Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

The Dark Lord and the orphan	By : Meinouda Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Slash - Male/Male Views: 16047 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own anything of Harry Potter or the Harry Potter world created by J.K Rowling. I do not make money with this story

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
Warnings: Master/Slave (not heavy, but it's there)

regular speech: Dying or getting killed isn't something unnatural. Living aimlessly without a purpose is.

parslemouth: dying or getting killed isn't something unnatural. Living aimlessly without a purpose is."

(qoute by Kiba, wolf's rain)

Chapter 5

Blue the slave

Lunch came too fast. Harry didn’t feel like eating, but he knew the Lord would not be pleased if he didn’t show up.

He pushed himself upright, walked to the door and wandered into the hallway. He remembered the way, but he was a bit disgruntled by the fact that the Lord hadn’t showed up. Alone again he hurried down the stairs.

The clock struck twelve and Harry stood in front of the grand door of the dinner hall. He could hear talking inside and he felt a little twinge of fear. Would the Lord punish him for being late? He closed his eyes, searched his courage, lifted his hand and knocked. The voices stopped and the door opened. Harry looked inside and he resisted the urge to lower his eyes when everyone stared at him. He noticed that the Lord wasn’t there yet, but he nonetheless walked to his stool. Men and women watched him with interest.

Harry kept his eyes on the stool and when he placed himself on it, he noticed that his head didn’t even reach the table. The stool wasn’t comfortable either.

The death eaters didn’t say anything, which suited Harry just fine. He didn’t know these men and women, but he had heard many stories about them.

“Harry, do you not recognize me young child?” He did and he looked up. The friendly blue eyes of Narcissa Malfoy met his.

“Cissy! I mean…”

“Cissy is fine Harry. How are you?” The woman next to Cissy glared at him, but Harry tried to ignore her. He did recognize her from the newspaper.

“I’m fine, thank you. Where is…”

“The Dark Lord will be here shortly. Harry…” Harry could see some sort of pity in her eyes.

“Does the Lord want you…” She waved at the stool, but was interrupted by the man next to her.

“Narcissa! We do not interfere with our Lord. Let the boy be.” A stern man with long blond hair glared at Cissa. Harry did lower his eyes then, more of the death eaters started glaring at him.

“Little Harry Potter. Did master hurt you already?” He looked at the woman.

“Little baby boy with master.” She said, leaning closer.

“A squib like you shouldn’t even be touched by my master!” A snarl this time, but Harry only arched his eyebrow at her. If she wanted a fight, she could get one.

“Enough Bellatrix.” The woman with the black curls looked up, but then she bowed her head like the others. Lord Voldemort had entered.

The Lord placed himself at the head of the table, which filled itself immediately with food. Bowls with fruit, plates with bread and cheese, ham and even a jar of honey stood on the table. The Lord did not eat, but Harry could see several men grab some plates. His stomach growled but he looked down. He was used to miss meals, he didn’t need to eat!

Voldemort moved and Harry could see how the man placed some bread and cheese on a plate. He then placed it on Harry’s lap.

“Thank you Sir.” He whispered softly. The Lord didn’t react. Harry kept his head low while the death eaters started to report their activities.

Something moved under the table. Harry ducked his head a little and stared at the sight before him. A boy, he couldn’t be older than 14, blinked up at him from his position on the ground. He was dressed only in a black sweatpants and a very big dark shirt that hung from his body. Around his small pale neck was a simple collar that fitted smugly. He had soft blond hair and deep blue eyes. Harry could see a rope – a leach – going from the collar to the hand of a death eater. A deep flush made itself known on Harry’s cheeks. The boy moved a bit until he was completely turned to Harry, he lifted his hand and pointed to a tag that hung from the collar.

“Blue.” Harry whispered. The boy nodded and smiled shyly. The death eater, to who he belonged, moved and Blue was tugged closer. Harry frowned a little. He hadn’t known that wizards held slaves...

The boy pointed at Harry.

“I’m Harry Potter.” Blue tilted his head to the side and then his eyes widened.

“The Harry Potter?” His voice was soft, but everybody heard him and a silence fell above them. Harry didn’t know why the boy looked fearful, but he understood when he himself was grabbed by the neck and pulled backwards. He hissed in pain and glanced at the Lord.

“Master!” He turned his head a little and saw how one death eater pulled Blue from under the table. The boy looked small while kneeling in front of his master. Scared too.

“I’m sorry Master! Please…”

“Shut up!” The boy flinched.

“My Lord…” The death eater looked back at Lord Voldemort.

“You should teach your slave some manners, Xaley.” The man sneered at the boy and nodded.

“Now, my Lord?” He asked and he smiled a little more when the boy shivered. Lord Voldemort smirked and waved a hand at him.

It happened fast. The boy was stripped with magic in a second while the death eater held a conjured whip in his hand. Blue whimpered but kept kneeling, even when the man lifted the whip and struck. But it was not Blue he hit.

Harry had seen it happen before it did. The Lord his grip had loosened on his neck and Harry had found a chance to help. He jumped up and threw himself between the whip and the young boy. It stung, but Harry stayed on his feet, his back turned a little to the man and his tool.

He turned his head to the Lord.

“The boy didn’t do anything wrong! I told him my name, he reacted. It’s called being polite.” He said while aiming a little sneer at the death eater.

Lord Voldemort stood, eyeing the place where Harry had been hit with the whip. His arm didn’t bleed, but there was a little hole in his clothing and a bruise was forming on the arm.

“Leave.” The death eaters moved as one and Harry took some steps back when the Master of Blue took him by the leash and pulled him away. Blue glanced at him and offered a silent smile. Harry smiled back and nodded comforting.

The bruise still hurt a bit, but Harry could endure pain. He wasn’t afraid of pain, but he couldn’t say that he wasn’t afraid of the look the Lord gave him. Harry didn’t let the man start.

“Why did he call me ‘the’ Harry Potter? This has something to do with why you chose me, doesn’t it?” The Lord was looking at him with an expression of boredom on his face.

“Maybe mate isn’t dumb.” Harry swiveled his head to the enormous snake that sat on the table. Voldemort glanced from her back to Harry.

“What? What did she just…?” He shook his head and looked back at the Lord.

“You understand her.” Voldemort said. Harry frowned at him and nodded. Voldemort took a step closer.

“Say something boy.”

“What do you want me to say? It’s your stupid snake that speaks!” Voldemort cocked his head to the side. The boy did not speak in the snake language and yet…when a snake hissed at a parslemouth, or a human hissed, that parslemouth answered automatically in the snake language. Harry did not.

Voldemort shook his head slowly and took a step closer. The boy narrowed his eyes defiantly and squared his shoulders, as if meant to say that Voldemort had to back of.

“I had no intentions of talking to you, except maybe for the occasional needed word. But I see now that I need to know much more about you.” Voldemort said amused.

“You? You need to know more about me? I need to know more about me!” Harry yelled at the man. He needed answers! Voldemort drew his wand calmly and pointed it at Harry. He sounded calm, but he looked almost murderous.

“Go to the room.” The Lord his voice was high, cold and Harry clamped his mouth shut. He turned on his heel, knowing very well what that wand could do. The Lord stepped behind him until they reached the bedroom. The door opened itself and the Lord pushed Harry inside. Harry stumbled a bit and fell on the ground. He closed his eyes to block the pain and looked over his shoulder at the Lord. Voldemort showed no warmth, no emotion.

“Don’t move. Don’t speak. Merlin help me, if I could I would tell you to stop breathing.” Harry didn’t know why Voldemort was this mad, but he wasn’t going to ask.

“Stay right there and merlin help you Potter if you cause any more trouble.” He turned and slammed the door shut.

Harry stared at the door. Maybe he shouldn’t have yelled at the Lord. He knew Voldemort had a short temper, he shouldn’t toy with Him. He lowered his butt a little but kept sitting on his knees. His stomach growled a little, but Harry ignored it. Lunch hadn’t really gone as planned…He thought back to Blue and felt a rush going through his belly.

Belonging. Blue belonged to another person. Yes a death eater, but he belonged. Harry did not.

A person’s life is measured by the amount of people he belongs to, someone had once told Harry.

Belonging, like a child did with his parents. Belonging, like a boy surrounded by his friends. Belonging, like having a lover. Belonging, being owned. Harry knew nothing of that kind. He had no parents to belong too, and the substitute teachers and caretakers in the orphanage didn’t count. He had no real friends he could call his own. He didn’t belong with Hermione and Ron. They had a different life than he. They accepted him, but they knew just as well that Harry didn’t really belong with them.

A lover? Harry was no virgin, but he had never felt the loving embrace of a man. Sweet strong arms that were often revered to as ‘home’.

But being owned…Harry knew that feeling. True, he had never really been owned by anyone, but the boys he had dated in the orphanage often said that they had ‘owned’ him. They hadn’t, not really. They fucked him, yes, but he did not call them Master or Sir. They had used him, not owned him.

Blue was owned, belonged to someone. Harry knew he belonged to no-one.

The young boy lowered his head, while keeping his hands on his thighs. He needed to pee, but he did not move. Harry knew this was stupid. Voldemort was not a good man to belong too. Harry didn’t want him, didn’t trust him enough for those things. He didn’t want to become a mindless slave, scared of his Master. But, sitting there on the floor, Harry let himself believe that, just for one moment, he did belong somewhere.

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The Dark Lord and the orphan