The Deal | By : icicle33 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Voldemort Views: 6798 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2 |
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter characters or any part of the HP fandom or universe. This story is written purely for pleasure and no money is be made from it. None at all. |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any part of the HP universe. This story is written only for the purpose of enjoyment and to satisfy my own twisted obsession with the HP characters. I am not making any type of profit off this story and no copyright infringement is intended against J.K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic, etc and whoever else is lucky enough to own part of the HP franchise.
Warnings: features a powerful, tough Harry and a somewhat crackpot, supervillain Voldemort.
Author's note: Technically, this short ficlet takes place in the Father Dearest universe a little more than a year before the story starts; however, it can be read as a stand alone story. The only reference to FD is that Hermione is pining over Harry and they aren't best friends any longer. I hope you enjoy it.
~~~Remember this fic is only cannon compliant until GOF, then it goes AU. For this reason, Harry and Voldemort's relationship is a little different. Through their cursed connection, Harry and Voldemort can share thoughts telepathically. Also, my Voldemort is a bit dense. This is Voldemort and Harry's first meeting since the graveyard in GOF.
The Deal--Harry and Voldemort
: : :
Hermione had been up in her dormitory frantically worrying about Harry. Even though they weren't speaking much, she still cared for him. He had been acting so strangely that she forced herself to spy on him from her dormitory window. Earlier that evening, she had seen Harry go out for a walk. She desperately hoped that he wouldn't be gone too long. These days, all the students had earlier curfews...not that the rules even mattered to Harry. At one point, she had been Harry's conscience, guiding him and making sure that he made the right decisions. But that seemed like a lifetime ago. Today, he barely let her in at all. Most of the time, they barely even spoke, and all thanks to that bitch Cho Chang.
I hope she gets what's coming to her and soon. She just can't play with all the boys feelings, especially not with someone like Harry. Harry might look tough on the outside, but he's really just a terrified, fragile boy.
Where are you Harry? What could be so important?
: : : :
Harry was trying to figure out where Voldemort was going to strike next. He kept having the most vivid dreams that felt as if he were inside Voldemort's mind. But that just wasn't possible, right? He had wanted to tell someone, but who could he trust with something like this? Ron was still his mate, but he wouldn't understand. Even in the wizarding world, it wasn't a good sign to claim you were sharing dreams with a dark wizard, let alone a mentally unstable one.
Harry sighed as he rubbed his aching forehead, carefully tracing the slightly raised scar that was the cause of all of his problems. Fucking scar. There was always Dumbledore--the old man had always told Harry to come to him with any concerns he might have, but Dumbledore was making himself so scarce lately. He barely even made it to the Great Hall anymore; and the few times Harry had seen him around the castle, his usually bright eyes appeared dull. Even his skin had an unhealthy grey tinge. No, Dumbledore didn't look well, and the last thing he needed was Harry pestering him with his puerile nightmares.
Harry was practically an adult, anyway, and could take care of this on his own. Besides, now that Voldemort was back Harry knew what the bastard wanted. Only two things mattered to Voldemort, which Harry had clearly seen from his dreams: killing Harry and taking over Hogwarts.
Harry was hoping that it wouldn't be Hogwarts. He could understand Voldemort's obsession with the castle; hell, Harry could even argue that he had a similar obsession with the majestic castle since it had been the first place he could call home. Still, Voldemort had been rather quiet lately; there hadn't been any attacks, so Harry had foolishly assumed that at least for now...Hogwarts was safe.
But he was wrong.
He had no idea how he did it, but somehow Voldemort had found his way onto the castle grounds. It didn't appear that he could enter the castle just yet, but Harry was sure that it was only a matter of time. There had been rumours that Voldemort was gaining power by draining it from his followers, but Harry had refused to believe them. He didn't think that even Death Eaters, especially purebloods, would willingly let Voldemort drain them of even a portion of their magic. Perhaps after sucking all the magic out of Wormtail, old Snake Eyes, was strong enough to force all his followers to make a substantial donation of magical strength to their master.
Harry sighed again and wrapped his Gryffindor scarf tighter around his neck. He was sitting on a blanket right behind the Hogwarts gates and looking up at the stars. It was as if Harry knew that he was coming—as if that had been the reason for Harry to wait for him precisely by the gate. Have I gone mental?
Oh well, it didn't really matter how Voldemort had made it to the Hogwarts front gate or if Harry had actually dreamt that it would happen; no, all that mattered was that Harry had to make him leave. He needed to protect his school, his home. He would not let that megalomaniacal lunatic ruin his life. Again. It's now or never.
: : :
It was getting late now, definitely past curfew, and Harry had just about decided to call it a night. He was quite sleep deprived and felt somewhat dizzy from all the blood rushing to his head from star gazing. As he got up to pack his blanket, he muttered to himself, "Voldemort wouldn't dare show his face around here because of Dumbledore. Time for bed."
Then he heard an icy voice behind him.
"That's where you're wrong boy," the dark voice drawled so slowly and high pitched that it felt piercing. That voice was so familiar to Harry; it was the voice he heard every night in his dreams.
"Voldemort," Harry replied with a tone of surprise in his voice that he had failed to repress.
"Yes, Potter. I have come for you at last."
The hooded figure studied him with piercing red eyes and a devilish sneer fixed on his white lips. Harry just stared at him with disbelief, his jaw hanging down much too far.
"Don't look so awed, Potter. You knew this day would come," he continued, each word dripping with venom. "And besides, I visit you every night in your dreams anyway. The only difference is that tonight... I'm here in the flesh." He smiled at Harry, a rather toothy and terrifying grin. Harry was still in shock. Even though he had sat up all night and fantasised about how Voldemort would try to break into the school grounds, he hadn't concerned himself with what he would do if he were actually confronted by old Voldie. Bugger.
"Potter," Voldemort said coolly. "Are you ready to fight? If I remember correctly last time we met we were dueling, but you had to leave early, didn't you, Potter?" Voldemort quipped, sputtering his last name as if it were a foul word.
Harry remembered that night perfectly--that night last summer when he had just won the Triwizarding Tournament. He remembered seeing Voldemort order Wormtail to kill Cedric, seeing that monster become corporeal again, and worst of all, watching his wand and Voldemort's connect. That moment had been positively terrifying; Harry had been so sure that he was going to die as well--that he would be joining Cedric very soon, but that hadn't happened. Instead, he had been saved and accosted by the ghostly remains of his parents and Voldemort's past victims. Tears started forming in his eyes; he hated Voldemort with a passion--an irrefutable passion that would never cease until the bastard was dead.
Yes, Harry hated Voldemort even more than he hated Malfoy, which was actually saying quite a lot.
Harry smiled remembering the way his wand had connected to Voldemort's. If Voldemort tried anything, then the same thing would happen. His parents would save him again.
Unfortunately for him, at that moment, Harry heard a sneering voice in the back of his mind.
"Do you take me for some kind of an idiot, Potter? Do you really think I'm thick enough not to work out our little problem with the wands? Don't worry, I got a brand new wand that won't be the least bit attracted to yours."
Harry was nonplussed. He had just realised that Voldemort had been sending him messages without ever moving his lips. Harry had heard him in his mind; it was as if the message had been sent telepathically. Was that even possible?
"Pretty cool, huh? Ever since you lent me some of your blood last summer, I have been able to send you messages." Harry blinked at the demon in front of him. Huh?
"And yes, Potter, you can do the same."
"So you can read my mind?" Harry asked him, trying his best to keep the confusion off his face and appear calm.
"Something like that," the familiar icy voice replied inside his head.
"What the hell am I going to do?" thought Harry. "Oh fuck, Voldemort probably heard that."
"Give the boy a cigar," said the cold drawling voice. "Now, Potter, I'm going to finish what I started last summer. LOOK AT ME BOY!"
"NO!" shrieked Harry. He wasn't going to give in, not that easily. He had to try to do something, anything at all. He couldn't let this monster have access to his friends.
Voldemort sighed loudly. Apparently, he was getting frustrated with Harry. For a supervillain, the bloke sure doesn't have any patience.
"I'll just have to make you then, Potter. And I don't need patience. I'm the Dark Lord, the evillest wizard that ever lived. Hah," he snapped.
Harry felt his chin raise and he was staring Voldemort right in the eyes. Harry tried to look down, but he couldn't.
"That's better, Potter," he said, his pale lips breaking into a crooked smile. "Now, I see that you are pretty powerful for a 15-year-old boy. Am I right?"
"Exactly," spat Harry. "I'm more powerful than you'll ever be." And smarter too.
Voldemort let out an evil chuckle. It wasn't the slightest bit intimidating though; he kind of sounded like a dying hyena."I'm glad you're so confident, my little friend, because unless you do as I tell you, you will have to duel me."
"What is it that you want?" Harry asked. It's not a good idea to try to reason or barter with Evil Dark Overlords, but if it at least kept the loser talking then it would buy Harry some time that he desperately needed.
"Just one little thing. I'll give you everything you want, Potter." He locked eyes with Harry and smiled at him; the grin was completely forced and terrifying, but Harry assumed that this was Riddle's version of a sweet smile.
I won't harm your friends," he continued, still smiling. "You'll be Quidditch captain. You can have your own personal concubine if you want. All you have to do is one little favour for me."
"What is it?" Harry asked hesitantly. While the idea of his own personal concubine had a certain appeal, he couldn't let himself be swayed by such cheap promises of grandeur and pleasure.
"Join me, Potter. Join me. You have the qualities of a great wizard in the making; well, if you are trained properly at least. Can you imagine you and me working as a team? We'll be invincible. No one will be able to touch us—" He started cackling his supposedly evil laugh again.
Harry bit his bottom lip in frustration and was furious. Did Voldemort really think he was that heartless that he would sell out his entire school for a little bit of power? He wasn't an evil Slytherin.
"Why the fuck would I do that, Tom?" he snarled, making sure to emphasise the other man's given name.
Voldemort locked eyes with Harry and removed his hood slowly. Harry was proud at himself for not gasping when he got a better look at Voldemort's deranged face. His bald head was now covered with black markings, and at the side of his neck, a large snake tattoo coiled around it, hissing at Harry.
"Because Potter, I can give you everything you want. Everything you've ever dreamed of." He smiled that impish grin at him again, which this time did cause Harry to flinch. "I told you that I would keep your friends and loved ones safe. I don't want to destroy this school," he said, his voice softer than before, "I love this school. I just want to give it more order and discipline."
"That's not good enough."
"It's not?" Voldemort questioned, his red eyes glowing now. "Then how about this for a deal? If you join me, not only will I not harm your friends. You will have my word in blood...that together we will bring your parents back." He paused for a second. "Everything will be as it should be, and you will sit at my right hand while we change the entire wizarding world for the better. You will have a say in all decisions."
Harry gasped; this time, he didn't even bother attempting to hide his shock.
"How's that for a deal, oh-boy-who-wouldn't-bloody-die?"
TBC or Fin...
: : :
Author's note: Don't you just love the cliffhanger ending? I know, I'm evil...I can't tell you what Harry chooses just yet. Eventually, it will become evident in Father Dearest. However, if people really enjoy this and want me to continue let me know. What do you think Harry chooses?
Remember comments make my day, and if you want me to respond leave your email address in the review.
-Icicle
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