A Perfect Grace
Summary: Harry had asked the devil for the power to defeat Voldermort and the devil asked for his heart in return. There had been laughter in his dreams ever since.
Harry sells his soul to the devil when he is fourteen.
The devil is a pale skinned man who smiles with a mouth full of fangs and skin that glows painfully bright. "I'll give you anything you want." He whispers with a voice full of empty promises, his hand held out in offering, "All I want in return is one little thing.
Later when Harry's heart stops he knows the deal is made. His eyelids are tattooed with visions of fire and fanged smiles. Magic like thunder rumbles through his mind and his hands are full of fire and lightning and he wishes Cedric was still alive. He knows he now belongs to hell and doesn't care.
He is sent to the Dursleys the next day.
Privet drive is full of shadows and memories.
His breath comes out as iced air and where his heart should be there's a heavy, sharp cornered rock resting against his ribcage, sanding away at the bone. Without it he's neither living nor dead and he changes accordingly.
His skin fades to marble white and his eyes are circled in bruises and smudges of colour, it only makes his eyes greener, or maybe it's the magic that does that, because he's so full of it now it escapes him in any way it can. Electricity flickers and dies around him and when the Dursleys try to throw him out he wipes their minds and uses them like puppets, making them move for his own vengeful enjoyment.
His hatred of them is old like a memory and it drains out of him half way through to summer until he feels nothing when he looks at their empty, wasting bodies. So he leaves them and forgets.
Sometimes he thinks it wasn't just his heart the devil took; his emotions are as frail and empty as smoke and he drifts half asleep waiting to grow up, waiting for the completion of his deal.
The magic makes him beautiful, despite his too pale skin and his too bright eyes. His thin and small and his face is made up of sculpted lines and delicate bones. He looks half fae, still too young to truly inspire lust but half way there and it should worry him but he doesn't feel properly so he watches the gazes of men of the street with an odd passive curiosity. He burns patterns onto his skin with his overflowing magic and the pain is almost enough.
When Harry returns to Hogwarts people are scared of him, Cedric's name is whispered and he curses the first child to say it until they are pale and waxen and close to death. Dumbledore's twinkling eyes are dull with worry and he leads Harry away with a frail hand until he is out of reach of everyone's shocked, fearful gaze. The headmaster seems very old suddenly and the devil is whispering mocking words in his ears as he sits watching dull blue eyes examine his warily.
"Oh Harry, what have you done" he asks and Harry stares cold and perfect up at him and his mouth is full of fangs as he smiles.
"I've saved the world" he answers and when he wanders off he is barely touching the ground, his hair too black and his skin too pale and his magic glows through his pores.
Dumbledore's hand is burnt black.
The devil had been after Harry since Cedric's death; he called himself the devil but had been insistent on the fact that it didn't mean there was a God. He had stayed almost constantly by Harry's side, invisible to everyone else. His fanged smiles were bright and his eyes were like blood promising and taunting and mocking until Harry couldn't take it anymore.
He had asked the devil for the power to defeat Voldermort and the devil had asked for his heart in return. Harry had accepted and the devil had been laughing in his dreams ever since. He had fallen a little in love with the demon, if only because the man owned his heart.
Now Harry smiles his own fanged smile and the devil strokes his skin lovingly leaving him with blistering highways of burns and scratches.
It's only asleep does he remember emotion, even a little. The rest of the time he is marble and ice and he feels nothing for the faceless people he had once held such affection for. He is heartless, but powerful and that was what he asked for.
The magic is burning under his skin and he guesses he must be hot to the touch, as if he's burning up inside. His skin glows and he is fire; everyone else is moths to him.
His magic is so powerful now he doesn't need his wand; he leaves it in his trunk and performs miracles until the teachers are slack jawed with fear. He creates and destroys on a whim but he feels no emotion so his magic is generally unused, he's storing it up inside himself and his glow a little bit brighter and little bit more unnaturally every day.
They are afraid of him, for him, and leave him to watch them, glowing and distant.
Even Hermione and Ron feel a million miles from the quiet place Harry has enclosed himself in. The devil mocks them and he doesn't feel anything when Hermione cries as she sees him burning patterns on his skin. The devil's breath is hot against his neck, urging him to continue and he glances at her wide, fearful expression and then burns another circle into his arm.
They stay away after that.
Only Snape still speaks to him, his anger is stronger than other people's fear. He mocks and tries to hurt with his words but the rock resting against Harry's ribcage is cold and unyielding and his eyes show his apathy.
Harry only vaguely feels the old emotions he held for the man and when the potions master corners him after class one day he is only half surprised when the man reaches out to hit him. He wishes to invoke a response in Harry, but Harry has nothing to give him.
His fingers graze Harry's pale cheek and Harry's magic sends him tumbling to floor, the man's mouth is slack and open in silent screams as he writhers on the floor in agony. The devil laughs in his ear and strokes at Harry's sharp collarbones.
"You mustn't touch me, I belong to someone else"
Snape is too delirious on pain to hear him but it's ok because he understands anyway and after that he avoids Harry like the plague, his pained movements a constant reminder of Harry's distance.
Hermione doesn't cry for him anymore.
It is nearly time, the devil is becoming impatient, a frowning presence in his thoughts and he hears him angrily whispering in his ear as he waits.
He is ethereal with magic now, so beautiful it hurts to look at him. There are no words to describe his appearance, he glows constantly, as if the sun had taken residence beneath his skin and the fear people feel is overruled by their awe of him. They know something is coming and watch him with desire and wariness as Harry slows down. He doesn't go to lessons anymore, doesn't eat or speak and spends most of his time sat by the window, watching the stars and the sun and waiting.
They watch him silently.
The devil is beside him, unseen by the wizards and he mocks them to Harry and asks when he will leave them and come to him. Harry looks up at him, glowing and beautiful and smiles with a mouth full of sharp white teeth. "Do you still have my heart?"
The devil does not smile but strokes Harry's dark hair and sighs "I have ruined you"
The boy turns away, looking out over the twinkling stars, mocking them with his brightness "You have not ruined me, you have broke me"
The devil grips at Harry's face and stares into his distant eyes "Then I will put you back together"
Harry slips away and stands up, his muscles and bones crackling and his magic thrumming in preparation. "You can't, all you do is destroy"
And then he is gone and final battle begins.
Voldermort is mesmerized by him and he walks right up to the man, pulsing and thrumming and fierce, his brilliant eyes hollowed out and cold. He keels down at the snake man's feet and looks up languid and careless. "Do you want to touch me?"
Voldermort does and even if knows this is trap, Harry's magic is too powerful and he reaches out with fingers made of little more than bone.
As soon as he touches Harry's flesh he dies, wracked and torn apart by magic and the world explodes with light. Harry doesn't move as the earth sets on fire, his skin repels flames and his hair is unmoving in the wind.
Harry stares down at the empty shell of his enemy and the magic flows from his fingers like streamers until he is empty as well and he crumples to the floor, vaguely aware of the presence of the devil as he kneels down beside him, stroking at his skin and layering his face with tiny kisses that draw blood and pain.
"The deal is fulfilled"
Harry's heart pulses painful and his body bows in pain.
Moments later he is dead.
Harry is reunited with his emotions in one foul go, the devil laughs at his pain and holds him with little gentleness, gripping his thin arms until his nails cut ribbons out of his flesh. Harry grief is stronger than ever and looks into the devil's manic face and feels for the first time in so long.
"I told you I'd fix you"
Harry's dazed and still beautiful but he doesn't glow anymore, his beauty is sharp and dead and he allows the devil to kiss him because he belongs to him, his heart throbs against his rib cage and the tears come easily.
"I don't think I'm fixed"
"You're perfect for me" the devil says gleefully and Harry is washed away in his laughter.
Neville is at the hospital, watching his parents' empty bodies and wishing death and blood on people. He is alone and ignored and sick with unanswered questions and hate.
The light is cold and the white wash sterile and he almost expects the voice that calls out to him.
"What to make a deal? I can give you anything you want?"
He spins away from his parents and the beeping machines, and peers in the shadows as the slender figure steps forward.
Harry's eyes are brilliantly bright with death. He holds out his hand; the skin is glowing and his smile is fanged.
"All I want in return is one little thing"
Thoughts are always welcomed, preferable expressed in review form.