ever learn of it. The mark was directly connected to him and not symbolically. He could end their lives if necessary, sitting in his seat. He could torture them with methods worse than the Cruciatus if he needed to. He would be able to see into their heads whenever he needed to. It's easier than using the mind arts.  In other words, the mark hands over their life into his hands.

The fact that the powerful purebloods with centuries of history have been branded under his mark was an ego booster.

The mark that was supposed to be cast at any scene was to send a message. To let people know that he was coming for them. To let the other faction know that mudbloods will not be tolerated.

The mark could only be cast by his men. He had imparted the knowledge of casting the mark to his select few followers, and every time it was cast, he would know about it immediately. The connection he shared with them through the mark would immediately tell him about the mark being cast. The same could not be said about the two scenarios.

How the knowledge about the Dark Mark and its casting had left his circle, he would not know, but it was worrying. How was he supposed to know or search for this imposter?

He shook his head as he settled back in his seat. For now, it meant little. His plans must go ahead as he had envisioned. The Potter boy had derailed his plans regarding the Black family, whose support would have greatly boosted his banner, but he didn’t think much of it. As Abraxus had been telling him, the family was beyond its glorious days and with a lot of infighting to add to it.

The family's heir is not on good terms with the rest of the family. The boy had broken years of continuity of the family, ending up in Gryffindor instead of Slytherin. The future of the family looked bleak at best. The boy was not the usual type. He tends to use his time to pull pranks and laze around rather than build his relationship with his peers who would one day be running the Wizarding World.

The Blacks would fall in line. He would make sure of it. It will not be long before everything would fall back in place.

BREAK-

Harry apparated in front of the manor and smiled at the sight of the family home. ‘There is no place like home.’ He thought as he walked up the pathway to the front door. He was anxious about his upcoming meeting with the rest of his family.

He had guessed that Tippy would have informed the rest of the family of his arrival by now. They would be expecting him. He felt the wards around the place. He vaguely remembered that the outer wards had shattered when there had been a magical overload from the excess magic.

Despite the magic overload, the ancient wards surrounding the manor remained intact. But his father had placed more wards over the place for added security. He entered their manor and walked towards the living room, anticipating his family's presence.

His father was immersed in a book as he stepped in. The others were not in sight, but he guessed they would be busy elsewhere. The man looked up a few moments later, a smile splitting his face.

“Harry!” He greeted the young man as he sat across from him. “When did you get back?”

“Just now, " he replied. Where are the others?” Charlus nodded towards the door. “They are around.”

“James has returned to Hogwarts?” the man nodded. You are looking well,” Charlus muttered, giving him a once-over. “I am,” Harry replied. I haven’t tried to do anything excessive, but my magic still seems wobbly. So, I am getting there.”

“Is anything the matter, Dad?” Harry frowned as he observed the man hesitating.

“Not for me. You know that I will not condone what you pulled, Harry. If I were in your place, I would do the same without hesitation.” Harry nodded his agreement. The man need not tell him that. “But I also know the rest of them would not understand your actions. Your mother, Daphne, your Grandmother, would not be accepting. They are cross. They will rant and rage. I am pretty sure your mother would have a few wonderful choices of words.”

Harry winced. He had expected the women to react heavily, but that didn’t mean he would be okay with it.

“Anyway, you should go and speak to them immediately. Endure whatever they have to say. And just don’t talk back. It will only make things worse. Listen to what they say,” Charlus paused for a few seconds. “Don’t talk back. Don’t deny.”

Harry left the man behind and went looking for the women folk in the house, fearing their reaction. He heard voices in the dining room, and sure enough, Dorea and Euphemia were discussing with each other.

The aged woman was the first to notice his presence and alerted Dorea. Harry approached the two, waiting for their response. His grandmother smiled gently as Harry sat beside her, but his mother did not share the same sentiment as Euphemia.

“Grandmother, " the woman caressed his cheek as she gave him a once-over. “How are you, son?” Harry smiled. “I am fine, Grandmother,” Harry assured her. I am still feeling wobbly, and my magic is a bit off, but I am fine.”

Harry then faced Dorea, who was still not displaying any emotions. “Mother?” Harry looked at his Grandmother pleadingly when she didn’t respond. Euphemia nodded reassuringly.

“Mother?” Harry addressed the woman once again. “This is not fair, mother,” Harry complained.

“I know you are upset, but there was no way I would have watched as he destroyed everything I hold dear. I have lost enough, mother.”

Dorea teared up slightly. “Your father is too much, sometimes.” She smiled sadly. “I am not angry at you, Harry. That would be foolish of me and unfair, too. I am angry that you had to do that to save us. I am annoyed that you had to resort to almost losing your life to save us.”

“It scares us, " she whispered. “You might find it hard to believe it, but you have become very close to us in the little time you have been here, Harry. You are my son. That will not change. Nobody can tell me otherwise. I do not wish to lose you.”

Tears streamed freely down her face. “I do not doubt your ability. I just fear for your safety. If things worsen, we will face dangers at every turn, and you will be in the middle of it and without a choice. I fear for you.”

Harry sat on the ground in front of his mother’s chair and leaned forward, resting his head on his mother’s lap. Dorea caressed the top of his head gently as she sniffed slightly.

“Things are going to get bad, mother. He will keep coming for me. Have no doubt about that. It might end up badly. But let me assure you, I will not be going anywhere. I will end this chapter once and for all. It is my duty, and I will do it. Rest assured, your son won’t be going anywhere.”

Harry stared into Dorea’s eyes. “You don’t know your son, mother. He will make ends meet to keep his word. I give you my word that it will be worth it.” He promised.

“I didn’t see Daphne around the house. Where is she?” Harry questioned after a bout of comfortable silence following his declaration. “I didn’t know she had started leaving the manor. Ever since we arrived, she hesitated to leave and go outside.”

Dorea smiled. “It might not surprise you, but Daphne has joined the Aurors, son.” Harry was not surprised. He had been aware of Daphne’s desire to join the Aurors. He knew that she would get in. Daphne was a very capable witch.

“That is great news, " he chuckled. “She had dreamt of being an auror for as long as I know, and I am happy that she achieved it.”

“It has been a month. She has been placed under desk duty for the next two months and will be assigned to the field afterwards. She will be working directly under Alastor Moody.”

“Moody?” Harry questioned, surprised about that. Alastor Moody. It has been years since he last heard that name. A man who he liked a lot. Moody was a difficult taskmaster, but nobody can deny that the man’s proteges are the best. Tonks was a menace with the wand.

He couldn’t help but smile as he imagined Daphne’s face whenever he yelled ‘Constant Vigilance.’ It would be hilarious when the perfect and prim Daphne Greengrass jump to his constant yells.

“It is a compliment if it's Alastor Moody who recruited her. From what I knew, he didn’t take up juniors frequently; when he did, they were sure to be the best. He only chooses the best.” Dorea agreed, nodding at his words.

“As rash as he can be, he is a genuine man. Charlus is very proud of him. He always tells me he is the kind of man who indicates what is right with this wizarding world. He is rash but a very good man.” He couldn’t refute it. She was right.

His thoughts diverted to another person whom he knew would be expecting his arrival. He should meet Narcissa. That being said, he should meet the Blacks and talk to them.

“I think I should visit Grimmauld once, Mother,” Harry suggested as he stood up. Dorea agreed. “You should. Little Bellatrix had been worried sick for you. It took a lot of convincing to send her back to Hogwarts after the ordeal.”

Harry frowned as he remembered something. “I don’t know how, but that night, she knew well before that something was going to happen?”

“What do you mean?” Dorea frowned questioningly. “I don’t know. She came to me before everything, and she was scared. She felt that something was not right. She feared that there would be trouble. I don’t know if it was some sort of intuition, but I let it go. But that was not the only time that happened. She approached me a couple of times more with the same complaint. That told me there was something more than a common intuition.”

“I need more than a few intuitions, Harry.” Dorea tutted impatiently as she paused her son. “I can only find out the root cause with more information.”

Harry waved her off. “It’s fine mother. I don’t know how to explain it without knowing if it is recurring. We will see what it is some other time.” Dorea agreed to his words.

“So you will go and visit Grimmauld?” Harry nodded. “Yes. It has been long.”

“Why don’t you ask Arcturus to come and visit with the family while you are there?” She said.

“We should sit around each other and talk about many things.”

Harry sobered immediately. He understood the meaning behind her words as reality came crashing down on his head. She was right. This was just the beginning. Now that Tom has his sights set on them, there will be more trouble finding them with every passing day. Every member of the family would invariably find themselves in trouble. Every member of the family would be a target. Every move, every action of theirs is bound to be noted finely. One small mishap, and there is nothing short of death that awaits every member of his family.

He had yet to reveal the presence of another danger behind their backs. He still didn’t know if he should be revealing anything to the others about another person who had made them jump in time. How can he let them know about a person he has no idea about who might threaten his family? Should he reveal this matter and have them suspect every person they come across? Should he remove their peace and have them live in fear of problems?

He walked out of the room, shaking his head resolutely. He would keep that matter to himself for now. He would not let that be a bother to his family. Despite the promise that Death had given him, he would not risk it. It would always be better if it were him rather than them.

TBC—-----