Thanks for the reviews ppl!
Suggestions on pairings much appreciated!
My muse had finally unstuck itself from the ceiling and decided to bop me on the head.
Warnings: None, as of yet. But a very OOC Voldie, coz ya just gotta luv that bad kid.
Disclaimers: Don't own. Sue someone else.
Title: Immortal Secrets
Revised version 1.0 - and hopefully the last time.
Now I'm bound by the life you left behind
Your face it haunts
My once pleasant dreams
Your voice it chased away
All the sanity in me
--- Evanescence, My Immortal
On the morn of a certain Sunday, the day when the Hogwarts Express chugged its way slowly into Hogsmead Station, the day when Hogwarts' students flooded back to resume their studies (much to Filch's disgust and Hermione's delight), the day when Harry could obtain his last peaceful night's sleep without Neville's snoring, the golden boy found himself accosted by a certain blond Professor in his bedroom.
"Rise and shine Harry! The sun is shining brightly on us. It'll be a shame not to greet him." A yellow and green blob was busily opening all available curtains. Harry blinked sleepily and groaned. He didn't want to wake up. No sane person should be awake at. . . Harry reached for his glasses and wand. With a flick of his hand and a whispered 'tempus' Harry wished he had the old Professor back.
What the hell was Professor Greenleaf doing in his bedroom at 5:30 in the morning?!
The young wizard flopped back underneath his warm covers. There's no way he's going to be up at this ungodly hour. Even the Dursley's don't wake him up this early!
After five minutes of feigning sleep underneath his covers, wishing that the Professor would finally get the hint, Harry peeked out from his hiding place. Needless to say, with his wish wasn't answered.
Harry felt a hand stroking his hair, soothing away the tension between his shoulders. He stirred, unconsciously leaning into the hands. He would have purred if he was a cat, the skillful hands went on petting his hair sending him into a cozy, safe oblivion.
The spell broke as sudden as it began. Harry felt the warmth taken away and replaced by an amused chuckle. Legolas smiled at Harry's confused eyes, "You have Gimli-type hair Harry. It grows all over the place!" Dimly, Harry wondered whether he should be insulted or not. What is a Gimli?
Legolas attempted to flatten Harry's hair once more and chuckled. "It bounces straight back up like Gimli's. Well, are you awake now? Master Dumbledore has requested us to carry out an errand. Let us not be late."
Somewhere in Diagon Alley…
Voldemort stretched lazily as he sauntered down the public street. He had to admit he liked being gawked at, not due to terror but due to his immense beauty and grace and, judging from the rather lustful gazes that were drawn to his tight dragon-leather pants, his sexual appeal.
He smirked to himself at the slight jealous frown from a certain Malfoy walking beside him. Apparently the blond was rather peeved from the sudden attention the public bestowed on his Lord.
"My Lo-" Voldemort glared at the man beside him. Lucius started, blushed under the close scrutiny of his Lord's new brownish-red eyes, blushed again when he realized that he, a Malfoy, was blushing of all things, before opening his mouth, "Edward, would you like to stop for lunch? I know this nice restaurant just round the corner that serves excellent imported Italian wine."
'Edward' paused and pretended to think, enjoying the rather nervous look on Lucius's elegant face. It wasn't often you see a Malfoy loose their emotionless and arrogant façade. "Are you hungry Lucius?"
"Well, it is still early…" Lucius hesitated. His Lord had just breakfasted with him two hours ago. But still . . . at least a restaurant can provide some privacy from the filthy Muggle-lovers surrounding them. Filthy Muggle-lovers that were lusting after his Lord. Lucius gripped his cane tighter, he's the most loyal! They had no right! "But the place is rather popular."
Voldemort sneered at the blond, "If you're hungry then go get us a table in Les Trois Griffes. I'll be there shortly."
Lucius opened his mouth to protest but his Lord waved him off. The blonde man wisely closed his mouth and walked regally off when he noticed the rather malicious red tint in Voldemort's brown eyes.
With the man gone, Voldemort went off on his own again, enjoying the feeling of being adored. It's been too long, he mused to himself. Back in his days, when he'd just gained power, people would kill themselves just to snivel at his feet. He was content back then, plotting for the world was always fun, especially when all he had to do is to sit back and let his henchmen gawk, swoon and basically degenerate into drooling puppies when he gazed upon them.
Which was understandable why he was upset when someone took away all bestowed attention from him.
Originally, Legolas had wanted to drag Severus with him to Diagon Alley. The man needed to lighten up. He looked even worse than Aragon after a particular late bar-night with Rivendell's duo menaces. But Dumbledore had requested him to bring Harry instead. So Legolas grudgingly accepted, hoping that Harry would be a better company during the day than when he last saw the human boy.
Harry seemed to be surrounded by doom and gloom these days. Very much like Frodo after his trip to Mordor. Legolas, being an elf, tried to cheer Harry up by pranking Snape . . . now that Legolas thought about it. That was probably why Dumbledore hadn't wanted Severus to go with him. At least it did cheer Harry up to some extent.
Hence, with the help of a borrowed transfiguration book from Flitwick, Legolas was ready to leave by dawn. His golden hair tied neatly in their warrior braids, a clean, slightly worn robe donned, soft elven boots on his feet, Legolas was in Harry's room by the time the sun peeked shyly over the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
After a very much delayed departure, Harry apparently disliked the Gimli disguise and was utterly disgusted with the Gandalf one as well. They finally settled with changing Harry's black hair into a dusty blond and growing Harry's body so he looked older.
The disguise worked wonderfully. Harry was pleased with the result. He looked like a younger version of Professor Greenleaf's brother or close cousin without the pointed ears. Added to the fact that for once, there was no gawking or staring at his scar when he went out in public. They were all too busy discreetly staring at his companion.
But that maybe because the said companion kept zig-zagging the streets in order to enter as many shops as possible before Harry reached their destination.
They never got to the shop. Midway there, Harry felt the familiar surge of pain on his forehead. His vision wavered and buckled onto his knees, dimly aware of Legolas's voice calling to him in concern. Harry placed his hands on his head in a half-hearted attempt to block what felt like a hundred rhinos tap-dancing in his skull. He was happy. Harry didn't know exactly why he was. Then, just as abruptly, it turned into annoyance. What was odd was that he didn't have any visions. Just the world spinning crazily like an out-of-controlled Merry-go-around.
Someone pushed something flat into his hand with whispers of anxiety. Harry attempted to lift his head to listen. He couldn't understand what the 'someone' was saying. Was it even in English? It sounded like the babbling of a brook, calm and soothing, laced with concern but incoherent to a human's mind. Harry felt himself relaxing to the unknown voice, the darkness around his vision slowly faded. The pain from his scar dissipated gradually replaced with a soft tingling and a sharp jerk around his belly button. Harry never got to finish his curse, he suddenly found himself landing in one of the many empty beds in Hogwarts' infirmary. He hated portkeys.
Legolas was not happy. Not a bit. The poison smoke that filled the air choked his burning lungs. He couldn't feel the brush of the breeze against his cheeks, nor the sound of woodland animals. Plus, he couldn't feel the trees. It was as if he was in Mordor all over again. The elf shuddered with disgust. Right, the sooner he finished he errand, the sooner he could get out. And the sooner he could go back to Hogwarts' clean air and peaceful forest. Of course he was worried about Harry too, but Master Dumbledore that already warned him that something like that might happen.
The blond elf darted gracefully through the throngs of shoppers, ignoring the strange gazes from passerbys, wondering exactly what was wrong in his attire to make them stare so. What Legolas did not realize was that the staring was due to the fact that he was running a little too quickly and too gracefully for a wizard. There was yet a spell to be invented that boosted a wizard's speed and agility.
After a minute or two, the elf had reached the end of Diagon Alley and his destination. The bell rang softly as Legolas stepped inside Olivanders. He eyed the dusty boxes sitting on the rickety shelves and sneezed. This place reeked of magic and dead wood. Legolas shuddered at the last thought. So this was where all the wood in this Mordor-like place went.
"Master Olivander. I'm here to pick up Dumbledore's orders."
A small, wrinkled man hobbled out from the backroom, stopped short as his penetrating eyes connected with piercing sapphires. For a moment, the two were locked into each other's gazes, each trying to read the other's move before speaking. Olivander finally stuttered out, "Y-you're . . . you are the new professor?"
Legolas nodded affirmative, noting with amusement that Olivander looked to be of the same height as Pippin.
Knowing eyes swept down to Legolas' toes, travelling up to the fair face and finally resting on illusioned, blunt ears. "Hmmmm . . . a-are you a man?" The halfling-look alike asked somewhat hesitating with a hint of reference.
"Ah." Beaming Olivander bowed to the creature in front of him. "Please follow me. There are wandering eyes and ears everywhere nowadays."
The elf soon found himself in a wand-making workshop. There was a long desk running the entire length of the room against the wall, and another one in the middle. A fire crackled merrily under a pot of what looked to be melted honey and caramel mixture but smelt oddly like burnt potatoes. Tools dangled rather dangerously at the edge of the work desks. Bits of wood and what Legolas suspected to be wand core materials lay scattered in their respective baskets.
The man rummaged around a pile of uncut leather muttering to himself. "Ah. Here it is." Legolas looked suspiciously at the round orb-like, wrapped object in front of him. Last time he had confronted one of these odd things, it happened to be Saruman's crystal ball. Not a very good experience. He stretched out his senses, and sighed in relief when he found nothing really evil inside the package. At least nothing too evil. Even the most harmless can be the downfall of the most powerful. Witness Frodo and Sauron.
Legolas took the package gingerly. Olivander quickly turned back to the pile of leather beside him. "And this is for you." This time the package was a stick-like shape with an uneven bulge on the top.
"A few days ago I was cleaning up my great step-aunt's husband's brother's nephew's attic and found this. I'm pretty sure it's supposed to be wand even with it's rather unusual shape. Afterall, it's the wand that chooses their master. And you are an unusual man."
The elf was starting to wonder whether the man had a Butterbeer too many. He certainly did not look like a man!
Voldemort was angry. Why does the Potter brat have to appear on his first grand re-admittance into the wizarding world? Does the boy have a death wish? Oh right, he does. Why else would he keep insisting on his annual killing committee? The man gritted his teeth in frustration. The boy's the bane of his existence. Like an annoying mosquito hovering around your head that just wouldn't go away and delighted in sucking your blood in the most conspicuous places.
How, just how could he possibly get rid of the boy for good? And keep his sanity at the same time. Really, keeping an eye for the brat is rather irritating. Not to mention now that the brat had reached 'that' age, who knows what kind of dreams the brat could be having? Voldemort growled to himself softly. Maybe he should call for another special Potter meeting. Maybe he should –
"Oh. My apologies." The offending door to Olivander's was quickly pushed away.
Voldemort rubbed his forehead, brown eyes blazing with fury. Who was this brat that dared to smack his handsome face with the door? Doesn't he realize who he is?! Oh. Of course. He doesn't have that sagging old body anymore.
"Are you alright?" Sapphire blue eyes sparkled at him in concern and hidden amusement. How dare this man laugh at the Dark Lord so?!
Voldemort dusted himself with one hand before standing to his new, full height to sneer down at the lowly being . . . only to find himself locked into the face of the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Long, golden blond hair tied in complicated knots at her brow spilled over her shoulders, highlighted a delicate face with high cheekbones. Apologetic eyes gazed back at him from behind two lumpy packages that failed to hide the woman's slender, lithe body.
Voldemort decided then that Pettigrew definitely would get that second silver hand he asked for.
CC – So sorry for the delay. But hey, long chappie. Pairing is still undecided as of yet so . . . suggestions?
And I love the lyrics!! Sounds like Harry's talking about Voldie!! Heh!! Or Voldie about L'las.
Review? Dare I ask of ye?