29

29: Crucial Decisions and Dark Marks (October 3, 2003 to October 6, 2003)

"Seven Triwizards, seven champions- but none of them have ever done what Sebastian Biggerstaff have done," Voldemort declared in an even tone. "My commendations to the Hogwarts champion. Dispersing the dementors, taming a basilisk, overcoming an Unforgivable, casting one as well- truly you deserve this honor," he stated firmly, his crimson eyes resting on Sebastian's person. "You have proven yourself throughout the Tournament the way no other has before. Congratulations, Mr. Biggerstaff."

Those eyes were peering into his being, Harry felt like he was naked. Fear started seeping into his mind at the thought that if Voldemort was a legilimens, he was so screwed. If he wasn't able to shield his mind from Snape, what made him think he could hide anything from Voldemort? Only the greatest dark wizard since Grindelwald! Hopefully, Voldemort wasn't. His nerves only calmed when the logical part of his brain reminded him that Voldemort would have already approached him if he knew that he was Harry Potter and not Sebastian Biggerstaff.

After all, questions had to be answered. For Harry Potter in this world was supposed to be dead. Quite contrary, he wasn't. Even if Voldemort didn't believe it at first, the evidence was there. No connection yet because Harry Potter was supposed to be dead. Voldemort simply wasn't linking him to Harry Potter, but from all that he'd known- he was an exact carbon copy of his father, James Potter.

Harry was surprise he wasn't trembling with how hard he felt his insides were shaking. Each step that brought him closer made him mentally cringe. He was terrified that when he got too close to Voldemort, he'd start feeling the twinges of pain that he always felt when he was near the Dark Lord. But when he got close enough to touch Voldemort, he felt no pain- not at all.

It was a revelation. Was it possible that he wasn't connected to this Voldemort at all? He'd always been a bit skeptical what Dumbledore had told him. That his link was only to that Voldemort in his world. It made sense, but he still hadn't believed it. That still didn't change the fact that his wand and Voldemort's were brother wands did it? If their wand cores still had Fawkes' feathers, even if they were different universe Fawkes? Did that make a difference?

Maybe. Maybe it didn't. He wouldn't know until they actually tried to duel against each other. He shuddered to think of when that would happen. By reflex, he automatically held out his hands when Voldemort handed the Goblet of Fire to him. However, it did take a moment before his mind registered what Voldemort was saying to him, "Do you have anything that you wish to say, Sebastian Biggerstaff?"

Everyone was staring at him. The eyes of hundreds of students were on him. He didn't have anything he wanted to say. It would have been so much easier if Draco were in his shoes. There wasn't a time when Draco didn't know what to say, even when Hermione stumped him on occasion. He contemplated seriously not saying anything, but he hardly could do that- could he?

"Thanks," he mumbled, his eyes darting everywhere but at those in the crowd before finally settling on the ground. He despised being in the limelight. The awkward silence filling the air made him feel even more so that he was in the spotlight. Damn stupid ego. If he hadn't wanted to prove himself, he wouldn't be in this position. His Slytherin side wanted to prove itself; his Gryffindor side coincided with the foolish notion. Sod it all!

It was as if Voldemort was trying to make him more uncomfortable, since he started to clap. Slowly but surely, the rest of those in the Grand Hall followed suit until there was a noticeable thunder of applause. Harry had never felt more uncomfortable in his life. He'd rather be anywhere but here. Most people enjoyed being in the center of attention, but not him. He dreaded it.

Yet, here he was.

It was sweet relief to Harry when Dumbledore quickly whisked him away before Voldemort could get to him. There was no doubt that Voldemort intended to talk to him, it was in those intense blood red eyes that he wanted to speak to Sebastian when Dumbledore had interceded him. Thank Merlin for that. Harry didn't know how much more of this he could take. It was all too much.

He had too many conflicting feelings that he wasn't able to deal with, not right now. This Triwizard had overcomplicated his already complicated life. He ought to be only stressing over how to get Severus to take him seriously in a relationship, but no there was more to worry about, such as the possibility of Voldemort wanting to recruit him as a Death Eater.

That was why he couldn't have been more relieved than when Dumbledore took him aside, preventing him from having to make anymore contact with Voldemort. Relief filled his body as the anxiety slowly slipped away. But when they finally got to a private room within Durmstrang, his gut was telling him that whatever reason Dumbledore had for wanting to talk to him wasn't going to be good. And his gut was almost always right. It was wrong about Severus though. It could be wrong about this too.

"Harry, my boy," Dumbledore greeted him with that familiar grin on his elderly though friendly face, "how have you been? I trust that the Tournament hasn't been too taxing on you?" Harry slowly shook his head, it hadn't been overly tiring though it had made him weary. "That's wonderful! I knew that you would do well, it's in your blood- great things."

Alarms went off in his head. He didn't like the direction where this was going. He'd figured there was a reason why Dumbledore had let him go. Why else put him in such a prominent position for Voldemort to see him? Other than… but that couldn't be! Dumbledore wouldn't dare! Not when he knew… not when he knew! "It was in his blood too," Dumbledore remarked, not noticing the troubled expression on Harry's face, "Tom's blood, to do great things. He did, but terrible things."

He definitely didn't like the direction where this was going. "You are very much like him, I am sure that you do know that through your father that you are the Heir to Gryffindor…?" Don't make assumptions, Harry's mind shouted, but it wasn't really a surprise. He'd guessed it sometime the summer after his fifth year. It made sense, if you really thought about it, his Dumbledore had said only a true Gryffindor could have pulled Godric's sword out of the sorting hat.

And yet, if he was a true Gryffindor- why had the sorting hat wanted to sort him into Slytherin? It didn't make sense. He'd always wondered that, which was why even though he'd thought that maybe he was the Heir to Gryffindor- he'd never believed he was. "Voldemort knew this, and because you were Godric's heir, you were a threat to him. Any of the heirs would have been, but Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff lines have already died out. To extinguish you, would have made Slytherin the only Founding bloodline left.

"It was partly my fault as well," Dumbledore admitted, his usually cheerful eyes showing an uncharacteristic remorse. "If I hadn't encouraged your parents to be more active against Voldemort, then they wouldn't have been one of the first to be struck against. Although, the confrontation between the Slytherin heir and the Gryffindor heir was eventually going to happen. However, now that he doesn't know who you are- it gives us more options.

"More choices," he declared. "Decisions that you must make Harry. I trusted your parents greatly, and I've continued on with that trust in you." Dumbledore paused deliberately, and then continued, "You are the youngest person I have ever invited into the Order, and you have done nothing to disappoint me. You've actually exceeded my expectations. Your parents would be very proud of you, Harry."

Harry gulped, his throat convulsing with his intense feeling at Dumbledore's words. He'd always wanted his parents to be proud of him. "I would hope so," he choked out emotionally. "I've always wanted that."

"Of course you do," the Headmaster murmured reassuringly, "and they would be. They would have been proud of you regardless of what you do, Harry. You are their son, and you always will be. I'm sure you realize with all the rumors that have been going through Durmstrang, what winning the Triwizard entails. And truly, I never expected you to triumph over Sahar with the favoritism that the other Death Eaters have for her.

"But you did," he remarked, his blue eyes twinkling. "Impressing Voldemort is a hard thing to do, and considering you got the winning point from him- you are well on your way to worming your way into his trust. He's intrigued by you, Harry, and we can use that to our advantage. Still, it is your decision but be prepared for him to ask you to join him as a Death Eater. There has not been a Triwizard Champion that has refused him."

Harry had already figured that Voldemort wanted to ask him that, which was why he had tried to avoid the Dark Lord like the plague. And he had wanted Dumbledore to reassure him that that wasn't going to happen. What a complete bombshell, now that the Headmaster had said that that was definitely going to happen. Damn it, his stupid Slytherin ego and his Gryffindor foolishness had combined made such a mess.

What was he going to do now? "I won't do it," Harry stated firmly. "I refuse to be what killed my parents, what killed us here."

The thoughtfulness in Dumbledore's eyes comforted Harry a bit, that this was not any easier on him than it was on Harry.. "No one has refused him in a long time," the Headmaster told Harry slowly. "I am only trying to prepare you, my boy for what is going to happen. It is, and will remain your choice, but if I might offer some advice?" Harry slowly nodded his head for him to continue. "Don't say anything too hastily. See what he'll offer you, and he will make an offer. You are the only other parselmouth than him, do you realize what that means?"

That he had somehow gotten some of Voldemort's power when the Killing Curse had rebounded off of him because of his mother's protection. That was what 'Mione had concluded anyhow, and it did make sense to a degree. If that wasn't the case, there could only be one other explanation- an explanation that he definitely did not want to be true. That he had Slytherin blood somewhere in his bloodline.

"He will think of you as a relation to him," Dumbledore stated firmly. "Because, how else would you have such a gift that is renown for only happening within the Slytherin bloodline? That is what I mean, by using it to your advantage. You might be able to get close to him, without him ever having marked you. It's a possibility, and I want you to think carefully about it. If he makes you his heir, you do understand what this will mean, do you not?"

Yes, Harry realized what that would mean. If he wormed his way into Voldemort's trust completely and made the Dark Lord think that they were related somehow- some way, it would be a great advantage to the Light side. But could he really do that without getting that dreaded Dark Mark on his arm? He didn't think so, and he was certain that Dumbledore was only saying this to comfort him. It wasn't comforting at all.

"You are going to have to make a choice, Harry," Dumbledore told him gently, but there was this intensity in his eyes that told Harry that there really was no option in the manner. "Voldemort will approach, and when he does he will ask you to join him as a Death Eater. He will probably ask you more than that; he will want to know everything about you. You must do everything in your power to make him trust you.

"If he puts you under Veritaserum, we're doomed. You can't manipulate your way around that one," he stated gravely. "Not if Severus brewed the potion, it will certainly be without faults. And he'll likely put you under it if you refuse to join him. But as said, it's up to you. However, you should know Voldemort is not a wizard to be crossed."

That Harry knew. That he knew indeed.

"Damn Dumbledore!" Voldemort cursed viciously. "That manipulative old man deliberately took Biggerstaff away so that I wouldn't be able to confront him first! Still after all these years, he still gets the better of me at times! You would think that he wouldn't, but never mind," he waved his hand dismissively, though his eyes were still gleaming intensely. "It doesn't matter. I have gotten the better of him before, and I will again."

It wasn't normal for the Dark Lord to be so passionate in front of them, then again every time he'd tried to make his way toward young Sebastian he'd been thwarted. In some instances, he could be a very patient man; this was not one of those times. At times it was actually frightening how on edge of sanity he seemed. But fatherhood had tempered him in a way being with Bellatrix had made him even more power hungry.

Sahar was a calming influence on her father, the voice of reason, thank goodness for her. Severus might not particularly like the girl that much, seeing her as another asset that might tip the balance in Voldemort's favor, but he saw that she did keep her father's actions from getting out of hand. It was strange that Sahar didn't have the stomach for the violence that her mother seemed to crave, that her father seemed to enjoy on occasion.

It had to be Narcissa's influence. He had heard that Narcissa had taken care of the girl when she was little, and he knew how Narcissa was. She was fiercely protective of Draco, and couldn't help but be motherly. However, as ferocious as she could be when her child was threatened, she was meek- very meek compared to her older sister, Bellatrix Black Lestrange. There was no comparison between the two really. They were as different as night and day.

"I will have Biggerstaff," Voldemort declared vehemently. "It is only a matter of time. The sooner the better, but if it takes time- so be it." His dark crimson eyes shifted around the small room, where the rest of the Inner Circle Death Eaters had gathered. "Severus," he snapped, "I have heard that you are very close to young Biggerstaff, and I want you to bring him to me. I will not tolerate another delay."

He had to do something. Severus had the nagging feeling in his gut that Sebastian would not respond favorably to being given the honor of being within the Inner Circle. Certainly, Voldemort didn't expect Sebastian to resist overmuch. A little perhaps, considering Dumbledore was a master manipulator- it would only stroke Voldemort's ego that he'd outwitted the other wizard. Yet, Severus knew the Dark Lord was expecting Sebastian to give in, and he wasn't sure that Sebastian would.

"My lord," Severus began in a respectful tone, bowing his head down as he spoke, "I think it would be in your best interest to approach him later. As Lucius has said, Biggerstaff has had a rough childhood, being an orphan, and may be distrustful to strangers. It would be wise to ease your advance, my lord." He paused, his eyes flickering up briefly to meet Voldemort's crimson eyes before shifting downward again. "I think it best to wait until the summer is over. Let me wear down his protective walls for your attack."

"Look at me Severus," Voldemort commanded with that tone of voice that made it impossible to resist. All Severus could do was listen. "The longer I wait, the more time Dumbledore has to influence the boy. Why should I wait? Give me a good reason, other than Biggerstaff is distrustful."

There was another reason, and if he had to play it- he would. "Biggerstaff," Severus began slowly, "has the makings of an excellent mediwizard and a Potions Master. Obviously, he cannot prepare for both examinations at the same time, considering how much time the Triwizard has cut into his preparations. Neither exam is easy, even considering his genius, he will need to work for it.

"And I believe that he has the potential to be the youngest Potions Master…"

"Since you yourself became one on your Hogwarts graduation," the Dark Lord finished for him. "I daresay from you, this is high praise indeed, another reason why I cannot let Dumbledore continue to influence him any longer. The more I wait, the harder it will be, and I would like him to be willing."

"He'll be willing, if you give me time," Severus responded earnestly. "I have great influence with him. As you know from Lucius, I have been instructing him. He trusts me, my lord. I am certain that I can sway him to our side if you give me enough time. It is not like Dumbledore will be able to disturb us if we are at the Snape Manor, can he? And that is where I would take Biggerstaff to prepare him for the Potions Mastery."

The Dark Lord's eyes bore down on Severus'. "Tell me something, Severus, do you believe young Biggerstaff will join us willingly?"

That he didn't know. He hesitated, his eyes vainly searching out for something to say. It was possible to lie to Voldemort, but it didn't make it any easier. It had to be believable and his hesitation wasn't helping the confidence should he speak. "I- believe so."

"You sound uncertain," Voldemort stated easily even though there had been no tremor in Severus' voice, only a thoughtful pause. "You do not know him as well as you think you do, do you?"

"No," Severus answered honestly, not able to deny this. He wanted to know Sebastian more, but he hadn't had the opportunity. And he did get this nagging feeling that there was something that Sebastian wasn't telling him. What he didn't know, but he knew there was something. His gut told him, and his intuition was rarely wrong. "I do not, my lord."

"But you still think I should delay this, and give him this time?"

Severus nodded. That he did.

"If I may speak, my lord?" queried Sirius from the opposite side of the room. Severus shut his eyes, groaning inside, knowing that if there was anything that Sirius would do- it would be to contradict him. Damn that mutt. He was going to ruin everything.

"You may," the Dark Lord allowed.

Sirius nodded his thanks at the approval. "I think it would be wise to give Snape the opportunity to use his influence over young Biggerstaff to guide him to our side. From what I can tell, Biggerstaff seems to know his own mind. He won't be easy to coerce; after all, did he not break through the Imperius curse? That is no easy curse to get around. He's got a strong will. Someone close, like Snape, can get to him though, in a way a stranger can't."

Leaning back against the high back of the chair that was in the very center of the magnificent room, Voldemort considered what Sirius was saying. It wasn't like Black to come to the aid of Snape. That made him reflect on his words more thoughtfully than he normally would. There was no advantage for Sirius to support Severus. And it was highly unusual for them to be working together. Highly unusual.

He narrowed his blood red eyes. "Time, I will grant," Voldemort murmured slowly. "You will have the summer to convince Biggerstaff to join our side. At the end of the summer, I expect to meet with him. And I will expect him to take an oath of loyalty to me as well as the dark mark. Do not fail me, Severus. You will regret it."