Black Death

Summary: Everyone thought that the Boy-Who-Lived was dead. They were wrong. Light-bashing, heavily so.

Pairing/s: None.

Warnings: Dumbledore bashing, Gryffindor bashing, hell Light bashing. Light is displayed pretty evil in this fic. 'Nice' Death Eaters, sadistic Death Eaters, 'nice' Voldie, Dark!Harry (plus he's evil, and he likes watching people die. I'll explain why… somewhere in the fic). Did I forget something? Oh, false-Prophecy-fic as well. Phew.

Disclaimers: I don't own Harry Potter (cries)

A one-shot I came up during school waiting for my bus. It just took me a hell of a long time to actually write it down.

UPDATED 2011-09-14: Checked over spelling mistakes, added scene breakers and such.


The Wizarding world was about to enter a stage of chaos. Their precious Harry Potter had died. Killed by the Dark Lord Voldemort, You-Know-Who, their greatest enemy. Hope was lost. The only thing the Light could do was trying to reduce the Dark Lord's number of people. Without knowing it, the Light was no better than the Dark.

Riddle Manor, the lair of Lord Voldemort

Voldemort smiled as he stroke the soft, black hair. Unlike what he had thought, the unruly nest to hair belonging to one certain teenager was actually rather soft. One Harry Potter looked up at the Dark Lord and quirked an eyebrow, perfect Slytherin-style. The man had learned the raven-haired teen asked a question when he did so.

"Nothing," Voldemort said, continuing to stroking the hair. He was seated in an armchair and Harry sitting on the floor, his head resting on one thigh belonging to the Dark Lord. "We've done it."

"Done and over with. When's the celebration?" Harry asked.

"No celebration for you," the man said sternly and the teen pouted. "Come on, you're supposed to be dead! And since when is a funeral a celebration?"

"They will really think I'm dead then."

"And pray tell, how are you supposed to go there and not be hauled as the Boy-Who-Rose-From-The-Dead?" Voldemort asked.

"The wonders of glamours," Harry replied, rolling his eyes at the 'Boy'-nickname. It was enough he had been called the Boy-Who-Lived.

Voldemort huffed, but didn't say anything against it. He traced the lightning-scar with one of his long fingers and sighed softly. How could he have been tricked so easily? He of all people should be able to spot a false Prophecy:

Voldemort stared at the pitiful pieces of the Prophecy that Lucius had brought back. The blonde man was still lying on the floor, twitching, unable to properly move thanks to the Crucio Voldemort had subjected him to. Bellatrix was still kneeling, though shaking and her eyes moved constantly between the floor and her master. Voldemort might have gotten a normal body again, raven hair framing his rather young face and his lean body swept in a black robe, but it did not make him any less terrifying. Or weaker for that matter.

"Take him out of here," the Dark Lord said softly to her. "Give him something for the pain."

"Yes my lord," she said and hurriedly dragged her sister's husband up before getting out of the room, Lucius staggering at her side.

Voldemort looked at the now broken Prophecy and could not believe his eyes. It was a fake. The design was perfect, the message clear but… it was still fake. A good fake. And he had fallen for it, hook, line and sink.

He sighed wearily and put his head in his hands. He had destroyed a child's life, along with his own. Harry Potter was a pawn in Dumbledore's game and the poor boy did not seem aware of it. Voldemort had to get him, and explain who the real Dumbledore was.

"Tom? Hello, wake up."

Voldemort woke up from his thoughts and stared into deep emerald eyes. Harry's face softened just a bit and the teen continued seeing the man's confused look:

"You didn't answer me when I called."

"Oh," Voldemort said. "Sorry; lost in thoughts."

"Yeah, I could hear you thinking."

"Ungrateful brat."

"Old man."

"Prissy Gryffindor."

"Smelly Slytherin."

"Will you two stop that?"

Voldemort and Harry whipped their heads towards the door. Draco sighed, put his hands on his hips and said:

"You argue like kids."

"With far better insults," Harry cut in.

"Doesn't matter!" the blonde almost shouted. "Man, you two really are a handful!"

"You're calling the Dark Lord and the Golden Boy a handful?" Voldemort said. "You wound my heart, little Malfoy."

"Are you saying we are hard to handle?" Harry said in mock shock. "Draco, that's mean!"

The blonde stared at the two of them.

"Where there is one, there is the other," he finally sighed. "You two always protect each other. Two against one is not fair!"

"You're the one sneaking up on us!" the two said simultaneously.

"Oh Merlin, save us all from the evil lord and his devil son…"

"That wasn't nice!" they shouted.


Two months later

Dumbledore was pacing his office. His most powerful weapon was now gone. What was he supposed to do now? He had put so much time and effort into forming Harry to the perfect weapon, and the perfect victim. Now all of his precious time, wasted!

There would be a funeral held for the boy in a few days. How ridiculous! The boy needed no funeral; they should focus more on winning! They had not focused on winning all since the brat died two months ago! Dumbledore needed some time though, and the funeral was a perfect opportunity. Go there, shed a few tears, and express your immense sorrow for the lost of such a young life.

That, and then he would be ready again. He will get domination, and he will see Voldemort fall. All for the greater good.


Harry walked up the stairs with a large book underneath his arm. His black cloak and hood hid his face and features from everyone's view. The Death Eaters had yet to know that he was on their side, so Voldemort kept him hidden. Only Draco knew who he was.

So there was no wonder that all the Death Eaters stared after the young man as he walked upstairs.

"Who's that?" Bellatrix whispered to the closest, her husband's brother Rabastan.

"Don't know," Rabastan replied. "Do you know, Rodolphus?"

"No," his brother said. "Lucius, any idea?"

"The Dark Lord said something about a boy who had found the right path," the blonde Malfoy said, "but I don't know who it is."

"You will soon know."

They whipped around as Voldemort entered the room. He looked after the teen that did not stop to look at them. He disappeared somewhere and Voldemort looked back at his followers.

"When is the funeral of Harry Potter?"

"It's in two days, my lord," Bellatrix supplied, "but there is no body and you have not said anything about a dead Harry Potter."

"He isn't dead," Voldemort said. "I just let the Light's fantasy go over their heads. Seeing them run around like chickens chased by a fox is actually rather amusing."

His chuckles brought shivers to his followers.


"What do you want with me?"

Voldemort looked pitifully at the teen sitting on the floor in front of him. Harry Potter, the boy who had been tricked. He was in a bad shape; the death of his godfather had taken its toll on him. The raven-hared teen had lost a lot of weight under just one month and he had dark circles under his eyes. His glasses were gone, so his eyes were narrowed to see anything, and the hair was dirty and limp. The oversized clothes hung on his thin frame even more, and the shoes had big holes in them.

The Dark Lord crouched down and took Harry's chin in his hand.

"Why are you killing yourself like this?" the man asked softly.

"Because they are liars," Harry replied. "All of them."


"Dumbledore, Ron, Hermione, the rest of the Weasleys… the Order, Remus… everyone. The only one who didn't lie to me is dead. So I don't have to live either."

"You've barely lived," Voldemort commented.

"That's why I want to die. If life is something I've already lived, I want to die."

"Life is so much more than the narrow path Dumbledore has put you on," the man said softly, smoothing down the unruly hair and already taking notes on what to fix. New clothes, fix the boy's eyesight, better food and definitely some nutrient potions… perhaps some Dreamless sleep potion, just tonight?

"Why are you doing this?" Harry asked. "You kidnap me from the Dursleys, not that I don't thank you for that, pull me into a room away from the Death Eaters and trying to help me. Why?"

"Because Dumbledore didn't just lie to you, Harry," Voldemort said. The teen looked at him. "Will you allow me to tell the truth as I see it?"

Harry looked at him for a long time, and then nodded.

Harry was startled from his memories by the door opening to the library. He turned around and came face to face with Bellatrix. Luckily he had his glamour on and his black cloak, so she could only see his lower face. She stared at him. The raven-haired teen soon turned back to his book and continued trying to complete the essay he was going to give Severus later.

The potions master had found himself having a private student one month ago, the mysterious teen Voldemort had brought. He was surprised to see that the teen had some amount of talent, though it needed some serious training to shake off the dust. Harry was now on his seventh essay he was going to turn in; Severus would have some fun for a while.

Bellatrix soon returned to whatever she was supposed to do, working silently around him.


Severus Snape was in a bad mood. Dumbledore was nagging on him, the new Minister was nagging on him, Remus was nagging, Molly was nagging, hell EVERYONE was nagging! Except for the Dark Lord of course; he did not nag, he commanded. That was a big difference, though the image of Voldemort nagging was quite hilarious to watch.

Though the only command he had gotten the latest month from the Dark Lord was to teach a teen Potions and some history. Of all the times Severus had seen the mysterious teen in Riddle Manor, he had never seen the boy's face. He had seen pale hands, far too thin to belong a healthy sixteen-year old, working quickly but still following orders, and the pale face with high cheekbones. The potions master had never seen the teen's eyes; he doubted someone else than Voldemort had seen the teen's full face.

Speaking of the devil, the teen was calling. Severus had been given a two-way mirror if the teen wanted him something. Not that the man had complained; the boy provided him with a new set of insults and comments whenever he wanted.

"Young lord," Severus greeted the teen. That was what he had been ordered by the Dark Lord to call the teen.

"Hi Sev. I got something for you." The teen had called him Sev from the first meeting, and Severus did not quite dare to protest. Plus it did not sound so bad. Just as long as his godson did not hear it; Draco would never let him live it down.

"For me?"

"Yes. I figured you would be sick of reading brat's half-finished essays or the perfect ones that you can't help but give a 'Troll' to."

"You've been doing essays?" Severus asked, surprised.

"Yep! Seven of them!"



"Bloody brat," Severus grumbled as he got out from the fire-place.

"Who?" Lucius said, looking at his friend oddly.

The potions master did not answer but carried on with long strides to the library.

"The boy is in there," Bellatrix whispered. "Why is Severus going there?"

"Severus, the Dark Lord's guest is in the library," the blonde called out.

"Yes, I know! He's the bloody brat I'm talking about!"

"Wha…?" they both said weakly.

Severus opened the doors and stomped inside.

"Seven bloody essays along with the other homework and private lessons in three days? What are you, a genius?"

"Nope, just being bored," the teen responded. "The Lord doesn't allow me to kill and he doesn't have much time to teach me these days due to the planning of the final confrontation. So I just read up on my subjects so either you or him can quiz me later, and write essays to you."

"To me?"

"Yeah! You're the best teacher I've ever had!"

"Where the hell have you been schooled?"

"You have no idea," the teen said and thrust a bunch of parchments into Severus' hands. "There they are!"

The potions master stared at the bunch in his hands and said:

"Seven? It looks like seventeen."

"I like to write, and adding details," the teen continued with a grin.

Voldemort strode into the library and looked at the two of them. Harry turned his smile at the Dark Lord and said:

"Just giving Sev some essays."

"We're going to be late," the man said.

"Late for what?"

"For a surprise. Hurry up brat."

"Don't call me that, Tom!"

Severus froze. He had never heard the teen be so familiar with the Dark Lord. Voldemort chuckled, and drew the teen closer to pat his cheek. The teen had the nerve to stick out his tongue.

"Come on," the dark wizard said. "Come along with us, Severus."

Severus found himself soon in the potions lab together with Voldemort and the mysterious teen.

"What are we going to do, Tom?" the teen asked.

"First, check Severus' loyalties," the Dark Lord said and turned to the potions master.

Severus may have been the perfect icon for a Light spy, but he certainly was not one. He had never been on Dumbledore's side; the only reason he had protected Harry Potter was because the boy was Lily's son. So his loyalties lied with the Dark Lord now when the boy had gone away.

"Do we even need to check?" the teen huffed, and the potions master turned his surprised eyes to him. "I mean, he's as dark as you can get!"

"I'm not talking about his clothing," Voldemort deadpanned.

"Me neither!"

"Don't tell me you tried Legilimens on him, young man."

"Nope," the teen said. "That's rude, and totally Dumblefuck-style. I don't do Dumblefuck-style."

"Language cheeky brat."

"Yeah, love ya too."

Severus had never seen such a carefree teen as this one. And speaking to the Dark Lord like that!

"Alright, you brat," Voldemort said fondly. "I believe you. Severus, are you loyal to my beliefs?"

"As always, my lord," the potions master replied, bowing his head.

"Good," Voldemort said, ignoring the teen's 'I told you'-comment. "We're going to attack on the funeral of Harry Potter."

Severus frowned, silently asking why.

"I have a big surprise to the ever lovely Light," the Dark Lord continued. "Their little Harry Potter isn't dead."

"Isn't dead?" Severus repeated, a small hope flaring in his chest. So that meant Lily's son was still alive. And maybe, just maybe, Harry had seen through Dumbledore's lies and that was why he was gone. Severus himself had been forced not to reveal anything to the child. He had wanted though.

"Correct. And since you are one of my most trusted people, I will allow you to know who this child is."

Severus looked at the teen, and gaped when the teen said:

"Hello, Professor Snape."

"Professor?" he asked.

"Yeah, last time I checked," the teen replied and drew back his hood. "Or just to be my immature self, should I call you greasy git?"

"Harry!" the Dark Lord said and smacked the teen over the head. "Language!"

"That hurt!" Harry shouted and clutched his head. "We're supposed to torment Draco, not each other!"

Severus stared, his jaw hitting the ground, at Harry Potter, who by now was in a full bickering-session with the feared Dark Lord, kicking and punching included. This was certainly a sight he had never witnessed before.


Bellatrix walked around Harry, looking him over. The teen felt slightly nervous of meeting the woman who had been part of his godfather's death but she did not feel so frightening now. The woman finally stopped, gripped his shoulders and said:

"I don't know what our lord did to you, but you're looking definitely much better!"

"I do?" the teen asked, eyebrow raised.

"Aha! Slytherin-style!" she exclaimed, pointing at him. "You were a Slytherin in disguise, weren't you?"

"Perhaps, considering the hat wanted me in Slytherin at first," Harry said with a smirk.

The people around him gaped. Voldemort shook his head. Draco grinned. Bellatrix clapped her hands in pure delight.


Two days later
The funeral of Harry Potter

The hall was crowded with people. They were all there to say their goodbyes to their now dead saviour. The coffin was empty of a body, but no one seemed to care.

Voldemort moved slowly through the crowds, Harry safely behind him. They both wore glamours, looking like a man with his child. The Inner Circle of the Death Eaters was wandering around the place, most of them under glamours to hide their looks and their magic.

Harry saw Dumbledore and sneered. Voldemort quickly seized the teen before he could do anything stupid and steered him into another direction. The Dark Lord glared at the old wizard's back and muttered:

"He is going to die today."

He looked around and saw Bellatrix in her disguise as a young woman with brown hair and brown eyes. The madness in the eyes destroyed the image a bit though. He nodded to her and she grinned, making the eyes shine up even more. It was official; Bellatrix could not play a sane person not matter how much she tried.

Bellatrix pointed her wand against a random person and shouted out in glee:


Immediately thirty to forty other Death Eaters threw their curses, sending the whole place into chaos. A few other Death Eaters sealed the hall shut, preventing people from escaping. Voldemort threw off his glamour to show off his red eyes and snake-like face. He pulled Harry close and started shouting out curse after curse, feeling almost giddy. He felt Harry press closer as the glamour melted away. The black hood hid the teen's face though.


The Dark Lord turned, Harry behind him and faced Dumbledore. The man was white of fury and Voldemort snickered.

"Hello Albus," he said and waved. Harry giggled from behind him.

"Why are you here? Isn't it enough that you killed Harry; now you must destroy his funeral?"

"I didn't kill Harry," the Dark Lord said in a sickly sweet voice. "Who said I did?"

"Your Death Eaters took him away from his home!"

"But you never saw a body, Albus. You never saw him dead."

Dumbledore looked at the youngster behind Voldemort and said:

"Why do you bring children with you? To act like your shield?"

"I'm not like you!" Voldemort roared. "I don't use children to gain what I want!"

"What are you talking about?"

"The Prophecy, Albus, your Prophecy," the Dark Lord said, gripping Harry's arm hard. "It was false, but yet you let a young child believe it was his destiny."

"So?" Dumbledore said. "He was too strong to be left alive. He just had to kill you, and then I would have killed him so he could go to his parents."

"Maybe he wanted to live, you old fool! Who wants to die when they are young and free?"

Dumbledore shot an Avada Kedavra towards the man but Voldemort threw it away.

"What would you do if I killed that child you seem to hold so precious?" the headmaster hissed.

"You would die before you could even touch him," the Dark Lord hissed right back.

"Who is he?"

"Someone who knows the truth of the great Light's leader. Someone who knows who you really are."

Harry grinned at the headmaster, waved cheerfully and said:

"Good evening, former headmaster of mine. A lovely day to die on, right?"

Dumbledore's eyes widened. Then he said weakly:


"The one and only," Harry replied. "As much as you would love to have a little chit-chat with me and Tommy boy, we are not up for it. So let's skip the formalities and get on with the killing."

"Tommy boy?" Voldemort asked, an eyebrow twitching.

"What?" the teen said. "It's nothing wrong with Tommy!"

"Can you see me be called Tommy?" the Dark Lord said while pointing at himself.

Harry looked at the man for a while, and then promptly started laughing. Dumbledore was shaking in fury and whipped out his wand.

He was too slow. Suddenly he was on his knees, wand wrenched from his hand and five wands pointed at him. One of them belonged to Severus.

"Severus, what are you doing?" Dumbledore shouted. "Kill them!"

"Killing my friends?" the man asked. "You are more heartless than any other person I have ever met."

"Your friends? They are monsters!"

He was cut short by the Crucio curse Severus put him under. The obsidian eyes shone up for a moment with hatred. Voldemort put a hand on the black-haired man's arm, and Severus woke up. He released the old man from the curse and Dumbledore fell down.

The Dark Lord around and watched his Death Eaters defeat the Aurors and other various Light people with amusement shining in his eyes. He drew Harry closer, and watched the child for a little while.

Harry's eyes were shining with interest as he followed the Death Eaters and their curses. His mouth stretched into a wide smile, and combined with his shining eyes he looked quite alike Bellatrix when she got to kill some people. Voldemort had discovered quite early on when he took care of the teen that Harry acted rather… peculiar.

A Death Eater had entered the bedroom without permission; a Death Eater Voldemort did not like at all. He had shot a Crucio at the man and held the screaming and pathetic creature under the curse for a few minutes. When he released the man and turned back to Harry, he was met with a sight he had not expected.

Harry's eyes were lit up, and he seemed to have enjoyed the show. When asked why, he had answered:

"I've always liked seeing people in pain. Is it something wrong with that?"

Voldemort chuckled at the memory, and squeezed the teen's shoulder. Dumbledore had been bound and gagged and could now only glare furiously at the two. Harry looked at him, bored and then turned back to watching the futile struggle the Light put up. It was not long until they all had been defeated.

"Now what do you want me to do with them?" Voldemort whispered in Harry's ear. "I will obey your wishes, little raven."

"Not little," came Harry's muffled words. "They all wanted to use me to gain fame. Kill them all."

"Painfully or quickly?"

"Painfully," Harry said. "Dumbledore the most."

"Oh, don't worry… I'll save him for last."


The Weasleys plus Hermione were held in a cell and all drew back to the wall when a hooded person came in view. They did not even know if it was a man or woman. The figure stopped in front of their cell, the only visible was the mouth and chin. The skin looked sickly white in the bad light.

"Who the hell are you?" Arthur screamed. "You bastards will not get away with this!"

"You gained friendship with Harry Potter for the sake of fame," the person said. It was a young man. "You used him for your own purpose. Explain yourselves."

"We don't need to explain anything," Hermione spat venomously to him.

Fred and George was oddly silent, standing close to each other. The young man tilted his head; they were looking at him quite determined. Fred shot a look at Bill who looked as equal determined.

The young man tapped a long finger against his chin, deep in thought. Then he snapped his fingers and said:

"Bellatrix darling, get Fred, George and Bill Weasley out of the cell to the interrogation room."

"Coming, coming," Bellatrix said and danced over to the young man. "The interrogation room, young lord?"

"Yes," he said and turned to walk there himself. Bellatrix waved the door open, pointed her wands at them and said:

"You heard the lord. You obey the lords, no matter if it is the older or the younger."


The three Weasleys stood close as the young man seated himself on a chair.

"Alright, what gave me away?" he asked them and Fred grinned.

"Your voice," the twin replied. "Bill and George heard it as well; your serious voice, Harry."

Harry drew back the hood and looked at them.

"Were you going to kill us?" George asked.

"No, not really," Harry said. "I was going to wait until the others were dead and then just release you but now… hmm, do you mind 'dying' like I did?"

"Oh, you mean never go back to the cell and merely let their imaginations run amok?" Bill asked. The teen nodded. "Well, that sounds fine with me."


Three hours later

"You killed my boys!" Molly screamed before spitting Harry in the face. The spit hit one of his cheeks.

Bellatrix growled and whipped out her wand when Harry's gentle hand on her arm stopped the woman. With a handkerchief, he wiped the spit away and then looked at it, disgusted. He threw it over his shoulder and said:

"There was no need to remind me that I needed a bath. However, now I must take two to ensure your filth has not tainted me."

Molly grew white of fury and he smiled a bit sadistically.

"Bellatrix?" he asked sickly sweet.

"Yes, my lord?" she answered dreamily. The tone indicated she was going to kill someone for the young lord, and she took every chance she got to do just that.

"Take the youngest," he said. "That girl. Kill her in front of them. Slowly mind you. You know where I will be."

"As you wish, my lord," she said with a grin. "What shall we do with the bodies in the interrogation room?" A lie but it worked perfectly; the Weasleys' and Hermione's faces grew ashen.

"Our lord has no need for anymore bodies," Harry said with a wave as he walked away. "Burn them for all I care."

"You will not get away with this!" Molly shrieked as Bellatrix opened the door.

Harry exited the dungeons to the sounds of them pleading the Lestrange to spare Ginny. A grin worked its way upon his face. This was going just fine.


"Harry, stop this. Harry, you must kill Voldemort now."

The teen ignored Dumbledore's words as he continued reading. Voldemort was late. Considering he was practically ruling the Wizarding World though, Harry could cut him some slack.

"Yes Potter, listen to what Dumbledore has to say," Moody growled.

"Please," he said and looked away from the book. "Can't you see I'm reading?"

"Potter, this is not a joke!"

"I know," Harry said. "Merlin, how loud can you be? If I had known I would never get a moment's peace by sitting here, I would not even have entered the dungeons this morning."

"Need to be relieved by your duties, young lord?"

Harry turned to see Draco and Lucius stand there. He rose up and said happily:

"If! They were trying to make me go deaf!"

"Harry, don't do this…" Dumbledore pleaded.

"Hear that? They've been sounding like that for hours!" the teen whined. Draco chuckled while Lucius hid his smile behind one of his hands.

"Don't worry, young lord," Draco said. "We will wait for our lord here. Has the Weasley clan been killed yet?"

"No, not yet," Harry said. "Their oldest, the twins and Ginny are dead though. I thought I would do Charlie or Percy today."

"Excellent choice young lord," Lucius said. "May I ask who you will save for the last?"

"Not quite sure, but I think Molly. She's always irritated me the most," the teen said in deep thought, ignoring the horrified looks he was getting from Dumbledore, Moody and a few more from the Order from their respective cell.

"I hope I will be able to watch when you take the Mudblood out," the blonde teen said and bowed a bit. "I have always awaited her death."

"Of course, Draco," Harry said. "I'll let you know when her time is due."


Harry walked along the corridor before coming to the cell that held the Weasleys. They were cowering in one of the corners and did not notice him until he stepped over Ginny's bloodied corpse. Molly flew up, her face twisted and she screamed at him:

"You killer! You horrible killer! You will die! Dumbledore will kill you!"

"Funny, considering he's in a cell like you," Harry said, amused and they could see his lips twitch into a smile. His upper face was hidden by the shadows and his hood.

Molly was about to continue when he opened the door and said:

"You'll have to excuse me, but Charlie boy is coming with me."

"No!" they all screamed. "You won't kill him!"

Harry sighed and snapped his fingers. Charlie began to be dragged towards him and it made the teen chuckle when he saw the useless struggle to keep the man in the cell. He shut the cell door and knocked Charlie unconscious. As he was not strong enough to drag Charlie on his own, he looked around and finally called out:


"Yes, young lord?" the man said as he stopped cleaning one of the bloodied cells.

"Mind helping me a bit? He's going outside."

They ignored Arthur's and Molly's screams.


"That's odd," Harry mumbled as he poked on Charlie. The man did not stir.

"What's odd?" Rabastan asked. Bellatrix turned to them as she heard the teen.

"He's under a rather strong Imperius," the teen said and looked up at Rabastan. "There can only be one reason right?"

"He isn't loyal to them," Rabastan said with a grin.

"Most likely. Remove the spell."

Rabastan did so and then woke the man up. Charlie blinked a few times before looking between the two of them. He didn't jump up and tried to defend himself. He just looked at them.

"Um…" he said after a while. "Considering my thoughts are rather clear at the moment, I just have to assume that bloody Imperio spell is gone?"


The day had come for Dumbledore's death. Harry had killed off the rest of the Weasleys a few days prior, going so far to hang Hermione onto a cross outside… for fun. Voldemort had only shaken his head at that.

Harry was currently trying to ignore the screams Dumbledore gave out, about this and that, and had gone so far to put his hands over his ears. Bellatrix finally grew sick of the tirade and silenced the man.

"Thank you," Harry said, relieved.

"No problems," she said happily. "Think; tomorrow we will be free from that man and we can do whatever we want!"

He looked at her and she continued:

"Well, maybe not all we want… but I can go around in public without being arrested. With a new Ministry, the Wizarding World has taken a turn for the better."

Harry agreed but still was not sure what he wanted to do. He had no wish to leave the comfort of the manor. He had no wish to walk in public. If anything, he just wanted to be with Voldemort and his new friends.

He was interrupted by Voldemort entering the dungeons. Bellatrix bowed lightly and the Dark Lord said:

"Go and prepare the room, Bella."

With a grin, she skipped away to do as the man had ordered. Voldemort looked at Harry's troubled face and said:

"What's wrong?"

"I don't know," the teen said. "I don't want to leave the manor after this I think. I feel fine here."

"You don't have to leave as long as you don't want to," Voldemort reassured. "You can do what you wish to do for the rest of your life; I will be there to help you."

The raven-haired teen looked up at Voldemort who only gave him a smile. Harry smiled back and said:

"How about we finish it?"


Dumbledore was taken into a windowless room with symbols drawn all over it, its centre being a ring in the middle of the floor. He was pushed there and bound to the ground. He glared at them both but neither was faced.

"I like what you did to the Weasleys," Voldemort said and looked at Harry. "Are the other four okay?"

"Yep! Charlie returned to Romania," Harry said and Dumbledore gaped. "What's wrong, old man?"

"You… you spared some of the Weasleys? I knew you were still a good boy, Harry, so-"

"I am most certainly not a good boy," Harry snarled, being restrained by the Dark Lord. "And they are on my side, not yours you bastard. Charlie hated you, and you put an Imperio on him. Fred and George at least managed to hide their loyalty, and Bill was protected by the goblins. They are fine, but they aren't on your side."

Before Dumbledore could start again, Voldemort stomped one foot into the ground, activating the symbols.

"This room was prepared just for you," Voldemort said with a grin. "In here you will live for the rest of your pathetic life, and all the company you will have is nightmares from the people whose lives you have destroyed!"

Harry was dragged out from the room, and the last thing they heard from the aged man was a scream of pain.


A few months later

Voldemort was currently doing his favourite time-passing activity; watching Harry as he stroke the raven hair. It had become a habit for both of them to do things like that once in a while. The Wizarding World was beginning to settle down and accept the changes with Lucius as the Minister and Severus as the headmaster at Hogwarts.

Harry however did not return to school. He had been true to his words, and had not left the wards surrounding the manor once. Voldemort was not a least bit worried about it; Harry would face the Wizarding World when he was ready.


Voldemort looked down at the sleepy Harry and said:


"Does the Wizarding World still believe I'm dead?"

Oh… that got the man thinking. He looked up at the roof and said:

"Truthfully… I don't have a clue. Considering you haven't shown your face once they might still believe that…"

Harry thought for a bit as well, then shrugged and snuggled up closer to the man before saying:

"Oh well… it's not like I'm gonna save the fanatic Light people anyway."

"True, too true," Voldemort said with a grin.

Harry yawned and settled down for a nap. He was warm, comfortable, he had everything he needed when it came to food, entertainment, books and so on so why should he care about the world? They could go to hell for all he cared, all those who still believed he had met a gruesome death. They were idiots anyway.


"Hmm?" My, the Dark Lord was getting sleepy as well.

"I never asked you how I died."

"And what does it matter now?" the man asked, cracking one eye open to glance down at the teen.

"I'm bored."

Voldemort sighed; peace was never near this child. But, he thought as he prepared to launch into a fully explained and detailed version of how Harry had 'died', I wouldn't have it any other way.


Like it? I think it's pretty okay. Although it took a fucking long time to write it -sheepish smile-

Until another time,