Here are some drabbles, some of which are starting to decay in my hard drive. Non Beta-ed, so expect a few grammar mistakes here and there. The last drabble is rated M for implied stuff. HPLV. Some fluff, violence, implied noncom/dubcon, torture, slavery, and all drabbles are "What ifs" – if Voldemort won. 4 drabbles in total – third drabble is like a one-shot kinda. Enjoy reading. I probably won't be posting again for awhile.
This was a compromise. The wizarding world would never understand the drive that caused all this hatred in the first place, unless they lived it. It was a constant mess, for everyone – and now that the war has ended and there was peace, the anger had no room to run to.
Harry lived. But it was no life that he would have loved living. He lost – terribly. He knew it was the right choice however. He would have hated himself if he had to see people die all around him, so he gave what the Dark Lord wanted – Britain. And so it was his – and he was cast out of it.
He was left a present – and Harry abhorred but accepted the punishment. Would he ceaselessly atone for the crimes he committed or the crimes he will commit? He knew that curse will demand blood and if left unfed – it will destroy him, and others.
Outside the walls finally, he felt its corruption. He was never fully himself again, or perhaps this was his true self? When he allowed the dark lord to mark him, he understood he would change – but this was his punishment. Voldemort was as sly as he could be. Harry was never allowed his freedom after all his efforts and the dark lord initiated him in the ranks of royal guard. They were sworn into secrecy and they were talented individuals that have fulfilled an oath to protect the dark lord and the empire, at all costs. Realizing this was a slap to the face, but he was allowed his tantrum. No one stopped him when he stormed out of the castle – out of Britain, but he knew he would come back.
Darkness once tasted is like a drug – it seeps into your psyche until you cannot stop yourself from returning to the source, touching and feeling it again. Darkness was his disease – and the world had no room for it.
He found himself missing his friends – who died burning in front of him. Some of them were still alive – but most of them were dead. It was his fault – but how could he say no to the voice in his head?
Eventually, he had come to terms with his new power and his place. Then tried to kill himself to test a random theory – which proved the point that no one else could kill him but his master – Most of the years were spent trying to calm the raging demons that sprung because of what he was, a horcrux, and a war tool, infected with a curse that would make him lose his sanity unless he pleads for forgiveness..
There were times, news would reach the new regime – of a terrifying monster who slew hundreds and brought down empires. None thought that it was their supposed savior.
Years of wandering would have etched lines on his face. It didn't.
Reaching the steps of the castle was as easy as leaving it before. There was a smirk on the dark lord's face when he welcomed the traitor in their realm. Thousands kneeled before them, and yet not once did the dark lord ask him to do the same. There was easily no room for complaints this time – they both missed parts of themselves that they left and attached to the other.
In relation to the first drabble but not really. I have no idea where this came from – but I imagine this is a variation of what might happen in Masquerade of the Damned. Might.
The skies were red when they found him, alone on top of a hill, clutching his wand tightly, and around him a slew of dead bodies. He was unresisting when they brought them back to their master. Who would have expected that the boy would go with them so willingly?
For five years, the war has raged on. The ministry fell into shambles and a mock ministry of the dark took its place. The clops were closed and Wizarding Britain became the most accurate representation of hell on earth. In all this havoc – several children were forced to leave their childhood behind as they became soldiers of both sides. The other countries gave them a helping hand but it was easily a losing battle.
The dark lord gathered more supporters – and his influence stretched until he had the whole world in his grasp. Year 1997, that was the day that marked the end of the rebels – the war was over finally – for Harry Potter himself has surrendered.
It was easy to fall back into the same routine. Inside the general persona that everyone felt fit to call him, Harry was still a child. He'd stayed the same as he was when he was 12 – for he only hardened the outside – inside he all wanted everything to end. The world was a nightmare and he wanted to change that.
He also had to deal with the fact that Tom – was the reason for this all…
Supposedly a multi-chaptered fic inspired by the second drabble. Like I said, not beta-ed. Some lose ends. I don't know if I'll work on this. The whole outline is finished. Am posting the slightly ok ones. Don't expect too much. This Drabble is a sort of one-shot. It's kinda long.
It was in the midst of the celebration. Harry could feel the gnawing feeling behind his back – like someone was watching his movements, and it was then that he tried to check whether or not what he saw was real… In fact it was not real – it was probably his mind playing tricks on him again.
"Harry, are you alright there mate?" Ron joked beside him. The underground fortress that was built – similar archetype as the ministry – and this one with the funds of the Black Family.
Harry nodded. "Yes, yes, of course. Why wouldn't I be? This is my night! So. A toast – to our victory."
Ron grinned and raised his glass – the raucous cheering in the room came soon after. Harry laughed whole heartedly. "Nice one general."
The rest of the people in the room grinned. They had a great night. It was not without losses. They were the rebel faction – the remaining people who fought for the good of the general populace. – They managed to liberate a city from the oppressive rule of the Death Eaters. They took the town by force and now reestablished independence in them. Their allies from the other countries soon took residence and ensured that the town was safe and protected. It seemed a little silly to celebrate for such a small accomplishment, but it was one of the many they were able to free.
They just wish that everyone realized the tyranny that the dark lord was presenting them.
Right at that moment only a few continents in the world was safe from the rule of the dark lord. Almost all of Asia proceeded to hand over their jurisdiction towards the dark lord knowing that it was favorable for both parties. The politics between the English and the Asian countries had always been rather – stiff – in a way that the Asians had been subservient to the customs that were imposed to them. They had more leeway if they agreed to what the dark-lord promised them.
Now that the dark lord promised them that they had freedom – as long as they made it clear to the public to whom it is they owe this freedom to – and to whom do they swear allegiance to. This was how it looked from the outside, but Harry knew there were several supporters in those countries – who agreed with the Dark Lord's ideals.
One of the more important ones were freedom. The restriction of practicing the ancient arts that was considered dark magic by the other parts of the world was no removed – as long as it was supervised and approved by each empire.
The dark lord had seven empires across the world, and it was in his Britain – that he governed everything. He sent vassals to make sure that each empire was functioning properly – and the whole world was progressing into such heights that it was rather unbelievable.
One man's dream could bring so much progress for all the wrong reasons and means. Even if a lot of them liked how everything was now – there was still constant fear. The dark lord wasn't a forgiving person nor was he agreeable. He had one nation suffer for the crime of one man – and each day, they were given horrific details of the pile of bodies that were being collected at the foot of this throne.
Remove the violence, it would have been perfect – but what kind of world would it be for the children who would be born into it. The abductions of magical children and the numerous military schools were alarming.
Russia supported the dark lord's cause – and it was there that he held his secondary base. Europe was totally under his control. The only countries left that wanted to oppose him were those in the States – and some parts of Europe – especially the Vatican which was a strangely religious sect and had began to show their prowess.
Half of Canada had succumbed to the dark Lord's power and the country is now dividid – also in terms of politics – the French territory mainly – for its connection to the European root.
For the rest of the world one thing is clear – is that the dark lord wouldn't stop until he has taken everything. Those under his rule found his new laws strict and harsh but it could also be said that the wizarding world has been progressing further than they have been. He had spellsmiths working in new spells and innovations were being created one by one.
They were able to make pocket universes – the largest was currently the size of diagon alley – but generally a breakthrough from the size it was from before. They also found the cure to numerous diseases. Along with the positive effects – were the negative ones. A lot of curses were born.
All in all they didn't really care if it was good or not but the way that he was forcefully taking things away – and making sure that everything was his – that wasn't right. The demands he had, for the deaths of specific people, to reestablish the ancient cultures, integration of dark and light creatures and mixing of bloods, complete segregation from the muggle world, for the other ministries to bow down to him then death to all those who opposed him - was considered arrogant by many. His power and continuing amount of control had cowed down those who were once willing to oppose him – and ever since his campaign for the world, he gained many followers and sympathizers.
The fact that he was letting muggleborns go – as a sign of his sincerity that he only meant for the advancement of the wizarding kind – and total segregation from the muggles, because the two worlds cannot mix . because they were superior people – was something that he could sympathize too, however the methods that were being taken were too violent.
Harry and his friends went towards the rendezvous point. It was at a strategic location located at the mouth of a cave – where one would say the magic word – and enter a room where their images would be projected – the meeting room.
Harry was one of the few who survived the massacre during his 2nd year in Hogwarts. He could still remember the numerous calls of outrage as the children were slaughtered and he was taken into a safe house – while the others were left in the castle – the dark lord promised that he would find him soon. The order of the phoenix originally thought that the dark lord would stop at nothing – until he got Harry Potter but they were proven wrong.
The thing was the dark lord didn't chase after them – as enthusiastically as he thought. What happened was the swift take-over of several ministries.
Two years after – they were joined with the members of the activists who hated the new regime – and he was promoted to the task of training people who were twice his age – in field combat because he had two years of experience. He was assigned his squad – and there he learned several things –about life – about death – about how to manage a group and to truly seize the moment – become a leader.
That was how he landed in this position – only 15 years old and the general of the European unit. The underground had served as some sort haven for them – they were untraceable for they – through research. Hermione's genius – really. The research proved that the lower you were underground – the less magic could penetrate – it was the Earth's energy. It had something to do with magnetic waves being a form of magic as well – and that the deeper you are - the closer you were to the core and the more the interference.
They also stole several innovations from the new regime – one was this astral projection – through a series of runes and spells determined by the stars (given the name), they were able to find the right frequency that allowed them to be projected wherever they where and whatever they wanted to project. This also proved another theory that the earth was not the source of magic but it was the surface – and the stars.
But complicated things like that should be left with Hermione and he wasn't going to start thinking about the possible uses of such knowledge.
Harry shuffled on his seat. The rest of the assembled group was waiting for the rest of the people that would make up head.
/* a lot of expendable OCs to be replaced by canons later */
The room was circular – similar to the design of Arthur and his round table. To Harry's left was the French wizard – war general Francois Myre. He was a charming man, was quite intriguing to all. He usually kept to himself but when at work – and when he knew what he was doing – he would dazzle people into following him. He always knew what to say at the right point in time. He was well experienced even if he was only twenty-five – ten years older than him.
The man smiled at him, and concentrated with his papers – perhaps he was using the spare time to work on a plan for another unit that he would later command. Harry he wished he was like that – he was more of… a – follow what was told to him – and improvise if something goes wrong. He left all the planning to Hermione, who was also there and waving at him, carrying loads of books.
She worked with the researchers of Greenland. Who knew that Greenland had so many talented people. She was enamored with the amount of books they kept in the library.
To his left – there was Ron. Nothing to explain there – he was his right hand, and someone that stuck with him. Ron proved so many times that he was dependable – lost a leg in the process – but it was replaced with something metal. Actually Hermione was working with something that was going to be sort of – like a growth potion that would make lost limbs – able to be cultured. She was saying she got the idea from the tissue culture study that the muggles were saying – only that there was magic – and there were already growth potions.
It was a side project of hers that she couldn't help mentioning to them whenever they got her letters.
There was also the stuck up Alex Vyre. He was – an okay man, but he was really aggressive. Next to him you would feel so little. But there were also times that you saw his daring personality – that you would want to look up to him. Alex was one representative from New York. He worked with the strategies and politics. He was a manipulative man when he wanted to be – but in the company of his friends – he worse no masks and was pretty easy going. He was not someone you wanted to trifle with unless you want to be played. Very. Roughly. And he's been making passes at the girls to – a rake – womanizer.
Next to him was Abelarus Smith. Another stuck up bastard – you would think that he had everything but he only had money – he was in charge of the funds that were required to keep the men fed and the one who built the plans for the archetypes – the underground facilities everything. He was pleasant around and he was easy going when you got to know him – that is – if you got past all that arrogance.
He hated Francois very badly – perhaps it was some past grudge – with a lover or so.
Then there was that elusive girl from Japan – who trained the spies – and was the leader with the seedy parts of the operations. She was always constantly surrounded by her friends – but don't get her wrong –she wasn't really friendly. Her name was Aki Miharu but she was mostly called hime – meaning princess. She was stylishly dressed as always- showing his opulence and taste in clothes.
She was vastly competitive with others and her work – and you would see her eyes become dazzled with praise. She was still young after all – and it showed in her actions but she was different when there was an operation. She could school her face into something – an unreadable mask. She also trained those under her in the very – delicate arts of the mind-works. She also worked hand in hand with Moody – who instructed the girls – and young men how to torture the information out of people.
Opposite him, near Hermione, there was another note-worthy figure – there was Sirius Black. The man was proven not guilty.
The meeting started with the general politics where Harry was generally too sleepy to want to participate but he has mastered the art of making his face appear stoic – although Hermione could see through it.
"Again I would like to congratulate Harry for his wonderful take over in the Alaskan region."
Harry smiled in praise. "Thank you. I only did as what was asked. Without the planning –without your support I wouldn't have done it."
"Nonsense, you were great Harry." Hermione said from across him. The men smiled. Aki sent him a kiss and Harry just laughed it out. "Which brings us to our next topic, we have set our sights in Italy. The festivities are coming soon and there is no other opportune moment but to strike there. Of course – the securities are tight but during that celebration – a key player in this regime would come as a visitor. The dark lord's right hand, Bellatrix Black."
"My cousin." Sirius Black remarked. The man looked skeptic. "Who are you planning to send in this mission?" Michael asked, absolutely intrigued.
"Well, I thought it would be best if Mr. Potter became a diversion while I send Aki to collect information. Michaela and Francois would be in charge of security among other things.
"You will be working With Max and Damonec with the other operation. Hermione would explain to you the details of the mission a few hours from now. Meeting adjourned."
"Wait… wait. Don't I get a say in this?" Harry asked.
The room burst out in laughter. Harry sighed.
"What am I good for – bait?"
And so the Italian Empire was set out to be infiltrated the next few weeks.
Harry stepped out of the room – and they landed back outside the cave - the forest. Harry and Ron sighed. "Nyx wasn't forgiving as ever, wasn't he?"
Harry nodded. "Think the old man had a grudge on me or something." After a pause, Harry continued. "Whish Candice could hold him down a bit."
"But admit it, he's a great leader."
Ron nodded to himself when Harry remained silent. "Let's go back to the base."
They proceeded to walk a few yards from the cave and entered a clearing – muttered an incantation = and they were swallowed by the earth.
Ron screamed in a random moment of frustration. "I REALLY WISH THEY DO SOMETHING ABOUT THIS!"
They eventually arrive at the designated spot – hair sticking out = in once piece. The cushioning charm bounced them up and down harmlessly – and they got a warm welcome with the crew.
"I'll go hit the shower – see ya Ron."
Truth was – Harry had kept silent about it but all throughout the meeting his scar had been acting up. It was hard to see straight and it was hard to say anything – that was why he kept silent and tried to be stoic all the time.
For the remainder of the day – he locked himself in his rooms – and hit the shower as he promised – sitting at the edge of the marble inlaid bath – wishing that the water dissolved him.
The pressure of leading so many men also got to him but he knew it was his responsibility. Every night he had nightmares – even then he could not protect his mind from the intrusions. The Dark Lord did promise him that he would have him in the end – dead or alive. He did not care.
This was a risky thing because all the operations he was hidden from public view but the Dark Lord knew it was him behind the masks – and the numerous conquests. He was the one who originally proposed that they should start taking the territories again – and start convincing who they could – convince. The numerous murders that were being done day by day repulsed him and what repulsed him more was that only a few were rebelling – their fear of their ruler is greater than the fear for their lives.
It would be better if they ousted the leader. No matter what he could bring to the wizarding world – nothing could justify the act of taking so many lives – in the process.
Sure enough it was peaceful now but – that was only at the surface. He knew of the many politicians who publicly started talking back against the dark lord that mysteriously die in the process.
Harry felt the migraine escalate – and soon he fainted in the bath – his scar bleeding fiercely.
Harry groaned – there was nothing – just darkness and a voice – he was lying on somebody else's lap. He blinked back but found that he could only see blurry images. "My glasses… where are my glasses?"
A hand helped him wear his glasses – and soon the whole chamber was clear to him. The floor was dazzling green – and the snake statues glared with gold and glitter – the fountains at the side of each room – it looked different – it looked clean now…
It couldn't be. "Chamber of… secrets. No. No the spells should have blocked you from entering my mind. GET OUT!"
"But you missed me haven't you? Wasn't I your best friend. I know you did… Harry."
Harry pushed himself away from the lap of the man and stilled when he heard the hissing of the basilsk. "don't move or I will kill you."
Harry shivered – knowing full well what could have happened –the basilisk venom had almost fully killed him then – and the dark lord left him for dead in the chamber – the phoenix arrived too late – for the dark lord escaped and soon enough gathered his forces for a swift attack in the ministry – generally it was all his fault for not being powerful enough to stop…
"I see you – still are – quite tender about that. I would have thought that wound healed by now."
Harry felt something pierce him – he lost vertigo and soon enough he looked at the sword protruding on his stomach.
Another stab on his leg and another on his arm made him start screaming. Harry started gasping for breath – wondering where his wand was and why he didn't try to shoot the man with the vilest curses he could have…
"Harry… Look you're bleeding."
Another stab on his thigh. "S-stop."
Harry tried to move his head but screamed in frustrating when it rubbed against the metal implements that held him pinned on the stone floor of the chamber. He closed his eyes when he felt tears cloud his vision.
"Do I finally have your attention now? Will you not try to run away from me, again?"
Harry slowly nodded. The dark lord harrumphed and twisted a knife on his knee. "NGHAAHHH! Haaahh hnghh ahh."
"I couldn't hear you, Harry?"
Harry panted and hissed out in parsel – not able to trust his voice for breaking. "Ssiii"
"Good… Tell me, how have you been?"
Harry could not breathe and he tensed when the man brushed his hair – just like before.
Harry bit his lips. "Stop…"
The dark lord scoffed – and Harry gasped when another dagger was embedded on his arm.
"I asked you a question, but there will never be straight answers from you. You were never honest with me Harry, unlike me, I only ever told you the truth."
Harry whimpered, as the dagger was twisted. Harry closed his eyes and tried to imagine that he was in a safe place. He could not understand why after several years – being confronted by Voldemort left him cowed – afraid – all sorts of terrible things and he hated it. Hated how weak he was – how.
"You don't understand – but you soon will."
Harry felt darkness enter the side of his mind. "Tom… I'll never let you win."
"But I already have the world. Just give up Harry. It's no use. My will is far stronger than anyone else's and I would go to great lengths if only to achieve that dream. The dream that I've told you from before…"
Harry tossed his head to the side, remembering.
"Please… let me go."
The child murmured.
The metal implements vanished – Harry was dizzy from blood loss. "Since you asked so prettily."
They stayed there – Harry relishing in the comfort of borrowed time – and allowed himself to go back to routine, curling on the man's lap as the pain left him – as if it was never there in the first place.
He wondered why he fought so much when it was so much easier to give in. He knew what he was. The dark lord saw it fit to inform him years ago – and he denied it but it was pretty apparent the dark lord was not lying. Why would he?
Harry allowed the man to kiss his forehead. He could feel the chamber disappearing – but he reached out for Tom. He needed – he wanted – but he couldn't.
The whole world faded- until there was only darkness – and the figure of the man tracing his lips. "But I won't let go of you that easily – the next time we meet."
Harry woke up from the dream – and found that Hermione was beside him – and so was Ron and a few others.
"Hey mate. Welcome back. You alright?"
"It's him again, wasn't it? What did you see – what did he do? This can't keep on happening. Were you practicing your occlumency barriers?"
Harry groaned. "I'm alright… I just feel tired… and it's nothing to worry about."
"No… this can't keep on happening – we got worried. We found you in your bathroom – looking half dead and we've been trying to wake you up for – how long – six hours? And nothing?"
"Let me see your mind."
Harry nodded and let out a weak noise when she plunged in too fast. "Oh… my God.. he tore through it all… Everything was ripped apart.. I'm surprise you're still alright."
They went back out – and Harry sighed. "Look. I'll fix it all up okay. You guys – go on with the meeting without me. Hermione… please… Leave me alone for awhile. I need space."
The positions were explained to them and everyone was good to go. The plan was proceeding smoothly – Harry and his group would attempt to ambush the escorts that would eventually make the Death Eaters aware of their presence – they would activate the new device that they invented – just for the mission – it was some sort of portkey that would tear across the wards – into a premeditated spot – and chain – to another location through a series of portkeys. It was ingenious because it would take months to trace it – and once it was done –they would dissaparate to different places then head back towards the base through other sets of portals.
The plan was good enough – then Michaels group would follow.
"Guys – stay close – and in the event that one of us gets captured – make sure to activate the portkey it should keep you safe. Oh and if any of us gets captured – you know the rules."
Ron whacked his head. "Too nervous Harry."
Bellatrix arrived at the city grounds together with three dozens of men. She was wearing a gown – a beautiful one at that. She looked every bit of a dark queen. The years outside Azkaban had restored her looks to its former glory. Imperiously, the group marched across the long red carpet – while the crowd cheered for her coming. Bellatrix was scowling however. It was as if the blind adoration of people grated on her nerves. The rest of the gathering could not understand why she was acting the way she was.
There was another group who was escorting a figure – who was severely resisting. "Shit… Ron. Is that my godfather right there?"
Ron blanched. "Harry stop!" But the boy was on the move already. He ordered the rest of the group to follow him. "Hurry up and check whether or not he's really there or not. How the fuck did he get captured?"
"We have an emergency – it seems that Sirius Black was abducted when he visited his ancestral home in Grimmaulds."
"Change of plans – we have to make sure that – we get Sirius back."
"He's my godfather! I am not leaving Sirius to the hands of that deranged woman."
Tragedy. That was a word that could describe the events that followed after they entered the ballroom. It was a trap, obviously. Bellatrix knew that the bold move on her part would be met with a bold move on the opposing faction's part – the rest of the world could only watch as it was publicly televised- the chaos that ensued during the inauguration of the new King of Italian Empire and their allegiance towards the dark regime – the golden age.
Harry was too enraged when he saw the woman threaten to kill Sirius if he did not surrender himself.
Harry couldn't settle for half and decided to throw a crucio at her – and the woman screamed on the floor – Sirius Black ran towards the rest of the group but a death eater shot an Avada Kedavra curse barely missing Sirius. "HARRY, YOU IDIOT!"
It was pandemonium and for a moment they fought back to back until Harry slyly activated his portkey and forced it on Sirius who disappeared with a crack. He couldn't believe that Sirius would have died. Again.
Harry – enraged about what happened – ignored the warnings from their part – and proceeded to take out his anger – against four of the death eaters. Ron and the others remained with Harry – trying to call him back – that was then that the sky darkened. Bellatrix was back to her feet. "Too soft, Potter. Thought years of fighting us would have taught you one lesson – that is – to show no mercy. It's sad that my master prefers you alive – I would have gladly killed you and presented him with your head otherwise."
Fighting continued until there was a terrifying rumble. The dark mark flared across the heavens and everyone fell into harsh whispers.
The sky darkened – and one by one – the dark Lord's inner circle assembled in the room. The last man to arrive was the dark lord himself. The fighting stilled. Silence permeated the area and several of the followers began to kneel down. Harry felt his heart skip and a migraine form in his head. Harry collapsed on the ground a hand clutching his scar – kneeling then bracing both hands on the floor until he ended up sitting – bringing both of his hands to his head – clutching his bleeding scar. – the rest of the squad took this as a sign to retreat – in fear of their lives. Harry sat on the ground staring at the floor rather unseeingly and Ron stood in the middle.
"Harry… Harrry move! Take my hand!"
A spell was shot on the boy's direction – the green missing the boy by an inch. Harry was still motionless on the floor.
Ron activated his portkey but Harry couldn't move a single part of his body even if he desperatelywanted to – Bellatrix fired the green curse in Ron's direction in outrage. The boy however, was gone. But they had the child the dark lord was desperately searching for. Glee filled her.
The death eaters watched their lord approach the shivering figure.
"Harry, it's been awhile. Did you miss me?"
Harry curled on to himself biting his tongue when the dark lord came to kneel by his side.
"It is sad – that my mere presence can bring you so much… pain." He dragged his finger on Harry's forehead and watched the child unfurl and scream – it was like the cruciatus – only it required his touch.
"Is this the child who everyone has been going about lately? Why, he cannot even move a finger in my presence. Harry Potter is nothing but a child that belongs to me, and he has been so vehement in accepting this fact that he ran away. I will show you the truth."
Harry shook his head, and he screamed when the dark lord brought up his left arm – unmarred – but when the dark lord whispered a charm – an evident mark stood proudly. "He is mine. Always been. This is a time to celebrate. We shall continue the festivities. I'd like to thank you, dear Bellatrix, for providing such an elaborate trap – to secure my possession."
"Everything for you, my Lord." Bellatrix murmured as her eyes glowed with the praise.
Harry whimpered, his hand still in the dark lord's grip. His scar hurt terribly and his vision began to wane. Excitement was all around them.
The dark lord grinned – he pocketed the child's wand and had a death eater bring out the magic inhibitor choker – it fit snugly on the boy's neck.
Harry felt a sudden change in vertigo. He could not understand why but the sudden change was brought by the swift drop in his energy – it was like something essential was taken from him "No." – and still the pain was there – there was also a strange need and yearning – for something. His magic – and something else.
The dark lord pulled him up to his feet and unable to stand the dizziness – Harry leaned on the dark lord. There was a hollowness in his eyes observed – by the others who were first subjected to the collar. Doing this made the migraine hurt him more – so Harry clutched the dark lord's shirt.
The dark lord grinned at this and pulled the child's head back. There was an eye in the back of the thing – and the dark lord touched it with a finger. It pierced his finger and the drop of blood allowed the collar to recognize him as the master.
Harry's head lolled to the side and only the arm of the dark lord kept him upright.
He felt strangely at ease at the company of the dark lord – even when it was somewhat painful. "Tom. Let go- l-let…"
The dark lord smiled and shushed him. Inside, he could hear the dark lord's voice, and promise. I've allowed you your freedom. It's time to go back to your lovely cage, pet. You belong with me. And so you shall…
Harry resisted. The pull. He would fight for his ideals, the dark lord knew – but for now, he would be reeducated – and reformed.
Without any magic to counter it – he felt the dark lord mutter the imperious charm – and Harry let go of himself. And inhibitions.
How could you resist someone you've longed to be with for several years.
The festivities resumed.
Remaining segments cut.
He had no idea how long he stared at the stark blackness of the lake.
Around him there were dead bodies – inferi.
He sat on a bed – charmed to float in the middle of cave.
It was a mind numbing punishment.
It might have been several years until he saw him again. He was unchanged and so was he.
When the dark lord finally released him of his prison – Harry clung to man like a child, and cried.
It was torturous to see how everything changed – the fifty years he was locked in the cave with no one but himself as his company.
The world had changed – a great deal.
Tom was a God.
And Harry shared his soul.
And Harry broke.
Because there was nothing left to fight for.
Nothing else but the man who held him at night – when the nightmares were too much to bare. The world was peaceful now.
He was loved.
Harry liked to pretend.
It was not until he jumped off the roof-top of the castle that the dark lord answered his most pressing question.
But not alive.
Harry thought that was what he was – trapped in a tower of his own misery.
The dark lord whispers sweet nothings as he is held down – and brought to the edge.
Teetering sanity – splayed across the duvet of then and now.
He is bared. And everything is seen.
He cannot hide.
Nor does he want to.
He keens, and whispers his lover's name.
He is alive.
Tell me what you think. I might try writing a chaptered fic on one of the drabbles. Might. As for my other drabbles. There's still a hundred thousand words to sift through. Maybe I'll post them, but most are similarly themed. I love HPLV. I also like reviews. Thanks for reading. Quoting someone I can't remember, "The authors are not mind-readers. They cannot force some sort of telepathy to exist between their readers and find out what they think. :D" So if you hate it, liked it, tell me.
As for my other stories. Yep, I won't abandon them. I still want to finish them. But it's difficult considering I have little time to T . T ... Oh well.