"That was bloody brilliant!" said George in awe.
"Scary, but brilliant," agreed Fred.
"And that, ladies and gentlemen is why you don't mess with Harry Potter," said Dylan, grinning widely.
Harry rolled his eyes.
"I must say I didn't expect you to reason with my mother," said Sirius, snickering. "You spoke her language and shut her up. I've said this before but she would have killed to have you as a son. Life certainly would have been interesting in this house had you been here all those years ago. Father, Regulus and I would have definitely enjoyed it."
"She's not the only one," muttered Harry, remembering Voldemort's offer just a month ago.
Not everyone was impressed, though. Mrs Weasley looked horrified. "Y-You know the Dark Arts?" she whispered, her face slightly pale.
Harry didn't bother dignifying her question with a response. "Where's Dumbledore?" he asked.
"He's already left," said Sirius, sounding annoyed. "I told him that you wanted to speak to him but he said that he will be back in an hour or so; something important to take care of, apparently. He's suffered an injury of some kind, so he's probably gone to Madam Pomfrey."
Harry's eye twitched in annoyance but he silently followed his father to the kitchen. There was a long table with people milling around it. Harry sat down on a chair opposite to Sirius, with Dylan sitting next to him. Dylan had taken to emulating his brother by observing his behaviour, so unconsciously, quite a few of Harry's mannerisms were inculcated into his everyday life; the facial expressions, the way he carried himself - all of which were seen in Dylan as he sat down.
"Harry, Dylan," said Remus cordially as he shook hands with the two. "How have you both been?"
"Just fine, Remus, thanks," said Harry, his face impassive again.
"Lord Potter, it's nice to see you again," Mr Weasley greeted him with a warm smile.
"It is a pleasure, Mr Weasley."
"Let me introduce you to everyone," said Sirius quickly. "Harry, Dylan, this is Arthur Weasley and his oldest son Bill, both of whom you have already met at the Quidditch World Cup, his other son Percy who works in the Department of International Magical Cooperation, your cousin Nymphadora Tonks -"
" Don't call me Nymphadora, Sirius," she growled, her hair turning red. "It's Tonks."
"Hi Tonks!" said Dylan brightly.
"Hey Dylan!" replied Tonks excitedly. Her smile became predatory as she asked innocently, "Now what is this I hear about you and this girl called Astoria Greengrass?"
Dylan just gaped at her in shock but once he recovered, he rounded on his brother. "You told her?" he said, looking at him accusingly.
Harry looked at Tonks in slight disbelief. "What part of keep it a secret didn't you understand?"
"Oh, come on, Harry!" Tonks huffed. "Like I wasn't going to tease him after you told me about it."
"Moving on," said Sirius loudly, his eyes twinkling in amusement.
"As you already know, Tonks is an Auror and so are Kingsley Shacklebolt and Hestia Jones," continued Sirius. "Then we have Elphias Doge and Alastor Moody, Sturgis Podmore, Dedalus Diggle, Emmeline Vance, Mundungus Fletcher and Molly Weasley."
"Everyone, this is Harry Potter and Dylan Lestrange."
Everyone in the room suddenly felt uncomfortable when Dylan was introduced and Molly Weasley actually shuddered. Dylan acted as though he hadn't seen it and politely greeted everyone.
"If we want dinner before midnight, I'll need help," snapped Molly amidst the silence. Tonks enthusiastically got up, increasing the noise level. Harry's fingers twitched when he saw many people giving Dylan looks of suspicion and fear. He actually saw Moody palm his wand.
"That's it," muttered Harry. "Come on, Dylan, we're going home!"
"Wait, Harry, where are you going?" asked Remus, many of them stopped talking to stare at the tall teen.
"I came here to speak to Dumbledore. I did not come here to socialise nor did I come here to meet the members of the Order of the Phoenix. There is only so much I can handle before I blow up and I do not appreciate the suspicious looks being directed at my brother, so can you blame me for wanting to leave before I attack someone?"
"It's not our fault," Diggle cried indignantly. "He's - he's Rabastan Lestrange's son! How do you know that he can be trusted?"
"For all we know Lestrange might have convinced the boy to spy on us," wheezed Doge.
"Constant Vigilance!" barked Moody, his gaze - magical or otherwise - focussed on the young Lestrange heir. To his credit, Dylan didn't react at all. His grey eyes were fixed on the ceiling, acting as though he wasn't listening to anyone.
The temperature suddenly dropped and the windows developed cracks. Harry's magic was leaking out of his body as he crumpled his hand in a fist. Oh, how he badly wanted to curse those ignorant fools!
"Harry, calm down," said Sirius quietly. "You can't change their minds, I've already tried. Just don't bother with them."
"How do I know that he can be trusted?" Harry hissed, his voice very quiet, eyes turning a shade of blackish green. "I know because he is my brother and I love him with all my heart. I trust him with my life, something which I can't say for the rest of you fools. The fact that you judge someone by their name, a boy who has never once met his father proves beyond a doubt just how bigoted you people are. You believe the worst of him because he is a Lestrange; you believed that my dad was a traitor because he was a Black and you threw him in Azkaban without so much as a trail, shamelessly breaking International law in the process; you hailed a baby as a saviour but you couldn't be bothered to check on that said baby for years, the result of which was me being nearly killed by those filthy Muggles I call my relatives; you believe people can't be trusted just because an enchanted hat puts eleven-year-old children in a particular House. In the end, you are all just as bigoted as the dark! You sicken me!"
There were cries of outrage at that statement but Harry ignored them. Sirius closed his eyes in exasperation but he knew that Harry was right; he himself had been like that before being thrown in Azkaban for a decade, after all. Dumbledore had knowingly thrown him in Azkaban and endangered Harry by placing the boy with the Dursleys.
Barty Crouch too had authorised Unforgivables against suspects during the last war and had sentenced numerous people without a shred of evidence to support his claim, and the same man had broken the law when it suited him, smuggling his Death Eater son out of prison and hiding him in his own home for more than a decade. It was times like this when he couldn't help but think about what Harry had once said - who said there was a difference between the light and dark?
Grabbing Dylan's arm, Harry walked out of the kitchen with people following him. Just as he neared the door, he saw something. A shrivelled old house elf, whose skin looked several times too big for it, bald with white hair growing out of its bat-like ears, was standing in the corner.
"Blood-traitors and half-blood brats are scurrying around the house," muttered the elf. "Oh, what would poor mistress say? Kreacher must do something, yes, Kreacher can't let them stay, shame on the House of Black…"
For the first time in nearly two years, Harry was assaulted by a memory as it rammed into his's conscious mind, making him double over in pain.
"Harry!" shouted Dylan with worry as he tried to support his brother from falling down.
He was standing in the middle of a small island, smirking in triumph. This would be his greatest Horcrux yet - the locket of Salazar Slytherin himself. The cave was of special significance because this was where he had used a weaker, more primitive version of the Cruciatus Curse for the first time. Of course, he had never known about it back then, when he had used it on Dennis Bishop and Amy Benson. He just knew it had hurt them because he wanted it to hurt. The two of them should never have tormented him as they had.
He scooped up more of the potion to test it as he fed it to the house-elf he had borrowed from Regulus Black.
"No, no more!" screamed the elf and he laughed at the pathetic creature's plea for help.
"Master Regulus! Mistress Walburga! Kreacher can't drink! No more, please, Kreacher doesn't want to drink more!" screamed the elf.
Dropping the locket Horcrux in the basin, he let the house-elf shriek in agony and fear as he saw the Inferi grab the elf's frail hands. He walked out of the cave, knowing that the elf would have been taken inside the lake by now. Another Horcrux was secure.
Harry gasped for breath, clutching his head as the pain intensified. He had not had one of Voldemort's memories barge into his conscious mind like this ever since he had worn Rowena's diadem. It had been just like the first time he had experienced it, but this time it was excruciatingly painful; it was like having a Cruciatus Curse being cast on his brain.
"Harry, are you okay?" asked Sirius worriedly.
"I-I'm fine," said Harry, panting hard but he collapsed against his father as he threw up on the carpet, eyes rolling in their sockets.
"I think some bed rest would make him feel better, Sirius, don't you agree?" Dumbledore suggested quietly as he watched Harry clutch his head in pain, having just Flooed into the house. His worst fears were confirmed. The connection he had always suspected to have existed between the boy and Voldemort must have strengthened due to the latter using Harry's blood for his resurrection. This was dangerous. He would have to keep a very close eye on Harry in the future.
"Dylan, take him to the second floor," said Sirius quietly. "Regulus' bedroom should be free for you to use. I'll bring Lady Greengrass here to check on him."
"Dylan, take him to the second floor," said Sirius quietly. "Regulus' bedroom should be free for you to use. I'll bring Lady Greengrass here to check on him."
"Yes, Uncle Sirius," Dylan whispered as he wrapped an arm around Harry's waist, helping him walk. Harry had still not recovered from the torture he had suffered, no matter what he wanted others to believe. The Cruciatus Curse had long term effects on the mind and body and something must have happened which caused Harry too much pain in a blink of an eye.
Entering the room which had Regulus' name, Dylan shut the door. With a flick of his wand, he vanished Harry's clothes and tucked his brother in bed. After ensuring that he was comfortable and fast asleep, Dylan summoned his communication mirror and contacted Daphne. A few minutes of conversation later, he undressed for the night and quietly slipped into the covers beside his brother and closed his eyes.
He couldn't return home without Harry and since his brother was in no condition to Apparate or use a Portkey, they would have to stay here for now.
Damn, how bad must Harry have been tortured for the effects to not have disappeared even after a month?
....
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