I do not own anything Harry Potter and I'm not making any money here either.
Summary: Harry snaps and his screams can be quite deadly. This fiction will contain slash, language, and violence.
But nothing's greater than the rush
That comes with your embrace
And in this world of loneliness I see your face
Ginny was holding her breath. She couldn't move. Her body was rigid and frozen with fear.
A monster was walking down the marble steps, heading right towards her with ghostly grace. The demonic beauty was dressed in luminous white flesh, adorned with hissing black snakes for glossy hair and vibrant emerald eyes.
"Hi, Ginny," the fallen god smiled with dewy red lips. "How're you?"
She blinked her frightened eyes, seeing that it was Harry who was standing before her. This was the third time this has happened to her.
"Hi," she managed to say, taking a quick breath. "I'm good, Harry."
He smiled with perfect white teeth. She nearly gasped when she blinked again. His teeth looked as if they belonged in a shark's gaping mouth. They were jagged and deadly looking. She could suddenly see him tearing out someone's throat with those things.
"Ginny?" He asked in concern, reaching for her. "Are you okay? You look really pale."
She jumped back from him with a slight yelp. His hands weren't human. They were deadly talons and they were dripping with fresh blood.
"I have to pee," she quickly lied, turning from him with a hurried step.
She felt sick. What was happening? Why was she seeing this? Was she going crazy? She didn't know anybody in her family who had the crazies.
She shook her head. Perhaps she just needed some more sleep. That had to be the answer. There was no reason for her to be seeing Harry like the way she was. It didn't make any sense. Why would Harry look like that?
She walked into the bathroom, letting the door close behind her.
Harry blinked his eyes several times, just standing where Ginny had left him. What in the world had that been about? She had looked scared to death for some reason. What was up with that?
"Harry?" A voice asked from behind him.
It was Ron.
"Hey," he said, smiling at him. "Your sister just ran away from me for some reason."
Ron cocked his head to the side. "Huh? Why?" He looked so confused. It was so endearing.
Harry shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. She said something about needing to pee."
"Perhaps she just needed to pee," Ron said, looking this way and that with shifty eyes.
"Are you expecting someone to jump out at you?" Harry asked him, wondering why his eyes were roaming all over the halls.
"Victor scared me yesterday," he said, looking at him with a serious face. "He jumped out from behind a suit of armor and nearly gave me a heart attack."
Harry chuckled. He could see it in his mind. "What did you do?"
"I punched him!" Ron snapped rather angrily. "I punched him real good because I couldn't get at my wand."
Harry shook his head. He could see that, too. He could see Ron jump back with a shriek, holding a hand over his heart, struggling to get back the breath that had ran the hell away from him. He could also see Krum pointing and laughing at him while Ron decked him a good one from out of nowhere.
"I'm sorry I missed that," Harry said, turning the corner with him. "How are things with Krum?"
Ron smiled from ear to ear. His pale, freckly face seemed to glow from the inside out. He looked so very happy.
"I don't know how to really describe it," the redhead said, adjusting the pack he had draped over his shoulder. "I just get all happy when I'm done punching his lights out."
Harry snorted. "That is so romantic."
Ron blushed like a cherry blossom. "Do you really think so?"
Harry started to laugh at him. "It really is. Are you going to see him later?"
Ron nodded. "He's really nervous about the final task. It is coming up really soon, too."
Harry fought to keep from frowning. The third task was the last thing he wanted to talk about. He was scared to death. He had such a terrible feeling. His dreams were becoming even scarier and more disturbing.
"Are you nervous?" Ron asked him, suddenly stopping. "I'm sorry. Of course you're nervous. How could you not be?"
Harry managed a warm enough smile to show him that he wasn't upset. "I'm always nervous, Ron."
The redhead grinned. "You really, really are. You should drink some of that tea Hermione gave to Neville. It is supposed to calm nerves and aid in sleeping."
"Really?" Harry asked, cocking a brow.
"That's what one of those books she reads said," he told him.
"Hmm," Harry said, walking into the Great Hall with him. "I'll have to look into that."
Ron draped an arm around him. "How are things with Cedric?"
Harry beamed. "He's the best."
"Would you like to compare notes?" Ron asked him.
"Oh," Harry said, taking his usual seat. "That sounds like fun."
"Victor snores," Ron told him.
"Oh, that's nothing," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "Cedric is obsessed with colorful socks."
Ron blinked. "Victor secretly collects hats."
"What kind of hats?" Harry asked him.
"Strange hats, Harry," Ron told him in a very grave voice. "The boy collects very, very strange hats."
"Is it old lady hats?" Harry asked.
Ron's jaw dropped. "How did you know?"
Harry tapped his left temple. "I know things."
"What are the two of you talking about?" Hermione asked, walking up to take a seat across from them.
"Boys," Harry told her.
Ron nodded. "Nasty boys."
Hermione lowered her head, shaking it. "Do I even want to know?"
Harry looked at Ron and then back at her. "Well…"
"Never mind," she said, holding up her hand, stopping him. "I need your opinion on something."
"What?" He asked, wondering.
"I got Ginny and Neville a present," she told the two of them.
"And they just so happen to be books," Ron said, taking a bite out of a roll. "Am I right?"
Hermione narrowed her eyes to slits. "Yes."
"And you just so happened to get Ginny a book on exorcisms," Ron said, picking up a chicken leg. "And you got Neville a lovely recipe book."
Harry had to look away. Now that was just wrong. He didn't even know where to start.
"No," Hermione said, eyeing a bowl of creamy potatoes. "Do you think I should?"
Ron nodded his head while Harry told her no. That caused her to laugh.
"I got Ginny a romance book," she said. "And I got Neville a book on rare and extinct plants."
"Perfect," Harry told her. "I'm sure the two of them will love them."
"Do you think so?" She asked.
Ron shook his head and Harry said yes. That caused her to laugh again.
Harry listened to his two friends talk and plan out the rest of their day. He had all of his homework done, so he was bored. He had nothing to do.
He looked around the Great Hall. He didn't see Cedric. He must be busy with Prefect duties and whatnot.
"What do you think, Harry?" Ron asked, bringing him out of his distant thoughts.
He blinked, looking at the redhead. "I was gone," he said, smiling apologetically. "What were we talking about?"
Ron sighed, poking him with his index finger. "I was talking about the guy I'm dating, Harry."
"Oh," he said, rubbing where Ron had just poked him. "What about Krum?"
"Well," Ron said, holding up a little piece of parchment. "Victor invited me to take a tour of the ship."
Harry's green eyes lit up. "Are you for real?"
Ron nodded. "Should I do it?"
"I would love to take a tour of that ship," Harry told him. "I'd do it."
"There is a catch," Hermione said.
"Oh?" Harry asked. "What?"
"He has to sneak me aboard," Ron told him.
Harry suddenly knew where this was going. Oh, he loved his friends.
"Yes," he said, rolling his eyes with a mock sigh of sufferance. "You may borrow my father's precious cloak in order to have your little romantic rendezvous on your boyfriend's ship of dreams."
Ron's grin took up his whole face. "You don't care?"
Harry waved the question away. "Just bring me back a present."
"Do you have protection?" Hermione asked him. "Your father and I don't want you having any mishaps."
Harry nodded his head. "No son of mine is gonna get knocked up by some world famous Quidditch star."
Ron snarled and Harry ducked away from the fiery onslaught of flailing limbs. Hermione really should stop laughing and save him.
How far are you willing to go in order to keep the one you love with you always, Harry James Potter?
Harry sat up in the tub, splashing warm water out into the floor. He looked around the bathroom with frightened eyes.
It had been the same dream again. He drew his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them, resting his chin.
Why was this woman haunting his dreams? Why was he even dreaming this? Was something bad going to happen?
You will become like me, Harry James Potter.
Something bad was going to happen. He just knew it. Something terrible was going to happen to Cedric. He was going to lose him.
He could see himself kneeling before that fresh grave, clawing at the dirt, screaming in agony.
He began to panic. Something wicked this way comes.
Cedric was going to die.
He quickly jumped out of the tub, drying off. He needed to go speak with Dumbledore right now. He and Cedric were quitting. He didn't care what it was he had to do. The two of them were not going through with the third task. He didn't care if he had to tie Cedric down or knock him out with a baby mandrake.
Lost in the darkness, hoping for a sign
Instead there is only silence
Can't you hear my screams?
Harry floated within a storm of his own dark designs. Black silk whispered and slithered across his luminous white flesh like smoke from a great fire. He cackled to himself as he filled the golden chalice with Lord Voldemort's blood. He now had almost everything he needed in order to get his Cedric back.
"Poor little Potter," a lifeless voice hissed from busted lips with pure scorn. "Do you honestly think you can bring that boy back?"
Harry chose to ignore the little snake in his venomous garden of hate. He had a plan. It would not fail. He wouldn't allow it to fail. He would scream death at any who dared to stand in his way of getting his Cedric back.
"Do you really think you're on the same level as me, Potter?" The slimy serpent asked him from behind. "You're nothing but a frightened little boy who can't function without having an arm to hold onto for support."
Harry bit his bottom lip. He was not going to scream again. He wasn't going to give the bastard the comfort of unconsciousness.
"He's dead, Harry," Voldemort chuckled. "Your handsome lover is dead and rotting all alone in the cold earth. The bugs make love to him now, crawling through his orifices. Did he ever take you, Harry? Did he ever stick it in you? Did it feel good?"
Harry spun around like a destructive whip. He backhanded the bastard across the face with an echoing slap, grabbing him by the throat, squeezing like a constrictor.
"Tell me," he seethed, smiling like a nightmare in a little child's terror-filled face. "If I were to twist off your head, will it grow back?"
The snake couldn't answer him, but it was okay. He really just wanted to hear his voice right now. He was the one with the power and the glory. All would bow to him either on their knees or dead on their faces. He didn't give a fuck which.
"Well?" He asked, squeezing tighter with his milky white hand. "Why don't you tell me or shall I just experiment anyway?"
He licked the blood from where he had struck him, cackling as he savored the salty goodness. There was nothing like feasting on the blood of evil. It gave him such a high.
"Summon your little Deatheaters for me," Harry cooed, releasing his hold on him. "I would very much like to suck on their hearts and jump-rope with their large intestines."
"Let me go, Harry," Voldemort wheezed for air. "And I might make your prison more comfortable."
Harry suddenly commanded the Shrieking Shack to be silent. All was still and quiet. Nothing moved, not even the air.
He got right in the Dark Lord's face, looking deep within those ruby red eyes. They reminded him of a burning furnace. He wanted to extinguish it.
He stabbed his right index talon into Voldemort's chest, giving it a good twirl around. The Dark Lord was biting his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. He refused to make a sound.
"Am I scaring you now?" Harry whispered against his ear, pulling his talon free, licking the gore from it with a devil red tongue.
Voldemort glared at him with fury. "You're only sealing your doom, Potter."
Harry watched how the wounds were healing themselves, but it was a bit slow compared to his own miraculous healing abilities. A dragon had scorched his beautiful face off, and it had grown back in mere seconds.
"When I get free," Voldemort threatened, rattling his chains. "I'm going to make you suffer dearly for this, Potter."
Harry narrowed his eyes. "Suffer?"
He snapped Voldemort's chains, lifting him off his booted feet by his neck.
"I'LL SHOW YOU SUFFER!" He shrieked, hurling him across the room, watching him crash into the fireplace. "LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT SUFFERING!"
He stomped his foot, making the whole shack quake with his rage. He blinked his eyes and was suddenly very calm.
"Just what do you think you're doing over there, Tom?" He asked, cocking his head to the side, turning to look at the shredded chains before him. "How dare you go and make a mess of you chains like this."
He turned around, seeing Voldemort stumbling to his feet.
"Why do you defy me?" Harry asked, stalking towards with him with spooky grace and speed, stopping just a few feet away. "Get back over here right this instant, Tom."
"You're weak, Harry," Voldemort said, grinning at him. His busted lips were healed, and his facial bruising was fading. "You let your emotions rule you."
"GET OVER HERE, GODDAMN IT!" Harry screamed, scorching him with his deadly voice. "DON'T MAKE ME HAVE TO TELL YOU AGAIN!"
"You really should calm down, Harry," Voldemort advised, making his rage grow. "Your screaming is not healthy for the chalice."
That caught his attention like a net catches a fanged butterfly. What the hell was he talking about? He was bluffing. But, what if he wasn't bluffing? What if his screams ruined the chalice?
"I'm going to make you pay for what you did to Cedric," Harry told him. "Now, kindly come back over here so I can pluck out your eyes and smash them under my heels."
Voldemort stood up straight, pulling his dark robes around him. Harry remembered how handsome his shadow had been down in the Chamber of Secrets. He was a disgusting creature of slime now.
"You've really upset me, Harry," Voldemort told him. "I'm not happy with you at all."
Harry floated up off his feet. His long hair slithered and coiled along with his black silks. The shadows all around him seemed to take shape.
"I control the dead, Tom," Harry told him. "Do you honestly think this shack will let you leave without my say so?"
"Harry, Harry, Harry," Voldemort said, shaking his head.
Harry's gemstone eyes widened. The slimy bastard pulled a second wand from his robes.
"Little boys should be more cautious when taking dangerous hostages," the Dark Lord said, glaring at him with a deep anger. "We never play by the rules."
"DON'T!" Harry screamed when Voldemort pointed his wand at the chalice on the table across from him and was instantly standing in front of it.
The beam of twisted light struck him right in chest, sending him to his knees, gasping for breath.
"Scream, Harry," Voldemort chuckled darkly. "Scream all you want to, little boy. Let your nightmare play before your very eyes for me to enjoy."
Harry snarled with rage, rising to his feet. He was going to make that slimy little bitch lick the dust from his heels.
He looked around the room, finding it to be empty. Where the fuck was he?
"TOM!" He screamed. "YOU CAN'T ESCAPE ME!"
Harry froze as still as a perfectly carved alabaster statue. His green eyes widened. Did he just hear that?
His breath suddenly came out in a white puff. He slowly turned around. What was going on?
He suddenly put his talons to his mouth, backing away in horror.
It was Cedric. He was standing in the pale light. He was hunched over, funeral clothes caked with mud, and flesh peeling like a rotting apple.
The dead teen slowly lifted his head, cocking it to the side, gazing with puss dripping eyes. His black mouth was gaping and a spider crawled out and up into his decayed nostrils.
"NO!" Harry screamed, backing away, snarling. "YOU'RE NOT REAL!"
Cedric took a stumbling step towards him on bare feet, reaching for him with runny hands. His flesh looked like melting yellow candle wax. His flesh was rotting away like a fruit left out under the hot sun.
That empty voice spoke to him, filling him with horror. It filled his bones with a cold terror.
"STAY AWAY FROM ME!" He screamed.
"Why did you let me take hold of that chalice, Harry?" The terrible vision asked him. "Why didn't you save me? Didn't you love me?"
Harry fell to his knees, tears streaming from his eyes. He threw back his head and screamed.
"I'm sorry, Cedric! I'm so sorry!"
He could suddenly feel those rotting hands on his body. They were touching him, groping him, stabbing their maggot infested fingers into him. Those putrid lips were covering him with rancid kisses that smelled of foul decay.
"You let me die, Harry."
Harry was thrown onto his back by those dead hands. He screamed and fought with the vision. He was powerless against it.
Cedric blinked and his left eye began to slide out and down his rotting cheek. He sucked in his tongue, sending flies scattering all in the air, trying to smile. His teeth were rotten and black. Maggots began crawling out of his left socket and nostrils as he crawled on top of Harry's struggling form.
"NO!" Harry screamed, feeling that oozing hardness. "GET OFF ME! CEDRIC! NO!"
"You killed me, Harry," Cedric told him. "You got me killed just by being who you are."
Harry dug his talons into the floor and screamed. He screamed and he screamed and he screamed some more. The whole shack was quaking from it.
"Poor little Harry," Voldemort chuckled from beyond his line of sight. "What ever has your disturbed little mind concocted?"
"I'LL KILL YOU!" Harry cried, squeezing his eyes shut, trying to block out the smell. "I'LL KILL YOU ALL!"
"But," Cedric whispered, grinding down on him. "You already killed me, Harry."
Harry began to laugh. He dug his talons into the floor, tearing at the wood with ease, howling with insane laughter. His gemstone eyes snapped open with a molten acidic glow.
He was on his feet in a blink, stepping through the illusion as if it were mist, looking right at the Dark Lord. He lunged right at him, falling through the image, landing on his knees with a vicious snarl. He spun around.
"WHERE ARE YOU?"
He looked this way and that.
"COME OUT, TOM! YOU CAN'T HIDE FROM ME!"
He picked up the nearest object and sent it flying through the wall with a loud crash.
"WHEN I FIND YOU, TOM," he screamed, gathering his wits about him, stalking with the marching shadows behind him. "I'M GOING TO MAKE ALL YOUR FOLLOWERS WATCH AS I DRINK YOUR BLOOD AND DANCE AROUND, WEARING YOUR SKIN! BY THE TIME I GET DONE, THERE IS GOING TO BE A NEW HEAD BITCH IN CHARGE!"
He picked up the blood-filled golden chalice, howling with madness. He was not going to make this mistake again. Oh, no! He was going to kill him and parade his body around all over England. He was even going to find a way to raise some zombies and have them fuck his corpse just for what he had just put him through.
"RUN, DARK WIZARD!" Harry roared like a crashing tidal wave. "RUN!"
To Be Continued