Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Bring Me to Life	By : Sealpotter Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male Views: 4488 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters associated with the books/movies and I never have and never will make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Prologue
- 2-Part 1
- 1
- 2
It’s been two years since the Wizarding world lost its savior. Only a small pool of Harry’s blood was found in the center of the maze when the teachers found the cup missing. No one had any clue as to what happened to the boy that night. Albus Dumbledore had been furious when his Order members could not locate the boy. There had been no word on the darker forces in two years either, all was at peace as the world continued on without its savior.

In a large manor in the depths of Ireland, a boy lay on a bed in a coma. His black hair and famous scar marked him as Harry Potter. He was attended every day by a man who watched him with a vigilance bordering on obsession. Healers had attended the boy once a month to monitor the vitals, but no change had occurred since the boy had been fully healed two years ago. The man had sifted through every memory in the boy’s mind trying to find something to make the boy want to wake. He had found not one good memory, nothing he could use to entice the consciousness of the boy who lived back to the living. In the end, Harry’s belief that he was the cause of suffering broke the unbreakable Dark Lord. A side effect of the Dark Lord sifting through memories was the affection that had latched on the ice cold heart of the most evil man alive. He wanted Harry to live, to wake and see that there was something to live for. In a strange turn of events, the need to see Harry die turned into the need to see him live.

A house elf popped into the room. Voldemort turned and sighed.

“A cup of tea and a few biscuits.” Voldemort requested before the elf popped back out.

Voldemort reached over and brushed a hand through the black hair. Harry stirred his head following the brief touch. Voldemort jerked his hand away and the blank expression returned to Harry’s face. He had never seen Harry move in the two years that they had been there. He reached back and cupped Harry’s warm cheek. Harry sighed and cuddled closer to the hand on his face.

“Serena!” Voldemort called out without taking his hand away.

The healer that was resting before her return, scrambled from the couch in the room next door and made her way quickly towards the bed.

“Sir?” She questioned as she cast all her diagnostic spells.

“He moved, watch,” Voldemort said as he removed his hand.

They both watched as the blank coma expression returned to Harry. Voldemort then put his hand back on Harry’s cheek. They watched as a more serene expression passed over Harry, a soft sigh was expelled from his mouth and he actually moved if Voldemort moved his hand just a bit.

“You might try an enervate, he may respond to you.” Serena said amazed at even the smallest of shudders in her patient, “Then try talking to him, but whatever you do, don’t stop touching him.”

Voldemort nodded and let his hand continue resting on Harry’s face as he drew his wand and whispered the envenerate spell.
Harry felt warmth after an eternity of darkness. There was no light, just warmth. He re-lived all his nightmares over and over, it was as if he was trapped inside his life on repeat. He wanted to not feel, to forget, or better yet to find an end. He felt pulled, hard towards something. His eyes opened for the first time in forever, they felt scratchy and blurry. He could not see who was with him but saw two figures next to him. The warmth he finally recognized, was someone’s hand. It felt good, like a drink of water in the middle of the desert. He tried to talk, but barely a croak slipped out.

“Shhhh… Harry… Relax, let us take care of you.” A warm and strong voice penetrated Harry’s ears. The hand stayed and Harry felt he would fall once again into the blackness without it. His eyes filled with panic as it started to move away from him. His mind screamed in fear.

Voldemort felt the intense panic in Harry, it flooded his mind and his body, he was not sure what was causing the panic, until he realized the further his hand was from Harry the more panic Harry felt. He moved closer and let his hand trail down Harry’s face, not stopping until he laced his fingers into the green-eyed man’s hand. The panic subsided and the air in the room cleared slightly.

“I’m not going anywhere, Harry,” Voldemort whispered.

Serena just worked despite the tension in the room. Her patient was healthy in body and that is all she could do. She stepped away and turned to the Dark Lord.

“I’ll be back tomorrow. Get him to eat and at least sit up. Don’t worry if he only eats a little, the nutrient potions are where they always are, as well as the muscle potions.” She stated before turning around and leaving.

Voldemort looked down at Harry who was now awake and looked around as if not seeing anything. He had almost forgotten the glasses the boy used to wear. He would let Harry have his glasses after they had a talk and ate something. He moved to help Harry sit up against the headboard all without letting go of Harry’s hand.

Harry for the most part just allowed the manhandling. He continued to grip onto the hand in his like the lifeline it was. He was afraid to let go and his body did not feel strong enough to finish what he started. He wondered where he went wrong, who had fixed him. He remembered nothing after he passed out over the cup. He still wanted his release, even now he was a burden to those around him, caring for him and not living their lives.

Voldemort watched the emotions run across Harry’s face. Of all the people he knew, Harry was the only one who ever openly showed feelings and emotions. How could Harry still be so open even now after everything? Voldemort still seethed inside. He had commanded hundreds in an effort to rip the power away from those that had made him who he was. He had a driving need to be in control after a life of no control. He was adamant to change things so they could never happen again, so witches and wizards did not ever have to experience the suffering he knew muggles were capable of delivering. In the end, he came face to face with someone who had suffered more than him. Harry’s pain was a far greater burden.

In the last two years, Voldemort had stayed quiet, better to let his enemies think things were still and peaceful rather than keep them on their guard. He had minimized his movements and consolidated his inner circle to only those he could trust implicitly. The Malfoy’s held a tenuous position, teetering between inner circle and necessary pawn. Severus Snape was another matter altogether. The man had earned his ire merely with the total contempt of Harry the man displayed in Harry’s memories. Barty Crouch Jr. and the Carrows were the only members who knew where Harry Potter was. Everyone else was kept in the dark. There was one person not on his side that was aware, but since no news had leaked, he was sure the man was at least on Harry’s side and that was what mattered. He had also spent the last two years planning and plotting the downfall of those who had once preyed upon Harry… If Harry would not seek revenge, Voldemort would do it for him.

“Harry, would you like some hot tea?” Voldemort asked and watched Harry nod.

Voldemort snapped his fingers and an elf appeared.

“Bring me two cups of hot tea instead of just the one I asked for,” Voldemort stated before turning back to Harry. He kept his hand twined with the other man’s.

“The tea shall soothe your throat so you can talk. If you like I could cast a telepathic link so we could converse mind to mind. I think that would be easier.” Voldemort offered. Though he had gone through every memory of Harry’s, he would not impose while Harry was awake.

The barest of nods was all he needed before Harry’s voice filled his mind. The sound was the sweetest thing Voldemort had ever heard and it washed over him like warm honey.

“Where am I? And what happened?”

“You are in my home. I am not sure you are ready to hear all of what happened yet, Harry. Why don’t you tell me the last thing you remember and we can go from there.” Voldemort spoke softly into Harry’s mind.

Before Harry could answer the elf popped in with two steaming cups of tea and a few biscuits. Voldemort tested one cup before holding it to Harry’s lips and watched the young man drink a little at a time. He never let his hand stop gripping Harry’s and managed to do everything with just one hand. The feel of Harry’s hand in his was something new, touch was not something he was used to and his heart melted just a little more for Harry, yet hardened a bit more for those that had done this to the young man before him.

~TBC Please review.
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Bring Me to Life