The Contract

Chapter 17

Corvus stared down at the book in his lap, his contemplative silence beginning to tick on. He'd been sitting staring at it for half an hour now. Quite frankly, he didn't know what to write. Or if he even should, as Lucius' words rang in his ears from weeks ago. Not to be surprised if he didn't hear from the boy on Samhain. His words to try and lessen the loss while they would be genuine for Harry, wouldn't be altogether entirely truthful. He was hardly mournful over the death of James and Lily Potter. No, he mourned the defeat of a good friend, one he knew wasn't dead, not if the Dark Mark was still present, which it definitely was. His sons would have immediately informed him if it had disappeared altogether. It was faded for sure, nearly gone, but still ever present.

Did he wait until Harry wrote? Which he did every day at least once just to give him an update, to reassure him that he was fine and had been sticking to his workouts. Also, events of the day that had happened that piqued his curiosity, and any questions he may have as a result of that. Sighing resignedly, he set the book aside, he could delay no longer lest he be late for his appointment. There was another meeting with the Wizengamot today, one that would determine the outcome of his weeks, no months of labour. He still had no clue as to the outcome, too much unpredictability, which irked him, but one must endure he supposed.

Drawing back the covers, Corvus began his morning routine, which had long since been ingrained. He could do them while asleep, really. Toilet, shower, teeth brushed, hair dried then his best robes for the occasion. Not that anyone would get to see them, he commiserated, as he picked up his gaudy disgusting wizengamot robes, the colour did not go at all with his pale complexion. They would be pulled over his clothes for the meeting, how he envied the Minister for magic on this one thing, he did not need to endure the colour, of course, Fudge probably commiserated on that too. For he seemed to like wearing the most Merlin-awful colours, his lime-green robes were prime example of that, and evidently his favourite given the amount of times he'd had to endure his presence with them on.

The House-elves had his breakfast ready for him, on his plate, there was no need for grandiose when it was just him. They hadn't discussed Harry coming to the manor for the holidays, so, he wasn't sure whether Harry would return or not. He liked to think Harry missed him, that he missed the manor, but since that first week at Hogwarts, he hadn't mentioned missing Lestrange Manor. Hogwarts was a place of safety and happiness for most students, and quite a few of them elected to remain at the school - like his own sons had done in their later years - and remain with friends.

Just as he was finishing up, the House-elf popped in with potion vials and the very familiar box. Accepting them without a word, he ensured all potions were what he needed to send, and the right dosages, ensuring they were still sealed - he had cautioned Harry never to drink a potion with its seal cracked - before placing them in the box. Which he then closed, he would check it later, but he had little doubt he'd find all vials back and empty. While it was conceivable that Harry could forget to take his potions, the pain would ensure that he didn't.

Pursing his lips, he didn't like the thought of Harry being in pain, but he was grateful that pain was greatly diminished from what it had been during his first days at Lestrange manor. His lips twitched just remembering Harry's potion addled displays. He had been adorable really, especially with Rabastan, who had been utterly flummoxed over Harry's actions.

Just thinking of those early days, caused his mind to drift to the Dursley's and his ongoing vendetta against those filthy Muggles. He'd had Marge Dursley arrested for a whole slew of crimes, at the front an illegal puppy mill, 'dog fighting' which had been entirely fabricated, and neglect of course, and an illegal income (tax always gets you in the end) that hadn't been declared for decades. Corvus had ensured that those dealing with Marge's case had a great fondness for animals. Which would ensure maximum penalties.