The Other Potter

Order

The dream was always the same these days, except it wasn't so much a dream as a repeated memory that haunted his nights and something that was repeated every time he stepped foot in the Malfoy Manor.

Voldemort had a room for Elijah whenever he was on Death Eater duty, it was secluded on the East Wing of the manor. It was also the place where Voldemort came to 'speak' with Elijah. It was a relatively sparse room, dark like the rest of the house with a small window that rarely caught the sun and a small bathroom attached, meaning they could lock him in his room when required, which seemed to be whenever he went around there. In the corner was an old double bed and the rest of the room was relatively empty besides basic furniture and two worn armchairs that sat in the center. That's where most of it happened.

Narcissa would take him to and from the room for the larger meetings, she'd been the only one he didn't flinch upon seeing when she entered the room these days.

Nine times out of ten, when the Dark Lord visited his room he'd be joined by another, it was their job to weaken Elijah's mind, and they often did that by using the Cruciatus Curse on him whilst Voldemort tried to invade his mind. They'd tried various other techniques and curses, of course, but it was the go-to. He didn't falter though, allowing the Dark Lord to see only what Dumbledore had told him to allow the other to see. Mostly just childhood trauma.

By the end of each session, he felt as though someone had wrung him out like a towel. Depending on who accompanied him, he wouldn't be able to get up for days afterward without collapsing.

Sometimes he found himself in his bed without knowing how he got there, he figured out a few weeks in that Narcissa had been moving him thereafter particularly bad sessions. On rare occasions, she'd bring his food in the next day instead of sending a house elf. She was gentle and caring, it took a lot to not breakdown in front of her, but he didn't know if this was another mind game Voldemort was playing.

Vancouver was a welcomed break from the chaos back in London, but still, everything had become about the war, except on the pitch where he could just focus on flying, but upon unmounting his broom he felt waves of guilt wash over him. Guilt from taking a break from it all.

He and Nik had been arguing exclusively about the Order and his tasks for the Voldemort. He was exhausted, and he hadn't even got to ask Sirius about Nik joining yet, having not attended a single meeting for the Order yet.

He'd heard nothing from anyone in the Order besides Regulus and Severus, and he knew Dumbledore would have told them not to attempt contact until necessary. But he wondered if that was all that was keeping them from reaching out. It certainly wouldn't have stopped him.

He received a note about a meeting a few hours before it was taking place, which left him plenty of time to take a Portkey to London from Canada. It took him to a phone box a few blocks away from Grimmauld Place.

Following the instructions Dumbledore had given him to get to the house, climbing up the steps slowly before turning away and going back down the steps. He was nervous. He hadn't seen any of them since his case, he'd written to Sirius a few times and filled Dumbledore in on a few necessities, but other than that it had been radio silence on both sides.

He went up and down the steps a few times, trying to build up the courage to knock on the door.

"You training for something?" Someone called from the other side of the road.

Elijah turned to see the boy who couldn't have been older than nineteen leaning against a low brick wall watching him, a cigarette placed between his lips. He must have just left the corner shop opposite and spotted Elijah's battle with himself.