Heir Apparent By MonsieurClavier

Chapter 8

Summary:
Professors Voldemort and Malfoy teach “Death Eater Marketing 101.” Harry considers jumping out of the nearest window.

Notes:
Since the exact date the Abbots became halfbloods isn’t available, I am writing them as still being Purebloods at this time (the early 1960s). I’ve done the same with a few other Pureblood families, as you will see.

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In the pin-drop silence that followed Harry’s frankly ridiculous pronouncement, Morgane Malfoy stepped into her role as hostess, second-in-command, strategist and propagandist. It was evident that several Death Eaters, while impressed to the point of being overwhelmed, were also profoundly disturbed by a Light wizard of Harry’s capability amongst them—a threat to their very natures, capable of extinguishing the Dark magic within them with only a thought. And behind that was a more insidious fear… Had their Dark Lord abandoned them and their anti-Muggle philosophy? With a Light-aligned son, did Voldemort still espouse the rights of Dark families to practice their magic freely?

Voldemort would have articulated his ongoing support of them, but he was still too aglow with Harry’s magic to speak effectively. The peace that suffused him was like standing under a cool, sparkling waterfall, and any statement he made in this condition would lack his trademark gravitas. The second consideration was that he was obviously biased; anything he said in support of his own son would not be perceived as an objective assessment of the situation.

So Voldemort gave Morgane but a single glance, and she swept into action.

Mulciber, who was getting shakily to his feet, gave Harry a last worshipful look before melting into the throng. A prudent exit, lest Voldemort decide to crush him like a gnat. Again.

Morgane strode past the retreating Mulciber to curtsey before Voldemort and Harry. Her ice-grey eyes were bright with zeal, and Voldemort realised that she was not merely pretending enthusiasm for his sake, but was truly experiencing it. It was odd to see Morgane so moved; she was generally the epitome of poise.

“My lord,” she said, loudly enough for all to hear, “you have, in one fell swoop, assured our victory.”

Whispers broke out throughout the hall.

“I can see why you kept your heir a secret. Had such a mighty Light wizard—nay, a Light Lord—been sent to Hogwarts, Dumbledore would no doubt have attempted to poach him. Or, if that failed, eliminate him. But now…” She grinned, a ferocious, wolfish grin unlike any Voldemort had ever seen on her. “Now, it is too late. Now, we have an Albus Dumbledore of our own. A Light wizard at full maturation, strong enough to fight any of Dumbledore’s best soldiers, or even Dumbledore himself, and come out victorious.”

The whispers had intensified into an outright clamour. Excitement thrummed in the crowd, and even the Death Eaters who had been wary of Harry were beginning to catch Morgane’s infectious fervour.

“But our advantages do not end there.” Morgane surveyed the Death Eaters, catching each pair of eyes. “With our lord’s heir on our side, there is nothing stopping us from recruiting Light families. And why not? Why should we not seek sympathisers from all branches of magic, to strengthen ourselves even more? Dumbledore is too much of a milksop to tolerate Dark allies, and that will be his downfall. He has limited himself to too small a fraction of the wizarding population. But we are not similarly constrained. We will soon outnumber our enemies, and our lord’s heir will be our rallying cry, a source of new allies and of an invigorating renewal of our cause. Let us grow under Lord Voldemort’s prescient guidance. We cannot go wrong.”

The Death Eaters erupted into cheers, with the notable exceptions of Taliesin Travers and Walburga Black. They would need further finessing, which Voldemort would take care of at a later date. But now it was time for him to enter the conversation. Morgane’s inspired, impromptu proselytising had laid the groundwork for him to characterise himself as a wise leader, not a besotted father. He had also regained his equilibrium; with Harry no longer touching him, he could speak with his customary acumen.