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In Servitude of the Dark: The Hand That Guides Me	By : xXxLuckyxXx Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Voldemort Views: 74965 -:- Recommendations : 4 -:- Currently Reading : 6
Disclaimer: All things Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling and her publishers. I just play in her world.

Chapter List
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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 profit. I am just having fun playing in her magical world. This disclaimer applies to all the following chapters.

::parseltongue::

“spoken words”

Chapter 3 : Marvolo, My Guardian Spirit – May 30, 1993

The first step in Harry’s independence was to see what kind of spells Dumbledore placed on him and this meant a trip to the library. With Marvolo’s help, Harry learned how to perform a standard detection spell for tracking and monitoring charms, which he performed on himself, his clothes, and all of his possessions.

What he found made his blood boil.

There were no spells on Harry, himself. As Marvolo explained, it was harder to place a long term spell on a living magical being who was still growing and still prone to erratic magical bursts. But there was a tracking spell on his glasses, something that he only took off in the shower and before sleeping. Then there were three separate spells on his wand. The first was the standard Ministry Underage Restriction charm. But Dumbledore placed another monitoring charm to keep track of the spells Harry used, a tracking charm, and to Harry’s horror a suppression curse! Any spells that Harry fired would only have 75% of its power.

If it weren’t for Marvolo’s level-headedness, Harry would have ended up snapping his own wand in half.

“If you break it, then the Old Man will suspect you and we lose our advantage,” Marvolo said, his voice soothing and his hand keeping Harry from picking up his wand. It took a moment, but the importance of Marvolo’s words penetrated the haze of anger. Harry took a deep breath to calm himself and nodded in agreement.

At lunch, Harry had to ask three of his dorm-mates for owl-order catalogues before he found the one that included glasses. Harry had fun choosing a design that actually accented his face. They were charmed to be unbreakable, water repelling, and the best part was that the prescription automatically adjusted to Harry’s eyes. Harry would wear this pair of glasses when he was doing something sneaky and his old pair to deflect suspicion.

That used up 29 galleons for all the special features. When Harry wanted to withdraw more money, Marvolo cautioned him that Dumbledore may be tracking his Gringotts account too. To assuage Harry’s anger, Marvolo promised he would help Harry gain control of his vault as well.

Marvolo also urged Harry to use the rest of his galleons for books on home maintenance spells. Marvolo grudgingly admitted that this was one line of magic that he hadn’t bothered studying. If Harry was to return to Privet Drive, at least he wouldn’t be living in the prison cell that he called his bedroom. Hearing this, Harry was all too happy to add those books onto his list of orders.

It took three days for Harry’s specialty glasses and the books to be delivered. In the meantime, the mandrakes were fully matured and were administered to the petrified students. Harry and Ron spent that day filling Hermione in on what had happened since her petrifaction, and the teachers announced that tests were cancelled. This was met with celebrations all around, except Hermione and some Ravenclaws.

The night of the leaving feast, Marvolo deemed the astrological bodies were in the best positions to deal with Harry’s wand problem, and the easiest way was to simply acquire another wand. So with his new glasses and his invisibility cloak on, Harry snuck out into the Forbidden Forest, completely at ease with letting Marvolo take the lead. In fact, Harry was happy to let Marvolo be in charge of planning and handling anything to do with Dumbledore, knowing he was placing himself in good capable hands.

“This will be your first lesson in the Old Magicks,” Marvolo began in a lecturing voice as he gracefully made his way through the dark trees, while Harry struggled not to trip over rocks and roots. Sometimes the apparition walked right through a tree that Harry had to scurry around, but Harry still held onto every word and committed them to memory. Harry was practically starved for information about his heritage as wizard and cherished every little tidbit that Marvolo was in the mood to offer.

“Light wizards would have you believe that the only source of your magic is in your core, but this is not so. Magic is all around us. Even the very elements of nature have magic in it. Those who understand this fundamental fact are naturally more powerful simply because they are not limited to simply wand-magic. That is why those who practice the Old Ways keep the secrets so close to the family.   For our purposes, this also means you need not purchase another wand from Ollivander, even if he would sell you one. We shall make our own and one that is even more powerful, bonded only to you.”

Harry’s eyes widened in amazement. And the thought that this was all largely forbidden knowledge made Harry feel giddy. His eyes were sparkling with excitement. “So then why doesn’t everyone make their own wands?”

“Because if it were legal and widely known than the Ministry would have more trouble controlling the mindless sheep,” Marvolo snarled. “That was one of my goals; to counter the ignorant Light minded ideals of magic. The magic of today is practically widdled down to its barest bones.”

Harry grew silent, thinking about what Marvolo said. If Harry didn’t have someone like Marvolo around, would he have graduated Hogwarts thinking magic was limited to just spells and wands? Most likely, judging by the attitudes of his teachers. The only exception was probably Snape, Harry grudgingly admitted, remembering the Potion’s Master’s introductory speech in first year. He had called wand waving foolish.

“So I’m going to make my own wand?” Harry asked after a while.

Marvolo chuckled. “True wand crafting is a more complicated process than you are capable of at this point,” he answered, making Harry scowl. “No, instead we will make use of a highly magical…ah actually, here we are. You’ll see what I mean.”

The darkness was too thick for Harry to see what Marvolo was pointing at, so Harry nudged a little more magic into his lumos and gasped. “I…I’m not sure this is a good idea,” Harry said, his voice shaky with fear.

Illuminated by the silvery glow of Harry’s lumos was the body of a dead unicorn. Suddenly, Harry flashed back to last year, when he watched Quirrel drinking the animal’s silvery blood. It was definitely the same animal. Harry could still make out the bite marks on the body. Though it was more than a year ago, the body looked as if it only died yesterday. The only sign that it wasn’t was the overgrowth of vines and fallen leaves that partially covered it.

“Dumbledore said drinking unicorn blood will curse you to live a half-life,” Harry murmured.

Marvolo nodded and reverently knelt next to the body of the unicorn. “In this, he is correct,” he answered as he gently brushed away the leaves and dirt and pushed away the vines to clear the body. “But, this time, we will ask for permission. Come and kneel next to me.”

Harry hesitated briefly, but moved to kneel where Marvolo gestured. Without needing to be told, Harry knew this was a solemn moment, and so he instinctively lowered his head.

“I, the Dark Lord Voldemort once named Tom Marvolo Riddle,” Marvolo began, grabbing one of Harry’s hands and laying it on the animal. Just touching it, even in death, made Harry feel dirty and unworthy. “Humbly beg your forgiveness for the wrongs done to you. In my madness, I have taken that which I had no magical right to. In my madness, I have destroyed that which was pure. I am here in deepest sincerity that some good will come out of your sacrifice and not the evil that it was intended for. So mote it be.”

“So mote it be,” Harry repeated when Marvolo signaled to him.

“Now sprinkle the salt over it,” Marvolo instructed. “Salt is a purifier. It will dispel any negative energies left over and allow the unicorn to rest in peace.”

Once Harry was done, the body started glowing softly as if it was made of a lumos charm. Apparently this was a good thing because Harry heard Marvolo sigh in relief.

“She has accepted my apology and our plea,” Marvolo answered the unasked question.

Right before their eyes, the unicorn’s body began fading and fading until it disappeared altogether, only leaving behind a slender 13 inch silver horn and a strand of unicorn hair wrapped around it. Though Harry felt a little sad that the unicorn was gone, he also felt a sense of rightness in helping the unicorn find peace.

Harry reached for the horn and thought it was the most beautiful and elegant object he’d ever seen. It was pearly with a subtle hue of rainbow-ish colors that danced in the glow of the moonlight. In his hands, it felt smooth and cool and heavier than it looked.

“I promise I’ll take good care of it,” Harry whispered into the night, feeling small and humbled. At his declaration, the horn grew warm with acceptance before it cooled again.

Marvolo’s eyes shone with pride, watching Harry cradle the long horn against his body. “Freely given unicorn horn under a full moon is a very powerful magical focus,” Marvolo said approvingly. “And not so many have such a pure heart to even wield it or are they powerful enough.”

Harry frowned. “Pure? So I can’t practice dark magic with it?”

Marvolo shook his head. “No, you misunderstand. Purity does not mean purity of light magic, but purity of heart. As long as you are true in your magic and your intentions, then the horn will work for you.”

“I don’t understand,” Harry complained.

This made Marvolo look at him in fond exasperation. “No, I suppose that was too philosophical for a 12 year old.”

“I’m almost 13!”

Marvolo inclined his head graciously, though a look of amusement shined through, which made Harry scowl. Then Marvolo pick up the single strand of unicorn hair.

“What is that for?” Harry asked curiously.

“It is for when I merge with the original soul piece,” Marvolo answered. “It’s purifying powers will dispel the curse of drinking unicorn blood. Now, the night grows old and there are three other unicorns that must be put to rest.”

Though it was going to be a long night in the Forbidden Forest, Harry did not object to the duty. And because the magic of the forest sensed the rightness and good will of the two, none of the dangerous creatures approached them. Indeed, this was the moment where Magic first smiled down upon the green eyed boy and held him in Her favor.

_oo 0^O 0 o _oo 0^O 0 o _oo 0^O 0 o _oo 0^O 0 o _o

June 06, 1993

For once, Harry was actually looking forward to going back to the Dursleys. Thanks to Marvolo, who Harry was beginning to see as a guardian spirit, he no longer feared going hungry or getting beat up. Speaking of Marvolo, the spirit was resting inside the diary after the long night they had, leaving Harry to his friends. Having stayed up for most of the night, Harry looked as tired as he felt. Claiming nightmares for his tiredness today, Harry was glad they largely left him alone to nap in the train.

With promises to keep in touch, Harry lugged his trunk into the back of Uncle Vernon’s car.

“Get in, boy,” Vernon hissed, shoving Harry into the back seat. “No need to attract anymore strangeness than you already have.”

Harry quietly endure the not-so-quiet mutterings of his uncle, how happy they were that he was gone, how he’d ruined their summer by returning, how they wouldn’t tolerate any freakishness from him…Harry tuned him out ten minutes after getting into the car. He was content to let his uncle snipe and snarl because Harry knew this summer would be different.

Eventually they pulled up to the slightly less than perfect driveway. Glancing around, Harry noted how the weeds were overgrowing the flowerbeds, how the lawn needed mowing, and the fence needed painting. Harry snickered, knowing they were just waiting for him to do it. Not this time, he thought with a smug grin.

Once they were out, Vernon quickly shuffled Harry inside as if he were afraid his neighbors would catch a glimpse of his nephew. “Now put your trunk in the cupboard and give me your wand.” Vernon held out a hand for the wand and smiled nastily. “Petunia has a whole list of chores for you to do.”

“I don’t think so, Uncle,” Harry said, returning the smile with a smirk of his own and pulled out his unicorn wand and pointed it at his uncle.

Vernon scoffed, not yet realizing the danger he was in. “We know you can’t do that outside of your freaky school, boy.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed. “And who told you that?”

“The crazy old man,” Vernon answered, taking a threatening step forward, no doubt to snatch the horn out of Harry’s hand.

“Ah, I see,” Harry said, his voice calm, but inside he was cursing the Headmaster. “Unfortunately for you, I’ve found a way around this little problem. Incarcerous! Silencio! Wingardium Leviosa!” Harry shot out the three spells one after another and stared at his wand in wonder. Wow!

This was the first time he used his unicorn wand. Normally he would’ve felt the draw on his magical core, but even after levitating Vernon---no small feat---onto the couch, there was no noticeable effect on his magical levels at all. Ooh, I’m going to have so much fun with this. He was absolutely giddy with his new found strength.

Hearing the commotion, Petunia ran out of into the living room and immediately spotted her husband bound and glaring murder at her nephew. This was enough to distract Harry from his thoughts and turn back to the task at hand. Before Petunia could even scream, she too was bound, silenced, and floated none too gently onto the couch.

“Now, who am I missing,” Harry said playfully, tapping the tip of the horn onto his chin. “Oh yes! Oh Dudders!” Harry shouted up the stairs. “Family meeting!” After a few minutes, thunderous pounding could be heard when the baby elephant that was his cousin bounded down the stairs.

Upon seeing his parents on the couch, Dudley’s face twisted into an ugly snarl. “What did you do to them, you Freak!”

“Language, Dudders,” Harry said in a sing song voice before treating his cousin to the same three spells as the adults, only this time Harry dropped him on the floor since he didn’t think the couch could stand up to the combined weight.

“Now, that I have you all here, there is someone I’d like to introduce you to. He would be oh so disappointed if I didn’t.” Harry pulled out the small black diary and opened it. From within the pages came Marvolo’s silvery form. Judging by the panicked looks on his relative’s faces, Harry knew the muggles had no trouble seeing the apparition. “May I introduce the Dark Lord Voldemort!”

From the side, he and Marvolo noticed how faint Petunia looked .

“I see you recognize me,” Marvolo said in that silky low voice of his that was filled with power. “Yes, it is only right that you fear the ones who hold the fate of your lives in our hands…Did you know muggles,” Marvolo spat. “I had made it my purpose in life to destroy your kind. In our world, you are the freaks, you are the ones who dirtied our blood, insult our customs, and you should be on bended knee before for the honor to raise one such as Harry Potter…”

As Harry listened, he suspected he was becoming as addicted to that dark voice as he was to the hugs and caresses that passed so naturally between the two. In fact, without even realizing it, Harry had slide-stepped closer, allowing Marvolo to wrap a slender hand around the back of his neck in an obviously possessive gesture.

“…fortunately for you, it is only by Harry’s grace that I stay my hand. Therefore, I highly advise you to treat him like the greater being that he is.”

“Thank you, Lord Voldemort.” Harry took over from there. “I know the headmaster has told you guys I cannot use magic outside of school or else I’ll be expelled,” Harry began, as he paced in front of his relatives, tapping the horn in his other hand. “But with some help from my friend, here, I have found a way around his little problem, which means things are going to change around here. First,” Harry put up a finger. “I am no longer your slave. You will do your own chores, cook your own food, and clean up after yourselves. The less interaction we have the better. In fact if you leave me alone, I will leave you alone. Secondly,” another finger went up. “If any one of you lays a hand on me, you will lose it.”

As a demonstration, Harry cast a small cutting spell, used in preparing potion ingredients, on a nearby house plant, cleaving it cleanly in two. The spell wouldn’t be able to cut through animal flesh, but the Dursleys didn’t need to know that.

All three grew pale and shuddered in fear. This made Harry smile. “You’re fortunate I’m so merciful,” Harry continued, his face darkening in anger. “After all, you never showed me any mercy when I begged for food, or pounded on the cupboard, sick with spider bites.”

A third finger went up. “And lastly, you will speak of this to no one,” Harry ordered. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see his uncle’s mutinous glare. “This you will obey,” Harry growled, pouring magic into his voice. He didn’t know it yet, but he had imposed a mild and wandless compulsion on his relatives. Another wizard would be able to break the compulsion, but to magickless muggles, it may as well be the Imperious curse.

Behind him, Marvolo’s eyes glittered hungrily. The sheer power this small boy commanded impressed even him, and the best part was that the boy was all his. Dumbledore really didn’t know what he had…and lost.

In the end, the Dursleys agreed to the new orders. Harry released the spells and waited for any retaliation. When there were none, he nodded satisfied and headed to the kitchen to grab some food before going up the stairs to his room with Marvolo floating behind him.

Marvolo sneered at the locks on the door but didn’t say anything. He understood the shame that came with such abuse. “We’ll turn this hovel into something worthy of a wizard of your caliber,” was what he said instead, earning a grateful look from Harry.

Between the two, they spent the night talking and making plans for the rest of the summer until it was time to sleep. It was quickly becoming one of Harry’s favorite things to fall asleep in Marvolo’s arms, giving implicit consent for the phantom to feed off his magic.

The next day, it was the sun and not the shrill voice of his aunt that woke him up. Harry stretched lazily in his poor excuse of a bed, luxuriating at the feel of the sun warming his skin. This was a novel feeling as Harry was often up before the sun in the summer to make breakfast before Vernon went to work.

“You look like a hedonistic cat.”

Harry blinked groggily at Marvolo, who was looking down on him with a smirk. A cheeky, “Meow!” was Harry’s response.

“You’ve slept in long enough, little serpent,” Marvolo urged. “Up you get. There is much to do.”

Harry was tempted to burrow back into his thin blankets, but just the thought of fixing his room up drove the sleep away. He jumped out of bed to start his morning routine. In accordance to the new agreement with his relatives, both Dudley and Petunia did their best to pretend he wasn’t there. Vernon had already left for work. Harry was in too good a mood to let it bother him and even chirped a, “good morning!” to them before grabbing something from the fridge and bounding back into his room.

Their first project was making Harry’s bare room into something more livable, especially since he still had to live here. With this in mind, Harry gave his home maintenance books more focus than he ever did in his school work. This made him realize just how much he’d been slacking off. A conversation with Ron came to mind about choosing easy classes, like Divination, just to get an ‘O’ without working. What was I thinking, Harry thought, disgusted with himself. Hanging around Marvolo, Harry now realized that all knowledge was power and shouldn’t be wasted.

Unfortunately, many of the spells were well beyond Harry’s 2^nd year education. “There’s no way I can do that charm,” Harry had complained when he saw the complicated wand movement simply to enlarge an object, in this case, Harry’s bed. He wasn’t even trying to change the nature of the bed, just make it bigger. Feeling a little out of depth, Harry mourned the loss of his dream room.

“All you lack is a basic understanding of the theory,” Marvolo said, encouragingly. “Now what are the two essential elements of magic manipulation?”

Feeling stupid, Harry just blinked blankly, until he remembered how Hermione harped on the –osa in leviosa. “Ummm…pronunciation and wand movement?” Judging by the pained look on Marvolo’s face, Harry figured that was the wrong answer.

“Visualization and will,” Marvolo corrected gently. “As a beginner, your teachers stress the importance of pronunciation and wand movements only because they want you to get use to using magic and your wand. Spells like these,” Marvolo gestured at the book between them, “are limited to the arithmancy---the calculations---that they are derived from. For example, this enlargement charm only works in a room that has four walls, a roof, and a floor. And it will only enlarge the room 2.43 times the original size. So you need a whole new set of calculations if your room has five walls or if you want it bigger. Do you see what I mean?”

Harry nodded slowly. Even though his room did have four walls, he understood what Marvolo meant. “So there’s a spell for every single little thing?” Harry frowned. That seemed very inefficient to him.

Marvolo nodded in agreement. “But we know that magic is more than just wizard made spells and calculations. It is beyond runes, and wands, and tools. The only limit is what you place on it. That is the miracle of magic. So if you can imagine it, if you want it enough, and if you have the power, then anything is possible. From now on, this is how I want you to see magic.”

Harry’s eyes shined at all the possibilities and he nodded enthusiastically.

“Unfortunately, because neither of us are masters of house maintenance spells,” Marvolo continued. “We will be using these spells as a sort of foundation on which we will modify to suit our needs. This is also a good opportunity to teach you how to change the elements of a spell, a very useful skill for wand users. Now, let’s begin…”

The first to go were the bars on the windows and the locks on the doors. Then the entire room was enlarged, and because Harry had the magical power, the room grew large enough to match the square footage of the rest of the house, though nothing looked changed from the outside. Harry’s bed also grew, courtesy of the modified engorgio spell. The ratty sheets and covers were transfigured to thick, soft comforters, and the broken toys that once littered his room were transfigured into large cushioned chairs. Harry liked to read, propped up against Marvolo, so he also created a long loveseat. Unfortunately, fireplaces were beyond Harry and Marvolo’s abilities, but this was made up by the magical window that was illusioned to show a flickering flame whenever Harry wanted.

Looking around at the now furnished room, Harry felt a sense of accomplishment. The center piece of the room was the circular king sized bed, so soft that Harry’s small form was nearly lost in it. Blue and beige, not red and gold, were the colors that Harry and Marvolo could agree on. It decorated the walls, carpet, and heavy curtains. There was a dark stained heavy desk for Harry’s school work in the far corner, and an empty bookcase that covered the entire left wall. If Marvolo had any say, that book case was going to be filled by the end of summer.

Perfectionism wasn’t one of Harry’s virtues, but this was the kind of pride that made him want to spend hours on end to get a particular transfiguration just right. Even Hedwig’s cage was transfigured into something more fitting of such a smart and loyal owl. Even better was the mixed look of envy and fear on Dudley’s face when he got an eyeful of the richly elegant room.

“The best revenge is living well,” Marvolo had said, and Harry agreed.

“So now what?” Harry asked nearly two weeks later. It had taken a long time to transfigure his room because Marvolo treated each new spell as a lesson to impart some kind magical theory. Harry didn’t mind. In fact, he started keeping a journal of all the things Marvolo said.

“Normally,” Marvolo said. “We would make these transfigurations permanent, but we can’t for two reasons. The first is that we don’t know if the Old Man will come or send someone to check on you. If that happens, we cannot allow them to glimpse all this.”

Harry nodded in agreement. “And the second?”

“One of the first laws of transfiguration is that it is temporary, only depending on the strength of the caster,” Marvolo answered. “Even if you were Merlin himself, over time all these changes will revert back their original forms. Thus in order to make something permanent you have to lock the spell onto yourself and the most powerful element is blood. That is one advantage of blood magic, but you are not yet ready to delve into that yet, not even in theory.”

Harry crossed his arms, dissatisfied. He really wanted to keep his room the way it was without having to recast all those spells. “So we have to do this every summer or whenever the Headmaster sends someone over?”

“Of course not,” Marvolo snorted. “Light wizards would get nothing done in the magical world if they had to recast every spell. No, we will cast a modified memory charm, one that is specifically designed for inanimate objects.”

“But inanimate objects can’t remember things,” Harry said dubiously.

“We will have to increase your sensitivity, but have you ever walked into a place and just felt like something was wrong?” Marvolo returned. “Sensitive wizards and sometimes even muggles can touch a wall and sense if someone had suffered within those walls. Your cupboard is one such place. The very walls are stained by every single tear, every drop of blood, and every unanswered wish. Nothing but a purifying ritual can rid it of the taint of your pain.”

Harry shivered, remembering all those nights alone, locked in that dark cramped space.

Marvolo allowed Harry to ponder on that for a moment before continuing. “For our purposes, we will force this room to remember the magical changes and link it all together with two trigger words. One to instantly dismantle the transfigurations and another to instantly re-apply it.”

Linking multiple transfiguration spells together was hard and delicate work. They had to do it in some order that would not counteract the magic that was already part of the network. If Harry could see magic, he’d see a web-like mesh infused into his room only dimming slightly when the spells were inactivated and glittered brightly when the spells were activated.

::The hole,:: Harry hissed in parseltongue, and instantly the richly furnished room turned into its original drab condition.   ::My room.:: Harry sighed in relief when the parsel password successfully activated the interwoven web of magics.

As a final touch, and with Marvolo’s instructions, Harry went around his room and added 6^th year level protection charms, privacy charms, and painful booby traps if his greedy relatives decided to loot or trash the place. These too, he carefully weaved into the magical net and only another parselmouth could deactivate them.

“I am inordinately impressed, my Little Serpent,” Marvolo said, cradling Harry’s tired body against himself. Harry may have had a magical boost in his core and an unhampered wand, but his 12 year old body was still getting accustomed to directing so much magic. “You appear to be a natural. Weaving spells and magical energies is something that isn’t even taught in Hogwarts. You’ve picked up the concepts exceptionally quickly and with minimal directions.”

Harry basked in the foreign pleasure of hearing the real pride in Marvolo’s voice. Sincere compliments such as this were far and few between in Harry’s life. “I couldn’t do any of this if I didn’t have such a good teacher,” Harry returned.

“Teacher or no,” Marvolo said. “There is a component of magic that is purely instinctive and that is something no one can teach.”

A/N: Sorry if this seems like just a filler, but it had to be done to move the story along. I hope I didn’t lose any of you to all the technical magical theory stuff. It isn’t a concept foreign to HP fandom, so most of you die hard fans would have found it boring. So just bare with me to trudge through this part, I promise it will be worth it!

As always, please tell me what you think.
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In Servitude of the Dark: The Hand That Guides Me