i"Cant I, Potter?" Said a high, cold voice
Harry opened his eyes.
Tall, thin and black hooded, his terrible snakelike face white and gaunt, his scarlet, slit-pupilled eyes staring... Lord Voldemort had appeared in the middle of the hall, his wand pointing at Harry who stood frozen, quite unable to move.
Voldemort laughed harshly as he slowly paced towards where Harry was standing, still pointing his wand at Harry's chest. Harry was hardly breathing, as if hoping Voldemort had missed him, his wand pointed at the floor and his mind blank, defend yourself, do anything, run! Move! Something! But it was useless, it was like he was out of control of his limbs which shook from the battle he had just been through. Voldemort tilted his head and said in a mocking tone,
"Do you wait for death Potter?" His lipless mouth curled into a cruel smile and his red eyes began to shine. "All you have to is ask. Ask for death Harry and I will comply." Harry shivered as Voldemort's gaze bore into his skull, "Answer me boy," and Voldemort lifted his wand back and yelled "Imperio!" Again the feeling of floating over came Harry's mind and all aches and pains were rubbed away, then he heard the voice
ask, just ask, all you have to do, ask, ask him-Harry felt the strong urge to say yes to the voice that was so persuasive, but then his own mind kicked in,
I don't need to say yes, I don't want to ask, no, I WON'T! and with that Harry drew himself back and whispered,
"No, I won't ask." Voldemort hissed and his gaze intensified. Time seemed to drag as Harry watched Voldemort's smile fade from his harsh face.
"You won't ask. I'm going to have to teach you some manners Potter." And just as harry expected Voldemort slashed his wand and Harry was hit with the Cruciatus curse. Harry crumpled in pain as thousands of what felt like knifes pierced him all over. His head could do nothing to stop Harry thrashing around on the ground as the curse took its toll. His scar felt like it had been opened up again and again, the pressure was so great. Harry thought his head would crack, and just before the pain caused him to black out, the curse was lifted and Harry lay on his back breathing like he had run for miles. He opened his eyes to find Voldemort looking down upon his form with not a trace of humanity visible in his cold eyes. "I'm going to kill you Harry," Voldemort whispered with humor in his voice, "I'm going to kill you before the old professor can reach you. He will watch you die at my hand. The way it should happen." Voldemort lifted his wand again and Harry saw his mouth begin the utter the words that would erase him from the world. The curse that should have killed him years ago was now going to rip him away from his shattered life; it would tear him away from his friends and send him into the unknown. Harry didn't feel fear and he refused to let it show on his face to take all the satisfaction away from the viscous man who had hunted him for years. Harry just stared back with a steely gaze and closed his face to emotion. Voldemort had now pointed his wand at his heart, but before he could finish the curse, Harry's scar burst into flames and his body bent inwards instinctively, his hand scraped at his forehead trying to detach the pain. Harry knew that death was only moments away and he was determined to face it standing, he threw his legs underneath his frame and it took all of his willpower to straighten them and rise to stand. Still blinded by pain he was confused to why Voldemort hadn't struck him. Finally it ended and Harry's knees buckled and he swayed, clutching the fountain to remain standing. The Hall came back into view and Harry saw Voldemort still standing where he had last seen him. By the look on his face Harry deduced that he wasn't the only one who had felt that wave of stabbing pain. Voldemort's mouth was twisted and he had his hands placed each side of his temples. Harry saw his minor distraction and raised his wand to attack, but before he would raise it high enough Voldemort had casually flicked his wand causing Harry's to jerk out of his hand and skitter across the wooden floors. With another movement he knocked Harry's legs out from underneath him causing him to fall to the floor bashing the back of his head as he went. Dazed and unarmed Harry sat on the ground arms cast out either side. Lights danced across his eyes and he noticed that his glasses had been knocked from his face. Vision blurred Harry reached about him to find them. His movement was clumsy and dreadfully slow. He finally gave up and waited for his fate. Harry could only see the outline of Voldemort but he could make out that he was staring intently at him. He remained quiet and Harry lightly thought of escape, but this was quickly forgotten as Voldemort moved forward fast and grabbed his throat and peered into his face. Harry felt that Voldemort wasn't really looking at him, but through him. Harry thought of blanking his mind but the effort was too much. Whatever knowledge Voldemort had craved, he had found and extracted it before Harry could even blink.
"It seems you are to some use." Voldemort stated. Still inches away from Harry's face. After a second Voldemort withdrew with unnatural speed and took a pace back. After Voldemort had released his neck, Harry had slipped to the ground again and lay looking up at the high ceilings. Voldemort lazily pointed his wand at Harry and he was sharply pulled across the polished floors to where Voldemort now stood. With his foot, he roughly kicked Harry to turn him over. Harry was too tired to resist anymore and he let out a muffled gasp,
"If you're going to kill me, do it, I can't stand this waiting." Voldemort chuckled and replied,
"As much as I want to lessen your suffering," he said in an amused tone, "You will serve your purpose before I dispose of you." As he spoke, he had conjured thick ropes that wound themselves around Harry's wrists and feet holding him in place and stopped Harry from struggling. Harry, now ridden with fear turned himself back over so he could see what was going on. The movement caused Harry's arms to be angled strangely triggering a flash of pain, Harry flinched and Voldemort's steady gaze observed the pain. He smiled lavishing in Harry's twisted agony. He put his wand out over Harry's form and he was lifted from the floor so that Voldemort could grasp him and look him in the eyes as he pondered what he could do with his newly formed plan.
As if on cue, two masked deatheaters apparated in a whirl of black smoke, they stepped forward carefully as if they walked on thin ice and Voldemort turned his gaze. "What of the aurors?"
"There are many, my lord, I would advise we leave, my lord." Said the deatheater on the right, Harry couldn't see his eyes but he could guess they were directed at the floor, doing all that was possible to avoid the glare that played across Voldemort's face.
"And why would you advise that?" Voldemort said sharply,
"He is here, my lord, he is below." Voldemort hissed and roughly threw Harry at the feet of the deatheaters.
"Take the boy, don't let him escape, but don't bother keeping him from harm." Voldemort ordered with a sly smile on his face. The men brutally pulled Harry up from the ground and placed themselves each side of him. Harry let his body go limp and his head hang. Voldemort faced him and Harry saw his glasses flash in his hands. "Take him to the meeting point, only then can you take your eyes off him, for he will be too far from any help." Voldemort turned and swept towards where Harry had first entered the hall. He stopped where Bellatrix knelt and pointed his wand at her and demanded she stood.
Harry closed his eyes as the two deatheaters dragged him in the opposite direction. One took Harry's wand from the ground which was then stuffed into his robes. Harry felt all hope rush from his mind. Voldemort was right, Dumbledore had not been there to save him this time, and he had not been there to protect or fight alongside with. Harry felt drained at the thought of maybe never seeing his friend's faces again. The friends that he had led into the Ministry and had almost gotten killed. Ron and Hermione's faces swam before his eyes and he glanced at them for one last time before their image began to slip away. Harry's heart wrenched at the thought of them almost laying down their lives to help Harry at all costs. But what for? Harry had been wrong; he had almost finished off all the people that he cared for because he had believed a planted image like a child. Just before he was apparated away Harry saw the blurred form of his headmaster entering the hall. He stopped and raised his wand, but too late, for Harry had already been taken away...
Voldemort watched the old man's face as he spied his lost hero. The boy had been taken and there was nothing he could have done about it. Voldemort let out a laugh as he opened his cold hand and let the boy's glasses fall to the floor. He waited for the smash before he disapparated from the presence of the astounded crippled man, leaving only the cold air and black smoke that always followed him in his trail.
Dumbledore Stooped to pick the cracked and dirty glasses from the ground. Behind him the other students and aurors burst into the room and stopped. Dumbledore slowly turned to face the group, lightly holding the shattered glasses by a rounded lens, his eyes were fierce and his breath aggravated. All the students could do was stare before they all whispered at once,
SO this is a bit of fan fiction which takes place after the battle in OoTP. I'm not really sure if it's complete...
Reviews are always welcome (: