Son of a Lord

The Meeting

"What are you going to do Dumbledore?" Harry asked as they walked down the stairs, "Send me to Azkaban? Kill me?"

Dumbledore chuckled, "Oh no Harry, we won't kill you."

Harry rolled his eyes. He was the Dark Lord's son, he was a murderer. Anyone with any sense would kill him. They reached the bottom of the stairs and entered the kitchen. Dumbledore stopped in his tracks when Harry laid his eyes on a boy. He was younger than Harry, his hair a light brown. They had the same nose.

"Theo," Dumbledore said, "What are you doing down here?"

So this was the Potter's son.

Theo looked up from where he sat on top of the counter top, hands in his hair looking incredibly bored. His eyes widened when they rested on Harry, a smile blooming on his face.

"Who's this?" he asked.

Harry sneered at him and his face fell a tad.

"This is Harry," Dumbledore said, "He's joining us for tonight's meeting."

Strange. Very strange. So the Potters hadn't told dear little Theo about Harry. How curious.

Theo slumped, "That's why I'm not allowed in there. Can I go upstairs now?"

Dumbledore nodded and Theo raced past them, shooting a glace at Harry before he disappeared up the stairs.

Harry hummed, watching him go, "My brother."

Dumbledore chuckled and nodded, "Indeed. I assume-"

"My father told me about him. Though I see the Potter's neglected to inform him about me."

Dumbledore looked down at Harry with something that resembled pity. "Tom is not your Father Harry. James is."

Harry smirked, "The Dark Lord's blood is running through my veins old man, even you can't deny that."

Harry hated how sad Dumbledore looked in that moment, he didn't need sympathy! He needed to get back to his father!

Dumbledore said nothing as they walked into the dining room, the entire space falling silent in an instant.

The room was small and quaint Harry thought with a scowl, nothing like the grand dining hall of Riddle manor, but then again, not everyone can be dark lords can they? Every eye was on him, wide and unblinking. He knew they were scrutinizing his face, comparing it to James, who sat next to Lily at the far end of the table. Comparing it to Voldemort, who's face was on the Daily Profit on the middle of the table.

Harry knew who everyone was of course, his father had educated him well on the members of the Order of the Phoenix.

"Good evening everyone," Dumbledore said pleasantly, "This is Harry."

Harry could've laughed at the look on some of their faces. The people who didn't know about him stared at Harry in shock, and the people who did only looked exhausted.

Lily made a small noise and Harry glanced towards her. She was beaming at him, her eyes bright and shining with hope. Harry smirked, looking forward to crushing it. To his surprise, Lily stood up out of her chair and walked over to him. Harry was taller than her, she only came up to his chin.

"Harry," she whispered, reaching out to touch his face.

Harry flinched away, knowing that if he tried to grab her arm he'd be fighting against the entire Order.

"Don't touch me," he gritted out through his teeth.

Lily's face fell, "But I'm-"

"You're not my mother," Harry hissed, "I have no mother."