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Weapon	By : uqui Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Voldemort Views: 105432 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 26
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 14
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Weapon (Possession Chapter LXVI)

Chapter XV - Final House Cleaning

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Elliot shivered and fought to hold back the whimpers. He'd prided
himself on being a proud member of the Order of the Phoenix, of being able to
fight, to duel maybe not brilliantly but adequately when necessary and in his
reporting for the Daily Prophet, he'd prided himself on being able to face all
- good and bad - that wizards could offer.
He was wrong.
The Dark Lord had dragged him through the shifting corridors of his
stronghold. It had been a confusing mass of colour and there was no way he
could have navigated it alone. It seemed there had been red masked Death Eaters
at every junction and they had all fallen into line behind their Lord, moving
silently. They'd emerged into a court yard where further Death Eaters waited, all
red masked and silent. Serpents, too many to count had been gathered in a
corner in one writhing mass. Behind them, strangely still but chillingly in
their presence was a small group of Dementors.
The Dark Lord had released him then, pinning him in place with no more than
a half glance as he'd stepped forward to address his children. Elliot didn't
remember much of the speech. It had been a coldly logical address though and
the battle plan had been laid out with callous precision. There had been no
cheering, not excesses, nothing anyone associated with the dark forces.
They'd deployed silently, leaving their Lord alone. He'd flicked a charm at
the gathered serpents after hissing a few words at them. They'd sorted
themselves into some order but Elliot wasn't sure what they'd been called upon
to do. The Dementors had bowed at him and then
retreated back into the castle.
Once everyone and everything was deployed the Dark Lord had cast a further
charm on himself, transfiguring his robes into heavy red velvet. Elliot wasn't
sure was else he did with the transfiguration but he knew it was something. The
Dark Lord had seemed powerful before the transfiguration, now he seemed
invincible. With that, the long fingered hand had reached out again, grabbing
him and there had been a pulse of power as the Dark Lord apparated.
Straight into hell.
That had been Elliot's first thought as he tried to look around the battle.
He'd thought they were going to take a building, but this wasn't a building.
This was open combat. There were small groups of wizards facing off against
Death Eaters and waves of magic pulsed back and forth over the field. He looked
up at the imposing visage of the Dark Lord but He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was
simply raking red eyes over the entire field, his expression stoic as he took
in the results of his orders.
With a flourish of red robes the Dark Lord had stepped forward, casting
charms with an accuracy that was hard to imagine. Elliot was vaguely aware of
two red masked Death Eaters, descending upon him, strangely calm and collected
within the chaos as they dragged him after their Master.
Bryant had stopped trying to fight the movement then, and allowed himself to
be directed amidst the carnage, his legs just supporting him as the two Death
Eaters wove their way through everything. He was defenceless, his wand was back
on the table in that other room and even if he could have grabbed a wand from
one of the fallen there was nothing he could do.
Above them a mottled dome was in place and Bryant felt his eyes widen as he
recognised what it was. Displacement magic. It seemed
incongruous that the Dark Lord would bother with such precaution: when did he
care about the knowledge of Muggles? But he was the
only one who could have cast such a large shield. The Ministry building and all
within the shield would remain separate from the outside world until he, or
someone else took the shield down. And the Muggles
would know nothing! He gulped, watching the Dark Lord, confused. Had he truly
been telling the truth about not caring, yet, about ruling the Muggles?
Elliot shook his head at the question before he re-focused his attention on
the red robed Dark Lord. He had other things to consider now. He remembered the
fear of the previous war but he hadn't been old enough to fight and there had
only been rumours about You-Know-Who's prowess. He gulped as he realised the
situation had not been understated.
Charms and curses were cast with the minimum amount of movement and it
seemed for most spells he didn't even bother with the correct wand motion. His
targeting was unerringly accurate and as Elliot watched several groups of
wizards were taken out with a few well placed curses. But as he watched he
noticed something peculiar.
The Dark Lord never attacked anyone within at least a twenty foot radius of
himself. As several more groups fell, Elliot gulped as he understood the
reasoning.
The small groups of wizards knew they had been attacked as soon as the first
curse or charm broke within them and they then began searching for the
perpetrator but in a battle such as this, where the combatants were always in
motion it was difficult and they invariably looked towards the closest Death
Eaters first. Once they confirmed that the attack hadn't come from them, in
fact they were still accurately shielding against any close groups of Death
Eaters, they began searching a wider radius for their attacker, and by then it
was too late.
A few groups had managed to identify their attacker, and their eyes had
widened in fear but that was only an instant before the final curse took
effect. Elliot blinked back tears as he watched the fluid movements of the
serpentine man. The rumours were true, every last one of them. He was truly a
god of battle.
The Dark Lord glanced at the ground and hissed a few words to the serpent
there before he turned with a smile towards the reporter. "It is nearly
over," he reassured him, flicking a curse over the man's head at the
wizard which was approaching from the rear. "They were slightly more
ingenious with their defences than I thought," he said conversationally
and Elliot couldn't help but notice the pleased smirk that appeared in the Dark
Lord's voice. "What have you learnt, Bryant?"
"What is there to learn but the proof of your cruelty, your ability to
destroy?"
Voldemort shook his head. "For a reporter, you see, but you do not see.
A typical trait for one of the Order, I will admit, but one I had hoped the Old
Man might have made some effort to weed out. Look around you."
Elliot looked again. He tried not to focus on the few battles still being
waged, knowing that they would be over soon but looked towards the outskirts of
the battle ground. Several Death Eaters were bent over other wizards, their
wands in hand, and for a moment he thought that they were delivering the
killing blow, until he noticed the soft violet haze of the magic,
and gentle manner that other Death Eaters levitated their injured colleagues
with before they apparated away. There were other
Death Eaters moving through the injured but they were attending to the wizards.
"H... healers?" He blurted disbelievingly.
The Dark Lord looked smug. "I do care for my own," he said coldly
before he turned away again, leaving the reporter to his even more confused
thoughts.
Bryant shook his head. It isn't possible. The thought would not go
away as he struggled to breath around the shock
coursing through his system.
A small group of Death Eaters formed up and entered the building they had
been assigned to attack, an escort of serpents surrounding them.
He looked around further and sure enough most of the groups of wizards,
those that were still conscious or alive were dropping their wands and being
rounded up by the Death Eaters. They were being searched and other weapons and
back up wands were being removed with swift efficiency before they were
gathered into a singular group. The red masked Death Eaters made a perimeter
around them, wands levelled and in plain sight. Several serpents wove their way
around and through the wizards, their tongues continually testing the air as
they sniffed out any potions or weapons that had not been detected.
It was all being conducted with quiet efficiency that Elliot knew the Order
would be hard pressed, at least without significant training together, to
duplicate. Only the most elite teams of Aurors or Unspeakables, those what had been together for years could
hope to match the ease of efficiency. Elliot gulped. They had far more work
ahead of them that he had ever believed possible.
After another hissed conversation with a serpent, a python this time, he
turned burning red eyes towards the gathered wizards. They were shifting
nervously as the gravity of the situation began to dawn upon them. Not only had
they been defeated but now they were totally at the mercy of the most evil Dark
Lord in memory, and they were completely defenceless. You could see the worry
and the panic begin to dawn in their eyes. They had known it but it had taken a
few moments for the information to really sink in. The cold calculating gaze of
the Dark Lord seemed to have that effect.
The Death Eaters dragging Elliot dropped him unceremoniously in a position
where he could observe everything and he felt a cold chill run down his spine.
He didn't need to look to know that they had taken a step back and now had
their wands trained upon him.
"Where is the Deputy Minister for Public Relations?" The voice was
quiet but Bryant wasn't the only one who shivered at the tone and he knew that
all the gathered wizards had heard it.
"He's... he's... not here." One of the wizards in the front
stuttered, their eyes downcast.
One black eyebrow raised questioningly and the Dark
Lord stepped forward. Slowly with an imperial air that defied description he
reached out one long fingered hand to place one finger under the wizard's chin
to raise their face to meet his gaze.
A condescending smirk appeared on his lips and his eyes were half hooded as
he whispered again, ignoring the shaking of the wizard before him. "Where
is the Deputy Minister for Public Relations?" The Dark Lord's voice even
pitched at a whisper was still rich, like velvet but it was infinitely more
dangerous.
The wizard shuddered, shrugging to look away but
the Dark Lord help him firmly. He gulped, not a mean feat against the finger
pressed under his chin. "He's not here."
There was a collective gasp as a small serpent appeared from the Dark Lord's
sleeve. It inched forward, its tongue flickering. It was marked with brilliant
red and black scales and several of the wizards flinched back as they realised
how poisonous it was. Eventually it reared off the Dark Lord's hand to look
into the wizard's eyes, its coils wrapped around his arm, disappearing into his
sleeve. With a soft hiss and a snap so quiet it shouldn't have been heard but
that seemed deafening its hood opened and it began to weave back and forth. The
threat was obvious.
"You stink of the lie," Voldemort said easily, his eyes intent.
"Where is the Deputy Minister for Public Relations? I will not ask
again."
The wizard's eyes opened wide as the sheen of sweat covering him deepened.
Tears began streaming down his face and you could see the calculation in his
eyes. To tell, or not to tell. To
live or die.
The Dark Lord looked on impassively. He could see everything but was unmoved
by either the mounting tension or the panic. In fact he seemed to be radiating
pleasure.
"I..."
Voldemort raised the wizard's head higher.
"I... I don't..."
As the wizard was speaking there came a shout from the building as the red
masked Death Eaters who had stormed it earlier emerged from the door dragging a
prisoner with them.
The Dark Lord bent low and whispered into the wizard's ear, "Be sure
it's worth it before you die," before he rose and waited for the prisoner
to be brought before him. The cobra had disappeared back into his robes.
The man kicked and screamed, struggling for all he was worth as the Death
Eaters dragged him towards their Lord. With a casual back hand though, one of
the Death Eaters stunned him briefly and they completed the short journey
quickly, bowing before their Lord. A serpent gave a short hissed report which
caused the Dark Lord to grin, leading most of the wizards to shiver again.
"My dear Tidius Moulton," Voldemort
greeted the Deputy Minister for Public Relations easily. "It's been too
long." The sense of regal imperialism had not faded.
Tidius looked up with wild eyes at the voice but
he said nothing as he shook his head vigorously. Most of the wizards were
looking on with shock and the one that had been questioned by the Dark Lord was
shivering uncontrollably as he realised the truth.
"Moulton, Moulton, Moulton, you never told them?" Voldemort
laughed. "Well, of course you didn't. The Ministry couldn't have a
precious Ministerial position held by a Death Eater, now could they?"
"No..." Tidius whispered.
"You have had over a year to return to me," the Dark Lord said
coldly, his aura of imperial power at full strength, eyes half closed as he
looked in disgust at the man. "I have called numerous times but still you
did not answer. Did you perhaps forget your vow to me?"
"My Lord... please..." One eye brow
raised as the Dark Lord pulled his chin up.
"My children..." Tidius sobbed.
"Will be spared," Voldemort snapped. "You are merely stupid
to ignore me but not suicidal enough to be involved in Lucius'
action. Pray though, that they do not repeat their Father's mistake."
"Tha...Eargh!"
Moulton screamed, his face twisted in horror, limbs
contorted at the Dark Lord's gesture. He retained enough of his mind though to
try to claw at his arm as he writhed in agony. It only took a few moments but
to the watching wizards it seemed to take forever before Tidius'
face blackened and his final breath left him in a rush.
The Dark Lord disregarded the body as he looked around. "You disagree
with my decision?" He asked Elliot at the reporters horrified** but
questioning look.
"You killed him!"
"Of course," Voldemort said matter of factly.
"There was no reason to kill him."
"There was every reason to kill him. He swore an oath to me. Your vow
to the Order of the Phoenix
is binding for life, why should mine be any different?"
Elliot gulped, trying and failing in his attempt not to quail under that
intense gaze as the Dark Lord walked towards him. He opened his mouth to speak
but the words failed him and as he gathered himself to try again, he was
interrupted.
"Die, traitor!"
The scream came from one of the red masked Death Eaters who as their Lord
passed by, spun away from his guarding position, drawing a dagger and driving
it towards the Dark Lord's back.
Elliot blinked. He never even saw the movement and only registered the
concerned cries from the other Death Eaters once it was over. Voldemort moved,
too fast to see, dodging the blow aimed at his unprotected back, somehow
managing to catching the perpetrators arms with his
left hand, flipping the man so that he was suspended, back to the ground, in
the Dark Lord's grip. A long fingered white hand was wrapped around the left
side of his chest and as the mask fell, they could see that the man was
grimacing in pain. Blood red eyes burned intensely as the Dark Lord looked down
and his robes fell around him as they caught up with the movement.
"I thought you would have known better, Amir," Voldemort murmured.
Before Amir could respond there was a wet crack and he gasped, gurgling. The
cracking continued and Amir gasped**, blood streaming from his mouth. He tried
to scream but choked and his feet tapped a rapid stattaco
on the ground as his eyes bulged. There was the smell of burning and the slick
sound of something wet falling to the ground was heard before the Dark Lord let
the body drop. With an indifferent snap of his hand he flicked the blood from
his fingers, splattering several wizards.
Elliot wasn't the only one to gag at the sight of the body. The entire left
side of the chest was one bloody mess. Bones protruded through skin and cloth
in a disordered mess. Bubbles were popping softly through the blood and the
flesh was burnt.
"You're..." Bryant coughed as he struggled to keep his stomach
calm. The Dark Lord had done that all with his bare hands! "You're not
human."
"I never claimed to be," the response came nonchalantly before
Voldemort turned back to the wizards. "You have been utterly defeated, I
think that much is obvious, but I can be merciful." Even the Dark Lord
smiled at the irony of his words, two dead bodies at his feet and the blood
still dripping from his hands. "No matter what you may think, I do not
need corpses and so for now, I will leave. Consider this a warning, for I will
not be merciful forever."
The Dark Lord raised his hands, energy collecting there and despite his
words, the wizards flinched back. He smiled, that gastly
smile that made a mockery of the word and raised both hands, "Noitaniur," he whispered, loud enough to
be heard as a ball of red energy coalsed in each
hand.
With a lazy flick he sent the first one into the Ministry building. It
burned its way neatly through the wall and for an instant it didn't seem like
there was any damage. Then came the boom and the sound
of timber being stressed and collapsing on itself. Dust began to pour out of
the shattered door.
The other ball of energy was thrown in, although the Dark Lord left his arm
extended, his hand open wide. The second energy ball disappeared into the dust,
but its crash through the walls and internal structure of the building could be
heard.
With a slow motion Voldemort closed his long fingered hand into a fist. The
noise was incredible and most of the wizards were cringing backwards. The dust
was obsurcing everything so they couldn't see what
was happening but they didn't need to.
Finally the crashing noise ceased and all that could be heard was the
occasional bounce and crunch of small rumble settling. With a wave of his hand
the Dark Lord summoned a wind and drove away the dust to reveal the ruins of
the building
Plaster and timber rose at odd angles and nothing looked whole.
"I must remember to thank Lucius for that
charm," Voldemort murmured as he once more made a small gesture before
proudly pronouncing the words that caused the wizards the shudder. The building
was bad enough but these words had been drilled into them to fear for their
lives. "Morsmordre!"
The emerald skull made of stars with its snake tongue rose into the air,
expanding as it moved to hover over the destroyed building. But this time the
skull was different. Emerging from the skulls temples and from a point behind
the serpent's ears, down on it's body, made of little
black stars were wings. Like everything else on the mark they were perfectly
defined.
The Dark Lord looked at his hand, flexing his fingers before he smiled
again. "I should have expected that," he said unconcerned at the
change in his symbol.
"Next time, bow to me or die."
With that Voldemort nodded towards his forces and as one they vanished. He
raked ruby eyes once more over the still trembling wizards, most of whom didn't dare breathe before he gave a rich laugh and
vanished, the echo of his mirth lingering in the air.
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