A/N- Second story, and a bit shorter than my first offering. I split the story into three chapters, even though the total word count is under 10k. Story is rated M for adult situations, namely language and sexual themes (there's not a lot of that, but enough to warrant the M rating). Characters may be slightly OOC, and I completely disregard JKR's Epilogue. This story is non-beta'd, so I'd really appreciate constructive criticisms.
(insert standard disclaimer)
Harry awoke with a start, gasping for breath and jerking his hand under his pillow to find his wand. He was reassured by the warm feel of the holly wood in his hand, and only then did he search for his glasses. There was something wrong; he could feel it in the air.
When he donned the wire-rimmed glasses and looked around, his mind slowly took in the situation. He was in the tent that he'd been sharing with Ron and Hermione during their horcrux hunt. The air was eerily quiet, with an unnatural stillness permeating the tent. There was no sense of anyone's presence; Ron's snoring was unheard nor were Hermione's softer, feminine breaths of sleep. Harry stood; finding himself already dressed, and tried to remember how he got there.
"The last thing I remember is walking into the Forbidden Forrest to face Voldemort," Harry thought to himself. He crept around the tent, looking for clues for his friends. The tent was remarkably devoid of any sign of life besides his own. There was the table, set for one. The other bunks were missing, as were any trunks or packs. On the table, beside the used plate and cup, sat a Muggle notebook and pen. Harry sat and began reading his own handwriting.
"27 December, 1997. The lead to Godric's Hollow was a failure. Saw my parent's grave. Something drew me to another one, Peverell, but I've no clue why. No sign of a horcrux in the whole sodding village. For prosperity's sake, the count stands thus:
Found/destroyed- Ring (by Dumbledore), Diary (2nd year), Locket (Gryffindor sword).
Missing- cup, diadem, unknown, unknown.
Three bloody horcruxes down, four left, two of which I don't even know what they are. Times like this I wish I had some help. Professor Dumbledore had to be a bloody fool to go after that ring on his own- I need his help! And what does he give me? Clues as to what two others are and a 'good luck and Godspeed' as a parting gift? Ron was right; the old man must've gone round the twist. Gods, I miss that ginger-haired goofball."
"26 December, 1997. Merry Christmas, by the way. Right ruddy holiday so far, that's for sure. Being alone on the hols always does me in. Too many friends gone, too many lives lost to that damnable Voldemort. Had to move the campsite again yesterday. Heard the snatchers creeping around the forest. I need better wards!
For some reason, I've been thinking about first year. I could sure use that Stone now. First year was a good year- we only lost one student and one professor. I wish I could've done something about that girl; nobody should be mauled & half-eaten by a troll. Well, maybe Snape."
Harry staggered back from the table. The implications of the words hit him like a brick. Hermione? How had she died in first year- he and Ron had saved her! And Ron? What happened to him? Both of them were gone!
"Can't… Can't be real," Harry gasped for breath, feeling as if the tent was suddenly closing in on him. He threw himself outside, crashing into a tree and stumbling. As he fell, the scene shifted and he hit the ground before a tombstone. A quick look around told him that he was in a Muggle cemetery- the electric lights were a quick giveaway. It was then that he noticed the headstone in front of him.
"Hermione Jean Granger
19/9/1979 – 31/10/1991
A future so bright, dimmed far too soon"
Harry turned, stumbling into a mist that cleared instantly and he saw himself at the apple orchard behind the Burrow. Again, a tombstone loomed ahead in his vision.
"Ronald Bilius Weasley
01/03/1980 – 31/07/1997
But what cost, friendship?"
"No!" Harry cried out, falling to the ground. He turned away from Ron's grave, only to discover the white marble tomb belonging to Dumbledore. Another turn faced him with the graves of Neville, Luna, Ginny, and more, until Harry eventually collapsed in a heap.
When he finally looked up again, he was back in his tent. "Have I gone round the twist?" he mused. The table in the middle of the tent was as he'd left it, and he returned to sit and read more of his journal.
"14/02/1998. Happy Valentine's Day. Love. Who's there to love? Do I even know what love is? Dumbledore seemed to think so, but I honestly wonder if he wasn't trying to chat me up. The wireless said that we've lost the twins. Everyone I've ever been close to is gone. Every. Single. Person. I couldn't be more damaging to the Light if I were a paid assassin!"
07/03/1998. The Ministry's teeming with Death Eaters; they practically have the run of the country! All that's left is Hogwarts. The wireless says that the remaining resistance is hiding there, but the "new" government is going to intervene. Still, they suspect that Riddle will attack before that happens.
Why fight? I haven't found a bloody thing since I lucked up and got that locket, and I know there's four more horcruxes out there. We can't win! I'm going to the goblins. Maybe they will help save people. I'll give them everything in my vaults if it helps."
"10/03/1998. The goblins, greedy buggers, were no help. Confiscated everything in my vaults and threw me out. Said I should've never crossed the Dark Lord. I almost wish they'd called him, let him end it now."
"01/04/1998. In honor of Gred and Forge, I'm going to Hogwarts today. Voldemort is moving on the castle and I have to help defend it. I hope to see all my friends again soon."
Harry sat, a silent tear dropping from his eye as he read the last entry. He could feel the despair in the words. Slowly, he stood and left the tent, hardly surprised to find himself walking onto the battlefield at the school. Curses flew past him as he continued, oblivious and invisible to the danger. He found himself near the lake, watching as he battled Voldemort. Spells flew back and forth; shields gleamed in the sunlight before shattering. He saw himself falter, trip, and then a curse severed his wand arm. Voldemort laughed a hissing laugh that echoed in his mind. Voldemort casually walked towards the injured Harry, picking up the lost wand and breaking it. Voldemort conjured a long, curved dagger and stood over his fallen opponent. With a wave of Voldemort's hand, Harry's arm stopped bleeding and he was held upright by unseen hands. Voldemort held the blade to Harry's neck and then his eyes turned to meet… Harry's. They registered no surprise at seeing two Harry Potters. He sneered much like Snape, and his whispered voice carried across the field.
"Defeat is inevitable, Potter. Everything you ever cared for, everyone you ever cared for is destroyed. You led me to them. You killed them. It. Is. Unavoidable." Voldemort hissed as he cut the throat of the suspended, one-armed Harry. He laughed as both Potters fell to the ground, one already near death and the other wailing with despair.
Harry awoke with a start, gasping for breath and jerking his hand under his pillow to find his wand. He was reassured by the warm feel of the holly wood in his hand, and only then did he search for his glasses. He blinked, remembering the dream vividly. He could feel the carvings on the tombstones, smell the coppery taint of blood in the air, and hear the mocking laughter of Voldemort from his dream. Harry slowly stood, finding himself dressed comfortably in pajama pants and a t-shirt. A quick trip to the loo helped clear his mind, and he walked downstairs to the kitchen.
There he found a meal already waiting for him, hot and deliciously fragrant. He ate in solitude, wondering where his friends were. After the dream he'd had, he wanted to check on them all.
"Would Master be wanting anything else?" An all-too familiar voice sounded from behind him, dripping with hatred and malice.
"Hermione?" Harry jumped up, turning, to find her kneeling by the stove. He was shocked by what he saw. She was barely dressed, but looked healthy. Her long bushy brown hair had been dyed black, and her face was hard, as if she were fighting an inner battle.
"Hermione, what's going on? Why are you dressed like that? What are you doing?"
Her eyes flashed with undisguised anger. "Master must remember that he wants his slave dressed so. Master takes his breakfast thusly every day." Her voice was mockingly subservient.
"But, how did…" Suddenly, a memory flashed in Harry's mind. Many such breakfasts had passed just like this, with Hermione forced to perform many lewd and obscene acts for his amusement. Instinctively, his arousal grew inside his pants. Harry tried to hide his embarrassing discomfort, but to no avail.
"Master always takes… Dessert… After breakfast," Hermione hissed as she crawled towards Harry. He was shocked as she tugged his pants down, stroking his manhood into full stiffness before taking him into her mouth.
She paused only to ask, "Would Master prefer his slave or his Lady?"
"Lady?" Harry asked in shock. Suddenly Daphne Greengrass appeared. She was clad in a silk robe that was tied loosely. She sneered when she saw Hermione servicing Harry.
"Does my Lord require the services of a nobler Lady?" Daphne dropped her robe to reveal her soft curves. "Use the mudblood whore for the foreplay and give your noble seed to a proper Lady?" She eyed Harry's erection and reached down to stroke it, shoving Hermione aside carelessly. "How does my Lord want me?"
Harry blinked, completely gob smacked and astounded at the scene unfolding around him. Hermione was glaring at him with undisguised hatred, while Daphne's eyes almost glowed with a lustful hunger. "What… What is going on here?"
Daphne pushed Harry onto a chair and climbed into his lap, grinding herself against him. Some magic held him immobile and unable to stop her. "Surely you remember, my Lord. All of this," she waved her hands around the room, "as a reward for capitulating to the Dark Lord. You are second only to He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named. As compensation for joining him, the Dark Lord procured for you two things: a noble, pureblood lady to stand by your side, and a certain mudblood wench to serve as your slave." Daphne laughed and started to guide Harry's manhood into her. "He allowed her to retain her own mind, but you know that she cannot betray you in any way." Daphne began to ride his manhood, grinding herself against him and quickly coaxing his orgasm upwards. Her eyes gleamed wickedly. "And the best part is that she gave herself up to you freely. Seems the poor girl wanted something much higher than her station. I hear her crying at night, whispering your name. But only I am worthy to bear your issue, my Lord, and only I may receive your seed!"
Harry spasmed and cried out. "Noooo!" His orgasm reluctantly raced over his body, shooting jolts of pleasure throughout his body.
Harry awoke with a start, gasping for breath and jerking his hand under his pillow to find his wand. He was reassured by the warm feel of the holly wood in his hand, and only then did he search for his glasses. His body shook with the after affects of the dream he'd just had. To his shame, an erection tented his sheet.
"What the bloody hell is going on?" He growled, rushing to the loo to relieve his bladder. Downstairs, he fixed some toast and looked around. Grimmauld Place looked normal, with an obvious lack of near-naked slave girls or tombstones in the yard. After eating, he stood and waved his wand to clean the kitchen, but nothing happened.
"Great, what next?" Harry grumbled, tossing the dishes in the sink. He tried a few more simple spells with the same result: nothing. He hurried up the stairs and through the shower, then dressed and headed out the back door. In the small yard he found himself rooted to the spot as he watched Hermione and Ron appear, stumbling and laughing.
"Hey guys! What's going on?" Harry asked the pair.
Ron's lip curled. "What are you doing here, boy?" His voice had an echo of Vernon Dursley in the way he said boy, and Harry was reminded of the abuses heaped on him by his corpulent uncle. Instinctively, Harry cringed. Ron waved his wand, causing invisible hands to shove Harry aside. "See, Herms, once a little freak, always a little freak." He pawed at her hungrily. "Let's go inside…"
Hermione eyed Harry with a twinge of sadness and disappointment. "You gave up so much for us, why do you keep coming back? Why do you keep that useless stick?" She waved her hand towards the wand in Harry's hand. "Give up and move on, freak, like the rest of the world has!" She stormed past Harry, practically dragging the smirking Ron behind her.
"Gotta run, mate. Looks like I'm in for a good shagging! You know that she's always extra wild after she tells you off!" Ron laughed and chased Hermione into the house.
Harry sat on the ground, words coming unbidden to his memory.
"What would you give up, to save the world- to save those you love?" Voldemort laughed as he held Harry in the cruciatus curse.
"Everything, for them," Harry gasped.
Voldemort tilted his head in consideration. "Even your magic?"
"Magic. Life. Whatever it takes."
"Oh but it would be too easy to take your life. You should live, an example of the futility of defiance. Live to watch the ones you love hate you." The world faded to black as Tom Riddle weaved an incredibly complicated spell over Harry's body. "Yes, a life without magic, and without your vaunted 'love'," he whispered.
Harry heard the shriek of laughter and couldn't help but imagine Ron upstairs in the bedroom, ravishing Hermione lustily. The world drifted into a white haze.
Harry awoke with a start, gasping for breath and jerking his hand under his pillow to find his wand. He was reassured by the warm feel of the holly wood in his hand, and only then did he search for his glasses. Strangely, he found that he didn't need the glasses; his vision had corrected itself somehow. "Magic," Harry snorted inwardly. He went downstairs after his normal morning routine, eating quickly before heading to the back yard.
An owl intercepted him, dropping a letter into his hands before flying off in a flurry of feathers. It read, "Harry. Bad news. It looks like the rumors are true- Ron & Hermione have gone dark. Luna heard the conversation, seems Voldy sold them a promise of power and survival. I myself saw them attack Hogsmeade. Ruthless, they were. Sorry, mate. It looks like we'll have to take them down too. Signed, Nev."
"Bugger these ruddy dreams, I'm not playing anymore," Harry growled, throwing the parchment to the ground. He walked back into the house and found the wet bar, drinking himself into oblivion.
Harry awoke with a start, gasping for breath and jerking his hand under his pillow to find his wand. He was reassured by the warm feel of the holly wood in his hand, and only then did he search for his glasses.
"Fuck. Not again," he grumbled. "What was that ruddy American movie about reliving the same day over and over? I feel like that character…" Harry reluctantly rose from the bed and went through his normal morning routine. This time there were others downstairs. He couldn't recognize the voices, but he recognized the peaceful, happy tones. He walked into the kitchen.
"Good morning, sleepy head. Decided on a lie-in?" A raven-haired woman asked him cheerfully. She stood almost as tall as Harry, with long black hair and piercing black eyes. Harry felt an inward tug towards her, as if he should know her.
"Yeah, sorry. Been having crazy dreams lately." Harry apologized and sat in an empty chair. The others around him acknowledged him with aloof nods- one older man with impossibly perfect long blond hair, another with the same hair only younger, and a short woman who seemed to bubble happiness. He briefly felt an emptiness, as if there were important people missing from the table, but quickly dismissed it.
"You should talk to my mum, she's great with things like that," the woman said.
A plate appeared in front of Harry. "Here you are, love. Eat up!"
Harry smiled at the black haired woman. "Thanks, Eliza. I swear you're trying to fatten me up." He was caught up in the scene around him, and the name came to his mind unbidden.
Eliza smiled cheekily. "The fastest way to a man's heart…"
"Well you surely found mine," Harry grinned happily before tucking into the meal. Again he was hit with a sense of emptiness and loss, and again he brushed the feeling aside.
"How goes the progress, Bella?"
Bellatrix shivered at the voice. "Well, my lord. The boy's defenses are all gone, and I am quickly breaking his mind. He has a strong attraction to the mudblood, my lord, although he doesn't see it."
"Use it to further your work. Break his mind, and then rebuild it according to my will."
"Yes, my lord."