Harry Potter and the Unexpected Inheritance

Chapter 5

The Celebration

Professor McGonagall called him after Transfiguration class.

"Yes, Ma'am," said Harry. Every time she's done this in the past, it had caused Harry weeks of hardship.

"Sit down, Harry," said McGonagall.

Harry? Now Harry was scared. McGonagall never called him Harry.

Harry sat down.

"I've noticed your Transfiguration skills have grown considerably."

Harry dropped his gaze. "I'm sorry," he said automatically.

Silence settled between them. Harry could have screamed. He dared a glance up at Professor McGonagall and saw her looking back with a look of - pity.

Harry wouldn't take that. It wasn't his fault that Voldemort kept giving him power.

Harry stood up. "There nothing I can do about it, Professor. I'll go now."

"Sit down, Potter!" said McGonagall.

Harry sat down. He still didn't look her in the eye. What have I done now? What's happened?

"I was wondering," said McGonagall. "Well considering your father and your godfather."

Harry looked up, totally baffled now.

"I wondered if you gave any consideration to becoming an Animangus."

Harry stood up. "What?" He stared at her. "Me?"

"Yes, you, Potter," said McGonagall. "You have the talent and the blood."

"You think I can do that?" said Harry aghast.

He stared at her and once again her expression changed to one of cool sympathy. As if she expected him to react the way he had.

"Yes, Potter. I think you can," said McGonagall. "It would mean private lessons with me but I don't think it would take as long as it took your father or Sirius, who did it in secret. You already have quite a bit more magical talent than Sirius."

"Professor," said Harry, slowly sitting back down. "This is such a wonderful offer. I don't know what to say."

McGonagall smiled at him. "Say yes, Potter," said McGonagall. "And start thinking of an animal."

"Yes!" Harry practically shouted. McGonagall looked pleased. Then Harry frowned. Animal? "What do you think?" he asked her.

"For an animal?" said McGonagall. Harry nodded and she studied him. "Well, small animals are easy enough but for you, especially with your love of flying, I'd go with a bird."

"A bird," echoed Harry with awe, his mind racing with excitement.

"Yes," said McGonagall. "In your case, with your build and your talent," she paused to study him. "You could probably master a falcon, a hawk or an eagle."

Harry blinked at her.

"Think about it, Potter," said McGonagall. "Run along now."

Harry raced out of the classroom nearly bursting with excitement. McGonagall had asked him. She had brought it up. Harry had never even thought about it. A bird. How great would that be? Probably better than racing around on his Firebolt.

He couldn't wait to tell Ron and Hermione. What would Sirius say? Voldemort would be so pleas-

Harry stopped dead. I didn't just think that! I didn't.

But he had. And Harry knew that it would indeed please Voldemort. But Harry wasn't trying to please him, was he?

NO!!!!

Work hard and you will be rewarded.

You have accepted my powers. You will accept my patrimony.

"I won't," Harry told himself as he continued toward the dungeons.

The master's favorite pet.

Somehow Harry preferred that angle to the roll Voldemort was trying to manipulated Harry into presently.

Maybe that was a defense Harry could use. Go back to being the favorite pet. Harry could do that. At least he could try.

"You're late, Potter."

Harry looked up at Snape as he entered the potions dungeon.

"Sorry, Professor," said Harry. "Professor McGonagall needed to speak to me."

"I can find out if you're lying, you know," said Snape.

"Why would I lie when-" Harry cut himself off. Stop it Harry! He chastised himself. "I know, Sir," said Harry.

Harry sat down next to Ron. Ron sent him an interested glance.

"How's it feel to be burned at the stake, Harry?"

Harry looked up at the Slytherin side of the dungeon. It had been Pansy who threw out the question. No one but Malfoy had said a word about the execution. Harry glanced at Malfoy who was staring at Pansy with disbelief. What? It was ok for Malfoy to ask, but no one else should dare? Harry almost laughed.

Hermione leapt to her feet. "How's it feel to be a total-"

"Miss Granger," warned Snape.

Harry looked at Pansy with a blank expression. "It was hot," said Harry.

Pansy looked stricken and turned red.

Snape gave them their assignment.

Harry wasn't even sure what potion he and Ron were working on. His thoughts redirected again toward Voldemort. Damned Slytherins. Maybe it was more of Voldemort's manipulation. Maybe Voldemort had decided to use his Slytherin minions to constantly keep Harry thinking about him.

But McGonagall wasn't Slytherin and she certainly didn't want to please-

Whatever Harry dropped into his cauldron was not supposed to be added.

Harry pulled his hand away as his cauldron exploded and both he and Ron ducked as it sent sparks up into the air.

Snape came over to glare down at Harry. Harry hid his right hand in his left. When he had dropped whatever it was into the cauldron and the potion had erupted, it had burned Harry's palm.

"I'm sorry, Professor," said Harry.

"Detention, Potter," said Snape. He reached out and grabbed Harry's robe, dragging him outside the dungeon.

Great, thought Harry.

Once in the hall, Snape took hold of Harry's right wrist and held it up exposing Harry's burnt hand.
"How-"

"I've seen that happen before, Harry," said Snape. "But usually the student is screaming in pain."

Harry looked at his hand, still in Snape's grip. It did look like a rather nasty burn but he shrugged. "Doesn't hurt that much," said Harry.

Snape stared at him and let go of his wrist. "Hospital wing, Potter," said Snape.

Harry nodded but then pain erupted in Harry's scar. Harry's hand - the injured one - hit his scar and pain erupted in his palm too.

"Great," muttered Harry, shaking his hand out.

"Give me your hand," said Snape.

Harry held out his hand and Snape bandaged it with his wand.

Voldemort signaled again.

"Go, Harry," said Snape.

Harry nodded. The nightmare!

Voldemort was in his chair by the fire so Harry had to step back.

"Ah, Harry." Voldemort paused when he saw Harry's bandaged hand pressed to his forehead. "What happened?"

Harry was going to blame Voldemort's signal but decided against it. Voldemort could always tell when Harry was lying.

"I threw the wrong ingredient into my potion and it exploded," said Harry.

"Harry," said Voldemort, "you weren't paying attention in Severus' class? I'm disappointed."

Harry put his plan into effect immediately. Time to see if he was any good as his own brand of manipulation. He stepped back and dropped his gaze. "But I got some news that would please you. I was too excited to think."

Voldemort stood up. "Oh? Tell me."

Harry told him what Professor McGonagall had said as Voldemort paced across the fire from Harry.

"It does please me, Harry," said Voldemort. "Is this why you've not written me this week? Because you wanted to tell me yourself?"

Harry jumped on the excuse. He had, in fact, forgotten to write. "Yes," said Harry.

"That pleases me too, my pet," said Voldemort.

Yes! Good! He used that word. Harry lowered his gaze to the ground again.

"And what does Sirius have to say?"

"I just found out," said Harry. "I-I haven't told Sirius yet."

Voldemort stopped pacing and turned to Harry. Harry didn't look up but could feel those eyes on him.

"You are the only one I've told so far," said Harry, which was the truth because he hadn't gotten to Ron and Hermione yet.

Voldemort laughed.

Harry cast a glance at him. This could work. "I have pleased you." Harry swallowed. "Master."

"Oh, yes," said Voldemort. "Yes, ind-" Voldemort cut himself off and looked back at Harry. "Harry?"

"Yes?"

"Look at me," said Voldemort.

Harry glanced up at him.

"What are you doing, Harry?" said Voldemort.

"Master," said Lucius Malfoy, stepping up to them.

"What is it, Lucius?" said Voldemort, his eyes still on Harry, who was still looking at the ground.

Harry took two steps away.

"Where are you going, Harry?" snapped Voldemort.

"I was just giving you and Mr. Malfoy privacy," said Harry.

"Did I ask you too?" snapped Voldemort again.

He was getting annoyed. Harry didn't care. "No, master" said Harry. "I'm sorry." Harry stepped back to where he had been standing, eyes still on the ground.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Lucius Malfoy's incredulous look, then Lucius smiled with great smug satisfaction.

"So, you've tamed your pet, My Lord," said Malfoy.

Harry could have hugged Malfoy. Harry had done it. He was back to pet status.

Voldemort's hand came around Harry's chin so fast, Harry gasped and hit his knees.

"That's what you're doing, isn't it, Harry?" said Voldemort, searching Harry's eyes. "You refuse to accept what I offer you so you're using that to harden yourself against me."

"If you say so," said Harry.

Voldemort studied him. "Oh, but I do say so." He released Harry's face. "Get up, Harry."

Harry pushed to his feet, still looking at the ground.

"Look at me," demanded Voldemort.

Harry wiped all expression off his face and looked up at Voldemort.

Voldemort's expression was livid.

"I have displeased you," said Harry. He dropped his gaze again. "I'm sorry." Harry hoped it came out as dispassionately as he intended.

"You're sorry," said Voldemort. "Should I punish you, Harry?"

"If it pleases you."

Voldemort grabbed Harry's face again, putting him to his knees. Harry had never seen Voldemort quite so angry. Harry didn't care. This was just what he needed - a reminder of who Voldemort was.

Voldemort let go of Harry's face. "Lucius, lash him."

"Master?" said Lucius hesitantly.

Voldemort stared at Harry. "I said lash him. NOW. I will hold him if I have too."

But Harry vowed Voldemort wouldn't have to. Harry was ready. This would remind Harry of all Voldemort's manipulations. He balled his fists and closed his eyes tight as the lash hit him again and again across his back.

"Harry, look at me!" demanded Voldemort.

Harry looked up. Voldemort had lowered to one knee in front of Harry and was studying him closely. Harry flinched with each flick of Lucius' wand but tried to keep that dead passionless feeling on his expression. Harry couldn't tell what Voldemort was looking for but when Harry thought he was at the end of his endurance, Voldemort told Lucius to stop.

Harry reached out and grabbed Voldemort's arm. He squeezed his eyes tight for a minute against the pain of his back and the pain of touching Voldemort then looked up into those red slits. Voldemort looked down at Harry's hands, clutching his arm then met his gaze again.

Harry let go of the feelings he had been concealing. "I have accepted your protection," said Harry. "I have accepted our connection. I have accepted your power and I accept your punishment."

Voldemort looked staggered.

"I will not accept your patrimony." Harry swallowed hard. "I don't know first hand, but I'm pretty sure that isn't included in the job description."

Now Voldemort looked horrified.

Harry let go of him and fell to the ground.

"Call Rowan, Harry," said Voldemort. "Call her," he pleaded sounding desperate.

How Harry would have loved to say, 'Are you begging,' but Harry feigned unconsciousness.

"What have I done?" whispered Voldemort.

Harry's entire body was screaming in pain but Harry felt like smiling. Harry had won this round.

*******

Harry woke up to a stab of pain on his back. He was laid out on his stomach on his bed in his tent, his head cradled on his arms.

After a gasp of pain, he heard Snape's voice.

"So, what did you do this time?"

"Don't sound so smug, Professor," said Harry. "I did what I was told."

"Really?" said Snape.

"Ouch," said Harry. It felt as if Snape's wand burning his skin back together.

"Call your phoenix, Harry," said Snape. "Some of these are deep."

"No," said Harry.

"Why not? She could heal you in seconds and I'm not that skilled at this particular sort of healing," said Snape. "As the scars on your back from the last time can attest."

"Scars I can deal with," said Harry. "Just do what you can."

"Stubborn."

"Professor," said Harry. "I was perfectly respectful. I did everything he told me to do. I even called him master and he punished me." Harry sighed. "I intend to remember it."

Harry gasped again as Snape's wand moved to another slash on his back.

"Do you think he got my point?" said Harry.

"Oh I think he did," said Snape. "If not, he does now."

"Why," said Harry. "Is he here?"

"You can't feel him?"

Harry picked up his head and turned it to rest his head on the other side and saw Voldemort sitting in a chair across the room. He was staring at Harry with a look of - well regret. Harry almost laughed but Snape had moved his wand again.

Harry flinched and closed his eyes.

"Call Rowan, Harry," said Voldemort.

"No," said Harry.

"Stubborn."

Harry opened his eyes and looked at Voldemort. "You've punished me before, seen me in greater pain than this. Deal with it."

"But you forced me to do that to you," said Voldemort.

"Did I?" said Harry vaguely.

"You know you did," said Voldemort.

"I guess you taught me manipulation quite well then too," said Harry.

"I'm not amused, Harry," said Voldemort.

"Am I laughing?" said Harry.

Harry flinched again and closed his eyes, this time back into unconsciousness.

He woke to Voldemort's voice.

"You didn't do a very good job, Severus," said Voldemort.

"I told you to take him to Hogwarts," said Snape. "Madame Pomfrey-"

"You know I want him here presently," said Voldemort. "And I wanted to hear his explanation."

"And you've heard it," said Snape. "I know you don't like it."

"No, I do not," said Voldemort. Harry felt him move into the flinch zone.

"Then adjust his memory."

"Oh, no, Severus," said Voldemort. "Harry is fighting, which is his right and is admirable. But he will accept me."

"You are obsessing, Master," said Snape.

"I'm determined, Severus," said Voldemort. "James Potter fought me as well but there is as much of me in this boy as there is of his parents. I gave him all of it - some by accident, some by choice. My plans have not altered because of his stubbornness."

"So what will you do?"

"The first part has been initiated," said Voldemort. "The second is up to him."

Harry felt the pain increase as if Voldemort was reaching toward his face.

"I had to kill James," said Voldemort softly. "I can not kill his son but I will have him. He pleases me very much. Everything is going according to my design. Harry will call me father and mean it."

Harry screamed as he felt Voldemort's knuckles on his cheek. Recoiling, Harry fell off the bed onto his back. He screamed again and rolled to his side, breathing hard.

"Call Rowan, Harry," said Voldemort.

Harry said nothing, puzzling over what he'd heard. He pulled himself to his feet and picked up his shirt, which was shredded. He repaired it on the way to the bathroom where he struggled into it. What was Voldemort's plan now? Harry wished he could keep up.

He splashed his face with cold water. When he returned to the bedroom, Snape and Voldemort were still there.

"So are you finished with me?" Harry asked Voldemort.

Voldemort stared into Harry's face. "No, Harry. I am not." Voldemort turned and moved towards the door.

"But-"

"Harry," said Voldemort, turning back. "I called you and you came to me as our contract states you must and you know you can not leave me until I say you may leave. And it pleases me that you will stay with me for the weekend."

"But-" said Harry, again.

"And I know how you wish to please me."

Voldemort smiled a sort of odd smile and left.

"What's he up to now," said Harry aloud.

"I don't know," said Snape. "But be on your guard. I've seen that smile before and I usually don't like what happens after it."

Great.

Harry left his tent at dinner time after 2 painful hours of boredom. He couldn't sit and lean back, so he tried to nap but couldn't. He tried a hot bath but that didn't help much. He even considered calling Rowan but didn't want to give Voldemort the satisfaction.

"You are stubborn, Harry," he told himself.

One glance around the camp showed massive activity, as if the Death Eaters were gearing up for something.

"What's going on?" Harry asked Snape when he had located him.

"Oh this is just a little celebration," said Snape.

"Why?"

"I'm forbidden to tell you, Harry," said Snape. "I'm sorry. You'll have to ask Voldemort."

Which Harry would not do. Harry got himself a plate of food and went to the fire. He sat down on the edge of his chair, picking at his food.

A robed figure stopped before him and Harry looked up. The woman looked ghostly pale and skeletally thin. Harry put down his plate and stood up.

"Can I help you?" said Harry.

"Harry Potter?" said the woman.

"Um, yes," said Harry curiously.

Her palm hit Harry's cheek so hard he staggered back and fell into the chair. His back hit the back of it and Harry screamed and fell forward onto his knees at the woman's feet.

"So the master is torturing you," said the woman. "Good."

She walked away and Harry struggled to his feet, leaning on his chair. He looked across the compound and saw Voldemort looking back.

Harry felt someone take his arm to help him straighten up.

"Who was that?" said Harry.

"I can't tell you," said Snape. "All your questions must be directed to him."

"That is his protection?" said Harry.

"If you wish retribution, complain to him," said Snape.

Which Harry wouldn't do. He looked at his plate but had lost his appetite. He moved to the map tarp and looked around for something to do. He found a map of the camp and looked at, pretending not to notice all the activity.

A huge tarp was erected with scores of tables pushed together to make one long one. It seemed as if every Death Eater and their families had shown up for this particular celebration.

Harry wanted no part of it although his curiosity was nagging him. No one bothered him although he knew Voldemort was watching him. He picked up the map again. It seemed that someone was trying to map of the camp similarly to the way the Marauder's Map was made but wasn't doing a very good job. Wormtail.

His father had managed to make it work. Maybe Harry could. Gave him something to do, if nothing else. He moved with the parchment to his tent, expecting Voldemort to signal. When he didn't, Harry looked across the compound.

Voldemort was in deep conversation with the Malfoys.

Harry worked on the map, which detracted his attention from the pain and from the noise out side his tent, which went on for hours. Harry was surprised when, with the help of several spell books, he was able to get several dots to appear on the map. They weren't labeled but they moved.

The chatter, the laughing and occasionally music went on. Voldemort didn't signal once. It was almost as if Harry wasn't invited. Was this part of Voldemort's plan? Was he playing up the neglect scenario again? Harry had no desire to celebrate with the Death Eaters but why wasn't Voldemort forcing him too?

Harry sighed and glanced at his watch, which hadn't been damaged other than the band. 12:30. He couldn't concentrate on the map anymore. The pain was back and now he had a headache from trying to figure out what Voldemort was up to.

Harry tapped the watch with his finger. "What should I be doing?"

You should be peacefully sleeping at Hogwarts, not being forced to listen to a party in great pain, flashed the watch.

He tapped it again. "Commentary."

Mr. Padfoot thinks Harry should call Rowan.

Mr. Moony agrees with Mr. Padfoot.

Mr. Wormtail thinks Master Harry should stop fighting the master and call his phoenix.

"Come on Dad," said Harry, staring at the watch.

Mr. Prongs thinks his son is indeed stubborn and should call his phoenix.

Harry looked to the door of his tent. As he called Rowan, Severus Snape entered.

"Pain too much?" said Snape.

"Just too annoying," said Harry. "What is it?"

"Too many visitors," said Snape. "You are being temporarily relocated. This tent is needed."

"He could send me back to school," said Harry.

"He doesn't want to," said Snape. "Come along."

Harry put the map and several papers in his desk and locked it. "Where-"

Rowan soared in and landed on Harry's arm. After she finished yelling at him, via song, she leaned on his shoulder and let her tears fall down his back.

"Thanks, Girl," said Harry.

Harry moved with Snape through the camp, Rowan perched on his arm, her head against his chest.

Snape stopped at a tent.

"That's Voldemort's tent," said Harry.

"Yes."

"I'm not staying in there."

"He ordered it, Harry. You have to," said Snape. "I doubt you'll see him tonight anyway. There are too many visitors and he has to address the Dementors."

"The Dementors?" said Harry with dawning. "The Dementors?" he said again with horror. "Azkaban. He's broken open Azkaban."

Harry flinched, not needing to turn around to know why.

"Yes, Harry," said Voldemort.

Harry turned to him. "That was Mrs. Lestrange, wasn't it? Who hit me?"

"Yes, Harry," said Voldemort.

She blamed Harry for their 15 years in that Hell. No wonder she was glad Harry was being tortured.

"You didn't want me here because of them, did you?" said Harry.

"Oh, but I did want you here, Harry," said Voldemort. "It was one of the reasons I called you. This celebration was not only for the Lestrange's but for you."

"Why?" said Harry.

"All my Death Eaters must acknowledge you. Despite your clever little manipulation, you need to be here with me, even if I decided that you didn't have to attend the celebration if you didn't wish to."

"Why?" said Harry, growing even more confused.

"You stubbornly refused to call Rowan," said Voldemort. "I would not force you to sit and endure the pain."

Harry was getting another headache. "No, why do the Death Eaters have to acknowledge me."

"You know why, Harry," said Voldemort. "They have accepted it even if you haven't."

Harry was almost shaking with frustration. Was nothing of his life under his control.

Voldemort studied him a minute then turned to Rowan. He reached out and stroked her. "I'm glad you called her, Harry. It was a rare gift for my guests."

"Meaning?" said Harry.

"A phoenix flying its hardest is a spectacular sight to behold, Harry," said Voldemort. "It glows with its internal flame. Quite magnificent."

Rowan fluttered her wings importantly.

"There aren't any Dementors here are there?" said Harry.

Voldemort turned his attention from Rowan to Harry. "No, Harry. They are deep in the forest. I won't let them near you."

Harry almost said thank you. He nodded.

Voldemort held a hand under Harry's face, not touching but forcing Harry to look at him.

"You are under my protection," said Voldemort.

"You didn't stop Mrs. Lestrange-"

"Do you wish me to do something about that, Harry?"

Run to Voldemort. "I can take care of myself," grumbled Harry.

Voldemort nudged Harry's chin so Harry would meet his gaze. "Really?" said Voldemort. "It appears to me that you can just take it."

Something about that statement really bothered Harry. "Well since most of it comes from you, it's a wonder I'm still alive."

Voldemort frowned at him. "Harry, you are being stubborn and difficult. Now that you are healed, perhaps you'd like to join the festivities. It may cheer you up."

Harry pulled his face away from Voldemort's hand and looked away. Voldemort was doing it again. "Will you make me?" said Harry.

"No, Harry."

"Will you beg me?" said Harry, hoping to get something out of Voldemort.

That got the chuckle. "If you would like me to," said Voldemort. "But I don't think you would like what I would say to you in front of all my Death Eaters."

Harry was afraid that was probably true. Speechless, Harry turned away. "I'm leaving, Voldemort," said Harry.

"You won't," said Voldemort.

Harry turned back. "I will."

"You won't defy me, Harry," said Voldemort. "You are bound by the contract. I know your sense of honor. You won't leave me until I say you can."

Harry was all ready angry, now he was frustrated too because he knew Voldemort was right. Harry watched Voldemort turn and start walking away.

"Voldemort," said Harry. "I-"

Crucio!

Harry hit the ground on his hands and knees. He looked up. Voldemort had not thrown the curse. Not that it did anything but throw Harry off his feet and startle Rowan.

Voldemort turned toward the tables. Harry hadn't realized that everyone had been watching.

"Who did that?" said Voldemort in a quiet, deadly tone.

A wizard stood up. "Why do you take that boys lip, Master?" said the man, looking highly confused.

Voldemort sighed. "I will tell you only once, Andrew. No one touches this boy but me. NO ONE," said Voldemort. "He is mine to deal with."

Harry got to his feet, his anger growing. He didn't have to take it from the Death Eaters and he was strong enough to prove it. He raised his hand toward the man.

"No, Harry," said Voldemort. "That is Andrew Lestrange."

"So," said Harry. "I didn't put him in Azkaban." He still held his arm out toward the man and his eyes were locked in Lestrange, who looked a bit disconcerted now.

"Who did?" said Voldemort.

"He did," said Harry.

"Very good, Harry," said Voldemort. "Why?"

"I'm in no mood for your tests, Voldemort," said Harry.

"Answer correctly, Harry, and I will allow you to go back to Hogwarts."

Harry turned his attention back to Voldemort. The thought of leaving was more appealing than hitting Andrew Lestrange with a curse.

"Choices," said Harry.

Voldemort moved toward Harry, through the flinch zone and he grabbed Harry's face. The second Harry hit his knees, Rowan flew from the tent, where she had moved to when Harry was thrown to the ground, to his shoulder. Harry felt no pain because of Rowan's tears but Voldemort didn't let go of him.

"That is right, Harry," said Voldemort. "But remember, your attempt at manipulation changed nothing and now the whole wizarding world knows it."

"What do you mean?" said Harry.

Voldemort shook his head. "You will find out, Harry."

"I'm asking you, Voldemort," said Harry. Voldemort let go and Harry stood up. Voldemort was walking away.

All you have to do is ask.

"Voldemort, tell me," said Harry. "I asked you."

"Will you beg me?" said Voldemort.

Voldemort knew that would shut Harry up. So much for Malfoy's theory. "So can I leave now?" said Harry.

"Yes, Harry," said Voldemort with a dismissive wave. "You may go."

Harry sent Rowan off then with a nightmarish thought, apparated back to the Gryffindor common room.

As quietly as he could, Harry went up to the dormitory and got changed.

"Harry, is that you?" said Neville.

"Yeah," said Harry softly. "I'm sorry I woke you. Go back to sleep."

"I wasn't sleeping," said Neville. "Where have you been?"

"I got lost in Hell," said Harry automatically.

"Why do you keep going back then?"

Harry didn't really feel like explaining but he wasn't all that tired. He guessed Neville had endured his own sort of pain due to Voldemort tearing apart his family. Neville deserved an answer.

"I'm bound to a wizards contract," said Harry. "Like the Triwizard Tournament. I have to go every time he signals."

"He can signal you?" said Neville.

Harry sat down on the end of Neville's bed and told him.

"What's Voldemort like?" said Neville.

Harry opened his mouth but then saw how serious Neville looked. Then Harry realized that Neville had said Voldemort's name. It was no more than a whisper, but he had said it.

Harry thought for a moment. "Well," said Harry. "He's definitely brilliant. His mind works so quickly that it's amazing. He always seems one step ahead of everyone else. As if he already planned the outcome.

"He's very demanding. You do what he says, when he says it and you better do it to his satisfaction."

"Sounds like my grandmother," muttered Neville.

"Don't say that, Neville," said Harry softly. "She doesn't torture you if you make a mistake, does she."

Neville shuddered and Harry wished he could take the words back.

"No," said Neville just as softly. "What's it like? Being tortured?"

Harry almost answered flippantly but again thought Neville deserved an honest answer.

"He's tortured you, hasn't he, Harry?" said Neville.

Harry sighed. "Yes, Neville. He has."

"What's it like?"

"It's very hard to explain," said Harry. "Pain comes in different degrees and it depends on how each person can deal with it before the body shuts down-"

"Or goes mad," said Neville.

Since Harry knew that Neville's parents were both tortured to madness by the Death Eaters, he knew he had to tread carefully.

"I guess," said Harry. "But I would say that if a person is driven to madness then they'd have to have the strongest, bravest type of character there is."

"Why?" said Neville.

"Well, if they were being tortured just for the sake of being tortured, then it would end because being mad wouldn't cause the torturer any satisfaction. But if they were being tortured for information, then that person would know that that information must not get out. That person would be sacrificing themselves for the good of others by going mad rather than shutting down and getting tortured again. It protects that information forever."

Neville looked at Harry as if he had just given him a very expensive Christmas present.

"You know about my parents, don't you, Harry?" said Neville.

Harry nodded. "I'm sorry, Neville. I found out by accident. I never told anyone."

"It's all right," said Neville. "I don't mind that you know, after everything that you've been through." Neville looked at Harry very directly. "Do you believe everything you just said?"

"Yes, Neville," said Harry. "I truly do. Your parents were strong self sacrificing and incredibly brave. You should be very proud of them."

"I am," said Neville. Then his expression turned so sad. "They wouldn't be proud of me."

"Don't say that Neville," said Harry. "Of course they'd be proud of you. You are their son. They are a part of you. They'll come out from inside you when you need them. Take my word for it."

Neville managed a weak smile. "Thanks, Harry."

Harry stood up and moved to his bed. "Good night, Neville."