Back to the future
They were still waiting for Harry to wake up and even though both Claudius and Helen had ensured the other three that Harry was by now "only" unconscious did it do nothing to ease their fear. While the four Borgia were quietly talking with each other about things they did not mind the young Black overhearing, the teanager spend her time alternately staring out of a window and at the still form of her intended. It had taken Lord Borgia over an hour to calm her down from her frantic state and in the end it had only been her fear of what she had been taught about him and his family that calmed her.
It might have been the second time she had met – or at least seen – the head of the Borgia and the first she saw his son and heir as well as who was obviousely one of his grandsons and his sister? Or was she his wife?, and she took care to note the differencies and simmilarities they had to each other and her betrothed. All five of them had Black hair though the woman and Lord Borgia were already starting to grey, which for wizards and witches could mean that they were somewhere between fourty and ninety – older still if you had creature-blood of some kind.
Yet as much as she tried she was not able to find anything in her professors face that clearly marked him as a member of the same family as the other four. Each of the others looked in one way or the other the same, all of them had the same chin and the three males had the same mouth and eyes while the woman and Marcello VII had the same cheekbones. Harry Andrews face however was different: while it had the same struckture as the Borgias' his mouth and eyes were very different – and he seemed more graceful, more delicate than the other three males. He had told her who his parents were and while she could find more of James Potters features in him and some of Lily Evens' than the four Borgias could she not help but feel that there was one missing piece in the puzzle her intended presented for her that would let her understand him. At least understand him better than she did, which was barly at all.
He as well as the other Borgia she had met thus far were one great mystery to her. While she wasn't naive enough to think that they trusted her or that they were always as nice and comforting as they had presented themself to her ever since she had called them for help, could she no longer understand why everyone in the wizarding world feared the mere mentioning of their name.
Even though she was looking at him, it was not Bellatrix who first noticed when Harry woke up.
"You gave us quite a scare, child!"
Something in Marcello VII's voice had changened. While it had been soft and comforting when he had spoken to her and had carried a hint of worry when he had only moments ago spoken with his family, it now had a quality to it that Bellatrix could not quite place. The worry and concern were clear as was a trace of annoyance but beneath all that was something else; a command, silken and ellusive but all the same present.
Looking away from her intended the young Black surveyed the others in the room and watched as the woman placed her hand on her intendeds head, waiting for him to open his eyes. Only after he had completed this action did she speak to him, telling him in a soft commanding voice how he had to act for the next several days and that she would visit him once a week till she was satisfied with his health. As soon as the woman had left them, giving each member of her family a kiss on the temple and patting Bellatrix on the head, the youngest of the three Borgia stood up and offered his hand to Bellatrix. Almost unconsciously she looke at her, for permission or reassurence she did not know, and only took the offered hand after he had given her a faint nod.
Both, the current head of the Borgia and his successor, waited till the youngest heir and the young Black had left the room and closed the door behind them before they turned as one to Harry. At first neither of the three spoke till Harry uttered a tired yet heartfelt 'Thank You' to both of them.
"You were lucky that you were not alone when you were torn from your body."
There was absolutely no emotion in Marcello VIII's voice and Harry inwardly wiced at its flatness, as far as he was concerned any emotion, even anger would have been better than no emotion at all.
"Had your fiancé not called us when she did you would have died and that is unacceptable.
Whoever has that much power over you, a Guardian, is dangerous to the whole family and as such has to be stopped by any means necessary, so tell us exacetly what happened."
Suppressing a painfilled – and also annoyed – groan Harry sat up before he answered his uncle; he would not have this uncomfortable conversation while lying down and looking up to the two older men!
"I have a one-sided bond with someone, a bond the other is completely unaware of and sadly a bond that will only break when one of us dies – which won't happen in the close future. As far as I know there is nothing I can do to block the bond or stop it from opening – and before you ask, this was the first time I left my body."
While Marcello VII was not frowning his voice potrait his feeling clearly:
"You mean to say that you knew that this could happen, that you knew that there was someone who could separate you from your body and kill you that way? And you didn't think that this piece of information would be of interest to the family? Henry, you are a Borgia, even if only your grandmother was born a Borgia, and as such it is your dutiy to report everything that presents such a danger to you and the family. Whoever you have this bond with – and you will tell us who it is – is powerful enough to seperate the soul of a Guardian from its body, which means that he is also powerful enough to do it to everyone else. Worse yet, when he is realy doing it without being aware of it..."
Harry winced as his great-grandfather called him Henry; yes, it was his name, but no-one actually used it. It was always Harry, that is when he wasn't called freak or boy or Potter. He wasn't able to remember a single time that he had been called Henry, he hadn't even known that his name was Henry and not Harry before he had seen his first report card in school.
As he noticed that his grandfather was just starting what had every promise to become a long winded rant about his responsibility to the family Harry couldn't help himself and interrupted one of the most feared living wizards.
"There was no reason to tell you about the bond", Harry interrupted the older man, his voice noticable colder than before, "while it is true that the bond can be dangerous for me, I am the only one in danger. There is no possible way to replicate it and as such everyone else is save. Even if he were aware what power he could potentially have over me, he could no exercise it as the bond is one-sided: I can see through his eyes and feel what he is feeling if his emotions are strong enough, but he is neither aware of my presence in his mind, as normally only my senses are engaged nor can he control when I am drawn to his mind. So as you see there was nothing for me to tell you. As long as he doesn't know that something ties me to him I am quite safe."
With dread the two Borgias listened to the words of the... newest... member of their family. When Harry had made it clear to them that he intended to meet the newest self proclaimed Dark Lord they had feared such a meeting – and just what it implied that Harry was so ...eager...to meet the man. Now though the cause for his eagerness became apparent – and their own uneasiness grew. If what they feared was true, and they had no doubt that it was, than Voldemort was the one Harry was bound to; Voldemort, one of the two Harry had seen binding hi, Thanatos, to his will.
"You mean to tell us," the younger Marcello hissed, his eyes darkening in anger, "that you knew what that man was able to do to you and yet you insisted on meeting him? That you willingly placed yourself into his path and risk not only yourself and the family out of somemisguided notion of arrogance or pride? Do you have any idea what your behaviour could cost us? If it wasn't..."
Bevore he could continue Marcello was stopped by his fathers hand on his arm. Looking at the older man questiongly he immideately stopped speaking. For moments all three men were silent, before the oldest spoke, softer and much calmer than earlier:
"What do you know of Thanatos, child, what do you know of the Guardians, what they are, what they can do, why they are?"