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Possession	By : uqui Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Voldemort Views: 85531 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- 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.

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Possession

Chapter XXXVI - Apprehension

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Harry jumped as another log on the large common room fire popped.
He'd been jumpy all day. It wasn't his wand. He still didn't feel right using it
but he had grown accustomed to that sensation and had found that he could
relive it by performing small spells without his wand. He hadn't done anything
more strenuous than a few Lumos and Nox charms but he had found
that they released the tension he was feeling. But his current jitters weren't
caused by that.
He frowned slightly as he recalled the last warning the shadows had given
him. Two visions... Two visions of the future... But one they didn't want and
the other he didn't want.
But in the one they didn't want he had given himself a warning to be true to
his heart and that combined with the other warnings the shadows had given him
were confusing. Danger was stalking his beloved. That's what they had insisted.
Danger in the form of rebellion but that didn't make any sense.
He shook his head. That wasn't what was bothering him... Or rather it was,
but it was only a part of it. Another log cracked on the fire and he jumped
again, earning a glare from Snuffles as his foot jerked.
Harry hadn't been sure how the Gryffindors would take to Snuffles but after
he had out pranked Fred and George, leaving the Weasley twins with brilliant
neon pink hair, and fluorescent orange skin the other Gryffindors had treated
him like one of their own. After all, anyone who could out prank Fred and
George and who didn't say a single word about them breaking curfew was
brilliant in their books. Snuffles wasn't quite the mascot for Gryffindor Tower
but he was coming close.
"Sorry..." he murmured before returning to his contemplation. The
feeling that something was wrong had been growing all day. It had been a tiny
bud in the morning but now it was fully-grown. He closed his eyes, turning
inwards.
The bond with Ginny was still there and it was still closed. He could sense
her dimly as a blue presence. They had spoken about what she had done. With her
in his head they could hardly not talk about it and for the moment they had
agreed that they would leave things as they were. He knew she didn't want that
but he wasn't ready to have her with him all the time so it was the only
choice. He liked her, he really did. But like was not love and while he knew
she had done this in his best interests it was a huge step for him to take. In
future he would open the link but he would do it slowly, so that they could
both get used to each other.
At the moment though he could tell without even looking that she was
studying hard. She had an essay for Transfiguration due and was working whole-heartedly
to get it done. She was slightly worried about it but that was normal school
worry and it wasn't leaking over into his mind. The edginess he felt wasn't
coming from her.
He sighed as he moved his focus towards Red Eyes. The bond with him wasn't
fully open but it wasn't as closed as Ginny's was. It was almost as if this was
the more superficial bond but he knew it was because he hadn't taken the next
step. He was holding himself back but the other person didn't seem to mind. He
concentrated. Their presence was with him all the time but today they had seemed
distracted. Sometimes during class he had almost felt them nudging him towards
the answers and he knew to everyone that it seemed he now rivalled Hermione.
He just knew things. He didn't know how but what he knew was
extensive and even the things he had struggled with now just seemed to make
sense. He knew how to transfigure a racoon into a rodent and he knew that
adding salamander blood to a strengthening potion after the eighth clockwise
turn meant that it was less than worthless but if you added it with a ladle
made of the heart wood of an oak on the ninth clockwise turn then the potion
would be twice as powerful. Snape had been most upset when he'd told him that
but had just pursed his lips and moved on without saying another word.
Red Eyes had been distracted today but that wasn't unusual. Red Eyes was
often distracted but the secure feeling of love that Harry could sense was the
same. But even though nothing had changed he was jumpy. It was something to do
with his unknown lover. Something was wrong with them. He was sure of it.
Softly Harry growled in frustration and stood up. Snuffles jumped up beside
him as he strode to the portrait hole. "I just need to think," he
said to Sirius and Xaos, who was coiled around his arm, as they all scrambled out
of the hole.
Snuffles nodded and Xaos squeezed his arm reassuringly as the Fat Lady swung
closed again.

***
***    ***    ***    ***
"Water! Bring water!"
"Forget water, just bespell it."
"We won't let you do that."
"What?!"
About twenty black robed people stood in three rows, arrayed so that all the
rows could attack and defend without interfering with the others. "Our
Master wishes your destruction."
"Stupefy!" The curse was shouted by several harried
new-comers.
"Protes!" The second row of Death Eaters cast the shield
charm over the entire group.
"Elliot! What are you still doing here?" One of the group that had
shouted the 'Stupefy' curse yelled at one of the wizards who had been trying to
put out the fire.
"Editor, we have to defend the presses!"
"Idiot! If we are being attacked, everyone else is. Get out there and
get the news! We'll protect the presses!"
"Hahahaha! A noble sentiment but do you truly believe you can fight
us?"
The Editor laughed. "You're just a bunch errand boys. This paper's seen
Dark Lords come and go. What makes you believe your master's any
different?"
One of the sub-editors turned. "Bryant, haven't you left yet?"
"B... But..."
"Nothing has ever stopped us from publishing and nothing ever
will."
"It's hard to publish if you're dead!" The lead Death Eater spoke
again, as the forward row cast 'Avada Kedrava,' scattering the gathered
editors.
The head Editor jumped towards Elliot, "Get going boy! Or that front
page won't be yours!"
Elliot blinked and watched for a moment more as the Editors regrouped,
casting their own curses back towards the assembled Death Eaters, striking only
the multi-colour shields but holding their own while another two serendipitously
began putting out the fires in the presses. "That page is mine."
"That's the spirit, me-boy."

***
***    ***    ***    ***
Voldemort surveyed the Atrium with critical eyes. Most of it was still
intact although some parts were blackened where a curse had gone astray. The
damage so far was a lot less than he had anticipated but then he reminded
himself that the Aurors had only begun to respond. His forces had caught the
night shift unawares and had managed to occupy a goodly portion of the Ministry
before they had responded. But they were beginning to fight now. He could feel
the Auror's apparating in, their battle squads tightly defined and their
movements professional.
He smiled. Attacking the Ministry meant that only the best would respond and
he was looking forward to savouring this battle. He drew his dagger in
preparation as his loyal Death Eaters moved around him. He had been pushed back
from the Halls of Records and some Auror's had barricaded the Ministers Office
but those were just token places. If you wanted to conquer the Ministry you had
to take the Department of Mysteries and the Aurors who had sealed it were going
to learn just how powerful he was.
He had considered just destroying the Ministry, blowing the entire complex
into nothingness, leaving one gaping hole but that could not be covered up and
the Muggles would know and he wasn't quite ready for that, so he would have to
capture the Ministry Department by Department.
"Julianad, Yhathi, you are curse breakers, go and unseal the Department
of Mysteries," he murmured the order. "Linme, Rugan, Deoiva, Paiska,
go with them and guard. You may kill the Auror's but do not damage what is in
there. There are things I wish to recover." His named servants bowed
before they melted away into the shadows, leaving him accompanied by three
guards.
"There!" The shout was ringing and came from the upper balconies.
Crimson eyes flashed upwards before the Dark Lord narrowed his eyes and
waved his free hand, deflecting the spells that had been rained down upon him.
He heard but didn't acknowledge the awed and frightened groan that passed
through the younger Aurors. The older ones, the one's who remembered him just
gritted their teeth with determination and continued to advance. He flicked a
couple of spells back but frowned as he felt more apparation signatures in
areas his forces controlled before he relaxed. It appeared someone would be
receiving his thanks for sending reinforcements. Perhaps the forces he had sent
to attack the Daily Prophet had destroyed the insipid paper faster than
anticipated.
There was a burst of static from his communicator but he ignored it as the
Auror's poured on to the Atrium floor. They'd probably cast some sort of
interference charm, not that it would do them any good since his communicators
were charmed against any regular disruption and it would take power equal to
his to break their charms. Instead he nodded to his Death Eater guards as he
swept forward to meet the advance, casting several curses into the gathered
forces. Barring Hogwarts, this was the final battle and he intended to enjoy
what fight the Ministry could offer. It would be a pleasurable diversion before
he crushed Dumbledore and those idiots within his ranks who thought they could
betray him. Once he was finished up, he could then amuse himself inventing new
ways to torture those who had attacked his beloved at Hogwarts, unless of
course, Harry took up all his time.
He smiled, thinking of emerald eyes as three Avada Kedrava's sped his way.
Perhaps that was why Harry's eyes were so appealing - they hid the lure of
death within their depths. He blocked the curses with his dagger, Slytherin's
personal weapon of choice and one of the rubies adorning the hilt became an
emerald, containing the magic and by then it was too late, he was among the
Auror's fighting with curse and dagger.
His movements were like lightning and he could smell the fear of the Aurors
as he moved amongst them. It was in the subtle sweat covering them, the crack
of bones breaking from his blows, the thwack of curse impacting with flesh and
their screams and groans of pain and loss. He was far more than human and far
more than a match for them. He had known it, but it was almost disappointing
that the best the Ministry could offer were not even a diversion. Voldemort
almost sighed as he reined back his true strength. He needn't waste his energy
destroying those that to his eyes were already dead.
And so it was that the curse, aimed for his shoulder blades startled him. He
pitched forward but did not fall and turned smiling softly, summoning his
power, intending to congratulate the foolish Auror before he blasted them into
oblivion, and was surprised.
It lasted an instant before it was replaced by cold anger as the realisation
came to him - the traitors were moving early. Inwardly he admired their
planning. It was a superlative piece of timing, as they would have marshalled
themselves while he was marshalling his true forces, their rebellion hidden
within legitimate gatherings of his forces. And now any ground he had conquered
would fall to them if they could defeat him. Perhaps this wasn't his last
battle with the Ministry. The Dark Lord felt a small surge of anticipation pass
through him. Now that the Ministry knew how dangerous he was, perhaps they
would train their Aurors better so that they could offer him a true fight next
time.
For now though, he had a rebellion to crush.
"MacNair..." he whispered, extending a small pulse of power
through the Dark Mark to the man.
As expected, the man screamed as the skull and snake burned into his arm
constricted. Dissenters rarely bothered to think... He marked his forces as his
own. They were tied to him. They could not run. They could not hide. And they
could not escape. If they were powerful enough they could block his presence
but only if he wasn't actively seeking them. Their oaths to him, enforced by
his Mark were not something that could be reneged upon. His mark was a dark
magical contract. And they always seemed to forget that.
"MacNair," he whispered the name again. "Where is your
leader?"
"I am here, My Lord."
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