This is YAOI. Boys love. Don't like, don't read.
Takes place at the end of the 7th book,(If you HAVEN'T read, then DON'T read this fic. Spoiler.) when Harry, after realizing that he is a Horcrux, goes to face his death. Harry/Voldemort SLASH, I tried to keep them in character, but when writing a H/V fic, it's quite hard to do so….anyways, Enjoy!^-^
Harry Potter was walking up to the tall figure, who was wearing black robes and an amused expression over his snakelike face... Harry Potter was walking up to his death.
'The boy who lived…' the venom was dripping from the older man's words, but Harry didn't care anymore. He slowly closed his eyes, waiting for the other to lift his wand, waiting for the well-known, dreaded words, the killing spell… but nothing has happened.
Could it be that he was already dead?... But as he opened his eyes, Harry had to realize that he was very alive, still standing there, in the middle of the Forbidden Forest, the Death Eaters standing around, waiting…the only difference was, that Voldemort was right in front of him, glaring deep into his eyes, and Harry wanted desperately to grab his wand…but he stopped himself.
It should be over. Now.
'You came…' he hissed, slowly, quietly. 'But of course…Harry Potter, the rescuer of his friends and the whole wizarding world…oh yes, exactly how I expected…'
'Kill me already!' spat Harry. It was hard enough to do this- he didn't have more strength for humiliating games.
The man in front of him gave him a wry smile with his lipless mouth, and Harry felt that something was not quite right.
'Why, Potter, somehow I can't grasp your sudden suicidal will… ' the man's face drew closer to his, and Harry had to fight back his urge to step back. He could feel the warm breath of Voldemort, and he struggled to keep still.
'Of course, I would be delighted to hear that Dumbledore's favourite boy realized that he didn't stand a chance against me…' Voldemort, with a sudden movement grabbed Harry's chin, his long, spiderlike fingers forcing his mouth to open, his dark nails leaving marks over his skin.
'But that wouldn't be you, Potter. ..not without a fight…' he hissed, and Harry had enough. He stared back into those pitiless eyes, and with a sudden movement he freed his face from the man's hand.
'I'm here to die, this is what you 've always wanted, isn't it? This is why you sent that bloody message, right, Riddle? Then finish it already'
Voldemort raised his wand in an instant, and Harry was sure this had to be it, he had angered him enough to finish him off for good…
Unexpected, incredible pain took over Harry's body…he hit the ground fast, shaking uncontrollably as white-hot knives pierced every tiny inch of his skin…so this is it…his teeth clenched together so hard that they could've been easily broken….of course, Voldemort wants to play with him before finishing him off…Harry wanted to scream in agony, and maybe he was…he couldn't be sure what was really happenning anymore, when suddenly the pain subdued, and he was there, lying on the ground, motionless…
He could hear the Death Eaters clapping, cheering, laughing…he couldn't care less…
'Don't call me by that filthy name.' he could hear Voldemort's hiss, and all of a sudden Harry found it absurdly funny, that the dark lord was so sensitive about being called by his given name…and then, the Gryffindor grew stronger inside him, and he conjured all his force to speak.
'How brave…being scared of a name, Tom…'
This time he wasn't even surprised of the pain coming. He expected it, of course…and although experiencing the Cruciatus course again made him swear and hate himself to the bone for causing himself this, he couldn't help feeling that at least, he wouldn't bow to him, not even in death…no, he thought, now screaming on the top of his lungs, he wouldn't…
And again, it was over. It was a bliss, such an awkard sensation, and suddenly it felt so comfortable to lie on that muddy ground…
'Lord Voldemort is not scared of anything, Potter.'
Harry heard that voice coming from way too close, and as he blinked, he could see the man bending over his helpless body.
'Get up, boy.'
But it was easier said than done.
'I SAID get up!' Voldemort howled in rage, and as he directed his wand at Harry, the boy could feel the sensation of floating, up from the ground, freely, without gravitation to pull him down and hurt him more… But the bliss of weightlessness only lasted for some seconds, and Harry's feet hit the ground. He needed all his force to keep his balance and not to fall down again, pathetically, like some weird marionette doll.
'Why don't you get out your wand, Potter?' Voldemort asked furiously. Clearly he wanted a show.
'Maybe I don't want that! Maybe I don't want to fight with you here anymore!' Harry snapped. Obviously he couldn't possibly tell the dark lord, why indeed he wants to die…no, why he has to die. 'Just let it be over, fack it!'
The next thing that happened was quite surprising. Voldemort let out a high pitched, joyous laugh. Sure, it must be happy times for him to see his enemy like this, but why so sudden…?
But the answer was soon to came, which horrified Harry to the depths of his soul.
The man stepped close to him, again, his mouth still twitching from his previous laughter, as he pushed his finger, strongly, cruelly to his scar.
Harry bit on his tongue hard- this time he tried to fight the inevitable torture, but he couldn't help letting out an agonizing moan.
'Does this ring a bell, Potter?'
'I don't know what you are talking about…' mumbled Harry, as the man withdrew his finger.
'The connection. The bond.'
Harry's eyes grew wider and wider…it can't be happening…
'Have you ever wondered why it's there? Or…your ability to speak Parseltongue…your dreams…'
The boy's face mutated in shock. No way…
'But of course, you know what's the reason behind all these things, don't you Potter?' Voldemort sticked out his purplish tongue and licked his own white lips, as if preparing for a feast. 'That's the reason you want me to kill you…'
Harry felt as if the whole world could have come crushing down on him. He knew. Voldemort knew the truth about the Horcrux…
'Yes, Potter. I know.'
And at that moment, Harry felt like there was nothing else that he could do…but before he could have contemplated on his options, he saw Voldemort pointing his wand at him, muttering something, and all went black.
Harry slowly opened his eyes, feeling some numb pain in his lungs everytime he took a breath…but then, it means, he was still alive...
Realization dawned on him. Of course he was still living, because Voldemort would never destroy the beholder of his Horcrux.
He was sitting on a chair, his hands tied back, his wand was taken. The room he was kept in was huge – it rather looked like a Hall of a mansion, with marble floor and a huge fireplace, where the orange flames of the fire played vividly.
He heard footsteps from behind, but his ropes didn't let him turn back. His heart started to beat faster as the footsteps were coming closer and closer, and Harry knew, that whoever it was, that person was standing just behind his back…
'I do hope that Harry Potter enjoys my hospitality.' It was a high pitched sound, and Harry knew very well whom it belonged to.
'What the hell do you want to do with me, Voldemort?' Harry tried to keep his voice calm, but it was an almost impossible task. Suddenly he could feel cold, spider like fingers touching his face from both sides, slowly caressing, making small circles on his chins, and Harry felt sick. It was disgusting and unsettling, as the man who was standing right behind him cupped his face, caressing like a lover, or more like, a predator who enjoyed playing with the hopeless prey.
'Get your hands off me!' The boy cried out at last,expecting pain, punishment, but Voldemort seemed to want his disapproval. He gave him a short laughter, then bent down, pushing his lips to Harry's ears.
'Well well, that's a good question, indeed, Harry. Since I only need your body to remain existing, I could break and destroy your soul…I could lock you away in a small dark room, tied to this chair and watch you give up your sanity…I could do that, very well…
Harry struggled, as much as his ropes let him, to pull his face away from the man, but Voldemort stopped caressing him, and hold his head tightly, making it unable to move as he continued to whisper in his ear.
'But that wouldn't be that much fun, now would it be?' With that, the dark lord did something incredible, unexpected and deeply unwanted. Harry could feel as something wet touched his earlobe…and he felt the urge to vomit as Voldemort thrust his tongue deep into the boy's ears, holding his head still, forcing his enemy to bear.
'You are SICK!' Harry shouted as suddenly Voldemort let go off him. The boy was breathing heavily, as Voldemort finally appeared in front of his eyesight, walking up to him.
'Why, thank you, Potter.' he said slowly, as he bent down, placing his tomb-white hands on the two armrests of the chair, making Harry feel utterly imprisoned. 'But if I'm sick, what does that make you…?'
Harry couldn't possibly prepare himself for what was coming, not in years, not even in one lifetime. Because the next second the dark lord grabbed his hair and pushed his lips to meet his.
Voldemort's mouth was cold, and his thin lips were merciless, as they opened, and no matter how Harry tried to fight against it, his tongue slid through the boy's mouth, penetrating him, sliding in and out, conquering his tongue.
He tried to break free, to gasp for air, but Voldemort took a strong grip on his brown locks, pulling them so tightly that his head was aching. The kiss was humiliating, aggressive and wet: Voldemort's long tongue discovered every tiny part of Harry's mouth, and he didn't mind using his pointed teeth to show the boy who had the upper hand.
As soon the boy realised that Voldemort is aiming to humiliate and posess him, he felt the urge to fight back, to show him he is not going to be just a mere lifeless puppet of his…
…so, as if thinking that this would be his only option to duel him, he kissed the dark lord back. Voldemort seemed to be taken aback for a second by the boy's reaction,but it just made him want to conquer the boy even more.
Harry pushed his tongue against the man's, trying hard to send him out of his mouth, and when he couldn't quite succeed in that, he broke into Voldemort's mouth…he didn't care that the man's teeth were hurting him, he kissed with his full force, duelling with the man in this quite grotesque weapon of choice.
Minutes could've passed, when finally Voldemort tore away from their kiss, standing up in his full might, staring down at the boy in amusement, his eyes showing a tad disbelief. Harry bravely returned his gaze, his breathing was heavy and his face was wet.
'Very well, Potter. I'm going to enjoy this more than I could've imagined.' he said, then he pulled out his wand and directed at the boy he has just kissed.
Oh well, I wrote it in one swing, I'm very well aware that many mistakes and errors can occur.
Oh and if someone was labouring under the delusion that this story would go somewhere, nope, this is not that story. This is not the 8th Harry Potter book, no proper plot, simply Voldemort molests Harry. Nothing more, nothing less. As I've already stated in an other fic of mine, YAY for sexual harassment! XD (Only as a joke. Don't try it out at home.)
I love reviews!