Harry Potter and the Dark Lord's Heir

By: Tauvia L. Siemens

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the plot of this story – Sadly!!!


Immediately, high pitched screams of anguish erupted as intense pain pierced his body. The hateful curse word and a high cold laughter that was all too familiar resonated in his ears. A shadowy figure approached but he could bear it no more. With a last glimpse of the dark stranger, he slumped in defeat and gave way to unconsciousness…

Harry Potter awoke and sat bolt upright, drenched in sweat. It had been a terrible night so far for Harry had dreamt about the sinister Dark Lord again and now his scar was burning with such ferocity that he was unable to sleep much longer. Harry got up, went over to his wardrobe, and peered at his reflection in the mirror that hung inside. His green eyes and jet black hair were what stood out most – next to his scar in the shape of a lightning bolt. It was also quite visible that he was underfed and kept locked up a lot due to his scrawny appearance.

As Harry took all this in, he was overcome by a sudden urge of anger and hatred for the Dursley's who made him suffer every summer by starving him and keeping him locked up in his bedroom, only to be allowed out to carry through undignifying chores that only a house elf would do. Harry felt anger towards the Dark Lord for reappearing night after night in his dreams and for all the pain and suffering that was bestowed upon everyone he cared about by the evil man, if that's what he even was anymore. Most of all was the anger Harry had brewing for Dumbledore. The senile old man had forced Harry to live with the Dursley's and then kept him in the dark until he was 11. He made Harry return to Private Dr. every summer where he would be beat and treated even worse than the way the Malfoy's had treated Dobby. Harry had done more at his age than many adults ever even hoped to accomplish and yet Dumbledore did not trust Harry with information of the Order's plans!

By this point, Harry was so furious that he didn't hear the sound of about 20 or so witches and wizards apparating in the street below. As Harry turned away from his wardrobe and made to go sit back down on his bed, he came face to face with none other than Lucius Malfoy and Severus Snape. Harry started to reach for his wand but was unsuccessful for Lucius had kept his wand drawn and used it to make thick ropes bind Harry's limbs together in an almost snake-like way.

"We meet again, Potter! You're coming with us!" was Malfoy's only reply as he watched Harry struggle. Malfoy and Snape grabbed Harry roughly by the arms and started to drag him over to the open window. Harry took a quick glance at his clock on the bedside table which showed the time in bright red numbers. It was four o'clock in the morning. Harry's heart skipped a beat as he slowly realized that he had been a legal-aged wizard for four hours already.

At this split moment of realization, Harry's scar burst into pain again and caused him to scream out in agony. With the blink of an eye, Harry could taste a dirty and foul, rotten rag being shoved into his mouth by an equally rotten, greasy-haired git – Professor Snape! Before Harry could even protest, Blondie and The Git shoved him through the window and forced him to look down into the street below. Harry dearly wished he could close his eyes at that moment, but as is the way with fear, he was unable to. As the image of the street began to focus in Harry's eyes, he saw that there were about 20 or so Death Eaters flanking a lone body. With his tall, slim figure and cold, evil red eyes piercing the night, Harry knew exactly who it was.

Lord Voldemort, the darkest wizard since Grindelwald, stood sneering up at his two most faithful Death Eaters and the struggling Harry Potter. With a quick flick of his wand, Voldemort shouted out the last spell Harry would remember.

"Stupify!" And with that, Harry's head slumped on his chest as he became unconscious and his final thought left him - Lord Voldemort had come for him!

When Harry awoke at last, it took him a while to figure out what had happened the night – however long ago it was – that Voldemort had come for him. As the pain in his scar came rushing back, he realized with full force just what had happened.

"We meet again, Potter! You're coming with us!" said Malfoy.

Malfoy and Snape grabbed him roughly by the arms after binding his limbs so he couldn't move and shoved him through the open window. His scar erupted in pain causing him to scream and Snape shoved a dirty old rag into his mouth. With realization dawning in his eyes, he fearfully looked down into the street below and watched helplessly as Lord Voldemort, surrounded by all of his followers, cast the stunning spell and hit his target.

Harry slowly opened his eyes, wondering where he was. He reached for his glasses that were on the nightstand beside his bed and put them on. Now that he could see again, Harry took in his surroundings. There were white-washed walls and a white linoleum floor. His bed sheets were white, too. The room reminded Harry of a hospital room – white, clean, and sterile. The only exception was that there was no window letting in the bright sunlight that was surely outside. The only escape was a lone door in the corner.

At that precise moment, a mediwizard came in and noticed that Harry was awake and attempting to sit up.

"Stay down, Sir. You need your rest. That was one powerful stunning curse that hit you."

"Where am I? How long have I been here?" Harry asked, a little too defensively.

"Relax. You are quite safe here. You have been out cold for about a week now. As to your current location, My Prince, you are in Riddle Manor, the Dark Lord's home."

Harry's ears started ringing. He thought he must've been hit on the head pretty hard for he could've sworn that the mediwizard had just referred to him as "prince".

"What did you just call me?" snapped Harry who was getting to be quite irritable by now.

"Why, I referred to you as 'My Prince', sir. The Dark Lord ordered it to be so. His exact words to the rest of his followers were, and I quote, 'Harry Potter is to be my heir. You are all to treat him the way that you would treat me. If you fail to obey these orders, you will rue the day that you were born. You all know to address me as the Dark Lord, so are you to address young Harry. He is to be referred to as the Dark Prince.' I was only following my orders, Sir."

"Whatever! So when can I get out of bed? If I'm to be stuck here for a while, I want a chance to explore and get to know this place."

"You can get up tomorrow morning. You'll have to go and eat in the Great Hall with my Lord. You are now under his control and I shall probably never see you again after a couple of minutes. I must go now, My Prince. Rest up and you'll be fine by the morning." And with that, the mediwizard took his leave, leaving Harry quite alone and worried.

Harry wanted to get up and run away from this place but he knew better. He knew he could never escape the Dark Lord in his current condition. Besides, his head still hurt and he had remained relatively unharmed so far. Minus a dark lord, and Harry thought he could get use to this kind of life.

While musing over these thoughts and more, a house elf popped into the room so suddenly that Harry almost fell out of the bed.

"I am sorry, Sir, but I am bringing you your supper, Sir," said the elf in an unnaturally high voice.

"That's ok. I just wasn't expecting you, that's all," Harry responded. "Thanks for the food!" he added.

"Young Master is most welcome, Sir," and with that, the house elf disappeared again with a pop.

When Harry finished eating, his tray and dishes vanished, to the kitchens most likely. It was about seven o'clock now and Harry was starting to feel sleepy. As he yawned, the door to his room opened and in stepped the one person Harry wanted to see the least – Voldemort!

Harry tensed, and growled out through gritted teeth, "What do you want?"

"Harry, Harry, Harry. You would do well to learn your place. Crucio!" said the Dark Lord in a rather calm voice.

As Harry started to writhe in agony and pain, refusing to scream or show weakness, Voldemort just stood there and laughed his cruel laugh. After about only 10 seconds or so, which seemed more like an eternity to Harry, Lord Voldemort finally released the curse. Harry continued to pant with the effort of not caving to Voldemort of all people. As he tried to sit up, he realized with nothing short of panic that he couldn't.

"I see you are wondering. I had your dinner spiked with two potions. One of course, was the draught of peace. You probably noticed that you hardly responded upon seeing me enter the room. Normally you would've attempted to attack, not just growl. The other potion was a special type of muscle relaxant that only activates upon having your body hit with a cruciatus curse for at least 10 seconds."

"Whatever! Why are you holding me here?" Harry asked wishing he could be anywhere else but here – wherever here was!

"Ah, ah, ah, Harry! You're already in a tough spot and you wouldn't want it to get any worse now would you?" taunted Voldemort. "If you must know, I'm keeping you here… because I can! I do believe that kidnapping my mortal enemy comes entitled to me what with being an evil dark lord and all. So while I was at it, I started thinking that perhaps there was a way that…"

"Forget it! I'll never join you! Over my dead body! You got that? I'll never be your servant! Ever!" interrupted Harry, shouting while starting to get the jest of things.

"Silencio!" muttered the Dark Lord rather lazily. "Now listen here, Potter! I know about the misery you've been put through. Dumbledore has put you in an abusive home where they work you like a house elf, starve you, and otherwise keep you locked up in your bedroom. He manipulates you and has your friends running to him whenever there appears to be something wrong with you. I took you away from there. Join me, Potter, and you could be great! There is only power and those too weak to see it! I can give you the salvation you crave. All you have to do is take my mark. Become my heir!"

With his speech said and done, the Dark Lord waved his wand and the silencing charm was removed. Harry started attempting to sit up again. He was about to open his mouth and say something but Voldemort decided to interrupt him first.

"And one other thing, Potter. I believe one of my mediwizards has already informed you that you're to be in the Great Hall at nine o'clock sharp for breakfast. Go down the hall and take a left. Continue down the stairs and around the corner. You can't miss it. We will continue this discussion then. You have until breakfast to give me your answer."

And with that, he left. Harry, alone for the time being, was able to finally gather his thoughts. So much had happened already. He started to seriously contemplate Voldemort's offer. What would the wizarding world think of him if he, Harry, were to join the dark side? Well the answer to that was obvious. Harry had had enough. His decision was made. Tomorrow he would confront Lord Voldemort and give his answer. With these thoughts and more in his head, Harry drifted off to sleep.

The next morning dawned or rather, a house elf came to wake Harry at 8:30 and claimed that it was morning already.

"Young master should hurry up and get ready, Sir. You's only a half hour to get dressed, washed, and down to the Great Hall. Older master is already up and waiting for you. Hurry, hurry you should!" said the house elf.

"I'm up! I'm up!" yawned Harry rather sleepily and watched the house elf disappear.

Harry got up and took a shower in his own bathroom. When he returned to his room, he found that one of the house elves had returned to tidy up his room for he noticed that the bed was made and their was a set of clean clothes at the foot of the bed. Harry grabbed the clothes and unfolded them. They were a set of very fashionable wizarding robes. They were long and reached all the way to his ankles, just above the floor. They were pure black and the insides were lined with emerald green silk. There was a light summer cloak that went along with the attire. It too was black with green silk lining and fastened around his neck with clasps in the shape of tiny little snakes. There was no doubt about it – the outfit was expensive!

As much as Harry appreciated the new outfit, he chose not to wear it. He still didn't quite trust Lord Voldemort. Instead, he chose to wear the outfit that he had been found in. He quickly dawned his attire of a pair of blue jeans and a blue t-shirt, both of which were too big for him (he had fallen asleep before he changed and that was how the Death Eaters had found him). Satisfied with his appearance, Harry left the room and continued to find the Great Hall where he was supposed to share breakfast with the evil man who had killed his parents. He found it with out any problems. Once there, he gathered his nerve and went on inside where, as the house elf had mentioned, was Lord Voldemort sitting at one end of a very long table.

Harry noticed the elegance of the room. It had beautifully hung curtains made of fabrics that seemed to glitter and sparkle with liveliness. These were, of course, in the various shades of black, green, and silver. What would you expect from a true Slytherin? The torch braziers were intricately carved with various snake images and were lit with a warm and inviting glow. The flames seemed to dance. There was a single large window on the far wall sitting behind the Dark Lord. All in all, the room appeared to be rather cozy, warm, and inviting.

"I see you found your way all right," said Voldemort, startling Harry. "You're early. I like that! Please. Sit down and join me for a plate of…Let's say…Scrambled eggs and toast?"

Trying to find his voice, Harry hesitantly squeaked out a reply. "Sure!"

"There's no need to be shy Harry. Come and sit in this chair next to mine. I wont hurt you – unless you want me too!"

Harry, not wanting to be crucioed so early in the morning, decided not to argue and sat down in the chair where instructed. The food appeared and they started to eat. For a couple of minutes, there wasn't a sound except the chinking and scraping of forks on plates. As if out of nowhere, the silence was broken by Harry gasping in obvious pain. Immediately, as if by reaction, Harry's hand flew to his head clutching his scar, which was the source of his pain.

"Heh, heh, heh, heh! I thought that might get your attention! Now, have you considered my proposal yet?" asked Voldemort.

"I-I have!" gasped Harry as the pain slowly started to subside.

Lord Voldemort glared at Harry with a look that clearly meant, "I'm waiting!"

Hesitant, Harry decided to continue the conversation. "You-You said you could give me freedom, power, and the ability to be myself, not necessarily what the world wants me to be. All I need to do is take your mark, become a Death Eater, and serve you?"

"Indeed! I can give you what most people only dream of. I can teach you things that they don't teach at that school of yours anymore. Anything you want, I can give to you. As I said, you need only take my mark and you could be a free person – free to do as you please! Just take my mark Harry! Now, I have given you long enough to decide. I hope you thought about possible repercussions! Make your decision now Potter and choose carefully!"

After a few more moments, Harry nervously gave his answer.

"Lord Voldemort? I accept!"