The Calm: Chapter One

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Warnings: This fic will be Harry x Voldemort. Dark!Harry. Gore maybe. Cursing (both types of cursing).

A/N: Hello, I edited the chapter and added more to it. Perhaps you will like to reread it because I added more things to hopefully make sense. Also, it is canon-complacent up until Sirius falls in the Veil.


He floated in and out of consciousness. He drifted in a plain of light grey. Everything he saw was grey, like a soft cloud. He closes his eyes and hopes it will all end soon. Soon. Soon. He can't feel anything. Where is his body? He tries to look down at himself but he just sees the cloud.

He doesn't know how long he has been in this abysmal sea. Seconds? Minutes? Hours? Maybe even years? All he remembers is the green green green light. Hadn't he seen that green light before? He mentally shrugs, it doesn't matter anymore. Nothing matters here.

When he opens his eyes, there is a change. A change so drastic he almost has a panic attack, his surroundings are darker. This grey feels like an angry cloud. A storm. It reminds him of a storm. He closes his eyes. Storms pass.

He doesn't open his eyes again for a long time, he doesn't want to face what he knows is out there. Before, when he would close his eyes, he could still see light filtering through, now he cannot see anything besides the back of his eyelids, which is nothing. He peeks open one eye, and he swears the darkness got deeper. Everything, everything is dark. There is no light.

He snorts, maybe now he fits in. Everything had spiraled into shit after - no, it does not do well to dwell on the past. And anyway, he can get used to the dark, easier to sleep in. He closes his eyes and lulls into a deep sleep.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

"You said you would find him TWO YEARS AGO! WHERE IS HE? WE NEED HIM. I NEED HIM."

"'Mione, calm down. Please, you are not the only one having a hard time dealing with this." A gruff, broken voice murmurs, seated at her side.

Hermione takes a deep breath and sits back down on the chair that feels too comfortable for how serious the topic is. Dumbledore sits across from Ron and Hermione, his hands placed on the desk, looking serene yet lacking his usual twinkle. Fawkes croons from her perch, sounding as melancholy as her owner is feeling.

"Professor Dumbledore, where is he? There is absolutely no trace of him. How do we know he is not dead? After Sirius fell through the Veil, Harry followed him in. You said he was not dead. You said. But he fell through the Veil. No one survives the Veil." Hermione sat on the edge of her seat, looking tired and resigned but also anxious. Her best friend was gone, how anyone would be able to manage is beyond her. Her dull hair, dark eyes, and frailty all indicate just how well she is coming to terms with the situation.

"My dear, I wholeheartedly believe that Harry Potter is alive, we all saw how his magic surrounded him before he fell in." Dumbledore looks contemplative for a second and continues on, "I believe that his extraordinary magic protected him; however, I do not know where he is. We still have the entire Order searching for a way to get him out of the Veil. He will be found. He is our last hope for this accursed war." Dumbledore stood and went to pet Fawkes who tried to nip his finger for making it about the war. "It is only a matter of time, I believe."

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

He felt something prodding him on his sides. He groans. It stops for a bit but comes back, and much more persistent. He snaps open his eyes to the now familiar dark.

"You must go now. You're not meant to be here. Go." He heard a voice coming from everywhere, surrounding him.

"Who are you?" His voice is rough, it hurts. How long has it been?

"I am you. Well, I am a great part of you - your magic. We've turned Dark, darling. Well not so much as "turned" but our nature was always dark. I protected you from the Veil, it would not serve me well if you died and I was absorbed into it. Find your place. You're no longer welcomed amongst the Light because of how we are. Go to the Dark. Find the Dark Lord, show him your magic. He will take care of you like none of your friends could. He will appreciate us."

"That's swell and all but how do I even get out of here?" Harry didn't really think that Voldemort would take care of him but it sure beat being in this prison. Beggars can't be choosers and all that crap.

"Wake up, Harry. Wake us up. We'll be great. Well, I am already great. I am unsure of you."

"You know, for being a part of me, you're not very nice."

"Just wake up, child."

He snorted and thought that surely it would not be so easy as just waking up, that would be ridiculous. He opened his eyes, everything was still dark? He closed them and opened them again. Darkness. He closes his eyes and sighs, and then he feels something, jabbing into his jugular. Hard. Real.

"Who are you and why are you in my bed chambers?" A voice hisses, breath tickling his ear.

His eyes fly open and he is staring into red red red eyes. He gulps, because surely there is only one person he knows who has eyes that red. Red eyes that seem to have widened.

He promptly fainted.

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