On the Other Side

~VIII~

 "B-but how – ?" Hermione finally found her voice after several long minutes of forced breathing.

"That hardly matters now," interrupted Voldemort in cold tone. "Ms. Granger, I suggest you put up the Secrecy Veil and Silencing Barrier now," he added in clipped tone.

"Wha – ?"

"Someone's coming up the stairs," Lupin confirmed tensely.

Hermione bristled and hastily waved her wand muttering all necessary incantations in one breath.

Harry let out a breath of relief simultaneously with the Dark Lord's sigh, when they all felt the magical barriers appearing and the faint sounds from the outside disappearing into muffling silence.

"So – ?" Hermione prompted carefully, looking expectantly at Harry, and then – at Voldemort.

"So – what? I told you already everything of importance," in hushed tone responded Harry. "We have another complication, as well, though I am starting to think they are related to each other."

"What other complication?" Hermione suddenly lost all nervousness in view of interesting topic of research.

Harry glanced at the Dark Lord with unvoiced question and received a curt nod in reply.

"Our magic. It's tangled. To be precise, he doesn't have access to his own magical resources and instead takes my magic when casting."

"It's blocked from my conscious reach and goes elsewhere," with a grimace elaborated Voldemort. "I suppose it feeds the fetus, actually," he winced. "Rather inconvenient, I must say."

"I beg to differ," Harry snorted, "this way you cannot curse anyone else, and, when you try to curse me, your spells backfire," he smirked with satisfaction.

"That can harm the baby, you know," Hermione interjected in low tone.

"I guessed as much," Harry replied. "And in the end it still hurts me, in a round-about way – he transmits everything through our mental connection."

Voldemort hissed in annoyance.

"Fine! Go and spill all of our precious secrets to your little friends," he gritted.

"Hey, Lucius here is not my friend! He's yours!" Harry protested. "And that's not all our secrets, but just one! And I think it's important for the case!"

"That's just your opinion," Voldemort grumbled.

"You're just pissy 'cause that's me who knocked up you and not the opposite," Harry returned.

"I can still 'transmit' every morning sickness to you," with a dry humor retorted Voldemort. "And when the time comes – the delivery pains!" His smirk widened.

Harry shuddered.

"Spare me," he snorted.

"Guys, guys!" Hermione waved a hand between their faces. "Back to business, please!"

"You do not order me around, Ms. Granger," grumbled Voldemort.

"I am begging you, Mr. Riddle, not ordering!" Hermione corrected him.

Voldemort winced. 'Bloody mudblood!'

"Ouch! Tom! That was rude!" Harry called out aloud. "Who said something about not insulting those present behind their backs?"

"You want me to repeat that aloud?" Voldemort asked surprised.

"Of course, not!" Harry huffed. Then turned to Hermione, "'Mione, would you be so kind as to not call this moron by his father's name? It irks him something fierce. I won't be responsible if next time he slips up and starts throwing wandless curses using my magic, just for everyone's information." His gaze returned to the Dark Lord: "I suggest you invent something less pompous than 'the Dark Lord Voldemort' for everyday use, then, if you're so hellbent on not being called by your birth name."