Title: Figments Forever
Parings: Harry Potter/Voldemort
Warnings: Spoilers, slash, angst, sex scenes (later) and language as well as general evilness (on Voldemort's part)
Summery: Love is the most powerful force on this earth. It seems Dumbledore's constant nagging has finally gotten through- Voldemorts decided to test it. Forced into a relationship he knows it wrong Harry must fight Voldemort, Death Eaters and his own traitorous emotions for, as Voldemort cruelly points out, how can someone be expected to kill the only man they've ever loved?
Authors note: Poor Harry. Is it real? Is any of it real? Will Harry be trapped in a world of figments forever? Only I know and I'm far too evil to tell you. A bit of a spin on the clichéd tale of Harry siding with Voldemort. I decided to try my hand at it. Don't like, don't read. Read and review. Lets start this off with a bang, shall we? Part one of four parts, ready set… go!
Flowing softly through my veins
Pumping through my heart
You're emphasizing all my pains
As though it is an art
You're manipulative and sly
You bind me through and through
Make me fall when I would fly
And all I see is you.
Part One: Erratic Emotions
Harry awoke, feeling disoriented
His first thought was that his throat was burning. His second was that he ached all over. His third was that he was most certainly not at the Dursley's.
It was that last one that was the most unsettling
He reached out blindly with his hands and eventually hit upon a bedside table where (after much searching) he was able to come across his glasses. The room immediately came into focus.
It was almost entirely decorated in green and silver. In fact, the only break from what was obviously the theme was the mahogany bed (which he was currently sprawled upon), the bedside table and the wardrobe. Although it was slightly more reassuring than a dungeon cell Harry did not find the obviously Slytherin theme reassuring. And it was Slytherin- the subtle uses of snakes in the decoration assured Harry of that.
It was a magnificent room- far nicer than anything Harry had stayed in- but Harry could not help but feel apprehensive. The feeling grew quite significantly when he tried the main door and found it locked. It grew even more so when he realized he did not have his wand. He walked back to the bed (which was king-sized and ridiculously large) and threw himself upon it, trying to recall what had happened.
He remembered lying in his bed at the Dursley's and hearing a shout. He remembered grabbing his wand was running downstairs to see what had caused the disturbance. He remembered a shout… a cry?… a spell. Yes, an incantation. Then everything had simply… faded away…
Not at all reassured, Harry supposed there was really only one thing he could do.
A knock came at the door and Harry sat up abruptly as it swung open without awaiting an invitation. The fact that it was Lord Voldemort himself that entered made Harry incredulous that he had knocked at all- and also made him review his situation for the worse.
"Ahh Harry, how lovely to see you again" Voldemort said in what could almost be deemed a pleasant way
"Forgive me if I don't return the sentiment Tom" Harry said, trying to remain calm and enjoying the flicker of annoyance that graced Voldemort's eyes when he uttered his first name.
"Of course" Voldemort said, voice more clipped now
"So, you going to kill me then?" Harry asked warily
"Oh no, not at all. I've devised something much more fun. You see, I know the Prophecy Harry- I'm actually surprised at how easily I could penetrate your mind while you slept. I know almost everything you do, minus a few small details about the order. But no matter, I'll retrieve them eventually. The point, my dear Harry, is that although I'm quite positive I'd best you in a duel I am not willing to take any chances" Voldemort said smoothly
"What the hell are you talking about?" Harry asked bluntly
"Always the impatient one, my Harry" Voldemort purred, almost an endearment, and Harry froze, not liking the direction this was going "Rather than killing you I will force you to join me. Or at least, make it impossible to kill me"
"I'll never join you" Harry spat, forgetting for a moment he was completely unarmed "And no matter what, I will destroy you"
"Could you destroy someone you loved Harry?" Voldemort asked frankly. Harry blinked
"Of course not" He said simply, wondering if, perhaps, Voldemort had taken a hostage in order to secure his obedience
"I have administered you with 'Vendo Diligo'. Do you know what that is Harry?" Voldemort asked
Harry didn't, but he was willing to bargain his entire fortune on the fact that it wasn't a good thing
"It was sometimes used in arranged marriages- in cases where the couple hated each other. Usually each would take the potion but I assure you that I have done no such thing. Basically it means 'Betraying Love' and it forces you to slowly, gradually and, best of all, sincerely, fall in love with the person assigned. Even better, you will find it impossible to harm me without harming yourself. You kill me and you, yourself, will die" Voldemort said, smiling wickedly. Harry stared, horrified at that notion
"Don't be ridiculous" He finally scoffed "I'd never love you"
"You won't have a choice in the matter" Voldemort said simply "You'll fight it, of that I have no doubt, but you will not succeed. You will fall in love with me and when I finally take you as my own it will be with you desperately egging me on."
The words sounded uncomfortably prophetic to Harry and he gulped
"You can't alter destiny" Harry whispered "Love or no love, one of us will die at the hand of the other"
"But Harry, surely you, of all people, realize just how powerful a force love can be" His eyes flickered briefly to his scar before he smiled and left. As the door closed Harry thought two things- one, that Voldemort may have finally learned the value of love and two, that, in a way, he was already dead
Serpentine hands caressed his body slowly, gently, silently worshiping his flesh and Harry shuddered as Goosebumps followed the hands as they trailed downwards. The touch was smooth and slightly calloused, seeming to know exactly where to linger and making Harry writhe helplessly under the unmerciful caress. They brushed his crouch teasingly and an impossible, pleasurable heat engulfed Harry as he moaned. As the hands continued to go downwards Harry was willing to give his entire fortune if it meant those hands would wounder back up. The hands, as though answering his prayers, travelled back upwards- only to dance around Harry's persistent erection. Harry groaned his disappointment and a low voice chuckled, obviously amused by his predicament. The laugh, though it sent wonderful shivers down his spine, sounded oddly familiar to Harry who opened his eyes (when had he closed them?) only to find a pair of glowing red ones staring right back at him.
Harry awoke with a strangled gasp, still feeling the heat from where the invisible hands had roamed his body. Feeling utterly repulsed he had the strong desire to have a shower- as though to wash off the fifth the dream had coated him with. To his utter shame the mere thought of the dream (and the thought of Voldemort doing such things to him) did not cause the disgust he was hoping for but instead created a surge of longing through his veins and caused to make his morning erection more prominent. These facts in itself dispelled such thoughts, as Harry knew then, with absolute certainty, that what Voldemort had promised was indeed coming to pass
The potion was starting to have effect.
It was noon when the knock came at the door. Harry knew, without knowing how, that Voldemort stood on the other side of that door. He was proven right when the door swung open and Voldemort glided in.
He looked as he had always done- not at all desirable physically. And yet, as he drew closer, his entire body seemed to radiate with a wonderful sort of heat. His proximity put his hair on end and made him wait expectantly for something he wasn't sure he could name- or even sincerely want.
"Taken affect yet, my pet?" Voldemort asked, reaching out a hand only to stop it a millimetre from his skin
Harry bristled at such a demeaning endearment and fought the insane urge to tilt his head so that the pale palm of the Dark Lord would brush his flesh.
"Poor Harry" Voldemort taunted "You are mine now. Bought, won and branded."
Harry felt his temper build as well as his irritation
"I hate you," He whispered passionately
"Not for long" Voldemort said simply, a cruel, ironic smirk twisting his lips. He leaned closer and Harry fought the desire to both pull away and move forward to meet him, instead staying perfectly still. Voldemort chuckled and, like his dream, it sent tiny shivers along his back. Voldemort caught the stray thought and smiled
"Dreaming I see. It would make it so much easier if you just gave in" Voldemort said, almost mildly as though resigned that it wasn't going to happen. Harry felt his ire rise and, it a fit of desperation, he lashed out, striking Voldemort harshly on the jaw.
Searing pain assaulted his jaw and Harry felt as though a brick wall had just struck him. He cried out hopelessly, falling backwards onto his bed his right hand going automatically to his jaw only to feel smooth skin. He looked up to see that Voldemort looked not annoyed, or even pained, but amused.
"I did mention you would find it impossible to hurt me Harry" He said, the redness in his jaw indicating the pain for him had been far less "Not without hurting yourself with twice as much force, in any case. You are tied to me now Harry. What I feel, you feel. Luckily for me, it does not work both ways"
Harry scowled, feeling his annoyance rise.
"Stubborn" Voldemort smiled, seeing his defiant expression. He made the word a caress and Harry prided himself on the fact that he failed to react. Perhaps having had his fun, or sensing there was nothing more to gain and his point had been proven, Voldemort gave a wicked smirk and walked from the room as elegantly as he had entered it.
The days passed with agonising slowness and Harry was sure he was going insane.
It was not the room. He was used to being confined to a single room because of the Dursley's and although he found himself inevitably restless he was smart and patient enough to realise Voldemort did not intend to cage him forever.
It was not the food. Harry had only eaten so well when he was at Hogwarts and although his circumstances were certainly affecting his appetite he ate far more than he usually did.
It was not the lack of company. Harry saw no one at all (indeed, even his meals were brought up and taken away but magic) but considering the house was one used to house Death Eaters and Voldemort himself, Harry considered this fact to be more of a blessing than a curse.
No, if it was anything at all it was the potion running through his veins.
It was difficult to ignore the effects during the day (the sensation he was missing a vital appendage, the glowing warmth he experienced when his mind so much as passed the Dark Lord, the dreadful anticipation whenever he thought of another visit and countless other little things) but it was still possible. No, what was impossible to ignore, dismiss or escape were the dreams. Harry was fighting every single aspect of the potion-- and he was losing against every single one.
He was feeling rather at his wits end and so was rather thankful when, five days later, the door just simply, casually, swung smoothly open. At first Harry just stared at it, hardly about to believe that Voldemort would simply open the door and let him out without trying anything- especially without taunting him. Then he caught sight of the note stuck neatly to the back of the door. Hesitating only slightly he picked it neatly off.
I rather think enough time had passed to let you out of your gilded prison. Please feel free to explore the manor at your leisure and I shall warn you only once that any attempts to escape will not prove favourable to your health and will only earn you a vast amount of time locked up somewhere slightly less desirable than your room.
I hope you enjoy your stay at Riddle Manor
Harry scowled at the letter thinking that Voldemort even wrote in a Slytherin manner. It was a little unsettling because when he said escaping would not prove favourable to his health Harry knew he meant 'Try and escape and I'll Crucio you so badly you won't be able to stand for a week'. This meant that Harry wouldn't be as stupid as to try and escape. He scowled at the letter again and made to crunch it up only to pause, suddenly unwilling to destroy something Voldemort had given him. He frowned at the sentimentality but resignedly slipped the note securely into his pocket.
Still, at least he was aloud out of the room.
If anything could be said about the house that Lord Voldemort built it could be summarised in one word: green.
Other words would include: large, spacious, winding, serpent themed and deserted. Either Voldemort and his Death Eaters were in a part of the mansion that was inaccessible to Harry or they had all cleared off for the day. Harry firmly hoped it was the latter.
In any case, although he was sincerely glad to be out of that room the rest of the Manor was just as exciting. Most of the doors led to spare rooms, studies and (every now and then) a plain, unfurnished room that the past owners clearly had no idea what to do with. Harry wondered what the point was of buying such a large house if one had no use for it.
Then he stumbled across the library.
Wall to wall, top to bottom, complete with armchairs, tables, parchments, inkwells, a fireplace and there was even a map on the wall.
Well… at least he wouldn't get behind in his schoolwork.
3 hours later…
Harry lay curled up in an armchair by the fire the book in his hands proclaiming 'How To Spell Your Way Out of Trouble' and his mind fixed firmly on his book.
'Fire is a good distraction- especially just harmless bursts of it which can distract your enemy with a singed robe, burst of light or from the sheer heat. Not to mention that a burning building will be rather more important than whatever trouble you happen to be causing. The best spell for this would be 'Firosa'. To cast grip your wand firmly, concentrate deeply on the vision of fire, swish your wand in a spiral (counter clockwise only) and say the spell firmly'
Harry closed his eyes briefly, imagining he was holding his wand and swished his wrist murmuring 'Firosa' as he did so.
The wood in the fire grate- unlit because of the warm weather- promptly burst into flames. Eyes flying open Harry stared at it in shock, looking at first the flames and then his unmarked hand.
It was dark, the night seeming to seep into is bones and it felt suddenly impossible that he could ever see again. His touch was heightened by this lack of sight and the fingernails trailing gently down his naked body caused him to absolutely purr with desire.
His breathing, which sounded indefinitely loud in the darkness, seemed only outranked by the moans those dexterous hands pulled effortlessly from his mouth like grapes ready for harvest.
His lover (the word sounded foreign and ill-fitting even to his mind) was silent but efficient evidently having much experience and able to bring him on to the edge of madness in very little time at all.
He wanted to beg, he wanted to scream and cry and shout and tear at the alabaster back in order to force the man to do something- anything- to end his torture. His lover chuckled sounding merely amused which irked Harry even further in his frustration and he let out a choked sob as he looked into merciless hot red eyes.
Harry spent every moment he had in the library. He threw himself into learning as many wandless spells as possible and testing his limits. It turned out it took a lot of concentration and at first it was very tiring- he had to slowly build a resistance to it.
Of course, his exhaustion meant he was sleeping longer and considering how vivid his dreams were getting, it was becoming a bit of a problem. Rather than make him reluctant to preform and learn more spells it made him more determined to do so- not only did it get his mind off the dreams but it gave him a small spark of hope that, perhaps, things weren't so bleak.
It was three days later when, as he was reading yet another Defence book, he was interrupted by the smooth cultured voice of Lord Voldemort.
"Defence Against the Dark Arts Harry? That's hardly going to help you now, especially considering the fact that you're completely unarmed"
"It was my favourite subject. Reading it makes me feel slightly normal. Besides, I've hardly anything better to do" Harry said shortly, without looking up. He might be under the thrall of the Dark Lord but the potion did not erode his common sense- and telling his nemesis about his wandless magic was just plain stupid.
"Your in luck then. I'm having a Death Eater meeting tonight and I want you to attend" Voldemort said, with the air of someone inviting him to a wonderful party. Harry turned a page, looked abjectly uninterested
"I'll pass thanks," He said evenly
"You sound as though you have a choice" Voldemort said, sounding amused as always at his stubbornness
"Your not going to drag me to every Death Eater you have- you'll get sick of it after a while- and I'm hardly going to consent to you showing me off to your little servants while you force me to watch as you torture innocent muggles" Harry said, voice perfectly polite.
Voldemort's seemed undeterred
"But I have planned this meeting with you in mind" He said and the words sounded slightly ominous, "I want you to be there, and considering the circumstances I'm positive you would want to go as well"
Harry considered that, dreading that perhaps Voldemort had captured or harmed one of his friends and, if so, if he would be in any position to plead for them. He decided to cut a deal
"I'll go to this meeting" Harry said slowly "If you treat me like a guest, not a pet, and if it is the only one I have to go to"
Voldemort seemed to consider that, obviously debating whether it was worth the effort required to drag him to it regardless. He must have decided that it was not because he finally nodded
"Very well. Someone will fetch for you at six sharp" Voldemort said firmly before turning and gliding gracefully from the room
Harry had the bizarre thought he'd been asked out on a date by the Dark Lord himself…
And agreed to go.
He was still in the library when the clock struck six. It wasn't as if he could 'get ready' for this… whatever the hell it was. He was already cleanly shaved and his hair was a hopeless case right from the start. He did, however, chose another set of clothes from the wardrobe, considering his were becoming unwearable, but that was all. Besides all that, he wanted to send a clear message that Voldemort might be housing him but he controlled absolutely nothing about him. It was as if he was saying that Voldemort was worth so little to him he was quite happy to face him with as little attention to his appearance as possible.
"Master Harry Potter?"
Harry jumped and turned, staring at the figure with shock. When Voldemort had said someone would fetch him Harry had, of course, taken it literally. He had not, however, expected said someone to be a snake"Nagini I presume?"
The snake slithered forward, smelling him delicately as she studied him
"You are Master Tom's consort?" She asked innocently. Harry spluttered indignantly. The snake ignored him
"Follow me" She hissed instead as she tuned. Still feeling rather offended by her remark (consort indeed!) Harry followed rather sullenly.
It seemed that the Death Eaters had indeed cleared off the day Harry had explored the whole manor because Nagini lead him to a large, empty room that Harry had barely glanced at before moving on. Out of all the empty rooms, though, it was the largest (almost a hall) and Harry guessed this was why they used it for meetings. Indeed, the room had many ominous stains Harry had before failed to notice. The room was full of people, all with masks, and Voldemort himself sat at the front of the room, seated in an elegant throne Harry was almost certain had not been there before.
"Ah, Harry, so nice of you to join us" Voldemort said and Harry suddenly had the attention of every Death Eater there
"Hey Tom" Harry said, ignoring the lot of them "Why is Nagini under the impression that I am your consort?"
"Because you are," Voldemort said, as though it were obvious. Harry scowled and made his way to Voldemort's side
"I'd hardly be as presumptuous as that," Harry said bitterly
"We are all but bonded, my Harry" Voldemort purred and Harry wished that his voice didn't make him shiver with desire. It made it a lot harder to remain angry with him.
"Stop that" He shot as he took his place at Voldemort's side, crossing his arms defiantly "I am here at your request only, so behave"
"You got a good deal out of me," Voldemort said, almost ruefully. "It is a fair exchange"
Harry pointedly ignored him
"Stubborn" Voldemort muttered darkly before standing to address the now very curious Death Eaters
"My loyal subjects" Voldemort began and Harry knew right away that this would be bad "First off, no Harry Potter has not joined me and most likely never will, but he can no longer hinder me. Reasons why are not your concern"
Despite himself Harry felt a little better after he had said that. The Death Eaters would have considered him Voldemort's whore, and thereby free torture.
"My second issue is this. I have discovered a spy"
Whispers spread through the crowd like wild fire and Harry suddenly knew, with utter certainty, why he had been called to this meeting
"Unbeknownst to you all I have taken each and every one of you aside individually and told you that I was planning to attack a village the next day. With each of you I would assign a task, wether it be as a distraction or brewing potions" He paused here significantly and Harry suddenly became very nervous. He wondered at Voldemort's dedication- it would have taken months to go through every single Death Eater.
"Severus Snape, please step forward" He said loudly and the crowed rippled like troubled water as the Potions Master stepped forward, appearing to all eyes, apparently unconcerned
"I was most interested when, after I informed you of a supposed attack, the Order were in the area moments after the set time. Have you anything to say in your defence?"
Severus said nothing, but his eyes, glittering cold and full of loathing, said more than words ever could.
"Remove your mask" Voldemort hissed, calm voice suddenly gone. As Severus did so, Harry remembered exactly why Voldemort was the most feared Dark Lord of all time and actually feared for his professor's life.
And Severus Snape, ex-spy, member of the Order of the Phoenix, Potions Master, and all around cold, unmovable bastard, screamed.
Harry had never thought of Severus Snape screaming. It seemed impossible that the formable man be moved by anything, even the Cruciatus. It went on and on and on and Harry felt himself tensing with ever second
When Voldemort finally stopped Harry let out a sigh to see intelligence still sparkling in his professor's eyes. He knew he could do nothing. He could hardly fight his way out when he was surrounded by so many and he was reluctant to reveal his wandless magic when there was no hope of escape.
It wasn't over yet though. They were called Death Eater's for a reason and each and every single one of them cast spells and reigned abuse upon Severus. Eventually he stopped screaming (Harry doubted he could by now) and simply flinched with every curse. Harry was shaking with repressed anger and the effort it was taking to stop himself from simply jumping to his Potion Master's aid. Finally Voldemort called the abuse to a halt and raised his wand.
"No!" Harry cried and pushed Voldemort's wand so that when he completed the curse it hit the wall harmlessly, leaving a black charred mark.
Voldemort turned to him; a fire in his eyes and Harry ditched his pride and pleaded
"Stop it! Please! Don't kill him! I'll do anything!"
Voldemort actually paused at that and racked his eyes up and down Harry's body. Harry suddenly wondered if that were true, but held his resolve firmly as Voldemort thought
"You will attend every Death Eater meeting I call unless I say otherwise and you will sit at my feet like an obedient little pet" Voldemort said and Harry scowled, looking first at Voldemort then at the bloodied Severus Snape.
"I agree, on the condition his injuries be healed and he not be harmed," He said, straining to stop his voice from wavering and deciding that it was a price worth Severus' life. Voldemort nodded
"Take him to the dungeons. Clean and repair his wounds and keep him there. He is not to be harmed" Voldemort commanded and a nameless Death Eater came forward and dragged Severus off.
Harry watched him go with dark, worried eyes.