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
- 1
- 2
- 3
~This is Parseltongue~

"This is normal speech"

Chapter 1

Elemental Mage

Harry glanced back at number 4. Privet Drive one last time. He had waited for Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia and their disgusting swine of a son, Dudley, to go to bed, patiently pretending sleep until the house had gone quiet. He then quickly gathered his belongings, part of which had been locked away by Vernon for the summer. He rechecked if he left out anything important once more, finally deciding to leave his cousin's overly large castoff clothes behind. His first trip would take him to Gringotts anyway, and he could afford to buy himself a few new shirts and jeans.

Satisfied, he shrunk his trunk with a flick of his wand, not concerning himself with the Ministry's laws forbidding usage of his magic at all. He had much bigger problems to worry about than the incompetent horde working in the Ministry, making foolish attempts to restrict his actions.

They had called him a liar, had flooded the wizard world with copies of the Daily Prophet slandering his name and questioning his credibility for months. His life had been a living hell since the Triwizard Tournament, made twice as bad because of Dumbledore. Sure, the old headmaster had believed him when he had told him Voldemort was back, but that could not compensate for the deception Harry had discovered in the graveyard that night, or the fact that the old man had resolutely ignored him all year, as if he felt Harry's change of heart. He shuddered with the memory; he was still able to recall everything vividly about Voldemort's rebirth.

Harry called for the Knight Bus with a wave of his hand and requested transportation to the Leaky Cauldron as soon as possible. He could never get used to the damn thing; every time he tried to relax in his seat, he was promptly thrown one way or another. He got off rubbing his arse reproachfully, glowering at thin air where the bus had still stood a moment ago. This was so not his day.

Before entering the building, he remembered he had to disguise himself. It would not do for Dumbledore or Voldemort finding out he left the only place besides Hogwarts that could be called safe. Grimmauld Place was out of the question – too many people from the Order knew the location. He would be discovered immediately and Harry would not put it below Dumbledore to send him back to the godforsaken hellhole of a home without a second thought. He cursed the old man mentally, but he knew there was not much he could do; the past could not be changed, hasty and unfair decisions would not disappear simply because Harry wished them to.

He pulled out his wand from his pocket, an idea already forming in his mind. Hermione had quite a collection of useful charms, and Harry had memorized some of the ones that he deemed particularly helpful.

First, he straightened his hair that has grown to brush his shoulders due to neglect. Hermione had used the method for the Ball during their fourth year, effectively taming the wild bush on top of her head (although she needed other charms and potions as well). With that done, Harry took off his glasses and pointed his wand at his eyes, improving his sight in less than a heartbeat. The spell did not repair them per se, it only coated his irises with a substance that reminded Harry of contact lenses when he had first performed the charm.

Lastly, he concealed the evident scar on his forehead with a small illusion. Any wizard with a modicum of powers would probably be able to see through it if they tried, but why would they? It was not as if anyone expected Harry Potter to saunter into the open in the midst of the brewing war. Nodding to himself, he disappeared through the door invisible to muggles, not noticing the yellow pair of eyes in the darkness blinking at him with surprise.

The next few days went by in a rush. Harry bought everything he needed after taking some money from his parent's vault, including new clothes, cloaks, books that appeared to have useful knowledge in them (some of them originating from Knockturn Ally even) and a few other items Harry came across during his strolls in area.

Harry stood beside his bed in the dingy room of the pub, admiring his purchases. Who would have thought all this could be found in plain sight? Some of the stuff was barely even legal, like the Hand of Merlin, an artifact that allowed wizards powerful enough to use magic without their wands. Harry was doubtful when he first tried the ornate bracelet on, but had been immediately awed by the ease with which he could use it and the opportunities it represented. After all, even if they took his wand, or broke it in the future, he would still be able to perform curses and defend himself. More than that, doing magic without a wand seemed to amplify his power and was a lot more comfortable than channeling it through a piece of wood.

The shopkeeper he bought it from could hardly believe a mere boy would be able to use such an item, and had watched Harry suspiciously as he cast some practice spells with ease. He then reluctantly told Harry how rare the artifact was; in fact, he only knew about one more of them in existence, but it had disappeared through the decades, never to be found. Harry was pleased with that; it meant no one would expect him to fight after his wand was taken from him. It gave him an advantage over any enemy he might encounter.

Harry recalled Ollivander telling him his wand was the twin of Voldemort's and grinned with the satisfaction of knowing he no longer needed to worry about that. He read a book on the subject in the Restricted Section of Hogwarts Library; the wands, if turned against each other, would be unable to function properly, making them useless in a fight. It chilled him to think about what would have happened if he had been really forced to duel the Dark Lord that night.

Now, he would have a chance to battle Voldemort without the fear of something unexpected occurring. His only complaint was about how girly the thing looked. Chains extended from the delicate silver bracelet, ending in slender rings that had to be put on all five fingers. It was decorated with small emeralds nearly the color of his eyes and other gems he could not put names to. The effect was positively gothic. Harry shrugged; nothing could be perfect. Besides, the price was surprisingly low, considering what one could do with it.

He fastened it on his hand and threw himself into the ragged couch beside the bed, opening a copy of Deemed Dark – The nature of true magic. He was determined to learn all there was to know about the Dark side and even considered using some of the curses he found. It appeared most of them were only labeled Dark because of the blood they required to be effective and were otherwise nondescript offensive magic; similar to what the Ministry trained their Aurors in. Powerful for sure, but not evil. The more he read, the more evident it became how superstitious and foolish Dumbledore was in his crusade against everything not Light. The old man was unable to differentiate between the shades of gray and resolutely thought about the world in black and white with nothing in-between. Harry was appalled by how ignorant the leader of Light really was, despite the enormous knowledge he held.

~Harrrrry Potter, what on eartttth are you doing heeeere?~

Harry whipped around at the unexpected interruption. He narrowed his gaze at the small white snake he found perching on the windowsill.

~How do you know me? Did Voldemort send you?~ he asked in Parseltongue, panic making his heart beat with double its original pace. If he was found now, all his plans could be flushed down the drain. Not to mention he would probably be dead before the next day rose. The snake laughed.

~Do you ttthink all of ussss ssserve him? You shhhhould know better tttthan to tttthink ussss all on hissss sssside.~

~So why are you here? How did you know who I was?~

~I ssssaw you arrive. Why have you left your housssse?~ Harry blinked. He could not trust the snake. Even if it claimed it meant no harm, it was too dangerous to let anyone go who knew his identity and whereabouts. And serpents were just a tad bit too closely associated with Voldemort for comfort. Harry raised his hand to perform the charm that would wipe the animal's memories of him, but the snake hissed.

~Foolishhhh boy!~ and it transformed with a burst of energy. Harry wiped his eyes to clear the dust from them, and when he opened them, he was staring at a wide chest clad in a black cloak right before his nose. He gulped, a little dumbstruck.

"Animagus?" Harry asked tentatively. The man chuckled and Harry's gaze traveled upwards to meet the two most incredibly beautiful eyes he has ever seen. An odd thought, considering the figure in his room was neither a female nor the slightest bit womanly. But his eyes were mesmerizing without a doubt. The irises were pure shining golden brown with tiny flecks of red. The pupil was slit like a cat's and was a shade of bluish black. Those were not something any human had a right to claim. His dark hair hung over one shoulder in a loose braid, softening the sharp features of his handsome face. If all this was not intimidating enough, he towered over Harry with a complexion of a fighter - all sleek muscles and flat plains.

"What… What are you?" Harry finally managed to force out. The man grinned.

"Gigory Rubens, at your service. I am a wizard too, although quite different from the ones you had a chance to meet so far, save two, I would think."

"Different? How so, exactly? You seem…" Harry searched for the right word "…old, perhaps?" Yep, that was it. The man before him had the gaze of something ancient and timeless.

"Very good, Harry Potter. I am old indeed. The wizards today would call me an Elemental Mage, supposing they were educated enough to recognize what that means and entails."

"Elemental Mage? What is that? And who have I met?" Harry never heard of such a thing and Hermione had never mentioned anything about it during their studies of magical races either.

"Dumbledore, for one. And of course the Dark Lord. An Elemental Mage gains the infinite power of one of the four elements of nature, power so vast, you could hardly imagine. They also receive a life span similar to that of an element; in other words, they are immortal." Harry frowned.

"Dumbledore isn't immortal. He ages like everyone. Fine, maybe a little slower, but he still ages."

"Boy, have you not learnt anything? You see what he wants you to see. His true appearance is probably quite similar to mine. If nothing else, the eyes would give him away. Slit eyes the color of one's element is the same for every such Mage."

"What is your element then? And Dumbledore's and Voldermort's?" Grigory looked at Harry incredulously.

"Have you not witnessed their duel? Voldemort possesses fire, thus the red in his irises. Dumbledore uses water. Although he hides his pupils, the color is original; blue. I am an Earth Mage." Harry sat back down. If the wizard wanted him dead, he would have had plenty of opportunities to attack already. Especially if he had been watching Harry ever since his arrival. He shuddered and suppressed a groan. How come he had not noticed? If it had been anyone else, he would already be dead, or worse, would be sitting back at the Dursleys playing the role of an obedient little house elf.

"So what do you want? If you don't work for the Order or Voldemort what business do you have with me?" Grigory wore a thoughtful expression. After a few seconds his features smoothed out and he nodded to himself.

"Harry Potter, I will train you. You have the potential to become truly powerful, presuming you have the willpower necessary to get there. I will help you fulfill your birthright, if you wish." Harry gaped at him. Was he serious? He nodded numbly, hardly daring to believe it. Grigory winked at him.

"We start tomorrow. Pack everything you need by noon and I will come for you."

"Yeah. All right." Harry nodded again, a smile slowly tugging at his lips. This was good, very good.

Grigory watched the boy fondly. Harry was the first pupil he had ever taken thus far, despite the long years he had lived through. True, he did it as a favor, not of his own volition, but he still felt pride in his young protégé. He had talent, he had the will and possessed the grace of a cat after he had transgressed from the awkward pubescent period of his life.

It has only been four short years since they first met, but Grigory grew attached to the boy; enough so that he no longer wished to give him up, which was bad. Very bad. He owed a debt to Tom, and could not deny him his request, although his purpose in aiding his mortal enemy in becoming stronger eluded Grigory completely.

Harry could now stand up against the Dark Lord with ease; he may have even surpassed him in some areas. He smiled as he watched Harry gently lifting off the ground. He was now able to command the wind with much better precision and was not shot out toward the sky like a rocket. His first try at the exercise had been definitely the funniest thing he saw in decades. And the boy's expression… Hilarious! Grigory snickered at the memory, but turned grim quickly. He had no choice; Harry had to go.

"Why? My training is not even finished yet!" Grigory wore a longsuffering expression as Harry whined.

"Harry, if you wait any longer, you won't have the chance to choose your own side in the war. It will be over one way or another."

"But…" Yeash, even Harry thought he sounded like petulant child.

"No buts" Grigory told him with a stern expression. "You must go back to Britain. You know that. And it's not as if we will never see each other again." He added, softening his tone.

"I know, Grigory. It's just… I still have so much to learn! I will be forever grateful for your guidance, but it is not yet enough! I feel I could do much more than this. I feel so much power in me, it just has not yet surfaced!" The older man smiled at that.

"That is true. But Harry, you have eternity to learn, you don't have to rush."

"Provided I don't get killed by Voldemort or Dumbledore first. It's not like I am completely immortal." Harry retorted with a grimace.

"The same goes for every Elemental Mage. You can harm them as well, you know."

"Grigory-"

"And your friends? You think I haven't noticed how much you've missed them? You must go back, boy." Grigory stepped closer and skimmed his finger along Harry's jaw. Harry shivered. He had the sudden urge to hug his mentor, but controlled himself with some difficulty. They never allowed themselves much physical contact. It was like an unspoken agreement not to intrude into the others private life. Harry knew Grigory was lonely and so was he, but they never overstepped the invisible boundaries.

The man's hand still resting on his cheek was something of a shock. Harry decided it must have been due to their oncoming parting. When Grigory leaned closer, Harry's heart almost stopped. His face was not even an inch away from his own, and he could feel his mentor's warm breath tickling his nose.

"Take care, kiddo." Soft lips brushed Harry's mouth, which was hanging slightly agape. He blushed furiously, turning his head away. He did not notice the longing those golden eyes held and by the time he turned back the unusual emotion was concealed behind a calm exterior.

"Er… I guess I really do have to leave then." Grigory nodded. "My stuff?"

"I have sent everything ahead to the Leaky Cauldron. Hedvig too."

"Okay then, I guess." Harry turned slightly, but before he could think better of it, he swiveled back around and threw his arms around Grigory. The man appeared quite stricken, as he stood frozen in place, and Harry quickly let go and apparated with a loud crack.

Grigory smiled. "Thank you, Cher."
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