Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Gray	By : temptedtorock Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Voldemort Views: 20135 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter books, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Prologue
- 2-Elemental Mage
- 3-Changed
- 4-Offer
- 5-Blocked
- 6-Whole
- 7-Debate
- 8-Secret Room
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- 2
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Prologue

„Stupid boy! Did you think you could prevent it?" Voldemort asked him with his bottomless crimson gaze flashing at him. Harry was lying on the ground, his insides churning with hopeless rage. How could everything go so wrong? It should have been nothing but a simple tournament, a game…

The second Cedric and Harry reached the cup, he knew something had gone terribly wrong. When they landed right in front of the Riddle grave with the Portkey still clutched tight in their hands, Harry had no doubt left about the graveness of the situation. Somehow the Death Eaters had managed to turn the prize of the tournament into a Portkey, although he did not know how. They must have had someone working for them at Hogwarts; probably Snape, greasy bastard that he was. They would kill him, and this time he had no means of escape, no hope to get away, if he ever had. And Cedric…

Oh God! He was dead… His memories were hazy about the ritual, but he remembered Voldemort emerging from that cauldron and the scene would probably haunt his dreams for the rest of his life. He also recalled the image of Cedric, perhaps too clearly even, as his eyes lost the spark of life in them, as he crumpled to the ground with muscles gone slack in death. He kept replaying the past half an hour over and over, the grief and shock preventing him from moving. He stared up at Voldemort wide eyed, the rage inside him threatening to overwhelm him at any given moment.

"Well, Potter? The boy who lived, eh?" Voldemort's snake-like features twisted into an evil smirk as he taunted Harry in a sing-song voice. Harry could not imagine anything more frightening or disgusting than the face hovering above him. That creature could not be called human, or even a living being for that matter. Nothing alive should look like that. It was something that belonged to nightmares; it should not be real and tangible.

"Did you honestly think you could be my better? Did you believe you could defeat me and become the hero you are worshipped as? Silly boy!" His red eyes held a maniacal gleam as he waved Wormtail over with a swish of his bony hand. "Give him his wand!"

Wormtail inched closer and hesitantly held out Harry's wand for him. He stared at it for a second paralyzed, not comprehending what they expected from him. Gathering his wits, he glanced back up at Wormtail and snatched his wand from him before the sniveling rat had the chance to withdraw.

"Crucio!" He shouted, and watched the betrayer of his family wither on the ground, screaming in agony. A satisfied smirk played upon his lips; he may die today, but he made the man suffer. He could not see any way to avoid his fate at that point, but damn it, he was not going down begging for his life. Harry himself was a little shocked by his actions, but it was a distant feeling, and it would not matter soon anyway. He sat up slowly, not once taking his eyes or wand off the shrieking heap of flesh. He found it a little odd that no one has tried to stop him yet, but was glad for their unconcerned behavior. He lifted the curse slowly, savoring every moment of the others pain. He deserved it. He deserved a lot worse than this for what he had done. As the noises Wormtail made were reduced to muffled moaning, he tilted his head an inch to gaze into Voldemort's eye. He discovered some surprise there, but it was quickly concealed and replaced by mocking amusement.

"Tut tut, an Unforgivable Potter? However are you going to explain that to your precious Dumbledore?"

"I was under the impression you were going to kill me?" Harry asked tonelessly.

"That is right, I suppose. Oh well, I still had the chance to see the Golden Boy display something interesting. For once." he shrugged. The Death Eaters cackled around them in response. Even so, Harry did not feel regret about it. He could not make himself feel sorry for that particular man, nor for the curse he used.

"Let us see an end to this tonight! I'll prove the prophecy wrong!" Voldemort laughed with his arms spread wide in a parody of a stage performance.

"What prophecy?" Harry asked with a frown.

"Oh, you mean to say the old man didn't even tell you? Poor-poor little boy. Dumbledore keeping such a thing secret from you. You were used all along, were you not, little Potter?" Harry was confused. What the hell was the damn snake talking about?

"You were used all your life, and you knew nothing about it. I wonder what you would do if I showed you?" Voldemort smirked and Harry felt his head explode with pain. He felt the bastard in his mind, felt him breaking through private barriers and lodge himself inside. Then memories came, foreign to him because none of them were his own. He was flooded with forced images of Snape, kneeling in front of him and calmly recounting the words of Sybill Trelawney that he had overheard in a rundown room of the Hog's Head. The damning words that sentenced his parents to death, the prophecy that made Voldemort hunt him as a consequence. He felt the Dark Lord's anger over it, his thoughts as he made the connections, and eventually he saw the night his parents died.

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches … born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies …"

As Voldemort finally left his mind, Harry collapsed again, panting and in pain. How could this be? Dumbledore… Why has he not told him? How could he have kept this a secret from him? The man had left him to his muggle family, only to be starved and tortured during his whole youth. And why? So he would not become spoiled, so he could be managed more easily. Frankly, the reason for it was to make it easier for Dumbledore to control him in the oncoming battle of light and darkness. Then, he expected Harry to obey his every whim and get rid of Voldemort "for the good of the world". And Harry, stupid boy that he was, had admired him, was grateful even. After all, he had sent Hagrid to him, had introduced him to the world of magic and all, had he not? But those were nothing but childish dreams, something he wanted to see, instead of the reality he should have focused on all along. Harry was blinded by the gratitude he felt and the joy his new home had given him. He was nothing but a tool. A tool to be used, a means to an end.

"No!" Harry yelled in denial. It was hard to accept the grandfather-like figure going as far as enticing a small boy of eleven and using him to end a war regardless of the consequences it might have on that boy's life and psyche. And all the while Dumbledore made it seem like the choices and decisions were his own, as if the one who wanted to risk his life fighting the Dark Side was Harry himself. Although he would have probably fought anyway, but Dumbledore's manipulation was scalding iron in the pit of his stomach. The betrayal Harry felt bordered on physical agony. How could he? And what of Hermione and Ron? They were also led around without a clue, were put in danger for only one reason – they were his friends.

Tears threatened to leak from his eyes, but he refused to show such weakness. He forced them back with every ounce of strength he had left and glared at his worst enemy. Harry shook his head; that was not entirely true anymore. Dumbledore and Voldemort were competing for that position neck and neck. This gave him a new determination. He could not die without seeing Dumbledore pay for what he had made Harry go through.

"Sorry, oh Great Lord of the Dark, but I can't let you kill me today. It seems I have things to do still." Voldemort laughed with mirth at Harry's declaration.

"And what, exactly, do you plan to do about it? You want to beg? Or do you honestly think you could fight me?" he asked incredulously. He turned to his Death Eaters who chuckled dutifully as their Lord's gaze landed on them.

"Tiny-weeny Potty finks he coulb just get abayyyyyyy!" He heard a woman cry.

"Hush, Bella." It seemed that was too much, even for the Dark Lord himself. Harry snickered. "You find that funny, Potter?" Voldemort swiveled around suddenly. Harry quickly wiped the smile off his face.

"Not really, no." His mind was furiously working on a solution to get out of there alive. And Cedric… God, he could not just leave him here. He glanced at the limp body and shivered. He could not afford to break down. Later, he would probably cry and smash and break everything near him, but not right then.

"You know the rules, do you not? Duel with me! Let me show everyone how weak you really are!" Voldemort shouted with glee.

Harry went along with it, a plan forming in his mind. He positioned himself so he was facing Cedric and tried not to look into those accusing and unseeing eyes. It was his fault he knew. He shook his head again to clear it. Later.

As they began walking with their backs to each other, Harry carefully maneuvered himself to pass Cedric's body on the way. When he reached it, he took a deep breath, summoning all his courage, knowing it would be his only chance. He threw himself down beside the body, lifting it slightly as a shield. Curses could not harm Cedric anymore after all, as disrespectful as that may be.

"Accio cup!" he shouted, and they disappeared with a scream of pure evil rage reverberating through his skull.

1 year later

Sirius was dead. How did this happen? How could he not have seen it coming? When Harry got back to Hogwarts a year ago, he decided the smartest curse of action would be to pretend he knew nothing about Dumbledore's lies. He had been able to see through the old man's deceptions, make no mistake, but he had forced himself to smile and nod at him nonetheless. He had pretended to be the obedient boy, the savior, the one to fight for their cause without a word of complaint. But this was too much. Sirius, his only living family was gone, killed by Bellatrix in the heat of battle. And why? Because he had been too damn stupid to discover the trap Voldemort had set up. Someone died because of him yet again.

As he thought about it, staring at the ceiling of his bedroom with bloodshot eyes, he became angrier and angrier. It was not entirely his fault, no. Dumbledore should have warned him about the possibilities, should have trained him to better defend himself. At the very least he could have made him a better fighter, or taught him spells to make him stronger. But no, he did no such thing. He expected an inexperienced sixteen year old boy to save the wizarding populace from the greatest evil ever known. He had ignored him all year, and kept doing the same still. Harry's only consolation was the fact that he knew the whole prophecy now, from beginning to end. At least the old man had the decency to finally tell him about it, not that it helped. He was a few years too late. Besides, did he really think Harry could not see through his kind façade? It was now more obvious than ever how much Dumbledore wanted to control him. But he was not that stupid, although it did pay off to make others think so.

What should he do? He had the two most powerful wizards alive as his enemies. Harry knew he needed more power, more experience if he was to have any chance of winning against them. But how could he get it? Not at Hogwarts, surely. Harry felt a pang of regret at the thought of leaving his friends behind, but could not see any other solution. They should not have been mixed up in the whole mess in the first place. He swallowed the lump in his throat and continued thinking about possible moves he could make. One thing was positive; he had to leave the Dursley house. He had to hide and not inform neither Ron nor Hermione, or anyone else about his whereabouts. He could not trust anyone. And he would become stronger. He vowed that to himself and finally achieved some piece of mind and was able to close his eyes.

"Tomorrow" he murmured. Everything would start tomorrow.

Note: The real story begins in the next chapter. It will start out a little slow, but I promise nearly every word has its purpose, so… don't bite?

Reviews will be appreciated! How else will I know what you'd like?
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