The Eyes of Slytherin.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything except the plot. So don't sue me. All Harry Potter™ characters and settings are the sole intellectual property of JK Rowling, Warner Bros. and various others who all aren't connected to me in any way. No money is being made with this fan fiction and no copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: Harry James Potter was not the only one with Avada Kedavra eyes. The Eyes of Death. The Eyes of Slytherin. A Dark Potter fic, but not in the way you expect.
Chapter Three: How To Save A Life
A Healer walked out from the privet room James Potter lay in complete comatose, with a solemn expression grazing her face and walked over to the trio of sad faces. The Healer sighed as she stared at the two-month old baby boy in the arms of a Lily Potter – this was going to be hard.
"I'm really sorry Mrs Potter, but your husband is showing no improvement. He was hit with a very dark curse, the Ræpio curse. It strips the victim of their magic in a most excruciating way, almost as bad as the Cruciatus curse, maybe worse depending on the caster. It has left him with very little, almost completely depleted magical stores as well as leaving his body unwilling to any charms or potions we try to use. His body isn't able to sustain itself until his magic replenishes itself. I really am very sorry, but unless Mr Potter gets a magical transfusion, he won't make it through the night."
Lily, who had been looking at the floor intently during this conversation, looked up at the Healer, a sliver of hope in her eyes. "I'll do it."
The Healer shook her head. "I'm sorry, but only a extremely powerful wizard would be able to do it. It would kill the average wizard as to give your magic to someone is a very painful and dangerous thing to do. Magic is linked to your life source. In addition to this, the amount of magic needed for Mr Potter is so great that there is no way anyone could give that much. Lastly, if someone could afford to take a chance to do the transfer, then they would have to be either a blood relative or a bonded. Only a blood relative or bonded would be able to donate their magic, as both the magical cores have to be very similar before this would work. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have mentioned it."
Lily broke down and began to cry into Remus' arms as Sirius took hold of baby Harry to stop him crying from all the sounds of crying and sadness. Sirius and Remus both swallowed their tears before attempting to comfort the distraught woman.
The three adults with Harry in their arms, walked slowly over to the room where James was. They silently went inside to be with him. He was laying peacefully on the bed, the only thing to show that he was sick was the dark circles under his eyes and the cold sweat marking his face. Lily sat down in the chair beside his bed and cried onto his chest. As they were grieving for the man they were about to lose, little did they know that their troubles were only going to increase.
Voldemort sat in his throne idly listening to the boring, pointless and catastrophic drabble of Lucius Malfoy. He was supposed to be a loyal and worthy Death Eater, but it seemed that he was no better than the new recruits. No, wait, even they were better than him. Lucius had no class. He was worthless. Well, maybe not worthless. The only thing Voldemort needed him for was his money. After all, an army needed funding.
"Lucius," Drawled Voldemort.
"Yes, my Lord?" asked Lucius, shivering slightly from Voldemort's tone of voice. It was icy and that always meant trouble.
"Why do you persist to fail me?"
"I-I don't know what you mean, my Lord."
"Crucio." Lucius fell onto the floor, and screamed with agony. The fool was annoying him and he wasn't even trying to cause pain. "You know what I mean. Now, leave my sight before I decide to kill you."
Lucius' eyes went wide and he stuttered his apologies and ran from the room. Voldemort chuckled and called for Bellatrix – his worthy servant.
"You summoned me, my Lord?" Asked Bellatrix as she bowed deeply in front of him.
"Yes, yes I did." He stood from his throne and told the two guards standing at the door to leave. They bowed and did exactly that. "Bella, I want you to accompany me tonight. A scout of sorts as I will… 'gone', lets say, for a few moments. "
Bellatrix bowed deeply once more. "I would be honoured, my Lord."
"Excellent. I shall meet you in the entrance at precisely Midnight."
Voldemort left and stalked down the stairs to the dungeons, smirking. He loved All Hallows Eve.
Voldemort entered his own private potions lab and took six vials down from a shelf with a flick of his wrist. He also gathered a Ritual knife, made of silver, carved with the ruins he created when he performed his first ritual and a portion of Re'em flesh to counteract the taste of the potion he had been brewing for the past three months. The potion was James Potter's choice to live or die. The potion was going to make James Potter forever his. It was going to make him his heir, merging the Slytherin and Gryffindor bloodlines into one boy. The three months old, Harry James Potter would become the most powerful wizard alive if this succeeded. And he was also the Prophesized Child, and having him on the Dark side would be anything but disastrous.
Bonding himself to James Potter would alter his genetic system, merging the bloodlines into one, and by doing that, he was changing the child's system as well. Potter's magic would change, and at the same time, change his son's magic as well.
Checking the Grandfather Clock in the corner of the room, Voldemort realised it was time to add the final ingredient – A pint of his blood. Voldemort took the knife and traced the knife down a vein, letting the crimson liquid ooze out and spill into the cauldron. Voldemort smirked. He loved blood. The colour. The smell. The taste. Sometimes he thought he might be a vampire, if it wasn't for the fact that he didn't bite people for it.
The potion turned a dark green, before changing into its final colour of deep red. Voldemort waved his wand over the cauldron to stop any of the potion from escaping before shrinking it and placing it within his robes. He then did the same with the knife and vials before setting off towards the main entrance, where he found Bellatrix waiting for him. The clock struck midnight and Voldemort apparated them away.
Lily sat in the chair next to James's bed asleep, her head resting on his chest, her face tear stained. Baby Harry lay awake, staring at the ceiling, his emerald eyes deep in concentration. Even though he was just a few months old, he could pick up things really quickly. He knew something bad has happened.
A flicker of light caught Harry's attention and looked at the doorway to see two figures enclosed in shadow. One was slightly taller than the other and had a hood up. The smaller had long hair and you could see that she was a woman - a very curvaceous woman at that. The taller, a man, had piercing red eyes, glinting from under the hood. There was a soft cackle from the man and they both moved forwards towards the bed. The man took out a stick and aimed it at Lily, sending a jet of red light into her back. They were right over James's bed now, the man staring menacingly at Harry, as if waiting for something to happen. He finally turned to the woman and began to speak.
"Bella" He hissed "Make sure nobody comes. If you hear anybody approaching, stun them only. We do not want our presence to be known here. If they see you, obliviate them and send them back to where they were coming from. In no circumstances are you meant to wake me."
"As you wish, my Lord." Bellatrix turned to begin her duty. She would not fail her lord.
Voldemort turned to James before placing numbing charm over him and taking a pint of his blood. The baby looked at the Dark Lord with curiosity in his piercing green eyes. They were the colour of Death, and it freaked Voldemort out. This boy was going to be the death of him – literally – but until that day, he was invincible – he needed to do this. He let the blood trickle into one of the empty vials. Voldemort then took out the cauldron and added the elder Potter's blood sample to the mixture, changing it to a deeper than it was already red. The Dark Lord transfigured the two vials into goblets and filled them to the top, before placing both of them on the bedside table next to James.
Voldemort then prepared himself and forcefully opened James's eyes for a moment before diving into his mind. What Voldemort was doing was a type of possession merged with a branch of Legillimency to go into someone's mind and talk to their mind.
He looked around for a moment before finding the form of James. The Dark Lord approached James and conjured two comfy-looking arm chairs for them to sit on. He motioned for the younger man to sit and took a seat himself. James motioned for Voldemort to speak first.
"Seven days ago I gave you an offer. I trust that, with all the free time you have had, you've been thinking about it."
James sighed, but nodded nevertheless.
"And? What is your answer?"
"I… N… Yes… I'll join you…" Answered James, if a bit reluctantly. It seemed like the only way. He was saving his family from a life of war. "Only if you promise me that my family will be safe and my magic restored." James's mental form was on the brink of tears, but held them in. He didn't want to join the Dark Lord, but it was the only way.
Voldemort nodded. "You drive a hard bargain, James, but I will agree to that…"
"Swear it." James interrupted. "Swear it on your magic."
"Very well. I, Lord Voldemort, Do Hereby Swear on my Magic, That I will keep my end of the Arrangement. Do we have an agreement?"
James sighed and nodded once more.
"Good. Your magic shall return to you within the hour, but it will be weak from lack of use. Train. Use your magic constantly until you get it back to its full power. I shall see you in Diagon Ally exactly four weeks from now to take you for your Mark. Do not fail me, James, it could be disastrous. But before I leave, I must tell you that you will be taking a potion to allow the magical transfusion."
James nodded. He'd expected something like that, though he did not have an extensive knowledge of potions.
The Dark Lord pulled out of James's mind and sighed – that took a lot out of him. Luckily, he always kept a Pepper-Up potion with him for things that tired him magically. Taking a quick swig of the potion, he got to work. Grabbing the first of the goblets, he opened James's mouth and tipped it down, stroking his throat to make the concoction flow and set to work.
The body of the young man in front of him began to spasm and shudder. It was a painful process, but it had to happen. Merging the Gryffindor and Slytherin bloodlines would be a huge feat and having the 'Chosen One' on one's side could only mean good things. He was making the Light's saviour to be, the Dark's most powerful ally. This needed to happen. The outcome of the war depended on this moment. Voldemort knew that James would become more drawn to the Dark side with time - he just needed to make sure that James kept using the Unforgivables.
Voldemort drank the other goblet of the potion and also began spasming. The Dark Lord had to bite his tongue to stop himself from screaming, the pain was that intense. It was worse than the Cruciatus Curse, much worse, which Voldemort had not felt since the days he was apprenticed under Grindelwald.
Keeping in the scream, Voldemort took his wand and waved it above James's head, creating a scroll above. He grabbed hold of the scroll and watched as names began writing themselves. The aged wizard saw James's name second from the bottom of the sheet and below him was Harry. Voldemort's eyes flicked along the line connecting James to Lily, and then to the on that connected him to his parents. It was then that Voldemort caught a line being drawn and a third name being written next the parents of this particular Potter. Voldemort smiled when he read the name.
Tom Marvolo Riddle.
Voldemort quickly added the third sample of blood to the caldron and poured a third goblet full, before tipping the contents into the baby's mouth, bit by bit until it was completely gone. Harry squirmed a bit before closing his eyes and falling asleep. The Dark Lord quickly did the same charm over Harry and smirked again. A second line began to draw itself in a deep red line, instead of the regular gold for blood and silver for marriage, towards, once again, Tom Marvolo Riddle.
Voldemort smirked. It was done. Now for the final procedure. Voldemort began to draw runes on James's torso and head with his wand and began chanting in an old and forgotten tongue. The runes began to change from the black it was drawn in, to a baby blue, to a startling green, and finally resting on a blood red and rise off of James's body as the unconscious Auror rose a few feet in the air. The runes started to orbit James, seemingly going in a random way, but to Voldemort, they were writing words in the air. Magic filled the air around them, almost suffocating them as Voldemort took hold of the knife and drew a shallow pentagram on the palm of James's left hand, only light enough to collect a small amount of blood. Voldemort then did the same to his right hand and clasped both his hand and James's together.
The chanting ceased, only to be replaced by a single line. "Blóð til Blóð, Sál til Sál , ÉG gefa þú minn kjarni , svo þessi þinn geta vera skila aftur!"
The runes launched towards James and began to burn themselves into his untarnished flesh, leaving behind a small blister which burnt itself away instantly. The Auror captain was lain back down on his back and the most feared Dark Lord the world had ever saw walked over to Bellatrix, who was currently sitting in the corner of the hospital, her fierce, pit less black eyes locked onto Voldemort as he came closer. He nodded and put his hand on Bella's shoulder, disapparating back to his Keep.
End of Chapter Three.