Sweet Revenge

Alice Visits & Harry Deliberates

That morning, it had rained, leaving behind it a comforting humidity. Harry sat on the windowsill in Tom's grand study, staring over the fresh, green grounds. Tom had created a magical current of air so that the room did not become stifling when he left, and Harry was grateful for it. 

It had been a few days since Alex & Co. were abducted from the Burrow, and the summer was approaching, which meant a great many things. 

Due to Harry's own incessant complaining, Alex & Co. had been moved from the cage to a newly-created room in the South Wing of Slytherin Castle with an entire wall of glass--much like a museum exhibit. 

Alex and Ron seemed to have adapted well, seeing as they were left to do what they did best, which was nothing at all. Hermione was stressed about the final exams at the end of their sixth year which were coming up in a little over a month. Ginny had found a new pastime in creating rather avant-garde makeup looks with the materials she had saved from the Burrow. Even Molly and Arthur Weasley seemed to have arranged themselves in the limbo that was Harry's own indecision or rather lack of care.

For it was indeed up to Harry what would happen to the prisoners. He had spent many a night contemplating what to do with them now that they were captured. 

Sending them back into society before Tom could take over would be a disruption to the flow, but not because they could actually caused any harm (their reputations had been destroyed, and they had done something to annoy all of their other allies). 

So, Harry had been thinking about a reintroduction program for them. 

That, however, required planning, and Tom-the-workaholic had decided yesterday that he needed a break from all the paperwork being thrown at him from both his Dark Lord duties, his new position as Head of the Wizengamot, and the fact that Izar had gone off to the Bahamas on an early vacation with his wife. 

Harry had thus been suddenly gifted a massive pile of work, and he had diligently educated himself. But, that meant that the prisoners' limbo was indefinite as of now. 

It was even more complicated because Slughorn wanted to transform the room in which the prisoners were currently housed into a lovely salon to host his new Senior Slug Club (the one at school being his Junior one). 

On top of all this, there was Tom himself. Harry had yet to completely address his own feelings about Tom. Harry was still sixteen, but come July, he would be seventeen. And July was in a few months, which meant Harry had to work himself out in that time. He knew Tom had not been pushing anything since their kiss, but there was an undeniable attraction, if Tom's gestures and intent gazes were anything to go by. Once, when Harry had been ill, Tom had brought him breakfast in bed, and something about the sight of Tom in regular robes and un-coiffed hair holding that tray of omlette, bread, jam, and tea caused Harry's heart to swell and his chest to burst with...something. Dare he say love? 

Harry shied away from the topic in his own mind--best address it when he turned of age. This question thus continued to brew in his brain and rendered him an agitated mess in the mornings when he awoke from a certain pleasant dream. 

Harry cracked his eye open. When had he closed them? The sun was slightly lower in the sky, and the humidity about his shoulders had mostly dissipated. How long had it been? Harry lifted his fingers to the window pane and dragged his finger across it, tracing a wobbly heart.

----------

Elsewhere, in front of Elladora Black's old Suffolk manor, Regulus and Barty stood side by side. Regulus was worriedly wringing his hands, and Barty was standing there trying to decide whether it would be more comforting to pat his back or hug him. 

They were looking at the road that led up to the manor, for today was the day Mrs. Belfrage-Walton had agreed to bring Alice to look around. In June, Alice would get her Hogwarts letter, and her mother had wanted her to see some magic beforehand. Regulus had spent the entire day cleaning the house from the wine vane to the cellar and from the east garden to the west porch with the wicker chairs. Barty had not been allowed to do anything despite offering his services. 

           "Oh dear Merlin!" Regulus fidgeted. "Have they gone the wrong way? Did I send the right coordinates? Oh! And you did lift the Notice-Me-Not charm on the front gate, right?"

           "Yes, yes, I did. Don't worry, Reggie! It's barely been a minute past!"

Regulus shifted, the gravel crunching beneath his Oxfords, and the two continued to wait. 

           "Have I overdressed?"

            "No, dear, you haven't. They'll be here in a minute."

Appearing unconvinced, Regulus cast a look at the house.

            "Maybe I should change into something more casual," he fretted.

             "Reggie, love, really. It'll be alright--."

             "Oh, dear Merlin! They're here!" Regulus screamed, clutching Barty's shoulders.

Barty turned and saw a small black car puttering over the hill some metres from the manor and exclaimed,

              "By Merlin, so they are!"

              "Oh, dear!"

              "Dear me!"