
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1349002.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M, M/M, Multi
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Harry_Potter/Voldemort, Sirius_Black/Remus_Lupin, Hermione_Granger/Ron
      Weasley, Draco_Malfoy/Blaise_Zabini, Harry_Potter/Tom_Riddle_|_Harry
      Potter/Voldemort, Brief_Harry_Potter/Fred_Weasley/George_Weasley
  Character:
      Harry_Potter, Tom_Riddle_|_Voldemort, Luna_Lovegood, Hermione_Granger,
      Albus_Dumbledore, Sirius_Black, Remus_Lupin, Fred_Weasley, George
      Weasley, Seamus_Finnigan, Draco_Malfoy, Severus_Snape, Blaise_Zabini, Ron
      Weasley, Neville_Longbottom, Ginny_Weasley, Molly_Weasley, Dolores
      Umbridge, Minerva_McGonagall, Filius_Flitwick, Poppy_Pomfrey, Bellatrix
      Black_Lestrange, Rodolphus_Lestrange, Rabastan_Lestrange, Peter
      Pettigrew, House_Elves_(Harry_Potter), Lucius_Malfoy, Alastor_“Mad-Eye”
      Moody, Arthur_Weasley, Dean_Thomas
  Additional Tags:
      Mentions_of_Draco_Malfoy/Harry_Potter, Book_5:_Harry_Potter_and_the_Order
      of_the_Phoenix, Extremely_Dubious_Consent, Non-Consensual_Kissing, Hand
      Jobs, Bondage, Magic, Dark_Magic, Battle, Mpreg_Harry, Potions, Pranks
      and_Practical_Jokes, Singing, Song_Lyrics, Kidnapping, Blood, Blood
      Magic, Bonding, Explicit_Sexual_Content, Hogwarts_Fifth_Year, Hogwarts,
      Snakes, Death_Eaters, Cruciatus, Horcruxes, Christmas_Fluff, Implied/
      Referenced_Torture, Possessive_Behavior, Jealousy, Implied/Referenced
      Character_Death, Mpreg, Threats_of_Rape/Non-Con, Past_Relationship(s),
      Restored_Youth
  Collections:
      HPFandom
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-03-22 Updated: 2016-07-21 Chapters: 10/? Words: 51595
****** Masculum Graviditate ******
by ChibiAyane
Summary
     Horace Slughorn, genius Potions Master, has invented some new potions
     that allow a man to get pregnant. The Dark Lord Voldemort decides
     that he wants to use them on Harry Potter. (Voldemort with his looks
     restored.)
Notes
     This is an Mpreg idea that I decided to run with. I could use some
     input and suggestions on where to go with it. I have several chapters
     written already and I am writing more. Reviews would be greatly
     appreciated!
     Thanks to Genuka and Lisa for proofreading and offering suggestions.
     "Speech."
     'Thoughts.'
     "~Parseltongue.~"
     Spells and potions.
***** Prologue *****
+Chapter 1: Prologue+
--Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, somewhere in Northern Scotland.
Friday 22 December 1995. Final class period of the first semester for the
Gryffindor 5th years - Double Potions with the Slytherins.--
Harry was slumped in his seat in the dreary potions lab, resting his elbow on
the table while his hand was holding his head up. He was dead tired - damn
Umbridge and her thrice damned detentions! And damn Snape and his Occlumency
lessons! He hadn't gotten a decent night's sleep in over a month! And any sleep
he did get was wracked with nightmares. If it weren't for Hermione helping him
and checking his work, he never would have even finished all of his homework;
much less get passing grades! As it was, his grades were still suffering more
than usual. And he couldn't even play Quidditch on his days off! What wouldn't
he give to soar through the air on his broom, wind blowing through his hair?
Harry's eyes were just drooping shut when the door banged open and Hogwarts'
own Dungeon Bat billowed into the room, his usual scowl in place. Harry's eyes
snapped open once more as Snape stopped at the front of the class, glaring at
every student before he spoke. "Everyone shut up and pay attention!" he snarled
at them, even though the room was silent. This phrase and the obvious hostility
was enough to tell the whole class that their professor was in an even fouler
mood that usual. "Exciting news in the potions world has presented a few new
potions to be added to the curriculum for the older students, starting with you
idiots. They were presented to the Wizengamot and every potions journal in the
world two days ago by their inventor; Horace Slughorn, Potions Master and
former potions professor here at Hogwarts. The Wizengamot has since approved
the potions, making it legal for them be brewed and sold by licensed Potions
Masters. The Ministry has also sanctioned the notion that the brewing process
be taught in classrooms by a licensed Potions Master, like myself." Here, Snape
paused and let out an uncharacteristic sigh, as if he was dreading what he
needed to say next. He sneered and continued. "I should hope that you all are
old enough to know how babies are made and mature enough to keep your opinions
on homosexuality to yourselves, so we'll put that explanation aside and get to
the introduction of the new potions."
At this, he had everyone's undivided attention; some curious and interested,
some wary and working their way up to disgusted. What did homosexuality have to
do with making babies?
Snape grimaced and his sneer deepened. "As few people know, Horace Slughorn is
a homosexual himself, and has been living together with his life partner for
many years. And in all this time he has been endeavoring to create a way for
two men to have a child together. An endeavor in which he has recently
succeeded." Murmurs went through the classroom, mostly from the straight males
who were grossed out and the purebloods who were thrilled with the
opportunities this presented. Harry noticed Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini,
especially, were making googly eyes at each other. Seamus Finnegan was waggling
his eyebrows at the other boys, making most of them uncomfortable and Dean
Thomas was shaking his head at Seamus' antics. But the face that made Harry
snort with laughter was Ron's. He looked horrified and disgusted, the look was
plain on his face for all to see and he was shifting in his seat, as if
imagining having sex with another man and popping out a baby. Hermione had that
glint in her eyes again; telling both Harry and Ron that she would be getting
her hands on any article or potions journal she could, just to figure out how
it all worked. Both of her best friends knew that, because of this
announcement, she would be poor company to be in if one wanted to have a decent
conversation, at least for the next week.
"Quiet!" Snape bellowed, waving his wand and making two very long sheets of
instructions appear in front of each student. Harry picked his up and looked
them over, reading one labeled as 'Masculum Graviditate' and the other labeled
as 'Masculum Ovi Ubertatem'. Glancing over the instructions, he noticed how
complicated these potions were, each taking well over a month to brew as well
as near constant overseeing. One needed to be stirred in a bizarre pattern
every twenty minutes, for the entire brewing period!
"Now, I am required to explain to you all how the process goes, so none of you
make any hasty decisions and resultant mistakes, doing yourselves irreparable
harm," Snape continued. "These potions are both expensive and difficult to
produce. I do not expect any of you or even the older students to successfully
brew either of these potions." Snape smirked in satisfaction, happily rubbing
it in all of their faces that their potion brewing skills were subpar, compared
to his own. "This process, in essence, allows a man to get pregnant. It takes
the use of both the potions in front of you and a new spell, also created by
Horace Slughorn, to be successful. The spell you will be learning in Charms
class. To become successfully pregnant, it takes three doses of the potion
'Graviditate' over the course of three days, preferably while the drinker is
either unconscious or dosed with a pain relieving potion, as its effects are
very painful. A week later, one would then take one dose of 'Ovi Ubertatem' -
this potion isn't painful but is magically draining. Then, three days after
that, you will need to use the spell called 'Seminis Inuerrere', followed by
immediate intercourse." Snape's sneer deepened even more. "The Minister of
Magic, Headmaster Dumbledore and Madame Pomfrey would like me to stress to you
all that if you ever decide to undergo this process, that it would be wise to
have it overseen by a healer or mediwitch to be sure that everything goes as it
should. There are several necessary spells that need to be used during the
birthing process to... move things around, shall we say," Snape sighed again.
"Thankfully, you will NOT be attempting to brew these particular potions until
you reach NEWT level. You OWL students will only be studying the theory and
preparations for the potions." There were groans of disappointment and sighs of
relief all over the classroom.
Harry supposed it was a good thing, because he knew he would screw this up big
time if he were to try brewing something this complicated on very little sleep.
After laying the instruction sheets back down onto the table, Harry looked back
up at Snape, expecting to be told what to do next. What he didn't expect was
the hard unreadable look Snape gave him when they locked eyes. Harry's
shoulders tightened, waiting to be insulted yet again for doing... whatever he
might have done that Snape thought was wrong. But he was surprised again when
Snape's gaze flicked away from him and over the rest of the class. 'What was
that about?', Harry thought to himself.
The rest of the double potions class went as usual, with Snape ending the class
with yet another warning about brewing or consuming these potions without
supervision and assigning them extensive research and an essay on the theory of
the new potions to be turned in when they came back from their holidays.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione dropped their stuff off at Gryffindor Tower before
trudging down to dinner. The last dinner before the holidays. They sat down and
started filling their plates, Ron stuffing his face in between asking questions
about how those potions could possibly work.
"I's jus' no' possib'!"("It's just not possible!") Ron shouted with his mouth
full, Harry translating the Mouth-Full-Ron-Speak in his head with practiced
ease. "I me'... we 'on't ev' 'ave da righ' par's!" ("I mean... we don't even
have the right parts!")
Harry shrugged and glanced at Hermione, who already had her nose buried in the
latest issue of Potions Quarterly. There was a picture of a fat man on the
cover, waving and smiling jovially; 'The Genius Horace Slughorn' was splattered
across the page in big bold letters. It appeared as if Hermione didn't hear Ron
or was just ignoring him in favor of her latest academic interest. He couldn't
blame her; Ron was being rather gross again, eating and talking at the same
time, spraying half chewed food all over the table in front of him. And, though
Harry was loathe to admit it, these new potions were pretty interesting.
Ron swallowed his mouthful and continued. "I'm never popping a baby out my...
Where would it even come out?! No way, only girls for me!"
Harry didn't want to agree. He really couldn't care less about gender when it
came to whomever he would make a family with later on - if he ever got the
chance that is. But he knew Ron was straight, so he just nodded as if to agree
that Ron would never sleep with a man.
When they finished eating (Harry going so far as to pluck the potions magazine
out of Hermione's hands and shoving her plate towards her when she scowled at
him), they all turned to Dumbledore, who stood and started his speech about the
winter holidays, telling everyone who was leaving to have a Happy Yule or a
Merry Christmas. Harry was glad to be leaving for the holidays for once. He was
going to Grimmauld Place to spend the holidays with Sirius and Remus and the
Weasleys. Just one more blasted detention with Umbridge, and he was free!
 
--Slytherin Castle, somewhere in Ireland. Same day.--
The Dark Lord sat behind his desk in his study, skimming over the reports from
his Death Eaters and absentmindedly glancing through the various news papers,
magazines and editorials. He'd seen the one about Slughorn and his new
inventions, and while he commended the man on his brilliance, it really didn't
help him any, other than making it possible for him to choose anyone he wanted
to produce an heir, male or female.
He'd just picked up a report from Lucius Malfoy, relaying his son's
observations from inside the school, when an idea started to form inside his
head without his notice. He grinned when he read about the hellishly bad school
year Potter was having. 'Good, anything to keep that upstart busy and out of my
hair!,' he thought to himself. And he did have hair; he ran his hand through it
tiredly as he finished reading the report. It had taken a lot of research to
come up with a potion that would give him his looks back. It took hours of
research in Slytherin's personal library and the Malfoys' family library, as
well as a few illegal and rare ingredients, including some stealthily obtained
blood from Potter and basilisk venom from the dead beast in the Chamber of
Secrets.
He'd almost gotten caught trespassing in Hogwarts when he went down to the
chamber to get the venom. He'd anticipated Dumbledore putting up wards against
him, but apparently the old coot had managed a few more wards than he'd
thought. He tripped an alarm the moment he went into the girl's bathroom, but
he'd gotten down to the chamber in record time and left through another exit,
so he didn't run into anyone. He wasn't going to try that again anytime soon.
He'd gotten Lucius to relay an order to his son to get him a phial of Potter's
blood, which Draco had easily done by starting a fight with the rowdy
Gryffindor on the first day of school, punching him in the nose and summoning
the blood from the ground after Potter had gone to the hospital wing. Draco had
come away with a black eye and bruised knuckles, but at least he'd succeeded.
The potion worked, restoring the Dark Lord's features to what they were before
his soul was ripped from his body, and leaving him looking like his twenty-
something self as Tom Riddle. (The youthfulness he'd already managed via some
other experimental potions in which he'd been dabbling before he'd started
hunting the Potters.)
Except this last potion to restore his looks hadn't worked as well as he'd have
liked. Yes, he looked handsome and young, but for the color of his eyes. They
were his natural crystal blue most of the time, when he was calm, but they
tended to change color with his mood. They turned deep crimson when he was
enraged, a bright green - not quite as vivid as Potter's - when he was happy or
excited, a dark wintery grey when he was filled with a murderous intent. He
wasn't sure about other colors, he didn't feel many other emotions. He supposed
his eyes were an effect of using the blood of the same person he'd used in his
resurrection.
Lucius had asked why he needed more blood from Potter, thinking perhaps it was
the same reason as needing his blood for his resurrection, and Voldemort was
only too happy to tell him that no, it wasn't the same reason. He didn't need
the blood of his enemy this time, he needed the blood of a wizard with power
similar or equal to his own. And, since he would rather walk around looking
like a snake, than have anything of Dumbledore inside him, that left Potter.
Lucius didn't enjoy the subtle implication that Harry Potter was much more of a
wizard than Lucius himself or Lucius' son was. The Dark Lord always did enjoy
how easily Malfoy took things personally. The look of hate on his face whenever
it was implied that someone was better than he, even if indirectly, was just
too much fun not to instigate.
The Dark Lord sighed. "Such a pity that a bloodline as powerful as the Potters'
will end," he muttered to himself. Then, the idea finished forming in his head
and everything clicked into place and he took immediate notice of it. A slow
smirk spread across his face.
The Darkest Lord of all time then stood from his desk chair, grabbing the
latest copy of Potions Quarterly and turned to make his way to his very own
potions lab. He had potions to brew.
***** Christmas *****
Chapter Summary
     This chapter is a bit slow, but there are some very important parts,
     the rest is Christmas fluff.
Chapter Notes
     Thank you Lisa for beta and proofing.
"Speech."
'Thoughts.'
"~Parseltongue.~"
Spells and potions.
+Chapter 2: Christmas+
--Hogwarts Express, speeding towards London. Next day, Saturday 23 December
1995.--
Harry had fallen asleep in his compartment on the train, his head resting on
the cold window. Hermione sat beside Harry, reading yet another potions
journal, and Ron was across from her eating Chocolate Frogs. Neville Longbottom
and Luna Lovegood had joined them. Luna sat directly across from Harry,
silently watching him as if he was one of the most interesting things in the
world. Neville was talking to Ron about Quidditch, trying every now and then to
change the subject to plants and Herbology, and failing every time.
Harry whimpered in his sleep, dreaming a bizarre dream that wasn't quite a
nightmare, but it definitely wasn't a happy dream either. Hermione gently shook
him awake. "Harry, you're having another nightmare," she told him quietly. He
slowly woke up, opening his eyes and trying to focus his vision. When he did,
he jumped out of his skin because suddenly Luna Lovegood was right in front of
his face, their noses a mere inch apart. Her eyes were big and curious,
watching him like he was some new creature she could write about in the
Quibbler.
"Luna!" he shouted, holding a hand to his racing heart. "Don't do that!" He
attempted to glare at her, but she just stared and examined him, her brow
furrowing a little. "What?" he asked.
"Your dreams have changed," Luna stated. She stared at Harry for another
moment, Harry staring right back and not knowing how to respond to that. Sure
that last dream was different from usual but that didn't mean they would all be
changed. "Someone has changed their mind...," she said, then sat back and
turned to look out the window. "...almost."
Harry frowned at her. "Huh?" Harry stared at Luna, as she stared singing a
song. Harry absently noted that Luna was a very good singer as he tried to
remember his dream; it was about him and Voldemort, he knew that much, and
there was a sense of something... earth-shattering. He turned his gaze to stare
out the window; it was snowing outside. He sat listening to Luna sing a song
that was like a fairytale, his mind wandering to other things.
They all turned to stare at Ginny when she came into the compartment, slammed
the door, locked it, and drew the blinds. "Ginny?" Harry asked, as she just
stood there, back to the door as if she was waiting for something. Their
unasked questions were answered when Dean Thomas was heard running past their
door, shouting Ginny's name. After he'd gone, Ginny relaxed, then sidled over
to wiggle her way between Hermione and Harry. She sat quietly and used Harry as
a head rest. Harry didn't mind, obviously there was something bothering his
honorary sister and she needed comfort that wasn't one of her annoying blood
brothers. "You alright?", he asked her.
"Yeah," she said easily, then snuggled into his arm and closed her eyes,
appearing as though she was going to take a nap for the next couple of hours
until they arrived at King's Cross.
"Okay," Harry said, not pushing the subject and turning back to stare out the
lightly frosted window.
 
By the time they made it into London, they were mostly all asleep, Luna's
singing lulling them into a restful slumber. Only she and Hermione were still
awake.
As the train started to slow down, Hermione begrudgingly put her reading
material away and began waking her friends. Luna finished singing and stood to
take off her outer Wizarding robes. Ron and Neville woke slowly, both of them
grumbling, as Ginny and Harry woke easily but groggily.
Harry had another odd dream about him and Voldemort again, only this time it
was so messed up he was sure someone must have spiked his pumpkin juice before
he'd left the school. How else would you explain having a dream about him and
Voldemort sitting outside in a garden, watching a bunch of dark-haired, green-
eyed children running around? It was a nice dream, but Harry would have
appreciated it more if it had been someone, anyone, else sitting next to him in
that garden.
Harry shook off the the dream and grogginess, standing up to take off his outer
robes and stuff them into his trunk, as the train pulled into the station. He
grabbed his trunk and dragged it off the train, rushing a bit in his eagerness
to see his godfather. He knew full well that the Order wouldn't have been able
to keep him from coming to get him. He was proven right when he stepped onto
the platform and was tackled to the ground by a giant black dog. Over the sound
of his own laughter, he heard several people giggle at the scene, as his face
was thoroughly licked. "Let the poor boy up, won't you, Snuffles!" he heard
Remus Lupin's voice say.
Harry laughed as he sat up, hugging the mass of shaggy black fur with a big
smile on his face. He pulled away just in time to hear, "Nice mutt, Potter!"
Harry turned and saw Draco Malfoy sneering at him and Snuffles. Harry scowled
at him for a moment, then glanced at Snuffles and turned a mischievous grin
towards Malfoy, who furrowed his brow in apprehension.
"Why, thank you, Malfoy! He is a beauty, isn't he?" Harry told him loudly,
catching several peoples' attention. Malfoy grimaced as Harry continued. "He
has such soft fur, big shiny eyes, a tail that never stops wagging and...," he
paused long enough for Snuffles to lick his face again. "Really sharp teeth!"
Harry finished, grinning wolfishly, as Snuffles didn't miss a beat and bared
his teeth at Malfoy, growling and advancing on him. Malfoy shrieked and hid
behind his mother, who was scowling at Harry and the dog. Harry burst out
laughing and Snuffles turned back to Harry and licked him again. Harry's
laughter was joined by the laughter of the Weasleys and several other Order
members. Harry turned and smiled at them all, noticing that Remus was just
shaking his head at them, a small grin twitching at the corners of his mouth.
Harry and Snuffles grinned up at him sheepishly, as Remus reached to help Harry
up off the ground.
"Come along, you two!" Remus said, conjuring a leash that he put around
Snuffles' neck. Snuffles glared up at Remus, literally managing to make his
canine face fall into a frown. Harry stifled a laugh, before he turned to say
goodbye to Hermione, Luna and Neville. After saying hi s goodbyes, Harry and
the others - Snuffles, Remus, the Weasleys and the Order members - took the
Knight Bus to Number 11 Grimmauld Place and waited until the Bus left before
moving on to Number 12.
 
--Number 12 Grimmauld Place, London. Same Day.--
As soon as they got through the door, Sirius changed back into his human form
and engulfed his godson in a huge hug, making Harry smile and hug him back.
"I've missed you, Siri!" Harry said, relaxing into his godfather's arms.
"I've missed you too, pup!" Sirius answered, holding his godson in an almost
crushing embrace.
"Sirius, he still needs to breathe!" Remus told his best friend.
Sirius looked at Remus and then reluctantly let go of Harry. "Right!" Sirius
said, making Harry chuckle. "Well, I bet you're starving! Let's go make
dinner!" he exclaimed and grabbed Harry and Remus' hands and started tugging
them toward the kitchen.
"But I need to put my stuff away!" Harry told him.
"It can wait 'til later!"
"...Okay," Harry replied, and went with Sirius.
Molly Weasley followed them as the others went about settling in. "Sirius,
please let me make dinner. I don't want to clean up another one of your
messes!" she said as they stepped into the kitchen.
Sirius pouted and mumbled, "It's my kitchen, I can make a mess if I want to."
"Be that as it may, we would do better to allow those who know what they're
doing to cook tonight. The children need to be fed something edible!" Molly
argued. Sirius went to open his mouth to argue back when Harry spoke up.
"How about we just work together? That way we can get it done faster and make
sure the kitchen doesn't get destroyed," he suggested. Molly and Sirius looked
at him sheepishly and nodded, Remus smiling knowingly. Harry smiled and went
about the kitchen like he owned the place, looking to see what there was for
ingredients.
"We should have everything for a nice beef stew," Molly supplied, pulling out
ingredients and charming the vegetables to cut themselves up.
Harry smiled and kept looking, finding a cupboard full of confectionery
supplies and ingredients. "I'll make dessert then!" he said.
"Oh, Harry, don't be silly," Molly said, not even turning away from the stove
to look at him. "You go sit and relax, you're a teenage boy, you shouldn't even
be in the kitchen!" Harry frowned and Sirius scowled at Molly.
"If he wants to make dessert, then let him make dessert!" Sirius barked,
startling Molly.
Molly looked to Harry and gave him a soft smile. "Do you even know how to make
a dessert?"
"Yes," Harry said seriously. "I do all the cooking at the Dursley's." Molly
frowned. "And I like baking," Harry added with a smile. He looked back into the
cupboard and smiled wider. "There's everything I need for a chocolate cream
pie."
Sirius and Remus both perked up. "Chocolate?" Remus asked hopefully.
"Pie!" Sirius cheered. "Harry knows how to make pie!" and he grabbed his godson
in another bone crushing hug. "I love pie and I love you!"
"I can tell!" Harry giggled. And with that Molly conceded to let Harry make
dessert. Soon thereafter, dinner was finished. When everyone came down, the
kitchen was quickly filled to the breaking point; Harry, Remus and Sirius, all
of the Weasleys (minus Bill, Charlie and Percy), Tonks, Kingsley and a few
other Order members. They ate and talked loudly, several people exclaiming over
the delicious dessert pies, before Molly ordered everyone to bed.
Harry was about to follow Ron into the room they shared, when Sirius spoke up
behind him. "Pup, there's something I want to show you. Will you come?" Harry
turned and saw Sirius standing there fidgeting next to Remus at the top of the
steps. He nodded and told Ron that he'd be back soon, and then followed his
godfather and honorary godfather up another flight of stairs. They stopped at a
closed door that was just down the hall from Sirius' room. "Open it," Sirius
said, gesturing to the door. Harry did as told and opened the door into a dark
room, but as soon as the door was opened, candles lit themselves all over the
room, to illuminate a rather plain and simple but fairly large bedroom. There
was a big four poster bed, a small writing desk with a chair, and a wardrobe.
The big bay window had a window seat. There was also a door leading off to a
small en suite bathroom. Everything was in muted colors and light tan wood.
Harry turned to look at his godfather with a questioning face. Sirius smiled.
"When I was younger, this is one of the rooms my cousins would always use
whenever they came to visit. Remus and I spent a good deal of time cleaning and
fixing it up so it was livable. For you, your own bedroom whenever you're here.
We left it plain so you could decorate it yourself. I know you might not spend
a lot of time here but I was hoping you'd come and live with me once you're
seventeen and free to live wherever you want, since I can't seem to get
Dumbledore to let you come and live here before then." Sirius trailed off
uncertainly, fidgeting again when Harry just stared at him with a blank face.
Then all of sudden he had an armload of Harry when his godson threw himself
into his arms.
"Thank you, Siri!" Harry exclaimed with a slightly hoarse voice, trying not to
cry. "And of course I will come live with you!" Sirius laughed happily, hugging
Harry and picking him up and spinning around, making Harry laugh too. When
Sirius put him down, Harry kept his hold on him while he reached with one arm
to grab Remus and pull him into the hug as well, Remus happily embracing the
both of them. They stood like that for a few moments, just holding each other
before Sirius pulled away and smiled at Harry.
"Now, we can either wait until tomorrow to move your stuff up here, or we can
do it now. We can bring Ron and his stuff up as well, if you want. You two are
only sleeping on cots downstairs anyway. We can easily move one," Sirius
suggested excitedly.
Harry smiled again, his eyes still shiny from unshed tears. "I think we can
wait until morning, Ron's probably asleep by now anyway."
 
--Number 12 Grimmauld Place, London. Sunday 24 December 1995. Christmas Eve.--
The next day, they all woke to the smell of breakfast. Once everyone was up,
dressed and downstairs sitting around the table, Arthur Weasley spoke up. "If
any of you have any last minute shopping to do, we will be taking a trip to
Diagon Alley today. I know my children need a few things for school anyway," he
finished giving a knowing look to all of his red-headed brood. Sirius looked
like he was trying not to pout.
"I need to get a few things," Harry put in. "Couldn't get everything in
Hogsmeade. Can Snuffles come with?" Arthur sighed and nodded. After Sirius did
a little jig in his seat, breakfast passed fairly quietly, since the Weasley
boys were all still groggy with sleep.
When they finished, they all bundled up and flooed to the Leaky Cauldron. After
a quick stop at Gringott's they went about their shopping, the Weasley children
being allowed to wander on their own, while Harry seemed to have an unwanted
entourage consisting of Snuffles, Remus, Arthur, Mad-Eye, Kingsley, and Tonks.
The other Order members mostly spread out to blend in with the crowd while
still keeping an eye on everything. Harry was trying not to show his
irritation. SIrius was having a little more trouble concealing his own, as his
ears were drooped and the tip of his tail was flicking in annoyance. Harry
couldn't help thinking that it would be more practical to have him accompanied
by fewer people, as he wouldn't stand out as much then, but there really wasn't
anything he could do about it. Unfortunately, his entourage also had people
gawking at him, making him wish he had his invisibility cloak. Instead he
focused on where he was going and absently petting Snuffles' head, making his
drooping ears perk up a bit and his tail wag.
Harry made a few stops in various shops, spending the most time in Flourish and
Blotts picking out a few books for Hermione and one or two for Remus and Sirius
- who thankfully stayed outside at the entrance during that particular stop. He
was feeling exceedingly generous this Christmas, which was saying something
because he's always generous. He'd bought Ron his own Firebolt since he was
still able to play Quidditch, and a couple gift certificates from Madam
Malkin's for Molly and Ginny - hoping they'd enjoy some time together buying
themselves new clothes. (He made a mental note to include a message with their
gifts to tell them why he gave it to them, so they didn't think he thought
there was anything wrong with the clothes they already had!) He was going to
give Fred and George their gift in private (a fat sack of galleons), so their
mother wouldn't know where they were getting all the money for their Weasley's
Wizard Wheezes endeavor - in the spirit of investment, of course. He'd bought a
few simple gifts for his other friends, classmates and professors in Hogsmeade
on their last trip there, and he stopped at the owl post office to send them
off because he couldn't send them all with Hedwig. When they were done in
Diagon Alley, they ate lunch at the Leaky Cauldron.
After some begging, Harry was allowed to venture into Muggle London with Remus,
Snuffles (with another leash that he was not happy about), Mad-Eye (with his
crooked bowler hat), and Tonks, to get what he needed for Arthur (though he
didn't tell them that was what he needed). While the others went back to
Grimmauld Place. Harry and his entourage walked out of the Leaky Cauldron and
down the street leading to the Muggle shopping district. He was made to hold
Remus' hand as they walked in Muggle London, so no one could just apparate in
and kidnap him before anyone could react, but he really didn't have a problem
holding Remus' hand. He held onto Snuffles' leash with his other hand.
While they were walking, Harry felt a shiver go through him, making him feel
like he was being watched. He faltered a step and turned to look behind him but
he didn't see anyone out of the ordinary; then again, anyone who might be
following him would be disguised. He turned back to look at Mad-Eye who was
ahead of him.
"Hey, Mad-Eye, are there other Order members walking around out here keeping an
eye on us?" he asked the old Auror.
"So, you noticed that we're being followed too," Mad-Eye said nonchalantly. "No
other Order members, we're in the Muggle world, didn't think Death Eaters would
follow us out here, especially in so small of a group. There are three of them,
can't tell who they are. Let's make this trip quick, Potter, and get you back
to safety before something ugly happens." Harry nodded and did make his
shopping go as quickly as possible. Luckily in the part of London they were in,
he was able to find shops that had what he needed all on the same shopping
strip.
He bought Arthur a few books on electronics and mechanics, as well as some
Muggle electrician's tools and even stopped in a pawn shop and grabbed some old
small electronics; a hand held radio, a set of walkie talkies, a mini travel
television - things he knew Arthur could use without having to subscribe to
some kind of service provider. In the process, he also got prepaid Muggle
credit cards for Molly and Ginny, so they could do some shopping out in the
Muggle world too. By the time he was done he'd spent several thousand galleons
on the Weasleys alone. Yeah, he was spoiling them rotten this Christmas, but
for everything they'd done for him, they deserved everything he could give them
and more. And it wasn't like he didn't have the money to spend on them, he
hadn't even made a dent in his bank account and that was just his trust vault.
He didn't know how much was in the Potter family vaults but the goblins had
told him his trust vault was pocket change compared to his family vaults.
Considering how much he'd spent, he was mentally preparing himself for the
inevitable backlash of the Weasleys trying to give their presents back. 'Well,
too bad, either they take them or I throw them away!' he told himself mentally.
Well, he only intended to tell them that, he wouldn't really throw them away
but he was NOT taking anything back.
As he was shopping, he'd still felt that he was being watched the whole time,
sending chills up his spine. Remus and Mad-Eye never left his side, while
Snuffles and Tonks kept their eyes on the entrances of the stores Harry went
into. That same feeling of being watched followed them all the way to Grimmauld
Place. Harry thanked whatever gods were out there for the Fidelius Charm over
Number 12.
When they got back and up into Harry's new bedroom, Remus pulled all of Harry's
shrunken packages out of his pocket and resized them. Harry and Sirius went
about wrapping Ron's present and stowed it under the bed before they moved all
of Harry's and Ron's things up into the new room. Instead of the cot from
downstairs, Sirius had Remus buy a single bed in Diagon Alley that they set up
in Harry's room and pushed up against the wall. Ron was going to stay
downstairs in the room he and Harry had shared but his mother decided it would
be better if he moved up there too, to make room for other people to stay if
they needed to. Harry didn't mind sharing his new room, it was plenty big
enough and he was used to sharing a living space with Ron anyway.
Ron and Harry helped each other wrap their gifts, and after they'd wrapped the
majority, Ron was looking at Harry suspiciously. He'd noticed how much money
Harry had spent on the rest of his family and he knew Harry well enough to know
that Harry would have bought him something expensive too.
"What is it?" Ron blurted out after he'd watched Harry put Molly and Ginny's
gifts into envelopes with short notes attached to them.
Harry looked up and smiled innocently. "What is what?"
"What did you get me?"
Harry smirked. "You'll just have to wait and see!"
Ron frowned and sighed. "Now, I'm not going to get any sleep tonight, from
wondering what it is," he grumped. Harry laughed.
After they'd all decorated the Christmas tree and had dinner, they all went to
bed. Ron was asleep before his head hit the pillow.
 
--Slytherin Castle, somewhere in Ireland. Monday 25 December 1995. 00:45 a.m.--
It was getting late in the evening, so late that it was morning, and Lord
Voldemort was in his personal lounge, sitting in a wingback armchair in front
of the fire, nursing a glass of Firewhiskey. The fact that it was Christmas
never even occurred to him. He was waiting for a certain few Death Eaters to
check in. After receiving word earlier in the day stating that Potter was seen
in Diagon Alley, he'd sent these three Death Eaters out to follow him.
'Potter's probably at home in bed by now, what is taking them so long to get
back to me?' he thought, imagining all the things he was going to do to said
Death Eaters once they got there. "Luffy!" he called.
A second later a house elf popped up right in front of him. "What can Luffy be
doing for Master?" Luffy the elf asked.
"How is Wormtail doing with those potions? He better not have messed them up!"
the Dark Lord warned.
"The potions are doing good, Master. Luffy is watching Mister Wormtail closely
and making sure he follows the instructions, Master!"
The Dark Lord narrowed his eyes. "I will check your work later. If I am
satisfied with this setup, I will have you and Wormtail tend to those potions
until they are completed."
"Yes, Master! Can Luffy be getting anything for you?" the elf asked
enthusiastically.
"No, you go and focus on those potions with Wormtail. In fact, I don't want you
doing anything else, unless I say otherwise. Go now," he commanded and the elf
popped away after bowing very low.
It wasn't long after Luffy had left that another house elf popped in and
announced the arrival of three of his Death Eaters; the ones he'd been waiting
on. When the three Lestranges - fresh out of Azkaban - walked through the door,
the Dark Lord already had his wand out and aimed at them. He sent the Cruciatus
Curse at them, holding all three of them under it at the same time. He listened
to them scream for a little over a minute before he released them.
"I do not like waiting on other people! It's past midnight, what has delayed
you?!" he demanded, his eyes blood red in his anger.
Bellatrix was the first to get back on her feet and regain her voice. "We're
sorry, My Lord. We followed Potter and the Weasleys back to their dwelling, but
the Order hindered us from leaving as quickly as we would have liked. Killed
two of them before we were able to get away. They somehow managed to corner us.
The place is under the Fidelius Charm, so we couldn't see it but I know the
address! It's one of the old houses in London that belongs to the Black family.
I visited there many times as a child. It lies in a complex called Grimmauld
Place, where the buildings appear as though they are misnumbered. There's one
missing between Number 11 and Number 13," she finished with a wicked smile,
showing her blackened teeth. "So, we know where he and the Order are, we just
can't get at him while he's inside," she added with a slight pout.
The Dark Lord watched as Rodolphus and Rabastan finally composed themselves.
"Is that all?" he asked.
"Yes, My Lord," Rodolphus answered. "It was just a simple shopping trip to
Diagon Alley and Muggle London. Potter was heavily guarded the whole time, so
we had a hard time keeping the Order from spotting us. We followed them more
closely once they went into the Muggle World, when most of their number split
away from Potter. Moody saw us with that eye of his, and the werewolf Lupin
smelled us, but aside from them, Potter was the only one to notice we were
there. He didn't see us, but he could sense us. Potter is a very powerful young
man to be able to feel us even with all the ambient magic around London and the
magic that was radiating from the wards around Diagon Alley."
This made the Dark Lord smile (well, more like a smirk. Lord Voldemort does not
smile!), scaring his followers. That observation from Rodolphus only cemented
Voldemort's choice to use Harry Potter as a breeding partner and, hopefully, a
future Consort... with a little coaxing of course, maybe a love potion or two
and a few well placed spells. He would definitely put up a fight at first but
the Dark Lord could handle that, might even enjoy 'handling' that. "Yes, his
magic is quite extraordinary, isn't it?" he admitted, changing the subject in
his mind before it could get anywhere closer to something that would put him in
a 'hard' situation in front of his Death Eaters.
It had been bothering him a little that since his resurrection he'd been more
easily distracted by things like the needs of the flesh. He was focused on
finding his way to immortality but couldn't help but want to make plans to
continue his line should he fail. And, now that it was possible to use him as
the other parent, Potter seemed like the perfect choice for that, with his
powerful and wealthy bloodlines and a few world famous ancestors. Ancestors
famous for their powerful magic and fierceness in battle; the Potter family
just seemed to be bred for battle and strength. So, it only stood to reason
that future generations would be blessed with that power as well, they'd just
need the right nurturing. It only made sense for him to want to produce an
heir, since he was no closer to achieving actual immortality; short of getting
a vampire to bite him (something he'd not ruled out yet, disturbingly enough).
He had the secret to eternal youth, but he wanted to be truly immortal;
invincible; undying. He could look twenty years old for the next millennia, but
what good was that if he could die as easily as someone stabbing him in the
back with a knife?
The Lestranges weren't sure if they were supposed to answer their Lord. "My
Lord, should we stake out the location? Wait for him to come out again and
kidnap him? Kill him?" Bellatrix suggested.
Voldemort looked at them sharply, a deadly glint in his eyes. "What have I said
about Potter?" He pulled out his wand again and started twirling it in his
fingers threateningly.
"That he's yours, My Lord," she answered in a small voice.
"And you'd do well to remember that!" The Dark Lord snarled. "No one touches
him, unless it is to bring him to me, unharmed!" After composing himself once
more, he returned his wand to its holster and continued. "Besides, my plans
concerning Potter have changed ...somewhat." Bellatrix looked like she wanted
to ask what changed, but she didn't want to upset her Lord again. "You may go,"
he dismissed them, waving his hand and opening the door behind them,
wandlessly. They bowed and left.
The Dark Lord sat for a few more minutes, ruminating and finishing his drink.
He wondered if he should get the goblins at Gringott's to perform the spell
that reveals hidden bloodlines; on himself and Potter. After all, he only knew
he was Slytherin's heir through word of mouth and his Parselmouth abilities, he
had no idea who else he might be related to, besides the Peverells. And
Potter's mother was a Mudblood. No one knew why or how they came about. Some
said they might be descended from Squibs and, if so, perhaps there were other
bloodlines there that might have been forgotten. He'd have to test that theory.
Maybe he should order his people to bring him some Mudbloods to do a few
experiments on? Also, he thought he should have Lucius Malfoy bring him all of
his books on Wizarding genealogy and, perhaps get someone to bring him what the
Department of Mysteries had on it as well.
The Dark Lord allowed himself to snort. The Department of Mysteries. Dumbledore
was still under the impression that he was after the prophecy about himself and
Potter.
'Let the old man think that. I've already gotten the prophecy and heard it; it
pays to have a few Ministry people in my service simply with the offer of a few
extra galleons in their pockets. The Ministry really should pay their employees
better, then they wouldn't be so easy to bribe for information,' he thought to
himself.
As far as he was concerned, that prophecy was fulfilled the night he tried to
kill Harry Potter in his crib. Another factor in his decision not to kill
Potter right away. And, if he was honest with himself, he'd been mesmerized by
those Avada Kedavra green eyes, when they'd watched him rise from the cauldron,
filled with terror and pain and dread.
With that thought, he was reminded of what he planned on doing to Potter once
he got hold of him. Smirking, he downed the last of his drink and went to bed,
intent on allowing himself a few fantasies before he went to sleep.
 
--Number 12 Grimmauld Place, London. Monday 25 December 1995. Christmas Day.--
Harry awoke with a start early Christmas morning. He sighed and lifted his
blankets to look at the mess in his pants and on his bedding. But that didn't
bother him so much as the dreams that caused it! How?! How could he have a wet
dream about Voldemort fucking him into the mattress?! How could he dream about
sucking the Dark Lord off?! Why would he dream that? WHY?! There must be
something seriously wrong with him, if he kept having these... not-so-
nightmarish dreams about a man who wanted to kill him. A man around seventy
years old who looked like a snake!
'Wait... but he looked like he did in his diary, not snake face,' he realized.
Harry pondered that for a minute before shaking himself and wondering what to
do about the mess in his bed. He wasn't at school, so he couldn't just vanish
it or leave it for the house elves to clean up; and at the Dursley's, he's the
one who did all the washing anyway. But here, he'd either have to get Kreacher
to clean his sheets or clean them himself. The other option was telling one of
the adults about it. He cringed. If he washed them himself, they'd ask why he
was doing laundry anyway. Could he trust Sirius to help him and not to make fun
of him for it? No. Then he'd ask who he dreamt about, too. Remus? Arthur? He
didn't want to ask Molly, even though she'd probably seen her share of crusty
sheets with all the sons she'd had but... Ew! No, he couldn't tell her! Could
the Ministry detect underage wandless magic? He could try that... but then if
they could detect it, they'd cart him off to court again. Imagine having to
explain to the Wizengamot that he'd used underage magic because he was too
embarrassed to ask an adult for help cleaning up his messy sheets! He could see
it now! Front page news! "Boy-Who-Lived? Boy-Who-Orgasmed!: Harry Potter in
court today for using underage magic to clean up the remnants of an erotic
dream!" Harry put his face in his palms and shook his head, dragging his hands
down his face as he sighed. He grabbed his glasses, put them on and glanced at
the clock, which read 04:44 a.m. Then he looked at Ron who was out cold and
snoring very loudly. He sighed again and resolved to just go find Remus; the
early riser and the one who was most likely to help him quietly, without making
fun of him or trying to give him 'the talk'.
After cleaning himself up and getting dressed in comfortable baggy clothes, he
went down and found Remus in the kitchen. "Hey, Remmy!" he said as he came into
the room.
Remus looked up at him and smiled. "Morning, Harry. You're up early."
Harry blushed furiously. "Yeah, about that... can I ask for your help with
something?" he mumbled.
Remus frowned. "Of course. What do you need help with?" Harry's blush deepened.
"You alright, Harry?"
"Yeah, it's just... this dream," he trailed off and swallowed. "I had this
dream... and it was... and I'm not at school so I can't...," he kept trying to
say it, his hands waving around, trying to articulate what he needed help with
but it just wasn't happening in a coherent way.
Remus just smiled at him a little sadly, taking pity on him and guessing what
he was going on about by his deep blush and the 'dream' mentioned. Also, with
his werewolf senses, he could smell the pheromones coming off of him. "You had
a wet dream and you can't clean it up yourself and you don't want anyone else
to know about it." Harry nodded quickly, not able to look Remus in the eye, his
face bright red. Remus shook his head in exasperation, remembering James acting
the same way in the mornings sometimes at school. Even though he could clean it
up himself at the time, he still blushed all the way up to his ears all
morning. "Okay, Cub, I'll go freshen up your bed. Why don't you get yourself
some tea?"
Harry nodded. "Thank you. Is anyone else up?"
"No, just you and I," Remus answered as he stood up.
"Okay," Harry said absently, still blushing red as a beet. "I'm gonna start
making breakfast, everyone will be waking up soon anyway."
"Okay," Remus said from the doorway. "I'll be right back."
Harry nodded and turned to start making breakfast for everyone. Remus returned
five minutes later and helped him cook, making massive amounts of everything,
just like Molly did every morning. Twenty minutes after Harry and Remus started
cooking, Molly came rushing into the room spewing apologies for not waking up
in time to make them breakfast, then tried to finish the cooking. But Harry
shushed her and sat her down at the table with a cup of tea. "It's Christmas,
you take a break this morning. Think of it as another Christmas present from
Remus and I." She reluctantly complied with a small smile and a thank you.
Remus even took a moment to conjure a couple cushions to put behind Molly and
Harry coaxed her to put her feet up, putting another cushion under her feet.
She looked to be close to tears just from this little gesture from the both of
them.
It didn't take long for sleepy faces to start appearing in the doorway and
trudging over to the table to sit down. Almost everyone was in the room and had
started eating before anyone was awake enough to notice who was doing the
cooking. Harry smiled innocently at all the faces of his friends and surrogate
family members, as he put another plate of bacon in front of the Twins. Remus
chuckled at all their faces as they all watched the two of them and looked at
Molly oddly, who was trying not to chuckle at the look on her husband's and
children's faces.
"Have we grown extra heads?" Harry asked them all, pouring Sirius another cup
of coffee. Harry turned to Remus. "No, you look normal. Have I grown an extra
head?"
"No, you look the same as always," Remus laughed. "I don't know what they're
staring at. You'd think they'd never seen men cooking at a stove before." Harry
and Remus laughed together and finished up, sitting down to eat their own
breakfast.
They all finished eating and Molly insisted on cleaning up. Then they all went
up to the sitting room where the Christmas tree and all the presents were. They
were barely all in the room before the brightly colored wrapping paper started
flying in every direction.
Before opening his presents, Harry spoke up. "I would just like to say to a few
of you before hand that, no, I will not take any presents back! Either you
accept them, or they go in the rubbish bin!" With that said, he sat down and
started opening his presents. The first thing was a new Weasley sweater and
package of homemade fudge. The sweater he put on immediately, with a big smile
on his face, then stuffed a big chunk of fudge in his mouth. Harry wasn't sure
Molly would ever understand how much he loved and appreciated the homemade
gifts she always gave him. After a minute he could FEEL the eyes staring at him
from all sides. He smirked and continued to open his presents; a book on grey
defensive magic from Remus, a box of pranks from the Twins, another book on
quidditch from Ron, a book about runes from Hermione with a note that told him
he HAD to learn about them because they were too useful and fascinating for him
not to, a leather necklace with a snitch pendant from Ginny which he also put
on immediately, a new photo album from Sirius filled with pictures of the
Marauders, and there were a few other things from his classmates. Finally he
looked up and noticed he was still being stared at by all the redheads, save
for the Twins who were watching him suspiciously while holding the card he'd
given them that told them he'd give them their present in private. "What?" he
asked. Then he noticed Ron was looking a little grey, he almost looked like he
was going to faint as he stared at his new Firebolt. A second later, Ron did
just that; he fainted and crumpled sideways on the sofa he was occupying beside
Tonks, and Harry couldn't hold back the laugh. They left him there to wake up
on his own but Tonks started to fan Ron with some folded up wrapping paper,
hoping to sooth him enough to wake up.
"Harry, dear, are you sure about these gifts?" Molly asked. "Weren't they
expensive?"
"It's nothing you guys don't deserve," he told her simply, making Molly go
misty-eyed for the second time that day. Then Ginny flew into his arms and
hugged him, squeezing him so tight that he felt a few joints pop - he was
surprised she was that strong.
"THANK YOU!" she yelled, then let go and skipped over to her mother to compare
their gifts, leaving Harry to sway a little at the sudden loss.
"No problem," he answered.
Molly smiled a little uncertainly and looked at her daughter's present to see
it was the same as her own. Arthur nodded and then couldn't stop himself from
immediately starting to flip through the books and tinkering with the
electronic devices. The Twins, however, stood up and walked over to Harry and
grabbed him by the arms, then started dragging him from the room.
"Couldn't you two wait just a few more minutes?" Harry asked them.
"No," was the unison response he got. Remus watched Harry get dragged from the
room bemusedly.
After a moment, Harry turned and told Remus and Sirius that he'd be right back,
then started leading the Twins from the room. He quickly went up the stairs and
to his bedroom, where he retrieved the bag of gold galleons from his trunk. He
turned and kept it hidden behind his back for a moment. "Just think of it as an
investment," he told them with a smirk and handed it to them. The bag had
featherlight, expansion and silencing spells on it, so the Twins didn't know
what it was until they opened it. When they did, their jaws dropped and they
just stared at the shiny gold in the bag. Harry bit his lip to stifle another
laugh, but ended up snorting anyway.
"Is it real?" Fred asked.
"Yes, Fred, it's real," Harry answered.
"How much is there?" George asked.
"George, there are 10,000 galleons in that bag," Harry stated simply. "All of
it is yours." The Twins looked up at him in disbelief, then Harry let out a
yelp as they both tackled him backward onto the bed. The Twins then proceeded
to pepper his face with kisses as they squeezed him between the two of them.
"Oy! Knock it off!" The Twins backed off and let Harry sit up, but then George
grabbed Harry's face in his hands and planted a big, long, wet kiss to his
lips. When he pulled away, Harry's eyes were the size saucers and his jaw
dropped. "George, why did you-?" he started, but then Fred grabbed his face and
did the same thing, only he one-upped his brother and flicked his tongue into
Harry's agape mouth for a few seconds. When Fred pulled away, Harry was as red
as a cherry. "Why do you two keep kissing me?!"
"Oh, come on, Harry!" George said.
"You really think-" Fred started.
"-we didn't notice-"
"-that you're just a tiny bit-"
"-bent!" they finished together.
Harry's blush deepened and his brow furrowed. "How can you know that, when I'm
not even sure about it myself?" he asked petulantly.
"So, you're going to tell us that kiss with Cho Chang went well?" George asked.
"How do you-?" Harry started.
"Saw the whole thing!" Fred told him.
Harry put his face in his palms as it burned even more. At this rate, Harry was
sure his face would be red for the rest of his life.
"So, what do you say, Harry?" George asked.
"As a thank you for this more than generous loan," Fred continued, tossing the
bag up and down.
"Want to do a bit of experimenting to confirm your bentness?" George finished.
Harry glowered at them. "First of all, it's not a loan. It's a gift. And
second, we can't do that here, in the same house as your parents! And my
godparents!" he hissed the last part.
Fred and George each put a hand on Harry's shoulders. "But you see, Harry, we
can." Fred said.
"See, Fred and I have our own room here," George continued.
"And we're seventeen," Fred added.
"Which means we can use magic,"
"And any silencing or locking charms you so desire,"
"And any other 'bedroom' spells you might want to try!" George proclaimed. Now
Harry was just bright red all over.
"I think we broke him," Fred told his brother.
George nodded. "You know, Harry, we could always wait until we're back at
school,"
"And find one of those handy hidden rooms to use,"
"So that Fred and I may have our wicked way with you!" George finished. Harry
stared at them, his jaw slack.
"Well, you think about!" Fred relented, as he and his brother stood up and
walked over to the door.
"You know where to find us whenever you're ready!" They said in unison and left
Harry there to boil in embarrassment.
TBC
***** Twins *****
Chapter Summary
     Harry gets closer to Luna. Harry/Fred/George LEMON. Voldemort seethes
     in fury.
     EXPLICIT CONTENT!
Chapter Notes
     Thank you Lisa for beta and proofing.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
"Speech."
'Thoughts.'
"~Parseltongue.~"
Spells and potions.
+Chapter 3: Twins+
--Hogwarts Express, speeding towards Hogsmeade. Friday 5 January 1996.--
Harry sat in his compartment with Ron, Hermione, Fred and George, and were
joined shortly thereafter by Lee Jordan and Neville Longbottom. Harry and the
Weasley boys were telling Hermione all about their holiday, while she in turn
told them about hers.
The rest of the Christmas holidays at Grimmauld Place had gone by fairly
uneventfully. Beside the few drunken adults to deal with on New Year's, there
was just the continued dreams about Voldemort and the happenstance of Molly and
Ginny dragging Harry out shopping with them. He tried to tell them that he'd
intended that they have a day to themselves and enjoy eachother's company, but
they stood firm with the promise that if he didn't come with and buy himself
some new clothes as well, then they were just going to spend their Christmas
presents picking out clothes for him. So, he went with them and was able to get
away with only bringing Snuffles and Remus as bodyguards. He knew there were a
few other Order members lurking around keeping an eye on him as well, though.
He really didn't mind giving his opinions to Ginny and Molly when they modeled
clothes in front of the mirror, though they stopped asking after he kept
telling them that everything looked lovely on them. Molly and Ginny each ended
up with whole new wardrobes. Harry walked away with several new Wizarding
robes, both for school and casual, that were spelled to grow in size as he did;
a couple pairs of new shoes; and several new Muggle shirts and blue jeans, some
that fit him perfectly and some that were a size bigger for when he went
through his next growth spurt. Ginny even talked Harry into getting a new pair
of glasses, doing away with those round wire rims and getting a new, more
trendy pair. They were rectangular with a clear, smoky black plastic frame.
Then, they even had the gall to drag him to a salon, where his hair was washed
and trimmed (and stared at by the hair stylists because none of them could get
his hair to behave, no matter what any of them did).
After a couple days, Harry had decided that buying the new Muggle clothes and
new glasses was a bad idea, because the Twins didn't seem to be able to keep
their eyes off of him once they saw him in clothes that fit right and showed
him off. To Harry, it was a little unnerving, and flattering at the same time.
The stares we was getting from the other students and the people on the
platform were worse than they had been before; they didn't STOP staring now! He
should have just stuck to Dudley's old cast offs.
After everyone had finished catching up with each other on the train, they went
on to small talk and Hermione pulled out a huge book. Harry turned to stare out
the window, watching the country go by. Most of everything he saw was covered
with snow, the rest in the process of getting another coat of the fluttering
white powder. Half way through the trip, the compartment door opened and they
all turned to see who it was. Then the compartment was filled with the sound of
groans of dismay.
"Heard you got new glasses, Potter!" Draco Malfoy said, almost jubilantly.
"Finally done away with those disgusting round wire things? They did nothing to
enhance that troll face of yours."
Harry sighed and met his gaze, snarky comment already on his tongue. "Is it
part of your itinerary for every trip on the Express to come and bother me? Or
is it just a coincidence that every time you seem to become overwhelmed with
the sudden need to see my charming self?" he asked with a wink. Snickers went
around the other occupants and Malfoy went red in the face. He didn't even
respond, just stepped out, slammed the door, and left. Harry grinned with
satisfaction as the others burst out laughing.
"That was perfect, Harry!" Ron wheezed between laughs.
"It was, wasn't it?" Harry asked rhetorically, then turned back to watching the
snowy Scottish highlands go by.
Hermione smirked. "And I don't know what he was talking about, but you've
always been fanciable, Harry," she said off-handedly, not even taking her eyes
off her book.
Harry looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "Thanks, 'Mione!"
"You're welcome!" she replied and flipped the page.
"I wonder if his silent retreat has anything to do with the delicious visage
that Harry presented to him upon his entrance?" Fred asked, sounding wistful.
Harry's face started burning furiously.
"I'm not sure, Fred!" George answered.
"Now, that you mention it," Lee said, suddenly turning an observing eye on
Harry. "He is looking rather dashing." Harry's red face darkened.
"Did you see the light blush on Malfoy's face before he left?" Fred asked.
"I think Harry might have gotten himself another obsessed fan," George said.
Harry couldn't help but grimace. "I really hope that isn't the case. Can you
imagine if Malfoy suddenly started coming on to me?" Everyone else cringed and
shivered.
 
--Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, somewhere in Northern Scotland.
First weeks of the second school semester. 1996.--
The weeks after the end of the winter holidays went by quickly and fairly well,
even with all the detentions with Umbridge and all the staring coming from his
classmates. Really, if Harry had known cleaning up his appearance would have
this effect, he wouldn't have done it. Nothing awful happened, except for a
failed date with Cho and a few more articles from Rita Skeeter. Harry didn't
even want to think about the Occlumency lessons and all the effort he had to
put in just to keep Snape from seeing his most recent dreams. And the dreams!
They kept coming, becoming more vivid as time went on, always erotic and
disturbing all at once.
On the upside, he'd gotten a little closer to Luna. He'd learned that she was
an amazing singer and songwriter, and that she wanted to write and perform
music in the future while moonlighting articles for the Quibbler. He'd found
all this out when he had gone wandering after classes one Friday and decided to
go to the Room of Requirement to maybe blow off some steam by making some
dummies look like Umbridge and then blowing up their heads. But when he'd
gotten to the seventh floor, the door was already there. He'd gone inside and
found Luna sitting at a piano, playing and singing her heart out.
'The looking glass, so shiny and new,
How quickly the glamour fades,
I start spinning, slipping out of time,
Was that the wrong draught to take?
You made a deal, and now it seems you have to offer up,
But will it ever be enough?
It's not enough.
Here I am, a rabbit hearted girl,
Frozen in the headlamps,
It seems I've made the final sacrifice.
We raise it up, this offering, we raise it up,
This is a gift, it comes with a price,
Who is the lamb and who is the knife?
Midas is king and he holds me so tight,
And turns me to gold in the sunlight.
I look around, but I can't find you,
If only I could see your face,
Instead of rushing towards the skyline,
I wish that I could just be brave,
I must become a lion hearted girl,
Ready for a fight,
Before I make the final sacrifice!
We raise it up, this offering, we raise it up,
This is a gift, it comes with a price,
Who is the lamb and who is the knife?
Midas is king and he holds me so tight,
And turns me to gold in the sunlight.
Raise it up, raise it up,
Raise it up, raise it up,
And in the spring I shed my skin,
And it blows away with the changing wind,
The waters turn from blue to red,
As towards the sky I offer it.
This is a gift, it comes with a price,
Who is the lamb and who is the knife?
Midas is king and he holds me so tight,
And turns me to gold in the sunlight.
This is a gift, it comes with a price,
Who is the lamb and who is the knife?
Midas is king and he holds me so tight,
And turns me to gold in the sunlight.
This is a gift, it comes with a price,
Who is the lamb and who is the knife?
Midas is king and he holds me so tight,
And turns me to gold in the sunlight.
This is a gift!'
As she finished singing, Harry had started to clap. The song was so amazing and
Luna's voice was so beautiful - he had to clap! Though, he couldn't help but
think that the lyrics were a little foreboding, especially coming from someone
he had a hunch had Seer blood in her veins. The song reminded him of the war
going on a bit too well. 'Maybe that's what she had in mind when she wrote it?'
he'd thought, after he'd seen the hand drawn sheet music.
He'd startled her with his clapping, but when she saw who it was, she'd smiled
a very fond smile at Harry and he smiled right back. "Did you write that all on
your own?" he'd asked, coming over to look at the music closer.
"Yes," she'd said. "I've written this song just today."
Harry had looked at her incredulously. "You wrote a song like that in one
day?!"
She'd nodded. "Yes, when the billywigs give me the inspiration, I've been known
to write more than one song in a day."
"You've written other things?" he had asked, sitting on the piano bench beside
her.
"Of course! I love writing and singing music. More than I like writing articles
for Daddy's magazine."
After that, they'd chatted a little more about Luna's future, and Harry'd
deflected questions about his own because he really didn't know what would
happen with his future and he wasn't sure it would be worth making any plans
when he'd almost certainly die sometime soon. Eventually, instead of blowing up
Umbridge dummies to make himself feel better, Luna had started teaching him to
play the piano. He'd gone along with it and found it fun and freeing. Though,
not nearly as freeing as flying through the air chasing a snitch. And he
thought he was pretty good at playing the piano, if anyone asked. Which Luna
did, and she agreed that he was pretty good for a beginner.
He'd managed to coax her into performing one of her songs in front of the DA
after they were done training one night. It wasn't the same song as before; she
sang one that she called the Drumming Song. The applause and whistles from her
friends and classmates actually had her blushing. The other girls seemed to
really love the song, as they were the only ones that initially realized it was
a love song. The boys felt stupid when the girls had to explain it to them in
chastising voices. Harry was trying not to laugh the whole time his 'students'
were debating if it was a love song or just a song about a crazy person who
heard drums in their head. He wasn't sure how to feel about being the only boy
who did notice it was a love song without it being explained to him.
"This is why boys are hopeless," Ginny had said, the other girls readily
agreeing with her.
 
The other upside (though Harry was still debating if it really was an upside),
was that Fred and George had started openly showing their interest in Harry.
They had surprised him one evening when they'd sort of kidnapped him from the
corridor, while he was walking beside Ron and Hermione, dragged him into one of
the hidden passageways behind one of the suits of armor, and then snogged the
life out of him.
"Oy, George, shove off! It's my turn!" Fred had hissed and shoved his brother
out of the way, breaking the kiss between George and Harry. Then Fred had
kissed him, not even giving Harry a chance to argue that he wasn't sure they
should be kissing him at all. George had just shrugged, gone up behind Harry
and starting licking his neck and nibbling on his ears. Their hands had been
all over the place, undoing buttons on his robes, slipping under his shirt,
fondling his arse and other such places. Then the red-haired devils had left
him there in the passageway with a hard-on, bruised lips and looking thoroughly
debauched - cackling as they went. He thought maybe it had been revenge for him
leaving them wondering if he was going to ask them to let him experiment.
When he had peeked out into the corridor again - hoping to be able to make a
beeline to the nearest restroom without anyone noticing, and Harry had seen Ron
and Hermione waiting for him, and he'd blushed as red as a tomato and ducked
behind the suit of armor again to deal with his problem. Which was hard to do
after he'd seen Hermione notice him peeking out and raised a knowing eyebrow at
him, which meant she'd known what he was doing back there.
The Twins had cornered him a couple times after their DA lessons too, doing the
same thing to him. It was like they were trying to wind him up into finally
giving in. It was working. He was on a hair trigger at the slightest brush from
the two twin demons, so much so that it was carrying over to whenever other
boys touched him too.
Which brought him to his current situation.
They'd just finished another session with the DA and Harry asked the Twins to
stay behind. The others left; Hermione, the last out, gave Harry a knowing
smirk before she shut the door behind her. Of course, she would notice how
jumpy he was whenever the Twins were around lately.
Once the door was closed, Harry started fidgeting as the Twins turned to look
at him with a glint in their eyes.
"So, what did you want with us, dearest Harry?" George asked, smirking. He and
Fred came up on either side of Harry and slung their arms around his shoulders,
waiting expectantly for him to speak.
"Well, uh," he started. "I-I'm sure you know what I want already."
"Nope," Fred said.
"Doesn't work that way, Harry!" George continued.
"You have to say it!" they said together.
The Saviour of the Wizarding World blushed all the way up to his ears, but
stayed silent. Until those hands on his shoulders started sliding down until
eventually each cupping one of his arse cheeks, groping lazily. "Oh, sod it,"
he muttered to himself before speaking up. "Fuck me!" After those words came
out of his mouth, he couldn't believe he'd said it and so, lowered his burning
face into his hands, as he'd become accustomed to doing when embarrassed.
The two Weasleys grinned broadly and each took one of Harry's hands, pulling
them away from his face, just as Harry winced when a sharp pain went through
his head. But Harry forgot about it when it disappeared right away and he was
faced with grinning Weasley Twins.
"We'd be delighted," Fred said, pulling Harry's glasses off with his other
hand. George flicked his wand and Harry heard the tell tale 'click' of the door
locking.
George then put one hand on Harry's cheek and turned his head to face him,
leaning in and kissing Harry softly on the lips. Then they both shoved him
backwards to land on one of the pouffes that were scattered around for their
defense training. Fred and George plopped down beside him, both of them
starting to remove his clothes. When Harry tried to reach up and undress one of
the Twins, the other stopped him.
"No, you just lay there and let us do the work for now," George told him, as
Fred rid him of his trainers and then quickly divested him of his trousers.
Soon, Harry was naked with his cock twitching, his whole body blushing. He
watched the Twins stare at him hungrily for a few seconds, before they started
tearing their own clothes off hurriedly. He even heard the sound of cloth
ripping a few times. Then the Twins pounced on him, Fred and George both
kissing, licking and biting every bit of Harry they could find, groping him
here and there. Harry's heart started racing and he felt a dull almost
unnoticeable pounding behind his eyes.
"Gods, you're sexy," Fred said in a husky tone. Harry's blush deepened and,
when one of the Twins went for the prize and grabbed hold of his new fully
erect member, a loud needy moan escaped him; he slapped a hand over his mouth
with a horrified look in his eyes at the sound that he'd made.
"Yes, he is, isn't he?" George replied. When the rough hand on his cock started
moving and the other twin moved Harry's hand away from his mouth only to cover
it with a set of demanding lips and a probing tongue, Harry lost track of which
twin was doing what. He allowed his hands to settle into the short flaming red
hair of the twin that was kissing him, holding their mouths together. Harry
melted into the kiss, trying to keep his hips still as the hand kept moving up
and down. He vaguely noticed the twitching erections pressing against his
thighs, when a set of teeth closed around one of his nipples, causing his back
to arch and him to yelp into the mouth that was devouring his own.
Then both the mouth kissing him and the hand stroking him left him, Harry
letting out a whimper of loss. That whimper turned into a long moan as one
mouth latched onto his collarbone, sucking and biting it, marking it. Then
another mouth was on his hard length, licking up the leaking essence and
sucking him in. His hips stuttered a little, causing a set of hands to settle
on his hips to hold him down. Harry moaned wantonly, his eyes squeezing shut in
pleasure. He felt that mouth smile around him, the other one chuckling and
moving to bite and suck at his nipples. He could feel his pleasure rising, heat
coiling in his belly, his moans rising in pitch.
"Oh, fuck... I'm gonna," he wheezed, then his eyes shot open and he shouted in
dismay when a hand closed around the base of his shaft, keeping him from
release. "No! No, no, please! Please let me come!"
"Now, now, Harry!" Fred said, after pulling his mouth off of Harry's cock with
a 'pop'. "Can't have you finishing without us!"
Harry only whimpered when Fred conjured a cock ring to put around Harry's angry
red and needy member. Fred grabbed hold of Harry's wrists and yanked him
forward, pulling him onto his lap, so he was straddling his thighs. He crashed
his lips against Harry's, as George moved to sit behind the raven-haired imp,
using a spell to cover his fingers in lube. He ran his wet fingers up and down
Harry's crease and over his hole, making Harry moan against Fred's lips.
A finger slipped inside and pushed past the ring of muscle and Harry's breath
hitched as he tensed. George left his finger there, gently turning it a little
from side to side, waiting for Harry to relax again. Once he did, George pushed
his finger in deeper, spreading the lube around, fucking his finger in and out
slowly until he was able to move it freely. Then, he added another finger and
Harry whimpered a little and tensed again. George brought his other hand up to
rub comforting circles onto Harry's back. When his hand made contact with
Harry's skin, Harry tensed even more and George paused, running his fingers
over the pronounced ridge of what felt like a scar, but he couldn't see any
scar on Harry's back. George shook himself, resolving to ask Harry about it
afterward, and continued the movements of his fingers inside the younger
wizard. Harry relaxed a little, moaning when the fingers starting scissoring
his opening and forgetting about George touching his back.
Fred nibbled on Harry's lips, then pulled away and put his fingers into Harry's
mouth. "Lick them," he ordered. Harry complied, keeping his eyes locked with
Fred's, as he wrapped his tongue around Fred's fingers and laved them until
they were wet with saliva. When they were sufficiently wet, he reluctantly
pulled his fingers from Harry's wonderful mouth and reached down and around to
finger himself, preparing his own hole. After another moment of stretching,
Fred pulled his fingers out of himself and George pulled his out of Harry.
George wrapped his arms around Harry and pulled him back against his chest,
grinding his erection against Harry bottom as he pulled him off of his
brother's lap.
Fred smirked and turned around and lay face down on one of the pouffes with his
arse in the air. Harry's skin turned a deeper red and his cock twitched at the
sight. George helped Harry move forward to kneel behind Fred, guiding Harry's
hands to grasp Fred's hips. Harry's scar tingled but he paid it no mind, so
transfixed was he on the task before him.
Fred groaned in need, wriggling his arse a little. "Come on, Harry! Do it!"
Harry licked his lips and lined himself up, pushing forward slowly, breaching
Fred's body. They both moaned, George groaning from the sight.
George helped Harry start a slow steady pace, then sat back and watched for a
minute with a devilish smirk on his face. Then he sat forward and grabbed hold
of Harry's hips, holding him still while he was deep inside Fred.
"What?" Harry started with a confused tone. George bent Harry forward over his
brother, then quickly but gently eased himself into that pink virgin hole. He
let out a deep groan at the same time Harry let out a howl of pleasure and
pain. Harry's breathing picked up and he tensed around the intrusion.
Fred reached for Harry's arms and brought them around his waist, holding them
there and caressing them. "It's okay, Harry, just breathe. Breathe and let
George take over," Fred told him with a breathy voice.
George started rubbing Harry's hips and sides gently. When he finally relaxed
again, he pulled out slowly and then slammed back in, making both Harry and
Fred moan loudly. "Rock your hips, Harry," George ordered huskily.
Harry wasn't sure what he meant, as it was his first time, so he tried an
experimental rock forwards. When he got a loud moan out of both of them, he did
it again. George started up again, starting a steady but hard rhythm.
"Oh, gods, yes, like that!" Fred moaned. "Angle it down a bit, Harry!" Harry
did and hit Fred's prostate dead on, causing him to give a shout. That's when
Fred started moving his own hips, fucking himself backwards onto Harry's cock,
just as George finally found Harry's sweet spot. Harry screamed and let out a
whine, stealing a hand between himself and Fred to get rid of the damn cock
ring, but George stopped him.
"Wait for us, Harry!" George breathed. Harry whimpered and kept rocking his
hips, as George kept plowing into him and Fred kept fucking himself on Harry's
prick. It didn't take long, with how tight Harry was around George and how
wanton Fred was moving. The Twins shouted as they came, Harry moaning just as
George released the cock ring and they all exploded at the same time.
Fred collapsed forward onto the pouffe and Harry collapsed on top of him.
George pulled out of Harry and flopped down beside his brother and the raven-
haired wizard.
"I take it you've... done this before," Harry panted out, trying to catch his
breath again. The Twins grinned evilly.
"Once or twice," George shrugged.
Harry smirked and heaved himself off of and out of Fred and plopped between the
two devils. "Let me guess... Lee Jordan?"
The Twins chuckled and nodded. "Yes, Lee is such a whore," Fred said, smiling.
He hesitated, then traded another evil grin with his brother.
"And so is Marcus Flint," they intoned together.
Harry's eyes bugged out. "Ew!" he shouted and buried his face against George's
arm. "I did not need that mental image! How can you two stand to touch him,
he's... so... ew!"
"He might not be a looker," George informed. "But he does have enough 'packed
away' to make up for it!"
Harry snorted and blushed again, looking up at George with wry smirk. "You
would let Flint bugger you just because he's got a huge cock, wouldn't you?"
"And a tight arse!" Fred chimed in. They all laughed at that, Harry shaking his
head.
Harry sat up and looked at each twin, then reached for his pants. "That was
fun."
"Indeed it was!" Fred said, taking Harry's pants from him and chucking them
away. "But it's not over yet!" Harry raised an eyebrow. "It's my turn, now!
Your arse is mine!" Harry flushed a deeper red.
"Okay," Harry said, smiling shyly.
"And!" George said, sitting up and putting his fingers to Harry's lips. "We
have one more orifice to cherry pop!" Harry turned red all over and his eyes
widened.
"Yes! We officially lay claim to all of your firsts!" Fred added, smirking.
"Sexually, anyway."
"What makes you think I haven't done anything like this before?" Harry asked.
"Harry," George started.
"You blush too much for you to be anything but a virgin!" Fred finished. Harry
nodded silently, as the red tinge in his cheeks burned furiously.
"Well, then!" George stated, laying back onto the pouffe, pulling Harry forward
to hover over his hips. "Just do what Fred did to you earlier," he instructed,
his voice going a lot deeper as he said it.
Harry bit his lip and nodded again, eyeing the rapidly returning erection. He
actually couldn't believe how much he really wanted to put that thing in his
mouth, even considering where it had been for the last twenty minutes. He
swallowed thickly as his mouth started watering. He licked his lips and leaned
down to lick over the red glistening head. He heard George draw a sharp breath
and then moan when he wrapped his lips around it and started sucking, slowly
taking as much of it in as he could. He moaned around the flesh tower when he
felt the head of an exact copy press against his stretched and used hole. He
whimpered and gagged around the cock in his mouth when Fred pushed himself
deeper into Harry, letting out his own deep guttural groan. Harry experimented
with swallowing George's length, and wrapping his tongue out it. He figured he
was doing it right when he felt hands fist into his hair and George's hips
jerked upward, making Harry gag again.
"Fuck!" George shouted, when Harry hollowed his cheeks. "Fred, back up a bit!"
Harry felt Fred pull out and tug him backward with him, as George sat up onto
his knees in front of Harry.
"Keep doing what you've been doing, Harry, but I'm going to be the one moving
this time," George told him, pressing his cock to Harry's lips.
Harry took it back into his mouth and George started moving his hips slowly,
fucking Harry's mouth. Fred slammed himself back inside Harry and reached
around to wrap a hand around the smaller wizard's cock, making Harry let out a
whine. Fred and George mercilessly pounded into Harry, a hard pace that Harry
found himself liking a lot. The sound of flesh hitting flesh filled the room,
accompanied by soft pants and loud moans, until it was filled with the screams
of completion and just a little choking on Harry's part when George's cum shot
down his throat.
"Sorry about that, Harry," George told him panting. "It felt so good, I didn't
think to warn you."
Harry shook his head, trying to get his coughing under control. "Don't do...
that again...," he choked out, coughing between words.
"Oh! Again!" Fred exclaimed. "He says not to cum down his throat again. Like
he's expecting a next time! He wants to do us again, George!" Harry blushed
again, his coughing finally letting up.
"Well," Harry started shyly. "If you don't want to, then..."
"Oh, no!" George said. "Don't get us wrong, Harry. We'd very much like another
piece of you!"
Harry smiled and blushed deeper. When his eyes started drooping, Harry shook
himself and started collecting his clothes. "We'd better get back to Gryffindor
Tower before we're missed."
The Twins nodded and the three of them started dressing themselves and quickly
made their way out of the Room of Requirement. When they got back to the Tower,
Harry was slightly dismayed to find Hermione waiting for him in the common
room, especially with the smirk on her face and the pounding headache building
behind his eyes. He and the Twins stopped just inside the door, looking very
much like deer in headlights.
"So, how was it?" Hermione asked, knowingly. She winked at them and patted the
seats beside her. "Tell me everything!" Harry went the shade of a pomegranate
and reluctantly dragged his feet over to the couch Hermione was sitting on, the
Twins following and also blushing, though not as obviously as Harry.
George completely forgot to ask Harry about his back.
 
--Slytherin Castle, somewhere in Ireland. Same night.--
Voldemort. Was not happy. Not in the slightest. He'd discovered the mind link
between himself and Harry Potter and had been lightly keeping tabs on his life
since the beginning of the school year. He saw EVERYTHING those red-headed
fiends did to something he now considered to be HIS. Or would be his, soon.
Quite possibly sooner than he'd planned, as he thought of moving up his plans
by a of couple months, just to get Harry away from any other suitors.
He currently was so enraged that his magic was crackling around him; the fire
in the hearth had been suffocated by it, his eyes were crimson and he'd had
Wormtail under the Cruciatus Curse for the last five minutes, since the waste
of flesh came into the room without knocking. He barely heard his screams as he
seethed that, not only had a couple of Weasleys touched HIS future consort but,
they'd taken his virginity. And Harry had enjoyed it immensely.
The Dark Lord growled in frustration. Maybe he was getting ahead of himself. He
wasn't even sure he could get the damn brat to cooperate enough to bear him
children, much less bond with him. He might even be forced to kill him anyway.
Potter could be particularly stubborn when it came to something he didn't want
to do. He was certain he'd have to force Potter into bed with him, at least the
first time. Though, he was looking forward to that. He liked it rough, and from
what he'd seen going on with Potter and those Weasleys, he was sure the brat
would like it too, though it would be much to his own shame.
Taking another ten minutes to calm himself a bit, the Dark Lord huffed out a
sigh and finally released Wormtail from the curse. He stood and headed to his
personal chambers, leaving the rat on the floor to twitch and drool. He'd have
to contact Lucius in the morning, to tell him about the advance in plans.
TBC
Chapter End Notes
     Song lyrics are from "Rabbit Heart" by Florence and the Machine. I
     borrowed it because it seemed overly appropriate to Harry's and
     Luna's situations. I changed a few key words in the lyrics to keep it
     consistent with the old-fashioned Wizarding World.
     The aforementioned "Drumming Song" is also by Florence and the
     Machine.
***** Vision *****
Chapter Summary
     Umbridge gets hers.
Chapter Notes
     Some slight Harry/Seamus wanking.
"Speech."
'Thoughts.'
"~Parseltongue.~"
Spells and potions.
+Chapter 4: Vision+
--Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, somewhere in Northern Scotland.
Thursday 29 February 1996.--
It was late evening, Harry and Seamus Finnegan were on their way back to
Gryffindor Tower after a shared detention. Dumbledore was long gone, their DA
days were over, and Umbridge had free reign over Hogwarts. There were no
paintings on the walls and Umbridge's voice was reciting the school rules on a
continuous loop throughout the corridors even at night. Seamus and Harry had
made up, Seamus confessing to Harry that he believed him when he said the Dark
Lord was back.
Seamus' hand was scabbed over already, while Harry's bled freely. The scarring
was so thick on Harry's hand that even if it were allowed to heal properly,
he'd still have vivid scars on the back of his hand for the rest of his life -
even with Madam Pomfrey's help. Seamus kept flicking his gaze toward Harry, as
they walked side by side down the corridor. Suddenly, Seamus grabbed Harry by
his unhurt hand and dragged him behind a tapestry and into a hidden passageway.
"Seamus, what-" Harry exclaimed, only to have Seamus' hand slap over his mouth.
Harry was shoved up against the wall, with Seamus pressing against him.
"Ssh," Seamus hushed him, removing his hand and slamming his lips against
Harry's.
Harry gasped, allowing Seamus access to his mouth. When Harry felt that tongue
invade, he pressed right back into the kiss, as they both started fondling one
another. He threw himself into the tryst, brought on by raging hormones. That's
all this was, and they both knew it. Just two teenagers trying to get off. It
might also have been a bit of defiance on their part, as Umbridge had made it
clear that homosexual relationships were 'unnatural', or at least that was her
excuse for removing the new male pregnancy potions from the curriculum. She'd
even gone so far as to vanish the potions that the NEWT students had been
working so hard on for over a month, giving them all zeros in their Potions
grades for that time. That pissed Snape and the other professors off and dashed
the hopes of many students of getting the NEWTs they needed for the careers
they'd wanted to pursue.
Harry's fingers made quick work of Seamus' belt and the fastenings of his
trousers. He stole his hand inside and grabbed hold of Seamus' rock hard
member, while Seamus quickly released Harry from the confines of his own
uniform trousers. They continued to kiss and stroke eachother, trying their
best to stay quiet. They kissed and bit and sucked at each other's lips and
tongues, their hands moving on their cocks faster and faster. Harry winced.
'There it is again! That headache!' he thought, mentally groaning in both
annoyance and pain. Every time he was intimate with someone - kissing Luna,
making out with Colin, fucking Malfoy (and wasn't that an interesting night?) -
he'd get a terrible headache. Whenever he was with Fred and George, even just
talking to them, he'd get a full blown migraine.
Harry pushed the pain aside and kept on stroking Seamus, his movements slicked
by precum and blood from his own hand (much to his own disgust). Seamus bit his
lip and moaned as he released into Harry's hand. Harry was almost to the finish
line too, just a little bit more...
His head exploded with pain, making him scream and fall to the ground with his
hands clutched to his head, scaring Seamus and attracting the attention of a
professor who'd been walking by.
Seamus quickly made himself decent and bent to do the same for Harry, then
started to fret over what to do for his whimpering and writhing classmate, when
Professor Flitwick stepped into the passageway. Seeing Harry on the ground,
bleeding from his hand and the scar on his forehead, Filius Flitwick
disregarded the boys' disheveled state and conjured a stretcher and levitated
Harry onto it.
"Come along, Mister Finnegan! We must get him to the Hospital Wing," he stated.
"What happened?" he asked the teenager, as they rushed down the corridor, Harry
levitating on the stretcher behind them.
"I don't know what happened! One minute he was fine - more than fine - and the
next minute he was screaming!" Seamus said quickly. They both faltered and
turned to look at Harry when he suddenly stopped moving and making noise.
"Quickly, now!" Flitwick squeaked and started running, absently sending a
Patronus off to Professor McGonagall. 'That bleeding curse scar is very
worrying!' the professor thought.
They arrived at the Hospital Wing not two minutes later, rushing through the
doors, catching Madam Pomfrey's attention from her filing for the day. She
bustled out of her office to see what the noise was, and noticing the bleeding
student, instantly started barking orders and casting diagnostic spells. Seamus
ran off back to Gryffindor Tower when the Madam ordered him out of the room.
Professor Flitwick rushing off to wake Professor Snape, after telling Pomfrey
EXACTLY how he'd found Mister Potter and Mister Finnegan and what Seamus had
told him. Professor McGonagall rushed into the room, still in her teaching
robes, just as Flitwick flitted through the door.
"What is going on, Poppy?" McGonagall asked, and she gasped when she noticed
Harry's forehead. "Oh, my!"
"I'm not sure what's happening," Pomfrey told her. "Filius brought him here,
told me he was with Mister Finnegan when he found him. Apparently, the two had
been doing things of a... sexual nature, judging by their clothes. He heard
Potter scream and rushed to him. Finnegan said he'd been fine until that
moment, he just started screaming and fell to the floor holding his head. As
far as what the diagnostics are saying, it's only registering the open wounds,
nothing else. He's unconscious, Filius said he'd passed out while they were
rushing here. That's all I know." She frowned and sighed in frustration. "I
can't get the wounds to close up, either. They just keep bleeding!"
Five minutes later, Flitwick came back with Snape in tow. Professor Snape
brought a few potions with him, Dreamless Sleep and one that dulls pain from
dark spell damage. Pomfrey spelled the potions into Potter's stomach, wiped the
blood from his forehead and where it had dripped down his face and up into his
hair, and wrapped his hand in thick bandages that quickly started soaking
through with blood. She then transfigured his clothes into pajamas, removed his
glasses and tucked him into bed. She sighed helplessly. He was so deathly pale
and his eyelids fluttered in his sleep as he dreamt, even with the potion that
was supposed to suppress that. The four adults stood back and fidgeted,
sneered, bounced in anxiety and frowned worriedly down at the unconscious
teenager.
"What is going on here?" came a high, sickly sweet voice. They all turned to
see Umbridge walking into the room and over to the bed which held Harry Potter.
"Oh, Dolores," McGonagall said, turning to scowl at the so-called Headmistress.
"Mister Potter has simply found his way to the Hospital Wing again. He fell
unconscious on his way back to the dormitories. I assume the bleeding coming
from his hand is your doing."
"Watch yourself, Minerva," Umbridge tittered. "Don't forget whom you're
speaking to. It was only another detention for his vicious lies. I assure you,
that wouldn't have been enough to render him unconscious. So, what's really
going on here?"
"'His vicious lies'?" McGonagall quoted through gritted teeth. "Tell me,
Dolores, what do you see on Mister Potter's forehead?" Umbridge only glanced at
Harry, smiled and turned back to McGonagall, un-answering. "It's a curse scar,
the one the Dark Lord gave him when he was a baby. It's bleeding! Curse scars
don't just bleed like that after so many years! You want proof the Dark Lord is
back and Harry's not lying, look at his head!"
"He must have cut it open himself, looking for more attention," Umbridge
replied simply. McGonagall bristled, her face turning red in rage.
"Curse scars can't be cut open," Snape answered before McGonagall could
explode. "Not by any blade or any spell Potter might know. Curse scars are
remnants of the curse that made them, the residual magic lying dormant. They
can only be reopened when the magic of the curse that formed them has been
disturbed. Surely, you, as Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, should know
that. The only way for it to happen, in this case, is for the one who cast the
curse to awaken it himself. In other words, the Dark Lord has done something to
disturb and awaken the magic in Potter's scar, either directly or indirectly.
As Minerva told you," Snape explained, gesturing toward Harry's head. "Your
proof that the Dark Lord has returned."
"Lies," Umbridge stated. "All lies. The Minister for Magic has decreed that the
Dark Lord is dead and cannot return. If you continue to spread such lies I will
have to have you all arrested and brought up on charges for treason and
slander. Now, heal the little liar up and send him on his way. I will see to it
that he is punished accordingly-"
"Enough!" McGonagall yelled, her hands clenching in fists. Her uncharacteristic
shout causing all conscious parties in the room to startle and stare wide-eyed
at the usually terse and tight-lipped professor. "That is enough! Dolores
Umbridge, you cannot continue to punish the students for made up or unproven
accusations! Especially not with Blood Quills or any other torturous manner
that sick mind of yours has come up with!
"How dare you speak to me that way!" Umbridge said, but McGonagall shouted over
here.
"Harry Potter is not lying! Believe it or not, he doesn't lie! I've never known
him to lie about anything, other than telling his friends and teachers that
he's 'fine' whenever he clearly isn't fine at all!" McGonagall said with a huff
after the last part. "He's not an attention seeker! He HATES all the attention
he gets, it's obvious to anyone who bothers to look!" At this, she pointedly
glared at Snape - who only raised an eyebrow, then turned back to Umbridge. She
opened her mouth to continue but Umbridge beat her to it.
"That is enough, Minerva! Continue and I will call the Aurors and have you
removed and banished from the premises!" Umbridge breathed, pursing her lips.
"Oh, you will, will you?" Minerva McGonagall said with a predatory smirk,
advancing toward Umbridge and towering over her. "You might be Headmistress on
a piece of paper at the Ministry, but the school itself has not accepted you to
that position. You have no power to banish anyone from the premises, but I,
Minerva Isobel McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwart's School of
Witchcraft and Wizardry, do hereby expel you, Dolores Jane Umbridge, from your
post as Defense Against the Dark Arts professor and banish your person from
this castle and it's surrounding grounds and forests, forevermore!"
"You can't do tha-" Umbridge started to say, her face a mask of outrage.
"SO MOTE IT BE!" McGonagall bellowed.
The Olde Magick of the castle wards hummed as they wrapped around Umbridge and
yanked her off her feet and sent her soaring out of the Hospital Wing and
through the castle, screaming and waving her wand to try and stop her momentum.
Obviously the castle magic wasn't bothering to watch for obstacles, judging by
all the crashing sounds. Umbridge's screaming and the thick heady magic of the
school was attracting the attention of all the professors and prefects who were
doing their rounds and causing the other students to spill from their common
rooms to find out what was going on. They laughed and watched as Dolores
Umbridge flew past them and was thrown out of the castle doors, where she
landed on her face in the mud, then was dragged the rest of the way across the
grounds, her hands scrabbling for purchase as she was pulled by her ankles by
an invisible force and tossed out of the gates onto the wet and muddy High
Streete of Hogsmeade.
"Wicked," Ron said from the doorway to the Hospital Wing. He and Hermione had
rushed there, after Seamus had gotten back to the common room and started
telling everyone who was awake what had happened to Harry (of course, leaving
out the part about them wanking each other).
McGonagall humphed, her nostrils flared in anger. "Good riddance!" She turned
her gaze to Ron and Hermione, who tensed in apprehension but relaxed when her
face melted into a soft smile. "Miss Granger, Mister Weasley, I assume you're
here to see Mister Potter?"
"Yes, Professor," Hermione answered, walking into the room with Ron and going
over to Harry's bed. "Seamus came running into the common room and told us what
happened. We came here right away," she said, sitting on the edge of Harry's
bed and brushing his hair away from his bleeding scar. "Curious," she muttered,
her brow furrowed in worry and fascination. "How is he?"
Madam Pomfrey shook herself from her stupor at McGonagall's actions and
answered. "I'm not sure. There's never been another case like Harry Potter's,
most curse scars are just that, scars. There seems to be more to Mister
Potter's than just scar tissue and dormant magic. Now, we won't know anything
until he wakes up," she said, as she started shooing Ron and Hermione out of
the room. "He's been given potions, so he'll be sleeping for some time. You'd
best just go back to your dormitories, and you can see him in the morning."
With that, she closed the door in their faces before either of them could
argue.
Once the door was closed, Flitwick spoke up. "Minerva, Umbridge could be back
with Aurors any minute. She might not be able to enter the grounds, but that
won't stop anyone else from the Ministry coming in and taking you away."
"Yes," Snape said. "It might be prudent of you to join the Headmaster in hiding
at Headquarters for the time being."
"Don't worry about the students or the school," Flitwick cut McGonagall off
before she could start arguing. "We'll look after everything in your absence.
Besides, I don't think you'll be hiding long... Somehow, I think something big
is going to happen very soon," he ended with a wary glance at Harry. All the
teachers took a moment to watch the sleeping teen. Pomfrey tutted and moved
forward to wipe away the fresh blood dripping from Harry's forehead.
"Well," Madam Pomfrey started, as she stood up straight. "We can't do anything
until he wakes up. Let's let him rest." She quickly shooed the other teachers
out of the room, before going back to her office. Snape and Flitwick followed
McGonagall to her chambers to help her gather her things and escort her to one
of the known underground passageways out of the castle.
It didn't take long for the Aurors to show up with a warrant for Minerva
McGonagall's arrest. They were forced to leave empty-handed an hour later after
searching the castle, waking all the students, and finding nothing.
 
Harry slept well into the night, it was just after two o'clock in the morning
on the first of March, when he woke up groggily. He was sweaty and shaking, his
head still bleeding and showing no sign of stopping. He sat up, his mind racing
with what he hoped was just a nightmare, but he had to be sure. "Sirius," he
muttered, wiping the blood from his head and reaching for his glasses and his
wand. He climbed out of bed on shaky legs and somehow managed to make it out of
the Hospital Wing without alerting Madam Pomfrey. He stumbled through the
corridors and down the stairs, constantly having to wipe blood from his
forehead before it could drip into his eyes. He made it to Gryffindor Tower
without running into anyone and woke up the portrait of the Fat Lady, then
clambered through the portrait hole. He was surprised to find the common room
wasn't empty. Ron and Hermione were still awake, as though they were waiting
for him - as were Fred, George and Ginny.
"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, jumping up from her seat and rushing to her
deathly pale and weak best friend. "What are you doing here? You should still
be in bed in the Hospital Wing! Look at you!"
"Can't," he murmured. "Sirius is in trouble."
"What do you mean?" Ginny asked after she and the others hurried over as well.
"I don't know," Harry shook his head, making a beeline for the stairs to the
boys dormitory. "It might have just been a nightmare, but I need to be sure!"
He rushed up the stairs, his friends close behind him. He didn't even bother
trying to be quiet when he rushed into the fifth year dorm room and over to his
trunk to pull out his invisibility cloak, the Marauders' Map and fresh clothes.
He irritably wiped at his forehead again, as he started changing his clothes,
mindless of the girls that had followed him into the room.
"What's all the noise?" Neville asked in a sleepy tone, all the bustle having
woken him up, along with Dean and Seamus.
"Harry, shouldn't we tell a teacher or something?" Hermione asked helplessly.
"Why, so Umbridge will find out?" Harry scoffed.
"Oh, she won't find anything out, mate," Ron chimed in, smirking. "You missed
it, Professor McGonagall went all scary and banished her from the school
grounds. Sent her soaring through the castle out on her backside! It was
brilliant!"
Harry stopped in the middle of changing his trousers. "That's handy."
"What's handy?" Hermione asked warily.
"I need to get to the Ministry of Magic," Harry said, finishing with changing
his clothes, dressing in one of his new t-shirts and a pair of jeans that fit
properly. He quickly tugged on a pair of trainers and threw on an outer robe.
"The Ministry?" Fred asked.
"I had a dream, a vision," Harry hurried to explain, wiping his forehead again.
"I don't know if it's real, but I have to find out. I saw Sirius being tortured
at the Ministry by Voldemort in the Department of Mysteries."
"Sirius Black?" Seamus asked quietly, his question going unanswered.
"Okay, but what's handy about Umbridge getting thrown out?" Ginny asked.
"The Floo in her office is the only one connected to the Floo Network," Harry
said. "I can use it to get to the Ministry more quickly than if I try to fly
there."
Hermione was shaking her head frantically. "Harry, no! You're in no shape to go
to the Ministry and possibly have to fight in a battle! You can barely stand!"
Her words sparking Seamus and Neville into motion, starting to get dressed.
"Harry, this is mental," Dean said from his bed. "You should go tell a teacher
and let them take care of it."
"I can't do that!" Harry shouted, shoving his way through the throng of
redheads. "If I go tell a teacher, they'll just try to stop me! I can't just
sit here and do nothing while my godfather, the only family I have, is being
tortured and possibly killed!"
"We're coming with you!" Fred and George stated, blocking Harry from leaving,
pulling out their wands.
"There's nothing you can say that will change our minds, Harry," George said
when Harry opened his mouth to argue.
"So, you'd better get used to the idea," Fred finished.
"I'm coming too," Ginny said, her wand in her hand.
"Not leaving without us!" Ron said. Hermione sighed in resignation.
"No, I don't want any of you to get hurt!" Harry tried to argue while scrubbing
at his head with the sleeve of his robe.
"Well, we don't want you to get hurt, either!" Hermione said. Neville and
Seamus had finished getting dressed and were nodding along, wands in hand.
Dean sighed at his friends and burrowed back under his blankets. "Don't come
crying to me, when you all get your heads lopped off!"
"Thanks a lot, Dean!" Seamus snapped.
Harry's shoulders slumped and looked around at all his friends. He sighed and
tossed the useless invisibility cloak onto his bed, because it couldn't cover
all of them. "Fine, come on then." Fred and George led the way out of the room
and the group quickly and quietly made their way out of Gryffindor Tower and
skulked through the shadows, keeping their eyes on the Marauder's Map all the
way to Umbridge's office. They were surprised to find Luna waiting outside the
door to Umbridge's office.
"Luna?" Harry asked. "What are you doing here?"
"I knew you'd be coming here," Luna said in a dreamy voice with a smile on her
face. "A Blibbering Humdinger came and told me that you're going on an
adventure, and might need my help."
Harry smiled wryly, knowing Luna would follow him even if he told her not to.
Luna's statement also set it in stone for him that she was indeed a Seer, who
cleverly covered up her abilities with eccentricities. "Okay," he said
resignedly. He unlocked the office door and rushed over to the fireplace.
 
Dean waited until he couldn't hear his friends anymore, before he threw on a
robe and ran to find one of his professors.
TBC
***** Taken *****
Chapter Summary
     Harry gets taken! *gasp*
"Speech."
'Thoughts.'
"~Parseltongue.~"
Spells and potions.
+Chapter 5: Taken+
--Ministry of Magic. 1 March 1996, 03:02 a.m.--
The Dark Lord smirked as he watched Harry through their link; heard his worried
thoughts; saw his vague useless plans; felt him grow annoyed with his bleeding
forehead. Voldemort actively pushed at the magic in the lightning bolt-shaped
scar, making it bleed even more, knowing that it might just give Potter enough
of a distraction for him to take advantage of later.
He was impressed by the boy's daring and courage, even for a Gryffindor his
bravery was admirable. Though, he was far from fearless. The boy could care
less about what happened to himself, but he was full of hesitation for letting
his friends go along into danger. There were so many emotions going through
Harry Potter's head; fear, pain, determination, gratefulness, rage, irritation,
worry, a plethora of love and hate. All of these emotions so overwhelming and
so foreign to Voldemort that he couldn't help but be in awe of it all. He
himself was filled with anticipation of seeing several of those strong emotions
aimed directly at him, face to face. To see the fire in Harry Potter's eyes, to
feel his fury and intoxicating magic all around him. Just the thought of it
alone was filling the Dark Lord with lust.
'My equal,' Voldemort thought, as he turned to his Death Eaters. "Here he
comes," he told them, causing Bellatrix to cackle madly. "Positions!"
'Soon, you'll be all mine.'
 
Harry made a Floo call to Grimmauld Place to check if Sirius was still there,
but he could only get hold of Kreacher who was vague in telling him where is
Master was. Simply saying he was not at home. Harry growled in frustration and
fear, turning to his friends.
"He's not at home," Harry said to Hermione, who frowned and nodded. Harry stood
and grabbed more Floo Powder and threw it into the fire. He jumped into the
flames and shouted, "Ministry of Magic, London" and was whisked off in a blaze
of green. The others looked at each other for a moment before they followed.
Harry hadn't waited for his friends to come through before he ran off through
the empty Atrium to the lifts, but the sound of squeaky trainer-covered feet
told him that they were right behind him.
Once the lift started moving with all of them inside, Hermione made an
observation. "This is the Ministry of Magic, even this late at night, there
should be people around."
"I know," Harry sighed, rubbing his forehead.
"This is really happening, then," Neville mumbled.
Ron patted Neville on the back. "Glad you came with, though, Nev."
Neville nodded. "Yeah."
"By the way, Harry," Fred started up.
"Fred and I have a few handy pranks in our pockets, should we run into any
slimy Death Eaters," George finished. Fred and George passed out the few
finished and even unfinished inventions to their friends. Each of them getting
something different, Harry was given a chunk of black soot that they called
Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder and was told to throw it on the ground if he
needed to get away but that he should be ready to conjure a Lumos if he wanted
to see where he was going.
"Haven't figured out how to get it so the user can still see where he's going
while still blinding his opponent," Fred had put in. "But using a Lumos should
give you enough light to keep you from running into anything, while still being
dim enough to keep anyone else from seeing you."
"Thanks," Harry said, thinking that he would probably end up using it at some
point tonight.
"Department of Mysteries," spoke the disembodied voice of the lift. Harry
gulped and stepped out. He looked around for any movement before he fastened
his gaze on the black door that led to the Department of Mysteries. He didn't
waste time and ran toward it, his friends trailing behind him. He bit his lip
and opened the door. Inside they found a room of doors, quickly growing more
irritated as he watched the doors rotate every time they tried one. He wiped at
his forehead again and tried another random door. After an infuriating amount
of time in the room with the rotating doors, they finally found the Hall of
Prophecy, where Harry had seen Sirius in his vision.
They roamed through the aisles of shelves, looking for Sirius, or anyone at
all. They came upon the row of shelves that Harry had seen in his vision.
"Harry," Neville murmured. "It's got your name on it." Harry looked at it and
picked up the orb, blood that had been wiped from his forehead smearing over
the glass. As soon as it left the shelf and was held firmly in his palm it
started reciting it's prophecy for everyone in the vicinity to hear.
"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches,
Born to those who have thrice defied him,
Born as the seventh month dies,
And the Dark Lord shall mark him as his equal but he will have power the Dark
Lord knows not,
And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the
other survives,
The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh
month dies."
"Well, that's unsettling," Ron muttered.
Then they heard a cackle and turned to see Bellatrix Lestrange standing not ten
feet away from them. Harry slipped the prophecy into his pocket and glanced
around, groaning in annoyance when he noticed they were surrounded, even going
so far as to roll his eyes before he turned his attention back to Bellatrix.
"Gotcha!" Bellatrix sang. Harry glowered and swiped his wand through the air,
throwing a whole row of glass orbs to shatter over Bellatrix's head. She
shrieked and the other Death Eaters shouted, as Harry's friends did the same
thing to the rest of them.
"Run!" Harry yelled and bolted back the way they came, hoping his friends would
follow and not be hit by the retaliatory hexes and curses that were being
thrown at them. He ran through a door, only to fall through the air when he
found no ground beyond the door. His friends tumbled after him, the only thing
saving them all from becoming splatters on the floor was Hermione's quick wand
work, levitating them all slowly to the ground.
They all stood and looked around, finding themselves in a stone chamber with
only an empty stone archway in the middle and one passageway leading to who
knows where. The moment of peace left Harry noticing just how tired he was, and
his damn scar was still bleeding leaving him even weaker. Wasn't blood supposed
to clot up a wound at some point? Didn't help that his hand wasn't in the best
of shape either.
Their peaceful moment didn't last long. Black smoke started billowing around
them. Harry was knocked to the ground and a heavy weight settled onto his back.
When the smoke cleared, Harry noticed all of his friends were captured by Death
Eaters and there was the knee of another one in his back, holding him down.
Taking a second to notice with a sense of satisfaction that Bellatrix had cuts
all over her face, he turned his head to the side to see who it was that was on
top of him, but this person was cloaked and was wearing a mask, unlike the
others. The cloaked figure started reaching for Harry's wand to disarm him and
Harry started struggling to get free. Then the room was filled with light and
the trill of a phoenix. Relief filled Harry's mind and he took the moment of
distraction and twisted himself enough to ram an elbow into the side of the
masked figure's head, earning a grunt from said figure and knocking him off of
his back.
Harry scrambled to his feet and ran to his godfather, who had arrived along
with the rest of the Order of the Phoenix. Fighting ensued, spells flying
everywhere, children running for cover or fighting alongside the Order members.
Harry fought beside Sirius. Sirius taking on Bellatrix, while Harry took on
Lucius Malfoy. The masked figure had disappeared the moment Dumbledore showed
up.
Most of the fighting didn't last very long, the Order outnumbering the Death
Eaters that were present. Most of the Death Eaters ran away. Harry sent Lucius
flying backward and turned just in time to see a frustrated Bellatrix throw a
familiar bright green curse at Sirius. Harry didn't even think about it; he
dove forward and knocked both Sirius and himself to the ground just as the
curse soared over their heads. The curse passed so close it made Harry's hair
flutter as it breezed by him. Sirius stared up at his godson, who was on top of
him and looking furiously after the witch who had turned tail and run the
moment she saw Harry interfere.
"Thank you for that," Sirius told him lightly. "Harry?" Sirius tried to get
Harry's attention, but he was already up off the floor and running. Sirius just
missed grabbing hold of Harry's robes as he ran after her. "Harry!"
Harry chased her down the stone passageway, through halls and corridors, all
the way out to the Atrium. When she cackled and began taunting him, he flung a
tripping jinx at her and Bellatrix yelped and crashed to the floor face first,
her nose making a sickening crunch as it collided with the black marble floor.
Harry skidded to a halt, as Bellatrix turned over and glared up at him, blood
flowing from her nose. Harry flicked his wand and silently disarmed the witch,
catching her wand in his other hand. He breathed heavily, both in fatigue and
anger, as he looked down at the wand made of twisted black wood - as twisted as
its owner. He gripped the wand in both hands and snapped it in half and threw
it aside. Bellatrix gasped and growled in outrage.
"If you ever attack someone I love again, then so help me, whatever you do to
them, I will do to you!" he shouted. "I should curse you just for trying it!"
He raised his wand and aimed it at her, his hand shaking slightly. Bellatrix
cowered in fear of the wizard standing over her. His magic was pouring off of
him in waves. Harry took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to calm
himself, but he was still too angry to let her go. He shook his head and waved
his wand, throwing every prank hex and curse he could think of at her. When he
was finished, Bellatrix was a twitching, wheezing, pimply mass of oozing,
bleeding, brightly-colored hair, flesh and feathers. She even had a beak. "Next
time, you won't be so lucky," he hissed at her, his right eye closing as blood
dripped down into it from his forehead.
"Promise?" a voice hissed into his ear and he whirled around, wand at the
ready... only to be punched in the jaw.
He grunted as he was sent sprawling to the floor, his wand slipping from his
hand and clattering to the floor, his glasses flying off of his face. He hissed
in pain, bringing his hand up to his jaw and split lip, his other hand reaching
for his wand. No sooner had he looked at the blurry spot where his wand lay did
it fly off the ground and into his attacker's outstretched hand. Harry stilled
when he sat up and looked up at who it was. It was Voldemort, he could tell
even through his fuzzy eyesight and Harry mentally cursed himself for blushing.
There he stood, looking like Tom Riddle, in a cloak that Harry thought he
recognized as the one belonging to the Death Eater that was holding him down
earlier. And now that he looked carefully, he saw a big dark spot on the Dark
Lord's cheek that could only be a bruise.
Harry couldn't help the smirk or the snide comment. "You hit like a girl."
The Dark Lord shrugged. "Well, it's not often that I resort to muggle methods,
but," Voldemort paused and gestured to his own face. "An eye for an eye."
Harry scowled and moved to stand up, but when he got to the point of putting
weight onto his tired legs, he crumpled back onto the floor. "Shit," he hissed
to himself.
"Oh, yes," the Dark Lord muttered, squatting down beside Harry. "That's my
fault." Suddenly, like a snake striking out, he lunged forward and wrapped a
hand around Harry's throat, squeezing and pressing him backward until he was on
the ground. Harry winced when his head collided with the floor, his hands
shooting up to try and pry Voldemort's hand off of his neck. The Dark Lord
smiled almost triumphantly, as he watched Harry struggle. He dug his fingers in
deeper, choking and pressing into the pressure points, taking great glee in
watching Harry's eyes widen in fear and his mouth gape as he tried to draw
breath. Harry scratched at the hand around his throat with his finger nails,
trying and failing to remove it. Harry tried reaching up to wrap his own hands
around the Dark Lord's throat, but his arms were shorter than Voldemort's. Just
as the boy's eyes were closing and his struggling limbs went slack as he passed
into unconsciousness, a powerful stinging hex hit Voldemort's hand, forcing him
to let go. He growled and turned to see Dumbledore standing across the other
side of the Atrium.
"Leave him alone, Tom," Dumbledore said, moving closer with his wand raised.
The Dark Lord narrowed his eyes and stood, leaving Harry passed out on the
floor. "I can't do that, Albus." He sent a curse at Dumbledore, who deflected
it and sent one of his own right back. Voldemort threw up a thick opaque black
shield and turned to pick up his prize. Dumbledore cast a particularly clever
spell that disabled Voldemort's shield and raised his wand to cast another
spell, but faltered when the shield fell and he saw Harry in the Dark Lord's
arms.
"Tom, don't do this," Dumbledore implored. The members of the Order of the
Phoenix and Harry's classmates arrived into the Atrium a few seconds later.
Remus was the first to notice what was happening and lunged to hold Sirius back
and out of Dumbledore's way.
"Do what, Albus?" Voldemort taunted. He gave the Headmaster a lazy shrug. "I
don't plan on killing him any time soon, I promise. I still need him!" The Dark
Lord pressed a mocking kiss to Harry's forehead and throwing a wink at the
aging wizard, confusing Dumbledore who gave him a pensive and calculating look.
Voldemort turned to his Death Eaters that had finally shown up, just as the
Ministry's Floos flared to life, emitting Ministry employees in various stages
of dress after they'd all gotten the alert that someone had broken into the
Ministry. The Minister himself stood there dumbfounded in his pajamas and
bowler hat. "Bring the Seer," Voldemort told his followers. He sent a wandless
Fiendfyre at Dumbledore, then used that opportunity to apparate away.
By the time Dumbledore had put the fire out, the Death Eaters had disappeared,
taking Luna Lovegood and an incapacitated Bellatrix Lestrange with them.
Voldemort was long gone with Harry in his arms. Sirius dropped to his knees and
started crying and Hermione cried into Ron's shoulder. Dumbledore stared at the
place where the Dark Lord had been standing, along with the rest of the wizards
and witches who had shown up in time to see the Dark Lord Voldemort disappear
with Harry Potter. The only things left in the middle of the Atrium were puffs
of smoke, small pools of blood and Harry's glasses lying on the floor.
 
--Slytherin Castle, somewhere in Ireland. Same day.--
The Dark Lord apparated directly into his own personal bed chamber - a large
and majestic room filled with the characteristic Slytherin colors - and
carefully laid his cargo onto the king-sized bed. He raised his wand and waved
a Scourgify over the still form of Harry Potter, removing all the dirt and
blood and cast another spell that removed Harry's outer robe without moving
him, because Voldemort knew he'd have stuff in his pockets. He also took his
shoes, leaving Harry in only his jeans and t-shirt and nothing that could be
used as a weapon.
He looked down at the almost angelic face, raising his wand and healing up
Harry's lip and jaw, and the finger marks on his neck, then traced the tip of
his wand over Harry's bloody scar, closing it up as well. He put the tip of his
wand into his own mouth and licked the small amount of blood off, as he reached
to run his thumb over the scar in an almost reverent manner. He gasped and
almost dropped his wand, when he felt the magic of the scar push back. He
slowly sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes never leaving the lightning bolt
shaped scar. He drew his wand over the scar again, muttering something in Latin
that caused the scar to glow a faint gold for a moment before fading out again.
Voldemort scoffed out a mirthless chuckle as he caressed Harry's cheek. A
Horcrux. The boy was a Horcrux! His own accidental Horcrux!
'That settles it,' he thought. 'He's never leaving my side again.'
He leaned over and placed a possessive kiss over Harry's mouth, dipping his
tongue briefly between the slightly-opened lips, before he pulled away. He
smirked smugly as he waved his wand again and a Goblin-made unbreakable steel
chain and shackle closed around Harry's ankle, tethering him to the heavy bed
frame.
"Mine," he whispered, then turned and left to lock up Potter's wand in the safe
in his office, along with anything else he found in the boy's robe pockets.
Afterward, he went to shower and change his clothes, the whole time his mind
was drifting over the revelation that Harry Potter was much more than an enemy
or potential partner.
When he was clean, healed and dressed, he went back into his bedroom to find
that Harry was awake and tugging at the chain frantically with his hands,
pulling so hard that both his hands and ankle were bleeding.
"Don't bother," Voldemort said, closing the door behind himself. Harry jumped
and turned to look at him; he hadn't heard him come in. "Goblin steel. It won't
break and the bed is magically enhanced oak. You won't be able to free
yourself, short of cutting off your own foot." Harry slumped in defeat.
Voldemort stepped over to the bed, a hand fishing a couple of potion phials out
of his pockets. Harry watched him carefully as he walked at a leisurely pace
around the bed to the side Harry was chained to. "Relax, I'm not going to hurt
you." Harry frowned.
"W-What do you want with me then?" Harry asked. The Dark Lord studied Harry for
a moment, then held up the phials. "What are those?" Harry eyed the clear
phials, not recognizing the potions.
"One is a simple sleeping draught, the other is a new potion that I brewed
especially for you," Voldemort answered, enjoying Harry's look of confusion.
"You should have heard about it in school recently." He smirked when Harry's
face paled and looked frantically between his face and the phial in his hand.
"Are you going to be a good boy and drink it, or do I have to force you?"
Harry gulped and bit his lip, inching backward as far as he could until the
chain stopped him. He started shaking his head. "I-I don't want to drink it."
Voldemort sighed and rolled his eyes. "Force it is, then." He turned and set
the other phial down on the side table, then made a show of rolling up his
sleeves. Harry was still shaking his head, his mouth pinched shut and his leg
tugging on the chain. The Dark Lord knelt on the bed, grabbing Harry's leg and
tugged him closer. He climbed over Harry and pinned his flailing arms above his
head, then flicked his wand and made more chains close around the Harry's
wrists.
"No no no no no," Harry kept repeating.
"Yes," Voldemort countered, as he grabbed Harry's jaw and pried it open,
uncorking the potion phial with the other hand. There were tears in Harry's
eyes and he whimpered, as the potion was poured down his throat and then his
jaw was held shut and his nose covered - held there until he swallowed it. Once
he did, Voldemort let him go and climbed off of him, as Harry gasped in air and
coughed - hoping to gag and throw it up. "Just for that, you don't get the
other potion." He stowed the other potion phial back into his pocket and went
to the door. "I'll be back later," he said over his shoulder, then he left,
leaving Harry chained to the bed by his ankle and wrists.
Harry was left wondering why he would have wanted to take the other potion - a
sleeping draught, he said? Then he thought back to the first lesson that
introduced the potions saying something about the effects being painful. Then
he remembered Hermione's explanation one evening in the common room, after
she'd read everything she could and had figured out how it all worked.
-
"The first potion is Masculum Graviditate, Latin for Male Pregnancy. The second
isMasculum Ovi Ubertatem, Latin for Male Egg Fertilization. When someone takes
the first potion, it travels through their digestive system and collects the
drinker's magic as it goes along. Once it reaches a certain point, it begins
the growth of a magical sack inside the male body. Since this growth involves
growing not only flesh and blood, but veins and nerves as well, it's a very
painful process. That's why the drinker is also supposed to drink a sleeping
draught or pain nullifying potion, so they can get through the process without
having to feel it all. This must be done three times over three days, until the
sack is finished growing."
"A sack?" Ron asked, confused.
"Basically, the drinker would be growing their own uterus," Hermione clarified.
Ron and Harry both grimaced. "The second potion, when it is taken, also travels
through the digestive system and collects the drinker's magic as well as their
DNA, forming an egg and once it reaches the newly grown sack in deposits itself
inside and waits to be fertilized by the drinker's partner, who would have to
use the spellSeminis Inuerrereto make sure their semen goes to the right place,
shall we say."
"Where is this sack, exactly?" Harry'd asked.
"It's supposed to grow inside your colon, approximately four to six inches past
the rectum," she'd stated so matter-of-factly that it made both boys gape at
her; she was so clinical sometimes, it felt like they were talking to a
machine. At least, that was Harry's thought.
"Wait," Ron said. "Where does the baby come out?" Hermione just raised an
eyebrow. "No..." Ron shook his head, then stared at her for second and his face
turned to a mask of horror. "It comes out your bum hole?!" Hermione smirked at
his squeaky exclamation. Ron went on to mutter something about never pooping
again.
"Yes, to put it bluntly," she replied. "Though, you'd have to go to a healer to
give birth. A male's bone structure isn't right for giving birth, your coccyx
is in the way. Your tail bone?" she clarified at Ron's confused expression, who
then nodded in understanding.
-
Harry paled as he recalled what Hermione said about the first potion. "Oh,
shit..." he muttered, looking at the door Voldemort had just gone through.
He found out just how painful it can be thirty minutes later when it started to
work and an intense burning spread through his abdomen. He screamed.
TBC
***** Captivity *****
"Speech."
'Thoughts.'
"~Parseltongue.~"
Spells and potions.
+Chapter 6: Captivity+
--Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, somewhere in Northern Scotland.
Friday 1 March 1996, 05:45 a.m.--
The Headmaster's office was filled to the brim with people, but it was silent.
Dumbledore sat in his desk chair looking grim, but confused and thoughtful at
the same time. All the Order Members who had been at the Ministry were standing
about the room, trying to think of what to do next. Sirius stood off to the
side, his eyes red from crying and his fists clenched tightly in anger and
worry. Remus stood beside him, trying to comfort his old friend. Harry's
friends were sitting in chairs in front of the Headmaster's desk and on the
sofa in front of the fire. They'd already told the Order everything they knew
about why they were at the Ministry in the first place. The only person who
seemed completely unimpressed with what was going on was Snape.
"Severus," Dumbledore said, turning to the dour Potions Master. Snape turned
his full attention to the Headmaster. "I need you to do a bit of snooping. I
need to know why Voldemort took Harry and what he plans to do with him. He said
he wasn't planning to kill him, and I am quite perplexed by that. I can't think
of any reason for him to want to keep Harry alive, other than to try and turn
him to his side. But I think he knows that will never happen, Harry would never
turn his back on those who love him. He used that very loyalty Harry has to his
friends and loved ones to lure him to the Ministry, so he must know that he
won't be able to change his mind. See what you can find out." Snape simply
nodded and turned to leave. "And I need to know why he saw fit to take Miss
Lovegood, as well." Snape paused and nodded again.
"Snape," Sirius said before the man could leave. "Please? He's my godson, he's
all I have. Please find some way to bring him back." Snape stared at him for a
long moment, his expression blank. He seemed to come to some decision a minute
later, and the Potions professor gave an almost imperceptible nod and left in a
billow of black.
Hermione looked around, biting her lip, looking like she wanted to say
something. "Sir?" she finally asked, addressing Dumbledore.
"Yes, Miss Granger?"
"I think I know why he took Luna," she said quietly, but she caught everyone's
attention anyway.
"Oh?" Dumbledore asked, his eyebrows high up on his forehead.
"Well, he and Harry have some kind of mind link, you know that," she started.
When Dumbledore nodded, she continued. "Well, then he can see everything Harry
sees and hears his thoughts and everything, yes?" Again, Dumbledore nodded.
"Well, Harry thinks that Luna might be a Seer... and he's not the only one who
thinks that, either." Ron nodded from his seat, as did Neville.
"A Seer?" Remus asked curiously from his place beside an almost despondent
Sirius.
"Yes," Hermione answered. "You see, everyone just thinks she's strange or
'Loony' as everyone calls her. Harry thinks - and so do I - that Luna's
strangeness is just her way of covering up the fact that she can See. It might
also be a coping mechanism, as well. It might be a bit confusing for her, maybe
she has difficulty distinguishing what is happening around her and what she is
Seeing. I think she can See both into the future and into the past, she knows
things she couldn't possibly know otherwise. I mean, even tonight, when we went
to Umbridge's office to use the Floo, Luna was already there waiting for us by
the door when we got there. There was no way she could have known we'd be going
there! But she mentioned some creature had told her that we'd be going on an
adventure and that we'd need her help. What was it she called it?" She turned
to Ron and the other students.
"A Blibbering Humdinger," Neville supplied.
Hermione nodded. "Yes, that."
Dumbledore hummed in thought. "Very astute, Miss Granger. I'll have to speak to
Xenophilius about this, when I go to deliver him the unfortunate news that his
daughter has been kidnapped by the Dark Lord." Hermione and all the other
children in the room frowned and slumped more in their seats, obviously they
all felt guilty in some way about what happened. Dumbledore observed them for a
moment, before he turned to the returned Minerva McGonagall. Dumbledore had
taken the opportunity, while at the Ministry, to have her arrest warrant
voided, as well as starting the process of getting Sirius pardoned - now that
everything was out in the open and no one was questioning his credibility or
sanity any longer. "Minerva, if you would take the students back to their
dormitories. I think they are in need of some much deserved rest." McGonagall
nodded and started shooing the students out the door. "Oh, and students?" he
asked, gaining the attention of all the teenagers. "None of this is your fault.
None of you are responsible for what has happened, nor is Harry. The only one
at fault here is Voldemort, remember that."
Once they were gone, Dumbledore turned to the rest of his Order, trying to
think of what to tell them. There really wasn't much they could do until they
found where Harry and Luna were being held. In the end, Dumbledore only told
his Order of the Phoenix to continue what they'd been doing, and to put a
higher priority on finding the Dark Lord's followers and their lairs. They had
all left with their assignments, muttering ideas to eachother. Remus had
dragged Sirius away, muttering something about finding the werewolves.
Once his office was empty, the weary Headmaster sighed deeply and relaxed back
into his seat, looking and feeling every bit his age.
 
--Slytherin Castle, somewhere in Ireland. Friday 1 March 1996, 11:01 a.m.--
The Dark Lord Voldemort lay in his bed, beside the smaller body of his chosen.
He lay awake on his side, his head raised on his elbow, staring at the innocent
sleeping face, observing the lovely specimen. Harry Potter had grown up quite
nicely in the last year. He looked more of an adult than he did the last time
he'd seen him up close. Who knew one year could make such a difference between
a fourteen year old and a fifteen year old?
He'd taken the shackles off when he returned to his chambers, when he'd found
Potter passed out from the pain, with cuts around his wrists and ankle and tear
tracks on his cheeks. He didn't heal them yet, and he didn't feel guilty about
that, he'd warned the brat before hand, had given him the opportunity to
cooperate but he'd decided not to. Voldemort had taken notice of the bandages
on Potter's left hand, wondering why he hadn't noticed it before. When he
unwrapped them, he thought that he should have kept a better watch on the boy's
school life, because he had no idea where this wound came from, only that it
read 'I must not tell lies.' carved into the back of his hand. He'd tried
healing it, but it wouldn't close with only a simple healing charm, so he'd
wrapped it back up and decided that he'd have to find something more specific
to healing whatever this wound was, as soon as Potter woke up and answered his
questions.
He watched the boy sleep, reaching a hand to brush his hair away from the
legendary scar - the scar that held a piece of him. He ran his fingers over it
and down Harry Potter's cheek, filled with an odd sense of disbelief. He
watched Potter wince in his sleep, letting out a small whimper. Yes, there was
that slight hiccup. He'd have to find a way to touch him without causing pain,
otherwise, he would find bedding the little brat to be that much more
difficult. 'But for now, Potter will just have to bear it,' he thought, as he
wrapped his arms around the boy and pulled him against his chest, spooning him.
"Mine," he whispered possessively against the raven locks.
 
Harry awoke slowly, the first thing he noticed was how much pain he was in. His
head hurt, his wrists and hand hurt, his ankle hurt and there was a general
ache in his bones. The second thing he noticed was that he was in a bed that
was far too comfortable to be one from the Hospital Wing or Gryffindor
dormitory. Then, he noticed the warmth against his back. His eyes shot open,
and upon seeing the Slytherin colors, the events of the night before came
flooding back to him. He stiffened, turning his head slowly to look at who was
behind him. When his own emerald eyes connected with a set of curiously violet
eyes, crinkled in amusement, and noticed the face they were set into, Harry
jolted upright and scampered away. With a shout, he fell off the side of the
tall bed and landed on the hard wood floor with a dull thud.
Harry hissed in pain. "Ow, son of a..." Harry whimpered, rubbing his sore
backside.
The Dark Lord chuckled, then he was met with the sound of fabric and knobbly
limbs sliding across the floor. "Come out from under the bed," he ordered.
"...No."
"You can't stay under there forever," Voldemort argued.
"Let me go home and I'll come out," Harry tried.
"No," Voldemort parroted. Harry sighed. "Stop acting like a child and come out
of there."
"I am a child and make me," Harry hissed, then slapped his hand over his mouth,
realizing what he'd just said and to whom.
"Gladly," the Dark Lord answered, pulling out his wand and casting a summoning
charm. Like a spring had snapped, a petulant looking Harry was ejected out from
under the bed with a yelp and flung back on top of it. Barely a second later,
Harry was wrapped in tight ropes that kept him from moving his arms and legs. A
hand reached out and turned Harry, so he was lying on his side facing the Dark
Lord. Harry bit his lip and glared mutinously at the smirking and obviously
amused Voldemort. The Dark Lord that, now that Harry paid attention, he noticed
was topless - at least from what he could see, he was only topless. Harry
wanted to kick himself for blushing again.
The Dark Lord made himself comfortable, lying on his side. "First things
first," Voldemort said, reaching behind him for the potion phial he had sitting
ready on the nightstand. He brought it around and held it in front of Harry's
face.
"What's that?" Harry asked warily.
"A temporary vision correcting potion. Your glasses were left behind at the
Ministry and I don't know what strength to make them to transfigure you a new
pair, so this will have to do for now," Voldemort explained. Harry hesitated
and flicked his eyes between the phial and the Dark Lord's face - much like he
had the night before. "If you don't want it, I have no problem with letting you
stumble around blindly. More entertainment for me that way." He started turning
to put phial back on the nightstand.
"Fine," Harry grumbled.
"Open up," Voldemort instructed, uncorking the phial. Harry opened his mouth,
his eyes glaring at the man in front of him. The potion was poured into Harry's
mouth and Harry swallowed it with a grimace.
Then, Harry squeezed his eyes shut and growled, burying his face into the bed
clothes. "What is with you and giving me potions that hurt like a bitch?!" he
shouted into the mattress.
"It's not intentional, I assure you."
"You could have warned me!"
"Where's the fun in that?"
"It feels like a grindylow is chewing on my eyeballs!"
"That's an interesting mental image."
Harry lifted his head and glared at Voldemort again, only slightly surprised at
how well the potion worked; at how clearly he could see.
The Dark Lord jabbed the tip of his wand against Harry's chest. "Now then,
allow me to explain a few things to you. No, stay quiet and listen," he said,
when Harry went to open his mouth. Harry snapped his mouth shut again, because
really, he wasn't in the best position to argue. "You will not be leaving here.
I want you out of the war and out of my way, I also want those genetics of
yours to be put to good use. So, I'm not going to kill you. That would be a
waste of good wizarding blood." Harry's brow furrowed, his mouth opening to
argue again. "You're probably under the same delusion as the rest of the
Wizarding World, thinking I want blood purity, but I'll let you in on a little
secret - I don't. No, that would make me a hypocrite, as I myself am only a
half-blood." Now Harry seemed thoroughly confused. "I only allow people to
think that's what I want, because that's what most of my followers want, since
most of them are Purebloods and I wish to keep them relatively happy... for
now. But I'm only using my Pureblood followers for their political power and
their knowledge of Dark Magic. No, I could care less about the purity of one's
blood. What I care about is the Magic. You see, if things continue the way they
have been, Magic itself will die out, I want to change that. I have no
intention of killing off all the Muggleborns, it's their blood that is the
future of the Wizarding World. The only problem is, they're bringing their
Muggle superstitions and religions into the Wizarding World with them. Add on
top of that, the Ministry is getting lazy. The old practices are dying out, and
that's something that cannot happen. Magic is in itself a religion, you might
say. There are rituals and traditions that need to be observed in order to keep
the Magic strong. Magic has to be used to its full extent to keep it from
stagnating and then fading away.
I need the power my Pureblood followers hold in the Wizengamot to put laws into
motion that will enforce the old traditions and laws that will allow the
removal of Muggleborn children from their Muggle upbringings. I know, I know,
everyone thinks that's a heartless and cruel thing to do - taking children from
their parents - but the thing is, most Muggleborn children end up being shunned
or abused by their Muggle families, because their thick-headed parents and
relatives don't understand what is going on with their children. Very few
Muggles have the capacity to appreciate their Magical children." At this point,
Harry was frowning and looking away from Voldemort's eyes. "I gather you know
what I'm talking about. You were raised by Muggle relatives, correct?"
Voldemort asked. Harry reluctantly nodded. "And I assume they didn't understand
you or might have even been scared of you?"
Harry nodded again, still not meeting the Dark Lord's eyes. "They didn't want
to understand," Harry muttered. "They were content to just think of me as a
freak."
Voldemort nodded. "I was raised in a similar situation. I was brought up in an
orphanage, a Muggle orphanage. See, that's something else that needs changing.
Whenever a Magical child is orphaned, there is nowhere for them to go but a
Muggle orphanage. I want to establish Magical orphanages, that are equipped to
deal with young wizards and witches who lose control of their Magic. Also, I
wish to make sure those orphanages are funded well enough, that the children in
them aren't fighting each other for food and clothing, and to make sure the
directors and employees aren't able to embezzle the money they are meant to
spend on the children."
Harry looked up at Voldemort, looking a little stricken. "That... actually
makes a lot of sense."
"It does," the Dark Lord nodded. "But no one else has bothered to try and
change any of this, they just allow things to continue the way they have been.
To continue in a way that they are comfortable and familiar with. No one wants
to make the hard choices to ensure the future, they only want to make sure they
don't hurt anyone else's feelings." Voldemort sneered. "But I will. I don't
care about what anyone else thinks or feels, I will do what needs to be done.
It would be easier and more effective for the Wizarding World to work together,
but, alas, all the Muggleborns are offended by the notion of taking them and
others like them from their families. I've tried to get the old ways reinstated
back into the Hogwart's curriculum, but Dumbledore is one of those people who
wants to make everyone happy, or at least the majority happy, but the majority
is Muggleborn."
"Well, all things considered, I think you're going about this all wrong," Harry
muttered haltingly. "But this doesn't explain why you want me here and are
forcefeeding me pregnancy potions."
The Dark Lord raised a challeging eyebrow. "'Going about this all wrong'?" he
quoted, ignoring Harry's other statement.
Harry looked away. "Well, I don't know enough about the old ways to know what
needs to change, but I don't think you need to take children from their
families. I think it would make a huge difference if children and their
families were just educated about Magic at an earlier age. Especially
Muggleborns and Muggle-raised. I admit, finding out I was a wizard at eleven
was one hell of a rabbit hole to suddenly fall into," he ended, looking up at
the Dark Lord again.
"You didn't know you were a wizard before then?" Voldemort asked, masking his
surprise.
Harry bit his lip and looked away again. "No, my relatives were convinced they
could stamp it out of me, so they never said anything. I didn't know I was a
wizard until Hagrid came to get me to take me shopping for my school supplies."
He flinched when Voldemort suddenly started growling.
"That. Is exactly. What I'm talking about!" the Dark Lord said through gritted
teeth, glaring at Harry.
"Okay! But stop looking at me like it's my fault!" Harry squeaked. Voldemort
rolled over the other way, flinging the comforter off of himself and standing
up. Harry blushed all the way up to his ears when he realized the man had been
completely naked the whole time. The Dark Lord started pacing, hissing to
himself. Harry cringed when he noticed the snake by the fire, when it uncoiled
itself and slithered over to the Dark Lord, to slither up and over his
shoulders, hissing in a comforting manner. Harry couldn't help the sudden
tightness in his jeans. It was quite a sight - a handsome, well-toned man
looking to be in his mid-twenties, with lightly tanned skin, standing
completely naked in the middle of the room with a massive snake curled around
his shoulders.
Harry forced the arousal down and wriggled a little in his bindings. "Um...,"
he murmured, hesitant to get the angry Dark Wizard's attention, but he got it
anyway. "Could you possibly untie me? My arms are going numb." The Dark Lord
lazily flicked his wand and Harry was released, then he went back to pacing
around, naked, as though Harry weren't even there. Harry sat up and rubbed at
the places where the ropes had been digging in. He hesitated again, then
decided it couldn't wait anymore. "Where's the bathroom?" Voldemort pointed
over his shoulder to a door that stood open behind him. Harry slipped off of
the bed and went into the bathroom and relieved his full bladder of its load.
When he returned to the bedroom, he limped over to the bed and sat back down.
He looked around, wondering what he should do, when Nagini, the snake,
slithered off of Voldemort's shoulders and over to the bed. She slithered up
onto the bed and over to Harry, raising herself up to observe him. She flicked
her tongue out, the tip of it brushing Harry's cheek, making him shiver.
"~Hello!~" Harry hissed to her in Parseltongue.
The Dark Lord's head shot around to look at Harry. He'd known the boy could
speak Parseltongue, but hearing it out of his mouth was still surprising.
"~Greetingssss, Hatchling,~" Nagini replied, slithering up onto his lap.
"~Hatchling?~" Harry asked.
"~You are not adult yet, you are hatchling,~" she answered, curling her body
around him and settling down. Harry reached out and hesitantly stroked her
diamond-shaped head. She hissed in pleasure and curled around him tigher,
coaxing him into continuing, which he gladly did. When he started scratching
the back of her head lightly, she tilted her head to give him better access,
hissing a little more loudly. "~Oh, yessss, right there!~" she hissed, her
tongue flicking and her head swaying in bliss. Harry chuckled and scratched a
little harder, going down her body a little, scratching away dead scales that
hadn't fallen off the last time she'd shed. She settled down on his lap,
hissing pleasantly, curling the rest of her body around him and holding him in
an almost loving embrace.
"~You going to sleep, then?~" Harry asked her. She stayed silent and simply
nudged her head against his hand, to get him to keep scratching and patting
her. He kept going, really not minding giving the snake the affection she
wanted from him.
"You're getting scales all over my bed," a deep voice cut in. Harry looked up
and met the Dark Lord's intense stare, and blushed. He stopped scratching
Nagini's head, much to her dismay. She nudged his hand again, trying to get him
to continue.
"Sorry," Harry muttered.
The Dark Lord waved it off. "It's fine, it's already full of her scales
anyway," he said, pacing around the bed. "Though, it's your own fault when she
starts getting spoiled and won't leave you alone."
Harry giggled and shrugged, then started scratching her scales again. When
Harry couldn't take the stare coming from the Dark Lord anymore, he looked up
at him and blushed deeper. "Could you... put some clothes on?" he asked,
looking away.
Voldemort smirked evilly and paced over to stand in front of Harry. "No," he
said, his smirk widening when Harry looked up at him and seemed to choke when
he realized his face was level with the Dark Lord's groin. "Does it bother
you?"
"N-No," Harry lied terribly, hastily looking away again.
"You know we have a link between our minds," the Dark Lord started, leaning
down to put his hands on the bed on either side of Harry, putting their faces
inches apart. "I know all about your dreams, Harry," he purred, enjoying the
bright red of the boy's face. Harry's eyes widened and he tried to back up, but
Nagini was a dead weight, holding him where he was. "They weren't a one-sided
affair, though." He chuckled at Harry's mortified expression. The Dark Lord
took on a contemplative expression, peering at Harry like Hermione would peer
at a new book. "In approximately two weeks, I will be having you, right here on
this bed, whether you like it or not. My only debate is whether to... 'break
you in' before hand?" He grinned wolfishly, as Harry's eyes widened and he
shook his head frantically. "Then again, you've had a number of others
'breaking you in' as of late, haven't you?" Voldemort asked darkly through
gritted teeth, his amused violet eyes going red in fury. Voldemort silently
debated for a moment, as Harry's face paled drastically. Then, Voldemort
snatched his hand behind Harry's neck and pulled him in for a rough kiss. Harry
squeaked, his hands pushing against the muscular body that was pushing him
backward and climbing over him, dislodging Nagini.
Nagini slithered away, muttering indignantly about, "~Stupid mammals!~"
Harry kept his mouth firmly closed, his hands pushing and slapping at the Dark
Lord; flailing limbs effectively made him look like a flopping fish. Voldemort
grabbed Harry's arms and pinned them down, as he bit at the brat's lips to get
them open, plunging his tongue into the warm and whimpering cavern. Then, one
of Harry's flailing limbs - his left leg to be precise - made contact with a
naked groin. Voldemort hissed and growled against Harry's lips, his grip
loosening on the boy's wrists. Harry pulled his hands free and planted them
against the Dark Lord's face and pushed his head up and away from him.
"Get off me!" Harry shouted, as he panted from lack of air, his lips bruised,
while he kept his hands on Voldemort's face.
Voldemort started growling angrily - only for his growl to be overshadowed by a
louder growl coming from Harry's stomach. Harry 's ears burned and he blushed
down his neck, as the Dark Lord sighed heavily, his eyes going from a furious
crimson red to an annoyed reddish pink.
One of Voldemort's eyes was twitching in annoyance, as he sat up. "To be
continued," the Dark Lord grumbled and got up off of Harry, making his way to
his enormous walk-in closet.
Harry heaved a deep sigh of relief and sat up, watching the door the Dark Lord
had gone through. He rubbed at his wrists, still covered in cuts from the
shackles and now bruises from Voldemort's grip. He sighed again despairingly.
What was he supposed to do now? 'Stuck in Voldemort's home -in his bedroom!-
with no wand and being forced to take potions so he can knock me up!?' Harry
thought angrily. 'The World has been flipped upside down and I didn't even
notice!'
"Stop thinking so hard, you'll strain something," Voldemort said, as he came
out of his closet dressed in sleek black robes with emerald green trim. Harry's
gaze trailed over him briefly, his cheeks blushing again and his heartbeat
fluttering. "Follow me," the Dark Lord commanded, walking to the huge set of
double doors that led out of the room and into the corridor.
Harry scooted off of the bed gingerly, his wrists and ankle sore from the
shackles and his body achy from his escapade through the Ministry of Magic. He
padded barefoot through the room and to the door that Voldemort was holding
open, waiting for him. Voldemort slammed the door behind them, taking out some
of his ire on the door. Harry flinched and followed the irritated Dark Lord
down the short corridor when he stalked away. Harry tried to keep up with him,
but he kept limping and Voldemort was walking at a brisk pace. After a moment,
Voldemort walked through a door and left it open for Harry to follow. When
Harry walked into the room, he noticed it was a smaller dining room for a
castle this size, with a table that only held room for about eight people.
There were two place settings, one at the head of the table, where Voldemort
sat, and one on his immediate right. Harry limped over and sat, his stomach
rumbling in anticipation when food appeared as soon as he was seated. His mouth
started watering and he glanced at the Dark Lord to see that he was already
filling his own plate, then dove into the brunch set before him, not sure how
long he would have to eat. He filled his plate with one of the egg and ham
sandwiches, some bacon, a couple peeled hard-boiled eggs, and grabbed a waffle
that he topped with fruit and maple syrup. He started eating and his eyes
fluttered shut at how good it tasted. They ate in silence, Harry polished off
his plate fairly quickly, his eyes flicking to the berry fruit tarts that were
in front of him. He snatched one up and started eating it. He glanced at
Voldemort, and faltered a little to notice he was being watched closely by the
man, who had an amused air about him. Harry blushed faintly and looked away,
nibbling on the fruit tart.
"You're eating as though you're afraid I will take it away from you," Voldemort
commented.
Harry shrugged. "Wasn't sure if you would actually let me eat or just taunt me
with the food."
The Dark Lord rolled his eyes. "I only do things like that to prisoners."
"And I'm not a prisoner?" Harry asked skeptically.
"Not really," Voldemort said, still watching Harry. "You're just an unwilling
permanent guest, for now."
"Isn't that the same thing?" Harry frowned.
"Not in this case," Voldemort told him, sitting back in his chair. "Unless
you'd prefer to stay in the dungeons? I assure you, they are not a pleasant
place to be." Harry shook his head hastily. "Good, then. Eat as much as you
want." And the Dark Lord went back to his own food. Harry ate at a more
leisurely pace after that, the silence a little more comfortable between them.
Soon that comfortable silence started getting a bit strained again. Voldemort's
eyes had gotten darker, as if he was thinking about something he didn't like,
judging by the pain shooting through Harry's head. Harry didn't comment or ask
what was going through his mind, even when Voldemort turned his gaze back to
Harry, watching him with eyes that were steadily getting redder.
"Why?" Voldemort practically growled at him.
Harry looked at him warily, swallowing his mouthful of food. "Why what?"
"Why did you let those brats touch you?"
"What?" Harry asked, not entirely sure what he was talking about.
"I saw it all, you know," Voldemort hissed. "All those TRYSTS of yours. I paid
close attention to when you let those others touch you, and to who those others
were."
Harry scowled. "Well, you shouldn't have! That was all private!" Harry shouted.
"Seamus Finnegan, Colin Creevey. Draco Malfoy, oh, am I going to torture him!
And that Seer! Lee Jordan and those WEASLEYS!" the Dark Lord bellowed. "You've
really been around, haven't you!?"
"It's none of your business what I do with whomever I choose to do it with,
when I choose to do it!" Harry yelled, inwardly fretting what the Dark Lord
would do with those names.
"You are my business!" Voldemort stood, slamming his hands on the table,
knocking his chair over and knocking quite a few things off the table. Harry
flinched, wincing at the pain shooting through his scar.
"Since when?!" Harry asked, also standing.
Voldemort grabbed the front of Harry's shirt and yanked him forward, putting
the fingers of his other hand to Harry's scar. "Since this!"
Harry hissed in pain and tried to tug himself free. "What gives you the right
to have any say in how I live my life?! Because I've had enough of it! You've
been fucking up my life since before I can remember! Why can't you just leave
me alone?!" He shoved the Dark Lord backward as hard as he could. He heard the
fabric of his t-shirt tearing as Voldemort stumbled away, his shirt collar
tearing a little along the seams, but he ignored it.
The Dark Lord's eyes went a bright crimson, and he was seething with anger (and
just a tiny amount of desire - he refused to admit to the jealousy), his anger
was so potent that the pain in Harry's head was almost blinding. Harry and
Voldemort stood and stared at each other for a tense moment, both of them
panting from the spike of adrenaline that went through them in anticipation of
a fight. Harry didn't have anything that he could have used as a weapon, except
the cutlery, but he doubted that would go over well against a wand-armed Dark
Lord. So, he decided he might as well try to make a break for it, and he
started lobbing random things from the table at Voldemort (who looked almost
surprised to get hit in the head with muffins), as Harry started walking
backwards toward the door that they had first come in through.
Voldemort angrily swiped his wand, and everything on the table was sent
careening onto the floor on the opposite side of the table from Harry - he
greatly enjoyed the sound of expensive china shattering. With another flick of
his wand, the door slammed shut and locked just as Harry got to it. Harry
growled and slammed his fists against the door, before turning back to face
Voldemort. He flinched back when he found the Dark Lord inches away from him.
(How did he get so close so fast?) Voldemort slammed Harry against the door,
with what Harry could only describe as intense lust in his eyes. He stabbed his
wand against Harry's throat, his magic super heating the tip in his fury,
burning Harry's skin. But Harry didn't care, he slapped the arm and wand away
from him, making Voldemort lose his grip on his wand and drop it, and he
followed it up with a right hook to the Dark Lord's jaw. The Dark Lord
Voldemort stumbled backward in mild surprise; because he was a proud wizard and
he couldn't believe he was getting into a fist fight with a boy who was half
his size, again. He saw red and lunged forward, simultaneously grabbing Harry's
right arm in a bruising grip and burying the knuckles of his own right hand
into Harry's solar plexus, knocking the wind out of him. He then swung Harry
around by his arm and slammed him onto the table with a loud crash. Harry
grunted, pain going through his spine from being slammed against the hard wood,
his head bouncing against the hard surface from the force.
He lay there limp and dazed for a few moments, long enough for Voldemort to pin
him to the table and slam his mouth to Harry's, bestowing Harry with an angry
and violently passionate kiss. Voldemort's tongue forced its way into Harry's
mouth for the second time that day, causing a small moan to come out of a
startled Harry. Teeth bit into Harry's lips and tongue, a dominant tongue
licking up the blood and a warm mouth sucking on the wounds.
Voldemort pulled away, panting. "The sheer audacity you have to question me, to
argue with me? Shout at me, to HIT me?! You should count yourself lucky,
because anyone else would be dead." With that, he bit harshly into Harry's
lower lip, making Harry whimper, then he trailed bloody kisses and nips down
Harry's jaw, to his neck, where he bit, sucked and gnawed to leave a large,
dark purple mark. Staking his claim.
Harry whimpered again, the fuzziness from hitting his head so hard finally
wearing off. "Get off me," he muttered, trying to yank his arms free from the
Dark Lord's grip. Voldemort whispered a spell and released Harry's arms, but
when Harry tried to move them, he found them magically stuck to the table.
"You're mine," the Dark Lord said huskily, his hands gripping Harry's stretched
and torn shirt. With a vicious tug, he ripped the t-shirt open, making Harry
gasp and struggle harder to get free. Voldemort went to kiss the newly exposed
flesh but stopped when he got a good look. His breath hitched and, immediately,
a great deal of the Dark Lord's lust was replaced by rage, when he saw Harry's
chest and sides were covered in vivid scars, and he'd wager his back was just
as bad - if not worse. "Who did this?" he hissed softly.
"What?" Harry asked confusedly, then glanced down to see what he was staring
at. Harry groaned and let his head thump back onto the table. "There're
supposed to be glamours covering those!"
"There are wards around this castle that nullify stealth and disguise spells
and potions, including glamours. Now, who did this!? Your relatives, give me
their names!" Voldemort asked in a dangerous tone. He recognized those scars,
he'd seen scars like them before, he even had a few like them before, until he
used magic to get rid of them. They were the tell tale scars of abuse, severe
and violent abuse; Harry had been whipped, with what he assumed was a belt,
buckle side down; Harry had been cut and scratched and burned and heaven only
knew what else.
Harry stayed quiet and avoided Voldemort's gaze. "It's none of your concern."
"It is my concern," Voldemort hissed. "We've been over this, you are mine.
Whoever did this needs to be punished, to learn their place!"
Harry turned to glare at him. "I really wish you would stop referring to me
like I'm some kind of object! I don't belong to anyone, least of all, YOU!" He
started struggling to get up again, but his arms were still stuck to the table,
so all he could do was wriggle and kick his legs. Unfortunately, he was't in
the right position to kick the Dark Lord like last time; this time, Voldemort
was firmly between his legs. And there was something poking him in the hip, and
he knew it wasn't his wand. 'Voldemort is turned on by violence; really should
have seen that one coming,' Harry thought.
The Dark Lord chuckled with a sadistic mirth. "Kick and scream all you want, it
won't change anything. And you're avoiding the question!"
"You really think I'm going to tell you anything?"
"These scars are obviously from abuse, I've seen scars like them before. It
wouldn't take much to find out where you live during the summer. I already know
you live in Surrey somewhere," Voldemort threatened. Harry's glare turned icy
and he managed to turn his leg just enough to ram his knee into the Dark Lord's
side. Said Dark Lord shouted in startled pain, and grabbed Harry's legs,
pushing them open and away from his sides. He took the opportunity to grind his
hips against Harry's groin, causing the teenager to gasp and jerk. The jerking
motion made Harry's hips press upwards against the Dark Lord, who let out a
growling moan as his cock twitched. "Perhaps, we should save this discussion
for later," he said, looking at Harry with a predatory glint in his eye. He
leaned in and ran his tongue over one of Harry's nipples, lapping at the pert
pink nub. Harry couldn't hold in the whimper...
Then there was a knock at the door.
Voldemort growled and ignored it, angrily biting the nub he had just been
tasting, making Harry shout in surprise and pain (and he was ashamed to say it
was in pleasure as well).
There was another, more urgent knock.
"WHAT?!" Voldemort shouted furiously over his shoulder, in the direction of the
door. His arousal deflated in his annoyance.
A gruff voice called from the other side of the door. "My lord, I apologize for
interrupting, but I need to speak with you."
The horny older wizard growled louder, standing up straight and raising his
hand to summon his wand from across the room. When the wand went soaring back
into its master's hand, Harry was filled with disappointment, annoyance and
clear disdain, knowing now that Voldemort had the situation, and him, under his
control the whole time! The Dark Lord adjusted his appearance and flicked his
wand to unlock and open the door, leaving Harry stuck to the table for now.
"What do you want, Greyback, that is so important that you interrupt me at meal
time?" Voldemort intoned, his wand hand twitching with his effort to control
his desire to send the Cruciatus Curse at the damned cock-blocking werewolf.
"We have a couple intruders, my Lord," Greyback answered, his hulking figure
stepping into the room and surveying the mess and Harry with a slight smirk on
his face.
"Why bother me with this? Just kill them!" Voldemort snarled.
"I would, my Lord, but I was under the impression that you wanted to keep this
little minx of yours happy." Fenrir Greyback flashed a predatory grin at Harry.
"Watch yourself, Greyback," Voldemort warned, not liking the look on Fenrir's
face one bit. "Who are these intruders?" Fenrir grinned and turned back to the
door, disappearing beyond it. He returned a moment later, dragging two bound
bodies behind him by thick ropes. He dropped the squirming but silenced
captives at the Dark Lord's feet. Voldemort raised his eyebrow as he looked
down at the prisoners. "How exactly did they manage to find this place so
quickly? How did they find it at all?!" he asked the werewolf, who was pouting
a little in shame.
"I apologize, my Lord, I believe they followed me and my pack, when we returned
after the raid last ni-," Greyback didn't get to finish, as he was on the floor
under the Cruciatus Curse, gritting his teeth and forcing himself not to utter
a sound.
Harry lifted his head up as far as he could, to see who it was tied up on the
floor. He could see the bodies wriggling in their bonds, but not their faces.
He forced himself up further, putting his shoulders in a very uncomfortable
position; one wrong move and he would dislocate them. When he saw the shaggy,
dark hair on one of them, and noticing the tattered state of the clothes of the
other, he gasped in dread. "Siri?! Remmy?!" The squirming bodies started
thrashing harder at the sound of his voice. With a flick of the Dark Lord's
wand, Fenrir was released from the curse and Harry was released from his
position on the table. Fenrir stood shakily and Harry slid off the table to the
floor that was covered in broken glass and china. He ignored the sharp debris
cutting into his hands and knees in favor of crawling over to the two bound
figures, who were desperately fighting against their restraints, their mouths
moving but no sound escaped them. He reached Sirius first, who was looking more
and more angry by the second, as he took in the sight of Harry's torn shirt,
bruised abdomen, and cut and bruised wrists. He also saw the scars that
littered Harry's body, his eyes darkening with anger, probably convinced they
were all made by Voldemort somehow.
Remus watched Harry from the other side of Sirius, his nose sniffing and taking
in the scent of pain, anger and desire rolling off of Harry and the Dark Lord.
He wasn't entirely sure what to make of the situation.
Voldemort squatted on the other side of the two captives, watching Harry's
face. "Well, isn't this a fortunate turn of events?" he said, glancing at the
thrashing figures. "Will you answer that question you were avoiding, Harry, or
should I torture the information out of these two? I'm sure they know where you
spend your summers." Harry looked up sharply at him, then back down to Sirius
and Remus. "What will it be? Will you protect these two, or will you protect
your abusers?" Sirius and Remus stilled, listening to the Dark Lord talk, and
wondering what he meant. Abusers?
Harry bit his lip, glaring at Voldemort, weighing his options. He knew the man
would torture his godfathers and possibly kill them, and there was nothing
Harry could do to stop him, except to tell him about the Dursleys. But then if
he told him about his relatives, he would go torture and kill them. His blood
relatives or his family by love, the people who actually care about him? It was
a hard decision, but one that he could make.
He stayed silent for a few moments, watching Sirius and Remus look back at him.
"My mother's sister, Petunia, and her husband, Vernon Dursley, and their son,
Dudley," Harry answered solemnly, his shoulders slumping in defeat and tears
building in his eyes. Sirius and Remus were both obviously feeling angry and
ashamed. Their quest to find and rescue Harry had been partially successful,
but in their efforts they'd forced him to sell out his family to save their
sorry hides.
"Address?" Voldemort prompted.
"Number 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey."
Voldemort smiled sadistically, reaching a long fingered hand to comb through
Harry's messy, silky, black locks. "Good boy."
 
--Little Whinging, Surrey. A moment later.--
The house of Number 4 trembled as though from a mild earthquake, when the
powerful wards fell as the protection of blood was broken. The only two people
currently in the house shrieked and shouted in surprise; the wife dropping the
dish she had been drying, shattering it on the floor; the husband dropping his
car keys and briefcase in the hall as he was on his way out to his car to go
back to work after lunch. Both of them had only one thought as the trembling
stopped. 'The Freak!'
TBC
***** Nurture *****
Chapter Summary
     Voldemort kidnaps the Dursleys.
Chapter Notes
     Sorry it took so long to post this. I've been having some computer
     trouble.
      
     There are some graphic depictions of blood, gore and minor torture in
     this chapter. FAIR WARNING!
"Speech."
'Thoughts.'
"~Parseltongue.~"
Spells and potions.
+Chapter 7: Nurture+
 
--Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Friday 1 March 1996. Headmaster's
office. 12:25 p.m.--
Headmaster Dumbledore was startled out of his reverie and staring contest with
the correspondence he should have been tending to, by a loud whistling sound
coming from one of his own inventions. It was the one he'd made to monitor the
wards around Harry's home at Privet Drive. The Headmaster's face paled when he
saw the instrument billow red smoke, alerting him that the wards had been
broken.
His first thought was that Harry must have divulged the address to Voldemort
under torture or blackmail. The only question was: Why did Voldemort want
access to Number 4 Privet Drive if he already had Harry?
His next thought had him rushing to his fireplace, making Floo calls and
sending out Fawkes and numerous Patroni, calling an emergency Order meeting.
 
--Down in the Great Hall. Same moment.--
Lunch was coming to an end, but the Great Hall was still fairly full. The room
was uncharacteristically quiet.
The Wizarding World knew now that Voldemort was indeed back, and that Harry had
been telling the truth the whole time. They knew that Harry had been at the
Ministry last night and had tried to fight against Voldemort himself with a
bunch of his classmates, because there weren't any fully trained adults who
would listen to him. The Daily Prophet that morning was full of retraction
articles, and apologies towards Harry and Dumbledore. There was even an article
from Rita Skeeter praising Harry's abilities and for his teaching skills in
teaching his friends how to defend themselves well enough to stand up against a
crowd of Death Eaters and survive - Hermione had made sure that insufferable
beetle knew exactly what Harry had done to try and protect the Wizarding World,
even if that Wizarding World had turned its back on him. There was talk of
impeaching Cornelius Fudge and firing Dolores Umbridge, even possible prison
time for both of them.
The whole school knew by now what had happened at the Ministry and what
happened to Harry and Luna. The Gryffindor table was silent without it's
prince, the Ravenclaw table was quiet with the loss of its eccentric entity,
Hufflepuff was also subdued, even the Slytherin table was quiet, though it was
a tense silence. Draco Malfoy hadn't even made any taunts, especially after his
father had come to the school that morning and had tried to take him home, but
after a muted argument, Malfoy Senior had left with a scowl on his face and
without his son.
As for the few students who had been at the Ministry the night before, the
teachers had allowed them to go to class that day - even though Defense Against
the Dark Arts was cancelled, as well as Potions, until Professor Snape could
return - in hopes that it would take their minds off of everything. But it was
for naught. Hermione wasn't even bothering with her schoolwork that day, she
just kept sighing in class and breaking down into silent sobs, because there
was nothing she could think of to do, to help her friend. There was nothing to
research, no puzzles to solve, nowhere to even start looking. She felt useless!
Ron didn't know how to comfort her, since he was doing his best just to keep
himself from crying as well. Ginny was beside herself, her eyes hadn't dried
once since she woke up, but she managed to keep her sobbing to a minimum.
Neville was just as obviously depressed, he just sat and stared at nothing.
Seamus and the Twins weren't even bothering to try to make jokes about
anything. At the moment, Fred was just pushing his food around his plate
without eating any of it, George had his hands in his lap, he hadn't even
bothered to fix himself a plate for lunch. Seamus had been slowly chewing the
same mouthful of food all through lunch.
Suddenly, Hermione slammed her cutlery down onto the table and stood up. Any
sound there might have been in the Great Hall went silent, and all attention
turned to the angry bushy-haired muggleborn.
"'Mione?" Ron asked, looking at her warily.
"I'm going to see the Headmaster," she said, grabbing up her bag. "There has to
be something more we can do!" With that, there was scrambling from several
Gryffindors to stand and follow her. Hermione turned to see that everyone who
had been with her last night had stood up, so did more than half of Gryffindor,
including the Quidditch team and several underclassmen. "No, you lot stay here.
If there's anything we can do, I'll make sure you know and that the Headmaster
knows you've volunteered your assistance," she told them all. Almost all of
them pouted and sat down again, except for the four Weasleys and Neville.
"You're not going anywhere without us!" Ginny said stubbornly and preceded
Hermione out of the Great Hall. Hermione sighed and gave a wry smile to the
others, then turned and followed the fiery redhead.
 
When they arrived at the Headmaster's office, they found the gargoyle had
already moved aside, so they went up the stairs and knocked on the door. The
door was opened immediately by a confused looking Tonks.
"What are you lot doing here?" she asked.
"We wanted to talk to the Headmaster," Hermione answered.
"There's an Order meeting starting in a few minutes, you'll have to wait,"
Tonks told them apologetically.
"No, let them in, Nymphadora. We have time until the others arrive," said
Dumbledore's voice. Tonks opened the door and let the six of them in. Hermione
walked straight up to the Headmaster. "Yes, Miss Granger?"
"Sir, I know you think we're all too young to do anything to help, but I have
to insist that you reconsider that judgement," Hermione told him boldly. "If
there's anything we can do to help, even if we might get hurt, then please let
us. That goes for all of us, even most of the other Gryffindor students. They
all wanted to come up here and demand to help."
"Well, I don't know what you can do to help, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said,
frowning. "I don't even know what I can do to help." He gestured to the smoking
instrument that he'd put on his desk in front of him. "We've run across a
situation, it seems. The wards around Harry's home on Privet Drive have fallen.
The Dursleys are completely defenseless, and the only way this could have
happened, is if the blood protection between Harry and his relatives was
betrayed or revoked somehow. I would assume that Harry has been forced into
divulging his family's whereabouts. But I have no idea why Voldemort would want
to hurt them, now that he has Harry. Other than possibly using them as leverage
to control Harry."
"I don't think that's it," Hermione said thoughtfully.
"Oh, and why is that?" Dumbledore asked, intrigued.
"Something Luna said," Hermione answered, turning to look at Ron and the
others. "On the train home for the winter holidays. Harry had woken up from a
nightmare after he'd fallen sleep in the compartment. She said Harry's dreams
had changed because someone was changing his mind. I don't think she meant
Harry was the one changing his mind, but Voldemort. Voldemort was changing his
mind, has changed his mind about something. He did say he wasn't going to kill
Harry, but he must still have plans that involve Harry, or he wouldn't have
taken him."
"Voldemort has changed his mind," Dumbledore muttered to himself. He directed
his attention back to Hermione. "I don't suppose you have any idea what he's
changed his mind about and why he might need to know the location of Harry's
home and family?"
"I have an idea... but it's far-fetched," Hermione admitted.
"Doesn't matter how far-fetched it might seem, an idea could be all we need to
figure this out." By now all the Order members that had been alerted had
arrived, except a certain werewolf and animagus that no one has noticed the
absense of, yet.
"Well...," Hermione hesitated, a slight blush coming up on her cheeks. "Ron and
Neville noticed something that I think Harry was trying to hide, but I don't
think he realizes just how close of attention we all give him. I think Harry's
still not used to having friends who worry about him..."
"What Hermione is beating around the bush about," Ron started, taking a leaf
from Hermione's book, when she finishes speaking for him every time he rambles
on. "Is that Harry's nightmares about Voldemort have changed from
nightmares...," Ron said, grimacing. "To wet dreams. And if his nightmares are
any clue, the dreams weren't all coming from Harry." Dumbledore sat there,
speechless, his blue eyes wide and twinkling.
"Wait," Neville said, scrunching up his face. "When did Harry's dreams change,
exactly?"
"The day we left for winter holidays," Hermione answered. "As far as we know."
"You mean, the day right after those new potions were splattered across the
papers?" Neville asked, his Pureblood upbringing pointing out the obvious to
him.
Everyone in the room gaped, jaws almost hitting the floor as realization dawned
on them. Dumbledore was looking almost gob-smacked, which was an interesting
expression on the wizened old man.
"Ew!" Ron said. "Snake Breath wants to get Harry up the duff?!" Hermione
suddenly took on a calculating expression, while Dumbledore looked to be
puzzling over something as well.
Dumbledore was vividly remembering his brief encounter with Tom Riddle at the
Ministry last night.
"Tom, don't do this," Dumbledore implored.
"Do what, Albus?" Voldemort taunted. He gave the Headmaster a lazy shrug. "I
don't plan on killing him any time soon, I promise. I still need him!" The Dark
Lord pressed a mocking kiss to Harry's forehead and throwing a wink at the
aging wizard.
"Oh, my gods, that is what he's after," Dumbledore muttered to himself. "The
Potter family has a lot of power, both politically and magically, and Harry is
the sole heir to it all. Voldemort hasn't been able to find a way to make
himself truly immortal, so he wants an heir that would likely be more powerful
than even himself."
"That still doesn't explain what he wants with Harry's Muggle family," Tonks
pointed out.
"Well, if Harry were to die before he could give birth, everything would go to
next of kin, which is the Dursleys," Dumbledore said. "Though, I'm not sure
that's it..."
"I don't think that's it," Fred chimed in, gaining everyone's attention. George
looked at his brother with a look that was asking him what the hell he was
doing, a new expression on one of the Weasley twins.
"Mister Weasley?" Dumbledore prompted.
Fred glanced at his brother, shrugging his shoulder. "You-Know-Who is a
possessive sort of person, isn't he?" he asked, turning back to Dumbledore, who
nodded. "And a sort of sadistic kind of possessive?" Another affirmative nod.
"Well, that means he wouldn't want someone else to touch something that he
thinks is his, right? Especially if that someone hurt that something of his?"
"What are you getting at?" Molly Weasley asked her twin sons.
George continued the deduction. "Well, if You-Know-Who is over there feeling
Harry up, he's bound to notice a few things amiss."
"What do you mean?" Dumbledore asked.
"Oh!" Hermione gasped. "His scars!"
The Twins turned incredulous eyes on her. "How did you know about those?" they
asked in unison.
Hermione snorted. "Who do you think helped him find the glamour charms to hide
them?"
"What scars!" Dumbledore asked in a raised voice, rising from his seat.
The students in the room turned to the Headmaster with wide, guilty eyes - like
they'd been caught smuggling firewhiskey into the dormitory.
"Harry's relatives aren't exactly the kindest or gentlest Muggles you'll ever
meet," Ron said, by way of answering. "Especially that uncle of his," he added
through gritted teeth.
"Wait, how do you know about that?" Fred asked his brother. "We had to
basically pry it out of him!"
"How do you know about it?" Ron challenged, even though he knew the answer. He
just wanted to see his twin brothers blush, which they did and then tried to
avoid his gaze.
"Harry doesn't always notice right away when the glamours wear off," Neville
answered, making everyone turn to him. "Especially in the morning when he's
barely awake and headed for the shower."
"And he's told me about some of the abuse," Ron said and shrugged at his
brothers, who were staring at him with a small amount of jealousy that Harry
had confided in him first and not them. "I'm his best friend!"
"Are you all telling me that those Muggles beat him?!" Molly asked, her voice
rising to a shriek and her face paling. "Why didn't he ever tell anyone?!"
"He's ashamed of it," Hermione answered. "I tried to tell him that he has
nothing to be ashamed of, that his relatives are the ones who should be
ashamed, but he wouldn't listen. He told Ron and I not to tell anyone about it,
so we didn't."
Dumbledore sat back down, sighing wearily. "If I had known, I would have
removed him from that environment."
Molly choked on a sob. "Is that why you were always so adamant that we invite
him to stay for the summer?" she asked Ron.
Ron nodded. "And why I always asked you if we could send him food. They didn't
feed him either. Why do you think he's so skinny and short?"
"Because they starved him and locked him in a cupboard all the time," Hermione
added bitterly, her eyes glistening with tears. She decided she might as well
tell them everything, if there was a chance it would help. "It stunted his
growth. Then they also made him do all the cooking and cleaning and then beat
him within an inch of his life and locked him in his room. Everyday. When he
cooked, his aunt would watch him to make sure he didn't steal any food.
Whenever he did something they thought was wrong or not quite right, they
locked him in the cupboard under the stairs, sometime for days, depending on
the infraction."
Molly collapsed to her knees and started sobbing heavily, she couldn't believe
anyone would do that to any child, let alone family. That someone did that to a
boy she thought of as her own son without her noticing, she felt guilty. Her
husband was absently rubbing her shoulders to comfort her, even though he
looked lost in his own horrified thoughts.
"How could I not have known?" Dumbledore whispered to himself and sighed again,
putting his head in his hands. "It's my fault for putting him there in the
first place." He looked up again, allowing everyone to notice that he was also
fighting back tears. Fawkes flew over from his perch to land on the
Headmaster's shoulder, nipping at his beard to try and comfort him. "So, that's
why Voldemort wants his family - his relatives; they don't deserve to be called
family. It seems that he and Harry have more in common than I thought."
"What do you mean?" Hermione asked.
Dumbledore took a breath and started to explain, deciding he should share it
with the rest of them. Should explain WHY Voldemort was doing what he was
doing, what drove him to fight this war. Tell them why they had to fight him in
the first place. They knew that they didn't agree with Voldemort's ideals, but
they didn't know why they were his ideals to begin with. "Voldemort - Tom
Riddle - when he was a child, he lived in an orphanage. If that wasn't bad
enough, it was war time for both the Wizarding and Muggle worlds. The orphanage
was so underfunded, and the Muggle caretakers so greedy, there weren't enough
funds to feed and cloth all of the children. They were left to fight amongst
themselves for food and clothes. Also, the Muggle children - even the
caretakers - were afraid of Tom, for his abilities. They saw him as a freak,
and they treated him like one. The children bullied him, the caretakers beat
him. They locked him up and refused to feed him, telling him that he didn't
deserve to eat their food. I suppose it was a determining factor in Tom's
development, what drove him to his ambitions, his desires to possess anything
he needed or anything he wanted. Having to fight for what he needed at such a
young age or having to go without, how could one expect him to turn out any
other way? I should have taken him away from there, but I didn't. This was
before I fought Grindelwald. I was only a Transfiguration teacher at the time,
I had almost no pull in the Wizengamot or the Ministry. There wasn't anything I
could do, short of adopting him myself. Then, Tom came to Hogwarts - I went and
retrieved him myself - where he learned about what he truly was, about his
powers and abilities, about his ancestry. He became convinced he was better
than others, because he was more than the Muggle children were and he was so
much more powerful than his magical classmates. And he still is, he is one of
the most magically powerful wizards in the world, as well as one of the most
knowledgeable. But he made friends with the wrong people - if you could call
them friends, certain Pureblooded Slytherins and a few Ravenclaws. Back then
they were even more pompous than they are now. He decided that the Purebloods
were right, they were better than Muggleborns and Halfbloods, ignoring the fact
that he himself was a Halfblood. He still does, he refuses to acknowledge his
Muggle heritage. Refuses his real name; his mother named him after his Muggle
father. I can't help but think that things might be different, if he'd been
able to grow up in a loving home." Dumbledore paused, observing the silent
audience.
"Never thought I'd see the day when I'd feel a little sorry for You-Know-Who,"
Neville muttered to himself.
"Now, I've made the same mistake with Harry, only this time it's worse, because
I PUT him there. I'm amazed Harry has turned out so differently, that he is so
loving and forgiving after what he's been through," Dumbledore said.
Hermione stared at the Headmaster, amazed to see the usually jovial and happy
man be so absorbed in self-loathing. He blamed himself for everything that was
happening, even though it really wasn't his fault at all. "Nature versus
nurture, Headmaster. There's no way anyone can know how a child will turn out.
Even the most loved children can grow up thinking less of themselves." Here she
gave a look to Neville and then to Ron. "Then there are children like Harry,
who didn't know love for longer than he could remember, and still turned out to
have a heart bigger than any other's." She smiled a little as she remembered
her best friend. "Tom Riddle and Harry Potter, two people who grew up in a
similar way, but turned out to be polar opposites."
Dumbledore gave Hermione a sad smile. "You're right-" He was cut off by a
whistling sound, he turned to one of his other instruments. "Death Eaters have
arrived in Little Whinging." He stood up and surveyed his Order of the Phoenix.
"I must say before we go, that if any of you feel you don't want to defend the
lives of these Muggles, then I won't hold it against you, if you should choose
to stay behind."
"Don't be silly, Albus!" Molly said, wiping her eyes. "If there is any way we
can find Harry or Luna, it's by capturing a Death Eater." There was a
smattering of cheers and agreements.
"Very well," Dumbledore said, looking around at them all. "Where are Sirius and
Remus? I know I sent Patroni to them."
The others looked around, searching for the two absentees. "You don't think
something's happened to them, do you?" Tonks asked.
"They are closer to Harry than the rest of us," Molly put in, a worried tremor
in her voice.
"All the more reason to go to Little Whinging, right now!" Dumbledore said,
then turned to McGonagall. "Minerva, hold down the fort." McGonagall nodded her
agreement, as the Headmaster lowered the wards around his office and the
members of the Order of the Phoenix apparated out of the office and straight to
Number 4 Privet Drive.
Only the students and McGonagall were left standing in the room.
"Well, now," Minerva said, turning to her students. "I believe we all have
classes to be in. Hurry up now, we're thirty minutes late! I'd like to make
sure your schoolmates haven't destroyed my classroom!" And she ushered them all
out of the room. The students left, some grumbling about being left out again.
 
--Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. A moment later.--
Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix arrived in time to see carnage. In the
few minutes since the Death Eaters arrived, they'd managed to destroy several
houses, many of which were on fire. Number 4 still stood, looking almost
untouched, but for the front door that had been blown off it's hinges. There
was screaming, as the more insane Death Eaters did what they did best; tortured
and killed Muggles. There were already several bodies in the streets, in broad
daylight.
The fighting between the Light and the Dark started as soon as the Light Order
arrived, racing to protect and save the lives of innocent Muggles.
But what they didn't know, was that most of these Muggles were far from
innocent. After Harry had broken the blood protection wards by giving up the
location, the Dark Lord had peeked into Harry's mind (more like forced his way
in to get the details), and found that Harry's relatives were not the only ones
who had treated the magical child like a freak, the whole neighborhood had.
They'd seen the abuse and neglect and had ignored it. The adults had warned
their children away from the 'Potter brat', some had even encouraged their
children to bully him or turned a blind eye when their children cornered the
small boy. The only person in that neighborhood who'd treated Harry like a
human being was the Squib, Arabella Figg, whom the Dark Lord had ordered his
Death Eaters to leave untouched.
The Dark Lord's orders were relatively simple; destroy the neighborhood but
don't kill them all, no children, no prisoners; leave Arabella Figg and her
home unharmed, and save the Dursleys for him. That was it.
Voldemort was currently standing in the sitting room of Number 4, smirking at
the Muggles. Dudley was trying to hide behind his mother, whom was trying to
shield her fat lump of son, whilst cowering on the sofa, after the Dark Lord
had ordered them to sit. Vernon, on the other hand, hadn't taken lightly to
being ordered around in his own home, and was now screaming and twitching on
the floor. He'd dared to raise his voice and even his fist to the Darkest Lord
of all time and was facing the very painful consequences of it. He'd been under
the Cruciatus Curse for more than three minutes now.
After another thirty seconds, he lifted the curse, then quickly cast
Incarcerous on the walrus of a man. He felt it as soon as the Order arrived,
passing through the wards that he'd put up to alert him to the arrival of the
Order or any Ministry Aurors. He turned to Petunia Dursley and her son and tied
them up as well, then levitated them all into a neat pile on the floor, cruelly
making sure Petunia was on the bottom. When he heard hurried footsteps rushing
through the house, he looked up to the main entrance of the room to see Albus
Dumbledore rush in with his wand ready and a grim but determined expression on
his face. The two wizards raised their wands and kept them trained on their
opponent.
"Albus, how lovely of you to join me," Voldemort mocked, dropping a portkey
onto the pile of Dursleys, whisking them away to his dungeons before the old
man could stop him.
Dumbledore sighed wearily. "Tom, you have to stop this! Let them go, let them
all go! Let Harry go! I'm begging you!"
"Oh, the Great Albus Dumbledore, reduced to begging already?" Voldemort asked,
smirking. "I haven't even done anything, yet. Not really. Why should I let them
go? These Muggles aren't worth saving, I promise you. You would agree, if you
knew. And, as for Harry, I'm never letting him go. Ever. And there's nothing
you could do or say to change my mind. These... creatures you call Harry's
family, do you know what they've done? Those Muggles outside, the rest of this
sickeningly boring Muggle neighborhood, do you know what they've all done? Or,
in some cases, not done?"
"I know," Dumbledore croaked out, frowning. "I've only just learned what
Harry's relatives have done to him. His friends decided it would be best to
divulge that particular secret of Harry's, in hopes it would help us to
understand why you came here. I know now, that I have made the same mistake
again with Harry that I made with you. I let you both suffer, when you
shouldn't have had to experience something so horrible."
"It's a little late for self-pity and half-arsed apologies, Dumbledore,"
Voldemort ground out.
"What do you want with Harry, Tom?" Dumbledore asked. "I have to ask, why are
you keeping him alive? I would think you were still of the mind to kill him,
because of the prophecy. What am I missing, Tom?"
Voldemort snorted. "I heard the whole prophecy months ago, old man. The perks
of having followers in the Ministry. It was easy to get into the Department of
Mysteries to hear it. As far as I'm concerned, that prophecy fulfilled itself
that very night I went after Harry in his crib. As for what I have planned for
him now? I think I'll let you work that one out yourself." Voldemort raised his
wand higher, intending to cast a spell to distract Dumbledore long enough for
him to get out of the house, and out of the anti-apparition wards he could feel
Dumbledore had put around the house.
"Yes, Harry's friends had a good idea about what you wanted Harry for," Albus
said, trying to stall for more time. "His dorm mates have noticed a few changes
in his... sleep patterns. And his best friend, Hermione, she's a brilliant one;
she's the one who figured it all out in the end. You want Harry to bear you an
heir. But my question is, what will you do with him after he's given you an
heir?"
"Oh, I want more than one, Albus," Voldemort smiled darkly, his eyes going a
reddish orange with lust, as he thought of Harry and that delectable body of
his, just waiting for him to ravish it. "I'm not just going to have Harry bear
me an heir and then be done with him, oh no, I'm going to be keeping him."
"Why?" Dumbledore asked, perplexed.
"There are many reasons," the Dark Lord started, inching around to the patio
door that lead into the back yard. "I'm sure you've already worked them all
out. There is one reason, however, that I need to ask: did you know?" he asked,
pausing in his movement.
"Did I know what?"
"What Harry is?" Voldemort hissed, continuing his movement towards the glass
patio door. "Did you know about what I'd left behind in his scar?"
Dumbledore sighed. "I had a hunch. I hadn't confirmed it, though. I'd only
found out about your horcruxes after Harry presented your destroyed diary to me
in his second year. Adding to that the knowledge of the pain he experiences
whenever you're near, I wondered."
"Well, it's confirmed now," Voldemort gritted out, deciding that he would
clarify a few things with the old man, since they were there. "So, now you
know, Harry will NEVER be leaving my side. He will stay with me, protected and
cared for, I'll even make sure he continues his education from the safety of my
home. An even more thorough education than what he would receive at Hogwarts.
I'll give him what he craves the most; a real family. Hopefully, one day I'll
get him to bond himself to me; to make him my consort. The work's already half
done, anyway." Voldemort scoffed. "That soul piece that's inside of him?
Harry's own soul is so pure and... loving, that it has accepted and merged with
the shard of mine. There's no reversing it." He paused again, debating for a
moment. "Don't fret, you may yet see him again. I doubt it'll happen anytime
soon, but eventually I'll be able to trust him with a little more freedom.
It'll be even longer before I can trust others with Harry's freedom." He raised
his wand to his throat and cast a Sonorus. "My Death Eaters, retreat." Silently
casting the counter spell, he spoke to Dumbledore once more. "I'd best be going
now. I have a few Muggles to punish and a stubborn Gryffindor to break in. Oh,
and don't worry too much about Remus Lupin and Sirius Black. They'll be staying
with me as well." Dumbledore raised his wand higher and opened his mouth, no
doubt to cast the first spell to start the duel he was expecting to happen
between the two of them. But, unfortunately for him, Voldemort had other plans.
He'd anticipated Dumbledore's arrival and added an extra fail safe, and so, he
cast the silent spell that activated the invisible array he'd put on the floor
in the entrance that Dumbledore was now standing in. A semi-opaque white sphere
appeared around Dumbledore, imprisoning the old man inside it; inhibiting and
feeding off of his magic. It was a powerful Chinese containment sphere; a dark
spell that he'd learned about in his travels, that was originally designed to
contain demons and drain the magic out of them to be repurposed as the caster
saw fit. Needless to say, that if it were to be used on a wizard, said wizard
would die eventually from magic deficiency, if they weren't freed in time. Even
if they were freed in time, it would still leave the wizard severely weakened
for a while.
Once the insufferable old man was contained, the Dark Lord rushed out the door
and past the wards. 'That ought to keep him busy for a while,' he thought, with
a sadistic grin on his face. He cast a quick spell to set the house on fire,
and then apparated back to his castle.
Once the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters had apparated away, Little Whinging was
left in a state of shock and chaos; houses burning, people screaming and
crying, blood running through the streets, bodies of Muggles, Death Eaters and
Order members alike all over the place. The sirens of Muggle emergency vehicles
filled the air, along with the cracks of apparition signaling the arrival of
Aurors. The surviving Order members were too shocked to know what to make of it
all. They hadn't managed to capture any Death Eaters alive, and Dumbledore
seemed to be stuck in a bubble they couldn't break through.
 
--Slytherin Castle, somewhere in Ireland. Same day.--
Lord Voldemort apparated directly into the dining room where he'd left Harry
(chained by the ankle to the large, heavy, wooden table), after healing his
newest injuries, repairing the boy's shirt and ordering the house elves to
clean up the mess. The boy was sitting in his chair, scowling at the strawberry
he'd been mutilating on his plate. He looked up when he felt the air
displacement and heard the tell tale pop of apparition.
"Where have you taken Remus and Sirius?" Harry demanded of the Dark Lord, not
even bothering with a greeting of any kind.
"They're in the dungeons for the time being," Voldemort answered easily. "I
will provide them with better accommodations once I've reached a suitable
agreement with them." He strode over to Harry, vanishing the chain and shackle
with a wave of his hand. He pulled Harry's chair out, urging him to stand.
"Speaking of the dungeons. I have something to show you."
Harry stood up, warily eyeing Voldemort. "Where did you go?" he asked in a
small voice, dreading that he already knew the answer.
Voldemort smirked. "Little Whinging." He wrapped an arm around Harry's
shoulders and steered him towards the door and out into the corridor.
"Do I want to know what you did while you were there?" Harry asked softly.
"Probably not, but you will know anyway," Voldemort answered, strolling
leisurely through the halls with Harry, making the long walk to the entrance of
the dungeons. "Then again, you may be pleased to know that most of that foul
little muggle suburb is no longer standing." Harry gasped. "And most of the
people who hurt you are now dead. Not to worry, I didn't allow my Death Eaters
to harm any children, even though they were the ones who did the most damage,
aside from your uncle. And Mrs. Arabella Figg is completely unharmed."
Harry seemed to let out a small sigh of relief for the few who had survived the
massacre. Then Harry remembered where Voldemort was leading him. "What is it
that you want to show me?" Harry asked, stopping and looking up at Voldemort
with apprehension. "Please don't make me watch you hurt anyone." Voldemort's
eyes turned a dark red, almost maroon color; as though he were on the verge of
getting angry. He didn't answer, he simply reached and clasped a hand around
Harry's upper arm and started pulling him along. Harry bit his lip, torn
between wanting to cry and wanting to scream at the Dark Lord.
A few tense and silent minutes later, they reached an unassuming door. It was
old; made of a faded dark wood and black iron bands. It was just as they
reached this door, that Voldemort waved his wand and summoned a pair of shoes
onto Harry's bare feet. Harry was vaguely pleased to see they were his own worn
pair of Converse trainers, though Harry wondered why the Dark Lord thought he
needed them all of a sudden.
They continued through the door and down a winding staircase, and Harry's
silent question was answered when they reached the bottom and something
crunched under Harry's feet. The wet, moldy stone floor was littered with tiny
pieces of broken glass that glittered in the torch light and sharp rocks and
pebbles that looked as though they could do some real damage. Harry shuddered
with the thought of what walking through this place bare foot would do to one's
feet, or if one was dragged through here, like he was sure most prisoners would
be. The atmosphere of the place was dark and gloomy, he could hear whimpering
and crying coming from some of the cells that he forced himself not to look
into, as he was lead down the passageway between cells. What hit him most about
the dungeons was the smell; this place had obviously never been cleaned, ever.
He could smell the rot and putrifaction, the blood, feces, urine and vomit; the
general filth of humans and animals. There were rats all over the place,
insects crawling everywhere, even some small magical creatures that Harry knew
could be devilishly cruel little things; like the doxies and the pixies, who
were carnivorous and had really sharp teeth. Everything was intended to make
this place as horrible, painful and depressing as possible. Harry thought it
was positively traumatizing, and he wasn't even being kept as a prisoner down
here.
'Sirius and Remus are down here somewhere,' Harry found himself thinking,
despairingly.
Harry made the mistake of looking up further from the ground, that was covered
in more than just glass, rocks and mold - there were other things he didn't
even want to think about identifying - he saw that there were numerous torture
devices around, Magical and Muggle. He had to cover his mouth to hold in his
lunch when he noticed on one device there was someone still attached to it;
someone who had clearly died and had been there for quite a while; fortunately
or unfortunately, he hadn't been there long enough for the rats and decay to
finish cleaning the flesh from the bones.
He couldn't help himself, he had to if he didn't want to puke; he turned into
Voldemort's side and buried his face into his robes, allowing the Dark Lord to
lead him forward to whatever the hell he wanted to show Harry in this
disgusting and terrifying place. Suddenly, he found himself extremely glad that
Voldemort wanted him for something more than to just torture and kill him,
otherwise he would be staying down here as well.
Harry gave a startled yelp, when a hand reached between the bars and grabbed
his ankle. He'd almost fallen over onto the pain-inducing floor, if not for
Voldemort holding him up. An unfamiliar male voice started pleading with Harry
to save him, pleading with the Dark Lord to release him, spewing apologies and
making empty or impossible promises to make up for what he'd done. The Dark
Lord growled angrily, and with one swipe of his wand, the arm of the hand that
was holding onto Harry, was severed from the body it was attached to. The man
screamed and blood spewed, covering Harry's shoes and trouser legs. And that
was it, Harry lost his control over his gag reflex and puked all over the
floor. Again, the only thing that was holding him up was Voldemort, who sighed
wearily.
"First timers," the Dark Lord lamented. "I suppose, I should have given you a
little more time to digest your food before bringing you down here." He pointed
his wand at Harry's face, casting a spell that cleaned and freshened his mouth
(leaving Harry wondering in the back of his mind why he had been bothering with
a toothbrush all this time, if there was a spell that did the same thing more
efficiently).
"Why did you bring me down here at all?!" Harry asked, his voice wavering. He
forced his eyes away from the severed limb, to look up at the Dark Lord's
amused face.
"You'll see," Voldemort answered simply, pulling Harry along further, until
they reached the last few cells in the row. They were by far the smallest
cells; only three feet wide by four feet deep. Three of them were occupied by
people Harry had hoped to never see again.
Upon their arrival into the Dark Lord's dungeons, the house elves had done as
they were trained to do and had locked the Dursleys up in the cells, with
chains and shackles keeping them tethered to the wall, leaving them unable to
do anything but stand on their toes. Their shoes and personal effects were
taken from them, leaving them bare foot and in dirty burlap robes. When Harry
was in sight, the occupants of the cells started yelling and screaming at him,
rattling their chains. Vernon started spitting insults at Harry and promises of
pain directed at both Harry and the Dark Lord.
"Freak! I knew you were nothing but trouble! You hear me! Release us! How dare
you kidnap normal people like us!" Vernon continued to shout, causing Harry to
cringe, as his uncle's face turned purple with rage. Voldemort saw through the
link he shared with Harry, that Harry was thinking about all the times his
uncle had screamed like this and how it had always ended with him lying on the
floor in a pool of his own blood, with Harry's magic being the only thing that
kept him alive. "You useless freak! I should have killed you the night you were
left on my doorstep! I should have thrown you into the trash where you belong,
but I didn't! I allowed you to stay in my home with my NORMAL family, we took
care of you! Gave you food, shelter and clothing, and this is the thanks you
give us!?" Harry cowered behind Voldemort, gripping the sleek black robes.
Voldemort raised his wand and silenced all three of the Dursleys.
"Excuse me, did you just say you took care of him? Fed him? And you honestly
call giving him your sons old rags clothing him?" The Dark Lord hissed at
Vernon, his eyes crimson as he stared down his nose at the fat whale of a man,
who looked as though he were stuffed into the cell. He was so fat, he didn't
even fit into his prison cell. "I know everything about Harry's life with you
and your filthy Muggle family. You didn't take care of him! You did the same
thing every other Muggle does when faced with something you fear and don't
understand. You used him and abused him, you starved him and beat him and
belittled him. Him! Harry Potter, one of the most powerful wizards in the
world? The boy who has managed to thwart my every move since the day he was
born." Petunia's eyes widened in realization, Vernon's brow furrowing as he
thought, slowly coming to same conclusion. Dudley had no idea what was going
on. Voldemort smiled smugly, twirling his wand between his fingers. "Oh, yes,
allow me to introduce myself. I am the Dark Lord Voldemort. I killed Lily and
James Potter, as well as numerous other witches and wizards, and countless
muggles. Anyone who got in my way." Vernon and Petunia paled considerably. "So
far, the only two people who have managed to get away from me alive are Albus
Dumbledore and none other than our own dear sweet Harry Potter." He twirled his
wand again and pointed it at Vernon and silently sent the Cruciatus Curse at
the tub of lard. Since he was still silenced, Vernon thrashed in his chains,
his mouth gaping with muted screams.
Voldemort wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulders, pulling him out from behind
him and holding him against his side. Harry's eyes zeroed in on Vernon's
thrashing and twitching form. A wave of empathy went through him but it was
steamrolled by an overwhelming sense of satisfaction. He felt sorry for anyone
who had to go through such pain, but seeing his uncle like this? To see his
worst tormentor, writhing in pain inflicted upon him for Harry's own justice?
Harry couldn't help but feel vindicated by it. Voldemort released the curse,
letting Vernon slump in his bonds. He turned to Harry, pulling him forward,
positioning him in front of him, facing the prisoners. He wrapped his arms
around Harry's waist, putting his chin on Harry's shoulder. He took Harry's
right hand and put the yew wand into the palm, wrapping Harry's fingers around
the handle. He wrapped his own hand around Harry's, gripping the wand.
Harry gasped, as he felt the power thrumming through his hand and arm; the pull
of the eager wand to be used for the most powerful spells, the magic flowing
from Voldemort's hand, mixing with his own and connecting with the wand's
phoenix feather core. Harry shuddered at the feeling, the magic crackling along
his and Voldemort's skin. The feeling of their magic mixing, the heady aura of
the mixture around the both of them was intoxicationg. There was the scent of
ozone as the crackling magic heightened and became visible, looking very much
like lightning zapping around and over them. Voldemort groaned in appreciation,
gripping his hand more tightly around Harry's, pointing the wand at Vernon.
"Punish him," the Dark Lord purred into Harry's ear. "He deserves it for
everything he's done to you. All those times he almost killed you, and would
have killed you had you not been a wizard. Even the Ministry would sentence him
to life in Azkaban, or even the Kiss, for what he's done. But, now you have the
opportunity to take your own revenge. On him, on her and on their spawn. They
are yours to do with as you please." Voldemort smiled as he felt Harry shudder
again. "You know the spell, Harry, all you have to do is say it. Put all of
your intent and anger behind it. Give them the same pain they gave you. It's
only fair."
He wanted to, so badly. He wanted to make his uncle hurt the way he'd made
Harry hurt. A flutter of anticipation when through his core and Harry's breath
hitched and he started shaking his head. He tried to pull his hand away, to
drop the wand, to get away from Voldemort, to get out of the dungeon. He needed
air! He started panting and yanking his hand out of the Dark Lord's. Voldemort
relented, letting Harry pull away. He would get the boy to accept his new role
eventually, but it's best not to push too hard. He let Harry run away from him,
up the stairs and out of the dungeon. It didn't matter where Harry went; he
wouldn't be able to leave the grounds and any dangerous rooms were closed to
him. The only potential problems might come from the Death Eaters that were
present in the castle. He hadn't checked to see if Bellatrix was able to get
out of bed yet; something he really should have been keeping an eye on.
Bellatrix would no doubt want revenge on Harry, for using so many hexes on her
that conflicted with each other to the point of causing her to be bedridden
with incurable boils, stomach flu-like symptoms, and her hair seemed to be
permanently hot pink.
The Dark Lord smiled darkly at the back of Harry as he ran away, then he turned
his attention to the Muggles. He raised his wand and released the silencing
charm on the three of them. Petunia was sobbing, while Dudley was just confused
and afraid and thus, silent. Vernon was quickly starting to turn purple again.
Voldemort pointed his wand at him again.
"It would be wise to keep that mouth of yours shut," the Dark Lord warned.
Vernon narrowed his eyes, but stayed silent, his moustache rippling with his
heavy angry breaths. "You've gone too long allowing yourself to say whatever
you damn well please. Soon, you'll realize your mistakes and learn your place.
Not only have you hurt a truly innocent child, but a magical one at that. Add
to that just who he is, and you've sealed your own fate the very first time you
raised your hand against him."
"I don't understand," Petunia squeaked. "Why do you care what we've done to the
boy? I thought you wanted him dead? In his letter, Dumbledore said something
about a prophecy or some such nonsense, that made you want to kill him."
"I did want him dead," Voldemort confessed. "Until I learned what the whole
prophecy was. I find that it's fulfilled. It was fulfilled that very night I
killed Lily and James Potter." Voldemort smirked. "After hearing the whole
thing, I was just going to make sure Harry stayed occupied and away from the
front lines, but then a very skilled Potions Master invented a few very handy
new potions. Potions that allow a male to bear children." He smiled at the
disgusted looks on the Dursleys' faces. He flung the Cruciatus Curse at Petunia
when she dared to call he and Harry freaks again. He released it fairly
quickly, leveling a glare at all three of them. "I find that these potions
present a unique opportunity that I will not pass up." He smiled again, the
smile taking on an edge of insanity. "Think about it!" he said, taking a step
closer to the bars of Petunia's cell. "A child born of two of the world's
mightiest wizards: Harry Potter and Lord Voldemort. The child would be
exceptionally gifted, even stronger than the both of us, unrivaled by any
other, he or she could do or be anything. They could be omnipotent. They could
be a conqueror, a King or a Queen, an Emperor, a beacon of Wizarding
civilization. Someone who could crush their enemies with ease, stomp on those
who are beneath them. And if that child is mine, that would be everyone!
Everyone would be beneath them. With them in the world, Magic will grow and
flourish, it will prosper and shower the world with its gifts, creating more
and more wizards and witches. Someday, Muggles like you will be a thing of the
past, and humans will be as they should be; magical." He took a step back and
took in a deep breath. "And it all starts with at least one extraordinarily
powerful leader. Though, if I have any say in it, there will not be only one
but several." He gave a mirthless laugh. "And if I can perfect my methods of
immortality, Harry and I will both be around to see the world take the shape it
is meant to be." With that, he smirked and turned away from the dumbstruck
Muggles and left the Dursleys to hang in their cells, instead heading for the
cells that held Harry's godfathers.
TBC
***** Magic *****
Chapter Summary
     Plot developments.
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
"Speech."
'Thoughts.'
"~Parseltongue.~"
Spells and potions.
+Chapter 8: Magic+
--Slytherin Castle, somewhere in Ireland. Same day, late afternoon.--
Harry ran and ran and ran, through the corridors and halls and rooms, trying to
find a door that lead outside or a balcony or even a window that opened.
Eventually he found one on the main level that lead to the back garden. Once
outside and standing on the damp March grass, Harry collapsed to his knees. He
choked back a sob or gag, he wasn't sure which it was. He was disgusted with
himself. He hated how he'd wanted to hurt his uncle so badly, he hated how he
loved the way Voldemort's magic felt mixed with his own. He shuddered in
remembrance of the intensity.
But he hated how weak he felt too. He realized that Voldemort was right, Vernon
did deserve to be punished for what he'd done to his nephew. Isn't that how you
always heard about child abuse? A parent or guardian hurting their child, then
getting sent to prison for it.
Harry just sat there, panting and trying not to cry. It was all just too much.
Too much happening at once. Just yesterday he was at Hogwart's, laughing with
his friends, the world was business as usual. He'd been trying to convince
everyone that Voldemort was back and he thought Voldemort wanted him dead, and
he had to train himself and his friends to be able to fight in battle. Now? Now
he was stuck in Voldemort's home, Voldemort wanted to fuck him and get him
pregnant, his Muggle family was in the dungeons and so were his godfathers. The
creepiest thing was that Voldemort was being relatively NICE to him. Now, he'd
almost used dark magic to torture his uncle and he'd LIKED it when Voldemort
touched him.
Several long minutes passed, as Harry just sat there, kneeling on the wet and
muddy ground, trying to force his mind to work through all the information. His
mind was numb and slow; 'overloaded' Hermione would say. The minutes turned
into hours, as the cloudy sky got dimmer and it started to rain lightly, but
still he sat there. He sat there, thinking things over and dreading going back
inside, back to Voldemort. He wondered when the dark wizard would force him to
take the next dose of that potion; sometime tonight, was all he knew for sure.
Then another realization hit him, blindsiding him as he thought things through.
In less than a year, he'd be a father... mother... whatever, he'd have a child
of his own. He was only fifteen, would be sixteen. On his next birthday, he
would be fat and pregnant. He would be going through one of the most difficult
things in his life and he wasn't even sure he would have his friends or family
there to help him. Probably not, he'd have been lucky if Voldemort let Remus
and Sirius out of the dungeon to be around him. He wouldn't have his best
friends to lean on, to cry to or to scream at, he wouldn't have the Weasleys to
spoil him with food and affection. No, he was going to be stuck there with
smelly old Snake Face and his Corpse Munchers!
Harry could feel his anger starting to simmer, when he heard squelching
footsteps coming up to him, and he looked up at the loping figure. "What are
you doing out here, cub?" asked the voice of Fenrir Greyback. Harry stared up
at him, feeling his mind being blown again. Fenrir Greyback; Britain's most
feared alpha werewolf, talking to Harry with a worried tone in his voice.
"I just needed some air," Harry croaked, his hair and clothes were getting
soaked through and sticking to him, as the rain got heavier. Fenrir honestly
thought he looked like an abandoned puppy left out in the rain.
"Up you get," Fenrir said, reaching to pull Harry up by his arm. "It's getting
too dark out here for defenseless little puppies to wander around unattended."
He steered Harry around and back into the building. Closing the door firmly
behind them, Fenrir snapped his fingers, summoning a house elf.
The house elf that popped up in front of them, Luffy, squeaked in worry and
started dragging Harry along down the hall, babbling about the state of him.
Admonishing him for staying outside in the rain, admonishing himself for not
noticing he was out there, worrying what the Dark Lord would say, but mostly
just babbling about getting Harry some fresh clothes and getting him some warm
food and a cup of tea. Harry was tugged along up to Voldemort's chambers, where
he was shoved through the door and straight through to the bathroom, where
there was already a hot bath waiting for him. Before Harry knew it, the house
elf had magicked his clothes off and dumped him into the warm soapy water that
was layered with a tremendous amount of bubbles. There were so many bubbles,
Harry almost disappeared amidst them, since they literally came up to his ears.
The warmth woke Harry from his numbed state, and he allowed himself to break
down and cry. Harry sat in the huge bath tub, hugging his knees to his chest
and burying his face against his knees. He let himself cry for several minutes,
until a big warm hand settled on his shoulder. Harry gasped and whipped around
to come face to face with a blank-faced Voldemort. Though, he could have sworn
he saw a bit of concern in those eyes that were sporting a deep blue.
"Luffy informed me that you'd been sitting outside in the rain," the Dark Lord
stated. He sat on the edge of the tub and turned to watch Harry. He observed
his soon-to-be lover's face for a few moments. "I know that this is all a lot
to take in, that there are many things worrying you right now; your future, the
future of your friends and loved ones. But you don't need to worry so much. I
intend to do everything I can to make you happy - within reason. So, let me say
a few things to ease your mind a bit. I know that you're worried about the task
I have given to you, and I can understand your apprehension, but it's going to
happen one way or another, so you might as well accept it and get used to it.
As for everything else, if there is anything you want or need,
materialistically, all you have to do is ask. I can't allow you to leave this
castle yet because it is too dangerous, but eventually, I may trust you with
more freedom and trust others with your care. And before you ask, no, you may
not visit any of your friends, but if you really want to see them, I can make
that happen without any harm coming to them. I can bring them here to see you
for as long as you want them to stay, then they will be taken home. And if you
wish it, I will make sure you have nothing more to do with the war, but you are
welcome to help shape the future any way you wish, as long as you do not fight
against me, but I will listen if you have any ideas or advice. I have told you
my true goals, and they are the truth. I don't want to spill any magical blood,
if I can help it, but the Wizarding World needs to change or it will die."
Voldemort slid off the edge of the tub, to sit on the floor, so he was level
with Harry's face. "I know you want to accuse me of lying, because it would be
easier for you to understand, but I know you feel that what I say is the truth.
I know you can feel Lady Magic the same way I do, you can feel Her dying just a
little bit, year by year. She's withering away. When I was your age, She was so
much stronger, but now She seems almost a weak old woman, in comparison. She
has had to show Her favor to fewer and fewer wizards, even going so far as to
cut witches and wizards off from Her entirely, creating more and more Squibs.
Things have to change, Harry. I hope I can count on you in the future to help
me make sure Our Lady doesn't die, to help me make Her stronger again. Magic
must be used for it to stay strong, Harry, all branches of it must be explored
for it to grow. Dark, Light, Gray, and everything in between. As things are,
Dark Magic is banned, all of it, when it doesn't need to be. The Ministry
should hold those who use it wrong accountable for their actions, not punish us
all for the actions of a few. There are wizards who are better suited to using
Dark Magic than they are using any other kind, and banning them from using it
is only making them weaker and vulnerable. Very few wizards are able to use any
kind of magic they wish, I am one of them, but I have an affinity for Dark. I
believe you are one of them as well, but you have an affinity for Light. We
can't let Magic die because of ignorance. What would we be without Magic?
"Did you know, that there really is no such thing as a Muggle? They are all
Squibs, born from a long line of more Squibs. Squib bloodlines so long, they've
forgotten their own magical heritage. It's been thousands of years, since Our
Lady was first forsaken for false gods. It's only been getting worse since
then. More and more nonsense religions that hold no real merit, that serve no
purpose other than to comfort all those weak people out there who are too
ashamed of their own actions to take responsibility for them. People who are
too afraid to help those they care about with their own hands; instead praying
to some made up god to do it for them, to comfort those who are too afraid of
their own mortality to face it or do something to change it."
"But you're afraid of your mortality, aren't you?" Harry asked.
"A little, but I'm not about to go pray to some nonexistant deity to make my
passage into the afterlife more bearable," Voldemort answered, giving a wry
smile. "I'm searching for a way to stop it. I'm part way there, but I have yet
to attain true immortality. I've attained eternal youth easily enough, but
unfortunately, I can still die."
"Why are you so afraid of dying?" Harry asked.
"Why aren't you?" Voldemort countered. The Dark Lord sighed, reaching a hand
forward to caress Harry's cheek. "I'm not so much afraid of dying, as I am
afraid of dying before I can finish my work. I'm sure there will come a day
when I wouldn't mind finally letting go of life, but it won't be for a long,
long time." He paused, rubbing his thumb across Harry's cheek bone. "I would
like it, if you would stay with me as well."
Harry's breath hitched. "Why?"
"I'm not sure," the Dark Lord confessed. "But, now that you're here, I can feel
that Lady Magic wants us together. And who am I to question Her?"
"What about love?"
The Dark Lord stared for a moment, then shrugged. "I don't know, I've never
experienced it before." He smirked. "But I hear that's something you're very
good at. Loving others."
Harry stared at Voldemort for a long moment, observing the honest and
thoughtful expression on the Dark Lord's face, wondering when the last time was
that he allowed himself to talk like this, if ever. Coming to a partial
decision, Harry spoke. "You'll let me help where I can?" Voldemort's eyes
widened fractionally and he nodded. "You'll let me see my friends?" Another
nod. "What about Sirius and Remus?"
"They're still in the dungeons," Voldemort answered. "I will allow them out of
the dungeons and give them their own rooms, but I'm having a bit of difficulty
coming to an agreement with them first. They are fiercely protective of you."
He paused a moment. "I suppose I could use that to my advantage."
"You haven't hurt them, have you?" Harry asked, giving the Dark Lord a pleading
look.
"Not much," Voldemort confessed. "Only a short Cruciatus Curse when Black tried
to attack me."
Harry sighed a little in relief. "Have you told them what your real goals are?
The details?" Harry asked.
"No."
"You should. I'm sure they will be much more cooperative if they know you're
not just some madman who is bent on killing everyone. Sirius should understand
best what it is you want to do, he was raised to be Lord of the Black family,
after all. Have you told them about what you want from me yet?"
"No, I figured it might be counterproductive." Voldemort sighed.
"It would be. Don't tell them that yet, let me break that to them. Especially
Remus, he thinks of me as his cub. He'll take better to the situation if I tell
him, he won't be inclined to attack me. You, on the other hand, he'll try to
rip apart." Harry hesitated a moment, then looked boldly into Voldemort's eyes.
"I will try to cooperate. Though, I'm not sure what to make of the fact you
want to have children with me and I can't guarantee that I won't try to run
away when you touch me. And I can't guarantee I won't freak out if you do
something weird or unexpected, nor can I guarantee that I won't get angry at
you if you do something excessively cruel or manipulative. And please, don't
make me watch you hurt anyone again. Even if they are my relatives, even if
they deserve it, I don't want to see it. I hate seeing other people in pain."
Harry paused a moment. "Also, I do reserve the right to punish or retaliate
against your Death Eaters, if they do or say something stupid, or something
that makes me angry. I promise not to hurt them. ...Well, nothing that can't be
reversed, anyway. That is if and when you decide to give me my wand back."
"Fair enough," Voldemort agreed, his voice carrying a slight tremor of
disbelief, and maybe a little humor. "I will have to give you your wand back at
some point, and soon, if I want you to continue your education." Harry's eyes
widened, and Voldemort hastened to add, "Here. I will teach you the Magic you
need to know." Voldemort paused a moment, observing Harry carefully. "You do
realize that you're going to have to let me touch you at some point soon?
Within the next ten days?"
"Yes," Harry answered, fidgeting. "I just... It's weird. I'm so used to you
trying to kill me. There are a lot of things that I may never be able to
forgive you for, but regardless, I will try to give you at least some of my
trust." Harry swallowed a lump in his throat. "Did you see all of my childhood
memories?"
"No, only the ones that stood out the most."
"Did you see what my uncle made me do sometimes, when Aunt Petunia was out
shopping?"
He would never admit it, but at that moment, Voldemort felt his heart sink and
his fury rise. "No. I thought those Weasley twins were the ones who took your
virginity?"
"They were! Uncle Vernon never went that far. He only ever made me use my
mouth, and it only happened a couple times, but I still have a slight problem
with intimacy because of it. If you'd paid attention to all those so-called
trysts you saw, you would've noticed that all the people I was with I had
trusted to some degree."
"Even the Malfoy brat?"
Harry snorted. "I don't really trust Malfoy, per se. I can however trust him to
be himself. He will always be Draco Malfoy, the insufferable git who will do
anything to get a rise out of me. Plus, he wouldn't have been able to brag
about shagging me without revealing to the whole school that he's bent, or
revealing to his lover that he'd cheated on him. Even though the whole school
knows that he's bent, anyway. He and Blaise Zabini try to hide that they're
together, but they aren't always very good at it, even if they are Slytherins."
"Malfoy and Zabini?" Voldemort mused, pushing down his fury temporarily.
"You didn't hear it from me!" Harry said. Harry took a deep breath and sighed.
"I also didn't actually do anything with most of those people you saw. I made
out with a few of them, but I only ever slept with three of them, two of which
were the Twins, because I could trust them to take care of me with it being my
first time and I knew they wouldn't expect anything more from me. Then the
other times after that, it was just to make ourselves feel better with how
awful life has been at school this year. Malfoy... I guess our emotions got the
better of us. It started out as a fist fight, then somehow it turned into a
fondling and snogging session, and it just went from there."
Voldemort scoffed. "He's still going to suffer. Have you warmed up enough?" he
asked, changing the subject before he could get even more angry and do
something that would destroy the rapport he was building with Harry. Harry
nodded. "Then get dressed, it's time for dinner. We can talk more later."
Voldemort stood up and moved to lean against the wall.
Harry went to stand but stopped and looked at Voldemort, who was staring at
him. "Um, could you turn around or something?" he asked, blushing.
"No," the Dark Lord answered, staring intently at Harry with a huge smirk on
his face. Harry blushed deeper, fidgeting and looking away, staying seated with
his body hidden underneath all the bubbles. "Don't be bashful, I've already
seen most of it and very soon I will see all of it anyway. Might as well get it
over with." Harry still hesitated, so Voldemort took the decision out of his
hands and waved his wand, unstoppering the drain.
"Hey!" Harry shouted, trying desperately to cover himself with bubbles as the
water level got lower and lower. "That's cheating!"
"I'm a Dark Lord," Voldemort answered simply with a smirk, as though this
explained everything. Once the water was drained, there were still quite a few
lingering bubbles covering parts of Harry's body, who was still curled up in a
ball to try and hide his dignity. But Voldemort waved his wand again, vanishing
the bubbles from Harry's body. Harry squeaked and tried to cover himself with
his hands, glaring up at the smug Dark Lord. Voldemort snagged a towel from the
rack and walked over to Harry and handed him the fluffy green bath towel. Harry
snatched it and quickly wrapped it around his waist. "Luffy has left you some
of my robes for you to wear, they have been resized to fit you. I will see
about retrieving your possessions tomorrow. I do seem to have a snooping
Potions Master hanging around, I might send him to get your things. As well as
your godfathers' things, they'll need them eventually."
"You mean Snape?" Harry asked, following Voldemort out of the bathroom.
"Yes," Voldemort answered, plopping down into a chair to watch and wait for
Harry to get dressed.
Harry glowered at him, moving over to the bed, where the clothes were layed
out. He glared at Voldemort, clutching his towel tightly around him. Voldemort
only smiled, with a lusty glint in his eyes. Harry huffed and turned away,
pushing down his embarrassment long enough for him to drop his towel and get
dressed as quickly as possible.
'With all these scars, how can he possibly like what he sees?' Harry asked
himself. 'Wait, this is Voldemort we're talking about; he likes creating scars,
so of course, he would like to see them too. Weirdo.'
The Dark Lord snickered a little behind his hand. Harry snapped around to glare
at him. "Stop reading my mind!"
"I can't help it, sometimes!" Voldemort defended, a shit-eating grin on his
face. Harry's only response was to darken his glare and think pointedly of an
image of himself smacking Voldemort over the head with a heavy text book, the
way Hermione always did to him and Ron whenever they deserved it.
Voldemort chuckled at the image and stood from his seat, reaching out a hand
for Harry to take. "Shall we?" he asked, observing Harry in the robes that were
provided for him. Even resized, the robes didn't quite fit right. He would
definitely have to get Severus to retrieve Harry's belongings, or he might just
have to invite Narcissa Malfoy over with her personal tailor. He might do that
anyway, if only to watch Harry deal with a Malfoy who was exuberantly shopping
for clothes, and they'd acquire some robes befitting someone of Harry's status
as a bonus.
Harry reached and took Voldemort's hand, wincing slightly as the everpresent
pain in his scar flared up.
The Dark Lord squeezed his hand gently. "Yes, I'm looking into that. I can't
have you in constant pain whenever I'm near. Though, I believe there is only
one way to make the pain stop."
"What way is that?" Harry asked.
"We'll talk about it later, after I've exhausted all other options," Voldemort
told him. Harry looked up at Voldemort with a frown. He looked away and decided
to drop it, even though he really hated it when people kept things from him.
The Dark Lord gently rolled back the sleeve of Harry's robe, to reveal the
bandage that was still around his hand, that was now wet. He unwrapped it from
Harry's hand and tossed the dirty bandage into the fire, before he looked down
at the words carved into Harry's hand. "How did you get this?"
Harry sighed tiredly, letting the Dark Lord inspect his injured hand. It was
bleeding again, now that the water had loosened the scabs that had finally
formed. "The new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Dolores Umbridge,
she's not a very nice person. I think she hates children, so I don't know why
she wanted to teach at the school, even if she was put there by the Ministry.
At first she only did this to me in my detentions, but when Dumbledore was run
out of the school, she started doing it to all of the students. She made us use
Blood Quills to do lines. She never told us how many lines to do, just that we
should keep writing them for 'however long it takes for the message to sink
in', she said. The other students have only had to do a few detentions with the
Blood Quills, so their's heal over pretty well. Mine on the other hand, it
won't close up properly anymore, since I've been in her detentions every night
for the better part of the school year." Harry stopped and winced, hissing in
pain as it seared through his head, this time from Voldemort's anger. He looked
up at Voldemort's face, noticing that his eyes had changed to red again.
"She did this to all of the students?" Voldemort asked in a low voice. Harry
nodded. "What did she punish all of the students for? It's not possible that
all of the students at Hogwart's misbehaved all at once severely enough to
deserve detention."
"Well, once she took up the post as Headmistress, she kept changing the rules;
making them more and more strict. And she'd made up this group of students that
she called the 'Inquisitorial Squad', gave them the privilege to give and take
house points and assign detentions; most of the students in this squad were
Slytherins, including Draco Malfoy, who takes a sick pleasure in getting anyone
into trouble, even playing it up to make it seem worse than it really is. So
many students got detention, that she started having mass detention sessions in
the Great Hall. And they gave detentions for even the smallest of things.
Umbridge herself gave a first year detention simply for having his shoe lace
untied. She gave a detention to Hermione for handing in an essay that was too
long," Harry started going on a rant. "Ron got a detention for laughing in the
hallway. Neville got a detention for tripping over someone else's schoolbag.
She gave detentions to anyone she saw holding a wand outside of class, even in
class in some cases, even when the person holding the wand wasn't even casting
any spells. Detentions were given to any girl who dared to put her hair up in
anything other than a pony tail. Detentions for not wearing the school uniform
properly, and her idea of improper was tying your tie just wrong enough that it
was even a centimeter too long or too short. She walked around with a tape
measure in her pocket, for pity's sake! She gave detentions to my friends
simply for being MY friends! She even made sure my detentions ran so late, that
she could give me more detentions for being out of bed after hours, making me
lose not only sleep but meals as well. Needless to say, Hogwart's hasn't been
the greatest place to be for the last couple of months. She's been destroying
the whole Hogwart's experience for everyone. She removed all the paintings and
tapestries from the walls. She had her own voice reciting the rules on an
infinite loop all through the corridors, even at night. She turned all the
drapes and carpets pink." Harry shivered. "She made all of the moving
staircases stay in one place. She's been restricting all of the creatures in
the Forbidden Forest. She's expelled several students who didn't deserve to be
expelled. She had all familiars, besides owls and cats, banned from the school.
She even personally killed some familiars that didn't get sent home soon
enough. She banned visits to Hogsmeade. She was even working with the Minister
to get Dementors to guard the school on a permanent basis," Harry finished, a
frustrated and outraged look on his face. "Can you believe, she was even
planning to have all of the ghosts in the castle exorcised?"
"I will deal with her," Voldemort stated. "It's one thing to punish children
for doing something wrong. It's a different thing to punish magical children
with something like a Blood Quill for doing even the worst of things, but
especially if it's for made up infractions. I knew you were getting detentions,
but I didn't know they were like this. Mister Malfoy seems to have left this
part out of his reports. I will deal with him as well. Killing another wizard's
familiar is sacrilege in itself, that she would do it multiple times and to the
familiars of children, is another case altogether. And she wouldn't have been
able to exorcise the ghosts, since they are all tied into the magic of the
castle; the magic that keeps the wards up and the castle standing. She would
have to knock the whole building down to get rid of those ghosts. I am sure
that castle will be restored to its original state soon enough." He used his
wand to conjure up a new bandage to put around Harry's hand. "I will have
Severus brew the right salves to heal this." After he finished wrapping Harry's
hand, he waved his wand over the bruises and cuts that were still around
Harry's wrists from the shackles, healing them in an instant. He then went down
on one knee and lifted Harry's bare foot, raising the ankle of his trousers
enough so that he could heal the cuts and bruises on his ankle as well.
Harry hid a smile, as the Dark Lord released his foot and stood. He summoned
Harry's shoes onto his feet again; clean and dry, thanks to Luffy. They both
noticed that the worn old Converse clashed with the pristine black robes, but
Voldemort would fix that tomorrow.
Voldemort took Harry's hand again and led him out of their bedroom (yeah, the
Dark Lord was now referring to the bedroom as theirs), leading him to the
dining room they had eaten lunch in earlier. He pulled Harry's chair out for
him, making Harry blush again. Once they were both seated, the food appeared.
It was a simple meal, but there was plenty of it to fill their stomachs.
Voldemort even put extra food on Harry's plate, now that he knew Harry was used
to going hungry, and as a result didn't eat enough at meals.
Once they were finished eating, they retired to the bedroom, lounging on the
settee in front of the fire. Harry drank a butterbeer, while Voldemort had a
glass of Ogden's Finest Firewhiskey, and Harry told him more about Umbridge,
and tried to tell him more about his relatives. Eventually, Harry was in such a
depressed mood (worsened by the small amount of alcohol in the butterbeer),
that it was filtering over their link, so Voldemort changed the subject;
getting Harry to talk about his friends instead. He had to admit that from what
he'd heard, he liked this Hermione Granger. She seemed to have the same ideals
as he did, only she didn't know it. 'It might be a good idea to get her on my
side,' he thought.
"What does Miss Granger want to do with her life after school? Do you know?"
Voldemort asked.
"She said she wanted to work at the Ministry, she wants to help change the
creature laws. She hates the way house elves are treated, and she hates how
Remus is forced to live. She thinks the laws we have for creatures right now
are too stifling for those creatures. I can't help but agree with her," Harry
said, starting to ramble a little bit from the alcohol. "Remus is a brilliant
man, he was the best Defense professor we've had, but he had to resign because
too many parents wanted him away from their children. Even though he was taking
the Wolfsbane Potion and he was going to a secure location all three nights of
every full moon, just to be sure. He can barely afford the Wolfsbane Potion,
much less buy himself food or decent clothing. It's completely unfair. The only
reason he's doing as well as he is, is because he and Sirius are together.
Though, neither of them will admit to that out loud, but they can't really keep
something like that from me, or anyone really. They're worse than Malfoy and
Zabini are at hiding their relationship. Though, with these potions, I'm hoping
the prejudice against homosexuals will go away. Then they could all be
together, without being judged. I wonder if Slughorn is going to come up with a
way for two women to make babies? That would be easier wouldn't it? Because
they already have the right parts for it."
Voldemort smiled as he listened to Harry talk. "It's a possibility, we'll just
have to see what the future holds on that front." He put his glass down on the
coffee table and moved to sit closer to Harry on the settee. He took the glass
from Harry and set it down as well. "You don't seem to have a very high
tolerance for alcohol, if you can get drunk on butterbeer."
Harry pouted. "Shut up! I've never really drank any alcohol before. And
whenever I went to Hogsmeade, I would only ever share a butterbeer with
Hermione and Ron."
Voldemort reached a hand to tilt Harry's chin up, then leaned in to kiss
Harry's pouting lip. He leaned back to see the dumbfounded look on the
teenager's face, smirked, and went back in for a rougher kiss. Harry gasped and
the small amount of alcohol made him want to kiss back, so he did. Voldemort
leaned over Harry, pushing him back against the arm of the settee, and letting
his hands roam over the body beneath him, as he intensified the kiss. When
Harry moaned softly and wrapped his arms around the Dark Lord's neck, Voldemort
started to undo Harry's robes. He was just starting to trail kisses down his
neck, to the hickey he'd left earlier, when Harry went limp under him. He
pulled back and groaned, sighing heavily and sitting back on the settee with a
small pout on his face (that he would never admit to), and glared at the
sleeping teenager. He sighed again and fished the two phials of potion out of
his pocket. He used a spell that mediwizards use on unconscious patients, to
summon the potions into Harry's stomach. He gave him both the pregnancy potion
and the sleeping draught, then stood and picked up the too-light teenager,
carrying him over to the bed and tucking him in. When he was finished, he put
one more kiss to Harry's lips, before he turned and left the room.
He made his way down to his throne room and sat in his over-sized throne.
"Wormtail!" he shouted. The sniveling rat rushed into the room a minute later
and bowed in front of him.
"Y-yes, M-master?" Wormtail stuttered.
"Give me your arm," the Dark Lord ordered. Wormtail nearly tripped over himself
to pull back his sleeve and get closer to his Master. Voldemort pressed his
finger to Dark Mark and summoned two of his Death Eaters. "Now, go away. And
stay out of the dungeons and away from Black and Lupin!" Voldemort was still
angry that he'd found Wormtail down there earlier, torturing the two men. He'd
delivered some real pain to the little rat before he forbade him from going
into the dungeons again and sent him away. He even allowed Black to laugh at
the fat snivelling bastard for a while, whilst trying to convince the two to
join him. That conversation ended when he'd refused to speak of Harry, then
foolishly healed the two's worst wounds, and Black launched himself at him.
He'd left Black twitching on the gritty floor with a promise to visit them
again tomorrow.
It took about ten minutes for Lucius Malfoy and Severus Snape to arrive in his
throne room. The two bowed at his feet and waited for him to speak.
"What do you know of Dolores Umbridge?" Voldemort asked the two. They both
visibly tensed before looking up at him.
"She was the latest Defense Against the Dark Arts professor," Lucius stated
dumbly.
"Yes, I know that part," Voldemort hissed. "Severus, tell me what she did at
the school. You know I don't mean her occupation, I mean what she did to the
school and its students. Is what Harry told me the truth?"
Snape chewed on his lip a moment. "I don't know what Potter said, but most
likely it was the truth."
"Did she torture the students? Physically and mentally?" the Dark Lord asked.
"In a manner of speaking," Snape answered carefully.
"Stop tip-toeing around the subject and tell me exactly what she did!"
Snape flinched and gulped. "She made the students write lines in detention
using Blood Quills. She also had a tendency to give the students a dressing
down whenever she thought they needed it."
"And the school?"
"She changed the castle and classes as she saw fit," Snape said.
"Lucius, was she really trying to get the Minister to allow dementors to guard
the school?"
"Yes, my Lord," Lucius answered slowly.
"Why is it that neither of you thought to tell me any of this?" Voldemort
asked. "Why did I have to hear of it from Harry Potter, and not my own Death
Eaters? The ones in charge of the school? You two?!" He ended with a shout.
Neither of them said anything, just looked down at the ground again. "Lucius, I
want that bitch brought here, tonight!"
"Yes, my Lord!" Lucius said, standing and leaving hastily when Voldemort
motioned for him to leave.
"Severus, I want you to brew the right potions and salves to heal the wounds on
Harry's hand."
"Of course, my Lord, but they are quite expensive to produce," Snape said.
"Yes, and I don't care," Voldemort said through gritted teeth. "And you're
going to be a good boy and brew enough for the other students at that school,
purely out of the goodness of your heart. Do you understand?"
"Yes, my Lord," Snape muttered, barely meeting his Lord's eyes.
"Those children are the future of the Wizarding World and you let that crazed
power-hungry quim abuse them!" Voldemort said, leaning forward to growl the
words in Snape's face. "You and Lucius, and now Harry, are the only ones who
know what I really want to do with the world. You know, that I don't condone
child abuse of any kind. From my Death Eaters or from any others, Magical or
Muggle. I don't even harm children myself, unless they pose a real threat,
which is a very rare occurrence. Now, I learn today that Harry was left to be
abused by his relatives, with the scars to prove it, and that all the other
Magical children at Hogwarts were harmed by their own teacher."
Snape stayed silent, processing everything the Dark Lord had just said to him.
He didn't really know what to say or think. "I... Potter was abused?" he asked.
"I'm sorry, my Lord, but I find that hard to believe."
"Believe it," Voldemort ground out. "I looked into his mind and saw all of it!
He has more scars on his body than you could fathom!"
"I never saw any scars," Snape made the mistake of saying, looking up at
Voldemort.
"He's been wearing glamours, you twat!" Snape looked away again, shocked that
his Lord was so angered by this as to do away with his decorum and use such
vulgar language. "You and I were both abused as children, but neither of us
ever experienced anything like what he has. We were beaten every few days at
least, but he got it severely and on a daily basis; from his family and even
some of their neighbors! He has scars from where his uncle whipped him with his
belt, burns on his hands from cooking food for his so-called family; food that
he was not allowed to eat. Burns all over him that look like they were made my
cigars. There's a burn on the palm of his left hand that is in the spiral shape
of a Muggle stove, burnt badly enough that there is no way he could have done
it himself. There are marks on his arms and torso, that are obviously from a
knife, in places that he could not have reached on his own. Words carved into
his chest and back; words like 'Freak', 'Devil' and 'Abnormal'. There are scars
from stab wounds on his chest, wounds that should have killed him, that would
have killed him had his magic not been as powerful as it is. In his memories, I
saw when his uncle and his poker buddies got so drunk they made a game out of
who could hit him hard enough to knock him out, on more than one occassion.
Again, the only thing that saved him from death or severe brain damage was his
magic!" Voldemort shifted in his seat. "I killed the neighbors that dared to
touch him, his Muggle relatives are in the dungeons right now, and I'm going
down there to punish them some more... once I'm finished punishing you for
failing to do your job. I assigned you and Lucius to watch over that school and
its students. Lucius is an idiot, but you aren't, and you let this happen!"
With that, Voldemort pulled out his wand and used the Cruciatus Curse on Snape
for a little over a minute. After he was done, he stood over Snape's wheezing
form, looking him in the eye. "Now, you will brew the potions I asked for, as
well as potions for reducing the appearance of old scars. Burn salves should
still heal the burn scars, I'll need those too. Skele-gro to get rid of any
mishealed breaks that might remain. And any other potions you might think of
that will rid Harry's body of any sign of what those beasts did to him. You
have one week to get them all for me." He turned and sat back down in his
throne. "And, one more thing, I need you to retrieve Harry's belongings from
Hogwarts. All of them, if I find anything missing, I will take it out of your
hide. Now get out of my sight!"
Once Snape had left the room, Voldemort waited for Lucius to arrive with
Umbridge. He, thankfully, didn't have to wait long. Twenty minutes later,
Dolores Umbridge was tied up and sobbing on the floor in front of him. Lucius
and the Lestrange brothers were standing behind her, their faces the epitome of
indifference.
"Thank you, Gentlemen," Voldemort smiled darkly, his red eyes locked on the
pink toad woman in front of him. "You may go." Lucius and the Lestranges bowed
and left. Voldemort snapped his fingers, summoning the elf that was in charge
of the dungeons. "Chopper, take this... thing to the dungeons, please."
"Yes, Master," Chopper answered, disappearing with a pop, taking Umbridge with
him.
The Dark Lord waited a few minutes, to calm himself a little, before he stood
up and made his way to the dungeons as well. He had a toad to dissect and a fat
whale that needed to be parted from his cock.
TBC
Chapter End Notes
     Any noticing the One Piece references I keep making? Anyone?
     REVIEW PLEASE!
***** Seer *****
Chapter Summary
     You all wanted to know what happened to Luna, here she is!
Chapter Notes
     Here's a new chapter! Sorry it took so long. Life happened.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
"Speech."
'Thoughts.'
"~Parseltongue.~"
Spells and potions.
+Chapter 9: Seer+
--Saint Mungo's Hospital, London. Saturday 2 March 1996, 05:30 a.m.--
Minerva McGonagall walked briskly through the boring white halls of Saint
Mungo's, looking for the long term ward of the Spell Damage Department. Ten
minutes ago, McGonagall had been in her office, getting ready for the school
day when Auror Tonks had come by to tell her about what happened in Little
Whinging. She informed the Deputy Headmistress that a few Order members had
been killed and even more had been hospitalized, including one Albus
Dumbledore.
She came up to the room she'd been looking for and walked through the door in a
flurry of robes and rage. "Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore!" she
shouted as soon as she saw the old wizard sitting up in his bed with his usual
twinkling eyes.
"Ah, Minerva! Lovely of you to come!" Dumbledore greeted her in a chipper
voice. McGonagall seethed as she walked over to his bed and stood towering over
him.
"A day, Albus! One measly day you've had the school back! Now, you're in the
hospital! In the long term ward!" McGonagall shouted.
Dumbledore looked at her for a silent moment, then turned to the other people
in the room; two healers, Minister Fudge, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and Molly and
Bill Weasley. "Could you give us a moment? Bill, if you could stay."
"Of course, dear!" Molly said. "I should go check on Arthur anyway!" The others
left, Molly ushering everyone out after the healers gave Dumbledore one more
warning not to get out of bed. Fudge left in a huff, muttering about
insufferable Headmasters. Bill stood awkwardly in the room, halfway between the
bed and the door.
McGonagall heaved a sigh. "What happened? Nymphadora didn't give me many
details."
Dumbledore sighed as well. "Sit." He gestured to the chair beside him.
McGonagall did as she was told and took up the chair beside the bed, pulling it
closer. "It would seem Miss Granger was right," he started. "Voldemort, he told
me his plans for Harry, for some reason. I don't know why they are his reasons,
or why he told me. Then again, maybe he thought I wouldn't live much longer,
with that curse he used."
"If Mum hadn't called me in to do my job as a Curse Breaker, you would have,"
Bill said. "I assume that's why you wanted me to stay? To explain the curse
better than what the healers could tell you." Dumbledore nodded and Minerva
gave him her undivided attention. Bill nodded and took a deep calming breath
and blew it out slowly. "Well, You-Know-Who really knows his stuff. I've only
ever come across a curse like that one time. It was a different curse from what
was around you, but it had the same characteristics. The Egyptians used to use
them all the time. I'm not sure where that curse he put on you originated from,
but it wasn't from Egypt. All I know is that it's a sphere meant for containing
something a lot more powerful than a wizard, and it drains the magic out of who
or whatever is inside it. It was probably meant for a demon or something like
that. Usually, with something like this, the magic that's drained away would be
ciphoned into the caster for them to use however they wanted, but You-Know-Who
seems to have modified it to just drain the magic away, letting it filter off
into the Ether. Essentially, he sucked the magic out of you and let it go to
waste. He didn't want your magic, he just wanted to weaken or kill you. If
you'd stayed in there any longer, it would have killed you. If you weren't
Albus Dumbledore, you'd have been dead long before I got there. As it is, your
current magic deficiency will keep you incapacitated for a while, probably
months, until your core can build itself up again. You might feel okay lying in
bed, but the second you try to get up, you'll feel like you got hit by the
Hogwart's Express. Twice, going both ways."
Dumbledore chuckled at the analogy. "I feel that way in bed too. And if I
hadn't been Albus Dumbledore, I wouldn't have been in that sphere to begin
with." They were all silent for a few moments, thinking it all over.
"Well, I should go check on Dad," Bill said. "I'm sure Mum will be by again
later."
"Thank you, Bill," Dumbledore told him. "I owe you my life."
Bill waved him off. "You would have done the same for any one of us." And Bill
turned and left the room, closing the door behind him.
McGonagall turned to Dumbledore and studied him for a few moments. "Albus,"
McGonagall said. "What exactly did he say he wanted with Harry?"
"It seems Harry's friends were right," Dumbledore answered. "Completely. He
wants him to bear his children. I don't know what changed his mind so
completely. Minerva, he said he'd heard the whole prophecy. He has spies in the
Department of Mysteries that we didn't detect, and he believes that the
prophecy was fulfilled the night he went after the Potters."
"But how can it be? He's still alive, Harry hasn't killed him," McGonagall
said.
"That's just it, Minerva. The prophecy didn't say that Harry had to kill him,
it said that Harry would have the power to 'vanquish' him, not 'kill' him. It
said one would have to die at the hand of the other, and Voldemort,
essentially, did die because of Harry that night. His body died when his soul
was ripped away and he was left as nothing more than a wraith, not truly alive.
The prophecy is fulfilled. I should have seen it! I should have realized that
myself."
McGonagall stared at him with her jaw slack. "Oh, my gods," she whispered,
sighing and letting her shoulders sag in a relief she didn't expect to feel.
"So... What happens now?" McGonagall asked in a whisper.
Dumbledore shook his head lightly. "I don't know."
A sharp knock at the door brought them both out of their reveries.
"Enter," Dumbledore said, watching Severus Snape walk through the door after he
spoke. "Severus. I didn't expect to see you again so soon."
"I didn't expect to find you in the hospital," Snape shot back, closing the
door and throwing up privacy wards. "I have just come from the Dark Lord."
"And?"
"He's only just found out about what's been going on at the school. I would
have thought Lucius Malfoy would have told him about it sooner, but,
apparently, Lucius is more inept than I thought. I even got punished for his
idiocy. He's not happy about what Umbridge has been doing to the school and the
students. He's even had Dolores Umbridge kidnapped," Snape said, not showing
even the slightest sign of pity for the woman. "She's in the dungeons right
now."
"I wish I could say I felt sorry for her," McGonagall muttered.
"Minerva!" Dumbledore chided. McGonagall shrugged and turned back to Snape.
"You might feel sorry for her, if you knew what the Dark Lord's dungeons are
like," Snape told her. "Makes the history of the Tower of London look
positively humane." McGonagall failed to suppress a shiver.
"What else, Severus?" Dumbledore asked.
"He's asked me to do a few things, nothing dangerous," Snape told him. "He
wants a few healing potions for Potter."
McGonagall gasped. "So, he has hurt him?"
"I can't be sure, since I didn't see Potter myself," Snape said. "But I don't
think so. He wants potions and salves to heal old scars and injuries. He's also
ordered me to brew enough for all the students at Hogwart's, to heal their
scars from the Blood Quills, at my own cost." Snape rolled his eyes.
"I think the school should be able to pay for that, Severus. Not to worry,"
Dumbledore told him. "Did he say anything else? Did you learn anything else
while you were there?"
"I haven't learned anything more about Potter or Lovegood, or anything new
about the castle in general. The wards are still very potent, only those with a
Dark Mark can pass through them with an exception to transporting prisoners in
but they have to be brought through by someone with a Dark Mark. Before you get
your hopes up, I'd noticed a small change in the wards. I was informed by
Lucius that it was changed specifically to keep Potter from leaving the
premises. Only the Dark Lord himself can take him through the wards."
Dumbledore sighed heavily. "And, as before, I still cannot divulge the
location. I can't even tell you what country it's in."
"It's not in Britain?" McGonagall asked.
Snape shrugged, unable to confirm or deny. "The Dark Lord has also asked that I
retrieve Potter's belongings. If I don't, he'll probably put me in the dungeons
for a few days. I would very much like to avoid that. I suppose I should get
Lovegood's belongings as well."
Dumbledore nodded. "Minerva can assist you with that. I don't see any problem
with giving Harry or Luna their own belongings, since there is no way to take
them away from the Dark Lord any time soon. Not while I'm in here. And, if what
Tom has said is true, then he will take very good care of those two, so I'd
assume he wants Harry's things to make Harry more comfortable with his new
surroundings."
"So, we're going to do nothing to get Harry or Luna back?" McGonagall asked,
her expression saddened.
"For now," Dumbledore answered solemnly.
Snape nodded and he and McGonagall, after giving Dumbledore well wishes and
promises to come back, left for Hogwart's.
 
--Slytherin Castle, somewhere in Ireland. Saturday 2 March 1996, 07:36 a.m.--
Harry woke up slowly and groggily, wrapped in a warmth that could not come from
only blankets. He didn't remember going to bed or falling asleep last night. He
opened his eyes and took stock of himself. He was still partially dressed,
including his undergarments; that was good. Harry looked down to see an arm
wrapped around his waist. Raising an eyebrow, he turned his head to come face
to face with the Dark Lord. Again. Only, this time, he was sleeping soundly.
Harry turned back around, furrowing his brow a little, wondering once again
what Twilight Zone he'd fallen into.
He'd liked that show, whenever he was able to sneak a peek at the television
while the Dursleys were too engrossed in it to notice him. Funny, how they
could handle a TV show that was full of stories that weren't 'normal', but they
wouldn't even bother trying to understand Magic or Harry.
He'd told Hermione about his like for the show and she had agreed it was an
amazing program, but she just couldn't watch it anymore after the episode with
the old man who wanted nothing more than to read all of his books, but his wife
wouldn't let him, then when the world ended and he was the last man on Earth
and he was surrounded by all the books he could possibly read and there was no
one to stop him - he broke his glasses and couldn't see a thing, much less read
his books. Hermione had said that episode had made her cry. Harry laughed at
her, and she punched him in the arm.
Harry smiled at the memory, then frowned. To find himself in a situation that
would put the writers of the Twilight Zone to shame, Harry couldn't help but
feel astonished. It didn't help that he missed his friends terribly, as well.
Harry wriggled a little to get out from under the arm that was invading his
personal space. He'd just gotten it off of him, when it curled around him again
and pulled him back up against a hard chest. He sighed heavily and started
wriggling again.
"Will you stay still?" Voldemort mumbled drowsily. "Some of us are trying to
sleep."
Harry heaved another heavy sigh. "Well, excuse me for needing the loo!" And he
threw the arm off of him and slipped out of the bed.
Harry ran into the bathroom and quickly did his business, but when he went to
go back into the bedroom, he hesitated. He chewed on his lip, leaning up
against the sink. 'This is completely bonkers,' he thought to himself. He
hoisted himself up onto the counter beside the sink, pulling his legs up to
tuck them underneath him. 'I'm sitting in Voldemort's bathroom... and I'm not
trying to run away, for whatever reason. Voldemort isn't trying to kill me,
either.' He rested his chin on his hand. "There's only one explanation for all
of this: I've lost my marbles."
"No, you haven't," Voldemort said, coming through the door without even
thinking about knocking, and naked as the day he was born. "Now, stop thinking
so hard. You're giving me a headache." Harry flushed and averted his eyes when
Voldemort went to use the toilet himself. "Why are you sitting on the counter?"
he asked, coming to stand beside Harry to wash his hands.
Harry shrugged. "Like I said, I've lost my marbles. I've gone round the bend.
I'm cuckoo. I'm mad as a hatter. I've fallen off my rocker. My cheese has slid
off my cracker."
"Sorry, what was that last one?" Voldemort smirked, drying his hands.
"Something I've heard my Aunt say about people she thinks are mad. Hermione has
said it before too." Harry chuckled, still sitting comfortably on the counter.
"Did you give me the second dose of that potion? My abdomen hurts a bit."
"Yes, I did." Voldemort smiled. "The pain should fade in an hour or so." The
Dark Lord grabs Harry's hand, the one holding his head up, and tugs him off the
counter and out of the bathroom. "Come, let's get something to eat."
Harry followed after him, dumbly staring at the hand holding his own. 'Twilight
Zone!' he thought to himself.
"Do I want to know what the Twilight Zone is?" Voldemort asked, pulling Harry
into the huge walk-in closet. He gestured to the opposite side of the closet.
"Severus brought your things, and the elves have taken it upon themselves to
put everything away." The Dark Lord stood there a moment and stared at the
meager amount of belongings Harry had - not to mention the state of most of his
clothes. "Definitely inviting Narcissa over," he muttered to himself, then
turned and pulled out one of his own robes to put on.
Harry smiled a little and went to put on some of the comfortable clothes he'd
bought himself for Christmas - at Molly and Ginny's insistance, of course. He
pulled on some tight-fitting pre-faded blue jeans and a distressed red Foo
Fighters t-shirt. He pulled on a black robe over it all that he left
unfastened. It was just his usual outfit, really.
Voldemort watched with some amusement and had to hold back a chuckle when he
saw Harry put his t-shirt on; it was cute how his hair flattened when the shirt
was pulled over his head, only for it spring back to the same place it was
before when his head popped through the hole. He didn't think he would ever
admit it out loud, but he really thought Harry was adorable sometimes, without
him ever trying to be. He'd noticed this after only one day spent with the
teen.
Harry was so oblivious to how he was watched by others. Voldemort was certain
he wasn't the only person to notice how adorable, innocent and interesting
Harry was just to watch. Not to mention carrying a conversation with him was
even more amusing, or even enlightening sometimes, surprisingly. Those thoughts
sent a surge of possessiveness through him, one of his eyes twitching was the
only outward sign of his frustration.
The Dark Lord reached out to grab the front of Harry's shirt, startling the
teenager. He pulled him forward and put a brief but firm kiss to Harry's mouth.
He pulled back and smirked at the bright red face staring back at him with wide
green eyes.
"Stop doing that," Harry murmured.
"No," Voldemort said, and did it again, making Harry's eyes go impossibly wider
and his face even redder. The Dark Lord's smirk broadened, as he let go of
Harry. "Put some shoes on and let's go."
Harry turned to find his shoes organized on a lower shelf, he grabbed a pair of
black and white trainers and pulled them on. As he was lacing them, he glanced
up at the other shelves and noticed his glasses laying there beside his other
few accessories. He smiled and grabbed them up, after he'd finished with his
shoes. The vision correction potion was wearing off anyway, so he put them on
with a short whoop.
Voldemort tilted his head and stared at Harry and his new glasses for a moment,
then pulled out his wand. Harry flinched when the Dark Lord pointed it at his
face. Voldemort muttered something and Harry felt and saw his glasses change.
Furrowing his brow he pulled them off again and looked at them, then looked up
with his mouth agape, glaring incredulously at the straight-faced Dark Lord.
"What the hell?!" Harry shouted. "I just bought those, I wanted something new!
Now you just transfigure them to look like my old ones!?"
"I like the round ones better," Voldemort told him and turned to leave the
closet, now fully dressed.
"Well, I don't!" Harry spat, following the older man back out to the bedroom,
grudgingly putting the glasses back on his face.
"Oh well," Voldemort muttered, leading Harry out of the room and to the small
dining room.
Harry scowled all through breakfast, looking as though he was trying really
hard not to throw something at the Dark Lord.
"Have you finished eating?" Voldemort asked after he'd finished eating himself.
Harry glared at him, stabbing a sausage rather violently with his fork,
implying what he would really like to stab his fork into. Voldemort allowed
himself to roll his eyes, as Harry put the food in his mouth and chewed it
slowly, still glaring. "Oh, get over it already. I have something to show you."
He stood and waited for Harry to finish chewing, then pulled his chair out for
him to get up. Harry got up and shuffled after the Dark Lord, pouting.
"It's not in the dungeons again, is it?" Harry asked.
"No."
They walked down the halls for a few minutes, then went up a flight of stairs
and down another corridor, until they came to a set of white French doors.
Voldemort opened them and ushered Harry into what looked like a sitting room,
done in light colors, with a white grand piano and lots and lots of books.
Harry looked around, wondering what he needed to see here, when he saw someone
sit up on one of the couches.
"Luna!" Harry exclaimed and ran to the blond, enveloping her in a tight hug.
"What are you doing here?"
"They brought me at the same time as you," she said in her dreamy voice,
hugging him back.
After they'd stood there comfortably holding each other for a long moment -
that was apparently too long - Voldemort grabbed Harry by the back of his robes
and pulled him out of Luna's grasp. "Hey!" Harry protested.
Luna giggled. "The Dark Lord is very easily jealous, I find it quite adorable,"
she stage whispered to Harry, earning a death glare from said Dark Lord.
"I find it quite annoying," Harry muttered, tugging himself out of Voldemort's
grasp.
Voldemort sighed at Harry's petulant look. "I have things to do today, so I
will leave you two to entertain yourselves. I would prefer if you stay in this
room." At that moment, two men walked through the door, they were wearing Death
Eater robes, but they didn't have masks or hoods covering their faces. They
both had short brown hair and pasty skin, and looked a little malnourished, but
they were still bigger and with more muscle than Harry. Voldemort glanced at
them, then turned back to Harry and Luna. "The Lestrange brothers will be in
charge of watching you. If you need anything, let them know and they will get
it for you." He grabbed Harry by the arm and pulled him closer to whisper into
his ear. "Do be a good boy and keep your hands to yourself. I would hate to
have to hurt your friend for touching something that belongs to me."
Harry scowled at him, before Voldemort twined his fingers into Harry's hair and
tugged his head back to get a better angle to put another rough kiss to Harry's
lips, with a lot of tongue. Harry was so tempted to bite him, but decided
against it, if only so Voldemort would leave faster. When the Dark Lord pulled
away, Harry glowered up at him. "I hope you get hit by a bus," Harry grumbled.
Voldemort chuckled. "Well, I doubt that will happen, as I won't be crossing any
Muggle streets. See you later." He turned and walked to the door. Opening the
door, he turned back to grin at Harry before he left the room. "I will be
getting a full report from the Lestrange brothers later, so do behave
yourselves." With that, he closed the door behind him.
Harry continued to scowl at the closed door. "I hate him."
Luna giggled again. "Not for much longer," she sang, a big smile on her face.
Harry turned to glower at her instead. "Don't tell me that." Luna smiled wider
and sat down on the couch again, pulling Harry down to sit beside her. "So,
please tell me they're not making you stay in the dungeon or something."
"No, I have a very lovely room, just on the other side of that door. They even
brought my things from Hogwart's," Luna pointed to a door on the opposite side
of the room from the one Harry had come in through. Harry looked at the door,
got up and walked over to it. He looked into the room and, seeing that it was
almost as big as the room he shared with Voldemort, deemed it satisfactory and
walked back over to the couch Luna was sitting on.
"They haven't hurt you, have they?" Harry asked, sitting down beside his
eccentric friend once again.
Luna shook her head. "Nope."
Harry gave a relieved sigh. "Good." Harry fidgeted for a moment, then looked up
at Luna again. "Did Voldemort say why he brought you here?"
Luna nodded, her face suddenly going serious. "He said he just wanted to
protect me from anyone that might want to use me for my abilities, but I know
that he really wants me here so that I can help him with taking over the world.
Though, I suppose he was telling me the truth, since he's not the kind of
person who would abuse me or my Sight, he knows it's not something that can be
forced. He just hopes that if I See something that would help him, I might tell
him about it. I said I would tell him if there was anything that he really
needed to know, on the condition that he takes it slow with you. I know you'll
have to sleep together soon, but your emotional relationship needs to progress
more slowly, or you two might just end up hurting each other." Luna smiled at
Harry. "I don't want you to get hurt, just because his feelings built too fast
for him to understand or control. They are already building at an alarming
rate, which isn't a very good thing for someone who is prone to obsessing over
things. It's not good for the person he's obsessing over, either."
Harry blinked, his brow furrowing. "I'm not sure I understand," he confessed.
Luna smiled again. "You think about it," she said, turning to look around at
the rest of the room. "The Dark Lord was kind enough to get me a piano when I
asked," Luna informed, pointing to the white piano standing in front of the big
bay window. Harry turned to look at it, then back to Luna and shared a wide
smile with her. Luna got up and skipped over to the piano and sat down. "Let's
write another song together, Harry!"
Harry smirked and stood, tossing his outer robe onto the couch, then went to go
sit beside her on the piano bench. "Sure, why not?"
 
The day progressed in a surprisingly normal fashion. Harry and Luna spent most
of their day writing a song, with Luna writing the music out on some blank pre-
lined music sheets. Harry mostly just helped with the lyrics, once he grasped
the subject matter Luna wanted to portray in the song. He also gave his opinion
on the melody when Luna asked, since writing the music itself was kind of
beyond him, but all the same, he could still tell when something sounded good.
He had fun hanging out with Luna, as if they were back at Hogwarts just
lounging in the Room of Requirement. They took a break and ate lunch with the
Lestrange brothers, Luna successfully striking up a relatively inane
conversation with the two steadfast Death Eaters. The only thing that really
bothered Harry was that the one, who had introduced himself as Rabastan
Lestrange, kept glancing at him before flicking his eyes away again, only to do
it all over again a minute later. Even more disturbing was that Luna kept
staring at Rabastan with an uncharacteristically focused expression. There was
a shadow in her eyes that kind of freaked Harry out a little bit, whenever she
was staring at the younger Lestrange brother.
After lunch, Luna and Harry went back to the piano, even though Harry's head
was starting to hurt a little from thinking about notes and lyrics and all
that. Writing music really wasn't Harry's thing, but he just couldn't say no to
her. She was being so enthusiastic about the music and her huge smile was so
infectious, he just couldn't do anything but concede to help her finish the
song.
And the day went on into the early evening. By dinner time, they'd finally
finished the song to the point where Luna was completely happy with it. They
ate a quick dinner and then Luna wanted to try singing the song all the way
through.
 
Voldemort was cursing under his breath, walking briskly through the halls of
his castle. He'd had a particularly bad day full of wall to wall meetings. Two
Death Eater gatherings, one for the Inner Circle - minus the Lestrange
brothers, and one for the lower ranks, assigning tasks and appointing positions
for the idiots to hopefully figure out how to do their jobs right this time. He
didn't expect any of them to get it right, but he could hope, couldn't he?
Then he'd had to sit through a meeting with the German Creature Council, made
up of representatives of all the creature communities of Germany. The meeting
took forever and he sat through it quietly, with his eye twitching every now
and then, having to rein in all of his self control to keep himself from just
slicing them all up into little pieces; especially when the Vampire
representative had the nerve to basically lecture him on his methods and
practices. That Vampire survived because, thankfully, the Veela representative
had heard enough and had interrupted, shouting the Vampire back down into his
place.
After that, there was a short meeting with Fenrir Greyback about the current
affairs of the wolf packs in Britain and Ireland, and laying out the plans for
Fenrir to assimilate the packs in Denmark with his own packs. When Fenrir left,
Voldemort was going to go down into the dungeons and torture the Dursleys and
the toad woman to blow off some steam, but then he looked at the clock and
noticed it was way past dinner time. It was almost time for Harry to take the
last dose of the Graviditate potion. The Dark Lord sighed heavily and abandoned
his means of stress relief, and instead went to find Harry.
As he was approaching the sitting room he'd left the Seer and Harry in, the
Dark Lord heard music coming from the door he was about to walk through. He
heard someone playing the piano and could clearly hear the voice of Luna
Lovegood belting out a beautiful melody.
"Armies have conquered and fallen in the end
Kingdoms have risen, then buried by sand
The Earth is our mother, she gives and she takes
She puts us to sleep, in her light we'll awake
We'll all be forgotten, there's no endless fame
But everything we do it's never in vain
We're part of a story, part of a tale
We're all on this journey, no one is to stay
Wherever it's going, what is the way?
Forests and deserts, rivers, blue seas
Mountains and valleys
Nothing here stays
While we think we witness, we are part of the scene
This never-ending story, what will it lead to?
The earth is our mother, she gives and she takes
But she is also a part, a part of the tale
We're part of a story, part of a tale
We're all on this journey, no one is to stay
Wherever it's going? What is the way?
We're part of a story, part of a tale
Sometimes beautiful and sometimes insane
No one remembers how it began.
We're part of a story, part of a tale
We're all on this journey, no one is to stay
Where is it going? What is the way?
We're part of a story, part of a tale
Sometimes beautiful, sometimes insane
No one remembers how it began."
Voldemort stood in the doorway and listened to the girl sing and watched Harry
play the piano, albeit a little clumsily. 'When did he learn to play the
piano?' he asked himself, as he walked into the room and closed the door
quietly behind him. He leaned on one of the many bookcases and listened to the
words carefully. He could honestly say he agreed with most of those sentiments,
but some he was definitely going to challenge with all of his being.
When the song was finished, the Dark Lord clapped, startling the two
performers. The Lestrange brothers followed their Master's example, applauding
the two for a few short moments. Rabastan was a little more enthusiastic with
his clapping than his brother.
Harry shamefully blushed up to his ears when he saw Voldemort was in the room,
and he hadn't even noticed his arrival. He turned back to Luna with a shy grin
on his face, when he noticed Luna staring at one of the brothers again. It
wasn't usually a good thing when Luna stared at someone, it meant she was
Seeing something about them. She'd done it enough to Harry for him to know what
that look meant. Harry turned to see that she was staring at the younger of the
two again. Suddenly, Luna turned to Harry and leaned over to whisper in his
ear.
"Be wary of the younger one. He doesn't understand the difference," she told
him, a serious expression on his face. "He will seek to take what is not his,
in his own confusion."
Harry stared at her for a moment, then glanced at Rabastan Lestrange curiously,
before turning back to Luna and giving her a slight nod. He wanted to ask her
to elaborate, but knew that it would get him nothing but more befuddlement.
"How have things been going in here?" Voldemort asked the room in general.
"Fine, until you came in," Harry muttered, crossing his arms.
Voldemort sat down on one of the couches and smirked at Harry, then turned to
the Lestrange brothers. Rodolphus happily relayed all they had done while he
was gone.
"And did the meetings go well, my Lord?" Rodolphus asked good naturedly,
handing Voldemort the glass of Firewhiskey that an elf had just brought.
Voldemort groaned in reply, taking the offered beverage. "They went as well as
they were going to. I was tempted to kill a few people in the process, but I
resisted the urge. Why must everyone be so dim?" Harry rolled his eyes and
turned to Luna, helping her pack up all the music sheets and quills. He missed
the leering smirk that the Dark Lord sent in his direction when he bent over to
pick up a stray sheet of paper.
And no one saw the intensfying gaze of Rabastan Lestrange when Harry's t-shirt
rode up a little, revealing a strip of the soft pale skin of his back.
Voldemort stood, after finishing his drink and setting the empty glass on the
table, where it vanished to the kitchens to be cleaned. "Well, it's time for us
to retire for the night, Harry." He held out his hand to Harry.
Harry looked at him, glancing at the hand warily, like it might bite him. He
handed the papers he was holding to Luna, who was smiling and snickering, and
gave her a quick hug. "Good night, Luna. I'll see you again soon. I hope." When
he let go, he turned around and looked at the proffered hand, before
tentatively putting his own hand into Voldemort's. The Dark Lord seemed to let
out a small sigh of relief, as he closed his hand around Harry's, holding it in
a firm but gentle grasp as he gave it a small tug and led Harry out of the room
and down the corridors til they reached their own room.
"Have you eaten?" Voldemort asked, closing the door behind them.
"Yes," Harry said, fidgeting slightly.
"Good," the Dark Lord pulled the last phial of Graviditate out of his pocket,
along with a sleeping draught, and handed it to Harry.
Harry slowly took the phials from him and drank them both, then quickly changed
into his pajamas before the sleeping draught could kick in. He crawled into bed
and curled up under the blankets.
"Now, we wait one week before you take the Ovi Ubertatem potion," Voldemort
said, allowing himself the luxury of tucking Harry in again. He left the room
without another word, once he noticed Harry was already falling asleep. He
still had a little time to assuage his foul mood in the dungeons and have a
light dinner. He just couldn't decide which to do first. Maybe he could do both
at the same time?
TBC
Chapter End Notes
     Song lyrics are from Within Temptation "Never-ending Story"
***** AUTHOR'S NOTE! *****
Chapter Summary
     Author's notice.
AUTHOR'S NOTICE: from ChibiAyane
To all of my followers, I apologize a hundred times over for not updating any
of my fics for a while. I had an accident some time ago and ended up breaking a
few vertebrae in my spine. I had to have a major surgery to repair it, and I've
basically been out of commission for a while. So, since then I have been on
more pain medication than I care to be, and hence, have not been able to focus
on writing... or much of anything really. It's taking a lot of time to recover
and I've only recently been allowed to reduce my medications. Hopefully, I'll
be able to get back to ALL of my stories very soon.
Please don't give up on me yet! I haven't abandoned any of my fics, I promise!
However, if for some reason someone would like to take over one of my stories,
to get it going again sooner than I would, I'm okay with letting some of them
go through another's mind to find their completion.
Thank you for understanding!
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!
