Alright, listen up people, I've recently reread this, and frankly, I think I could do so much better. In fact, I know I can do better, and with recent problems I've had in writing these chapters, I'm just going to rewrite the entire thing. I suggest reading this from the beginning, or nothing is going to make any sense when updates start happening again.
As I've said before, this is OOC and AU, because otherwise there was something you people were reading that I didn't understand. Hope you enjoy the rewrite, and I hope that it also flows better than the previous versions.
Pain. The only constant in his sad, miserable life. The only thing that informed him that he was even still alive. Pain, it was with him when he was awake, when he was asleep, every moment of everyday was filled with it. And that was exactly how he wanted it.
The pain reminded him that he was alive, that death had yet to claim him, though he wished it had. Though he knew it wouldn't, that would mean that the Light would lose it's Savior. They would never allow for that to happen. It would mean any chance of killing Voldemort would disappear.
After all, he was Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Didn't-Know-How-To-Die. It was summer, and as usual, Harry was at the Dursley's. And life was hell.
After the 'wonderful' warning that the Order had given Vernon, the fat whale was determined to make it impossible for him to go a moment without pain. While, that wasn't much different from other summer's, Vernon had decided that Harry would be a good fuck. Every week, light clock work, Vernon would get drunk and rape him. After the first two weeks, Dudley had joined in, being just as sick and twisted as his father. Vaguely, Harry wondered what his dearest Aunt thought was happening, but decided it was bet if he didn't know. The knowledge might sicken him.
It was already his birthday, and all Harry wanted to do was die. He was dirty, a freak, something that deserved constant pain and wasn't worth the effort the world used to keep alive.
The Wizarding World had abandoned him. Harry knew for a fact Dumbles knew what was happening. He had half the Order spying on him, for Merlin's sake! If that wasn't bad enough, Harry himself had told him! Him, Ron and Hermione! But there he was, still in the same mess that plagued him every summer and ten years before that.
'Certainly things can't be that bad, Harry? Surely, you're just over exaggerating things a bit.' Dumbledore's words had stung, and at that moment the man had lost all of his trust. Never would he allow for the man to use him again. He could fight his own war! The Wizarding World could drop dead, for all he cared at the moment.
Now that he thought about it, death seemed like the best thing in the world to him. Yes, he wanted to die. To fall into that black abyss where responsibilities were a thing of the past. Before, the only thing that kept him going was Sirius, but now even he was gone. Killed by Bellatrix Lestrange.
The Department of Mysteries... That was a subject that was still raw in Harry's mind. When Voldemort had possessed him, to taunt Dumbledore into killing him, he had seen the contemplating look in Dumbledore's eyes. If it wasn't for the Minister and Auror's showing up, he would have done it. Probably would have blamed it on Death Eater's or Voldemort.
All he was to Dumbledore was a weapon to be used and then disposed of. He was sure that the rest of the Wizarding World saw him that way, as well. Well, fuck them! He would just let Voldemort kill him, and then where would they be?
Satisfied with his solution, Harry felt himself slip into the blissful darkness of sleep.
Lord Voldemort wasn't a patient man. He didn't tolerate disobedience or disloyalty. He didn't like failure and he most certainly didn't like idiots. Peter Pettigrew was most of these things. Traitors were highly frowned upon and Wormtail hadn't even had a reason for betraying the Potter's. It took all of his strength not to attack the pathetic ball of rat right where he stood. Alas, he was far to useful to kill with his Animagus form being small and unregistered.
Tonight was the night that the wards would weaken just enough to get into Potter's home and kill the brat and his family. Oh, how the boy would suffer for all of his interfering. And Dumbledore, who had the brat completely under his control. He was pretty sure that if the old goat said die, the brat would do so happily.
Yes, it was better to kill the brat and save him the misery later. Of course, this would mostly benefit Voldemort, but he was a Dark Lord, he never did anything without an ulterior motive. It was the way that he worked. Mostly, there were a few cases in which it hadn't, but the Dark Lord refused to remember such things.
Grinning insanely to himself, the Dark Lord stalked out of his chambers and prepared to inform his death eaters. He was positive there was a spy, and had refrained from informing any of them. Dumbledore would never know what had happened.
He pushed the notion, the barest hint, in something being wrong with this entire thing out of his mind. Nothing would go wrong, everything was going to go to plan. He would not fail, not again. One boy was not worth the price of the Wizarding World. He would make sure that this would be the end of it all.
Severus Snape wasn't a easy man to shock. He wasn't one for emotions such as love, shock, humor, or anything positive. All of those emotions had basically ceased to exist within himself after the death of Lily Evans-Potter. He had sworn a vow that night to protect her son, where he failed to protect her.
He never imagined just how hard that feet would be. The boy was nothing but a trouble magnet, he attracted danger where ever he went, and put other's in danger as well with his foolish stunts to gain attention. Just like his father, just as arrogant and big headed. Snape had tried to correct that, he really had, but the features of James Potter would always stare back at him and cause him to loose himself.
The child hated him, and Snape knew the hatred was justified. The boy had been polite until he had started questioning the child relentlessly. Snape felt a distinct disappointment in himself when he remembered that most of the questions he'd asked would not have been taught for another three years. The fact that the know-it-all Granger even knew the answers was amazing at the time, and he'd lashed out at the boy in his blind anger. It was like that every time he saw Lily's child.
Now, in the only place he could protect the boy, he had failed once again. The Dark Lord had discovered the weakness in the wards, only present on the Night of the child's birth. Snape didn't even have time to warn the Order, for the Dark Lord had kept the information secret until it was time for the attack. It was still terrifying that Voldemort had even managed to learn the secret, for not even Harry Potter himself knew of it.
The Death Eaters of the Inner Circle were gathering, but only Bellatrix, Lucius, himself, and the Dark Lord would be going. The rest would be playing a distraction in Diagon Alley for the Order. No help would be coming.
Severus Snape felt the weight of the situation settle on his shoulder's and he really didn't think there was anyway to fix this disaster. Not now.
Harry heard the voices that were yelling outside the cupboard door. He smiled to himself. Voldemort wasn't aware of it, but a few weeks ago, after discovering a weakness in the wards around the Dursley's, Harry had sent the information over his link with Voldemort. He had made sure that the idea was planted and was calmly awaiting for the Dark Lord to arrive and kill him.
Harry beamed at his cleverness. He wasn't as ignorant as people made him out to be. He knew how to occlude his mind. The lessons with Snape had actually helped. Ever since images of the Dursley's had started coming to the forefront of his mind, Harry had panicked and started practicing as much as he could. When Voldemort had pried for information in Harry's mind, he'd pushed the knowledge of the wards through. Never mind that Harry wasn't even supposed to have the knowledge in the first place. Harry snickered to himself, Fred and George had been very helpful in gathering information on Order meetings for him. The point was, however, that Voldemort hadn't even known that it was on purpose, and would unknowingly give his greatest threat the one thing he wanted most on his sixteenth birthday.
His Uncle was screaming something now, probably yelling about freaks. Harry smiled to himself. Vernon would never learn. Harry closed his eyes. The cupboard was shaking as the Death Eaters went up the stairs to Dudley's second bedroom. Harry had been moved back to the cupboard after second year, when the Dursley's didn't think that it would get them hurt. Not that, that really bother him. The cupboard had always been his safe place, a place where the Dursely's couldn't go.
"Where is he?" The cold voice of Voldemort demanded calmly to his relatives. Harry could feel the confusion streaming from the Dark Lord's mind.
"I-I d-don't k-k-kno-w who you-u'r-re talking a-about." Vernon stuttered, then decided that he was going to regain his nerve all of a sudden. "Get out of my house!" It was Hagrid all over again, Harry mused with humor.
There was a silence. "You dare to order me, you filthy muggle? I, the Dark Lord, Voldemort?"
"YOU!" Petunia gasped. "You're the one who killed...them." Harry sneered, his Aunt was pathetic, not evening being able to say his parent's names. More concerned with that taint it would cause her than with the murderous Dark Lord in front of her. Harry wondered somewhat about their priorities.
Voldemort's laugh almost made Harry want to bang on the cupboard door, but when he tried to move, he had finally noticed he wasn't able to. Looking around himself, he saw that he was sitting in a very large pool of his own blood. Harry blinked. He had slowly been bleeding to death without even noticing. Oh well. He wanted to die anyways.
"I shall ask once more. Where is he?" There was a dangerous tone to Voldemort's voice now.
"T-There." That was Dudley's voice. He had been quiet the entire time. Harry could picture in his mind his whale of a cousin pointing a figure at his cupboard shaking in front of the Dark Lord, shaking in fear of loosing his stupid life, something that wasn't a positive affect on the world as it was.
By now, Harry was fighting to keep his eyes open. He wanted Voldemort to kill him. That way the prophecy would be completed and he could laugh as the Light fell before the Dark Lord. Laugh as those that had betrayed and denied him suffered for their crimes. Call if vindictive or wrong, but Harry felt he was more than justified in hoping for their end. There was also the possibility that he wouldn't die properly unless the Dark Lord was the one to deliver the final blow. The door to the cupboard was quickly unlocked and light flooded in. Struggling to look up, Harry saw Voldemort, Snape and a few other Death Eater's staring at him in shock.
"Potter?" The hoarse whisper of Severus caught his attention.
" 'ullo Professor." Harry managed to croak. His voice hurt his throat. His body was becoming numb. "Did Dumbles send you?" Harry decided that pretending he only noticed Snape would make them think the could only identify them if they spoke. He wasn't sure why, but it seemed like a good idea to him. His befuddled mind told him that his friends, the ones he cared about, would believe that he had died feeling safe. Harry didn't want to burden them with the thought of him dying in fear.
"No. What happened?" Snape sounded genuinely shocked.
Harry wanted to tell the man, he really did, but training given to him by the Dursely's made it impossible to speak the words that they all knew. " 'othing. Where's Uncle Vernon? He was 'pposed to come an hour ago.'' He prayed they saw past the act, he really did.
"Why?" It was the voice of Bellatrix Lestrange. Oddly, hearing it didn't sent him into a fit of anger. It was even odder that her voice contained concern, for him! He must look really bad if he was getting this reaction from the woman.
"Who's that, 'fessor?" Harry asked, deciding that they didn't need to know he knew. Snape would report everything, and he just couldn't make his only loved ones suffer with that knowledge. He couldn't.
Snape automatically lied. "Just Tonks. She's trying out a new disguise."
Harry nodded, that was a very good lie, though why Snape was lying was a question that popped into his head. "Makes sense. Wotcher Tonks."
"Errr, Wotcher Harry?" This statement was unsure and Bellatrix was shooting Snape angry glares.
" 'm tired." This wasn't a lie. Harry was exhausted. He wondered why Voldemort hadn't killed him yet. Maybe he'd ask after he took a nap. Yeah, a nap sounded wonderful. "Gonna go ta sleep now."
Snape was next to him in an instant, as was everyone else. Harry wasn't sure how that was possible, as he was in the cupboard, but he figured that it had to do with his slow moving brain and a spell of some sort. "Potter, stay awake." It was an order, not request.
"Don't wanna." Harry muttered. Suddenly, he didn't remember why they were here. Everything was fading so fast. Why did it matter if they knew or not? What did it matter if his loved ones knew the truth? It would not change anything, not as far as Harry was now concerned. He just wanted it to end.
"Who?" It was only a word, but somehow Harry understood.
"Told Dumbles...wouldn't listen...didn't wanna come back 'ere. Said I hadta. Don't member why." Harry knew he was avoiding the question. God, why didn't this man kill him yet? He had been trying for years, and now, here was the perfect opportunity and he wasn't dead yet! Didn't this man get it?
"Wanna sleep." Harry whined. Coherent thoughts were starting to leave him.
"No." Voldemort was still the one answering.
"Snake-face is mean." Harry mumbled, it was far too hard to keep up any act. He was far to tired, to spent, to continue.
There was silence.
"Potter, do you know who that is?" Snape sounded uncertain. In any other circumstance, Harry would have laughed at the man, but there was only a flash of bitter amusement at the fact.
" 'course. It's Snake-face. He don't like me." Way to sound childish, but Harry didn't care. He didn't care about anything, not anymore.
"Why aren't you afraid?" He recognized the voice of Lucius Malfoy.
"Wanna die." There, maybe that would get their attention. For being so cunning, they sure were stupid.
"What?" Came the surprised response of everyone. The Dursley's had been watching silently from the background. Vernon looked smug, as did Dudley. Petunia looked afraid, and for good reason.
"You sent me the information of how to get in here on purpose." Voldemort realized.
"Yep. Wanna die." Harry felt like that should explain everything.
"Will you tell me why?" There was a gentle tone to the Dark Lord's voice, one that shocked everyone.
"Too tired. Wanna die!" Harry whined. Why did this man insist on prolonging the life he was usually trying to end?
"Can you show me?"
Harry saw the memories of all his time with the Dursley's flash before his eyes. Voldemort had a horrified look on his face, something that was never seen on his face before. "Dumbledore knew about this?"
"Uh-huh." Harry nodded. "Wouldn't listen. Wanted to stay at Hogwarts. Said it was safer here. Lied."
"You don't wish to fight for the light?" This had everyone's attention, including Severus who was trying to stop the bleeding.
"Left me here. Nobody listen. Thought it was for attention. Called me liar. Let them save themselves." There was clear anger in the soft, fading voice. The Death Eaters were appalled Here was the Savior of Light, bleeding to death because the light didn't care enough to help him.
"Going ta sleep now." Harry closed his eyes, ignoring the panicked yelling of Severus, or the gleeful face of Vernon. All that mattered was the peaceful darkness that surrounded him. The safety that it offered. He could hear Snape's voice yelling at him to stay awake. Petunia had gotten over her fear and was saying that she always knew he was worthless and would die an early death.
Harry no longer cared. All that mattered was there was now nobody to hurt him. That the soothing cool arms he didn't remember being there before were cradling him. The pain slowly vanished and finally, the world around him disappeared.
Never in all his time as a spy for both sides, had Severus thought that this would happen. The Potter boy was lying in a pool of his own blood, asking the Dark Lord to kill him.
And Dumbledore knew.
Now, Severus had never been fond of the old goat, but this was beyond madness. Dumbledore had led the Order to believe that his relatives treated him like royalty. It had been so convincing that they had all ignored the signs of child abuse. Signs that were clear now.
Potter was always skinny and small for his age. He flinched every time someone came near him and looked panicked when people touched him. He always stiffened and accepted insults, watching them warily when they approached. All these signs and more stated loud and clear that the boy was being mistreated. Hadn't his Weasley friend said something about bars in their second year? Ah yes, bars on his window and the refusal to feed him. Mrs. Weasley had gone on a rant about how unlikely that seemed. She had also said something about a cat flap...
Severus was willing to bet that he hadn't made the boys life any easier...he owed a life debt to James Potter, and was supposed to protect his son in his absence Not only that, but this was Lily's son as well. Lily, his childhood friend. How could he ever forgive himself for such a grave mistake?
They were already at the manor, with the Dark Lord taking care of the boy's family. They seemed to despise anything to do with magic. That would explain their less than friendly treatment of the boy.
Potter was being treated by the only Medi-Witch that they had on their side. Madam Resa. She believed that the Dark Wizards needed healing just as much as the Light Wizards. She was neutral in the war and a great asset. Seeing the boy and being told who had done it and that someone had known and not done anything had sent her in an uproar. To find out that it was the leader of the so called 'Light' had pushed her over the edge. She was now on the Dark Side permanently.
Looking helplessly at the room Potter-no, Harry, the boy was not his father and Severus could no longer link him with his childhood tormentor-was being tended to. Sighing, the Potion's Master waited and hoped that the boy would make it out alive.
Voldemort watched as the last breathe escaped the whale's mouth. The fat adult whale had been the last to die, seeing what he did to Potter, this was a large mercy on his part. That boy hadn't gotten any mercy, afteral. Used as a house-elf for most of his life, beaten and then raped as he got older. How dare anyone do this to any child, let alone a wizard's child.
To make it worse, old Dumbles had known and not done anything. Something that both surprised and enraged him even more. Potter was supposed to be the Savior of the Light, and yet they did nothing to save him. What were these people thinking? That they could expect him to save them when they damned him to live with abusive, magic hating muggles? From the boys mind, not even his friends believed him anymore.
Voldemort apparated back to the manor, and walked quickly to the infirmary where the boy was being treated. He didn't appreciate what he found when he arrived there. The boy had lost nearly all of his blood and was slowly dying even with the Blood Replenishing Potion. This was not good.
"That boy has completely lost the will to live, and from what I've found, I can't blame him." Madam Resa shook her head. "Dumbledore needs to get his head examined, leaving that boy in a place like that."
Severus cocked his head curiously. "An abusive household, you mean?"
Disgust flashed upon her face. "Severe malnourished three broken ribs, seven broken bones, eight fractures, nine sprains, scars, old and new reopening, new cuts, a severe concussion sleep deprived, and worst of all, severe rape signs. And that's not even the worst of it."
The Death Eater's present gaped at her. Rape? Malnourished? Sleep Deprivison? And that wasn't even the worst of it? What the hell was Dumbledore thinking? Wasn't this boy the so called savior of the light? They didn't know what to think anymore.
Voldemort felt fury swell inside of him. It was bad enough that the old goat had ruined his life, but now he was ruining the life of another? This boy had it even worse than he himself at the orphanage. This boy was ready to die, and was ready to accept it without question. In Voldemort's opinion, it just wasn't right.
Severus looked mortified. If he wasn't sure of his side before now, he was definitely sure now. From the look on the Dark Lord's face, this was something even he wouldn't approve of, much less hide. Potter's friends had to be aware, and probably just didn't believe him. Dumbledore had thought of everything, making it seem like Potter was just trying to get attention.
Lucius was planning on having Draco befriend the boy. Potter obviously needed a friend that wouldn't turn on him in a moment's notice. And thinking back on Potter's words, he had tried to tell them about the abuse. Yes, and maybe the other Slytherin's wouldn't mind getting to know the boy either.
Bellatrix was completely mortified. Rape? Along with much worse abuse? It was horrifying to even think of, and she had killed the only other place he could go. Oh, the guilt that hit her was something she had never felt before. She silently swore to herself that she would make it up to him, even if it meant mothering him until he was ready to kill her! The look on her face scared everyone, including Voldemort, around her.
Harry laid oblivious to the world around him as the Medi-Witch worked to keep him alive. The boy would not be dying anytime soon, no matter how much he wanted it, or how much his body was trying to shut down.
Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott, and Pansy Parkinson stood in the meeting room of Lord Voldemort in complete fear, not knowing what was going on. The Dark Lord had summoned them specifically, and they feared for what that meant.
Voldemort scanned over the group, and noted their fear with great satisfaction. "Do you know why you have been brought before me?"
They shock their heads no, nervousness clear to everyone.
"The Inner Circle and I traveled to the home of Harry Potter last night, when the wards surrounding the house were the weakest."
Four pairs of eyes widened. Shit, poor Potter. They didn't like him, but they could tell he wore a mask and respected him for it. He didn't really deserve the death that they knew he had been given.
"We were surprised to find that the boy was more than willing to allow himself to be killed."
Draco's eyes widened, wait, what? The rest of the group were in similar states of disbelief.
"Ah, that was not the most surprising thing. It seems Dumbledore has been lying about Potter's home life. The boy lives with muggles that hate anything to do with magic."
They all paled. Nobody liked were this was going.
"Madam Resa, would you list off his injuries please?" it was Lucius who spoke this time, after a nod of approval from Voldemort. As Resa listed off everything that was wrong with Potter, Draco started beating himself up. He was a Slytherin, they all were, how did they not notice the signs?
"From your reactions, I can tell that you didn't notice the signs either. It seems that this is the way that Dumbledore wanted it, though one thing didn't go as planned. Potter has completely given up on life, and is trying to die. Even while unconscious, his mind is forcibly shutting his body done, in hopes of death." Voldemort frowned. "Not even I approve of child abuse, and it seems that the light has finally proven that it is more corrupt than the dark, something that they have tried to hide for a very long time."
There were nods of agreement all around the room, and for the first time, they noticed that the entire Inner Circle was there. "I want you four to befriend him and try to give him something to live for." The four blinked at the Dark Lord, why the hell did he care if Potter lived or not? He had never cared before. Shrugging it off, they followed Madam Resa into the infirmary where the only bed was occupied by Potter.
Draco felt him face pale when he saw the state Potter was in. His skin was coated in his own blood, bandages around nearly every part of his body, and he was paler than a ghost. If not for the slow movement of his chest, he would have thought that Potter was dead. And to think that if not for the Dark Lord, his sworn enemy, he would be! That said a lot about the light, and the muggles they tried to protect.
Pansy, Theodore, and Blaise were thinking along the same lines. Potter looked horrible. There was no denying it. They stood their for a good few minutes before they were startled out of their thoughts by Potter sitting up, having woken up with their presence around him.
Draco watched as Potter blinked, then scowled. From what he had heard, Draco was betting Potter was upset about being alive. This was going to take a lot of work...
But just maybe it would be worth the effort.
There, the first chapter rewritten. A much better job, if you ask me. All the chapters will be going through similar transitions, so keep a look out.
Review and tell me what you think!