Chapter Thirty-Three: Voldemort Has a Son?
When Snape returned to the castle, Dumbledore predictably pulled him aside and spoke to him in his office. Snape had done exactly as Voldemort had instructed him, when questioned:
"So Voldemort has returned?" Dumbledore asked him.
"Yes not only did the Dark Lord prove to us that he has returned, but he also informed us of how he stayed hidden."
"And how did he do that?" Dumbledore asked, leaning forward in his chair.
"He changed his appearance permanently and went under an alias," Snape replied.
"What alias would that be?" Dumbledore prompted him.
"Anata Blake."
Dumbledore was not able to hide his shock. He leaned back and his eyebrows raised as his eyes widened. He quickly composed himself and took on a neutral expression.
"Anata Blake is Voldemort?" he practically gasped. Severus nodded. "But, Harish Blake…he has a son?"
"Evidently," Snape replied, managing very well not to show his amusement at the old man's surprise.
When he had returned to Hogwarts, the first thing he had done was go to the Hospital Wing and look down at Harish—or Harry—and wondered what to do. He had looked at the face of his childhood friend's son. It was very easy to pick her features of out the teen's face as well as to pick out James's and now—Voldemort's. It was clever, really, the way the man did it. He had given the boy an adoption potion that would make him look like his biological son. James's features were still there, but there weren't enough to recognize right away. The boy would look like a were cousin—but then everyone in the Wizarding World looked like cousins.
Finally, Severus realized that the boy did not act like he did not enjoy his home life. In fact, he had always made comments that made it seem as though he adored his father—Voldemort—fully and completely. And Snape once again remembered how distraught Voldemort was when he had realized that his adopted son was hurt. This meant that somehow Harish had wormed his way into Voldemort's heart, like he had done to all of the other professors, including himself.
After Snape had realized that Harish was actually Harry Potter, he tried to make himself hate the boy. In fact, he had originally lost his temper, but it soon became evident that his mother was more prominent in him than his original father. It also helped that he did not resemble James Potter in the slightest.
So, thinking this, Severus had decided that he would put his grudges against James away and protect Lily's son. In doing this, he would be allying himself to Voldemort, but he saw no problem with that. Especially after he had seen how Dumbledore was manipulating Neville's life, making him certain that had Harry survived as Harry Potter, the same thing would have happened to him.
While he was thinking this, Dumbledore was thinking along whole other lines. He now knew that Voldemort was Anata Blake. This meant that he also knew that Voldemort had a son. He also knew that Lily Potter was the mother. Dumbledore knew it must be so, for the boy had her eyes.
But how was that possible?
Then, Dumbledore started thinking hard. Harish was several years older than Harry, meaning that he most likely would have been born before she and James got married. Lily was a Muggleborn, which would have made her a target to Voldemort. This automatically made Dumbledore jump to the conclusion that perhaps Voldemort had captured Lily at some point and had accosted her. She would have hidden the pregnancy and then gotten rid of the child once it was born—thus giving Voldemort an heir—before trying to forget about the whole thing and marrying James Potter.
It all made sense the more Dumbledore thought about it. Finally, he decided that that must have been the case and wrenched himself out of his thoughts, asking Severus more about what had happened in the meeting.
Harish woke up the next morning, aching all over. Madam Pomfrey bustled over the minute she realized he was awake.
"How are you feeling this morning, Mr. Blake?" she asked briskly, plumping his pillows and waving her wand over him.
"Like I fell down a set of stairs," he replied dryly.
She chuckled.
"I am afraid you missed your father," she said.
"My father?" he asked, perking up. "He was here?"
"Yes," she informed him. "He sat with you all night, but had to leave yesterday morning for work."
Harish smirked at that. He knew all too well that the only work he had was terrorizing Death Eaters.
"So how long have I been out?" he questioned her.
"We found you unconscious on the night of the final task," she replied, he nodded. "And it has been two days since then."
"Two days?" he asked, bewildered. "I was injured that bad?"
"Yes, and I am afraid you will have to leave those casts on all summer, perhaps even longer."
Harish looked down at the cast on his left arm and his leg.
"Well," he said, smiling weakly. "At least it wasn't my wand arm."
He allowed Madam Pomfrey to lift his eye lids and check his eyes. Normally he would have protested, but he was too sore and exhausted. Of course, he didn't know that the exhaustion was a result of his magic working very hard to keep him alive.
The nurse walked away from his bed and Harish glanced around the Hospital Wing to see a large sack of gold sitting on his bedside table. It was only then that he remembered that he had won the Triwizard Tournament—it seemed so long ago.
"When can I leave the Hospital Wing?" he finally asked as she returned and handed him a tray of food.
"Not until school ends, I am afraid," Madam Pomfrey responded briskly.
Harish dropped his fork and his mouth fell open in indignation.
"I have to stay in here for the rest of the term?" he clarified.
"And you'll not protest either unless you don't want to see your friends," Madam Pomfrey retorted.
"My friends are here?" Harish asked.
"They are waiting outside the door—have been since you got in here. Finish your food and I might let them in."
Harish began wolfing down his food with a speed that rivaled Ron Weasley's sloppy eating. Then, he looked up, saying, "Done!"
Madam Pomfrey sighed before opening the doors to the ward. Then, she grouched to her office and left him alone.
"Oh, Harish!" Daphne cried, flinging herself on his neck. "We've been so worried."
He patted her head awkwardly and she let go of him.
"Sorry," she said, wiping tears from her eyes. "It's just, McGonagall told us how they found you and—it's just horrible!"
By then, Fred, George, Draco, and Hermione had filed into the Hospital Wing.
"How are you Harish?" Hermione asked.
"What happened?" Draco queried.
"Did you find out who's been trying to kill you?" the twins chorused.
Harish held up his hands and the others fell silent.
"I am fine," he said. "I did indeed find out who has been trying to kill me as well. It was Jugson, disguised as Professor Moody."
"Oh!" Hermione exclaimed. "How did I not see that?"
"I don't know, and frankly I have been wondering the same about myself."
"But why did he try to kill you?" Daphne asked in a small voice.
Harish scowled, remembering his discussion with the man.
"His employer told him to."
"But who—?"
"I couldn't get it out of him. When I asked him who it was, he started attacking me. I probably would have beaten him too, if he hadn't used a spell that pushed me backwards down the stairs that are in front of his office."
Suddenly, a smack interrupted their conversation. Harish looked around to see Hermione looking out the window. Her hand was clenched so tightly her knuckles were white.
"Sorry," she said sheepishly. Harish turned back to the twins, who were standing in front of his bed.
"Now that I think of it," Fred mused. "We haven't seen Moody at all."
"Not since you were attacked," George added.
"I thought Jugson worked for your father," Draco said.
"He did. He mentioned something about my father being a madman and finding a new cause."
The others looked shocked at this.
"Do you know what this means?" Harish asked finally. His friends shook their heads. "It means my father won't only have Dumbledore to deal with in the upcoming war."
Madam Pomfrey eventually shooed the others out of the infirmary. It wasn't long after that that Dumbledore got wind of Harish being awake. He had already flooed Fudge, meaning to speak with him about Voldemort's return, but it seemed as though a slight change in his plans was needed at that moment. So, he went down to the ward to ask Harish about Jugson's attack.
Once he got there, he questioned the boy.
"I know Moody took you from the Quidditch pitch, for that was what alerted me that you were in trouble," Dumbledore said, "but what happened after that?"
Harish considered Dumbledore for a moment, wondering what information he should indulge, and what he should save for his father. Finally, said, "It wasn't Professor Moody. It was a man pretending to be him. I think it was Jugson's father."
"Jugson?" Dumbledore parroted. "Bradwr Jugson?"
"That was his name," Harish said with a smile. "Anyway, he said he was taking me to the Hospital Wing, but after he gave me a potion for my leg, I realized we were in his office. Then, he started rambling on about having me at his mercy and about an employer of his, or something. When I asked about his employer, he started attacking me. I backed out of the office, holding him off with a few of my own spells, and he blasted the door apart. I think I was holding him off pretty well for a second, but then he used a spell that forced me backwards onto the stairs and I rolled down it."
"So you don't know who he was working for?" Dumbledore asked. Harish shook his head. "Do you know if he was the one that poisoned you?"
"Yes," he replied. "He said he had been given the mission to kill me."
"Kill you specifically?" Dumbledore asked, his eyebrows raised. "Do you have any idea why?"
Harish strengthened his Occlumency shields.
"No," he replied, not wanting to give away who his father was. He didn't know that Voldemort had already revealed himself.
Dumbledore studied Harish over his half-moon glasses, but their conversation was interrupted as Fudge walked into the infirmary, followed by Percy Weasley.
"Yes?" he asked. "Dumbledore, you wanted to speak with me?"
Dumbledore nodded.
"I am afraid I was a little distracted, as Mr. Blake has just woken up."
Fudge did a double take; he had not realized Harish was awake. He peered around Dumbledore to see Harish sitting up in bed.
"Hello, Minister," Harish said with a smile.
"So what did you want, Dumbledore?" Fudge asked, turning back to the old man.
"Could we perhaps go to a more private place to discuss this?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes first flickering to Harish and then lingering on Percy.
"If you want to speak to me, Dumbledore," Fudge said, noticing Dumbledore looking at the redhead. "You can speak to both me and Mr. Weasley. Now what did you want to discuss?"
Dumbledore nodded in resignation. He guessed that it wouldn't be the end of the world to discuss Voldemort's return in front of his own son, but he still lowered his voice and muttered, "I am very sad to tell you this, Cornelius, but appears as though Lord Voldemort has returned."
Fudge looked shocked for a moment and took a step backwards. Then, he smiled weakly and said for the whole room to hear, "See here, Dumbledore. You- you can't seriously believe that. You-Know-Who back? That's preposterous!"
Harish, who had been looking down at his sheets while Dumbledore was whispering to the Minister, looked up. Had his father finally come out in the open? Was he finally starting the war back up again? Harish watched the two men with interest, noticing as Dumbledore glanced his way.
"One of my own staff felt his Dark Mark burn while I was in the room with him," Dumbledore replied quietly, still trying to keep the conversation private. "He left on my orders to see what this was all about. I'm sure you remember him. Severus Snape?"
"You are taking the word of a Death Eater on this?" Fudge asked, still smiling oddly.
"Severus was proven innocent thirteen years ago," Dumbledore replied quietly, but loud enough for Harish to hear. "You know this, Cornelius. He became spy for me during the war. I would trust him with my life."
"The thought of You-Know-Who returning—preposterous!" Fudge exclaimed angrily. "I don't know what you're playing at, Dumbledore, but it seems to me you are determined to destabilize everything we have worked for these past thirteen years!"
"Voldemort has returned," Dumbledore repeated. He had abandoned all hopes of Harish not overhearing their conversation. "If you accept that fact straightaway, Fudge, and take the necessary measures, we may still be able to save the situation. The first and most essential step is to remove Azkaban from the control of the dementors—"
"Preposterous!" Fudge shouted again. "Remove the dementors? I'd be kicked out of office for suggesting it! Half of us only feel safe in our beds at night because we know the dementors are standing guard at Azkaban!"
"The rest of us sleep less soundly in our beds, Cornelius, knowing that you have put Lord Voldemort's most dangerous supporters in the care of creatures who will join him the instant he asks them!" Dumbledore said. "They will not remain loyal to you, Fudge! Voldemort can offer them much more scope for their powers and their pleasures than you can! With the dementors behind him, and his old supporters returned to him, you will be hard-pressed to stop him regaining the sort of power he had thirteen years ago!"
Fudge was opening and closing his mouth as though no words could express his outrage.
"The second step you must take—and at once," Dumbledore pressed on, "is to send envoys to the giants."
"Envoys to the giants?" Fudge shrieked, finding his tongue again. "What madness is this?"
"Extend them the hand of friendship now, before it is too late," Dumbledore continued, "or Voldemort will persuade them, as he did before, that he alone among wizards will give them their rights and their freedom!"
"You—you cannot be serious!" Fudge gasped, shaking his head and retreating further from Dumbledore. "If the magical community got wind that I had approached the giants—people hate them, Dumbledore—end of my career—"
"You are blinded," Dumbledore said, finally raising his voice, his eyes blazing once more, "by the love of the office you hold, Cornelius! You place too much importance, and you always have done, on the so-called purity of blood! You fail to recognize that it matters not what someone is born, but what they grow to be! I tell you now—take the steps I have suggested, and you will be remembered, in office or out, as one of the bravest and greatest Ministers of magic we have ever known. Fail to act—and history will remember you as the man who stepped aside and allowed Voldemort a second chance to destroy the world we have tried to rebuild!"
"Insane," Fudge whispered, still backing away. "Mad…"
And then there was silence. Madam Pomfrey was standing at the end of Harish's bed with her hands over her mouth. Harish was sitting there silently, knowing how important this moment was on the outcome of the war. If Fudge did take the steps Dumbledore had suggested, then the war would be a bit harder for Voldemort's side. If he didn't, then Harish knew that they would be able to take over in less than a day.
"If your determination to shut your eyes will carry you as far as this, Cornelius," Dumbledore said, "we have reached a parting of ways. You must act as you see fit. And I—I shall act as I see fit."
Dumbledore's voice carried no hint of a threat; it sounded like a mere statement, but Fudge bristled as though Dumbledore was advancing upon him with a wand.
"Now, see here, Dumbledore," he said, waving a threatening finger. "I've given you free reign, always. I've had a lot of respect for you. I might not have agreed with some of your decisions, but I've kept quiet. There aren't many who'd have let you hire werewolves, or keep Hagrid, or decide what to teach your students without interference from the Ministry. But if you're going to work against me—"
"The only one against whom I intend to work," Dumbledore said, "is Lord Voldemort. If you are against him, then we remain, Cornelius, on the same side."
It seemed Fudge could think of no answer to this. He rocked backward and forward on his small feet for a moment and spun his bowler hat in his hands. Finally, he said, with a hint of a plea in his voice, "He can't be back, Dumbledore, he just can't be…"
"I can assure you fully that Lord Voldemort is indeed back."
He took another step back, shaking his head. Finally he added, "I have heard enough. I have no more to add. I will be in touch with you tomorrow, Dumbledore, to discuss the running of this school. I must return to the Ministry."
He had almost reached the door when he paused at the sound of Harish's voice.
"Sir, it's not just You-Know-Who," he said. "There's someone else who has been trying to get to him for years, but we don't know who they are yet."
Fudge looked at him in shock before shaking his head once again and leaving. Percy trailed behind him. Dumbledore stood there for a moment before turning to Madam Pomfrey.
"There is work to be done," he said. "Poppy, will you get Hagrid and tell him to wait for me in my office? Invite Madame Maxime as well, if she will come."
And he strode out of the infirmary. Madam Pomfrey hesitated before following. As she walked out of the door, she barked to Harish, "Do not leave that bed."