The Calm: Chapter Three
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Warnings: This fic will be HarryxVoldemort. Dark!Harry. Gore maybe. Cursing (both types of cursing). Eventual HarryxVoldemort smut.
When Harry returned to the bedroom, there was no trace of the Dark Lord. The bedroom of Voldie was surprisingly plush and not at all like the dungeon Harry had imagined. The floors are a white marble, and everything in the room is either white or gold. What is with the Dark Lord and the color white? Harry walks over the very soft white rug on the floor and it reminds him of that ridiculously expensive sweater Aunt Petunia had.
He sits down on the edge of the bed and he can't help thinking how weird everything is. How he fell through the Veil. How we didn't die. How Sirius did die. How his magic is sentient. How his magic complements the Dark Lord's. How he is on the Dark Lord's bed and he is not freaking out. He lets out a sigh and falls back onto the bed.
Harry feels annoyed that his feet cannot reach the floor. He snorts because there are more important things to be upset at but it's his height that annoys him the most.
Will he ever see Hermione again? Or Ron? Are they worried? Do they care? Does Harry even care?
Harry only feels remorse about Hermione, she was his first true friend. She liked him for who he was, not because of his name, fame, or money. Would she join him on the dark side? Would Voldemort even let her?
"Worry not for her, she will make her own decisions. She is not yours to take or persuade. Worry for the one with the veil of white clinging to his skin." Harry forgot his magic could talk to him, and he startles for a second.
"Who? Voldie?" Harry closes his eyes and whispers to his magic.
"HE is the one for us, child. He will protect us. He will complete us. You will help him achieve his goals, it is meant to be. He is ours."
"Ours? I hardly know him, I embarrassed myself in front of him. Oh did I mention he murdered my parents?"
"You are being irrational, you did not even know your parents. If anything be mad at the unstable witch who murdered your godfather," his magic retorts.
Harry's eyes widened, of course! He completely forgot about Bellatrix. Instead of feeling a wave of grief, as he expected, he just feels a cold calm settle over him: he will destroy her.
"That's it, child," his magic is hissing, thrumming, excited, "let's use our power to obliterate her. You have not experienced how great I am, it is time. She is in this house, I can lead you to her," his magic murmurs.
And wouldn't that be great? If Harry could just rid of the witch who destroyed his already sad life so suddenly? But she awoke him. She caused for Harry and his magic to reawaken.
"If you want to give her a gift of gratitude, we can show her how strong we are before we kill her. We can hurt her," Harry feels his magic cocoon him, "just tell me when."
"Now." Harry knows that if he doesn't do it now, he will never do it.
His magic vibrates on his skin and then sinks into him. Harry opens his eyes, gets up off the bed, and walks to the door. He looks at the doorknob, and the door opens by itself.
Voldemort sits at the head of his meeting table. His most loyal followers staring at him, waiting. He feels something nudging him in his brain.
"Your bedmate is out of your bedroom." At times like these, Voldemort wishes that he was not powerful enough to hear or speak to his errant magic.
Said errant magic giggles in his head, "Now, now. I can be exceptionally cruel and mention how you yearn for your bedmate, but I am not cruel, therefore I will not mention it."
Voldemort inhales slowly, then sighs.
"Master? Is something the matter?" his dear Bella looks at him with wide eyes. So innocent. So monstrous.
"Nothing at all. I have exceptional news." Voldemort sees every single one of his inner circle lean in, their breaths catching.
"We have found Harry Potter. We have Harry Potter."
Then a cheer.
Soon, everyone besides Voldemort is cheering or laughing. The war has been dragged long enough, surely with Harry Potter held captive for their side will give them an advantage.
Everyone is celebrating so loud that no one notices the presence that slips in. But then. Then, the room's temperature drops drastically. Everyone stops celebrating. They see ice forming on the edges of the room, on the table, and on the ceiling. Their breath is visible. Their fingertips are turning blue.
Voldemort moves his throne backwards and sits comfortably on his chair, his hands folded on his lap, he knows that it is his… bedmate.
"Thank you for joining us, Harry Potter. My followers here were just celebrating in your name. Do come out and introduce yourself," Voldemort speaks to the especially ominous looking corner. A figure materializes and Voldemort's breath hitches. The boy grew up nicely.
"I am Harry Potter. Nice to meet you.," Harry looks around and meets every Death Eater's eyes, besides the Dark Lord himself. Harry's face is cheery and his grin wide. "Everyone sit or you die," Harry says this in the most casual way that it terrifies Voldemort's most feared inner circle. Everyone quickly sits, not minding the way that the cushions on their seats are hardened. As soon as they sit, their lower body becomes encased in ice, ensuring that they cannot move. The Death Eaters all cry out in distress.
Voldemort looks to Harry and sees that Harry is staring right at him, his green green green eyes blazing, his face determined and not at all the false happiness from before.
"I will join you. I will help you. I will be anything you need me to be. Just give me one of your Death Eater's and I promise to follow you to the ends of the world," Harry walks to the sitting Dark Lord. He kneels before the Dark Lord, who is definitely shocked, he leans forward and brushes his lips over the Dark Lord's knuckles. "So, do we have a deal?" Harry murmurs and looks up at the Dark Lord, mouth still near Voldemort's hands.
"Oh, he is good! He is so much more interesting than we thought. I wanna feel him." Without permission, Voldemort's magic pulses out through his hands and holds Harry's face. Harry closes his eyes and lets out a tiny sigh. Voldemort is so enraptured by this sight that when Bellatrix starts screeching, Voldemort's heart threatens to stop.
"Let me out NOW, you brat! How DARE you touch my master! I will end you like I ended your worthless godfather, YOU SHOULD HAVE STAYED DEAD," Bellatrix shrieks.
Harry opens his eyes, and they are so so so cold. He lets out another sigh. He looks up to Voldemort and murmurs, "So what will it be, my lord? May I be yours?"
And honestly, who could say no to the boy with the sweet pink lips and beautiful eyes?
Voldemort strokes the boy's face and runs his hands through his hair. "Do as you please, Harry Potter."
The way Harry smiles and how his eyes flash is highly concerning, but highly erotic. Harry kisses Voldemort's wrist and stands.
He turns toward Bellatrix who is outraged and shocked that her Lord would allow the boy to be a part of their ranks, he could have simply been locked in a dungeon!
"Bellatrix, or should I call you Bella? It seems better that way, death is familiar with all of his friends, after all." Bella's chair, and all of the ice on it, is moved away from the table. Everyone watches in fascination, and unease, as the boy stands in front of Bella as she snarls at him.
"Release me, at once. I promise I will give you, ickle baby Harry, at least a chance to fight against me, unlike your mudblood loving Godfather. What do you say, my lovely?" Bella cackled as she saw that Harry's eyes dilated.
"Love, we can assert our dominance by having a fair duel with her and destroying her. Or we can completely obliterate her and strike fear in the puny dark wizards and admiration in the eyes of ours."
"I think I want to completely destroy her, she doesn't deserve to have any control after what she did to Sirius," Harry thought in his head to his magic.
"Okay! Great! Ready?"
The room was suddenly filled with a bright green light, so bright that everyone but Harry had to close their eyes. The green light died down and soon after, Voldemort and his Death Eaters opened their eyes to find a naked Harry Potter. His pale skin illuminated and his eyes so alive and vivid that it almost hurt to look at them. No one said a word, not until…