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Summary:

Harry Potter fanfiction written in 2022

And if after a few years the Dursleys had come to love Harry and treat him as their own son, while continuing to consider magic as a defect. How to reconcile his nature with the love of his adoptive parents? Very simple, just reject magic. But will the wizards let him do it?

Originally, I wanted it to be a succession of very short chapters based on the model of:Une adolescence à St Brutus

But quickly, I abandoned this idea and made a more classic fanfic. There are still a few very short chapters (especially in volume 1) thattestify tothis original ambition.

Mobilization of the camp of darkness

Author's note:

We are back.

To write you a fanfiction

In order to preserve the fandom from devastation

In order to rally all readers to our fanfiction accounts

In order to crush good taste and spelling mistakes

In order to extend our fame to the bar next door (well, we have the ambitions we can afford)

Serpentfou

Miss-Gotthelf-Snape

The Harry Dursley Team faster than chatGPT

Write a review or it will be war.

Thévenin, yes the war.

Serpentfou takes a big hammer and hits it while shouting:

Get lost, I haven't even published your fanfic yet.

Once again the Yeerks fly to other planets.

…..

A deathly silence falls over the room until coughs are heard.

It was embarrassing. We promise never to do that again.

As promised, here I am again. And I have good news and bad news.

The good news is that in addition to publishing a new chapter, I have added 3 chapters to volume 3. Indeed, chapters 14, 19, and 23 are new chapters. I decided to make this addition because in the current state, I felt that the friendship between Nott and Justin came a bit out of nowhere.

The bad news is thatAnd I change the publication rhythm.

Indeed, recently, I created a blog: https://serpentfou.fr with the aim of centralizing in one place all the things I have written over time (I haven't brought much back so far) and to be a bit freer to do what I want (notably to include images, videos, or music in the middle of my stories).

On the blog, I will publishin fullthe stories as soon as they are written. Whereas on fanfiction.net, I would publish at the rate of one or two chapters per week. That way, it would satisfy both those who prefer a slow release and those who prefer to read everything at once.So from now on on fanfiction.net, I will only publish one chapter per week every Thursday. Unless the chapter is too short, in which case I will publish 2 at once.

oOoOoOoOo

A few hours earlier:

Endoloris! Despicable traitor Peter, how dare you present yourself before me?

Peter was moaning softly on the ground after enduring his master's wrath. With a superhuman effort, he knelt and explained in a plaintive voice:

But, my lord, I was only following your orders.

My orders! How dare you miserable rat? Crucio! You helped him destroy my horcruxes. Accused Voldemort between two torture spells.

You had said that your horcruxes were well protected. That I just had to protect Potter until you managed to possess him completely.

Do not lie to me. Even a vermin residue like you should have understood that I just didn't have time to give you the rest of my instructions before the arrival of Sirius Black. Crucio! You prevented the collar from possessing him. Voldemort shouted again.

But master, how could I have guessed that you had entrusted one of your Horcruxes to Sirius's brother? Pleaded Peter.

I never entrusted him with one of my horcruxes, you dark fool. And look me in the eyes when I speak to you.

As soon as Peter looked up at his master, he felt as if his mind was torn in two. Voldemort was probing his mind with all his malevolent power, without worrying about the damage this thorough examination might cause to his servant's mind. Peter had to muster everything he had learned from spying on the occlumency lessons between Snape and Harry, just to avoid fainting. After what seemed like an eternity to him, Peter felt the malevolent mind withdraw. He felt tainted by its passage, but he was far too busy wondering what the smile on Harry's face meant to be offended. Was Voldemort smiling in anticipation of the tortures he was going to inflict on him for his lack of devotion, or had Snape's tricks allowed him to deceive the dark lord once again?

I see, you sensed the dark magic and you thought to protect him from a trap left by the Blacks for the upstarts who would dare to defile their ancestral home after their disappearance. How can you claim to be a wizard if you can't even differentiate your master's magic from that of his decadent fools? You are a disgrace to your blood.

Peter couldn't believe his luck and continued without giving his master time to think any further.

Master, I beg your pardon. I swear to you that since our last meeting, I have worked in the shadows to isolate Harry from his friends and to find a way to hasten your return. But Dumbledore was constantly watching him in secret. The only time I was free to move was during his visit to the Nott manor, but I had to settle for discreetly guiding the investigation of that journalist to hasten Harry's departure. I did not want to risk him eventually discovering another of your horcruxes.

Peter uttered this last sentence hoping that Voldemort would never have the bad idea of checking with Rita Skeeter. After all, if Voldemort relied on Harry's memories, apart from Peter in his rat form, no one else was present at that moment to report everything to the journalist. His lie would be credible and might convince him that he had served him faithfully.

This time Voldemort did not prolong the suspense:

I forgive your stupidity, this time. But know that there will be no second chance.

Peter advanced towards his master and kissed his feet. Then, in a pathetic voice, he pronounced:

Thank you, master. I will not disappoint you.

You'd better. Now, are you going to tell me everything you know about what just happened? What kind of spell did Dumbledore cast on this cloak?

I don't know, master. At no point did I see him approach it.

You are definitely perfectly useless. Unless you are feigning incompetence to avoid revealing what you know. I advise you to tell me everything.Thanks to my vast knowledge, I already have a good idea of the magic at play here and it would seem surprising to me that Dumbledore could have cast such a powerful spell without you noticing.

Panicked, Peter searched his memory for the slightest scrap of information. However, nothing came to him. He thought about inventing another lie, but the risk was too great that it would be inconsistent with what Voldemort knew about the powerful magic that had emanated from the cloak, ring, and wand that now adorned Harry's body. Peter had never heard of such magic. It was both so different and so similar to dark magic. Both darker and gentler. More terrible and calmer.

I swear to you that I know nothing, master.

An expression of disbelief appeared for a few seconds on Harry's face. It was so fleeting that Peter thought he was dreaming. But he didn't have time to wonder as he felt his mind being invaded again. But this time, the pure hatred that made up the destructive mind tearing through his memories was tinged with another emotion. An emotion he wouldn't have believed Voldemort capable of feeling. Voldemort was afraid. Was it possible that even he knew nothing of this terrifying magic?

Ah! Let's forget about that for the moment. Your incompetence has already made me waste enough time, and we must hurry if we want to have a chance to get ahead of Dumbledore.

Voldemort grabbed Peter by the arm and a second later they Apparated.

oOoOoOo

Master Malfoy, the mail has arrived. Pronounced fearfully a house-elf covered in bandages and a pillowcase of more than dubious hygiene. Then he stepped forward to the Malfoy's breakfast table and bowed so low that his nose touched the floor.

Okay, leave that here.

The elf bowed again, then placed the mail on one of the few free spaces on the table overloaded with exquisite dishes and Chinese porcelain vases, containing the latest bouquets arranged by Narcissa, from the flowers grown in the Malfoy manor greenhouses.

Since her only son had gone to Hogwarts, she had discovered a passion for flowers. Of course, she didn't cultivate them herself. The last of the Blacks would never lower herself to plunge her hands into dirt like a common mudblood. Moreover, as her husband liked to point out, jobs had to be provided for those parasites. Thus, by hiring a few of them to satisfy his wife's latest whim, they were killing two birds with one stone. They were helping to put them in their place while dispelling accusations of racism against them. 'Racism'! When she thought about it, Narcissa fumed. A word, not an ideology, imported from those Muggle animals to allow pseudo-intellectuals to deny biological realities.

But this morning, only one thing occupied Narcissa Malfoy's mind. Snape had promised to write to them, to inform them of their son's results. She trembled with impatience, and if it hadn't been for the rules of propriety, she would have long since pounced on the letter bearing the Hogwarts seal. Instead, she let her husband calmly take the letter and watched impatiently as he delicately unsealed it. Usually, Narcissa congratulated herself for marrying such an elegant and refined husband. But now she just wanted news of her son.

So my darling? What's new? Narcissa simpered.

Lucius looked at his wife tenderly, then his face broke into a mocking smile:

Excellent my beloved. Thanks to the World Cup, the revenues from our flying broom wood operations reached new heights in the first half of the year.

Cursed Lucius. If there was one character trait of her husband that she had never been able to stand, it was his humor. Fortunately, Lucius had learned to fear his wife's anger and quickly added:

Another source of rejoicing has reached us. My very dear friend Severus kept his promise. Neglecting his sleep, he obtained Draco's results in advance. Of course, as his blood suggested, they are excellent. This year, he should be at the top of his class. He even managed to surpass the son of the noble and ancient house of Nott. Severus insists, with his usual lack of tact, that this achievement is less due to Draco's work than to the stress caused to the Nott heir by the slanders the gazette deemed fit to pour on his name. Nevertheless, with such results, Dumbledore will be obliged to appoint him prefect.

My dear, it is far too early for this kind of consideration. The selection of prefects is only in two years. Narcissa reminded.

My invaluable companion, success is a prey that can only be captured after constant planning. It is never too early to start seizing what one deserves.

Certainly, but by rushing too much, we risk forgetting to pick up the treasures that line the path to the glory we both aspire to for our offspring. Today is a time for rejoicing. I know your feelings towards our son, but it would not be superfluous to express your pride in him more clearly. I would be grateful if you could take this opportunity to offer him the congratulations he deserves.

You are absolutely right, my Bird of Paradise (author's note: it's the name of a flower that symbolizes royalty in many cultures). I will clear my day and as soon as he returns from Hogwarts, I will take him to Diagon Alley to enjoy one of those ice creams he likes so much. Will you do us the honor of joining us?

How touching! Roared a child's voice with an icy tone.

Narcissa turned around hastily, grabbing her wand and once again rejoicing in having conceded during the last war the sacrilege of sewing a wand pocket on the sleeves of her luxurious master robe. At the time, it would have been suicidal to part with it for even a moment (even to go to sleep). In a second, she was in combat position, ready to face the intruder who had so rudely interrupted them. However, upon realizing it was only a child in a Hogwarts uniform, she almost let down her guard.

Then her eyes met those of the intruder, and she tightened her grip on her wand. They were red as blood, and his gaze exuded something dangerous. Something inhuman. Narcissa searched through the long list of dark creatures she had encountered, but the only idea that came to mind was that of a werewolf that had recently killed. But that was absurd. It was still broad daylight, and the manor's defenses would never have allowed such impure blood to soil the ground of the noble Malfoy house. In any case, Narcissa was about to chase the intruder away when her husband bowed, trembling:

Master, I was waiting for your return with such impatience.

Lucius! But you are being unreasonable, I am going right now …

Silence woman or you'll regret it. Lucius interrupted violently.

Narcissa was so stunned that for a few seconds she stopped breathing. Never had Lucius dared to speak to her like that. She was about to scream at him what she thought of this change when she realized it wasn't the surprise that had stopped her breathing. An extremely powerful dark magic was gripping her neck and blocking her breath. She panicked so much that she didn't notice her visitor had started speaking again:

Lucius, I am pleased to note that you are still as perceptive as ever. What a shame that your loyalty is not as developed. May I know what kept you from coming to your master's aid all this time? Hadn't you sworn eternal loyalty to me?

Master, I thought you were dead. Lucius pleaded in response.

So what? I'm pretty sure I didn't include 'until death do us part' in the Death Eaters' oath. Did you confuse it with your marriage contract? Voldemort mocked.

Master, let her breathe. You are going to kill her. I beg you. Pleaded Lucius.

You might have thought of that before. After all, you had 14 years for that. 14 long years during which I waited for my faithful Death Eaters to bring me the help they promised me. However, Voldemort is a merciful lord. I will grant you an additional extension to pay your debt. But this is the last time.

Harry Voldemort lowered his hand. Immediately Narcissa fell to her knees and, forgetting all notions of elegance, gasped for large gulps of air directly from the ground.

Lucius, for his part, knelt down and began to kiss his lord's feet, covering him with thanks (and drool). But Voldemort, with an annoyed look, cut off his outpourings.

That is enough. You will very soon have the opportunity to prove your gratitude to me in a more concrete way. Thanks to the memory of my host, I was pleased to learn that you have not completely abandoned our noble fight. Tell me...

Do you have access to all of Potter's memories? Lucius interrupted in a trembling voice.

Endoloris !!

Yelled Harry, pulling out his wand at lightning speed, just before Lucius began to scream under Narcissa's panicked gaze.

How dare you interrupt your master? Have these years made you lose all discipline? We will have to remedy that. But not now. For the moment, time is pressing. We must act quickly to get ahead of Dumbledore. Tell me, do you still have contacts within the Gazette?

Of course, master. But forgive me. I fear that Dumbledore and Fudge have conspired to relegate them to subordinate positions. Now, the gazette is primarily loyal to the ministry.

Incompetents! Voldemort yelled in anger, releasing his magic.

Under the terrified eyes of the two spouses, the precious wood of the furniture cracked and the windows shattered. In a protective reflex, for the only being stubborn enough to have managed to pierce his shell, Malfoy covered his wife's body to protect her from the shards of glass falling on them.

Once calmed, Voldemort berated him:

I don't care who you have to threaten or bribe for that, but if you want any chance of me forgiving your failings, you willManage to ensure that before the end of the day, the gazette releases a special edition with the text I will give you. After that, I will gather the rest of my followers. I wonder how many will have the courage to return when they feel my call? And how many will be foolish enough to stay away?

Then without waiting for a response, he turned around and left the room. As soon as he was out of sight, he staggered and leaned against a wall covered with a splendid tapestry embroidered with gold thread depicting one of the Malfoy family's ancestors riding alongside William the Conqueror.

For a wizard of his age, his host was powerful, but he was still a child. His magical core was not yet sufficiently developed to support such a display of power for long. Nevertheless, for Voldemort, it was unthinkable to show the slightest weakness. And certainly not in front of his Death Eaters. His childhood had convinced him that only the strong could live. The weak have only the right to beg for their survival and a bit of dignity. Nevertheless, he was aware that he could not maintain the illusion for long. At the first duel against the forces of light, the truth would come out. For now, he would have to fight Dumbledore by more subtle means. Voldemort hated this situation. It reminded him too much of his younger years when he had been at the mercy of supposedly wise and benevolent adults. He had to regain his power as quickly as possible.

And it started by breaking the spirit of that unbearable kid before he made another blunder. Voldemort was not stupid. If Lucius had dared to interrupt him, it was because he had already made one, which had aroused suspicions in him about the true power of his master. Voldemort wanted to avoid having to kill one of his most intelligent Death Eaters. Again, he focused on his host's mind and once more, he was repelled by powerful Occlumency barriers. He recognized Snape's work and cursed Dumbledore for having torn away the loyalty of one of his most talented servants.

Voldemort straightened up and called:

Peter!

Immediately, a rat came out of his pocket and transformed back into a miserable, trembling, and kneeling wizard. In his presence, Voldemort did not need to simulate strength. Nothing would ever be as weak as this human waste.

Yes, master? Peter asked respectfully.

Stretch out your arm.

My Lord, if you do that, your servants will Apparate by following the mark.

I am fully aware of it. But it seems to me that I gave you an order. Peter obeyed, trembling.

Voldemort touched Peter's mark, which immediately began to burn him terribly. The mark was now as clear and painful as on the first day.

Master, the protections of the manor will disarticulate your servants.

I am well aware, idiot. That's why I only summoned that traitor Snape. I have little hope he will fall into the trap, but in any case, the mark will give him a sample of my anger. Instead of discussing my decisions, make yourself useful and ensure this letter quickly reaches 4 Privet Drive. Voldemort ordered, conjuring with a wave of his wand a letter overflowing with nauseating sentiment, the text of which he had mentally drafted during the journey to Malfoy Manor.

Yes master.

Peter ran off to accomplish his task. At least that miserable worm knew his place. While waiting for his magical core to recharge enough for him to safely summon his other Death Eaters, Voldemort ironically inspected the magnificent tapestry depicting the great deeds that had earned the Malfoys their titles of nobility. The extensive research he had conducted in his youth on the history of purebloods (in order to discover who his father was and why he had abandoned him) had taught him that the ancestor of the Malfoys had nothing to do with this noble knight. In all likelihood, the first of the Malfoys was an illiterate mercenary fighting on foot because he was too poor to afford a horse and barely mastering his powers. At that time, Beauxbâtons did not exist, and most French wizards lived among Muggles, completely unaware of their potential.

It was only during the first assault of the Battle of Hastings, where the Norman army narrowly avoided being exterminated due to the display of power by the Weasley clan, that Malfoy and his superiors became aware of its potential. During the second assault, he was ordered to face one of the Weasleys in a duel. In this duel, he was quickly put out of action by Perceval Weasley. Nevertheless, due to Perceval Weasley's foolish chivalric values, he spared him after humiliating him.

Despite his defeat, Malfoy had completed his mission. The wizard had been occupied long enough to allow a handful of Norman knights to kill King Harold II of England. Thus, the Duke of Normandy could claim the English throne and ennoble Malfoy for his decisive role. Of course, none of this was depicted on this tapestry. But despite all their efforts, even today the Malfoys behaved like an upstart family needing to prove their status, while the Weasleys, whose degeneration had gone so far as to mix their blood with that of common Muggles, continued to behave as if their status was owed to them. All these ironies, injustices, and lies delighted Voldemort. So many flaws he could exploit to reinforce his own lies and conquer power.

oOoOoOoOo

Author's note: Voldemort's psychology in this chapter was influenced by what he shows in the fic: "Tom Riddle and the Curse of the Heart" by my beta Miss-Gotthelf-Snape.