Harry Potter and His Shadows

Chapter 3: Truth obscured

For three days Harry drifted in and out of restless sleep, nightmares of cruel Muggles and manipulating old men plaguing him. The few times he was awake, his shadows were usually there to comfort him, their cold misty grip calming him and cooling his fever. Other times there were dark silhouettes watching him, and he knew they were real, or his shadows wouldn't have hidden. He wasn't sure where he was, only that his dark protecters whispered in their language, of safety and acceptance. They understood best how to reassure him. On the fouth day Harry finally woke properly, and sat up to observe his surroundings. Smooth black silk sheets rested over his legs on a large dark wood bed, most likely mahogany. Thick black curtains blocked most of the light in the room, though a gap allowed in a ray of sun to illuminate the fancy gothic bureau, desk, and dressing table. Wherever he was, the people who owned this place were rich as fuck! The Malfoys? No, his Shadows wouldn't bring him to them, they'd kill without hesitation, too idiotic to recognise his magic for what it was. Closing his eyes he stretched out a thin tendril of magic along the halls of the house, getting a feel for the owner and its history. Endless dusty walls and mossy decay answered him, with a strong underlying darkness. It greeted him with a strange familiarity, and it took his sleep-addled brain a moment to understand. He was in Riddle Manor. They had taken him to THE DARK LORD! Horrified Harry jumped out of bed, summoning his wand and shadowing to the entrance hall. He sprinted to the door, but just as he reached the sound of echoing footsteps made him freeze. Slowly, he turned around to come face to face with the Inner circle and Voldemort.

Voldemort stood with his inner circle, having concluded their reports. He hadn't expect Harry Potter to be up and about yet, or looking so recovered. The boy was clearly spooked however, he'd run out of his room in noting but pyjama trousers. "Relax Potter, we aren't going to kill you. Just talk." The boy looked down at himself and his face flushed bright red. Harry hesitated and looked at Voldemort consideringly before a flicker in the shadows found the chosen one in comfortable black jeans, and a silk purple shirt. Still barefoot, Potter padded into the next room and curled in an armchair, annoyingly calm.

Harry wasn't sure how to act. If his shadows had brought him here, it must be safe, or at least the safest place for him at the moment. He looked back at Voldemort, and recieving a raised eyebrow, looked down at himself. He was half naked in front of death eaters! Hoping he wasn't blushing too much, he went to change his attire, before remembering he wasn't alone. Should he really use Shadow magic in front of them? Well, they were dark, and perhaps if they saw his abilities Voldemorts curiosity would keep him alive for at least a bit longer. They had healed him. Decision confirmed he reached through the Shadow Realm and picking an outfit, shadowed them on. Shadowing, Harry had discovered, was the darker version of Apparation, and more powerful. He travelled through the Shadow Realm, or could send objects through, to come out wherever there was a shadow, meaning he could go, or send something across the world in seconds. Much less disorienting as well. He padded over to the meeting room they'd just walked out of and claimed a comfortable looking armchair as his own. He blinked up owlishly at the death eaters and Voldemort, head still a little fuzzy from his fever. The inner circle and their lord walked in and took a seat, all leaning forward eager for answers. Or at least eager for death eaters.

Voldemort looked at the boy wondering how something like this could happen. How the boy who lived, Dumbledore's favourite, be the darkest of dark. There hadn't been a Shadow mage on centuries. "Well Potter? Care to explain why you arrived beaten and bruised in my meeting. And using Shadow magic at that." The boy was quiet for a while before looking up at them and sighing.

"I don't like Muggles. I've never met one worth knowing, all they do is hate and destroy anything they don't understand. A perfect example being my relatives. I could hardly call them family for everything they did to me. They've been beating me for my magic for as long as I can remember. They locked me away, in the dark. One day I was in their for a week, I was about four, but when I saw something moving I swore I was going crazy. I thought there was another person in their with me. And when it started speaking..... I decided crazy or not, I had nothing left to lose. So I started talking back. It told me about Shadow magic, how the light had persecuted my kind for years. I actually got the gift from my mother's side, she had always ignored them. Honestly I don't really care that you killed them anymore. They made a stupid mistake trusting Dumbledore. My mother would have died anyway from suppressing all that darkness. You did her a favour honestly. Death by Dark Magic overdose isn't a pleasant way to go." Harry was silent for a minute, and was surprised to see the genuine emotion in his potions proffessors face.

Severus was shocked to say the least. Why did Potter always have to be different? A shadow mage? He'd been worried when Harry had first appeared, how could he protect the boy surrounded by death eaters? The Shadow magic, however, was a game changer. Severus wasn't light, not in the slightest, the only reason he helped Dumbledore was to ensure his oath was fulfilled. Now, Harry may join the darkside yet, and Severus could answer his true calling once again. What he didn't understand was how Lily could have been a shadow mage. She'd never mentioned dark figures or voices. Then again, it usually manifests as a witch or wizard reaches their majority. Lily had stopped speaking to him by then.

Voldemort didn't understand how the woman could possibly have been a shadow mage. She'd been a mudblood! "It couldn't have been your mother Potter, mudbloods cannot be shadow mages. It's old family magic!" The boy rolled his eyes and glared at him, piercing green eyes reminding him of the night the Dark Lord had been vanquished. "Obviously! I'm not an idiot." He looked over at Severus' scoff, glaring at the spy for interrupting. "I'm not! You really think Dumbledore would be pleased if his little pet could think for himself. If I could I wouldn't sacrifice myself to save the stupid world!" Voldemort was puzzled. The boy didn't sound so endeared by the old coot. What was this about sacrificing himself. He raised an eyebrow expecting the boy to clarify.

Harry saw the eyebrow raise and decided to simply answer, not wanting to antagonise a curse happy Dark Lord. "My shadows tell me a lot of things, especially when Dumbledore is plotting. They're kind of protective if me, I suppose that's why they brought me here. Dumbledore doesn't plan on me surviving the fight with you." Harry sat up and looked at the death eaters warily. Perhaps if Voldemort knew what Harry was, he'd keep him alive. But he probably wouldn't want his minions to know. "After all, you can't die if all your horcruxes are still intact."

The boy was a Horcrux! It explained so much, their strange link so similar to his with Nagini. And the parceltongue, he'd always wondered about that. After all, the Potter's couldn't possibly be related to Salazar. Yes, his decision was made. Potter couldn't die. He would protect his Horcrux, and try to convince the boy onto his side. Not that it should be difficult, Shadows belonged with the dark. That's how it's always been.

Severus couldn't keep quiet anymore. "How was Lily a Shadow Mage? It doesn't make any sense!" He wilted under the Dark Lord's glare, and Potter weirdly wasn't happy about the interruption either. The teenager rolled his eyes before replying. "Well obviously she wasn't a Muggleborn. Surely you've heard of the Evans family. They supposedly died out a couple of hundred years ago, but they went into hiding when they discovered their magic. Most of them went insane or died, but some had children. Squibs." That made so much more sense. So Lily was a Half-blood. She'd had magical blood. He just wished she'd told him before he'd said that word. Merlin he missed her so much.

Voldemort had enough of Snape wallowing in his sadness, and had heard enough to understand Harry Potter a little more. What worried him was the abuse the boy had mentioned. No magical child deserves pain at the hand if filthy Muggles. Now Potter wasn't there, he may be able to get through the blood wards. Perhaps it was time for Lucius to visit the MIA (muggleraised information archives) department. Potters address must be there.