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The Forever Game	By : uqui Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Voldemort Views: 109808 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 12
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
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14/10/2012

Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed and rated. Review responses are found: http://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/index.php/topic/37335-review-replies-and-discussion-for-the-forever-game/

Thank you to everyone who read, reviewed and rated.

The Forever Game

Consolidation and Companion

       That had been a good evening but for now he had Death Eater’s to deal with. Duty was painful at times, but there were occasionally some nice fringe benefits and watching Harry kill Dumbledore was one of them. Then after he dismissed the Death Eater’s Voldemort intended to snuggle close to his beloved and rest. Today was had been long and tomorrow would be soon enough for a proper celebration of Dumbledore’s death and Harry’s immortality. For now Dumbledore’s death would be enough entertainment.

       There was silence in the throne room and Voldemort suppressed his smile as his Death Eater’s attention turned towards Harry who had apparated to stand at his right hand, his hood concealing his features. Dumbledore’s breathing was harsh in the silence. He was chained to the floor and most of the Death Eaters were anticipating the kill.

       Predictably, it was Lucius Malfoy who broke the silence. The blond wizard was probably desperate to attempt to regain credence after his earlier performance in the Wizengamot. Lucius was highly intelligent, quick and an absolute political animal but sometimes he failed to read the situation so completely that it was almost comical. Most of his Death Eater’s had reasoned out by now that there was some sort of reason for James Potter’s continued existence and while they did not know what it was, they obeyed. Some few had even worked out that James kept the dissents under control, focusing their aggression along paths the Dark Lord had already won. It didn’t matter. Most knew better than to use force on a man their Lord seemed to need, Lucius did not. If he had of kept his machinations to politics, Voldemort wouldn’t have cared but Lucius was attempting to fight, and being beaten, on every level. Even his son had betrayed him, secretly dating Marigold Potter. The Dark Lord was anticipating watching Lucius’ despair, almost as much as his own elation when he announced Harry as the second rightful Lord.

       But that was for the future, for now, Dumbledore had to die.

       “My Lord, who is this?” The blond wizard gestured towards Harry.

       “This is the man who will kill Dumbledore.”

       There was a bit of a stir at that. Most expected that he would wield the knife or wand. “That is your right, My Lord!”

       “Funnily enough, he said the same thing but the right is his. For years he has stood by my side, unseen, unknown, guiding me towards victory and so the old wizard’s life is his. To take, to torture, to spare, I do not care. The old fool has lived to see my absolute victory, that is enough.”

       -I’ll kill him,- Harry hissed in parselmouth and Voldemort almost laughed at the instant silence the words brought. Every single Death Eater and Dumbledore were staring with absolute shock at the young wizard’s hooded figure.

       Dumbledore was the first to break the silence, almost collapsing into himself with a moan of pain and Voldemort smiled towards his chained captive. It appeared Harry’s little revelation had finally broken the old man’s spirit and the Dark Lord felt his cock stir, physical evidence of his enjoyment and desire to thank his beloved properly. -I think he finally understands,- Harry summarised before stepping down from the dais. In the relative silence of the room, the noise of his footfalls was loud and the Death Eater’s drew back to let him through. It had long been accepted that any parselmouth was automatically of high rank within the Death Eaters. It was a stupid idea but one Voldemort would use if it made introducing his beloved smoother.

       Harry turned to face him. -Do I need to kill him in a specified way?-

       -No, but why don’t you show off some of our enhancements?- Voldemort suggested with a sly smile. The Death Eaters who saw the smile shuddered and looked back to the unknown wizard. They couldn’t see anything special about him. He was of average height with a medium build, obviously a parselmouth and probably male, if the voice’s tone could be trusted. Yet those who were sensitive could feel that the figure was very important.

       Harry nodded and let his aura flare. The wash of magic made the watching Death Eaters step back and he was amused at the way they cleared a path for him. The Dark Lord flared his own power in reply and the green eyed wizard almost laughed turning for a moment with an unseen wry smile on his lips, no challenge ever went unmet, before he focused fully on Dumbledore.

       The old wizard was chained, kneeling on the stone floor. There was a chain on each wrist and two attached to the heavy collar. Just the weight of the dragon forged steel was holding the old man down and the restraints were probably not necessary, not with his magic being blocked and his immortality gone but both Harry and Voldemort had learned over the years that arrogance lead to downfall and they did their gloating after the fact, taking pleasure in the other.

       The man’s skin was thin, almost translucent and blue spidery veins traced their way over his arms and legs, thickening into raised conduits as they traced over his torso before disappearing into his chest. Dumbledore’s hair and beard were frosted white though still thick. Blue eyes were watching him avidly and Harry could see in them the echo of intelligence and cunning but he could also see how heavily defeat was weighing at the old wizard. He knew he had lost, but he might yet try something and Harry drew his wand, ignoring the gasps as several Death Eater’s recognised the richly polished grain of Neville Longbottom’s former wand. The charm hit Dumbledore’s throat and the old man made move to tear at his neck but the chains were too short and his emaciated hands stopped inches away, curled into claws.

       “No Albus,” Harry said, deliberately hissing, “I don’t want you spoiling the surprise.” He resheathed his wand and stood directly in front of the old wizard looking down. Dumbledore looked up at him, his eyes didn't beg but his denial was obvious and Harry was forced to wonder, not for the first time, how the old man had so blatantly twisted the prophecy? And why did he so blindly follow the fake one? The answer would be somewhere in Dumbledore's head but Harry wasn't fool enough to attempt legilimency on the old wizard. He'd been in his beloved's mind earlier and he'd been let in but he hadn't been blind to the myriad of defences that were in Voldemort's mind, defences that were most likely on Dumbledore's and were on his own mind. He was curious, but the answer was not worth the price.

       There was no need to rush Dumbledore’s death, but at the same time Harry was not a fan of torture on a wizard who had realised he was defeated and who would be dangerous if given even the remotest chance to escape. As a result, Dumbledore’s death would probably be too fast for most of the watching Death Eaters. Neither Harry nor his beloved would care. Their enjoyment came from the act of defeat, not the death and so the green eyed wizard reached out. He paused, both hands extended, covering but not touching Dumbledore’s face.

       Harry had fully intended on laying his hands on the old wizard, running them down his face, over his neck and chest to just under his ribs before digging in to grasp the bones to pull them apart but as he neared the point of contact he remembered. He remembered the rubbery feel of Dumbledore’s phallus under his hands, the way the wizard tasted in his mouth and felt in his body and it was all he could do not to cringe away. Dumbledore’s death sealed the ritual but suddenly he didn’t want to touch the man at all. Why had his Dark Lord asked him to do this in public?

       Was this a test? Had he known? Harry forced his breathing, which had become shallow to deepen. He ignored the little stirrings of the Death Eaters who were watching. They were probably wondering if he had lost his nerve and was somehow afraid of killing the man acknowledged as the supposedly greatest wizard of their time. They would never know that his fears were somewhat more exotic. Harry took a particularly large breath, giving himself a mental shake. He would not let his revulsion ruin everything. He had touched Dumbledore intimately, because that is what was required. This last touch was also required and Harry forced himself to be calm before laying his hands on Dumbledore’s face, his fingertips on the old man’s forehead and the heels of his hands resting on the old wizard’s jaw bone. Albus’ breath was warm on his palms. -You still owe me,- he hissed the words over his shoulder

       Harry wasn’t the only one surprised when Voldemort laughed, the sound rich and echoing in the watching silence of the throne room. “More than you will ever know,” he said the words plainly so that all could hear.

       Inwardly Harry shook his head. The Death Eaters would be more confused than ever. The expression of mirth had relaxed him and he turned his attention back to Dumbledore with renewed focus, though in the back of his mind his resolve firmed. Voldemort was going down for this and it would be in the one way the Dark Lord did not see coming. The green eyed wizard grinned at the thought, moving his hands down in a caress that stroked Dumbledore’s face and ended with his fingertips tracing the lines of his jawbone, meeting under his chin.

       On his throne Voldemort read all the reactions of his beloved and he was proud. It appeared that some of James Potter’s penchant for theatrics had bred true and Harry was putting on a good show for the gathered Death Eaters. It would be a short show, the dark wizard knew that his beloved would not torture the old man but it would be one the watchers remembered. Harry’s last reaction though and the surety of his movements after it filled him with anticipation. He could tell, just from watching that Harry was planning something, and whatever it was…. Voldemort resisted the urge to laugh again. His Little One took such good care of him.

       Harry let his forefingers rest under Dumbledore’s chin for a few moments before he moved them down, digging his nails in slightly but not breaking skin. He traced his way over the old wizard’s arteries, feeling the ridges of his trachea before he rested his fingers on the collarbone, his fore and middle fingers digging in slightly while his ring and little finger found the breast bone.

       Dumbledore’s breathing was even though he had to know what was to come and Harry leaned over. “Don’t worry, it will be quick,” he whispered. “I don’t guarantee the same for Neville.”

       That got a reaction. Who knew, the old man may actually care about the other boy though Harry honestly didn’t know if Neville was still alive. The Death Eater’s picked up on the reaction and laughed. Harry ignored them and continued lowering his hands, pressing his fingers in slightly to trace the bottom of Dumbledore’s ribs. “Any last request?” He asked.

       As expected the old man said nothing and Harry focused his will before he drove his fingers inwards. Dumbledore gave a strangled cry and Harry curled his hands, digging deeper as he tried to get a grip on the slippery ribs. There was not much blood but there would be. The Death Eaters cheered and crowded close. Harry flexed his arms, pulling outwards. There was a sick wet crunch and several snaps, a groan of agony and the scent of blood spread thick in the air. Harry wrenched the old wizards ribs open, tearing through skin and muscle, exposing the old heart. He reached his right hand forward, grasping the frantically pulsing muscle and jerking it free. There was a spray of blood, it splattered most of the close Death Eaters and stained Harry’s hands red but his shield blocked most of the blood.

       Most of the Death Eaters recognised his strength as far beyond normal, which was just what Voldemort had wanted when he said to show off. Harry recognised his strength as being born from several rituals his beloved had put him through over the years. The Dark Lord would not allow him to perform some but those that strengthened and did not taint, he had encouraged Harry and helped him perform them, all for the day that was coming when he was announced as the equal partner of the ruler of the Isles.

       Harry let Dumbledore’s body drop to the floor as he lifted the organ high, conjuring a glass and squeezing the last blood into it, before he let the heart fall with a solid splat. Harry turned, and carefully stepped over the blood that had dripped off his shield. He bowed towards the Dark Lord, offering him the glass.

       “I forgot how fastidious you can be,” Voldemort mused, gesturing towards the little shield Harry had erected. His hands and arms were thickly splattered with blood but his shadowed face and body were unsoiled. The closest Death Eaters were wiping their faces clean, some were happy and some seemed distressed. And from the corner of his eye Harry could see the look of distain Lucius Malfoy directed towards him. “You take it,” the Dark Lord said with a casual flip of his hand.

       Harry nodded and downed the rapidly cooling stuff, gagging slightly at how thick it already was as it congealed. Blood was the beginning and the end of the ritual and as it settled in his stomach Harry could feel the wave of magic pass through him. Now he had the potential for immortality, the same potential all cambions were born with. All that remained was activation but that was another day’s work and Harry sleepily blinked green eyes, looking up slightly to his beloved.

       Voldemort was looking down at him with a fond gaze and even before the question was asked he nodded. “Go and rest, it has been a very long day,” the order was soft.

       The green eyed wizard nodded again and apparated, but it was not to the home he now shared with the Dark Lord, it was to his childhood home. The Potter Manner, with its sweeping wings and long corridors and complete and utter lack of silence with all twelve of his siblings home. It was late so only Jasmine was still awake, talking quietly with their parents, Lily showing that there would be another little brother or sister soon.

       And so it was, arms still sticky with Dumbledore’s blood, the taste of his blood in the back of his throat, Harry appeared and fell, crying uncontrollably into his mother’s arms. As her warmth and the smell that nothing could ever duplicate, the smell that was home and comfort and protection and love and all things good, penetrated his senses Harry feel asleep, the stresses finally overwhelming him.

~x~x~x~

And what happens next time? Given that Harry is rather distressed! How will he be comforted!

I encourage everyone to read and review and rate. There’s no shame in doing all three and even if it’s something you don’t like about the fic, don’t be shy – how else am I going to improve unless you tell me? I like praise but I’m not above accepting criticism.

Also, people are more than welcome to post in the review reply thread! Sometimes it gets a bit lonely talking to myself, so feel free to drop over and gossip~

Until next time… wavies!
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The Forever Game