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In Servitude of the Dark : My Obiesance	By : xXxLuckyxXx Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Voldemort Views: 39418 -:- Recommendations : 5 -:- Currently Reading : 12
Disclaimer: This story is based off of J.K. Rowling’s amazing Harry Potter series. All characters, locations, themes from the world of HP belong to her. This is not for money or profit. I am just having fun playing in her magical world.

Chapter List
- 15
- 16
- 17
A/N: Okay, why did I only give Harry 4 days to sever the link? Well, it takes an average of 4 days for red blood cells to mature from the bone marrow. So in four days, Voldemort will have made enough of his own blood to overcome Harry’s.
Also, I am very nervous about posting this chapter. That’s why it took me soooo BLOODY LONG to post. I know there’s a lot of high expectations and personal opinions for how Voldemort should turn out and I know some of you will hate him, while others love him. Over the next few chapters, whether you love or despise him, I can only hope I’ve made you feel it strongly.
Chapter 17 : Lord Voldemort’s Resurrection - December 17
Great Hall Right After Harry Disappears
Thanks to Harry’s cue, Severus was prepared for the pandemonium that arouse when the Granger girl screamed like a banshee. “Do not touch a thing!” Severus growled, his long strides taking him quickly to the Gryffindors.
Sirius had jumped over the table in a rush, demanding what happened.
“Everyone, please calm down,” Dumbledore ordered, a sonorous magnifying his voice. “Heads of Houses, will you escort your students to their dorms, except the Gryffindor 4^th years. Sinestra, please take the Slytherins.”
By the time Dumbledore made it to the horrified Gryffindors, Severus had already contained the pile of letters with a protective bubble. “Ms. Granger, can you tell us what happened?”
“I…I don’t know!” Hermione sobbed. “He was just opening his gifts like normal…”
“He just disappeared,” Ron continued, looking sort of shell shocked.
“It’s got to be a portkey,” Sirius said, glaring darkly at the pile, sitting innocently on the breakfast table. “How could we be so stupid!”
“Ms. Granger, did you by any chance see what object Harry touched?” Dumbledore asked kindly.
Hermione shook her head regretfully.
“I think it was some kind of bracelet,” Ron answered. “It was silver and looked kind of girlish. I didn’t get a good look at it.”
Dumbledore nodded his thanks. “I’m afraid we will have to report this,” he said, looking none too pleased about the prospects. Having the Boy-Who-Lived snatched right out from under his nose was going to be another offense on top of a growing list that he knew Andromeda Tonks was keeping.
It took a while to organize everyone, since the foreign schools were clamoring for answers, demanding Dumbledore to do something to ensure their students were safe too. The only blessing was that the reporters hadn’t gotten wind of this yet, although all of them knew it wouldn’t take them long before they stormed the castle.
After that, the aurors began their investigations. They confiscated the pile of gifts and interviewed all the students who sat close to Harry Potter. Ron had to take Hermione to Madam Pomphrey for a Calming Draught. Meanwhile, Severus, Andromeda, Sirius, Dumbledore, and Amelia Bones met up in the Headmaster’s office.
“Our preliminary reports indicate that Mr. Potter was abducted by an over-zealous fan,” Amelia said. “Or someone posing as such.”
“And were you able to trace the portkey?” Sirius asked. Having been a former auror, he knew how an investigation was conducted.
“I’m afraid not, Mr. Black,” Amelia said regretfully. “It was untraceable. Now in addition to over-zealous fans, can any of you think of who might want to kidnap Mr. Potter?”
“It cannot be a coincidence that Harry’s cousin went missing,” Dumbledore said. “And a week later, so too does Harry.”
Severus shook his head, not wanting the two incidences to be linked together. “Any of the usual suspects who might have wanted to hurt Harry will have no reason to kidnap the muggle cousin as well, while leaving the aunt and uncle untouched,” he said. “If this is some Death Eater plot, which I haven’t heard anything about, they would sooner slaughter the whole family instead of bothering with an abduction.”
Andromeda turned to Amelia. “How far has your investigation gotten on the missing cousin?”
“We’ve unearth a long history of violence,” Amelia answered, her voice becoming distant as she tried to recall the file. “Dudley Dursley became a bully at a very young age, terrifying the neighborhood children. Some reported seeing Dudley engaging in some sport called Harry Hunting, where he and his friend Polkiss would literally hunt Mr. Potter down like an animal and proceed to beat him up. Broken bones were the norm, not the exception. This seems consistent with the medical report provided by Severus Snape. Later, muggle reports indicate that Dudley Dursley became a member of the local gang, involved with illegal muggle drugs and violent vandalism. It is common for these troubled teens to run away from home or get injured or killed by rival gang members.” She shook her head. “Sad case all around, and to think we left our Savior there, unchecked, for ten years.”
To this, everyone glowered at Dumbledore. “I still maintain he was safe under his mother’s protection,” he said firmly. “True, he may not have been raised in a loving environment, but had he been left to his own devises, no doubt he would even be alive to return to the wizarding world.”
“That is mere speculation,” Andromeda scoffed. “And excusing the abuse of a wizarding child.”
“So what is the next step?” Severus asked.
“I can assure you the entire Auror corps will devote our time and energy to locating Mr. Potter,” she said. “There will also be postings in the Daily Prophet and the Wireless. An award will be given for anyone who can step forward with information leading up Mr. Potter’s recovery.”
Severus nodded in understanding. “I will use my own contacts as well,” he added, and they all knew the kind of people he was talking about. “What about the students, Albus?”
Dumbledore sighed, looking every year of his age. “I will give the students the option to return home,” he said. “But if there are enough students staying, then I will go forth with the Yule Ball.”
“You’re going to keep celebrating?” Sirius protested, incredulously. “Who knows what’s happening to my godson right now, and…”
“Mr. Black,” Amelia interrupted. “As of right now, we don’t know anything concrete. Until we do, we can’t afford mass panic. It will be best to continue as you expect Mr. Potter to return in good health.”
Sirius grumbled unhappily about this, and Severus almost felt bad for the man, but certainly not enough to reveal their plans to him.
_O o 0 ^O0 o _Oo 0 ^O0 o _O o 0 ^O0 o _O
December 21, 1994
On the day of the Dark Lord’s resurrection, Severus arrived with news of Dumbledore’s and the Ministry’s reactions to Harry Potter’s kidnapping. To all of their amusement, Dumbledore was getting a lot of unwanted scrutiny from the press. Also, someone had leaked rumors about Harry’s abuse. The Ministry wasn’t commenting on anything yet, but there were plenty of people at Hogwarts who had a lot to say about little things they’ve noticed in Harry’s first two years. Severus’ own medical reports went a long way to supporting these rumors.
“They are even considering a criminal investigation,” Severus concluded.
Instead of tea, everyone was drinking water. Harry and Voldemort were the only two people who had to fast today for the ritual, so in deference to them, no one else was going to eat anything either. Harry had tried to protest, but Severus in particular was adamant about it, knowing how too often Harry had to watch his relatives eat the food he cooked, without getting a bite of it himself.
Finally, at about 10:30 pm Harry went to take his ritual bath, physically and magically cleansing himself. After it was done, Severus was there to provide him with an undyed, hand-made cotton bath robe. “Are you ready for this?” he asked as they made their way to the ritual room.
Harry nodded, water dripping from his hair. “I’m just a little nervous,” he admitted. “But since all I really have to do is lie there and bleed, I suppose I can’t mess that up.”
“You do realize this will not be a painless experience,” Severus said worriedly.
“Blood and Pain is my sacrifice. Marvolo explained it all to me,” Harry said reassuringly. “And it’s not like I’m Malfoy, or anything. He’d cry if he got a stupid splinter.”
Severus snorted, knowing Harry was just trying to break the tension with a little humor and bravado, so he went along with it. “Cocky brat.”
Meanwhile, Barty, Marvolo, and Voldemort were preparing the ritual room. By the time Harry arrived, the table/alter, bearing Dudley’s skeleton, was already positioned in the center of the ritual circle. 13 black candles, unlit, were planted around the circle. A foot above the alter hung a large harness, made of acromantula silk, where Harry would lie on so that the blood dripping off his body would splatter directly on top of the skeleton.
The runes were already inscribed into the bones, they were also painted around the ritual circle, and now all that needed to be done was to inscribe runes into Harry’s flesh. He was not so much nervous about the knife as he was about having to discard the only article of clothing on his body. After all, dueling regularly with Severus had upped his pain tolerance to quite an impressive level.
But alas, Harry couldn’t put it off any longer. Blushing brightly, Harry let the robe slip off his slender shoulders and pool at his feet, resisting the urge to cover himself. Not looking at anyone in particular, he stepped forward where Voldemort carried a very sharp ritual knife.
“Do you require being bound?” Voldemort asked.
Harry knew even one little twitch of his muscles could ruin all their work, but he was pretty certain he could handle the pain. “No sir,” Harry answered, still looking up at the ceiling as if the water damage marks were the most fascinating thing in the world.
“When this is over, you will address me appropriately.”
Harry’s green eyes flickered back to the golem and nodded solemnly.
“Severus, cast the episko now.”
Goosebumps prickled his bare skin, as Harry felt Severus’ modified episkey wash over him. It would prevent any wound from bleeding out until Severus allowed it.
Then Harry braced himself for the cold touch of the blade and shivered as he felt it slip into his skin, soft like butter. He followed the path of the blade in his mind, a trail of ice cold fire, opting rather to not watch his own mutilation. Instead of having a bunch of little runes carved into him, there would only be two large ones. The Eihaz, rune for Life, looked like a three branched tree. This was carved onto his front, spanning from collar bones to pubic bone. The other was Engwaz, the rune of Power, which looked like a diamond. This was carved into his back.
It wasn’t very deep, but it stung painfully. As promised he didn’t move a muscle, only allowing himself a low hiss of discomfort. Really, the truly tortuous thing about this was the fact that he was just standing there and letting them cut him. Some part of his mind rebelled at this, but compared to one of Vernon’s bad days, this was barely noticeable, especially with the knife being so sharp.
“Almost over,” Marvolo crooned softly in his ear, all the while keeping up a litany of assurances. “So proud of you, you’re absolutely beautiful….Now, now, try not to blush, little one, or you’ll ruin Severus’ episko….”
Finally, Voldemort finished with both the front and the back. When that was done, someone, most likely Severus, levitated him up onto the suspended net. Harry had insisted on being placed face down so he could watch the proceedings below, even though this would mean he’d watch his own blood splatter onto the white bones.
Then both Marvolo and Voldemort entered the circle, standing on either sides of the alter, giving each other a nod to begin. Suddenly, all 13 black candles instantly flared to life, signaling the start of the ritual. Harry felt a thrill of excitement. This was it. This was what they had been working towards for years. And finally the fruits of their labor…the rebirth of a Dark Lord…
“Bones of the Youth, forcefully taken…You will make us strong!” Voldemort and Marvolo chanted in stereo, each touching the skeleton and causing the inscribed runes to light up. The first taste of magic rose from the alter, making Harry shiver in delight. All that planning, and waiting, and the endless training…after tonight, everything will change.
“Ashes of our flesh, rightfully returned…You will restore our form!” Voldemort sprinkled a pinch of the ash Harry collected from Godric’s Hallow. Harry’s eyes grew wide in awe when a soft white glow began pulsating right where the body’s heart would be. Harry could feel it’s every beat, pounding like the eye of a storm. Power building and BUILDING and BUILDING….
“Blood of the faithful, willingly given…You will give us life!”
That was his cue. Harry whispered the counter to the episko, feeling a flash of sharp pain over his cuts before they all began oozing. Thick drops of blood dripped off him, splashing onto the bones below, staining them dark red. Harry gasped in rapture, as wave after wave of delicious dark magic washed over him.
His Lord will be Glorious!
The skeleton below began glowing red, taking the vague outline of a human body. At Voldemort’s nod, the two souls, one much larger than the other, sunk into this light. The golem crumpled right where Voldemort vacated it, like a discarded rag doll.
Harry had to squint as magic swirled and coalesced around the alter, literally building the Dark Lord’s body from blood, ash, and bones. At last, it all solidified when the Dark Lord’s eyes snapped open and he took his first gasping breath. The shock of being alive was evident in how the powerful body arched back as if hit by a forceful jolt of lightening, all his muscles and tendons stood out in stark relief against the wild dancing of candle lights.
My Lord! Harry breathed in awe, feeling as though he’d fallen in love all over again.
Inanely, Harry thought the man looked brilliant for being over 60 years old, looking only a few years older than Marvolo’s 30 years. And what a difference having a little color made!
Before Harry could get a better glimpse at the rest of the body, Barty had rushed forward with a cloak, which the Dark Lord used to cover his form. Harry pushed himself upwards, feeling slightly dizzy at the loss of blood, and wandlessly healed his cuts before joining Severus, kneeling on the floor. All three of them were looking up at their newly resurrected Lord in rapture as the---very handsome looking---man flexed his fingers, his legs, and generally grew accustomed to having a body once again.
“Is it to your satisfaction, My Lord?” Barty asked eagerly.
Voldemort gave the three of them a smirk in response. “More than satisfactory,” he practically purred. “I am pleased with you all. Barty, Severus, wait for me in the Lobby. There are some personal things I need to discuss with Harry.”
Severus looked hesitant to leave Harry alone, but Harry shooed him away with his eyes, not wanting them to get in trouble already. As the door closed behind Severus, Harry felt strong wards rise up, ensuring no one would interrupt them.
“My Lord?” Harry asked a little nervously.
“You have done me a great service this night,” he said.
Harry smiled brightly. “It was a great honor, My Lord.”
“Mmm…which leaves me with a slight dilemma, you see.”
Before Harry could ask what it was, he suddenly found himself bound in thick golden ropes. Instinctively, Harry’s magic lashed out, cutting the ropes, but before he could get completely free of them, the Dark Lord threw a series of wandless curses at him.
“Sangious… Sanguious… Sanguious… Sanguious…”
Harry dodged the first one out of pure instinct, and managed to counter the next two. But he was nude, without his weapons or his wand, and he was weakened from all the blood loss. The last sanguious caught up with him and made all his wounds reappear on his skin. It was a dark curse that kept his blood from congealing, and Harry’s drained magic was having trouble fighting it off. Slipping on a puddle of his own blood, Harry lost his footing which allowed the Dark Lord to bind him again, this time with a more powerful version of the incarcerous.
Wincing in pain, Harry looked up to the red eyed man in confusion. “Why are you doing this?” he asked, chest heaving against the ropes as he gasped for breath.
Voldemort knelt down and gently combed through his blood matted hair. “ This is one death that I do not take pleasure in, this I assure you,” he said, looking almost regretful.
Harry’s eyes widened in horror. “But, but why?”
“Can you not guess,” Voldemort asked. “You are the only one who can defeat me. And while you would be a great asset to my ranks, you are simply too dangerous to let live.”
Cold dread settled in Harry’s gut. He felt so utterly stupid, and betrayed, and hurt. Marvolo had warned him again and again to be careful, but in his childish naivety, he hadn’t taken his friend’s words seriously. “So now what? You’ll go torture some muggles to celebrate? Slaughter wizarding Britain for fun?”
“No, the insanity has been alleviated,” Voldemort answered, still in that infuriating calmness. “I am not the fractured man I once was. We can all thank my horcrux for that much at least.”
“His name’s Marvolo!” Harry hissed, eyes narrowing.
Voldemort continued as if Harry hadn’t spoken. “Which makes this task all the more onerous. But it must be done. I cannot afford for you to live.”
Harry watched the man’s red eyes carefully. The eyes were steady, calm, and even slightly regretful. This only confused Harry more. “It won’t work!” he shouted, desperately searching for something to make the other change his mind. “We don’t know what caused the Avada to rebound off me that night. It might happen again…”
“I have learned my lesson,” he replied. “No, I will allow time to take care of you for me instead.”
Harry was still puzzling that out when he suddenly felt Voldemort grasp his arm and the two of them apparated. Harry, still bound and bleeding, landed on his side painfully on the stone floor. To his horror, he realized he was inside a dungeon cell.
“You…You’re just going to leave me locked in here to bleed to death?” he shouted, rolling up to his knees, ready to charge or attack.
Voldemort did not answer, at least not verbally. Instead, he apparated again, but simply appeared on the other side of the thick steel bars.
“Come back here!” Tears of anger and betrayal clouded Harry’s vision, burning hot streaks down his bloodied face. “You can’t do this. I’ll give a wizard’s oath to never attack you. I’ll do anything…you can’t just leave me here to die.” Harry knew he was begging, but it didn’t seem to affect the other man. The Dark Lord’s perfect face was unmoved as if it were cut from stone. “Please, Marvolo…I want to talk to Marvolo!”
That got a reaction out of him.
Voldemort narrowed his eyes at the mention of his horcrux and threw a silencing charm on the sobbing teen. “I will return once a day to renew the sanguinous curse until you are dead. Die in honor, knowing that for your services to the Dark, you will be given a funeral worthy of your sacrifice.” And with that, Voldemort spun on his heels, walking swiftly away.
No, no, NO! This can’t be happening…This can’t be happening… For a while all Harry’s mind could do was replay a litany of denials. Everything was going so perfectly, so how did it turn out all wrong?
It took a while, but after Harry got over the shock of being abandoned, he finally noticed the magic suppressors in the cell. It kept him from accessing his wandless magic. All he could really do was curl up, trying to preserve as much body heat as he could. He couldn’t even have the solace of hearing himself cry or scream thanks to the silencing charm.
As the adrenalin ebbed away, he grew shocky and lightheaded. The conversation he had with Marvolo floated like a hazy fog into his mind.
“If the worst happens tomorrow, and a monster rises from the alter, I want you to go deep inside yourself, find our link and sever it.”
“Sever it! But if your soul is bound to my blood…”
“Then our souls will be released.”
“You mean you’ll die!”
Harry clenched his eyes tightly. Yes, he had the option of ending this. Marvolo had foreseen this possibility and gave him a failsafe, an out. Never before had Harry been so grateful for the other’s paranoia and knack for planning. With the Dark Lord’s death, the sanguious curse would be lifted and he didn’t have to die here, cold, naked, and alone.
And life would go on.
“But he’s not a monster,” Harry knew. There was no hint of the insanity that the golem displayed. It was just cold, hard logic that drove the Dark Lord to kill him…that and the stupid Prophesy. Which begged the question, if Marvolo cured the Dark Lord of his insanity, why couldn’t he save Harry’s life too?
“I have 4 days before I have to decide,” Harry told himself. For now, all he wanted to do was sleep, being so physical and emotionally drained.
_O o 0 ^O0 o _Oo 0 ^O0 o _O o 0 ^O0 o _O
Voldemort walked stiffly into the lobby where Severus and Barty were still waiting for him. His duel with Harry Potter and subsequent imprisonment had only taken half an hour. The boy really was in no shape to duel him. He looked at his two Death Eaters in satisfaction as they both dropped to their knees upon his arrival, showing him the reverence that he was due.
§Master,§ Nagini slithered up enthusiastically. §You are restored!§ she hissed, climbing up so that she could hang over her Master’s shoulder again for the first time in 13 years.
Voldemort’s new body was indeed as strong as they’d built it to be, able to support Nagini’s 80lbs of pure muscle. He caressed her nose as he turned his attention to the two men, still kneeling. “You may rise,” he said and sat on one of the chairs, luxuriating at the feel of actually feeling again. While his sight and hearing hadn’t been diminished in his waif-like state, taste, smell, and touch were compromised. Not to mention the 13 years spent as something even less than a ghost.
“My Lord, if I may ask,” Severus began cautiously. “Where is Harry?”
“I have placed him in his bed,” Voldemort lied easily. “He simply needs some time to recover.”
Severus frowned, wanting to check on Harry personally, but knew the Dark Lord was just as adept as healing as he was, so let it pass…reluctantly.
“There are a few matters I need to personally attend to before I call my faithless Death Eaters to me,” Voldemort spat, his displeasure easily felt by the other two. “For now, Severus, you will return to Hogwarts. Keep an eye on the Old Fool and Karkaroff. Additionally, you will begin stocking up on the usual potions.”
“Yes, My Lord. Dumbledore will be asking if I have news of Harry’s kidnapping.”
“Maintain your ignorance,” Voldemort answered. “It will be too suspicious if you attempt to divert them.” Then he turned to Barty. “Barty, you will find a way, I care not how, to spy on Lucius Malfoy.”
Barty’s eyes lit up in unholy glee. “It will be my pleasure.”
“Then you are both dismissed,” he said. Barty apparated away, eager to begin his assignment, but Severus had hesitated. Not that it was much of a surprise. “The boy will return when I say he will, no sooner.”
Severus didn’t look very happy about this, and suspicion flashed in his eyes before he nodded and apparated away.

A/N: I’m sorry if some of you are hating this Voldemort right now. I kind of hate him too, but I can’t see Voldemort accepting two of his horcruxes right away. After all, he cut them out for a reason. He thinks the horcruxes make him emotionally weak, but knows they stabilize him mentally. That’s why agreed with the merging, but at the same time, shielding against all of Marvolo’s memories and emotions.
Finally…I know there will be many opinions on how Voldemort should act, I’d love to hear your thoughts.
Next up: insight on everyone’s thoughts/reactions
- 15
- 16
- 17
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In Servitude of the Dark : My Obiesance