Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Carry on my Wayward Son	By : BlackDawnRose Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Voldemort Views: 18784 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 9
Disclaimer: I do not own HP or make any money from this work of fiction

Chapter List
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Hi everyone. So this is last weeks update that was missed obviously. Unfortunately my son got quite sick with influenza B on last Thursday and I got sick on Sunday. All in all it was a rubbish week. My poor little man could barely walk and sleep was a rare thing in our household. It doesn’t happen that much as it is so getting less really makes my life hard.
I have to ask a question, A reviewer has asked me to make it obvious when parcel tongue is being spoken. I’ve honestly never seen it necessary since it’s only when someone is talking to Nagini and what else would they be speaking? So I’d like to ask if anyone else thinks it is necessary. I’ve used italics in this chapter but I’d like to know if you think it’s needed or not.
Anyway onto the chapter and there will be more notes at the end.
Let the Games Begin
The following morning when Harry awoke it took him several moments to work out where he was. When the answer came to him it was accompanied by a feeling of dread and Harry had to fight hard not to panic at the thought that there was only a wall between him and the dark lord.
‘He can’t hurt you, he can’t hurt you,” he chanted to himself, even though he knew it wasn’t entirely true. It took him a lot of effort, but he eventually managed to calm himself and just as his heart beat was returning to its normal rate, a pop sounded near the door making him jump and his heart raced in his chest once more. It turned out to be Lissy popping in to wake him up and she immediately apologised for startling him.
“It’s fine, Lissy,” he replied, giving the elf who was standing at the door, looking wary, a reassuring smile. “Did you want me for something?” he asked.
“Master wishes Harry Potter to rise and dress for breakfast,” Lissy replied. A click of her fingers and a mask appeared in her hands. “Master wishes Harry Potter to wear this down to breakfast,” she explained, holding it out to him.
Harry took the mask and studied it. Unlike the mask from the previous evening this one was obviously designed to be worn for longer periods of time. It was made of what Harry figured was silver and the inside was lined with what appeared to be black silk. It still had an unusual shape to it, with curling edges, one bigger than the rest of course to cover Harry’s scar. The outside was polished silver with swirls of green painted on for decoration and small emeralds imbedded in the outside of the eye holes. Quite honestly it was beautiful and must have cost the dark lord some money.
Harry looked up and suddenly realised Lissy had disappeared. He was about to call out to her, confused as to how he was meant to put the mask on, when the elf reappeared with an outfit picked out for him floating behind her. She didn’t waste any time dressing him in a pair of black pants, an emerald green shirt that matched the mask and a fitted outer robe with long sleeves that hugged his arms and buttoned up at the front down to his waist. It was the same green as the shirt with black accents along the sleeves, down the breast and along the collar and bottom seam, which started at the end of the buttons and sloped down, covering part of his thigh and flowing out and around to the back of his body, ending at the knees. All in all he looked rather dashing and when Lissy placed the mask on his face all he could think was that he looked like a great hero out of a muggle film.
Well, he may have to be in the service of the dark lord, but at least he’d look cool while he was doing it. He moved and turned a couple of times to see how the fabric gave and how well the mask would stay in place. He was pleased to find that not only did the clothes move perfectly with him, but the mask was perfectly fitted to his face and didn’t move an inch. His wand holster was still on his wrist, under the robe, which thankfully didn’t impede the action of it at all. Lastly he shrunk and pocketed the wooden box of personal items he’d brought with him.
Happy with the end result and reassured that he’d be able to protect himself if necessary, Harry thanked Lissy and asked her to show him the way to breakfast.
Lissy showed him the way downstairs and through the manor to the dining room. When they arrived it was to find Voldemort seated at the head of the table, holding a paper in one hand and a cup of tea in another. A number of death eaters sat in other seats around the table, chatting quietly amongst themselves, Bellatrix and Rodolphus among them. They all looked up as Harry entered the room and he made sure not to show just how very nervous he was right at that moment.
“Ah, there you are, my dear,” Voldemort greeted, motioning to the only empty chair at the table, which also happened to be beside him on the right. “Do come and join us,” he directed and Harry moved swiftly to the chair, allowing Lissy to pull it out for him before sitting down. The table was full of food and it all looked really good.
As soon as Harry was settled Voldemort vanished his paper and reached out for some food. Once he was done and had sat back to eat, the other death eaters reached out for their own food and began eating.
Harry took a few pieces of toast and some eggs and was sitting back to eat when Lissy appeared beside him with a fresh pot of tea. She placed it on the table in front of him and figuring that, like the food, the dark lord would want first dibs on the tea, Harry picked up the pot intending to offer him some.
As soon as the pot moved Voldemort looked up from his meal and Harry suddenly realised the whole table had fallen silent and all eyes were on him. Okay, what had he done wrong? He looked up at the dark lord’s unreadable gaze and hoping he wasn’t about to get himself in trouble he quietly asked.
“Would you like some more tea, My Lord?”
Voldemort watched him for another few moments before a small smile appeared on the man’s face. “Why yes, thank you, pet,” he replied pleasantly and returned to his meal. The rest of the death eaters did the same and Harry sighed internally, thankful he’d done the right thing. He asked the man how he liked it as he filled up the cup and when Voldemort replied with straight black Harry filled it to the top before turning to fill his own cup.
He ate his breakfast quickly, keenly aware of the many sets of eyes currently watching his every move. He found it quite ironic that Voldemort, the only person actually aware of who he was, was the only person not watching him. Then again Voldemort also knew Harry had to serve him for the rest of his life so what did he have to be worried about? Harry studiously avoided eye contact with everyone but the dark lord himself and focused instead on the conversations going on around him, in case anyone was talking about anything important.
Voldemort finished his breakfast and turned to Harry with questioning eyes. “Oh, dearest, Bellatrix was wondering if you’d be so kind as to allow her and Rodolphus to play with your toy this morning?” he asked.
“My toy, My Lord?” Harry asked, confused about what the man meant.
“Umbridge,” Voldemort clarified. “She was your gift last night and I know you wanted her dead. Do you mind how that comes about? Do you wish to kill her yourself or may Bellatrix and Rodolphus do it for you?” the Dark Lord asked.
“Oh …” Harry thought about it. He didn’t mind who actually killed the old bag, he did however have a little revenge he wished to partake in before the woman expired. “There is something I’d like to do to the soon to be departed Umbridge first,” Harry explained. “If she survives it however I have no problem with Bellatrix and Rodolphus using her for their pleasure. As long as you have no objections, My Lord?” Harry finished, wanting to make sure Voldemort hadn’t wanted Harry to kill her himself.
“Not at all. What exactly did you have in mind for our dear Umbridge? Voldemort asked curiously.
Harry smiled at the Dark Lord. “I could explain it to you if you like, My Lord, however if you wished to wait and see for yourself if may be more fun,” he offered.
Voldemort studied him for a moment before a wide grin broke out on his inhumanly beautiful face. “Very well, pet, I will wait and be surprised,” he replied, a hint of dark delight in his tone.
Harry nodded. “As you wish, My Lord,” he replied and turned back to finish what was left of his tea. “May I begin now, or do you require my presence, My Lord?” he asked politely, more keen than he probably should be to pay the old bitch back.
“You may begin, my dear, when shall I come down to observe your masterpiece?” the Dark Lord asked.
Harry thought about it. “Maybe give me a couple of hours,” he replied.
“Very well, I shall see you in two hours,” The Dark Lord agreed and Harry stood from his chair, bowed to the Dark Lord and asked Lissy to show him the way to the dungeons.
They were dark, cold, damp and desolate; exactly the way a dungeon should be. As Lissy guided Harry to Umbridge’s cell they passed Mad Eye, strung up on the wall of his own cell and looking considerably worse for wear. Harry shouldn’t have found the sight as enjoyable as he did, but what did it matter? If he was going to be spending the rest of his life in the company of the dark lord he may as well enjoy these things; he’d be seeing plenty of them and the man had betrayed him. Grinning widely Harry continued on down to the hated witch’s cell, wondering if the dark lord might allow him to suggest possible punishments for the auror.
Umbridge was huddled in the corner of her cell when Harry arrived and Lissy opened the door for him. She looked up at the noise and immediately climbed to her feet, moving to meet him at the door.
“At last someone has come to let me out,” the woman exclaimed, as if her imprisonment had put her out greatly. She stopped in front of him and glared at him sternly. “You were very rude to me at the ball when all I was trying to do was welcome you to our ranks. Since you obviously didn’t have the good grace to explain that to our Lord I am going to use whatever magic and contacts are necessary to ensure you end up in here and never leave!” she screeched and moved to walk past him, demanding to know where her wand was.
Harry stopped her with a body-bind spell, cast a gaging spell on the woman so she couldn’t speak and levitated her back into her cell while asking Lissy to procure a desk and a chair from somewhere. He strung her up to the wall while he was waiting for the elf to return and made sure her indignant eyes were looking straight into his angry green ones when he said. “You are not going anywhere, bitch. Your imprisonment wasn’t just not prevented by me, it was in fact a gift from the Dark Lord which I requested … well not exactly, I asked for your death and he decided to imprison you and allow me to do it myself,” Harry informed her with a sharp smile. “Lovely of him wasn’t it?” He asked, enjoying the way the woman’s eyes now looked at him in fear.
“Now I’m not going to kill you.” Umbridge looked relieved but Harry wasn’t finished. “Not right away.” The fear was back with force. “You have a bit of a debt to repay to myself and some friends of mine after that lovely year you spent at my school.” Her eyes widened in surprise. “And I intend to make sure you pay for every tear, sob, scar and moment of pain you inflicted on those that matter to me.” He pulled his little wooden box of personal items from his pocket, returned it to its original size and withdrew a long feathered quill and a long roll of white parchment from within it before shrinking it and returning it to his pocket.
He held the quill in front of her. “You made us all use blood quills as a punishment, today you are going to use one. Only you’re not going to write until you get the point, you’re going to write until I’m satisfied you’ve gotten the point and when I’m done with you and you’ve lived to regret what you did, Bellatrix and Rodolphus are going to come in here and see if there’s anything left of you to play with,” Harry explained with a smile and Umbridge’s frightened eyes began to fill with tears.
“Oh I wouldn’t bother crying yet,” Harry told her. “We haven’t even started and you wouldn’t want to waste your tears before you actually need them would you?” he asked, mimicking the fake, sweet, condescending tone she’d spoken to him with when she’d made him use the quill.
Umbridge started to sob as Lissy returned to the dungeon with a desk and chair and Harry levitated the woman over to the chair before unbinding one of her hands and handing her the quill. The fear in her eyes increased as the compulsion spell Harry had woven into the quill wrapped around her hand, forcing it to start moving of its own accord. Harry placed the roll of parchment down on the desk in front of her and the quill began to scratch out the words Harry had woven into the compulsion spell. Umbridge whimpered as the first letter formed on the page as well as the back of her hand.
Harry would admit, if only to himself, that he felt slightly sick at the thought of what he was forcing another human being to do. It wasn’t enough to stop him though. She’d done this to his friends, mere children and she deserved to know how it felt.
When the dark lord arrived down in the dungeons a little under two hours later, Umbridge’s whimpering form was once more hanging from the wall of the dungeon, stripped down to her disgusting pink underwear so Harry could study his handy work. The full parchment had been magically stuck to the opposite wall so she could see the words, written in her blood, shining back at her as they dried and every inch of her skin, from her head to her toes, had the same sentence carved into it over and over again.
Harry wanted to vomit knowing he’d cause this, but at the same time he felt a strong sense of pride at his accomplishment. Every inch of suffering she’d inflicted on his friends had been repaid and she’d never be able to hurt another child like she had them.
He turned as he heard Voldemort open the door to the cell and waited to see what the Dark Lord thought of his handiwork. Voldemort moved over to where Umbridge was hanging and poked her with a finger, bringing an answering whimper from the still gagged woman. The assessing eyes were alight with enjoyment until they moved to Umbridge’s stomach where the full sentence could be read without moving her body. His eyes narrowed then and he looked over to the desk that Harry hadn’t removed from the room and the quill still sitting on it. “Show me your hands,” he ordered angrily.
Harry did as he was told and held out his hands, his eyes never leaving Umbridge’s body. Voldemort’s hands were surprisingly gentle as he turned Harry’s over, seemingly studying them intently. When he looked up again his attention turned back to Umbridge and with a wave of his hand an eerie green cloud appeared in the cell above her.
Harry watched in curiosity as the cloud began dropping what appeared to be green raindrops and when they touched the woman she whimpered around her gag. As more fell they slid down the woman’s skin and Harry noticed they imbedded themselves in the words carved from the quill. She’d whimpered through the process, when the cloud was empty and the words were all full the liquid began to glow and Umbridge screamed as the smell of burnt flesh filled the air. Her eyes flew open and Voldemort moved forward until he was mere inches from her face.
“I ordered you to get rid of the headmaster and take over the curriculum, not to damage the children!” he snarled. “What would be the point of ridding the magical world of muggles and their influence if all the magical children are too damaged to use their magic properly? You moronic fool, have you no brain at all!” he snapped and she screamed louder around her gag, the words carved into her skin glowing brighter.
He moved away from her then and turned back to where Harry was standing, watching him cautiously.
“Come, Bellatrix and Rodolphus can finish this off,” he ordered, moving toward the door. Harry followed him out of the cell and as he closed the door and secured it behind them Harry took one last look at the woman writhing against the bonds holding her to the wall and the words on her stomach that were now glowing an even brighter green.
“I MUST NOT TORTURE CHILDREN!”
XX
Voldemort called a Medi-wizard to look at Harry and explained the reason before disappearing from the throne room with a growled warning to the man of what would happen to him if he did not do his job properly. The Medi-wizard looked over Harry and cast several diagnostic spells before ordering immediate bed rest and prescribing a very powerful healing spell that would leave Harry asleep for several days. Voldemort returned to the room moments later and upon explanation by the Medi-wizard, commanded the man to perform the spell immediately.
It all happened so fast and before Harry could protest, the spell had been cast and he felt the drowsiness setting in and dragging him under. The Dark Lord immediately took hold of his arm and began leading him through the manor to his room. Harry started to panic. What if Severus turned up before he awoke? He hadn’t yet had a chance to explain to Voldemort what happened the night Dumbledore was supposed to die. If Severus turned up now he’d be killed.
“My Lord, wait, there’s something I have to tell you,” he said, knowing his voice was going to start slurring soon.
“You will tell me when you awaken,” Voldemort ordered as they arrived at his room and passed through it to Harry’s.
“No, I … have to tell you now, it’s about … about Snape … the night Dumbledore was supposed to die,” his words were getting more and more slurred as the moments passed and he knew he had to speak quickly.
“What about him?” Voldemort demanded, stopping them just beside Harry’s bed.
Harry’s vision blurred. “Not … traitor,” he managed before darkness overtook him and his body shut down completely.
XX
Voldemort stood at the door to Umbridge’s cell watching the woman flail about and shriek as Bellatrix and Rodolphus played their twisted games with her. Stupid woman, did she have no idea what those quills could do to people?
“Tom?” He looked over as Nagini approached him. “The boy is in his room sleeping and will not wake, what has happened?” she asked concerned.
Voldemort motioned inside the cell and explained. “It has been revealed to me this morning that when I sent Umbridge to take over Dumbledore’s position within Hogwarts she had the children using blood quills as a punishment.”
Nagini hissed angrily and turned glaring eyes toward the thrashing woman. “Was she not aware of the damage they cause hatchlings?” she asked incredulously.
“I do not know and nor do I care, she is being dealt with and will not be a bother any longer. Mr Potter had suffered some ill effects from her stupidity, that now thankfully has been healed, but he will be out for several days,” Voldemort explained. “I have sent word to my death eaters working in the ministry and a letter will be sent out to all the Hogwarts parents informing them of the quill’s use, its possible side effects and a suggestion that they take the children to a healer for evaluation. A letter will also be going to the school itself informing them so they can give each child a medical examination when they return at the start of the new year, in case some of the parents did not heed the letter’s warning. Of course the school should have done so already, but it is obvious by Mr Potter’s condition that they have not. Most likely they were also ignorant of the damage the quill could inflict.
The Dark Lord sighed. “It seems I have not been keeping my followers in line quite well enough, my love,” he said, with a sad shake of his head. “We will have to remedy that. Perhaps I should leave Miss Umbridge, or what’s left of her, in the foyer as an example.” He thought about that for a moment, it might just be the perfect deterrent.
He turned and began making his way back up to the main house, deciding to think it over for a while. “On a more positive note it seems Mr Potter will have some very interesting things to tell me when he awakens; even more so than I had originally thought,” he told Nagini as she slithered along beside him.
“Oh?” she asked curiously.
“Yes, it seems Harry was there the night Dumbledore was supposed to be killed and he knows something about why this did not take place. He mentioned something before he fell asleep, but it was too slurred for me to make out. I imagine we will find out when he awakens,” Voldemort finished with a small smile.
“Perhaps it will be good news,” Nagini suggested hopefully.
“One can hope,” Voldemort agreed.
XX
End of chapter.
So what did we think? What did we think of Harry’s revenge on Umbridge? I’ve read far too many stories where Harry joins Voldemort and completely changes from a nice guy to a murderous killer and I’m really not a fan of that. I don’t plan to change Harry at his core, he’s still going to be a sweet, caring guy who doesn’t like to hurt others in general, but the people who betrayed him he’s going to hate and Umbridge … well who doesn’t hate her? I think his hatred for her is justified and while I do think torture would make him feel retched and sick I think he would enjoy seeing her pay for what she did to them that year as well. I also like the idea of the blood quill being something damaging to people is used over long periods, whether it is mean tot be or not. I don’t think a dark item like that could be used over and over without damaging the user somewhat hence the healing sleep Harry will have to be in for a few days. I also think I kept Voldemort in character with him having Harry healed and being upset about the children being damaged in any way. After all he does offer for them to give up during the battle of Hogwarts because he doesn’t want to waste the magical blood. Anyway I’d like to know what you think.
As always reviews make me very happy and I need some happy after the rubbish of the last week so if you want to take pity on me and leave a review I really would love you very much :)
See you soon
Kayla xxoo
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Carry on my Wayward Son