Chapter Text
Harry’s third year was spent at the Malfoy mansion. He found that Lucius was much more… courteous to him now that he was the Dark Lord’s guest, and all that that entailed… Harry ate dinner in the evening with everyone at the Malfoy manor, sitting to the left of the Dark Lord himself, the rest of the time he was in the library researching. Researching what? Everything. Rituals, dark magic, runes, healing, traditions, wards, potions, and arithmancy. He was very busy, but sometimes, others checked up on him, or even read with him. Barty was one such person, so was Narcissa. Narcissa and Harry bonded over Healing, surprisingly. The woman was a registered healer and happily taught Harry as much as she could, saying that Harry was a wonderful student. She also taught him wizarding traditions. Barty was very well with Runes, and arithmancy, so He taught Harry that, the rest was self taught besides what Voldemort taught occasionally. He was an amazing teacher, and went over everything, but didn’t have much time for Harry.
It was the second week at the Manor that The Dark Lord hath needed Severous’ services. Harry was in the library at the time, and Snape walked in, Harry didn’t know that Snape was in the manor and while he shouldn’t be shocked, he was.
“Potter, What are you doing here?” The man sounded tired and irritable, and Harry had the brief thought to be snarky, but it quickly died as Snape spoke. “You… You’re in danger here, You know this, don’t you?”
Harry paused, tilting his head slightly at the man who made his first life a living hell, and sighed. This man saved him so many times, and he’s obviously making the man’s job harder on him. “Professor, You know as well as I that I’m much safer here with the Dark lord than against him. Death by sacrifice… I don’t wish for it.” The man now had an incomprehensible look on his face, obviously thinking over what the boy said before his face hardened.
“He killed your parents” And that’s what he’s ultimately stuck on. The death of Lily. The crackling of the fire in the fireplace punctuated the quiet. The golden-orange light highlighting Severous’ face, making Harry’s heart hurt by the hesitant and hopeful look in his eyes. This was his last attempt to make Harry see reason, the boy realized.
“You know… I never knew them… As much as everyone talks about how much I look like them, I barely know anything about them, and you’re right. That’s his fault.” Harry took a breath. “He cruelly ripped away the life of my father, no matter how much of an idiot he was, and while giving my mother the chance to stand aside, he ultimately killed her as well… And there’s nothing I can do about that.” Harry looked toward the fire, Trying to gather his thoughts. “ I could search for revenge… but what good would that do? There would be a war and in the end, many more people would die. Not that there wouldn’t be a war anyway, but I would never be on the side of light in this war. I just don’t believe in it. The dark lord is right about many things and sure, some of his methods are horrid and perhaps even evil, but his goals are right. It was a war, Severous. People had to die… While I wish it wasn’t my parents… nothing is to be done about it.”
The man looked down at Harry, trying to gauge the boy's thoughts. Harry gave the man a tired smile. “If… If that’s what you think, I won’t try to pressure you again…”Severous straightened. “You know, while you look like your father with your mothers eyes, your heart is purely Lily's” And oh How that made Harry’s heart stutter in his chest.
Harry asked the elves for the daily prophet every morning, and what the boy found was rather humorous. It appeared that people thought Harry ran away, spreading horrid rumors around. Harry laughed when Voldemort brought it up, causing the man to pause. “Hilarious how quickly the public could turn on someone” Harry had said. The man looked at him slightly strangely.
When Yule came by, Draco was ecstatic to see Harry. Lucius had told him that the boy was at the manor through owl mail, and he wasn’t too worried, as much as he had to act it at hogwarts. It was fun. If tiring, to have Draco at the manor. The boy tried to talk and play with him almost all day, and Harry just wanted to sleep and work on his magic…
Harry also hadn’t stopped writing to Tom in the diary, saying that he met the boy’s older self and was currently sheltered by him. The boy wanted to talk to Voldemort, but Harry was worried. Worried about if the man will take Tom away. Tom had become harry’s friend in the time he’d known the boy, but he eventually had to give in. Why does his happiness always wane?
I walked down the hall, heading straight for Voldemort's office, Journal in hand. I felt slightly worried, but after a moment of breath, raised my hand to knock only for it to swing open. Voldemort was looking down at me with curious eyes before they landed on the journal, they widened slightly before he scowled. “How have you acquired this?”
I bit my lip, the man’s expression softened as he looked down at me, but continued to wait for a response, to which I winced. “Lucius gave it to me” I dared not breathe another word when Voldemort’s expression turned icy.
“Lucius, you say?” I nodded my head, before Voldemort held out his hand. My eyes fell as I slowly placed it in his grasp. The man’s eyes followed my movements for a moment more before he sighed and invited me inside.
I blinked in surprise, as I’ve never seen the inside of the office, but dutifully followed him inside. “What do you know about this journal?” I blinked at the man’s gentle question and spoke quietly.
“Only that it’s part of who you are, but younger… Memories, perhaps. He spoke to me, At first only wanting to know about me, pleasing me so he could use me, But we eventually settled into a friendship, one that I made sure he could not use me in.”
Voldemort paused, looking down at me with those red, inquisitive eyes, before smiling. “You are a slytherin, aren’t you…” it was not a question, and he didn’t answer my unspoken question either, to which I pouted. The man wrote in the notebook for a while, while I picked a book from Voldemort's shelves, with permission, and settled down to read.
Once he was done, he stared at me for a long while, as though pondering something.
He let me keep the journal.