Title: Dead-Viewing Eyes
Pairing: Harry (Joker)/Lord Voldemort
Timing: Summer before 6th year; Harry is 16 years old.
Warning: Underage sex, lemon, deaths of three people, betrayal
Summary: Harry learns of the reason why he couldn't see thestrals until Cedric's death, and discovers a betrayal by a previous ally. Voldemort and Joker finally consummate their relationship. HP/LV LEMON!
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, though I wish I did. In fact, Harry would be gay and aligned with the Dark, Dumbledore would be in Azkaban, and magic can be used out of school. I'm just saying.
Claimer: I own the name 'Joker' and the spell 'Mitipute.' As well as the plot, which is mine as well.
Author's Note: For all of you who asked (a surprisingly large number, in fact) here is when Voldemort finally has his Joker! The lemon is marked, so you can overlook it if you don't feel like reading sex. Enjoy!
Harry shifted in the arms wrapped securely around his waist. He cuddled back into the warm body of Voldemort and sighed. Stray thoughts spun in his hazy mind as spidery fingers wove through his hair.
"Why didn't I see the thestrals when I rode in the carriages from the school to the train at the end of first year?" he asked curiously.
Voldemort made a questioning sound at the back of his throat, causing Harry to roll in the man's arms, coming face-to-face with his ex-enemy.
"If all that is required to see thestrals is to watch a person die, why was I unable to see the thestrals that pulled the carriages?"
Voldemort curiously replied, "When was the first time you saw death?"
"My mother, Lily, on the night you gave me this scar," the young teen responded, running a finger over the lightning bolt adorning his forehead.
The red eyes were shuttered by flickering lids as the man went back into his memories of the night he arrived at the Potter house.
"Lily, take Harry and run!" the man, James, screamed from his guarded position at the front of the house. Lord Voldemort sneered at the brave ex-Gryffindor, and shot him with a Stunner. He stepped over the sleeping body and ascended the stairs.
The woman ran just ahead of him, slamming the door at the end of the hall just as he reached the second level. He heard the chants as she placed wards along the door and wall over the wails of the baby he was impatient to kill.
Smirking, Voldemort waited until the young Mrs. Potter finished. She had neglected to place a Silencing ward, so the red-eyed man heard clearly as she soothed her son and gathered bags waiting in the nursery. Deciding enough time had been wasted, Voldemort stepped to the door and hissed the parseltongue override. The power that had been humming before him suddenly snapped, and he heard Lily cry out as the magic was forcefully returned to her core. The cry of pain set an infant Harry Potter off again, and Voldemort grimaced.
A wave of his wand had the door slamming open. A well-placed Sticking charm held the door against the wall rather than having it ricochet into his face as he entered the room. Red hair whirled in the air as Lily stood protectively in front of her son, Harry standing at the edge of his crib with his hands outstretched for his mother.
"Move away, you silly girl!" Voldemort hissed menacingly.
The woman convulsed in tears, but her voice was firm as she replied, "No, not my baby; please, take me instead!"
Teeth bared at the Potter, Voldemort's yew wand rose in the air. He shot off a Parseltongue Stunning spell, putting the woman into a death-like sleep. The light shone green in the shadows of the nursery. Her pulse slowed to a crawl, though Voldemort knew not as he had already thrown the Avada Kedavra at the young toddler.
The screams of young Harry Potter echoed in the air as the spell sliced into his forehead and knocked him unconscious. Voldemort cursed as the spell rebounded from the child wizard and sliced into the older man's heart. As he felt a piece of his soul enter the child and burrow deep within his magical core, the wraith blew cold air in dismay. He'd have to keep a close eye on this child, and on his soul.
As his red eyes opened, his mind attempted to wrap around the truth. "When did you discover you could see the beasts?" he demanded.
The teen in his arms stiffened at the harsh tone, but soothed as the man's fingers resumed their movement through the hair at the base of his skull. "The end of fourth year; I said nothing to Ron and Hermione because I thought I was imagining it with the death of Cedric being held on my shoulders by some of my classmates. Why?"
Voldemort sighed and pressed a gentle kiss atop the mess of hair. "I am so sorry, my Joker," he whispered into Harry's ear.
"What do you mean?" Harry asked, his voice hesitant.
Voldemort sighed and pulled the teen in his arms closer. "I never fired Avada Kedavra at your parents, Harry." The teen stiffened but made no move to shift away from the man holding him.
"Then who killed them?" Harry wondered aloud.
"That is the question, and I know how to find the answer. Do you trust me, Harry?" Voldemort asked, making eye contact with the young Potter.
"Yes, I do."
"Come with me, and we shall see."
Voldemort Apparated to the boundary of the little town of Godric's Hollow. Anti-apparition wards around the perimeter of the small countryside area prevented him from getting closer, as they had been repaired once he had 'died.' Two masked Death Eaters followed the couple down the paved road, cloaked in Disillusionment spells so the Squibs living in the town wouldn't see them and send out an alert.
An empty square of land remained where the Potter house once stood. After walking through the waist-high gate, the cloaking spell on the house vanished, revealing the house's burned-out structure and a memorial dedicated to the late Potters and the Boy-Who-Lived.
"Are you positive you wish to do this, Joker?" Voldemort asked the teen, his voice soft.
The masked boy nodded, though his grip on the other man's hand tightened for comfort. "Alright, then." A swish of his wand brought a set of wards before his face, highlighted in the primary colors. He stabbed his wand into one that glittered a bright, dandelion-yellow color.
The ward turned white as an image focused on its hovering surface – the last memories of the house as it stood. Magical houses stored times of great emotions on their wards, that were then stored around the plot of land for the rest of time, regardless if the house still stood or if new wards were erected over a new structure. Few wizards or witches in Europe, if any, knew about the wards. The ones who knew, from Russia mainly, were unable to access the memories unless they had a great amount of power. They could only sense the trauma surrounding the land, and take a guess as to what happened.
A flick of his wand started the images moving, much like Wizarding World photos. The first was of Voldemort approaching the house. Malevolence hung about him like a dark cloud, which was the cause of the house to imprint this certain memory. As a Parseltongue speaker, though not naturally, Harry understood that the green, Avada Kedavra look-alike spell was a stunner, not the Unforgivable.
The next picture took place in the nursery. Harry watched as Voldemort argued with his mother, affection for the woman flooding his senses as he watched with thick tears dribbling from his eyes. He again understood the language as the spell was spoken. The memory continued on to Voldemort firing the true killing curse at Harry's toddler self.
The man in real life pressed a kiss to Harry's scarred head in apology.
Harry watched as the once-immortal Voldemort was killed by his own spell. Harry saw the soul fragment enter through the curse scar at the death of Voldemort's body. The magical backlash set fire to the floor around Voldemort's ashes. Harry was knocked unconscious, crumpled in his crib.
The next clip was of a sobbing Sirius passing Harry off to the half-giant Hagrid. Rather, Hagrid fought to take Harry from Sirius's protective arms, and prevailed as Black was distracted by a Disapparating form in the distance. The house was a smoking building at this point, the curse fire dismissed by Harry's godfather.
The last image stored by the house was the arrival of Dumbledore. He shot a hex at the upper floor and the entrance hall, where Lily and James lay respectively. The old man smirked and turned from the freshly burning house, a calculating glint in his blue eyes.
In real time once again, Voldemort had his arms full of a sobbing Harry. A quick gesture to his hidden Death Eaters had the group Disapparating to Riddle Manor, Voldemort's home. The man cradled the thin teen in his arms and carried him to their rooms, where he reclined on the bed with the trembling body in his lap. The man made soothing sounds as he gently rocked the distressed teen. His shoulder grew damp from the tears, and he quickly and carefully pulled the mask from his Joker's face at the teen's approval. Red-rimmed, green eyes were revealed as eye contact was made.
"I trusted him, and he killed them all along," Harry said, his breath coming in heaves. The salty tears trickled down his cheeks, and he rubbed them against the robes of the man to rid his skin of the sticky liquid.
"I will never betray you, Harry, I so swear it on my magic," Voldemort told the teen, his ruby eyes staring deeply into emeralds. Magic quickly twined through the room as the sworn sentence became binding for him. Harry felt the rise as his soul-tinted magic rose, accepting the end of the bond into his magical core. He was comforted by the man's declaration, and soon the tears slowed before stopping altogether.
"I want revenge," Harry murmured quietly. "Does Dumbledore have any living relatives?"
Voldemort's smile grew and he tightened his hold around the frail teen in his arms. "He has a brother, Aberforth, who is the owner of the Hog's Head in –"
"In Hogsmeade. Thank you, Voldemort," Harry told him. The teen stretched up and pressed a slightly salty kiss to the other man's lips, one of his hands stroking down the man's cheek.
In return, Voldemort opened his mouth and licked at Harry's lips to deepen the kiss, gently rolling atop the unresisting body and pressing their fronts together. Harry moaned as the older man broke the kiss to press lips and tongue down his neck, sucking against the skin until it purpled, and then moving on to another area. Their lips were again pulled together as if by magnets.
Voldemort shifted his weight to one arm and trailed his free hand down Harry's chest, slipping his fingers under the teen's shirt's hem to rub against his warm abdomen. Harry arched up to the man as those wonderful fingers splayed against his chest. He would rather stay to lose his virginity to the wonderful man working magic on his body, but Harry had revenge on his mind. "Wait," he breathed into Voldemort's mouth.
The man stilled in his movements and retreated to look Harry in the eye. "Why?" he asked.
Harry smiled and pressed a tentative kiss to the corner of the man's mouth. "It'll be better when we're victorious," Harry explained.
Voldemort groaned in dismay, but removed his hand from under Harry's shirt and rolled off the teen. Harry sat up with a small smile of apology. "Let's get this over with quickly," Voldemort told him.
Harry nodded in approval and rolled from the rather comfortable bed, Voldemort right behind him. The teen gathered his over robe and stuck his mask to his face. He slipped his feet into his boots and followed after Voldemort as the man Disapparated to the throne room. He appeared and fell onto his throne just as Voldemort summoned the majority of his Death Eaters. He watched the older man pace across the dais.
A couple minutes later brought dozens of masked women and men into the room, falling to their knees and bowing their heads as they waited for the rest to arrive. Fifteen minutes later and the ranks were full; the Death Eaters stood, heads up and waiting for their lord's proclamation. They hid their surprise as the man continued his pacing, gesturing jerkily for the Joker to stand and state the task.
Harry stood, gazing evenly over the masked followers. He ordered, "Attack Hogsmeade. Capture Aberforth Dumbledore, the owner of the Hog's Head, at any cost, preferably alive.
"The warders are to set up anti-Apparition wards and anti-Escape wards, and then you attack. Feel free to damage the town, but kill no one. Any questions?"
One brave Death Eater asked, "Why Dumbledore in particular?"
Harry smiled darkly, his half-mask displaying his mouth easily. "Albus Dumbledore killed my remaining family; it is only just I kill his. Now, leave and do this, or face our lovely torture chambers in the basement."
The people scurried from the hall and Harry captured Voldemort's arm, stopping the man's pacing. "They'll do it, and you'll have me tonight," Harry assured the man.
Voldemort ran his fingers through the multi-colored hair of Harry, tipped the teen's head back, and engaged their lips in a passionate kiss, ignoring the few still-present Death Eaters who tried to get through the doors. "Let's get an escape-proof cell set up," Voldemort whispered against Harry's plump lips.
The teen vaguely nodded his head, too wrapped up in the pleasant feelings running through his body. Voldemort told the rest of the gathered Death Eaters, those still waiting to leave the hall, "Stay here and tell the Inner Circle to bring the man to the cells." He pulled Harry into his arms, connected their lips again, and side-Apparated the teen into the basement next to an empty cell.
He dipped his head to worry at the fifteen-year-old's tight skin with his teen as his hand lazily flicked his wand for silencing charms, anti-Apparition wards, anti-Animagus wards, automatic binding charms, magic dampening wards (just in case), anti-Escape wards and, on Harry's request, fire-encouraging charms inside the cell. With the hard part done, he rewound his fingers in Harry's long hair and pressed the teen against a stone wall as he resumed kissing the rosy lips.
The teen's hands drifted down his clothed chest, fingers exploring the muscular but bony chest and sides. The digits parted the clasped robes and drifted down to the hem of the man's shirt, slipping under it and up the man's back, repeating what the man had done to Harry earlier. A shiver escaped the normally stoic man as Harry dragged his nails lightly down his spine. He felt Harry's smirk against his mouth and bit gently at the teen's lips, pulling the bottom one into his mouth and soothing the nips with his tongue.
Voldemort turned Harry's face to the side, breaking the kiss, to make his mark on the unmarred side of the teen's neck. He brushed aside the long hair and licked at the firm flesh. He sealed his lips to it and sucked, bringing blood to the surface. Harry's nails dug into his back as Voldemort nipped along the skin, drawing a little bit of blood. He lapped at it until the wound ceased to bleed and moved his mouth again to Harry's.
This was the sight the Death Eaters came to a half-hour later, the ones in the lead dragging a Stunned Aberforth between them. One hidden behind the others coughed to bring the lords back to the real world. The two pulled apart without a blush and hastily straitened their clothing. "In there," Voldemort ordered, gesturing to the prepared cell.
The Inner Circle, who knew of Joker as Harry, ignored the fact that Harry Potter, the so-called Savior of the Wizarding World, was busy making out with the Dark Lord, and closed the door behind their captured prisoner.
At the closing of the door, chains appeared and snaked down from the ceiling to bind the man's arms; more came up from the ground to catch his ankles. Aberforth was left suspended in the cell, spread eagle, and he awoke in this position a few minutes later. He kept his eyes partly lidded to examine his surroundings; he knew he was in a delicate situation as his old wrists ached with the hanging of his weight. He found himself enclosed in a cell, Death Eaters and Lord Voldemort gathered outside.
They were having a bright conversation filled with much laughter, as gathered by their movements. Aberforth couldn't hear a thing, and he guessed silencing charms were in place around him. He noticed You-Know-Who had a small form in the circle of his arm, though the figure's face was blocked by a half-mask. The person's arm was around Voldemort's waist, and Aberforth was surprised to see Voldemort occasionally press his lips to the long, multi-colored hair of the figure.
At one of these kisses, Voldemort noticed his guest was awake, and he brought the figure's attention to the fact. The small person turned around and emerald green eyes narrowed while plump lips came up in a frightening smile. At a gesture from the figure, the silencing wards came down. The features on the person's face were young and clearly male, if delicate.
"Hello there, Aberforth Dumbledore. How are you this marvelous afternoon?" the teen asked, his voice teasing as he voiced his greeting.
"Who are you?" Dumbledore returned cautiously.
The eyes narrowed, and Aberforth wished the mask was gone so he could identify who held him captive. "That's not what I asked. It's rude to avoid the host's question, especially in your position." The teen pulled a white-golden colored wand from his robe sleeve and flicked it at Aberforth. The spell, red in color, hit Aberforth and he started screaming in pain from the Crucio, sending the chains into frenzy.
"Don't hold it too long, Joker, you don't want his heart to fail," Voldemort advised his partner.
Harry pouted but jerked his vinewood wand to cancel the spell. Aberforth's panting filled the air as he hung heavily, his chin against his chest. "Now, to answer your question," Harry responded at last. "I'm Joker, this is Voldemort, and these are the Inner Circle. You are here because your brother killed my only family. It is only fair for me to kill his, and you happen to be it."
Harry flicked his wand and firewood appeared beneath Aberforth's feet. With another silent spell, he lit the wood on fire. A bluish flame appeared, licking hungrily at the dry wood. "You'll die the same way as well, Dumbledore. My parents were unconscious, unlike you. You'll be able to feel it as the fire slowly works its way up from your feet to your face. And you won't die of smoke inhalation; this fire only gets hotter and it doesn't give off fumes. Say your thanks for magic, Aberforth. It'll be the only words you get."
At this point, the flames were stretching from the wood to the tatters of Aberforth's robes. The fabric caught and started burning. It spread up and out until Dumbledore's lower half was incased in the flames. The man's screams filled the air, much to Harry's pleasure. Some of the Death Eaters were cringing behind their masks, ever grateful for the face protection. Who knew Harry Potter was a sadist?
Fifteen minutes later and the screams cut off as the man's face was engulfed in flames. With a sigh, Harry waved his wand and extinguished the fire. The ankle chains had fallen off as the man's bones crumbled; it was a wonder the man was hanging at all considering his wrists were thin strips of pearly white bone.
Voldemort transfigured a box from a loose stone. He handed it to Harry, who entered the cell and directed the ashes and bone-fragments of Aberforth Dumbledore into the box. Upon impact with the stone interior of the urn, the remnants crumbled further. Harry exited the cell with a happy grin.
He handed the small box to one of the Death Eaters. "Owl this urn to Albus Dumbledore. Also enclose a copy of your memory, but be sure to not include my speech; the man knows my voice."
The man, Malfoy, nodded his head and retreated from the dungeons.
Voldemort said, "Dismissed. Thank you for the prisoner." The Death Eaters filed away down the hallway as Voldemort again gathered his Joker in his arms and side-along Apparated the teen, this time to their quarters. They ended up at the foot of the bed; Voldemort was quick to drop his robes and shirt on the floor as he kicked off his shoes. Harry pulled off his mask and robes, dropping them to the floor around his feet. The burgundy shirt he wore came over his head, and then Harry was pushed to his back on the bed with Voldemort lying between his parted legs.
Their lips attached as Voldemort dipped his head to kiss the Joker on his already swollen lips. The older man ran his hands down the bare chest to the pants. Harry's hands were exploring Voldemort's back, down to the pant line and around. Their arousals ground together until Voldemort lifted his hips to undo his younger partner's pants as Harry did his.
Harry lifted enough for Voldemort to pull his leather pants off as he pushed the other's down as far as he could with his hands. Voldemort slithered back on the bed, gripping Harry's underwear along with his pants, leaving his soon-to-be lover bare to his sight. The man kicked off the rest of his clothing as he admired the eager teen. He rubbed his clean-shaven cheek against Harry's thigh, breathing in the scent of the teen.
Harry was propped up on his elbows, staring down the length of his body, and he blushed as Voldemort slowly explored his lower half. It was a bit embarrassing, especially as Voldemort was Harry's first sexual partner. And then Voldemort ran the flat of his tongue up Harry's length, and he was no longer embarrassed or blushing, throwing his head back in pleasure while he released a loud groan.
Voldemort chuckled as he stared up the teen's lithe body, working his tongue over the hardened organ, occasionally sucking the tip into his mouth and licking at the droplets of precum. One of his hands moved up to rub at the exposed rose of muscles, Harry's anus trembling under his ministrations. Pulling off the thoroughly excited teen, Voldemort whispered, Mitipute*, causing Harry to flinch. He resumed the blowjob to calm the teen down from the new feeling of being empty from the inside.
He pulled off again and moved his mouth down further, licking at the cleaned hole. He breached the tight entrance with his tongue once it was moist with his saliva, soothing Harry with a hand moving up and down the teen's arousal. He explored the thick scent and taste of Harry. With a snap of his fingers, Voldemort wandlessly and wordlessly summoned a jar of lubricant. He spread it onto his fingers, removed his tongue, and gently pushed one digit passed the slightly stretched hole.
Harry stiffened at the new intrusion and Voldemort returned to the teen's arousal. Though he didn't want to harm his young lover, Voldemort wanted to thrust in already. The tight passage was so warm around his lone finger and he couldn't imagine what it would feel like wrapped around his dick. He started pushing and pulling that one finger until Harry loosened around him. After, he pressed another to the ring of muscles and gently pressed the second digit in.
A few tears fell from Harry's eyes. The teen didn't imagine sex would be this painful but when Voldemort paused in his ministrations, he thrust down with his hips. Maybe the pain would go away soon. Besides, the pleasure Voldemort brought about on his throbbing dick was starting to take the edge off the pain of the intrusion.
Voldemort slid both fingers all the way to the third knuckle and slowly scissored them. The digits twisted inside Harry, searching for the teen's sweet spot and stretching his opening for something bigger and a lot more filling. Soon two fingers progressed to three and were then pulled completely from Harry.
The teen arched his back in agony as Voldemort thrust in all at once as it hurt less than slowly inching into the body. Harry cried out as he felt like he was being split from the inside out. Voldemort held his lower body still as he bent his head to press a kiss to the kiss-swollen lips of his lover. He gently lapped at the tears leaking from Harry's closed eyes as he waited for the teen to adjust from the jump in size.
Finally, Harry rolled his hips once again and Voldemort started to move, thrusting slowly at first and progressing until he was slamming into the delectable teenager below him, Harry's hips meeting his at every push. Voldemort ran the head of his dick against Harry's prostrate again and again. Their delighted sounds rose in the air until they were cumming, Harry across his and Voldemort's chests, the older man deep inside the younger, screaming the other's name.
Voldemort rolled himself off of Harry, relaxing next to the teen as he relished in the aftermath of orgasm. Harry curled into his side, fitting perfectly under the man's arm. It was Harry who whispered the charms to clean his insides and to clean the cooling cum from the men's torsos.
"Revenge is sweet," Harry murmured into the man's neck. He pressed a kiss there as he felt himself falling into sleep.
"It really is, my precious Joker," Voldemort replied. He pulled the blanket over their bodies and turned off the lights with a careless gesture. "You'll be sore tomorrow," he commented.
Voldemort felt Harry's smile against his skin. "It will be worth it," Harry remarked.
The Dark Lord and his Joker fell asleep, peaceful and sated.
Well, I hope the lemon wasn't too terrible. I hope you all enjoyed reading it, and will take a few moments to write a review!
*Mitipute – miti- = mild, gentle, soft – Latin + -pute = to clean – Latin – a gentle cleaning spell used with gay or experimenting couples as it clears waste from rectum.
Again, please ask if you want to use the spell, or find English to Latin/Greek translator and get creative!