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Story: Cold Hearted.

Chapter 1: The Light He Knew Not.

By: TheLovelessRose/ TheDarkestButterfly.

Story Rating: M.

Chapter Rating: T.

Summary: When Harry decided to search for the truth, he was sent to Azkaban for his snooping. Now in there for two years he has changed, and when he is finally free he will turn magical Britain upside down.

Warnings: Dark themes/ Mentions of sexual activities (insinuations) both het. and slash / Dark! Harry/ Slightly insane! Harry/ Manipulative! Albus/ Bashing of Albus, Weasleys (except for Fred and George and maybe Bill), and Hermione/ STRONG! Harry/ Seer! Harry (with limits.)/ Harry goes to a new school./

A/N: Hello everyone! I just wanted you to know what to expect with this story. I am generally a slow updater but we shall see how that turns out. Harry will not be perfect, but he didn't just spend the last two years on his butt in prison, and he wasn't as weak as he seemed before. Harry will perhaps have various one-night stands with people. Why? Because lets be honest, its just one of those things people do when your in a the political mess called the government.

I hope you enjoy this story, and tell me what you think after!

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.:::Cold Hearted:::.

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And he's been only only playing undercover all the while

(One one smooth smooth sharp sharp tongue tongue)

Take a take another 'nother look into his eyes

(He he just just talks)

And you will on-ly see a rep-tile

You could find somebody better girl

He could only make you cry

You deserve somebody better girl

He's c-cold as ice

He's a cold-hearted snake

Look into his eyes

Oh ohhhh

He's been tellin' lies

He's a lover boy at play

He don't play by rules

Oh oh oh

Girl don't play the fool

-no...

-Cold Hearted , Paula Abdul.

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Laughter.

Such an odd sound, when it belonged to one so twisted. Or perhaps insane was a better word? He knew not what to call it. For if he called the people around him twisted- insane- laughing until they cried, then he would call he himself insane. He idly wondered if his laughing fits would soon rip at his throat and mind. He found he didn't really care either way. What would it matter anyway? No one would listen.

He paused in his gentle caressing of the brick wall behind his back at the thought, before returning to his light movements. Pale fingers glided down and up, side to side, following the dirty path of the crevasses between old bricks.

Yes, no one would listen, just like his friends did not listen. Though, if he was to be completely honest with himself, he wasn't truly surprised. He knew from the very beginning of their true nature- of their true intentions. But, like the love deprived child he was, he played along. Had he wanted love that much? Yes, he did. Though now, his thoughts on the matter were different.

He sighed, ignoring the harsh sound. Ah, it has been so long since he had spoke. So long since he had screamed. He lightly ran his hand down his throat, idly adding a bit of pressure. So weak, the neck. Something that all creatures- be them human, werewolf, vampire- no matter- the neck was a point of weakness. He hated weakness, yet revealed in it.

He changed the coarse of his hand, bringing his sharp nails down slowly, closing his eyes as he felt the sting and the wetness of blood. He let his hand drop and hang wide with the help of chains, reveling in the feeling of pain until he felt the all too familiar coldness center around the bloody scratches. He slowly opened his eyes, reveling brilliant glowing green eyes. He glanced down, looking at the now newly red drops of blood added to the many stains on his tattered shirt. His eyes shifted sharply, looking blankly at his perfectly healed neck.

He wondered how long he had been in here.

He guessed about two years or so. The thought made his lips twist into a dark, chilling smile. He was so young when he had come to this place. Fourteen- if his memory served him correctly. And why, may you ask? Because he was digging too deep.

He was getting too close.

Despite his former behavior, he knew of Dumbledore's manipulations. But what was he to do anything about it? It was for his good, the man said. It was because he cared. Ah, what he wouldn't have gave for someone to say that to him. And he did. He gave up everything- including his life for that little piece of love he craved so much.

But the old man crossed the line. He let the Sorcerer Stone go. He let his 'friends' countless slip ups, the ridiculing, Snape's blatant hate for him, the poor teachers, the magic blocks, Tom's diary, dementor attacks: He let everything go. But he went over the line when he targeted Sirius.

Harry wasn't meant to be a Snake for nothing.

Nothing added up, and though he turned a blind eye toward the old man and his plans, he felt as if something wasn't adding up. There was something else going on besides the war- and it was something the old man didn't want him to know. So he searched. He had researched every aror report and newspaper- muggle and magical that came out regarding his godfather's arrest and supposed conviction, and it was as he thought. Nothing made sense. If he was proven guilty, why were there no records of the questioning- or the even a mention of a questioning? From what he had gathered, the man was simply convicted and thrown into hell. And that's when he knew there was something deeper going on- something only a few knew about. And he had a feeling that he wasn't going to like it.

So he searched. And he was close- he could feel it. But just as he was about to open the folder in which he believed had the information he needed, he was attacked and captured by the oh-so wonderful Order. And from there, everything went down hill and he ended up here.

He broke out of his endless thoughts as he heard faint footsteps coming from down the dark corridor and his eyes glinted. Ah, who did he have here? Who could it be? He thought with a hum. His lips twisted upward as he scanned the area and found a certain magic signature. It was his favorite visitor! He laughed lowly for a moment, and almost giggled when he heard the steps falter in their steady strides before continuing down their trip down the road to hell.

Ah, he so did love unnerving people.

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The blonde man made his way down the hall slowly, steadying his strides after he heard the distant chuckle. He knew it wasn't a good idea to show his uneasiness, but at the same time he knew it to be futile. The young man always knew- always. If it wasn't for the fact that his Lord had demanded he visit the young man he wouldn't have even dreamed of coming here.

He slowed to a stop in front of a large cell- a bit larger then the ones down the hall spaced away from this particular one. He slowly raked his eyes upward, taking the appearance of the other in. His head was bowed a bit, his arms spread wide but slightly slumped- seeing as how the chains were slightly loose. Hair dark as night flowed around a pale body that seemed to glow in the eerie light his wand gave off. He had no pants, only a long tattered blood-stained black shirt hanging off his thin form. As his eyes slowly looked at the face of the other, he made himself look into glowing green eyes as they rose to meet his.

The young man seemed to search him for a moment, before his pale lips twisted into a light smirk. He shivered, not able to hide the tremor that spread through his body. The young man chuckled softly, the sound hard and rough, but not unpleasant. It was cold- but filled with power. He wondered if it was wrong to love the power hidden behind the young mans voice.

" Ah. So dear Tom has sent for information once more. What can the Boy-Who-Lived do for you, Pride?" The man looked at the other in slight agitation at the name, causing the other to chuckle softly once again.

" Do you deny such a thing as being the root of who you truly are, my dear Lucius?" the young man asked, amusement touching his voice. He narrowed his eyes a bit before letting his face slip into the emotionless mask he was so familiar with.

" Milord asked if you have news for him." he said simply. The young prisoner seemed to analyze him before laughing a bit. He lifted his head a bit more, and with a soft breeze that seemed to come from nowhere, the shackles holding him suddenly disappeared. The man rubbed idly at his sore wrists, though when he pulled his pale hands away they were perfectly healed. The young man stood gracefully, surprising Lucius once again. How he had grace in such a state, he would never know.

" Ah, so desperate are we, for information." the young man said walking a bit closer. Sharp green eyes pierced through him as he took a step back. The younger ignored the movement to lean against the wall next to the barred wall, his slightly dirty face thoughtful.

" Perhaps Dumbledore has suddenly gotten more violent in his defense?" he asked lightly, his eyes flashing as the blonde looked at the younger in surprise.

" Ah, I figured as much. Its simply really. The old man wishes to throw your Tom off guard, and he has done so beautifully might I add," he skillfully ignored the glare as he continued, " Tom is powerful, cunning and smart but there Is one thing he lacks when facing Dumbledore: Experience. He may have had his fair share of battles, but Dumbledore has already been through one Dark Lord, and with that has gained valuable experience. But just as all advantages are useful and give you the upper hand- they can be equally blinding." he said, his eyes flashing in amusement as he glanced at the silent blonde.

" How are we to know or see such a weakness in such an advantage? And what do you mean blinding?" Lucius asked, aggravated with the vague answers. The young man shook his head lightly, waves of dirty black hair flowing with the movement.

" Ah, ah, ah. You shall see, Pride. Now run along with your information. I'm sure Power will know soon enough."

And with that, the blonde spun on his heal, walking away with irritation burning at his veins.

He truly tried to ignore the fading amused chuckles as he walked away- though he doubted he would ever forget such a sound.

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Judging from the irritation on his face I doubt he understood the message. A shadowed man thought idly, not really angry at his follower. Despite popular belief, he didn't exactly hate everything. Just most. But really, it wasn't exactly his fault, now was it? He didn't grow up in the most wonderful of places, nor was he born in the most wonderful way. And just as he though: Perhaps everything would be better- he was sent to Hogwarts (which, in itself wasn't something bad of course) with the oh-so wonderful Dumbledore as his Headmaster.

Albus Dumbledore.

One of the few things that no matter what- he would always despise. The old man used his weak state to his advantage- and that was something he would never forgive the man for doing. He knew that something as small as that simply didn't seem like enough to hate the man so much- and if you did hate him- not enough to hate the majority of wizards and witches. And he agreed. He didn't hate the magical world- quite the opposite in fact. It was magical Britain he had a problem with. The fools were so deep in their own greed and selfish desires that they knew not how to do their job properly. Not that many started off understanding such a thing.

The disease that the majority of magical Britain held was passed on well before his time- and it continues to infect the newly brought up generations. And it was to stop- though that was only one small point in the large book of problems he found within the magical government itself.

But if he was to be truly honest with himself (he mentally snorted at the honest part- because really- a Slytherin honest? Hah!) he knew that even though their were almost too many problems to count, it all started with his hate. His hate for Dumbledore, his hate for muggles, his hate for the idiotic light wizards that thought themselves better than he, his hate for his mother… the list just simply continued on and on.

He paused in his thoughts, his permanent sneer faltering some as he eyed the blonde kneeled before him. A long, pale digit tapped at his cheek idly, dark amusement glittering in his eyes. What was he kidding? Perhaps he did hate everything.

" Ah, Luciusssss. What newsss have you brought me?" he asked, letting a hiss invade his normal speech pattern. He watched in old amusement (because this simply happened everytime ) as the blonde shivered some at the tone.

" My lord… I am not entirely sure…" he said sounding confused as well as afraid for his supposed punishment. Inwardly he sighed. He really couldn't punish the man- he would be as confused as he was, no doubt, if he was the one to talk with his… rival.

He motioned for the man to step forward, and he did so shivering in fright, which made him sneer. Such a pathetic display- but one he found twisted pleasure in seeing. Faster than the other saw, he took out his wand from his holster and put it against the pale head, whispering soft words.

.:: Memory ::.

He made his way down the hall slowly, steadying his strides after he heard the distant chuckle. He knew it wasn't a good idea to show his uneasiness, but at the same time he knew it to be futile. He always knew- always. If it wasn't for the fact that his Lord had demanded he visit him wouldn't have even dreamed of coming here.

He snorted some. At least he knew the man was faithful if he thought as such. He watched with sharp crimson eyes as Lucius walked by the hall, ignoring the insane laughter and calls of the other inmates from the beginning of the hall. He rolled his eyes at some. Yeah- some of those were his.

Not that he was all too proud at that.

He slowed to a stop in front of a large cell- a bit larger then the ones down the hall spaced away from this particular one. He slowly raked his eyes upward, taking the appearance of the other in. His head was bowed a bit, his arms spread wide but slightly slumped- seeing as how the chains were slightly loose. Hair dark as night flowed around a pale body that seemed to glow in the eerie light his wand gave off. He had no pants, only a long tattered blood-stained black shirt hanging off his thin form. As his eyes slowly looked at the face of the other, he made himself look into glowing green eyes as they rose to meet his.

He breathed sharply as he analyzed the young man in front of him as the blonde was. No matter where the young man was he never seemed to stop emitting a powerful feeling. It was as if the young man magically stroked your own- and was he far from being unaffected- and this was only a memory!

The young man seemed to search him for a moment, before his pale lips twisted into a light smirk. He shivered, not able to hide the tremor that spread through his body. The young man chuckled softly, the sound hard and rough, but not unpleasant. It was cold- but filled with power. He wondered if it was wrong to love the power hidden behind the young mans voice.

He closed his eyes momentarily. No- that was simply something he couldn't fault the man for. He was as tempted by it as the other. Perhaps even more so.

" Ah. So dear Tom has sent for information once more. What can the Boy-Who-Lived do for you, Pride?" the man looked at the other in slight agitation at the name, causing the other to chuckle softly once again.

He raised an eyebrow. So that was the name that Lucius hated so?

" Do you deny such a thing as being the root of who you truly are, my dear Lucius?" the man asked, amusement touching his voice. He narrowed his eyes a bit before letting his face slip into the emotionless mask he was so familiar with.

He held in his chuckle even though it was simply a memory.

" Milord asked if you have news for him." he said simply. The young prisoner seemed to analyze him before laughing a bit. He lifted his head a bit more, and with a soft breeze that seemed to come from nowhere, the shackles holding him suddenly disappeared. The man rubbed idly at his sore wrists, though when he pulled his pale hands away they were perfectly healed. The young man stood gracefully, surprising Lucius once again. How he had grace in such a state, he would never know.

Yes- he seconded that one as well.

" Ah, so desperate are we, for information." the young man said walking a bit closer. Sharp green eyes pierced through him as he took a step back. The younger ignored the movement to lean against the wall next to the barred wall, his slightly dirty face thoughtful.

" Perhaps Dumbledore has suddenly gotten more violent in his defense?" he asked lightly, his eyes flashing as the blonde looked at the younger in surprise.

He really wasn't as surprise as the other. The young man always knew things such as this. It wasn't his first time asking for knowledge he did not yet know after-all. He wondered if the man had seer blood for a moment before paying attention once more.

" Ah, I figured as much. Its simply really. The old man wishes to throw your Tom off guard, and he has done so beautifully might I add," he skillfully ignored the glare as he continued, " Tom is powerful, cunning and smart but there Is one thing he lacks when facing Dumbledore: Experience. He may have had his fair share of battles, but Dumbledore has already been through one Dark Lord, and with that has gained valuable experience. But just as all advantages are useful and give you the upper hand- they can be equally blinding." he said, his eyes flashing in amusement as he glanced at the silent blonde.

His eye brows furrowed in thought. He wasn't entirely what that meant. Albus' advantage was also his weakness? Or simply a double edged sword? And the way the young man had emphasized blinding… was it meant in a literal or figurative sense? He almost huffed in annoyance before listening once more.

" How are we to know or see such a weakness in such an advantage? And what do you mean blinding?" Lucius asked, aggravated with the vague answers. The young man shook his head lightly, waves of dirty black hair flowing with the movement.

" Ah, ah, ah. You shall see, Pride. Now run along with your information. I'm sure Power will know soon enough."

He had a nickname for him as well?

And with that, the blonde spun on his heal, walking away with irritation burning at his veins.

He truly tried to ignore the fading amused chuckles as he walked away- though he doubted he would ever forget such a sound.

Sighing (though it sounded more like a hiss) he left Lucius' mind and ignored the panting man on the floor in front of him. He had a lot to think about.

And with that thought, he raised off of his throne and swept out of the meeting room, his dark wizard robes billowing around him dangerously.

Snape would be most jealous.

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I think… that's it for now. ^.^ I like this one- and for once I have some laid out plans for the story. Review and tell me what you think. I should update soon.

{ Edited~ 2011-26-3 }

[ 8 3/4 Pages]

END.