Heritage

14

"Loki," Voldemort greeted. "Doing well, I presume?"

Harry took a deep breath. The "doing well" was not about his health. At all. It was about the mission.

The mission that Harry, conveniently, forgot to tell the Potters about. 

Ya, right, His mind jeered, You forgot. Just like you forgot to turn the stove off at Runnan's. And you conveniently started the house fire that killed him.

Harry blocked his thought. Now was really, really not the time to think about that.

"I have some information for you." He tacked on a "My lord." when he saw the Inner Circle of the Dark Lord's Death Eaters glaring at him.

Harry was nervous. Very nervous. Too nervous. 

And just a pinch scared. (Not that you can blame him. The D.E. are scary and have been known to make a grown man wet his pants)

Harry didn't know why he was nervous. (Yes, you do, his mind whispered, You don't want to be placed in the Cruciatus Curse.) 

Harry would rather not be crucio-ed. It felt like walking through and back again from hell and then Satan himself tortures you for surviving it. It's not fun. At all.

Luna had suggested casting the Imperious Curse while in the company of Voldemort, but Harry had quickly shut down that idea. While it would help in keeping the pain to the minimum, it would make him too foggy to think. And he needed to think in case things went south.

Which would likely happen. 

"Loki," Voldemort hissed, to get his attention. Fuck, he was getting out of shape. Losing concentration in front of a  literal Dark Lord. "Do you have the Potters or not?" His voice seemed to get really hissy at the end, like that of a snake.

Voldemort was angry.

So,  Harry quickly slid the papers that Ironwood had given him, over to Fenrir Greyback, who sat two (empty) seats away.

"No," Harry said, sighing, "But, I do have some information."

"And, pray, tell me, what may this information be?" Voldemort asked, calmly. Too calmly. The angry type of calmy. Then you-will-get-crucio-ed-right-about-now-type of calmly..

"I-" Harry hadn't finished the sentence, before a red spell hit his chest, making him slump over in his chair screaming. 

"Stop it. Stop the curse, Tom.  TOM," Fenrir Greyback's rough voice said after what felt like an eternity.

Harry sighed in relief, taking a big, shuddering breath, once the curse had been removed at last. 

"What the actual fuck?" Harry heard Voldemort say. But his voice sounded more human, less raspy and hissy and more clearer.

Harry slowly got up, using the chair as a support.

"What is it, M'lord?" Bellatrix asked.

"Leave. Everyone." Fenrir Greyback growled.

Harry hesitantly stepped back, wincing in pain before turning around taking a step and -

"Loki," Voldemort called out, "What is all this? Where did you get it?"

 Harry turned around. "By asking Lily Potter-Evans to go to Gringotts."

"How did she trust you enough to go?" Voldemort interrogated, "You were a new Order member."

"I never said I would go as a order member," Harry replied, grinning slightly. He tugged back his hood, and took off the Glamour, and in Loki's place now stood Hadrian Potter-Evans.

"Aliya's eyes," Fenrir Greyback breathed. "Wait," his eyes widened, "Your Hadrian Potter-Evans, aren't you?"

"Never said I wasn't," Harry replied.

"But...." Human Voldemort looked rather cute when he was in denial. Like a lost puppy, Harry decided. (THIS IS NOT THE SHIP. I REPEAT, THIS IS NOT THE SHIP). "It doesn't change anything," He declared at long last. "They are still the enemy."

"The will switch sides, or at least stay neutral." Harry said monotonously.

Voldemort's eyes gleamed.