Speak a Different Tongue

Chapter 2

"Wake up!"

Hands shook Harry so roughly, Harry's teeth clattered. He was awake at once, and he opened his eyes, confused.

Voldemort stared down at him, eyes narrowed and thin lips pursed. "The objective of keeping watch is to stay awake so you can hear any intruders enter the house."

"I fell asleep, didn't I?" Harry said, unsure.

"Yes, you worthless child!"

Harry flinched. "Shit. Sorry. Didn't mean to."

"Useless words," Voldemort said, and turned on his heels, his blue dressing gown billowing. "Find a way to stay awake from now on, or I will hex your eyelids off."

"Yeah." Harry slid his glasses up his nose and got up from the chair. He found a pair of slippers in the wardrobe, and he stepped into them before following Voldemort out the room. They were slightly too big, but it was better than nothing.

A box filled with food and drinks sat on the kitchen table, and beside it lay a copy of the Daily Prophet. They both leaned over to read the front page. Harry didn't really care he was standing right next to Voldemort. He now knew Voldemort wasn't going to kill him, and he did want to know what other lies Snape had come up with.

'PREPARATIONS FOR FUNERAL OF THE CENTURY ARE UNDERWAY'

Harry sighed, and Voldemort gave a loud snort.

"Where are they going to bury me, anyway?" Harry mumbled, and skimmed through the article. Godric's Hollow, as it turned out. "It doesn't mention your burial."

"I'm quite sure my body has already been incinerated by now," Voldemort said, and Harry couldn't argue with that. He read a few more lines of the article – all poetic waxing over how beautiful his funeral was going to be – and then he noticed a smaller article at the bottom of the page.

'AUROR AND FIANCE FOUND DEAD IN FLAT'

Harry swallowed, and read the first couple of lines.
Auror Nymphadora Tonks and her fiancé Remus John Lupin were found dead in Ms Tonks' London flat late last night. Evidence shows they were the victims of a brutal attack, which caused them severe physical injuries...

Harry couldn't read more, and he took a step back as his breath got stuck in his throat.

"Fenrir Greyback," was all Voldemort said. There was no emotion in his voice, and Harry wanted to punch him for it.

First Sirius. Then Dumbledore. And now Tonks and Lupin.

"This is all your fucking fault!" Harry felt fury explode in his chest as he turned to look at Voldemort.

"Was it my wand that struck them dead? No? Then I suggest you keep your mouth shut." Voldemort sounded impatient, but Harry was too angry to really notice it.

"These people were my friends!"

"No, these people are casualties of war," Voldemort said, eyes narrowing as he took a step closer to Harry.

"You don't know anything about friends. You only have servants who stab you in your back the first chance they get." Before Harry could say more to vent his anger and grief, Voldemort grabbed the front of Harry's pyjamas, raised Harry off the floor, and smashed him against the invisible barrier. Voldemort mumbled something, and Harry felt fire burst through him, right before his body went slack.