Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Weapon	By : uqui Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Voldemort Views: 105435 -:- 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
- 82
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21/12/2012

BAFan – Thank you for the review. Sorry for the delay in the update. I’ve been rather busy lately but I hope you enjoy it.

Unneeded – thank you for the review. LOL the last chapter gave you review fodder? I think it’s more than the last chapter I had to have Harry do a catch up on what was happening. It was getting confusing! Yes you will get more from Severus soon… this chapter in fact.

Vampy and Draco know that there is something wrong, and they can work together. But you are forgetting Draco’s major weakness. :D If Madam Bones was running the Ministry,t hey wouldn’t be having these problems with Voldy. :d

Gideaon may survive his promotion. Remember Voldy is trying this new tactic – for wizards to rule, there have to be wizards. And frankly, if someone else can tell Voldy that, then Gideon will be right there, pushing them in front of his Lord. But Gideon had his own clashes of loyalty.

Hugs!

Miri Daray – Thank you for the review.

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

This chapter is not beta’d so please be gentle.

       Weapon LXXXIII So is this the truth?

       The first thing Snape noticed was that he was warm and lying on something soft. The next thing he noticed was the silence. It was total and almost seemed to make its own noise with a hum just under his conscious hearing. And oddly that is what convinced him that he wasn't still in the Dark Lord's tender care and he opened his eyes.

       It was his roof.

       That's not right, Snape thought as his eyes closed again. His limbs felt heavy and he recognised the lingering traces of the Cruciatus Curse in them. He'd either need a few specialised potions or more rest but why had the Shadows transported him back to his own house?

       :Because it's the best place,: their echoy voice whispered. :It will be under a Fidel charm shortly.:

       "Don't move," another voice cautioned and a damp cloth was applied to his forehead.

       Severus tried to nod and was immediately sorry that he did when his head began pounding. A vial that felt like one of his was held to his lips and he drank, recognising the pain killing potion before he slipped back under.

       When he awoke a second time, it was again to warmth and silence but this time his limbs felt different. The effects of the Cruciatus Curse were gone though he still felt weak.

       :There's some strengthening potions on your bedside table. Take them and get up,: the Shadow's instructed unnecessarily. Even if they hadn't suggested it, he fully intended to go to his personal stores and do just that.

       "So what happens now?" Snape asked as he took the first of the potions. They had been taken from his stocks and usually he'd complain but not this time.

       :You go have a bath and get dressed, and then give the secret of this location to one of our agents.:

       "Then what?" He resisted the urge to snort. The Shadow's answers were sometimes singularly unhelpful since all of that he could deduce for himself.

       :Then we want Wolfsbane in large amounts and a few other potions but you will have plenty of time to brew and experiment.:

       "The Werewolves will never agree to follow you," Snape said as he rose to his feet, wavering a little unsteadily.

       :Let us worry about that,: the Shadow's chided gently. :Do you want to meet him?:

       "Meet who?" There was hot bath already drawn for him and Severus stripped off the clammy clothing he had been wearing and slipped into the hot water with a grateful sigh.

       :Our Master.:

       The Potion Master took a deep breath as things came together for him. "I already know who that is and I presume he's playing both sides." The brat would be arrogant enough to try that.

       :No, one side is perfectly aware of what he is doing,: the Shadow's explained.

       "Ah," Snape said yet the rise in feeling he'd expected did not come and for the first time in years he realised he did not care. He genuinely did not care what was happening and he had no reason to care. Potter had made his own choices, and so he was old enough to make his own mistakes. And right now, the warmth of the water was seeping into his bones and that was feeling enough.

       :There is one thing you could do for us after you've cleaned up a little,: the hollow voice continued.

       "What do you need?"

       :We'd really appreciate it if you could write down every credential you've got as a Potion Master. Brag and boast, don't be shy on this.:

       "I've become a selling point," Severus grumbled.

       :Yes. Your skills are well known but let's show them off a bit and air out those awards you have accumulated.:

       "I don't actually have many you know," Snape said matter of factly.

       :Have many what?:

       "Qualifications. Dumbledore never let me and Voldemort didn't care so long as I was capable."

       :Hmm,: the Shadow's voice was soft as they considered. :We have something else for you to do then. Apply for accreditation with whoever will accept you.:

       Severus nodded. "That I can do."

       :Good,: the Shadows said before falling silent as Snape enjoyed the bath. It was one of those simple luxuries that so many did not appreciate but after coming so close to death it was one of those things he intended to enjoy.

       It was about twenty minutes later when the water was just turning cool and Severus was considering charming it to become hot again when the Shadow's spoke. :Get up and dry off, breakfast is ready and our agent has a few more things to do today.:

       The Potion Master sighed but acknowledged the point that it would be decadent to remain in the bath, no matter how nice it felt and he did as they bade, dressing with some relief in his normal robes and noticing that the heavy black robes that were his Death Eater Uniform were not present in his closet.

       It wasn't until he walked into his kitchen, taking in the plate of waiting food and seeing the other wizard sitting at the table, a mug of tea in their hands that Snape really knew what he had agreed to.

       "This wasn't my idea," the wizard snapped. "And definitely isn't what I thought I'd be doing, so eat your breakfast and after I get out of here we won't mention it again."

       Snape snorted as he sat down, silently agreeing with the assessment. "So you are to be the Secret keeper?" He asked as he began on the surprisingly well cooked breakfast.

       The wizard looked amused. "No one will ever expect it."

       "I've heard that before."

       "I know," regret lay heavy in the agreement. "But I'm not a rat."

       "True enough," Snape agreed, pulling a piece of parchment to him and a quill and he began to write out his qualifications as requested, ignoring the other man who watched him as he ate. He'd agreed to the Shadow's proposal but this was about as civil as he would ever be with the man who had been his bane in school and one he was now meant to trust with his location. It was best for all concerned that they did not speak. Unfortunately no one told Black. Thankfully the man was all business.

       "Groceries will be delivered once a week to the back of the house on a small section that won't be under protection. Potion ingredients will come at intervals and I or someone else will courier the Wolfsbane to wherever it is needed. If you leave it where the groceries are, we won't even need to see each other."

       "I think I can manage that," Snape said with as much grace as he could muster. "Though I'm to be trapped here?"

       :Somewhat,: the Shadows said. :The papers will be delivered and there will be errands but for the moment staying put is the safest option. Your former Lord would still very much like to play further.:

       "He's still got Lucius and I didn't like that v..." Snape feel silent as he realised he'd never told Fawkes about the Vampire that was standing at the Dark Lord's side.

       "Given that Fawkes betrayed you, it's a good thing that you didn't tell him everything," Sirius said with an almost gentle voice and after a moment the Potion Master was forced to agree. He'd told Fawkes enough, if the Fire Bird had of honoured their agreement then he could have felt that he betrayed the Order though how he was meant to do that in death Snape didn't know. The Order had betrayed him, he owed them nothing.

       "Just like you've not told him everything?" Snape forced himself to question with some of his usual vitriol.

       "He's never asked," Black grinned, his eyes shining. "And the real kicker is they've never asked Harry either."

       "Well, I can say, without being facetious, that I truly do not care."

       "True," Black conceded the point. "But you will come to find it as sickening as I do as the year goes on." And with that the man fell silent, letting the Potion Master eat his breakfast before they attended to the day's tasks.

       Xeoaph looked over his children. They had all recovered, physically at least, from the battles of the previous year. Most looked fit and healthy, lean and ready to fight but the real wounds were different. They were in the gaps still present in the ranks and those wounds would be decades in the healing. Even so, they would continue on this path, because it was the only way.

       He knew, every time he looked at the Potter childling, he knew that somehow the boy was a façade but he had never been able to catch the young wizard in the lie. And with Fawkes having a mental presence in the boy, nothing less than absolute proof would be sufficient. The elder vampire sighed. He would grant that the boy was a superlative actor, he had to be to be fooling the phoenix but that skill would mean nothing in the end. He would have the proof he required.

       For now though he had another ploy by the Shadows to attempt to counter. The problem was he wasn't sure if he could.

       When he'd been called with Dumbledore to the Ministry the other day he had thought nothing of it, until he'd seen the bodies. At first glance they appeared have been killed by a vampire. There were bite marks on their necks and very little blood remained in the body.

       "Father, what is it?" Jissa asked. She wasn't Ikhan but her desire to take Ikhan's place as his second was obvious. Thus far Xeoaph did not care so long as the job was done.

       "The Shadows are playing, and I am forced to wonder why I even wish to save most wizards," Xeoaph sighed.

       "What has happened?"

       "There have been deaths. Stupid low brow Wizards have been killed and the killer deliberately made it look like we killed them."

       "But we haven't!" the female vampire objected. "Your orders were strict Father and we have been obeying. No wizards have been bitten, not even those who would willingly give themselves to us."

       Now that was one reason Xeoaph wasn't sure Jissa could replace Ikhan. His former second in command would never have made such an obvious statement. "I am aware of this Jissa, the ignorant gossiping wizards are not.

       "The Minister knows, the Auror's know that the dead wizards were not killed by a vampire. They know it was the blood draining charm and a sharp knife that made it look like the work of one of us but they are not the wizarding public, and some idiot witch or wizard found the bodies and they've made the assumptions and are pointing the finger."

       "So have the Ministry publish the truth," Jissa shrugged.

       "My child, if only it was that simple. The wizarding sheep have just learned that the Ministry was lying to them for a great deal of time about the Dark Lord's return. They are unlikely to believe some disclaimer, no matter how true, that it was not a vampire who killed those wizards. Though we have convinced The Daily Prophet to publish the autopsy results and to run an editorial."

       "Father, why are you even worried?" Jissa asked suddenly. "Even if it was true, boo, hoo, hoo, some vampire ate some wizards. Surprise, surprise, that's what we do to food! What makes these ones so special that they care about them?"

       Xeoaph chuckled softly. "They don't. The Ministry admits these wizards were thugs, barely able to use magic. But," he snapped the word, "because they could hold a wand, suddenly they are sacrosanct."

       "So who did kill them?"

       "I don't know which agent, but I will bet that the Shadows did."

       "Why?"

       The elder vampire smiled over at his child, not sure if she was genuinely asking or if she was trying to lead his thoughts. Her expression was ingenious and almost innocent but there was a slight smile on her lips. Jissa already knew at least some of these answers but she was fishing for others, trying to help him formulate a plan. "To distract and discredit. We aren't the only one's playing both sides. The Shadow's may say it's rogue's serving the Dark Lord but I do not believe it. Their Master is fully aware of their duplicity and their Master is playing his own game. Whether he is truly on the Dark Lord's side, or on his own side, he is not the paragon of Light the weak minded fools expect and they will pay the price."

       "So bite him?" Jissa suggested with a smirk.

       Bite him, turn Harry Potter into a slave who's only thought was to obey his Vampire Master. It was a nice thought but Xeoaph knew the boy already had the strength of mind to resist and if he had truly taken of his blood, as had been insinuated in the Atrium, then he ran the risk of turning the boy, or at least making a Halfling. And a wizard Halfling with control over the Shadow's may not be able to kill them all, but would certainly be more than powerful enough to kill many before he was inevitably taken down. Still... it was a nice thought.

       "Unfortunately my child, that is not a viable option. The boy might be sly and cunning, he may rely on the Shadow's for his power but he is not weak. He'd fight."

       "All the more fun when he submits."

       "The Shadow's would also fight."

       "Yet we are the true Dark."

       "And the Ministry and Dumbledore would bitch."

       "Maybe later then?"

       "Oh, so you want him?" Xeoaph asked his child.

       "I admit Father, I would not object to coupling with such a pretty little wizard."

       "Do not become obsessed my child. He would just as soon as rip your heart out, than sleep with you. He claims Ikhan died by accident, by being too close to a defensive charm he was warned was being cast. I say that's a lie and Ikhan was murdered but for the moment, we need him and we need him trapped on the Light side because no matter how much I dislike the thought, he is the one destined to kill the Dark Lord."

       "Then Father, we need to at least attempt to have the wizards gain faith in us again. I don't like it but you are correct, the public good will of the wizarding sheep is for the moment something we need."

       "And that is the very reason the Shadow's killed those wizards. They mean nothing, they are nothing. They died merely to plant the seeds of doubt."

       "So we need to sow the seeds of hope," Jissa countered. "Or at least the seeds of reason."

       Ancient blue eyes blinked... "Say that again," Xeoaph whispered.

       "Or at least the seeds of reason?" Jissa said, making the sentence a question.

       "Or at least the seeds of reason," Xeoaph breathed with a smile. That was it! The Shadow's thrived on doubt and mistrust, on whispered words in the dark and insinuation. They never told the whole truth, relying on that little bit of the unknown to turn events in their favour. And that was why they were such masters of manipulation. He hated them but he was wise enough to give them credit where it was due. So what he had to do now went against the grain, went against the normal practice of vampires but to combat the Shadow's he had to do it.

       "My dear," he smiled at his child. "I think you just hit on something."

       "Father?"

       "You said it earlier, I instructed that we do not feed from wizards and we have not been, not even those who would voluntarily come to us. It's time to change that and it's time to make that public. We will call for volunteers, for those witches and wizards who are not scared to feed us in exchange for our services and we will be scrupulous. We will not kill, we will not hurt, and we will not control. We will let them see us, in an idolised way, let them have the pleasure rush from feeding and we will make it very clear that we do not feed from unwilling wizards, we do not kill.

       "It will take a little while but that public display will serve."

       "In more ways than one, Father," Jissa said, her eyes bright. "Even if we do not control now, we will remember the taste of control and those who might be suitable can be called and tested once the upstart darkness is driven back."

       "Indeed," Xeoaph replied. "Tell everyone there are no changes yet and to be careful when they feed, least some idiot wizard spot them but I will make the arrangements to get the wizarding sheep to feed us."

       Voldemort looked down at the Death Eater before him. They were babbling something about being attacked by the Shadow's but he wasn't entirely listening. There new werewolf Pack Leader had made no move to contact him. Not that he expected Remus Lupin to but that idiot Greyback had promised him the werewolves, and he had, rather stupidly it seemed, been counting them as his already.

       And then Greyback went and lost the most important battle of his life. Voldemort was not naïve enough to believe that defeat was impossible with the augmented healing he had granted the other werewolf, but he was surprised. Lupin was one of the few werewolves actually trained as a wizard and so while he may have been able to see the accelerated healing as an animal there should have been very little he could have done about it except die. The fact that he won, by all accounts taking Fenrir on in a one to one battle spoke very highly of his werewolf ability or at the very least, his hatred of his creator. He could not deny Remus the right to lead, but he could regret the fact that the werewolf was firmly on Dumbledore's side despite the failure to meet with the Minister.

       "What are you drivelling about?" the Dark Lord finally snarled, his wand levelled at the Death Eater who cowered before him. "You were defeated by some wizard who you claim was a Shadow agent?"

       "Yes, Master."

       "And you dare to show you face?"

       "Master?"

       "If it truly was a Shadow agent, then I'm surprised you aren't dead! And if it wasn't, you dare to come before me to tell me you were defeated?" The logic of his followers sometimes escaped him. Especially the lower tiers.

       "Why don't you let me deal with him?" Kisha's seductive voice whispered and the Dark Lord was so fed up he merely flicked one white hand in agreement.

       "Master, no please!" The man cried as the elder vampire glided towards him.

       Voldemort just closed his eyes. Was the wizard such an idiot? The only reply he would get from him was the Crucio curse for his failure and they knew that. So why did they call out for mercy? He would gladly torture the wizard. Cries wrung from the lips of those who were lost were highly arousing but since his bed was cold and empty, there was little point in arousal. Finishing himself was hollow and the Dark Lord would wait until his mate once again slept there so he could plunge into Harry's inviting warmth, revel in the tight heat as he came. Then arousal would be called for.

       There was a choked scream and the sound of a futile struggle that Voldemort assumed was Kisha subduing the wizard but it was a third voice that caught his attention.

       "Well, there is a certain irony in this."

       Red eyes snapped open and the Dark Lord took in the scene all at once. Kisha had her fangs sunk deep into the throat of the Death Eater and the man was staring blankly at the far wall. He was bent back, his legs under him but giving no support and it was the elder vampires' strength that was keeping him up. The Shadow's servant was on the other side a good five metres away from Kisha, leaning against one of the pillars in the room, his black eyes showing sardonic amusement.

       "And here I came to apologise for attacking him," the Shadow servant continued, gesturing to the Death Eater.

       Voldemort heard the lie and he could tell Kisha did as well but the lie was intriguing. The Shadow's would never apologise for attacking but they had attacked the Death Eater.

       "Kisha, it's so good to see you again."

       "As it is you," the elder vampire replied, letting the Death Eater's body drop as she wiped the blood from her mouth. "I was afraid I hurt you."

       "Oh no no, never fear," the man laughed. "I am sorry I had to dash though. Pressing appointments elsewhere, you understand."

       "Think nothing of it."

       "I don't."

       The Dark Lord watched the by-play reading the truth. So Kisha and this Shadow Servant had had a little run in with each other, one that the Elder Vampire had won which was not that surprising. No one had accused her of being weak but the Shadow Servant still stood there, secure in his power.

       "You owe me a second date," Kisha purred and somehow the Shadow Servant looked repentant.

       "For a woman as divine as you, I am honoured that you would grant me the pleasure of a second date. I'll clear my schedule some time."

       "I'll look forward to it."

       "So will I."

       "Will your master allow it?"

       The Dark Lord looked at the Shadow Servant intently. Their answer would be telling.

       The man chuckled. "My dear, I have very strict instructions regarding the Shadow Lord but they can be summarised in two words; 'Stay away'. And that is exactly what I do. You might consider it onerous to be in thrall to the Shadows but I get a great deal of enjoyment from it, enjoyment I wouldn't get by being a slave to the Light's Golden Child."

       "Imagine how much more fun you would have with me?"

       "Tempting my dear, but I'm not suited for the guise of eternity."

       "Ah-hem!" Voldemort broke in. Their jabs were amusing but there had to be some reason the Shadow's had sent their servant.

       "Ah yes," the Shadow Servant said brightly, "Why am I here?" He questioned, his voice almost laughing.

       "Yes, why are you here?" Kisha asked, her purple eyes narrowing as she assessed the distance.

       The man was masked but the Dark Lord saw the grin he flashed the elder vampire. "With the Veela about to announce their allegiance to the Ministry, and the werewolves being... somewhat intractable shall we say, I thought to offer my services during the forthcoming assault."

       "The vast majority of the werewolves will follow me," Voldemort said confidently.

       "No, they won't," the Shadow Servant objected, his voice firm. "And if you attack Remus, even fewer will come to you. Regardless of how you feel the fight should have turned out, or what an individual werewolf might think, Remus Lupin won the battle. That makes him the strongest werewolf on the Isles and for those who think like a pack, that makes him the Leader of the Pack. And a pack follows its leader, where they lead, not where the individual wishes to go."

       "You speak like one who knows."

       "I'm not a werewolf, if that's what you are trying to insinuate my dear. But I do know the thoughts of a pack and for now, the Dark Lord is best leaving the werewolves be and extending a generous hand to those who do follow him, in the hopes of enticing others."

       Voldemort took a deep breath. He was getting the feeling that something else was going on with the Werewolves, that there was another game at play here but he could not work out what. "What will your services cost me?"

       "I'm pretty cheap this time. All we want..."

       "We?" Kisha snorted.

       "My dear, you already know I represent the Shadows who work with the Dark Lord. I'm a part of them so yes, their desire is my desire."

       "What do you want?" Voldemort asked again.

       The man took a deep breath before he spoke in a clipped tone, "The assurance that you will not kill the Shadow Lord in this battle."

       "What!?" The objection came from the elder vampire while the Dark Lord hid his smile.

       Black eyes looked over at her, their gaze hard and unyielding. "I may stay away from the Shadow Lord because I do not wish to be subject to his demands, but I will defend him with my life if it is necessary."

       "Yet you dare to claim you are independent?"

       "I am! The Shadows I work for are independent of the Shadow Lord, yet they also realise they need him to exist somewhere. So make no mistake vampire, to strike at the Shadow Lord you will have to go through me."

       "That's not a problem," Kisha purred, flexing her fingers into claws.

       "Enough!" The Dark Lord couldn't avoid feeling like he was some teacher, breaking an argument up in the classroom. "The two of you may fight elsewhere," he snapped before fixing red eyes on the Shadow Servant. "You do not wish me to kill the one being who is supposed to be my doom?"

       The man was silent for a moment. "In this battle," he elaborated, his voice sure and the Dark Lord was impressed. He would never kill his beloved, and the Shadow Servant knew it and no true slave of the Shadows could do other than protect the Shadow Lord but the man before him seemed completely at ease with the thought of the Shadow Lord's demise, just so long as it did not happen this time.

       "You drive a very hard bargain," Voldemort murmured. "I had hoped to catch them unawares and to kill the boy before he was truly ready."

       "They already know you are going to attack," the Shadow Servant shrugged, as if the information was common knowledge. "Some idiot told Severus and he blabbed to the Phoenix."

       "You are remarkably well informed."

       "It's my job to be informed. So... Do you accept?"

       Voldemort sighed theatrically. "I recall I did tell Dumbledore that I would enjoy breaking the boy to my will before I killed him," he murmured. "You had better be worth the price."

       "For the way this battle is likely to go, I'm cheap," the Shadow Servant shrugged.

       Kisha was shaking her head though she was wise enough to remain silent. Her conclusions were obvious but still unproven and if the Vampires were that sure of the alliance between the Shadow Lord and the Serpent Lord then there was only one path they could take. But they appeared to be content to wait.

       The Shadow Servant turned to the elder vampire. "My dear, I beg your forgiveness, as much as I would love to bask in your glory, I must dash again. A thrall's work is never done."

       "You are no more thrall that I am," purple eyes burned but she made no move towards the man.

       "True," he said deprecatingly, the smile in his voice. "Imagine how much fun you could have if you were like me?" he echoed her earlier words.

       The elder vampire was startled for an instant before she nodded gracefully. "Tempting, but I'm not suited for the guise of submission."

       The way the man looked her over was nothing short of scandalous and his black eyes glowed, "I'm almost positive we could work something out," he said in an arch voice before he bowed towards the Dark Lord and turned away, heading towards the door.

       Voldemort chuckled when he felt his coil of surprise at the movement. He was so used to the Shadow's and the Shadow Servants appearing where they wanted, when they wanted, no matter what wards he had up that he was almost disappointed to see the man calmly walk to the door and slip through it.

       "And so now you see," Kisha whispered, turning towards the Dark Lord, "the Shadows will never let you have ultimate victory."

       The red eyed wizard shrugged, dismissing her words. "The Shadows have always made it clear to me that their so called Lord must live," he stated easily. "But they never specified how much life he had to have," the Dark Lord added with a raised eyebrow that spoke volumes.

       "Crucio?"

       "For a while, but the outcome is not certain on that, so if he does not submit to me as a good little catamite then a medical charm is more certain and on this, I want certainty."

       Kisha created a little illusion and walked around the projected image of Harry Potter, examining him closely. "He's handsome," she said before looking deep into the green eyes. "But he has spirit."

       Voldemort smiled, and waved one hand to dismiss the image. "If he did not have spirit breaking him would be no fun and I anticipate a great deal of pleasure to look down and see him willingly wrap those pretty little lips around me, and to later hear him beg to be ridden."

       Purple eyes blinked, as if Kisha realised for the first time his desire towards the Boy-Who-Lived before she shook black hair back over one shoulder. "I suppose it does not matter," she murmured, moving towards the door as well. "I want the Shadow's put in their proper place and if the one who commands them is the pathic of the Dark Lord, I suppose that is place enough for them."

       She looked back towards him. "Good day my Lord," Kisha added when she reached the door, her eyes ageless. "Thank you for the meal." She made a vague gesture towards the forgotten body of the Death Eater that was sprawled on the stone, blood sluggishly dripping from the gaping wound on his neck to freeze with the rest of the blood that was forming the floor of the throne room.

       "Good day, my Lady Kisha," Voldemort said with a formal nod. "We will discuss plans further anon."

       "We will," the elder vampire's voice echoed from the corridor before the doors closed and Voldemort was left alone in his Throne Room, his red eyes hooded as he thought of Harry.

       Review please. :D
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