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
- 76
- 77
- 78
27/07/2012

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

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

Weapon LXXVII Recruit Everything

Sirius had always been fascinated about the duality of time. It always moved at the same rate but sometimes he seemed to rush through everything and at other times it dragged as if the chains of hell weighed it down. He wondered what today would bring. After he'd apparated away from the Vampire Elder, he'd holed up for a few days to rest and then had sought out the Welsh Dragon Handlers.

The Welsh Green Dragon's weren't particularly big or known for their aggression but their preserves were controlled by the Ministry so they would be the fastest Dragons to bring to a battle. The Romanian Government could be approached after it was shown that the idea was useable and didn't result in the deaths of dragons. If any were killed, and Sirius was not so naive as to believe that none would die, then the handlers would give everyone hell... But they, the dragons, were the one thing no one had yet considered. Sirius knew the eventual outcome of the war but he could not afford to be considered anything but the staunch supporter of the Light.

:You are a staunch supporter of the Light,: the shadows whispered cheekily.

The canine animgus snorted. It was true, but he doubted people would see it that way.

"So, what does a naïf like you want?" The gravelly voice broke into his reverie. It was not friendly and in an instant Sirius read the man's leathery face. They didn't see many people on the Dragon Preserve and those they did could be broken into specific groups. Muggleborns and Halfbloods looking for work in the Wizarding world and who could find nothing else, a few usually poorer pure blood wizards who genuinely loved dragons and wanted to work with them, some cheapskate tourists and occasionally a Ministry official. As the Head of the Ancient and Noble House of Black, he was out of place. Badly out of place here and the wizard's voice screamed of his suspicion. Diplomacy called for, especially if he wanted to get the Dragons into combat with the Handler's not specifically targeting him.

Sirius smiled, trying to appear friendly. "I wanted to discuss an idea with you, before I took it to the Ministry."

"And what crack pot scheme has your lordship come up with now?"

Oh, there was history in that sentence and Sirius wondered if someone else had suggested using dragons in combat before him. "By now, I'm sure the Ministry has informed you, we are at war."

"Aye, they did, not that it matters much to us. Our charges don't care about such grand things as who's the Minister."

"Sounds so much simpler," the Head of the House of Black laughed, a short bark but it showed true amusement and for a moment the Dragon Handler was offended, then he registered the words and a ghost of a smile traced its way over his lips.

"So what do you want?"

"Unfortunately, it's about the war. A lot of it will be subterfuge and small strikes by dedicated forces, but there will be at least some battles, where every wand will count."

"So you want us handlers to come?" The man seemed rather skeptical.

"Are you going to tell me that anyone in the wizarding world can cast stronger stunners than Dragon Handlers?"

The man laughed. "That's true... But that's not really what you want, is it, my lordship?" The sarcasm was back in force.

"No, it's not. In those battles where every wand will count, so too will every creature, every power that can fight..."

"No!"

"No, what?"

"No!" The man began hyperventilating. "You want to use the dragons to fight your petty wars."

"I don't want the dragons to fight in any wars, because I don't want any wars but I can't hide from reality. And your charges may be what make the difference."

"No!"

"Do you really think the Dark Lord will continue the arrangement as the Ministry does? What do you think Dark Lord's use dragons for?" Sirius felt slightly bad wording the question as he did. He was fairly sure that the Serpent Lord would probably continue to preserve Dragons and other magical creatures. He was against Muggles, not magical creatures, but there was also no doubt that he would most likely increase experimentation in some areas, and that would include dragons. Even Sirius could remember his potion class and Slughorn's complaint that so many potions could be made better with Dragon parts but they were so infernally rare that they were almost never used.

"So you want us to throw our lot in and guarantee our charges die."

"I want you to realise that if this war goes badly, then nothing will be the same. I want you to realise that unless everyone and everything works together, then we are all lost. The Dragon's may make a different, they may not, but I will be dammed if we lose this war because we were afraid to try everything we could."

"But to use our dragons..."

Sirius growled. The man was what he had expected. So over protective of the beasts that he didn't, couldn't, see the opportunity they represented. The Dragon Handler reminded him a bit of Hagrid. So protective, that he could not believe that a dragon could be dangerous to others. But he had to see the truth, and he had to know they were desperate. "Keep in mind I'm doing this as a formality. Even if you don't agree, I will be bringing this up with the Ministry and I can practically guarantee you, they will be willing to try, no matter what objections you raise."

"You bastard!"

"I've been called worse." Sirius didn't care, but he was careful to watch that the handler wasn't about to launch a jinx at him. The last thing he needed now was to get into a duel.

"You Lord types are all the same. You get an idea, you push it and support it, but the moment it gets difficult you jump ship."

"Is that what you think?"

"That's what I know."

Sirius narrowed his eyes slightly, assessing the Dragon Handler. "My name is Sirius Black, the Head of the Ancient and Noble House of Black," he began the introduction formally. "I am the only man to have ever escaped Azkaban and I have now taken up arms in this war and let me assure you, sooner or later, all wizards and witches are going to have to make a choice. This war is not going to be like the others where people can sit on the side lines. Everyone will have to make a choice and everyone will have to believe in their choice. That is how this war will be. Even you, who have never been involved, will have to fight and you can come either by your own volition, or kicking and screaming when you are ordered.

"This is not about anything else except giving us the best opportunity to fight this war."

"And what makes you think they can do anything?"

"Your charges are big, strong, and magically resistant. They won't be slaughtered, because they can't be slaughtered. I won't lie and say that it's not a possibility; we both know there are charms that can hurt and even kill dragons but also know that they take a ridiculous amount of power. It won't be easy to have them in combat, I don't know exactly how to control them, but you and your handlers do. No one is expecting a dragon to follow orders, but they don't need to follow orders to destroy the dark forces.

"Like it or not, they will make a difference."

The man seemed to consider his words and Sirius could almost feel the losing battle in the man's mind. The dragon handlers may be remotely located, and they may not have the slightest interest in politics, but they knew how the war was going and they knew what the defeat of the Ministry would bring. In the end, they, like him, really had no choice.

"Get out!" The order was sharp and the canine animagus was shocked at the depth of pain in the Dragon Handler's voice.

Sirius bowed his head slightly. "I thank you for the consideration," he said as he let himself out of the little shelter and apparated. There was little need for him to rub salt into the man's wounds. The Dragon Handlers wouldn't appear immediately in battle, but they would be there. They knew what was at stake and they knew now, what their choices were. Some might want to remain, but the rest were good men and women, they would do the right thing. They would take their precious charges into combat. They would give the dragons the taste of human flesh, and they would allow the Dark Forces to kill some dragons, because they, like all others had to fight.

And most likely, none of them would ever forgive him.

Narcissa had to remind herself that she really couldn't curse the man in front of her... Except he wasn't a man. He was a beast, not worthy of the term human and in normal times, even if she'd killed him, there wouldn't have been consequences. But she, more than most, was aware of how abnormal these times were. She was already under watch by the Aurors who had no doubt seen this animal enter the manor. They would need to see him leave.

"Look, I don't know what you want, but you have nothing you can offer my kind."

"I doubt that."

"And what would you offer us? What can you offer us? Acceptance by the Ministry? You know as well I as I do, that that isn't going to happen. Money, wolfsbane potion? Sure, we'd like the money but I doubt we'd take a potion from you since you aren't a Potion Master."

"Enough! If you are so sure I can't offer you anything," Narcissa began with a toss of her hair over one shoulder, "What do you want then? I find it so much easier if I don't assume and you tell me."

"What do we want?" The werewolf was hard pressed not to snort in disgust. He wasn't sure what the Malfoy bitch had wanted when she'd asked via a rather roundabout route to speak to a werewolf but they should have known that she, like everyone else, needed someone to fight for them. And she wasn't even as tactful as the other offers. The Dark Lord had made his usual offer, the Ministry hadn't bothered but anyone who was astute from the Werewolves knew how to take up what they could give you and then there had been that third offer that seemed to be able to encompass everything. While he hadn't spoken to anyone representing that third offer, he knew that quite a few of the Pack Leaders had, and they believed it to be genuine, even if rather confusing. Despite that though, that offer had been made with respect, and several gestures of goodwill. Fighting for them might not be too bad. It would definitely be better than fighting for some stuck up rich bitch who would expect the world and blame them for everything that went wrong. He decided to tell her exactly what the werewolves wanted. "We want nothing! We demand equality from the Ministry. We demand the right to be treated as human, to learn to use our Magic. We demand to be treated with respect.

"We don't want wolfsbane potion. We don't want money, we don't want anything like that. We don't need that. We need the rest."

Naricssa sat back, once again running through a litany in her mind. The sheer arrogance of the animal was astounding. She could remember something similar once when she was at a Death Eater. The results had been satisfactorily messy as the Dark Lord did not tolerate such arrogance well. "Get out," she said finally.

The beast didn't even bother to salute as it let itself out.

For long moments, the halfling focused merely on breathing as she sought to calm herself down. So the werewolves wouldn't follow her. She should have known that they would already have given their allegiance to someone. Even if they hadn't, realistically she had nothing special to offer. The Dark Lord could offer victims, new sacrifices to turn into werewolves, the Ministry merely had to say they would enforce their laws and between those two that would account for ninety five percent of the werewolves. The other five probably just wanted to be left alone. So in the end, she had nothing really. Being surprised, being insulted by this would not change anything.

What was surprising was the general lack of respect she could feel. The Malfoys were amongst the oldest and most powerful of the wizarding Houses. Regardless of anything else, they were usually given at least a modicum of respect. Maybe this is what Draco meant. She had known he wasn't finding it as easy as he should have to gather his House to his side. The usual respect they held for power and for those of ability seemed to be missing. It just made her previous thoughts that they may have to strike differently all the more true.

He'd written several times this year, and each time she'd written back with words of advice and comfort. This last time, she hadn't bothered with any comforting note, but wrapped and sent back a book as quickly as she could. His letter this time had been weird, but she had read between the lines. He had finally realised that he was under some sort of memory charm and needed further information on how to remove it. It should be simple enough, even if a bit painful so she wasn't concerned.

What she needed to do now was think. The werewolves were definitely out. The vampires were already fighting... There were not that many non-human groups who were not already involved. The United Kingdom had a small population of Veela but not enough to make that much of a difference. The merpeople would remain in their own domain and the Dark Lord had already taken control of the Dementors. Witches and Wizards were split between Ministry and the Dark Forces and those who had felt some sympathy to her cause had been used by her husband. The Tenshi probably didn't even know or care that there was a war going on, and the rest of Europe was doing their best to ignore them. No, that wasn't right. The rest of Europe was very interested in their war to the point they had patrols and guards to ensure that no one launched strikes into their territory. There was some support there, but it was mostly Ministry to Ministry.

And that left a third party such as herself where she always thought they were. Alone. Gathering support was going to be too slow. By the time they had sufficient support to be able to attack openly, the Dark Lord would have already toppled the Ministry. She was going to have to strike in private, and leave the Ministry wondering how or who destroyed the Lord they had been unable to defeat.

Harry sat in Dumbledore's office. For the past few days, things had been quiet. There hadn't been any attacks by Death Eaters, which usually meant they were planning something big. Whatever it was he would be ready but he wasn't sure why he had been called to the Headmaster's office today. Fawkes had remained on his perch but seemed fretful. That more than anything said that something was wrong. Usually the fire bird was calm and composed and wanted him to stroke the red plumage. Harry had finally worked out why the bird sought him out, and it wasn't because of his affinity for Light. Contact made for a far less intrusive mind scan. The fact that Fawkes was not demanding cuddles today either meant he was still angry about Halloween and the supposed shadow attack or the Phoenix was beginning to trust him. The black haired young man hoped it was the later.

He waited while the Headmaster pottered around for a few minutes more before eventually settling in his desk. "Lemon drop?" the offer was almost perfunctory. He declined anyway and continued waiting.

"Well, my lad, how are things?"

"Very good," Harry replied honestly. Since Halloween things had been better. He felt more relaxed and the few missions Auror Captain Sturges had called him on had gone well. The Auror had not used his abilities as completely as that first time but had instead had him work with his men and women, learning how the Aurors usually worked. As the missions were mostly clean up in the wake of an attack, there was little risk to anyone. The thought was that the Dark Lord had determined that they had been able to track him at Diagon Alley and he had responded in an unfortunately logical manner, by increasing the speed and viciousness of his attacks, though their patterns were still random. Unless they could anticipate an attack, then they would be on clean up for a while yet.

It did not do much for the Auror's already fatigued morale.

"That's very good to hear."

The Shadow Lord resisted the urge to roll his eyes. All of this was information Dumbledore already knew. They had, after all, kept up their weekly meetings and Harry had discussed all sorts of things with the Headmaster this year; plans for destroying the Dark Lord, how his Mastery studies were going, how he was to work with the Aurors and the Order, hedged questioning on his mental state and his relationship with Ginny and his friends and how the shadows worked. The Headmaster had also begun to show Harry some memories of a young Tom Riddle and Harry was amazed at how little understanding the old wizard had. Could the old man not see the pain? Did he not care? Always afterwards Harry had shaken his head, astounded at the lack of foresight and compassion in the supposed 'Leader of the Light'.

"I called you here early because something has happened."

"Oh?"

"One of the Order has gone missing."

"Professor Snape," Harry said with certainty.

"How did you know?"

He smiled and wondered if he was meant to hear the suspicion in the ancient wizard's voice. Probably not, Harry decided, since Dumbledore's expression showed nothing but grandfatherly concern. He was, if nothing else, a superlative actor, just that Harry was better. Growing up as he had, he had had to be. "Sir, my lesson in sword fighting was last night," Harry said gently. "Professor Snape was not there, and a few inquiries showed that he hasn't been teaching the last few days, so it's not a difficult assumption to make."

Beneath the twinkling eyes, the suspicion faded as the Headmaster realised that the simple explanation was the truth. "This wasn't planned," Dumbledore said finally. "When Professor Snape leaves for business, I allow a few days in case Tom has any long term plans. That time is up, and Severus has yet to notify me. I am concerned that he underestimated the danger he was in and has been captured."

Harry just nodded at the words.

"You have been blocking the Dark Lord Harry and I commend you for that, but I find myself having to ask if there has been any leakage of happiness from him?"

Harry shook his head. "No, but I've been blocking the link extensively." Once it became clear that all Lord Voldemort's knowledge had been within his mind, Harry had stopped holding back and had begun using what he could and that included having to skip all the tedious lessons on Occlumency with Snape. He had paid specific attention to the link to the Dark Lord and had made sure that Fawkes knew he was building particularly thick walls around it. The phoenix, and therefore Dumbledore, thought it was to avoid having Voldemort spy on him and so that the Dark Lord's happiness did not cause him pain. They didn't even dream it was so that he could keep a lid on his hormones, that if he was in constant contact with his beloved, their entire plan would be for nothing. After a moment of silence, green eyes looked up into the blue eyes of the Headmaster. "I can take some of the shielding off and peek," he offered. It was the type of thing he'd be expected to do.

Fawkes trilled at him and Harry smiled. The song of the fire bird was beautiful when he wished it and Harry waited for Dumbledore to reply.

Eventually the old wizard sighed. "I think that would be best."

"Okay, give me a moment," Harry said, squirming slightly as he settled himself more comfortably. An Occlumency master would have just removed the shielding and while he was capable of that, he was trying to show that he was still adjusting. He was trying to show that he could use the information but that it was not so much a part of him that he did it without thought. Green eyes closed as Harry sent himself into a light trance and fell through the layers of his mind. He felt Fawkes with him, the fire bird riding on his mental shoulder as he descended into the part of his mind where he kept memories he wasn't fond of. It was where he had stashed the mental manifestation of his link to the Dark Lord, though Harry was working on a new place for it, somewhere much nicer, it could not yet be revealed. Around him, in trunks and chests that were covered in defensive runes were memories he didn't look at, his childhood, all the men, Millicent and Blaise and a few others. It said a lot about his life that he had more than one area like this, the memories firstly ringed with defensive runes, some wrapped deep in other memories and the entire area was surrounded by his magic for light, warmth and comfort. And these were just the memories the Fire Bird was allowed to see, memories that the Fire Bird knew existed. He had other places, wrapped behind the curtain of darkness where his true self resided where he kept the memories of his beloved, of the feeling of his claws cutting into the muggles and of how it felt to watch them die. Xaos was hidden there, closely guarding quite a few memories and the knowledge that he was loved absolutely. When this year was up, Harry fully intended to shift his mental landscape around so that each memory of the muggle paedophiles would be paired with the memory of their death and with the feeling of his own satisfaction and the Dark Lord's approval. Unknowingly Harry smiled. That made for a nice thought, though he did wonder idly, how much more crowded his mental landscape could get.

Carefully he exposed the mental manifestation of his link to the Dark Lord and he brought it to the surface of his mind. Fawkes watched the entire time, never moving from his spot as Harry unravelled the defensive runes before he unfastened the mental buckles on the leather straps that held the chest closed. The chest was not locked. He'd been warned about that and knew better than to completely lock away memories. They came back later at the most inconvenient time, but securing them was allowed, hence the travelling straps on the trunk. He glanced towards Fawkes and the fire bird nodded before Harry slowly lifted the lid.

For a moment nothing happened, then with a burst of light Harry found himself looking at unfamiliar surroundings. He was looking down into a large room. There were stone columns lining it and the floor was red and appeared smooth. It was cold and lying very still on the floor was a familiar man in tattered robes. His body was lying on his back, his head titled back to provide the Dark Lord with eye contact. The Lord Voldemort was engrossed in the task at hand and his concentration was impressive. Harry could see a few Death Eater's but they were acting as guards and he knew there was a Dementor to the Dark Lord's left. His vision wasn't quite right though. Everything living was surrounded by a nimbus and things that weren't were dull. The Shadows up in the rafters were a bottomless black but they were outlined in the thinnest line of pure white and with a small start, Harry realised this is how his beloved saw everything. His eyes, much like the rest of him, were no longer completely human.

Despite the shock he did nothing to give himself away, Harry was sure of that, but in the Dark Lord's mind something changed. Fawkes squawked and Harry sensed the fire bird retreating, before a wave of happiness washed over them both. In Dumbledore's office, Harry felt his hands instinctively press over his scar and Fawkes' retreat was halted.

The Dark Lord definitely had Snape and he was incredibly happy about it but under the happiness, Harry could sense something else, a deeper contentment. He caught the image of Hogwarts but it was not quite as he knew it and it took Harry a moment to realise what was wrong. There were no students on the battlements, but Death Eaters. It didn't feel like a wish, it felt like a plan and the implication was obvious. The Dark Lord was going to attack Hogwarts and he fully expected to win.

:I think you've seen enough,: there came a chiding voice that echoed around him and with a feeling that was like a kick in the guts Harry found himself and his passenger forcibly removed from the Dark Lord's mind. The link between them slammed closed and dimly Harry could feel the Lord Voldemort reinforcing his side.

Green eyes snapped open and Harry gasped as he came back to himself. Fawkes trilled though his voice was tinged with pain. After a few more desperate breaths, Harry looked over towards Dumbledore where the old wizard sat and watched. "He's definitely got Professor Snape," Harry said, wheezing slightly and showing a rare moment of respect for the Potion Master. "But," the black haired boy continued, gulping as he tried to calm down. "It also looks like he plans to attack Hogwarts... soon. I don't know when but there was snow on the ground." He remembered how beautiful Hogwarts had looked, draped in the soft velvet of winters embrace.

The Headmaster nodded and turned towards his familiar. Something seemed to pass between them before twinkling blue eyes looked back towards their weapon.

"Thank you Harry. Are your Occlumency shields back in place?"

"Yes," he said with certainty. Almost in the instant Voldemort had thrown him out of his mind, Harry had been putting his shields back in place. The brief touch was enough to throw his senses into disarray and there was a burning need coiling, building in his abdomen. He wouldn't be returning to the Dormitory tonight.

"Then thank you for your service. I'll let you know what happens with Professor Snape," the ancient wizard spoke in clear dismissal and Harry nodded as he rose. He already had a fair idea what would be happening; nothing. There was very little they could do to help the Potion Master, which is exactly what the Shadow's had wanted.

Severus would join them soon and that was just the beginning. Harry smiled, looking back over his shoulder. It was only a matter of time now.

Harry let himself out of Headmaster's office and quickly headed towards the room he had been assigned. Fawkes was occupied, which was just as well, because the brief touch of Voldemort's mind to his had sent his senses and his hormones into over drive.

He needed the Dark Lord, but he wasn't about to get him, not tonight and unlike other nights where he could control his need, where his need came from his own desire, this time it was because of their intimate contact. Dumbledore had no idea what he had asked Harry to do, no idea of the consequences, though truth be told, neither had Harry.

With no one to witness his spell casting Harry didn't bother to draw the yew wand as he sealed the room, casting more than a usual gamut of privacy charms with one hand while his other went for his wand. He threw himself into the chair as he rubbed himself through his robes. Already he was uncomfortably tight and quickly he unbuckled his pants, pushing them down and scooping one hand into his underwear to draw out his shaft.

Harry groaned as he caressed himself, using one hand to cup and kneed his balls while his other stroked up and down. He rubbed one thumb over the head of his cock on each upward stroke. Five seconds of contact with his Beloved, when they couldn't even express their affection had caused this. He suppressed an almost agonised moan at the thought of what being able to immerse himself in the Dark Lord's mind would do to him.

He thrust his hips through little motions and Harry threw his head back, licking his lips as he thought of his lover. His hands were warm but it was not the same. This would give him release, but it was only physical release. It did nothing for his emotional desire. Still physical release was all he could have now. He closed his eyes, imagining red burning eyes upon him and a long fingered white hand pinching his nipples. One of his own hands raised, sliding its way under his shirt to tweak his nipples, first one then the other, making them hard with blood. He breathed deeply, clenching his teeth as the tightness in his body grew. His skin was on fire and Harry didn't even feel his claws grow as he shredded his garments. He kept one hand on his cock, paying particular attention to the head. He ran his fingers all over it, stroking, teasing, tracing over the bulb before he raised his hand to his mouth, tasting his pre-cum.

It felt good but it was nothing. He was tight and hot but it was nothing like the sensation he got when he lay with his beloved. This was a pale shadow and Harry's top teeth gripped his lip, digging in but not drawing blood as both hands stroked his erection. It was a pleasurable friction and built on his desire. He imagined red eyes burning with lust, white skin flush and patterned like a serpent's. He imagined the taste on his tongue and he felt and indulged in his sheer raw desire.

He stroked faster and faster, and with each upward stroke he ran gentle finger tips over the head and with each downward motion he ran one hand over his balls, rubbing them together, pushing them up against his straining cock. He began gasping, seeking release but something held him back. He was hot and he felt tense, the pleasure in his groin spreading through his body, tingling, making him feel alive. He needed this but he needed his beloved and as Harry came he screamed the name of his desire. "Voldemort!"

He came, the long jets of cum pouring from him, splattering on to his chest, over his hands and into the air to land on his legs and the chair and the floor. The mindless desire in him broke, the need faded to manageable levels leaving him gasping in the glow of his release. After a moment Harry shifted, waving his hands to clean up as he got to his feet breathing deeply to bring his heart beat under control. He forced his fingers to go back to normal and flexed them. He was becoming so used to his animagus form that sometimes he almost didn't feel right without claws.

He closed green eyes, turning his face to the ceiling. Five seconds in his beloved's mind reduced him to a quivering mass of desire, of need and his release, while sweet was hollow. It was nothing like the mind blowing, soul comforting release he felt when he slept with his Beloved and Harry wondered, what would five days, five months, five years of returned desire, returned need do for him? What would it do for his lust, his love...

Harry smiled. He was very much going to enjoy finding out.

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