Harry Potter and the Slytherin Connection

Chapter 18

Rowan

"I did?" said Harry.

Voldemort looked at the books strewn about the desk. "You did. Twice."

"How?" said Harry.

"That's what I'd like to know," said Voldemort.

"Is the meeting over?" said Harry, looking at Severus who had entered with Voldemort.

"No, Harry," said Voldemort approaching Harry's desk a peering down at it. "This is more important."

"Why?"

"Because I want to know how you called me," said Voldemort. "I heard you call my name."

Harry didn't like the sound of that. Voldemort was looking so thrilled that Harry felt a chill go down his spine.

"What were you doing just now?" said Severus.

Harry turned to him. "What? Oh, I was frustrated because I couldn't find what I was looking for."

"Were you touching your scar?" said Severus.

"Um, well maybe," said Harry. "I was staring down at the book with my head leaning on my hand."

"And what were you thinking?" said Severus.

Harry glanced at Voldemort then back at Severus. "That Voldemort would know." He sent another hesitant look at Voldemort who looked so pleased that Harry's stomach clenched up. "That he would tell me, but he was in the meeting..."

"Do it again, Harry," said Voldemort eagerly.

Harry was afraid to try, seeing how pleased Voldemort looked. "I don't know if I can."

"Try," said Voldemort. As if seeing Harry's nervousness, he added, "We will call this your second test. I will only give you three."

Harry sighed. Elbows on the desk, he rested his head on his hands, as he had done earlier, his right palm over his scar. Voldemort can tell me, thought Harry.

Voldemort starting laughing with delight.

Harry looked up with alarm. "What did you hear?"

"Just you saying my name," said Voldemort.

While Harry was happy that Voldemort couldn't actually hear his thoughts, it still disconcerted him that Voldemort could here him call.

Voldemort reached across the desk and gently grasped Harry's face. Harry's gaze locked in those red slits. "The bond grows ever stronger," said Voldemort. He released his chin and turned to Severus. "Come, we will finish the meeting." Then he turned back to Harry. "I will return after to answer your questions, Harry. You have made me quite proud. Your last test will be tomorrow and then you can return to your friends."

Harry watched him sweep out of the tent and foreboding swept over him. Harry could call him now. Harry didn't like it. The bond grows ever stronger.

Harry shook it off. Turning back to his books, he determinedly searched them so he wouldn't have to ask Voldemort. But he still couldn't find his answers. When Voldemort re-entered the tent, Harry was frustrated again.

Voldemort settled in a chair in front of the desk, just outside the flinch zone. "So what is the problem?"

Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I can't seem to find out what the Order of The Phoenix is."

Voldemort appeared interested. "Why would you want to know?"

Harry stood up and began to pace, not liking the way Voldemort was looking at him. "Well I was told it isn't normal for a phoenix to fly in your window, burst into flames and then tell you she's yours."

"Who has this happened to?" said Voldemort. Harry didn't look at him, but he could tell Voldemort was watching him.

"Me," said Harry. "Over the Christmas break."

Voldemort sat up. "A phoenix has adopted you?"

He sounded so surprised, Harry turned to look at him. "Yes."

"Then why isn't it here?"

Harry blinked. "Should she be here?"

"Of course," said Voldemort. "If she picked you, she would want to be where ever you are. In all likelihood, she is probably searching for you."

Harry stared at him.

"Call her and she will find you," said Voldemort.

"Call her?" said Harry. "How?"

"Just call her."

Harry looked at Voldemort skeptically and he chuckled. Harry turned to the tent door. "Rowan," called Harry. He looked back at Voldemort. He chuckled again but within a matter of moments, Rowan swooped into the tent.

Harry held out his arm astonished as Rowan landed on it and began to berate him in song.

"She's mad at me," said Harry.

"Of course she is," said Voldemort. "You are hers the same as she is yours. She would be most annoyed that she didn't know where you were."

Harry looked with surprise at Rowan. She had grown some and her plumage had darkened to a brilliant sapphire with black and silver highlights.

When Rowan finished yelling at him, she nestled her face into his neck beneath his ear. Harry stroked her and turned to Voldemort. "So what is this Order then?" said Harry.

"What did Sirius tell you when you got her?" said Voldemort.

Harry wasn't sure he liked talking about Sirius with Voldemort, but he want to know what the Order was. "Sirius said it belonged to me. Remus said it was weird. But when I asked why, Sirius told Remus to keep his mouth shut."

Voldemort laughed over that one. "Have any other phoenix' given you special attention?" said Voldemort.

"Well Fawkes usually likes me," said Harry. "He's the only other phoenix I know. He's the one who gave the feathers for our wands."

"Ah, Albus' bird," said Voldemort, standing up. He was watching Rowan curiously as she cuddled under Harry's chin. "Usually?" said Voldemort.

"He attacked me after I came back from hiding," admitted Harry.

"What did he do?"

"Well he grabbed me and started crying on me," said Harry. "His tears hurt. Dumbledore said it was because of my guilt."

"Ah," said Voldemort. "Fawkes tried to cleanse you of your guilt." He stared hard at Harry. "I take it, it didn't work."

"No," said Harry, curious again. "Dumbledore said I was too strong."

"Indeed," said Voldemort, taking a step toward Harry and Rowan. "You would need a phoenix of your own to have any effect over such a deep rooted emotion."

"So you think, Dumbledore sent it to me."

"Oh no, Harry," said Voldemort. "Only a phoenix can choose." He reached out and stroked the bird. Rowan let him. "But you should let go of your guilt."

Harry looked at Voldemort. "How can I?"

"Because it isn't your fault."

"I saved Pettigrew," insisted Harry. "All this - you - is my fault."

"Harry," said Voldemort, taking hold of Harry's face. Harry sank to his knees and Rowan jumped onto his shoulder. "Didn't Albus tell you about choices?"

Harry nodded weakly. Rowan started crying and Harry's pain went away, even though Voldemort still held his face.

"You stopped Sirius and Remus from killing Wormtail," said Voldemort. "But they didn't have to let you." Harry blinked at him. Voldemort shook his head. "Harry, they are two grown men, intent on killing the man who betrayed your parents and their trust, yet they let you decide. They chose to give you the choice." Voldemort let go of him and stepped away. "A choice I wouldn't have given to a thirteen year boy, but they did it none the less. They are as responsible as you - more so if you ask me - for Wormtail returning to me."

Harry considered it as he leaned on the desk and pulled himself to his feet. Sirius could have just killed him as he had intended before Remus came in. They didn't have to give Harry the choice. But they did. Harry had been riddled with guilt now because they had given Harry the choice. Harry was angry suddenly. How could they do that to him?

Harry sat down and Rowan perched on the back of his chair. He returned his attention to the books laid open on the desk.

"Ah yes," said Voldemort. "But we have strayed from the subject. You wanted to know of the Order."

Harry looked up. Again interested. "Before when you touched me, Rowan started crying and the pain went away."

"She will not let you suffer, Harry," said Voldemort. "Which is why she was so angry that she couldn't find you."

"So will you tell me?" said Harry.

"Will you beg me, Harry?"

Harry dropped his head onto his hands with frustration. "Then get out," said Harry.

Voldemort chuckled and leaned over Harry's desk. "Do you want me to leave, Harry, or do you want to know?"

Harry looked up. "You know I want to know."

Voldemort stared down at him. "So tell me, Harry," said Voldemort. "What do you know so far?"

Why did Voldemort have to make things so hard? Sometimes it was like talking to Hermione.

"We belong to each other," said Harry. "She doesn't want me to suffer."

Voldemort returned to his chair and sat back down to Harry's relief. "What else?"

Harry wanted to throw something at him. Couldn't he just spit it out? Then Harry got it.

Fawkes was telling him to let go of his guilt. Rowan told him that he wouldn't feel the pain. And last year, the phoenix' song told Harry not to let go of his wand. They were ordering him.

Harry looked at Voldemort and he nodded as if he saw the moment Harry had gotten it.

"She can order me around?" said Harry.

"Not quite," said Voldemort. "She can guide your emotions to protect you. She can't tell you to jump off a bridge or anything like that."

"And me?" said Harry curiously.

"What have you read?" said Voldemort.

Harry thought hard, looking at Rowan. "Well all phoenix' can choose to heal anyone they like," Harry said. "And from what I've read, their song can calm even the most violent mob." Harry looked at Voldemort. "Are you saying I can order her to do these things for me?"

"Yes, Harry," said Voldemort. "Even if she doesn't like it, if you tell her too, she will do it."

Harry looked up at Rowan, on the back of his chair. "Is that true, girl? You would do those things for me?"

Her song told him that he was an idiot for doubting it and Harry laughed.

"There's more, Harry," said Voldemort.

Harry looked over from stroking Rowan. "What?"

"If that phoenix stays with you, then you have one life per cycle."

"What does that mean?" said Harry.

"It means, Harry," said Voldemort. "That you can save a life. If someone dies, even if you hate them, you can save them within one hour of their death."

"By ordering the phoenix?"

"Yes, Harry."

Harry was looking at Rowan as Voldemort got out of his chair and moved to leave.

"I take it I have satisfied your curiosity."

Harry was still lost in Rowan's golden eyes. "Yes, thanks," said Harry. Then he recalled something else. He glanced toward Voldemort who was walking away.

"Voldemort?" said Harry. He turned to him. "You didn't actually tell Malfoy to whip me, did you?"

Voldemort looked surprised. "Oh, no, my boy. And he has been severely chastised for that. I merely told him to be hard on you. Had I known his intentions were so harsh, I dare say, I would have given the task to some one else."

"What did you do?" said Harry curiously.

"Lucius was punished," said Voldemort simply. "And I had his son lashed in front of him." He gave Harry a strange sort of smile. "You may find some satisfaction in knowing that young Mr. Malfoy passed out after about 5 strokes, while I was told you endured well over 30."

Harry shrugged but he did feel a little smug about the knowledge. "By the way, what's the last test?"

Voldemort turned to the door. "The Killing Curse," he said and he left the tent.