Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Weapon	By : uqui Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Voldemort Views: 105432 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 26
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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Warning: I realise this is AFFnet so warnings, aren't really mandatory, but this chapter has more than the usual amount of violence. If this offends you then please skip the second half.

dominique1 - thank you for the reviews. Even if Harry forgave Millicent and Blaise, I don't think his much older lover would.

LeaniaSTL - The Ministry worker and the Journal will become clear. Ginny is going to come around shortly and Severus is in a very bad position. All he needs to do is say yes to the Shadows and every problem goes away but he's stubborn. Thank you

unneeded - ... Thank you... I'll email you replies.

27/04/2012

Thank you to SuryaPrakash for the betaing. If there are mistakes, they are my fault.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed. I'm very happy that people are enjoying the fic, and I fervently hope that they continue to enjoy the fic.

Weapon LXX This Is What It Cost Me

So far Harry was having a good Halloween. He almost always enjoyed Halloween at Hogwarts. Well, except for the troll... the Chamber of Secrets being opened... Sirius attacking the Fat Lady... and the Goblet of Fire... Based on his memories, perhaps he should just skip the Feast and enjoy the day. Usually nothing bad happened during the day.

But he was looking forward to the Feast. The House Elves made pumpkin pie today that was sickly sweet on the tongue with the first bite but which mellowed out into a smooth rich cinnamon spiced pumpkin that had a hint of maple. He usually didn't care what he ate; all the food the House Elves prepared was delicious but this pie was really good. It was one of the few dishes he looked forward to.

So far today, he'd managed to get the Gryffindor Quidditch team out for a fly before they'd had breakfast. After that, most were left to their own devices for the day. A few were catching up on homework and Harry was enjoying the time off. The Aurors had said they would call him if anything happened, but after the battle in Diagon Alley, they didn't feel as if anything was going to happen today, which, if truth be told, had a lot of people on edge. Halloween was a day of power for the Dark Lord so it was unusual for him not to be doing something. The Aurors were on alert, but that was all they could do for the moment.

Harry was resisting the urge to reach out to his beloved and just find out if something was due to happen. If he did that then, while he trusted his acting, he may be that little bit unrealistic on the day when everyone was on edge and he didn't want to risk that. They'd had lunch then Ron and Hermione had disappeared to spend some time together, Neville had said that he needed to catch up on his correspondence and Luna was around somewhere. Ginny was watching him, and Harry would tell she wanted to ask him to go for a walk or something, but she was still a bit nervous after their talk the other day.

It was a good thing she was not bothering him today. Despite the fact he was looking forward to the Feast, his anger had not abated from before and he recognised the truth that he really did want them to suffer. Voldemort was doing his best, but Harry wanted to see their pain in person... he wanted... he wasn't sure exactly what he wanted beyond seeing them suffer, but his fingers itched. The Shadows had laughed at him, not mockingly but comfortingly, lovingly, as they wrapped around him softly. Today they formed all his robes and the sensation of them against his skin, and swirling around him was as if he was held in a warm embrace. They were softer than the finest silks and stronger than dragon hide. He felt loved. Not the same as Voldemort's love, but love never the less.

He was a little bit at a loose end today, almost as if he was waiting for something. :Go and see Draco?: the shadows suggested.

Actually that wasn't a bad idea. He hadn't seen the Slytherin in a while and no doubt he would have some amusing insights. Almost without thinking he turned his steps towards the dungeons. The Slytherins wouldn't let him in, but Draco would come by at some stage. He just had to be patient.

"Ha... Mr. Potter," the voice was female and vaguely familiar to him. It was surprised.

The Shadows tightened around him as he turned in the narrow corridor he had been walking down. Green eyes widened slightly as he saw who was there. "Millicent," he whispered, his voice trembling.

"What are you doi... No, it doesn't matter," she shook her head and as Harry watched, she fell to her knees on the stone, her hands reaching out and her head bowed. He could see the tears in her eyes, but he was not moved. "I'm... sorry," Millicent said, her voice a whisper but full of emotion.

Harry just looked at her and as he looked, something snapped within him.

"I know..." Millicent choked. "I know what I did was wrong... and I know it has caused you a lot of pain but please... I am so sorry."

When Harry remained silent, Millicent looked up and gasped. Emerald eyes burned into her and she wasn't even sure he was seeing her.

"Please... It has cost me," she whispered looking back down at the stone. For an instant Harry had seemed as distant as the sun and as hard as the moon's clear white light. He had seemed to be more than human and while he hadn't moved, somehow she felt crushed beneath his power.

Harry swallowed hard. He wasn't sure what Millicent was trying to do but the anger that had been simmering just beneath his conscious mind blazed to the fore, and before he thought he was moving.

"It cost you?" he snarled as Millicent clawed at his arm. Harry didn't feel her weight as he held his fellow Sixth Year by her throat against the wall. He didn't notice how his animagus form had come forth slightly, forming claws on his fingertips. He didn't notice the way she struggled and kicked at him, he didn't notice the thin trail of blood that dripped from her lip, or the smear on the wall behind her head, he didn't notice anything but the red haze before his eyes and the burning anger in his soul.

"It cost you?" He repeated, vaguely feeling Fawkes awaken within him and scream in frustration as the anger flattened the phoenix's presence. Fawkes tried to reinforce himself, but against that much emotion, even a phoenix wasn't strong enough. "What exactly do you think it cost me?" he snarled and without thinking the Shadows wrapped around everything and Harry apparated, leaving the hall bursting with light.

In the Headmaster's office Fawkes screamed and around him flame appeared. Dumbledore spun and no matter how surprised he was, he cast quickly dousing the fire that had spread out from the phoenix.

"What's the matter?" the old wizard asked as the fire faded from the phoenix.

:It's Harry,: Fawkes replied and Albus could see the firebird's agitation. :Something triggered his anger and ...:

"And?" Dumbledore prompted.

:And he just apparated through the wards.:

"Where?"

:I don't know.: The admission wasn't easy for the phoenix.

Dumbledore closed his eyes as he thought. Fawkes had reported that Harry was still angry over the events of last year and of his childhood. It was something the old wizard understood and it was something he expected. It would have been nice if Harry had of recovered, but that would have been far too quick and far too easy so he had no choice but to accept that. The initiation into the Order of the Phoenix had shown that Harry understood adult emotion and while that was good, and while he did spend time with Miss Weasley, it appeared the young lady was not enough to dull his anger. It was most likely that the only thing that would dull his anger was time... or perhaps...

"Let him go," Dumbledore heard himself say.

:What?: Fawkes seemed outraged.

"Let him go," Albus repeated. "He needs to do this. We can comfort him as much as want but that's not dealing with the anger. He's not ready to talk yet, but Fawkes, talking isn't the only way to deal with anger. Just make sure that he is safe, but otherwise leave him be. He'll probably go somewhere and destroy a few things, but knowing Harry it will just be some rocks or something. He needs to work the anger out of his system and since Voldemort doesn't appear to have plans for this Halloween, young Mr. Potter can't work out that anger by fighting him, so this is the best."

:I don't like it. What if he comes across Death Eaters?:

Dumbledore actually chuckled. "Then I feel very sorry for the Death Eaters."

Fawkes hopped distractedly, first gripping his perch with his left claw, then with his right. :I do not like it,: he said. :But I do not have much choice. I cannot track him through this much anger.: The phoenix seemed to shiver. Phoenixes were beings of light and the baser emotions drove them away.

"Just let him know, we are here for him," Dumbledore added before he settled back to his desk, looking at the paperwork. There were so many details he had to oversee.

Fawkes whistled slightly and the old wizard knew that was all the agreement he'd get from the phoenix on this. :I will let him know,: Fawkes said finally before spreading his wings and soaring out the open window.

Dumbledore sighed and sat back for a moment. Fawkes was not happy, but his understanding of extreme human emotion was sometimes flawed. Harry would be better for this, more controlled and that could only benefit them. The small breach in security could be overlooked in the long run and because with this, the boy would trust them more when he remembered that they accepted his anger as a natural part of healing and that they had respected his privacy.

Correctly controlled, this could be to their advantage.

The Dark Lord frowned. There was something in the air, something he could feel. It was a day of power, but this was something beyond that and whether it would be good or ill he could not tell. Many of his forces were disappointed that he had not ordered an extraordinary attack today, but they were obedient and while they did not understand the reasons, they merely took the time to celebrate the holiday. He hadn't forgotten his prisoners either and before him there were several of Lucius's rebels in various states of pain. He was impressed with the former Azkaban prisoners' creativity when it came to torture, especially since the only thing he'd forbidden them to do was kill. Not that there were many of Lucius's forces alive still. The Dark Mark required blood sacrifice to apply so at the end of their pain there was death as the wizards swore loyalty to him.

The last of those in Azkaban who were not already Death Eaters were swearing their loyalty to him today. Not all of them had, of course, and he'd killed a few. Most of the short-term prisoners were still locked up below though he was considering Imperioing them and letting them go. Lucius was in what had become his normal position of honour so that he could see everything. While the fish hooks had been effective, today tiny blades were driven into his flesh at each joint and some of his blood vessels had been brought to the surface and were being held there by thin slivers of metal which were hot with the magic of the room. Each of the vessels had been pierced so that blood dripped over Lucius. The wizard was silent but Voldemort could smell his pain.

He was about to call a halt to the festivities when he saw it, a gathering darkness in the back of his throne room. The more sensitive of his forces also felt it and turned. Even Lucius looked over but it appeared for a moment as nothing more than a deep shadow.

"Leave," Voldemort ordered pre-emptively.

His forces turned their attention back to him and in that instant from the darkness a footfall was heard. Voldemort had actually never seen his beloved in this form but he could feel the power literally rolling off his precious Harry. He could also feel the anger and the rage. A girl he didn't recognise fell to the ground unconscious behind Harry as he stepped further into the room. Harry looked the very definition of a mage warrior. His hood was up, obscuring his features, magic seemed to ripple around him and there was a sense of barely controlled power coming from him. No weapons were visible and runes were embedded in the inky darkness of his robes. They glittered and vanished, shifting always such that no one could see what they were or how to counter them.

"Leave," Voldemort ordered again. This time a few of the wizards got the message, though perhaps they were scared of the absolute power Harry was radiating. With a flick of his wand, the prisoners were returned to their cells. He would deal with any corpses later since it was obvious that Harry needed his attention now.

The Dark Lord didn't even see his beloved draw the sword but there was a flash of steel and one of the slower wizards screamed in pain as they were cut. The thick coppery tang of fresh blood spread through the throne room, but Voldemort thought nothing of it as he rose and began walking towards Harry. The last of the wizards finally moved, a few of them attempting and failing to apparate before they ran as Harry continued to cut around him almost blindly.

As the heavy doors thudded closed the Dark Lord spoke, softly, gently, letting his voice carry his concern and his love. He tried opening his mind to his beloved, but he could feel nothing but rage. "Harry?"

Even beneath the cowl that hid his features Voldemort could feel Harry's eyes burning and a pulse of almost pure power pushed him backwards as the Shadows around Harry came alive. It felt like the time at Ollivander's and at the thought of the wand maker, his ribs ached and he allowed himself to be pushed back. The Shadows spread through the throne room and in their wake the Serpent Lord recognised the forms of the Muggles. They were left, impossibly strung up, but most were not aware of their situation due to the Legilimency the Dark Lord had performed weeks back upon them. The four who were aware hissed in pain but showed no other reaction.

There was a final pulse of darkness and Voldemort was pushed back into his throne as the Muggles awoke. Silence reigned for just a moment before Harry screamed and flung his sword away with a clatter. He danced forward, his claws flashing as he slashed at the Muggles.

The Dark Lord had seen many examples of violence. He'd participated in more than a few, but there was a certain raw power in the way Harry moved, a viciousness that few could match. He wasn't thinking and his hood had fallen back. His teeth were bared and his eyes seemed to be glowing as he cut through the Muggles. Power flowed off him in waves and the Dark Lord was forced to raise a shield. It wasn't like Harry's coming of age ceremony; the power was more controlled this time, but it was strong and it didn't care particularly who it attacked just so long as it caused pain. Voldemort nodded in understanding as he caught that feeling. He understood that pain and knew that for the moment all he could do was wait.

Probably the most disturbing thing was the silence. Harry didn't voice his anger and the only sound was the pull of his claws through flesh and the blood as it splattered on the stone. The prisoners did scream out, but their voices were of no importance. Voldemort watched as Harry moved between the Muggles, spinning and turning even as he slashed around him and suddenly a smile graced the Dark Lord's face. Harry was beautiful! He was the most beautiful being Voldemort had ever seen and he settled back, trying to ignore the growing tightness in his groin, to watch the exquisite dance his mate was showing him.

Most of the wounds weren't that bad. Harry's claws were short, but every Muggle was sporting cuts and gashes all over their bodies and each had a small pool of blood forming beneath them. While it was hard to tell with the black robes Harry was wearing, it did not appear that a single drop of blood had landed on him. He spun and he danced and cut high and cut low and the throne room filled with the thick smell of blood.

Finally one of the Muggles gave an odd gurgle and Harry spun to a stop in front of the throne, breathing hard. Voldemort could feel that the anger had lessened. It had not abated. It would take more than this to rid his mate of such anger, but the Boy-Who-Lived was calmer now. Slowly Harry rose and turned to look at the Muggles. One or two had died, but he didn't seem to notice that and Voldemort was left to wonder at the mysterious smile that graced his mate's features.

Harry smiled as he breathed deeply. The scent of blood was most calming, but it still wasn't enough. These were the animals who had hurt him again and again and their suffering was not something he wanted to cut short. Even so, just slicing them up was too easy. But he remembered something that might be appropriate. He remembered the soul deep satisfaction he had felt after he had seen and taunted Heprah.

:Beloved,: Harry said silently and was warmed by the sheer welcome and the depth of love he felt in Voldemort's mind. Harry sent a few images to the Dark Lord and Harry's smile spread to Voldemort's lips as he saw his beloved's plan. Harry waved his hand and all the Muggles were turned to face the throne. Another wave of his hand and from the blood under each Muggle a thin blade formed. Each blade was ornate and curved and in other circumstances might be called decorative. Each one rose and settled itself against the throat of the muggle whose blood had formed the knife. A thin trail of blood formed a string that ran down the back of each muggle before looping between their legs and tying itself around the tips of each of their penises. The only muggle not to have a knife at her throat was Petunia but she was turned towards Vernon and Dudley and her eyes could see the intent behind her nephew's gesture.

Voldemort rose from his throne, shedding his outer robes as Harry simply stood and waited. There had to be a certain brutality in this and Harry didn't flinch when the Dark Lord transfigured the stone floor into a waist high bench and pushed him over it. A long fingered white hand grabbed at the neck of Harry's robes and the shadows pretended to tear when Voldemort ripped them away. :So beautiful,: he said privately, licking his lips.

Several of the muggles groaned as they realised what was about to happen.

As the Dark Lord exposed his beloved he flicked a finger in what probably looked like a caress but was really non-verbal wandless magic. It was a simple charm not spoken about or taught but one which was essential. Lubrication could be manually applied but magic was so much more convenient.

:It needs a warming component,: Harry complained and Voldemort was hard pressed not to laugh at his beloved.

:I'll add it next time,: he promised, even as he seemingly forced Harry's legs apart. Harry struggled a bit and one of Voldemort's long fingered hands grabbed his beloved wrists and pushed them into the bench above Harry's head. With his other hand he reached down and stroked himself to erection. The Muggles groaned and red eyes narrowed as he watched their reactions. Most were getting aroused but they were fighting it. If they got too erect the blood string around their cock would pull the blade across their throat. Harry did have a very refined sense of what was appropriate.

Without preamble and as slowly as he could to give Harry time to try to loosen himself, Voldemort pushed himself into his beloved. He sighed in deep satisfaction and made small movements to try to make it a bit more comfortable for Harry.

:It's okay,: Harry encouraged him. :It doesn't hurt.:

:Don't lie to me,: Voldemort chided though he knew this was Harry's will. He moved slowly, enjoying the tightness and warmth of his beloved.

:You'll have to say something,: Harry said, sharing the memory of Heprah with his beloved.

The Serpent Lord smiled and licked his lips again before he looked up at his audience. "Beautiful, isn't he?" he questioned the Muggles. "Young, pretty, lithe, and tight," He punctuated each virtue with a thrust of his hips. "Though he does require just the hint of force to discipline him to your will, but once he's bound, you have a lovely creature that's ready to obey your desires and pleasure you. And now," the Dark Lord smiled again, "he obeys me," he added plunging his full length into Harry's body.

It was too much for a couple of the muggles and their life blood sprayed over the others as the blood formed blades bit deep into their throats. Their erections faded as their bodies died and fell to the stone floor to lie discarded in their own blood and wastes.

Harry arched his back as much as he could, which drove his butt on to the Dark Lord's cock and he lifted his head, turning to face his beloved. Voldemort leaned over and the two of them shared a long leisurely kiss as Harry moved his ass through little circles.

"Harry, please," one of the Muggles begged.

Harry broke away from their lingering kiss and turned green eyes towards the speaker. "So good," he moaned almost theatrically, squeezing and moving himself watching as the Muggle gulped and hardened and frowned, sweat pouring down his face as he fought the sensation.

Voldemort licked along Harry's neck slowly before he lifted his body and grasped Harry's hips, holding him firmly and thrusting deeply. Harry arched backwards, his mouth open and gasping. "So good," he said again as the pain faded and he became accustomed to his lover's length and girth within him.

More of the Muggles hissed and groaned and a few more lost the battle against their arousal, pushed beyond their limits by the obvious pleasure both the Dark Lord and Harry were experiencing. Blood spurted and splashed on the stone, though neither Voldemort nor Harry paid any attention to the Muggle deaths. They were too lost in pleasure of each other. They had only been a few months apart, but it was a few months too long for both of them.

All too soon Voldemort felt himself tighten, his climax fast approaching. Harry's body was even sweeter than he remembered and as he felt himself cum he pulled Harry up to him, burying himself fully in the young body and taking his mouth forcefully. The pleasure was incredible and with each wave he plunged himself deeper into Harry.

At length the Dark Lord pulled out of Harry, replete and satisfied for the moment. Harry moved with him, turning in his arms to kiss him again before he drew back, another smiled on his face. It was Harry's turn to lick his lips as he turned back to the remaining Muggles. "So good," Harry said again, reiterating his praise of previously, green eyes sparkling and happy. Nakedness hardly mattered, but the Shadows were quick to form around their Master again and he flicked his eyes over the survivors. Voldemort took a few steps back to his throne where he settled in again to watch. With a half thought the stone bench disappeared.

Harry smiled at the Muggles and the Serpent Lord watched as he transformed slightly, emphasising his claws but not manifesting his wings. Harry flexed his fingers and Voldemort could see that his toes were scratching deep incisions into the stone floor. The Shadows moved the surviving Muggles, dropping them down to their knees in a line and the blades of blood splashed to the ground. Harry walked up to them, approaching the Dursleys' first. Almost gently he reached out and cupped Petunia's face, forcing her to look up at him.

"Not enough for you," He said softly and she vanished. Harry ignored the way that Dudley and Vernon cried out as she disappeared and he took another step down the line, this time reaching out towards his cousin. It was no surprise to him that Dudley was still alive. The boy had never been that aroused by sex, instead Dudley got his pleasure from seeing Harry beaten and he wasn't about to submit to being pounded in that fashion, not even for the enjoyment of watching his cousin fight what was for him a normal reaction. As he looked into Dudley's eyes, Harry murmured the same words he had said to Petunia. "Not enough for you," and as with his aunt, Dudley vanished and Harry stepped forward to the next in the line.

Harry reached out again, this time grasping at Vernon. The man was skin and bones and green eyes smiled as his claws cut thin lines under Vernon's chin. The older man squeezed his eyes shut. "Look at me Vernon," Harry ordered, his voice carrying a subtle compulsion. Almost unwillingly Vernon opened his eyes to look into Harry's green orbs. "It will never be enough for you," Harry whispered and Vernon too vanished. Harry stepped forward again and Voldemort vaguely recognised the man he knew had been the first, the one who had broached the idea to Vernon Dursley. Harry didn't bother to gently hold his face, but instead he slashed his claws down, opening deep gashes across the man's face but not killing. "And it will never be enough for you," he said finally and the man vanished.

That just left the other Muggles on their knees before Harry and the Dark Lord. Harry flexed his claws again and stepped to the closest. Voldemort watched as with deliberate slowness, his beloved reached out with razor sharp talons and ran two fingers from ear to ear of the Muggle. Blood sprayed out covering Harry, but he thought nothing of it as he stepped to the next one in the line and repeated the gesture. As Harry moved down the line of Muggles, cutting each throat, Voldemort noticed that instead of letting the bodies fall this time, the Shadows hoisted them up, letting them hang head down as the blood drained from them. There was no arcane value in Muggle blood so what were they playing at?

Finally Harry came to the end of the line of Muggles. His hands and arms were red, his hair was almost flat with the blood soaked into it, and rivulets ran down over his face and none of that had seemed to have bothered him until the last Muggle twitched in the Shadows' grip, his life force splashing on to the stone. When there was no one left to kill, Harry seemed to come back to himself with a start. The Dark Lord felt it when the anger dissipated as if it was never there and emerald eyes looked back down the line of Muggles, seeing their nakedness, seeing the gaping wounds on each throat and hearing the blood drip on to the floor.

A new wave of power pinned the Dark Lord to his throne and vanished the Muggle bodies, leaving only a seeming ocean of blood on the throne room floor. The Serpent Lord could do nothing but watch as his beloved fell to his hands and knees retching at the knowledge that he had killed. Harry's wings manifested, arching high and spreading above him but they were no longer the beautiful pure sparkling white that Voldemort remembered, they were instead deep jet ebony that seemed to suck the light out of the room. In all honestly, the Dark Lord couldn't say which he preferred. There was extreme beauty in both colours.

Harry continued retching, choking and crying, all unaware of his surroundings. Voldemort smiled, the expression odd given the situation before he rose and walked towards his mate, crooning low in his throat. Quick strides brought him to Harry's side and he reached out, not even bothering to mutter scourgify as he cleaned the blood off his beloved and vanished the vomit. Harry showed little response when long fingered white hands touched him and the Dark Lord began tracing small circles at that spot between Harry's wings that he knew made his mate feel so good. All the while he continued a soft wordless croon. As Harry's trembling faded Voldemort picked him up, finding out that wings weren't as easy as he thought to tuck into his arms to carry his beloved bridal fashion. He never stopped stroking Harry, though once he had his beloved in his arms, his gestures were limited to gentle caresses against black feathers and Harry's thigh. Emerald eyes clouded as Harry relaxed slightly.

"Shh, Harry," Voldemort said softly. "I told you, an eternity ago 'I will take you through the difficult times of the first few. I will lead you through such rites until you are whole.' And now that you are ready, I will give you your fill, but not now, not yet. Now you need to rest." He leaned down to kiss Harry's forehead before he apparated them out of the room to his personal chambers.

Later, the Death Eaters would return to the Throne Room to find it empty of everything save for a huge puddle of blood and an incoherent Sixth Year girl sitting in the edge of the puddle, staring up at an message on the wall that was smeared there.

"This is what it cost me."

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