Disclaimer: I'm not J., therefor I don't own the characters and places from the Harry Potter, therefor this is not mine!

Author's Note: Okay, I realise that I promised you a summary of the last chapter, but since I edited the chapter so that it's completely harmless, I would suggest you read the parts that are still up, before reading my summary...

Summary of chapter 17: Harry tells Tom that he's a bearer. Tom doesn't understand him and so doesn't use a contraception charm (I realised that this wasn't very clear, sorry about that). They have sex and Harry shuts down, so that he won't be overwhelmed by his memories. And then they fall asleep... Did I forget something? I hope not.

Well here's the next chapter:

emphasis

thoughts

"speech"

Parseltongue/ (I was wondering when I would actually need this again...)

18. THE FIRST DAY- PART ONE

He watched the red-eyed man sleep the whole night, only turning around when Voldemort began to stir. Harry closed his eyes and slowed his breathing, something he had learned from Simon's mum, pretending he was fast asleep. He felt the bed dip in his back as Voldemort sat up, stretched a little and then went to the bathroom. Harry heard him turn on the shower and something that sounded like an electronic razor. Half an hour later the Dark Lord reappeared fully dressed and stood in the doorway for a second, as if unsure what to do. Then he crept up to Harry's bedside careful not to make any noise and knelt down next to his head.

He brushed away one of the black strands that was obscuring his face: "I'm sorry if I hurt you last night, little one!", he whispered, pressing a chaste kiss on the lightning bolt scar, before he quickly moved out the door.

As soon as he heard the outer door snap shut, Harry blinked open his eyes, turning on his back and staring at the black drapings for over ten minutes, before he jumped out of the bed, heading straight for the shower. He scrubbed himself from head to toe furiously, destroying all evidence that Tom had ever touched him, and then got dressed in slightly baggy jeans and one of his new tee-shirts with a small lion at his chest (it had been kind of weird to walk into his cupboard and find that even with his new clothes he barely possessed enough to fill one of the shelves), careful to hide the hickey he couldn't get rid of and that adorned his neck.

He then called for Dobby, asking him for the way to where he would get breakfast, after having told himself that the Death Eaters would think it cowardice, if he wouldn't show up. The small house-elf was delighted as always to be of help and guided him to a door that was more than double of Harry's height.

"Here, it is, Master Harry", Dobby squeaked, bowing deeply, "If Master Harry is needing anything else, he just calls for Dobby or Winky. Is there anything else Dobby, can do for Master Harry?"

"You wouldn't happen to know who's already there, would you?", Harry asked curiously.

"Dobby is knowing: You-Know-Who, Lucius Malfoy, Avery, Nott, Macnair, Crabbe, Goyle, Severus Snape, Bellatrix Lestrange and the Lestrange brothers", said the little creature proudly and Harry nodded absent-mindedly.

It seemed like the Death Eaters were early risers. Harry sighed deeply, waved good-bye to Dobby, and pushed the doors open. He wasn't sure, if they had stopped all conversation at the noise or if they just weren't very talkative this morning, but they all turned around to face him. The hall he entered was dark as seemed to be the whole castle, but to Harry's right there were huge glass windows that let in the light, though the dark stone walls seemed to absorb it immediately. Appearingly Dobby had listed the attenders in the order they were sitting in. Voldemort sat at the head of a long wood table, which was laden with food and was- surprise, surprise- nearly black. To his left was Lucius and on the opposite side was an empty chair, which Harry supposed would be his from now on.

"Ehm, morning?", he said unsurely and walked slowly to where his tall husband sat in a high-backed chair, "What are they all staring at, Tom?", he whispered in the Dark Lord's ear.

"You, I would assume. Good morning, by the way", he answered clearly.

"Can I call you Tom in front of your Death Eaters?", Harry demanded to know, still whispering.

"Sure."

"Thanks", the Gryffindor brushed his lips over the tanned cheek, straightening up, "Morning, Lucius."

"Good morning, Harry", the blond aristocrat returned, looking the small boy over for any signs of pain, relieved to find none.

"Is there sugar in your coffee?", the black haired boy eyed the cup warily, still leaning against the blond's chair.

Lucius shook his head, watching perplexedly as he took his cup of white coffee and sipped it: "Well, thank you, now it's my coffee", he said cheekily, walking over to Severus, before he could formulate a reply.

"Morning, Severus", he greeted the Potion's Master, who just mumbled something into the book, he was obviously reading.

"If you're going to steal something from me as well, Gryffindor will be in the negative, before you even set foot in the Great Hall", he then scowled, glowering up at his student.

"You're no fun, Severus", Harry pouted, "And if you don't give me something to eat, Madam Pomfrey will have your head..."

"I'm not afraid of that fussy witch, Potter", the Professor snorted, turning a page.

"... she'll make you do all those healing potions, she'll convince Dumbledore that all the students need immunisation against the flue and of course she'll need your help in administering the potion, she'll check you for every illness or sickness, she has ever heard about and then she'll make you drink one of herpotions, she'll...", Harry enumerated, his grin broadening, while Snape's face was going paler and paler.

"I got it, Potter", he finally interrupted and thrust his plate at the smirking boy, "Here, take whatever you want."

"Who ever said I wanted anything, Severus?", Harry laughed, kissing his cheek, which made his scowl deepen even more, "And Gryffindor will win the House Cup."

He skipped away, ignoring the Potion's Master grumbling, and went to sit at his place next to the Dark Lord. Unfortunately he had to pass Bellatrix Lestrange, who stuck out her foot to make him fall.

Harry just quirked an eyebrow, gracefully stepping over it: "What? Aren't you going to steal some of our food as well, Mudblood? Seems like my dearest cousin isn't paying you well enough for your services, I always knew he had bad tastes. Do you miss him already, little Harry, do you miss your sugar daddy? You should serve us, that's the only thing, you'll ever be good for, anyway, you're just a little catamite, you pathetic excuse of a wizard."

"That's quite enough, Bella", Tom wanted to intervene, but the words got stuck in his throat, as he watched his husband turn around slowly, his face blank, and reach for a bowl of fruit salad.

"Would you want some fruit salad, Mr. Lestrange?", he said in an emotionless voice to the elder Lestrange brother.

"No, thank you, Mr. Potter", the dark haired man replied, confusion shining in his eyes.

"Would you want some fruit salad, Mrs. Lestrange?", Harry asked in the same way, inclining his head slightly.

"Yes, slave", the tall black-haired woman smirked triumphantly.

But this didn't last long, because instead of piling some of the fruity substance on her plate, Harry emptied the bowl over her head, putting it on top: "Firstly, the correct term is Halfblood or blood traitor or the product of a blood treason, secondly I assure you that I have other qualities than serving food or having sex and lastly I would advise you to not come near me, to not touch me, to not speak to me, to not insult me and to never mess with me or my family again. Have a good day!"

With that he turned his back on the furious and fruit salad-covered woman, walking calmly to his seat.

"You", he heard the scream behind him, but didn't turn around, "I'll kill you painfully and slowly", she spat cleaning herself off.

"Death?", Harry mocked, "I'm not afraid of death, Lestrange. And pain? I experienced pains you wouldn't even know how to describe let alone inflict. So go on, curse me, I'll make sure to laugh in your face, once you finished your pathetic attempts."

"Then describe it", the female Death Eater challenged.

"You wouldn't understand it, for understanding would require feelings and you're obviously lacking in that department", Harry answered coldly, still not turning around, and continued on his way.

The next thing he heard was the swishing of a wand and the soaring of curses. Harry swirled around barely dodging a red beam. Bellatrix advanced quickly, never pausing in her attacks and Harry saw no other choice. A bright light enveloped his body, for one or two seconds and when it disappeared, it seemed like Harry had disappeared as well. Most of the Death Eaters and Voldemort himself thought, the Gryffindor had been hit by one of Bellatrix' spells, but then they spotted a rather small and thin black panther with unproportionally big paws and vibrant green eyes, who ducked down in preparation to attack. And attack he did: Bellatrix had just finished another string of spells, when suddenly the little cat of prey darted forward and hit her face with one pawn, the crawls leaving four angry red and slightly bleeding marks on her face. The force of the jump made the witch loose her balance and drop her wand and she landed on the hard stone floor with an angry panther standing on her chest. Harry, the panther, hissed at her, showing his impressive canines, which made the witch loose the rest of her skin colour. She tried to scramble away, which Harry allowed, impelling her to the only door, matching each of her steps with one of his own. As her back hit against the door, she fumbled with the handle not taking her eyes of the growling cat and finally slipped through the narrow gap, closing the door firmly behind her. Harry stood there for several moments listening to any sounds and didn't turn away, till he was sure she had gone.

He stalked back to his seat, changing back half way there and flopped down.

"Keep her away from me", he said clearly- no-one missed the underlying threat in his voice.

"You're an Animagus?", Lucius eventually asked after a long silence, in which everyone had regarded him, like you would a volcano, not sure, if it would erupt again.

"It would seem so", the small boy rolled his eyes.

"Why didn't you inform me of this, when I said you should train to be one?", Tom asked a bit miffed.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry", Harry replied sarcastically, "Would you like to know all the jinxes I don't know the counter curses to? I'll write you a list right now...", he got up from the table, a scowl on his face.

"Wait", Harry put his head against the still closed door and sighed impatiently: "What, Tom?"

"Sit back down", the Dark Lord ordered calmly, even going so far as to pull out Harry's chair so that he could take his seat easier.

/I hate you, Harry hissed dangerously, but sat down, staring mutely at a point behind Lucius shoulder.

Tom should be pleased that Harry had obeyed him, shouldn't he? Well, he wasn't. And though he knew that Harry didn't actually hate him, it hurt in a strange place inside his chest to hear those words. Or maybe Harry did hate him? He would certainly hate himself if he was Harry... Perhaps he had hurt Harry more than he realised last night, the small boy had acted kind of strange, but on the other hand he had thought Harry would scream at him and castrate him when he fell asleep, so Harry's reaction was definitely curious... He absent-mindedly grabbed for his third cheese sandwich, his hand meeting an empty plate. Tom looked up startled, there had been one left only moments ago.

"Who took my cheese sandwich?", he snarled, his red eyes flashing in anger.

"That would be me", Harry smiled a bit too innocently up at him, pointing at the sandwich that lay on his plate untouched.

"Give it back."

"Let me think about it...", Harry tapped his chin in thought, "No. Make your own sandwich. Don't tell me the great Lord Voldemort is not even able to make his own sandwich- that's really pathetic, you know?"

Tom glared at him: "Everyone can make a sandwich, but I have house-elves to do that."

"I gave them the day off", Harry grinned.

"You're bluffing."

"Well, Dobby is still here... I don't think we have to argue, whose bidding he will do, Tom", the petite Gryffindor smirked, "Now, make your sandwich."

"You can't order me around."

"And who gives you the right to order me around?", Harry snapped, his eyes spitting green fire, "You wanted me to sit at this stupid table just so that your minions can stare some more at me and now I'm not even allowed to eat, or what?", he glared some more, before turning back to his sandwich, carefully putting the Swiss cheese on the edge of the plate, before putting it back together.

"What are you doing?", Tom asked much more civilly.

"I don't like cheese very much", the black-haired boy shrugged, irritating Tom once again: "Then why did you take my cheese sandwich?"

"Why did you order me to sit back down, if you were only going to snap at me?"

Tom took a deep breath, then, to calm down.

Shouting at Harry, would get them nowhere and Harry somehow had a point there, as Lucius half amused, half angry expression told him all too clearly: "Fine. You can have that sandwich and for your information I wanted to tell you your schedule for the following weeks", he turned around to the Death Eaters, who had followed their conversation with fascination, "Stop staring at him", at once their eyes swivelled away from them.

"I'm not going to apologise", the young man clarified stubbornly, wrapping his arms around his up-drawn knees in an protecting gesture, "She started it and you never asked me if I already was an Animagus. And it's your own fault for ordering me around."

"I never expected you, too", Tom smirked slightly but there was no malice in it, "Would you like to eat something else?"

"No, you can have the sandwich", the black-haired boy declined and pushed his plate over to the Dark Lord, who accepted it gratefully, "But... Where is my coffee?"

"Here it is", Rabastan, who sat next to him, spoke up, "You put it there before my sister-in-law attacked you."

"Thanks, Mr. Lestrange", Harry replied, smiling politely and accepting the cup, drinking from the hot substance, burning his tongue, "Shit, why is this damned coffee still so bloody hot?"

"There're heating charms on all of the tableware", Tom informed him matter-of-factly, his smirk growing bigger, "And you shouldn't use such foul language."

"Look who's speaking", the petite boy muttered, "Will you show me that stupid schedule of yours anytime soon or should I try my luck with divination?"

Voldemort snorted, for a few seconds mesmerised by the way Harry's lips formed a small 'o' to blew on his coffee, and handed over a piece of paper with each of the days left, until school would start again, represented by a small box in which Voldemort had written either "Martial Arts", "Occlumency", "Healing Potions" or "Animagus training". It seemed like the portioning out of the lessons had been geared by the different days of the week and like he had left off the Sunday completely. On Tuesdays and Saturdays he only had one lesson, while every other day he was scheduled for two.

"Obviously, you won't need to take the Animagus training so that time will be free for you, too", Tom added, after he had pulled himself together, "The exact times of your lessons you'll arrange with your respective teachers."

"You do realise that I have an awfully lot of free time, don't you? Not that I'm complaining", he continued quickly, "I just expected you to load me with work so that I would have no time to destroy your castle or something like that."

The tall black-haired man looked a bit uncomfortable as he answered/I thought that we could perhaps get to know each other more on one of your free days... With this new development, I won't have any part of your lessons- at least while you still aren't allowed to use magic- but I want to spent some time with you all the same. Maybe we could agree on a day, where we just talk and go for a walk maybe? I realise that this is not part of the contract, but I think it would make this more easier and enjoyable on the long run... What do you say/

/Not on Sunday or Monday, but otherwise I like your suggestion, Harry returned, also switching to Parseltongue.

/What about Tuesday then, the red-eyed man offered relievedly/You have the whole day off./

/Sure, Harry nodded, sipping his white coffee/Any suggestions what I should be doing in my free time or would you rather wait for what I can come up with/

/Lucius asked me on behalf of his son, if Draco could spent some time here, since his mother is off to France with one of her friends, Tom answered, gauging Harry's reaction carefully/Maybe you would like to let him entertain you/

/I would like him to come, the small boy agreed immediately and the Dark Lord didn't miss the hopefulness in his voice, nor the jealousy that rose in his own chest.

"Good", Tom stood up, holding out his hand expectantly, "Since it looks like the others have abandoned us, how about I help you find one of the male Lestranges so that you can start on your first lesson?"

It was true, somewhere in their long conversation in Parseltongue the Death Eaters had decided that this was most likely a private talk or more likely a marital row (that they were hissingat each other did nothing to reverse the effect) and had left them alone.

Harry took the offered hand and let the taller man guide him out of the breakfast hall through the large door that was even higher than two Voldemorts. Just outside stood Rabastan, obviously waiting for them, casually leaning against the stone walls, pushing away when he saw them and straightening up.

"Mylord, Mr. Potter", he inclined his head gracefully, "If you don't have other plans, my brother and I would be delighted to commence with the training."

"I would like that", Harry replied shyly.

"Good, Harry, I'm afraid, I won't be able to give you the tour right now, because I have a meeting with Fudge", Harry grimaced compassionately, "If you have any questions or need help with anything, you can ask either Lucius or Severus", Harry nodded, "Harry", he lowered his voice so that Rabastan, who was staring out of a nearby window, couldn't hear him, "Are you in any pain from yesterday night? Should I ask Severus for a salve?"

"No, Tom, I'm fine, but thank you", Harry stood on tiptoe so that he could brush Voldemort's cheek with his lips, "Don't worry about me, I can look after myself."

"I know", he returned, pressing his lips on Harry's scar, "Rabastan, you will keep him safe and see to it that no-one hurts him in any way, understood?", he didn't wait for an answer and walked away- he was in a hurry, he would be meeting with Fudge in less than half an hour.

"Yes, Mylord", the Death Eater nodded, "Mr. Potter, if you would please follow me?"

Harry walked beside him obediently (which seemed to unnerve the brown-haired man slightly), not paying much attention to his surroundings, while he tried to get a picture of Rabastan. He was pretty sure, he would like him more than Bellatrix, but he liked virtually everybody more than the heavy-lidded woman, so that didn't say much.

"My brother is setting up the room, so that we can start almost immediately", Rabastan interrupted the long silence, "Do you have any experience with martial arts? Other than being able to dodge curses?"

"My cousin boxes and he showed me some of his punches and stuff, but he isn't very patient, so I only learned the basics", Harry didn't like such questions, it reminded him of how weak he really was.

Dudley wasn't all that impatient, he just concluded that Harry was too weak and little for boxing, after he had accidentally knocked him out for the fourth time. Truth be told, he hadn't lost consciousness at all, however it always made pretending he didn't feel the pain easier, when his uncle had some "fun" with him.

"Well, I think it's still something we can work with", the brown-eyed man decided, closely surveying the boy from the corner of his eye, "We are almost there now, it's just down the stairs."

The Gryffindor reluctantly walked ahead down a rather narrow and dark passageway. He blinked furiously, when he stepped down the last step and was instantly blinded by the bright light. This is not good, his mind supplied helpfully: there was a Death Eater behind him, another somewhere in front of him and he stood there like a deer caught in headlight, with no idea how the room, he was in looked like or if there was anywhere he could escape to.

"Mr. Potter, I hope you like our training rooms", he heard a smooth voice to his left and when he blinked his eyes once again, he found that they had already adjusted to the light.

To his surprise they appeared to be no longer in the castle itself, but somewhere outside. It looked like a little clearing, which was still large enough to have ample operation space, surrounded by all kinds of trees, though for the most part they were deciduous trees, and the ground was covered by soft, short grass and small nests of flowers.

"Are we still inside?", Harry asked astoundedly, slowly rotating so that he could get a good look at everything.

"Yes", Rudolphus replied, smirking (a facial expression, which all the Death Eaters seemed to like a lot), "In fact we're in the dungeons. Most of what you see is an illusion, though the grass under your feet is substantial as is one of the trees and the rock you can see in the far corner."

"It looks great", Harry exclaimed, smiling happily, "But wouldn't it be much easier to just go outside? I mean there is a garden, isn't there?"

"You're correct, but it's more like a jungle and while we need a place where you feel at ease with yourself and your surroundings, we don't want to be attacked from behind", Rabastan explained, removing his shoes, "How about we start now?"

The black-haired boy nodded, still at awe with this room: "We'll first show you some basic stances, Mr. Potter, if you would remove your shoes and your socks?", demanded Rudolphus.

"You can call me Harry, if you want, Sir", the boy said, as he did as told, putting his shoes neatly next to the four bigger ones of the Lestrange brothers.

Neither of the older men replied, however they exchanged a look, Harry wasn't sure he interpreted correctly, and ordered him, even though politely, to watch them closely, while they made some simple moves.

The first two hours or so passed dreadfully slowly with the two brothers correcting everything from the way he made his fists to how he should move his legs. But the worst was that they kept touching him, which made him really nervous, and he had a hard time not to wince or shy away every time they did this. And in all honesty the few moves and stances, he had to repeat over and over again, weren't very captivating. Finally the Lestranges were satisfied with his progress so far and decided that Harry should try some of the kicks and punches on person for the remaining time.

"Stop!", Harry exclaimed, as Rudolphus got into position, "You expect me to hityou? I can't hit you, Sir. I'll hurt you!"

The two brown-haired men shared another smirk- they seemed to do it a lot: "I already threw up some protection spells, Mr. Potter, and now begin!"

The green-eyed wizard still looked doubtful, but got into position opposite from Rudolphus and started with some easy punches, directed at his stomach, careful not to come into contact. He repeated that a couple of times, until Rabastan reproached him for this course of action and hustled him forward.

Harry eyed the distance between Rudolphus and him warily, before he hesitantly aimed another punch at the hard stomach. His fist connected with the taught muscles and he looked up fearfully, as he didn't feel any magical shields, but the brown-haired man only nodded and Rabastan urged him to continue. So he carried on with the punches and then proceeded with one of the kicks, they had shown him earlier.

It all went well, till the brothers demanded that he should direct the last few kicks to Rudolphus' chin instead. Considering that Harry only reached up to it, if standing on his tiptoes this was as good as impossible. But Harry was never one for giving up- one of the reasons, he was still alive- and so he once again checked his stance and then after taking a deep breath, made the same move again, aiming as high as he could, forcefully keeping his eyes open (it wouldn't do to have them reprimand him for this again). To his immense surprise, and obviously to that of the Lestranges' as well, his bare foot actually connected with Rudolphus' face, unhinging him, splitting his lip. On top of that Harry wasn't able to regain his footing and when Rabastan tried to stabilise him, they all tumbled down to the grass, Harry's weight on his chest, knocking the breath out of the younger brother.

"Oh, Merlin, I'm so sorry, Mr. Lestrange, Mr. Lestrange, I'm sorry, it was all my fault, Sirs, did I hurt one of you?", the small wizard scrambled away from the two, his eyes widened in fear.

"I'm fine", the younger of the two brothers replied, massaging his chest, "What about you, Rudo?"

"I'll definitely survive, though it was quite a kick, Mr. Potter", he smirked, "Are you okay, Mr. Potter?"

"I'm sorry, you're bleeding Mr. Lestrange", Harry tentatively stood up, ignoring the question, and stepped over to Rudolphus, gently turning his head so that he could examine the wound, "I feel so bad about this. You should cool it till it stops bleeding. Dobby?"

At once the small elf appeared with a plop, immediately bowing: "Master Harry is wanting something?"

"Yes, Dobby, can you bring me some ice cubes to cool Mr. Lestrange's lip?", the Gryffindor asked, missing the confused glances the two brothers exchanged.

The house-elf nodded eagerly, plopping away and returning seconds later with a few ice cubes wrapped in a towel.

"Thank you, Dobby, will you greet Winky from me?", Harry thanked him, handing the towel over to the older Death Eater.

A huge smile split Dobby's face and after shaking his head in the affirmative he vanished again.

"Mr. Potter, what is going on and could you eventually answer the question?", scowled Rabastan and his brother nodded approvingly.

"Are you sure you are alright, Sir?", insured the green-eyed boy himself, avoiding the question once again.

"We're fine!", spat the Death Eater, "Now, answer the question!"

"Don't scream at me!", Harry snapped back, "And don't order me around! What do you think you were doing? You told me that you had up some spells which would prevent anything from happening, and now you have a split lip, Mr. Lestrange! I don't care if you like to be bet up, but I'll not have a part of it, Sir! And you're not much better, Mr. Lestrange."

"Calm down", Rudolphus said, taking the ice cube from his mouth, "We never expected you to really reach my chin, so I didn't have any spells to cover that part of my body."

"You bloody well told me to kick your chin!", Harry fumed, glaring at the brown-haired wizard, "I did everything you asked me to do so far, why did you think I wouldn't do this as well, Mr. Lestrange?"

"We underestimated you, Mr. Potter, and we're sorry that you think we lied to you", pacified Rabastan, "We apologise for both of it. Now would you tell us if you're hurt?"

"My ankle hurts", Harry murmured subduedly, his head bowed.

"If you will sit down, my brother and I will have a look at it", Rudolphus settled on the soft grass, his brother followed suit.

Harry sat down across from them, pointing at his left foot silently, if a bit accusingly. The older Death Eater carefully rolled up his trouser leg to have a better look at the damage done and placed the small foot in his lap. The ankle was a little swollen and sported a unpleasant shade of blue.

"It's seems to be sprained", the younger of the two brothers gave his opinion, "We'll bandaged it up and bring you to Severus- I'm sure he has a cure for this."

"He's with Tom in this meeting with Fudge and Dumbledore", Harry intervened, earning himself two surprised looks, "But I'd appreciate it, if you could bandage it, before I go."

"You won't go anywhere, while you're hurt!", the brothers said simultaneously.

"Won't I?", the green-eyed boy mocked, standing up, not even wincing as he stressed his ankle, "I don't need a baby-sitter, let alone two."

"Our lesson is not yet finished, Mr. Potter!", Rudolphus argued, "Sit down."

Harry laughed harshly: "Is that another one of those situation, where you tell me to do something, but don't really expect me to accomplish it? This time you won't be disappointed, Sir!"

He resolutely walked to the staircase, making sure there was no visible sign of his injury: "Mr. Potter!", Rudolphus sounded a bit less indifferent than normally, but Harry continued on his way.

The two brothers exchanged one of those looks again with which they seemed to be able to communicate the same as with words: "Harry, please wait!"

The small boy stopped and turned around to face them again: "Maybe we could talk for a while, until Severus is back from this meeting?", Rabastan suggested pleadingly.

"What is there to talk about, Mr. Lestrange?", asked Harry warily, but stayed where he was.

"Why don't you sit down again and while we tend to your injury you can ask us some questions?", offered Rudolphus.

"Fine, but don't lie to me. If you don't want to answer just say so", Harry sat down again, sending the two men serious looks.

They nodded simultaneously and started to work at his ankle.

"How old are you, Mr. Lestrange?", the small boy decided to start with an easy question- at least if the Lestranges weren't as vain as Sirius.

"34", "36", they answered at the same time so that all Harry understood was a jumbled mess.

"Beg your pardon?", Harry raised an eyebrow in amusement, "Could you repeat that and this time maybe one at a time, Sirs?"

"Call us by our first names, otherwise it'll get to confusing", Rabastan said after some face-to-face-interaction with his brother, "My brother is 36 and I'm 34."

Harry barely contained his smirk, he had already wondered how long it would take them to realise this or better yet, how long their stubbornness would get into the way: "So, you're the two youngest Death Eaters in the inner circle, right?"

They nodded mutely, while Rudolphus secured the bandage.

"How come you know all this martial arts stuff? It's not exactly a Wizarding thing, is it?", he looked at Rudolphus expectantly knowing it was his turn to answer.

"One of our ancestors lost his magic in a duel to defend the family honour- his opponent had got his sister pregnant and refused to marry her- at first it looked like he would regain his magic with time and he did regain some of it, but he never again came past second year level. Since he had killed the other wizard, his family swore revenge on him and he couldn't afford to have such a weakness. So he went into hiding and learned all there was on martial arts- from books and Masters of the art. Finally he was prepared enough to face his enemies again and when they attacked he won, catching them unprepared for his new skills. They thought he had delved deeper into the Dark Arts than anyone before him, because they just couldn't understand how he defeated them without his wand. They thought his magic was so strong now that it was invisible and deadly. So they called cease-fire. But our ancestor saw the advantage in this and taught his descendants all he knew, they again told their children and so on", the older of the two explained.

The black-haired wizard hmmed, looking pensive. They spent a while in silence, while the Death Eaters waited for Harry to come up with another question.

Eventually they grew impatient: "Don't you want to ask us anything else?", Rabastan asked.

"Oh, sorry, I was just thinking", Harry blushed a little, "At the moment I don't have any question, but if you want to ask me something, go ahead..."

"If I had said yes this morning, would you have dumped the fruit salad on me instead?", Rudolphus asked curiously.

"I don't know. Maybe...", Harry studied him carefully, replaying the scene in his head, "Most likely."

"Good, I don't like fruit salad then", the older Death eater murmured, surprised, as he heard Harry chuckle.

"Good, indeed", he smiled slightly, "Rabastan, do you have a question?"

"Could you always transform into a panther or did you learn to be one?", he inquired, remembering the furious little feline.

"Neither", replied Harry, "I am an natural Animagus, but Dumbledore had blocked my magic for fear I could blow everyone up in a childish tantrum. I only had access to so much of my magic that I wouldn't be physically ill, before I came to Hogwarts. When I accepted my letter he obviously had to give me more of it, but it still was under a tight leash, so I only discovered this ability somewhere last year."

"So Dumbledore released you from the bindings?", Rudolphus concluded, but Harry vehemently shook his head.

"No, the block was based on trust: as long as I trusted him he had access to my magic and could practically do with it, as he pleased", he explained, "When he refused to look into my eyes the whole year, assigned Severus to help me and finally kept the prophesy from me, my trust first wavered and then disappeared completely and with it the bindings."

"You don't seem to be upset about this", Rabastan noticed, "I would be furious, if someone bound my magic."

"I didn't know, I was a wizard, so I didn't miss it then", the green-eyed boy shrugged nonchalantly, "And I never knew about it up until now and now I have it back, what is there to be angry about? I always had enough magic and even if maybe some things would have went differently, if he hadn't done this to me, there's no telling it would have been better, what's done is done. I can't worry about the past, too!"

"I guess it makes sense", Rudolphus finally decided, quirking an eyebrow, as Harry broke down laughing.

"Do you always do that?", he wheezed out between laughing.

"What?", they both said confusedly, exchanging looks.

"You always take turns in talking", Harry clarified, laughing once again, when they threw surprised looks at each other, "You hadn't even noticed, had you?"

"No", they confessed, before Rabastan continued alone: "I guess it's one of the ticks we developed in Azkaban."

"I'm sorry, if I brought back bad memories", Harry apologised immediately, "It just struck me. And it's kind of cute."

Now it was their turn to laugh at Harry's flushed face: "Why, thank you, Harry", the older brother said, "And it's okay, we offered that you may ask us questions, after all."

"Then, if you don't mind me asking, how did you stay sane there?", the Gryffindor asked shyly.

The older wizards seemed to think about it for a while, before Rabastan answered: "Unlike your godfather we weren't in the high-security tract, but somewhere, where the Dementors only patrolled once a day. Obviously torturing two people into insanity isn't as bad as being innocent. Anyway, we also had cells next to each other so that we could remind us of all the good things in our life."

"Do you feel sorry for it?", Harry wanted to know, looking down so that they wouldn't see the desperately pleading look.

"Yes", they said immediately without hesitation, "We're definitely not proud of what we did, but we were desperate to find the Dark Lord and my wife was convinced the Longbottoms would know something about his whereabouts. It was an horrendous act and we at least should have had the decency to kill them."

"Maybe", the green-eyed boy had time to say, before there was a loud gong, which seemed quite unfitting in their pseudo-clearing, and Rabastan explained that is was time for lunch and they should head back up.

Rudolphus extended his hand to the still sitting Harry and pulled him up to his feet, stabilising him, when he was on the verge of losing his balance again. The two brothers led the smaller wizard up the stairs and then they moved to flanking him like two overprotective and not very subtle body-guards. Harry was half amused by their behaviour and half scared by their proximity and them towering over him, still he was grateful, they were there to show him the way through the dark castle.

Okay, I'm seriously addicted to your reviews, I can't write without them sobs... Do you have a cure? Or maybe just reviews! Give me reviews! Please!