It's All Just Temporary with a Bit of Necromancy

Chapter 39: Motion Carried

Motion Carried

Harry landed on the Warming Charm-covered patio and sighed as the warmth rushed through his cold, flushed skin causing it to tingle. He had a Wizengamot session in about two hours but he had needed to fly first to relieve the stress and nerves that had built up over the past few days. So, waking up early he had taken to the sky and raced across the icy fields and gardens, diving from higher and higher heights. His fingers and face grew numb as the sun slowly inched its way over the horizon bathing the snow-covered grounds in soft pinks and yellows.

He walked to the dining room after handing off his broom to Tobi. Marvolo was already seated and said nothing about Harry's flushed and sweaty state. His eyes tracked Harry's every movement as he poured his tea and loaded his plate. His stomach revolted at the thought of food but Harry forced himself to at least nibble on some bacon and toast. But mainly he focused on drinking the tea infused with Calming Draught, he knew he would need it today.

"Are you feeling prepared?" Marvolo finally asked, setting aside his newspaper.

"Suppose so," Harry said, staring at the bottom of his teacup. But there were no shriveled and soggy tea leaves to read that might predict the outcome of the upcoming meeting. Instead, it was pristine porcelain with a golden pattern that reflected the rim. Harry wondered idly if it was real gold. Probably, he decided.

Marvolo just nodded his head. The past few days had been nothing but strategy meetings with the Inner Circle, prepping for every potential scenario, coming up with appropriate responses, and rehearsing them so much that they came out natural.

"Anything new?" Harry asked, nodding at the paper Marvolo had set aside. He really didn't have the energy to read his own copy.

"Nothing new. Regurgitated news of the attack, more theorizing on myself and my aims spurred on by interviews from Dumbledore. He has been a constant presence the past few days in the papers. Today, there is speculation on whether you shall attend the Wizengamot today and if so, what your reaction will be."

Harry just nodded, absently picking apart his toast. "Do you..." Harry stopped and frowned at his plate of mutilated toast, adding a few more pieces before continuing. "Do you think that I'm as dark and twisted and evil as Dumbledore and some of the others claim?"

"Would it matter?" Marvolo asked, taking a sip of his tea and watching Harry with a tilt to his head.

"Of course, it would matter!" Harry replied harshly, grabbing another piece of toast to tear apart, "I mean it would mean they're right."

"Why are you thinking this way?"

"Well, I mean I haven't actually mourned for my aunt and cousin and technically I am a serial killer now," Harry muttered with a shrug.

Marvolo hummed. "Admittedly you do have a higher body count than I did at your age."

Harry groaned and dropped his head into his hands to pull at his hair while his elbows rested on the table. "Why am I even bothering talking to you about this?"

"Do not be cross simply because I am not pandering to your internal philosophical crisis. Why would I not be the best to provide assistance on this topic?"

"Because you have a moral compass that is permanently stuck at south."

Marvolo pursed his lips but didn't argue. "Be that as it may if it's worth anything, I believe that considering your intense introspection regarding this topic you are not at risk of becoming evil ." Marvolo sneered the word and Harry smirked, surprisingly uplifted by the perspective.