NOVEL NEXT Chapter 18: Chapter 18
Neville climbed and stood up on a large rock that rested in a peaceful clearing in the Forbidden Forest and surveyed all those who had gathered for the meeting. Snape had advised him that meetings at night and in the dungeons was too regular. Thus, he had decided to hold this meeting on a Friday afternoon.
"Everybody quiet down!" he called. Everyone silenced themselves and turned their attention from friends and surroundings to him. "This meeting of Potter's Legion is hereby called to order. The first order of business is the induction of a new member. We would like to welcome Professor Tura to our ranks." Neville gestured toward the Defense teacher who had joined at the back of the crowd.
Murmurs of surprise broke out as everyone turned and studied her. They had not expected a teacher to join, especially one that could be a spy. Neville had discussed the situation with Snape and Snape had agreed that Tura was probably a safe bet. "I assure you all that she is trustworthy." Neville said.
Fortunately, no one seemed inclined to object to her presence. It probably helped that most of them held her in high esteem. Her classes were always entertaining and she wasn't an unfriendly teacher.
"Next order of business is the latest from Harry." Neville said. "The Order of the Phoenix has decided not to acknowledge that anyone other than themselves did any real fighting at Hogsmeade. Harry thinks that it would be best if we allow them to think that."
"That's ridiculous!" called out a seventh-year Ravenclaw. "How can they just make that assumption?"
Neville shrugged. "They're good at thinking up ridiculous things. In their not so humble opinions, Harry was guilty as sin when they threw him into Azkaban. Anyway, Harry apologizes to those of you who deserve recognition but won't get it. At this point in time, it is best that we remain silent and unseen." The statement was followed by a small amount of murmuring that soon died down.
"That leads me to our next point." Neville continued. "Secrecy. There could be a lot of trouble for everyone here if our existence is discovered. If we are discovered, try your best to hide our connection with Harry. Do not go to Professor Snape for help if something comes up either."
"Why not?" squeaked one of the few Slytherins who had joined the group. She was a first-year who had made friends with Hufflepuff who had been friends with a Gryffindor.
"Professor Snape could get into trouble for helping us."
Everyone nodded in agreement. It wasn't as if Snape was the most friendly fellow around anyway. Another member of PL spoke up. "What do we do if it looks like we're in big trouble?"
"Hide." Neville said. "Harry has certain authority around Hogwarts, so whatever you do, don't leave the Hogwarts grounds. Help can reach you here." He then spent several minutes instructing them on how to evade questions and the best ways to keep PL secret. They reviewed these tips almost every time they met, but it was still good to keep them fresh.
Harry looked up from his copy of 'Manipulating Wizarding Governments- A Guide to Devious, Backhanded Politics,' when Tess entered his study and cleared her throat. "Can I help you?" he asked her, putting the book down.
"Yes, milord." she said. "Emissaries representing some of your subject have arrived and request an audience with you at your earliest possible convenience. Would you be so inclined to meet with them at this time?"
"Who are they? Harry asked curiously. "The Ice People?"
Tess shook her head nervously. "No, not the Ice People. These people represent the inhabitants of one of the islands that you have dominion over. They're normal humans, aside from the fact that they are all sorcerers."
"Which island is that?"
"They hail from the Dread Island of Trazkaban, milord." Tess said uncomfortably. "Count Hiscophney is Polairix's steward over Trazkaban. These emissaries come from him."
Harry nodded thoughtfully. "I suppose that I'll meet with them in the throne room." He stood up, put his book down, and made his way out the room and down toward the large hall with Tess lagging behind. "I don't suppose that you would consider explaining why the emissaries from Trazkaban make you so nervous." Harry said to her.
"It's just that the inhabitants of Trazkaban are not very friendly." Tess gulped. "Uninvited visitors to their island have a tendency to not leave the island alive. It is said that their sorcerers practice the darkest of Dark magic." She paused and then continued speaking with a nervous whisper. "It is also said that one of Count Hiscophney's ancestors was the one who created Dementors."
"I see." Harry said thoughtfully as they entered the massive room . It seemed that Bellatrix had also heard of the visitors and was already standing on the dais next to her own chair. "I'm glad you're here." he said, giving her a smile.
Bellatrix smiled back and then her countenance turned grave. "Tess has probably explained all she knows about Trazkaban. Whatever you do, don't give the emissaries an inch if they are here to ask for things. The last thing you need is Trazkabanians thinking they can circumvent you."
"I hope to make use of them." Harry stated as he thought about his plans. If he wanted to be able to stand up to Britain, his own dominion needed to be in order. That would be impossible if any of the inhabitants of the North were at odds with each other. He sat down, followed by Bellatrix as every single on of his bodyguards arrived and took their stations near the throne and around the room. "Their magic can be useful, especially in wars."
The doors opened and several men clad in black outfits with what appeared to be black dragonhide armor strode in arrogantly. Harry watched them. He sensed no ill will from them, but these men were… different. A few moments later, they were arrayed before Earl of the North, having no qualms about staring him in the eye.
The one who appeared to be their leader spoke up. "Lord Hiscophney, the Count of Trazkaban, sends his regards to the House of Polairix and the Earl of the North. We hereby reaffirm his House's commitments to your House. "
"The House of Polairix is happy to welcome Count Hiscophney's emissaries to Nair'icaix." Harry stated formally. "It is my wish to strengthen the North and I hope that your lord will see fit to stand at my side when I reveal myself to the world and began to assert myself against Lord Voldemort."
The lead emissary nodded and fell back. Another one of the emissaries stepped up and gave a minor bow to Harry. "I am Count Hiscophney. Forgive me for the deception, my lord. I felt that it was necessary, considering that the House of Polairix and my ancestors have not always been on the… friendliest of terms."
Harry's first reaction was to curse himself for being deceived so easily. As soon as he recovered from this, he turned his attention to his ring to see if it could explain what the Count had meant about not being on the friendliest of terms. It revealed that House of Hiscophney had attempted to usurp Polairix for the Earldom of the North at one point in time.
A study of Count Hiscophney soon followed. Harry observed that he appeared to be nearly fifty years old. The counts former dark hair was slowly going gray. Harry then looked into his emotionless black eyes before responding. "I suppose I can understand your motives." Harry said slowly.
"I am glad." Hiscophney said. "However, I would like to give you a token of my loyalty."
"What token is that?"
Hiscophney cleared his throat. "Your staff has no doubt informed you of the fact that I and my fellow subjects on Trazkaban are sorcerers and that we practice magic that is rather Dark. I freely admit that."
Harry looked at the count appraisingly. "I don't understand what you're getting at."
"Recently, we were approached by messengers from Lord Voldemort." the count said. "I would have you know that though our ways are Dark and our customs probably quite evil according to your standards, we are not Muggle killers or torturers. We are not, nor will we ever be Death Eaters."
"I would certainly like to think that you are not Death Eaters." Harry said carefully.
Hiscophney smiled predatorily. "I would like you to know so." He then gestured to one of the emissaries who was holding black case. The emissary strode forward and took his place next to Count Hiscophney.
The count then spoke as he opened the box and reached his hand in while the emissary held it. "This is the welcome that Death Eaters can expect on Trazkaban." He drew his hand out and with it came the decapitated head of Rodolphus Lestrange. "I present this trophy to the House of Polairix."
Everybody in the room with the exception of Trazkaban's emissaries let out a shuddering gasp. Bile rose in Harry's throat as he looked at Hiscophney's trophy. Next to him, Harry could hear Bellatrix holding back a startled exclamation of surprise. He unconsciously reached his hand over to hers and gave it a comforting squeeze.
Harry's ring was quick to appraise him on the customs of Trazkaban. According to Trazkabanian custom, Count Hiscophney had just formally declared war on Lord Voldemort and loyalty to Harry by presenting Lestrange's head to him. Though the gesture was disgusting, Harry had to acknowledge that it was the thought that counted.
Now, what to do with a head? Harry came up with the most diplomatic solution possible. "House Polairix expresses its gratitude to House Hiscophney." Harry said regally. "I am glad to have you on my side and assure you that I now 'know' that your are no Death Eater."
Hiscophney nodded and put the head back into the box. "I am pleased, my lord. What would you have me do to serve you?"
Harry grimaced as he watched the emissary close the box. "If you don't want to keep that head, send it to Voldemort would you? And then would you be so kind as to call on me next week so we can have a meeting to discuss our future plans as to Britain and Voldemort?"
"Of course, my lord." Count Hiscophney said in a pleased voice. "I shall now take my leave." He and his followers gave Harry a short bow and then strode from the throne room looking very pleased with the results of their visit.
Harry then promptly dismissed Tess and the bodyguards from the room. As soon as they were gone, Bellatrix let out a sigh and slumped in her less-ornate throne. "I think that I am going to vomit." she announced weakly.
The House-Sprite magic promptly provided a pan in which she could do so. She took them up on it. As soon as she was done she sat back weakly and closed her eyes. "I know what you're going to say Harry. It isn't your fault. Rodolphus was a bad man and his end was somewhat fitting."
"Actually," Harry replied, "I was afraid that you would be mad at me for allying with them despite the fact that they slaughtered him."
She opened her eyes and looked at him. "Why would I be? You didn't tell them to decapitate him. Besides, he was a Death Eater."
"I gave them the impression that such acts were praiseworthy." Harry countered.
Bellatrix nodded slowly. "Yes, you did. That doesn't change much however. Rodolphus was a dead man for even touching the soil of Trazkaban. For all you know, he was dead before they 'harvested' his head and brought it to you."
"So then I approved of act of killing anyone who trespasses on their island."
"Actually, one of your predecessors approved, not you." came the trademark dry voice of Reggins, Harry's personal secretary. He appeared a moment later with a short pop and smiled at the look on Harry and Bellatrix's faces. "I'm sorry to intrude, but I thought it necessary before you got worked up over a non-issue."
Bellatrix smiled weakly at Reggins. "I'm glad that you did. Harry seems to have a habit of blaming himself for a great deal of things that are not his fault." She turned to him and took his hand. "With authority, comes responsibility. It's possible to take too much responsibility though."
Reggins nodded in agreement and then began to explain what his earlier comment had meant. "Of all the residents in your dominion, the Count of Trazkaban has the most autonomy. Some men who have held that position have even gone so far as to say that you hold no dominion over the island. In fact, during the reign of Lord Polairix IX, the Countess of Trazkaban sieged Nair'icaix."
"Your point?" Harry inquired.
"Sorry for wandering, my lord." The ghost said. "Anyway, Trazkaban is recognized as private property. For their loyalty and alliance in the political sector, the House of Polairix grants Trazkaban complete sovereignty and autonomy. Technically, what they do on that island is none of your business. Even if you didn't want them to kill trespassers, there would be nothing you could do about it."
"I see."
"I'm glad, my lord." Reggins then disappeared.
Bellatrix smiled and squeezed Harry's hand. "See? Not your fault. If you do want to blame someone though, blame Voldemort. He's the one who sent Rodolphus and other fellow Death Eaters to Trazkaban."
Harry nodded sadly. "Everything that has been going wrong can pretty much be traced to him."
"I suppose so." Bellatrix said quietly. "I think that I shall return to my work in the library. It will help keep my mind off… things." She then stood up and walked out of the room, leaving Harry to contemplate life as he surveyed his empty throne room.
Who was to blame? Voldemort of course. Then again, he had the power to kill Voldemort, didn't he? So, if he did nothing with that power, then he would be held to blame. On the other hand, it wasn't as if Harry had forced Voldemort to do what he did.
Who was better? A man who used his talents for evil, or a man who did not use his talents at all? It all depends on how you look at it, Harry concluded. So many decision and so many points-of-view.
His reverie was interrupted when one of the doors slammed open and a grumpy woman carrying a bucket of water stomped in. Upon closer inspection, Harry realized that it was Narcissa. She had not noticed him however, so he did nothing to remedy it as she got on her knees and began to scab the floor with a sponge produced from the depths of the foamy water in the bucket.
Narcissa's hair style was now quite simple, yet good looking. The same went with her dress and general appearance. Apparently she had been making enough money from her services to live as a typical servant did.
Harry's plan to put her in a situation faced by many who actually had to work for their living had apparently been successful. The question was now whether or not she was learning the lesson that she was supposed to learn. Did she have any more respect for those who had been formerly below her?
Unable to resist the urge, Harry reached out with his Legillimency skills and gingerly touched her mind so as not to alert her to his snooping presence. He was quickly disappointed. All Narcissa could see was that the spoiled 'Boy-Who-Lived' was forcing her to do servant stuff. She was afraid of him and continually wondered what Bellatrix saw in him.
With an inward sigh, Harry withdrew. She did not seem to understand that the attitudes of herself, ex-husband, and Voldemort caused pain to so many people. Maybe she needed to be exposed to more of the harsh realities of the world. I'll have to arrange for her to experience some reality as soon as I get the chance, Harry decided.