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The Dark Lord's Apprentice | ||||||
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Category: Alternate Universe Characters:All Genres: Action/Adventure Warnings: Death, Disturbing Imagery, Intimate Sexual Situations Story is Complete Rating: R Reviews: 127 Summary: “The one with the power to equal The Dark Lord approaches, born to those who have thrice defied him. He shall rise as the seventh month dies, and the Dark Lord shall mark him as his equal and he shall raise him as his own. For together they have the power to overcome all who face them…” Hitcount: Story Total: 54719; Chapter Total: 3429 Awards: View Trophy Room Author's Notes: Hi all.This is the next instalment. Leave a review and let me know what you think. Hope you enjoy :) |
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The Path to War “Again! Again!” little Ginny Weasely cried, jumping up and down next to her father who was sitting at the kitchen table of the Burrow on a warm summer’s afternoon. “Not now, pumpkin,” Arthur Weasley replied, looking away from the paper in his hands and down at his daughter, chuckling at the antics of his little princess. Ginny pouted. “Pwease?” she begged. “I’m trying to read the paper, Ginnykins,” Arthur reasoned. “Fine,” Ginny harrumphed. “I’ll read with you then.” Arthur shook his head, smiling despite himself. Ginny had recently learned to read, and she was determined to show off her literacy skills at every opportunity. “Okay, Ginny,” he said, picking her up and placing her on his lap. “What does this say?” he asked, pointing to a headline on one of the sports pages of his paper. Ginny stared at the headline, squinting her eyes in focus in a way Arthur thought was adorable. “T-the,” she began, “the H-H-“ “Harpies,” Arthur interjected helpfully. “The Harpies,” Ginny continued, “w-win again!” she said, finishing her sentence in a tone of triumph. “Well done, Ginny!” Arthur exclaimed, as Ginny beamed happily. “I want to read some more!” Ginny said excitedly, flicking a few pages of her father’s paper until something on the front page caught her eye. It was a picture, hand-drawn, of a boy that looked a little older than her, but not by much. He had striking green eyes, and a shock of black hair. Looking up at the headline above the picture, she started to read: “W-what would Hawwy P-Potter look like now?”, she read aloud. Arthur, who had been looking out of the kitchen window from his seat at the table as three of his sons engaged in a particularly rowdy wrestling match, looked sharply down at the paper again. “Who is Hawwy Potter, daddy?” Ginny asked innocently. “Oh nobody to worry about, darling.” “But daddy!” Ginny persisted, “who is he?” “He’s just a little boy, that’s all,” Arthur said dismissively, closing the paper over. “But why is he in the paper?” she asked. “No reason.” “Tell me the truth daddy!” Ginny exclaimed. Arthur, seeing a tantrum coming, sighed. “He’s a boy that went missing a few years ago, before you were born,” Arthur said, not wanting to say anything to upset his 5 year old daughter, but also knowing she would persist unless she was told something resembling the truth. “Missing where?” Ginny asked. “Nobody knows.” “Have people looked for him?” “They did,” Arthur said. “Lots of people searched, but nobody could find him.” “I want to help search,” Ginny said. “You can’t, Ginny.” “But why not. I want to be Hawwy’s friend.” “How about you run along and play with your brothers in the garden,” Arthur said, desperately trying to change the subject. “It’s a beautiful day.” “But I want to play with Hawwy,” Ginny said pouting. “My brothers smell bad.” Just when Arthur was about speak again, Ron came rushing in the front door. “C’mon Ginny,” he said, grabbing his younger sister’s hand. “We’re throwing apples at the gnomes!” With one last sad glance at the closed paper in her father’s hands, she rushed outside to join her siblings. Arthur sighed in relief before opening the paper again and glancing down at the sketched portrait. Harry Potter hadn’t been seen since he had been snatched from his cot by the hands of You Know Who, all those years ago, so the artist had obviously used the likeness of his parents when drawing the photo. The imagined version of Harry looked very much like his father, James, but he had Lily’s striking green eyes. Arthur shook his head sadly. ‘That poor boy,’ he thought to himself. Albus Dumbledore and the Ministry for Magic had ordered a large search party involving hundreds of people, all joined together to search for the young Potter. The search lasted weeks, but You Know Who had left no traces, and had gone into hiding with the boy. The prophecy had been set in motion. Obviously Sirius and Remus had been devastated, and both of whom went through various phases of depression and alcohol abuse in an attempt to cope with their feelings. The worst part was knowing he was still alive, in the clutches of the most evil wizard that had ever lived, being turned into some kind of weapon. ‘What must his parents be thinking up there, looking down on us?’ Arthur constantly wondered whether they all should have done more, but he didn’t know what else they could have done. Arthur just hoped that was the last time Ginny would ask about Harry Potter. It wasn’t. G inny Weasley sat at the kitchen table of Grimmauld Place in frustration. She, as well as her family, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Hermione Granger and a host of other members of the Order of the Phoenix had been cooped up in House of Black’s dark and dingy property for the last week. And what a long week it had been; from cooking and cleaning to consoling her mother on the loss of her family and worrying about the safety of her friends. She was emotionally drained at the end of every day. But most of the time she was frustrated. Every day as she cooked, cleaned and consoled, people were dying at the hands of dark wizards, be they bandits, sympathisers or Death Eaters. Dementor attacks were becoming a regular occurrence too, with most families only leaving their houses to shop for food before immediately returning home. People were living in fear, people were dying… and she was cleaning pots. Ginny growled and clenched her fists. She should be out there, helping, fighting. At 19 years old, she was more than capable, and as a member of the Order of the Phoenix, surely she had an obligation to help? But no, they were to remain in this forsaken place on Dumbledore’s orders. Dumbledore. Sometimes Ginny wondered whether he knew there was a war coming. She shook her head. She was being silly. Of course he knew. She was just frustrated with him. He was their leader and hero, their leading light and master tactician. She trusted him with her life, they all did. But lately…lately he was beginning to look his age. When she was younger, she had thought Dumbledore was invincible, but recently he looked old, fragile even. He was moving slower than before, and he seemed to be carrying an injury to his arm, although he was trying to hide it. If Ginny was honest with herself, she was scared. Voldemort was getting stronger by the day, with more and more people joining his cause. Meanwhile, the Order of the Phoenix, the main force resisting Voldemort’s reign of terror, was hidden away in Grimmauld Place. She had been hounding her father and brothers, and anyone that would listen that they should be out there, fighting and protecting people, but she always got the same answer: “We have to follow Dumbledore’s orders. He’s got a plan, I’m sure of it.” Ginny wasn’t so sure. Dumbledore didn’t seem to have any plan whatsoever. That was what worried Ginny the most. Suddenly the kitchen door burst open, and her brother Ron burst in…looking excited. “Dumbledore’s here,” he said, taking a seat next to Ginny as her father, mother, remaining brothers as well as Sirius and Remus, “and he says he’s got a plan,” Ron finished. Ginny noticed a hint of relief in her brother’s voice as he said this, and she shared that relief, anxious for any plan or news that may help them in their cause. Soon after, Dumbledore entered the kitchen, followed by Severus Snape. Ginny’s guard was instantly up. She didn’t trust that man anywhere near as much as Dumbledore did. “Take a seat, Albus” Sirius said, offering the headmaster the seat at the head of the table, which he took graciously. No such kindness was offered to Snape, who stood behind Dumbledore with his arms crossed, glowering at them all. “As you have all gathered here, I take it you all know I have news,” Dumbledore said. Everyone nodded. “Very well. Severus has imparted me with the knowledge that Voldemort,” Dumbledore paused slightly as a few people in the room shuddered at the name, “has decided to bide his time before launching his next major attack against us. He wants to see what we do next, where we regroup, before striking again, for what he thinks will be the final blow.” Ginny felt Ron gulp beside her at Dumbledore’s words. “I, however, believe that this falls into our hands,” Dumbledore said before pausing again, this time to think. There was absolute silence in the room as they each waited for what Dumbledore was going to say with bated breath. “Voldemort still trusts Severus implicitly. We have been using this trust to learn of Voldemort’s plans and adequately prepare ourselves for them. However this time I believe it should be the other way around.” “What are you suggesting?” Sirius asked. “The Dark Lord is still unaware of the existence of Grimmauld Place,” Snape interjected, “although he suspects that the Order have a main headquarters or hideout. “What Professor Dumbledore is suggesting, is we feed the Dark Lord false information on the location of our headquarters.” “Precisely,” Dumbledore said. “If we were to give Voldemort, through Severus, a false location and claim it was the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, we would know that was where Voldemort will direct his next attack.” “Are you suggesting we lay some sort of trap?” Hermione asked. “Precisely,” Dumbledore said again. “We already know Voldemort is no longer contented with hiding in the shadows. With each attack he is making a statement to the wizarding world, displaying his power by sending his most loyal and powerful lieutenants to destroy the homes and hideouts of his enemies. Therefore we can almost guarantee that Voldemort would attack this false headquarters with his strongest soldiers…” “…and if we were to lay a trap, or a number of traps at this location, we could wipe out his most important officers,” George finished excitedly. He and Fred were specialists at laying traps. Dumbledore nodded. “What exact location were you thinking of?” Remus asked. “It would have to be somewhere credible,” Dumbledore started slowly, his eyes flicking somewhat anxiously towards Molly Weasely before looking back at Lupin. “A location that Voldemort could believe would be a likely place for us to choose as our headquarters.” “Albus is suggesting the Burrow,” Snape said bluntly, cutting through the excited babble that had been going around the room at finally having a plan of action. Silence fell. “Excuse me?” Molly said, looking from Snape to Dumbledore and back again. “The Burrow…” Dumbledore started, but Molly interrupted. “Absolutely not!” she said horrified. “That’s our home! How could you suggest such a thing, after everything that has just happened to us?” “I’m sorry, Molly,” Dumbledore said sincerely. “I do not make this suggestion lightly. I just believe it is the most viable option.” “It is NOT an option” she replied crossly, tearing up slightly. “It would be destroyed!” “Why not tell Voldemort about Grimmauld Place?” Sirius suggested. “I couldn’t care less if this place burned to the ground. I’d actually be somewhat thankful,” he finished, somewhat gleefully which earned a chuckle from the group and an appreciative smile from Molly. “Because we are all under the Fidelius Charm,” Snape explained impatiently. “And since Albus is the Secret-Keeper, he would have to be the one to divulge the information directly to the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord will only trust information as to the location of the headquarters of the Order if it were to come from me, as he is of the belief that I am trusted by you all.” “Well he’s mistaken there,” Sirius said under his breath, which earned a chuckle from Ron and the twins and a glare from Snape. “Why not just make Snape, er sorry, Severus the secret-keeper, and he can tell Voldemort directly?” Hermione asked. “That is an option,” Dumbledore conceded. “But then we would be inviting a large-scale wizarding attack straight into the heart of Muggle London. It would cause chaos and an uproar that the Ministry, in its already feeble state, wouldn’t be able to handle.” “There’s got to be somewhere else, surely?” Molly said desperately, looking around at each of the others for suggestions. When none were forthcoming, she burst into tears. Ginny looked sympathetically at her mother. She had built that home herself with the help of her father, through hard work, dedication and love. For it to be used as bait for evil, in the knowledge it would be utterly destroyed, that was a big thing to ask of her mother. But Ginny knew it had to be done. “It’s okay, dear,” Arthur said, engulfing her wife in a tight hug. “We can always rebuild.” “Yeah Mum,” Fred said chirpily. “You were always complaining about how small the kitchen is anyway.” “Exactly,” George continued. “Think of it less as the Burrow being destroyed by Mouldy-Voldy and his forces of evil, and more of a renovation opportunity.” Molly gave a watery chuckle, before looking back at Dumbledore. “Okay,” she said. “You can use the Burrow as bait, as long as you allow us time to take as many of our items from the house as possible.” “Of course,” Dumbledore replied. “And thank you, Molly, for your extraordinary selflessness once again.” Molly gave a sad smile. “There’s no point of protecting a nice home if it means you have no one left to live in it with you.” “So what type of traps were you thinking, Albus?” Remus asked. Dumbledore smiled. “As is often my way, I tend to get slightly ahead of myself, and thus have already drawn up a plan,” he said, unfurling a large piece of parchment that turned out to be a blueprint of the Burrow and the surrounding land. He placed it on the kitchen table, and everyone gathered around. “I believe a mixture of booby traps and guerrilla warfare would be the most effective option,” Dumbledore continued. He turned to Fred and George. “I take it you two would be able to source some explosives, if such items were required?” The twins glanced at each other before grinning evilly. “Let’s just say we know a guy,” they said in unison. “Excellent,” Dumbledore replied. “I’ll leave the booby traps to you two. My only request is that you allow enough space for Voldemort’s attacking forces to get close to the actual property. We want to draw them deep into the grounds before striking, making it harder for them to escape successfully once they realise they’ve walked into a trap. Also draw up a precise blueprint of where you will be placing the traps. I want to have our own troops on the ground, and don’t want any of them inadvertently getting caught in one of our traps.” “Yes sir,” George replied, giving Dumbledore a military salute. “Sirius and Remus,” Dumbledore continued, “I would like you two to lead our teams on the ground. We will discuss precise battle tactics later tonight, but our plans are very much hit and run. We cannot afford to take any casualties. When the time comes I will need you to take as many of Voldemort’s followers down as possible, but getting out of there unscathed is very much the priority.” The two men nodded, looks of determination on each of their faces. “Does anyone have any questions? Ginny frowned slightly before raising her hand. “When will we be telling Voldemort that the Burrow is our headquarters?” “Severus has a planned meeting with Voldemort tomorrow night,” Dumbledore answered. Ginny’s stomach lurched slightly at the answer. Everything was happening so quickly. She had just been told that she was going to lose the Burrow, the place she had called home for the last 19 years of her life, in two days’ time. Hermione was next to speak. “Won’t this plan reveal Severus, as our spy?” Dumbledore nodded. “Voldemort will almost certainly figure out that Severus has actually been working as a double-agent. However I believe it is time we all made our allegiances abundantly clear. The time for espionage and trickery is over, as I fear an all-out war is coming our way.” Everyone in the room nodded, preparing themselves for what was about to come. “Unless there are any further questions, I request that the room be emptied except for Sirius and Remus as we draw up the battle plans. You will all be informed of our strategies once we are finished.” Everyone filed out of the room except for Sirius and Remus. “This is a daring plan, Albus,” Remus warned. “We will be lucky to pull it off without casualties.” Dumbledore nodded gravely. “I know, although it is a risk we will have to take. Also, I must warn you, there is a very high likelihood that Harry will be present.” Both Remus’ and Sirius’ faces darkened considerably. “Severus tells me that he looks strikingly like James,” Remus and Sirius both paled, “but I would just like to remind you, that he has been trained personally by the hands of Voldemort for years and is extremely dangerous. I very much doubt if he has even been made aware of who his parents were, and will be very unlikely to have been told about you two.” The two men nodded darkly. “Just be careful,” Dumbledore said softly. “I can’t imagine what it will be like for both of you to finally come across him, but I will be ready and waiting if you need me.” Harry awoke in a sweat, panting heavily as he glanced around his empty bedroom. Seeing that there was no immediate threat, he clamped his eyes shut and attempted to bring his rapid breathing under control. After a few seconds he opened his eyes again, breathing easily. He had had the nightmare again. The same nightmare he had been having sporadically for as long as he could remember. There was always a woman screaming, a woman that he felt he knew, or that he should have known. And she was always screaming. And every time Harry felt an incredible urge, a compulsion to help her, such compassion he had never felt in real life. But he could never help her, he was always trapped in place, forced to watch on as she was enveloped in green light. That’s when he would wake up. Harry had mastered the art of controlling his thoughts, memories and emotions, burying them deep inside himself, where they would only come forth when called upon. This afforded him the ability to have incredible self-control and focus, which in turn helped him channel is significant magical power. But this was one memory, dream, or whatever it was, that he couldn’t control. No matter how hard he tried to eradicate it from his brain, or bury it deep within himself, it would come back with a vengeance, stronger and more vivid than before. Sighing to himself, he walked into the master bathroom, disrobed and showered quickly before descending to the kitchen. He was about to prepare some food for himself, when he felt a burning sensation on his forearm. He was being summoned. Minutes later he was by his Master’s side. “Ah, Harry,” the Dark Lord said as he entered the room. “I have called you here to discuss our next move. Severus here,” he said, gesturing to the Potions Master who stood to his right, “has gained some very useful information that we can use to our advantage.” Harry took a seat as Severus started to explain. “I have gained the trust of the inner circle of the Order of the Phoenix to such an extent that they have made me the Secret Keeper of their new Headquarters.” Harry grinned. “Fools.” “They have decided to hide out,” Severus continued, “in the Weasely family home, The Burrow. As far as I understand it the entire Weasely family, who are the staple of the inner circle at this point, as well as a few other important figures are residing there full time. Dumbledore himself has attended to the wards, they want the place impenetrable.” Harry turned to see Voldemort hissing with delight. “You have exceeded all expectations with this information, Severus,” he said, “and you will be justly rewarded.” Severus bowed his head. “Thank you, my Lord.” Silence fell as Voldemort thought for a moment. “I believe it is best to strike now,” Voldemort said. “They are almost at their breaking point, it would only do us harm if we were to wait and allow them to rally.” Harry nodded in agreeance. “I agree, my Lord. We should strike now, with everything we have got.” “What are your thoughts Severus?” Voldemort asked. “I believe,” Severus replied slowly, “that now is the opportune time. As you rightly said, my Lord. They are at their weakest. One last push and they may well fall.” Voldemort nodded. “We shall strike, and soon.” He turned to Harry. “Round up the troops. Call in Bella, Yaxley and Dolohov.” Harry nodded. “Leave the Malfoys out of this, however,” Voldemort continued. “They do not deserve this opportunity for glory, nor do I want to expend my entire inner circle on this issue, the risk would be too great. You are to hold back too, Severus. Once we act on your information Dumbledore will know you are our spy, I do not want you involved as you specifically will have the biggest target on your back.” Severus nodded. “Very well,” Voldemort said, “Harry you have two days. Bring them to me and we will organise our plan of attack.” Harry bowed to his Master before leaving the room and Apparating home. He allowed himself to feel a rush of excitement before boxing his emotions, compartmentalising them and burying them deep within himself. Their moment of glory was almost upon them, and Harry wanted to be sure that his mind was clear for when the moment came. |
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