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In the Darkness in Which We Are Made	By : corvusdraconis Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 24665 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 8
Disclaimer: HP world still not mine. HP characters not mine. Alas. I still play in JKR’s sandbox. Rita Skeeter is still a daft cow. I'm not making money off of this.

Chapter List
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Summary: AU : Harry Potter believed that Voldemort had to be stopped. He truly did. He believed he had to make the ultimate sacrifice to do so. What he didn’t realise was that when Darkness asks for the ultimate sacrifice, it seldom lets you pick what it will be. Dark Harry. Even darker everything else. [HG/SS]
Some of the more (cough) mature scenes in these chapters are co-authored by the lovely, Story-Please, because I’m pants at them. Bow to her, or bake her cookies.
Rated: M for safety for mature themes, demons (come on now, they’re DEMONS!), filthy language, dubious morals, and actions that are not nice no matter which way you spin them. (This will not be like my other stories. Be warned.)
Disclaimer: HP world still not mine. HP characters not mine. Alas. I still play in JKR’s sandbox. Rita Skeeter is still a daft cow.
Beta Love: fluffpanda, Mistress of Risotto and Connoisseur of Pasta
A/N: Plot bunny inspired by one of my Pride of Portree teammates round submissions. Blame her.
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A/N 2+: Did I mention this starts off dark and um… yeah. M rating folks! Be warned. Shady daemonic lemons. Danger!
In the Darkness in Which We are Made
Chapter 1: What Have You Done, Potter?
In Harry’s relatively short life, he had learned many things. One, he learned that blood relations didn’t mean dick for love of family; and two, Voldemort had to be stopped by any means possible.
Voldemort was the reason he had a shitty childhood. He was the reason why every person that had ever attempted to care for him had died. He was the reason that every little bit of happiness that was ever dangled infront of Harry, ripped away.
Harry clenched his hands around the dagger. He steeled his mind for what he planned to do. The circle was already drawn in tears and painted in blood runes. That part was easy. All he had to do was imagine the rat he held in his hand was Peter Pettigrew—the man who had betrayed his parents, his godfather, and the entire Order of the Phoenix. The bones were already placed: the bones of his godfather—the last person he had placed all his hopes in to have a normal life. The runes he had carefully copied from the book Hermione had been studying off of Professor Babbling and a hidden book that had been nestled deep in the restricted section.
Unlike other books in the restricted section, Harry knew the one he had copied the instructions out of had been justifiably placed under restriction. All that was contained within its pages were far more dark grey than light. The one he copied was questionable enough to warrant Aurors banging down his door.
Harry, however, was beyond caring.
The Dark Lord was a man who had sacrificed his humanity for immortality so that his power could never be questioned. Harry was simply going to meet Voldemort and fight him on equal ground. Scratch that. He was going to meet Voldemort and take everything from him, just as the Dark Lord had taken everything from him.
Harry placed a torn out page from Tom Riddle’s diary and burnt it in the brazier. The acrid smoke that came off it stank of the basilisk’s venom that had permeated the pages.
Harry turned the page in his notebook and read carefully.

“Behold my pain
And hatreds seethe.
Tears of the innocent,
To accentuate my need.
I call upon you,
Oh Dark and eternal soul,
Of power most vast,
Under your control.
Come to me,
In my circle drawn.
Parlay with me,
As your kind agreed upon.
I summon you here
At my request.
A boon of power sought
Against my enemy’s best.
Power seeks
As power does.
Bring your gift to me
And aide my cause.”
Harry draw the knife across his palm and fat scarlet droplets of his blood fell upon the brazier.
“With blood I call thee to my side.
With blood I command thee;
You must comply.”
Harry winced as his blood trickled from the wound into the brazier. The heat that blasted against the stinging cut was exceedingly uncomfortable and the smoke from the brazier seemed to slither through the air like a living thing. It moved towards the circle of protection Harry had inscribed on the floor. As the mass of smoke coagulated together inside the circle, magic flashed around the edges, and the smoke was trapped within it.
The brazier rattled against the ground, sputtering, and a dark crimson sludge boiled over from it, causing Harry to stumble backwards. The sludge bubbled, sputtered, and seeped onto the floor as a set of glowing runes formed around it. They glowed faintly, looking less menacing than they felt in his head. He could feel the power radiating off them. He could feel a strong pseudo-emotion to them. It burned like hatred; so similar to the pits of fury that had filled him when Bellatrix had murdered his godfather.
The acrid smoke that was swirling in the protective circle shuddered and became heavy in the air, solidifying into a massive shape. The shape changed, grew, shrank, mutated, and transformed until a creature as dark as jet stood in the circle. Its monstrous form towered over everything in the room, the top of its head inches from the ceiling.
The demon stooped forward and leered at Harry and a dark oily saliva dripped from its exposed canines. Dark dragon-like wings unfurled; long wing spurs the length of a man’s head curved wickedly from twisted wing-talons as it flexed its membranous wings. Black smoke rose from the demon’s body as it completed materialising.
He snarled at him, and there was no doubt in Harry’s mind that it was a he. Long curving ram’s horns twisted from a beastly head that seemed to combine both carnivore and nightmare in equal amounts. His lips pulled back threateningly, exposing dagger-like teeth.
The demon took a step forward, dark oily hooves glistening in the dim candlelight. His eyes were a shining obsidian. Fire danced within the reflection on the surface of each eye. The demon snorted, a cloud of dark vapour seeped from its nostrils, and Harry smelled sulphur and brimstone in the air.
The demon shook his head. Dark oily dreads hung around his head like a mane. Metal cylinders encircled the hair clusters and clinked together as he shook his head. “What is it you want, Harry Potter?” the demon spoke in a rumbling growl. “What could possibly make you desperate enough to summon me?”
Harry stiffened as the demon reached out, but he needn't have worried. The clawed hands stopped at the edge of the protective circle Harry had inscribed on the floor. “I seek the end of Voldemort—Tom Riddle.”
The demon growled. “Hire an assassin.”
“I’ve summoned you!” Harry replied back, his voice rising.
There was the sound of thunder, and it took Harry a moment to realise the demon was laughing at him. “All power comes with a price,” the demon rumbled. “Did you think the universe would simply hand it to you on a silver platter? Dash of salt? A smattering of insignificant blood? Did you kill someone’s cat? Say a few words when you didn’t have the foggiest what they really meant? Did you think that would be enough? Did you think it would be enough to broker Powers so much greater than your own?”
“Says the demon trapped in a circle!” Harry hissed, recovering some of his bravado.
“Even amongst my kind, Harry Potter,” the demon answered darkly, “there are always…rules. Every level of power, has a price that must be paid.”
“What is your price?” Harry demanded. “What else do you require? Voldemort must be defeated!”
“A sacrifice, Mr. Potter,” the demon said darkly, his stiletto fangs dripping black saliva that was so caustic it caused the floor upon which it fell to steam. “That is what all bargains such as yours require.”
“You want my soul,” Harry replied. “Is that it?”
The demon’s lips pulled back from his fangs in a very cruel smirk. “No, Potter,” the demon said, reminding Harry of someone familiar, though he couldn’t quite place it. “Your soul would be useless to me. It is already corrupt and shaping into something of its own nature.”
“What do you mean?” Harry demanded. “I’m trying to save people!”
“And you’re starting off marvellously, aren’t you?” The demon snarled, contempt oozing from his voice. “Stealing candy from a baby so you can collect their tears to draw this pathetic circle. Imagining that rodent was a person in rat form so you could gather the malice needed to cut its throat to paint the markings on this floor—so… chivalrous. So well meaning.”
Harry’s face grew heated. “I don’t have to explain myself to you,” he growled. “You're a demon trapped in a circle. I trapped you there. I am more powerful than you!”
The demon unfurled his wings and flapped them slightly, kicking up a heated wind. The wards on the ground glowed as the demon moved within the markings, his black eyes stared into Harry's, and Harry felt a rush of heat as the creature tore into his mind, reading through his thoughts, and casting them aside like they were nothing. Harry clutched his head in agony, feeling a hundred times worse than when Professor Snape had trounced his brain staring at all his private thoughts. It made his hated ex-Potions Professor seem downright considerate in comparison.
The demon scowled at him, turning his head away, seemingly uninterested.
“What do you want?” Harry demanded. “What price will you accept to give me the power to defeat Voldemort?”
“Power does not guarantee victory,” the demon replied.
“What price?” Harry snapped.
“It will not be in a form you think,” the demon warned.
“What price!” Harry demanded. “Answer me directly, demon!”
Soulless black eyes stared into him without pity. “A sacrifice, Mr. Potter,” the demon said flatly. “Something of value— innocent of your schemes.” The demon looked at Harry with disdain. “A sacrifice is required in payment for power given. How low will you fall in your quest for power, Harry Potter?”
Harry was unnerved that the demon knew his name. The sound of his name being spoken in the demon’s voice was unnerving. The fact the voice came from a beastly muzzle filled with long, dagger-like fangs was even more so.
Unearthly power poured out around the demon’s form, and Harry knew that it was the key to defeating Voldemort and putting an end to Tom Riddle’s dreams. The thick scent of it moved things inside of him that hungered for more. To be powerful! To be able to put an end to Voldemort! To avenge his godfather, his parents— anything would be worth it.
Harry pulled out his most cherished possession from his pocket and enlarged it with a tap of his wand. He caressed the fine varnished handle as one would touch a lover. His broom was the most cherished thing in his life—the last gift of Sirius Black to his godson. Touching the broom one last time, he placed the broom into the circle of power that had formed in front of him.
The low rumbling thunder came from the demon’s throat as he fanned his wings, growling as his wing spurs bumped up against the side of the protective binding circle. “You sacrifice a broom? A worthless tool of flight for those whose stunted evolution does not even give you wings? Do not insult me with such petty sacrifices, human.” The demon had folded his wings across his shoulders, his talons stretched across the membrane of his wings and pulled them around himself like a cloak.
Harry flushed red. The broom was the only thing he could truly say he had a great emotional attachment to. What more could the demon want? He stared at the demon, slightly unnerved even more as the creature’s soulless black eyes stared back at him. They were terribly creepy. In people, there was always this sense of soul when you looked into their eyes— a sense of life. The demon’s eyes were empty or so foreign to what made a person a person that there was no comparison in which to make. It wasn’t even like looking into an animal’s eyes, or the strange pupils of a goat. It was like staring into the Abyss, only it didn’t stare back. It devoured all who dared to look.
There was a knock on the room door, and Harry’s head shot up with a jerk.
“Harry?” Hermione’s voice called. “Harry, it’s been over a week. Please. Will you at least talk to me? Ron said you haven’t come out in days, not even to eat. Please?”
“Conceal yourself, demon!” Harry ordered.
The towering demon rumbled in amusement. “With what? A bathrobe?” The demon pointed one bony talon towards the nearby bathrobe on a hanging hook.
“Disillusion yourself! Something. Just don’t let Hermione see these circles!” Harry ordered.
The demon’s eyes glittered dangerously, venom dripping from his teeth in slow, slimy globules. “And what do I get out of it?” The demon obviously didn’t care at all whether he was seen in all of his daemonic glory, and that included his very obvious maleness.
“What do you want?” Harry snapped.
“Your sacrifice,” the demon purred.
“Harry, who are you talking to?” Hermione’s voice came through the closed doorway. Her voice sounded more frantic as she pounded on the door.
“Fine!” Harry hissed. “You can have my sacrifice as soon as I can get you one. Hide yourself!”
“Harry! Who are you talking to?” Hermione’s voice demanded again, more frantically, her fist pounding even harder on the door.
“Do you swear it?” The demon asked, black vapour swirling out of his nostrils.
“I swear it!” Harry yelled.
With a crash, the door to the room burst open, and Hermione strode in. Her wand was in her hand, and her hair was flying in all directions as though she had put her hand into a Muggle electrical socket. She huffed, her frustration, worry, and anger met in once place as she panted at him. “Harry!” she huffed, exasperated. “Who the bloody hell were you talking to?” She looked around the room, noting the lit candles, bowls of salt, and miscellaneous artifacts. “Harry?”
Harry looked over to where the demon’s circle was, and saw it was no longer there, at least to the naked eye. Both circles were invisible. Only his cast off broom lay in the middle next to the tipped over brazier. He sighed with relief and went to his knees, clenching his hands on the floor as though he were grasping a rug.
“I…” Harry stammered. “I just wanted to talk to him again, Hermione,” he lied into the ground, making it so his face was hidden from her sight. “He was the only family I had left and his own flesh and blood killed him.”
“Oh, Harry,” Hermione rushed over to him, putting her arms around his shoulders. She rubbed his back sympathetically. “I know you miss him, Harry. We all miss him. Professor Lupin, he—he just stares off into space when someone mentions his name. You can’t dwell too long on it, Harry, please.”
“I just,” Harry whined. “I wanted to know I had his blessing, you know? Before we go hunting Horcruxes.”
Hermione gazed at him sympathetically. “He loved you, Harry. I know he’d support you for this quest for the Horcruxes. Ron supports you too, and so do I.”
“You promise?” Harry asked in a whisper.
“Of course, I promise, Harry,” Hermione said adamantly. “That’s what friends do, help each other.”
Harry took Hermione into an embrace. He pressed his face into her hair and stared off to the place the demon had been standing. His lips flattened in a line as he stroked Hermione’s hair, tugging a few strands of her air and casually throwing it towards the smoldering brazier. It sputtered, and a dark red smoke rose from its depths. “For the greater good, right Hermione?” Harry whispered.
Hermione pulled away from him and nodded with a small smile.
Harry sighed softly and forced himself to smile. “Could you get my broom from over there? I think I’ve done enough thinking of the past. It’s time to think of the future.”
Hermione squeezed his shoulder. “Sure, Harry.”
Hermione pushed herself off the ground and brushed the dust and debris off her clothes. “Is this ash, Harry? What were you burning down here?”
“Something of Sirius’,” Harry answered. It wasn’t quite a lie.
Hermione looked at him with pity, turned, and walked towards the broom. She reached down to pick it up, and froze as a strange sensation slid over her. Unbeknownst to her, she had stepped into the ritual circle.
The runes and the blood-red circle flashed to life, forcing Hermione into the centre. She dropped the broom in her panic and tried to escape the circle in vain. “Harry? Harry! Something is wrong! Harry, help me!”
Harry gave a soft sigh. “I’m sorry, Hermione,” he said after a moment. “It’s for the greater good.”
“The greater—?” Hermione’s words trailed off as her eyes grew even wider.
“Voldemort must be stopped,” Harry explained. He brushed his hands off over the nearby brazier and red smoke rose from it. “He has to pay...for everything.”
Hermione slammed her fist against the invisible circle, but the runes flashed, trapping her inside, and she stared at Harry in complete disbelief. “No, Harry! No!" Her eyes scanned the room and she could see everything that had been hidden before. She stared at the open diagram on the nearby table, the ash, the now glowing circle under her, and the lit candles in very specific positions. “Harry—”
“The sacrifice is made,
the covenant kept.
My gift for the power,
if you should accept.”
Somehow, Harry kept his voice steady as he spoke the words. It was done. There was no going back.
Hermione screamed. She screamed so loudly that Harry winced. A part of him had hoped that her death would be instantaneous to spare her the pain. But even he knew that nothing was ever that easy when bargaining with a demon.
Her body buckled in pain. Tremors tore through her. Invisible cutting winds swirled around her, shedding her skin and spreading wide arcs of blood onto the circle below. Black, acrid smoke rose up from the circle and wove around Hermione’s body like a giant snake, and then, just as suddenly, her screams cut out completely.
Hermione lay in the circle, her blank eyes staring into Harry as though she could see him, but she did not blink, nor did she breathe. Tendrils of black ichor were rising from circle below her. It crawled over her skin as though it were an army of ants. Smoke rose from her body as the ichor spread over her, seeping into her skin, into her wounds, and under her tattered clothes.
The blackness flowed over her, inching over every bit of her skin like an obscene caress. It seemed to be exploring her, embracing her, and supporting her as her body was suspended in the air all the same time. It flowed into her nostrils, her ears, her open mouth, and her pores. Hermione’s body spasmed, her muscles jerking as though she was a puppet guided by invisible strings. And finally, her body stood in the circle, blank eyes staring off into space.
The demon’s circle flashed, and the great creature unfurled his wings. His muzzle twisted into a snarl as oily, black, viscous liquid dripped from his bared fangs. “Your sacrifice is accepted, Harry Potter.”
The runes for protection and binding flashed from underneath the demon, but this time the demon’s eyes smoldered and his wings fanned out. Energy shards broke around the circle and went flying outward like thousands of pieces of shattered glass and smashed into the circle that enclosed Hermione. He remained in his circle, but he reached out an arm, his talons extended towards the other circle. His fingers beckoned as one would gesture someone over for a secret, and Hermione took awkward steps towards the demon’s circle. The demon growled, caustic drool dripping from his mouth. He held out his arms like a lover, and Hermione was dazedly walked straight to him.
“Come to me, my pet,” the demon rumbled. “Come and let me adore you.”
Harry fidgeted with discomfort as Hermione walked straight into the demon’s range, and the moment her hand passed into the circle to grasp its extended talons, the demon pulled her inside with him.
The demon’s lips pulled back from its teeth as he breathed into her face. He exhaled a dark mist, and Hermione breathed it in, her expression going utterly peaceful with a hint of something else Harry couldn’t place. The demon's hands roamed wickedly down the length of Hermione’s body, sliding ardently under the tattered remains of her clothing.
Hermione’s eyes fluttered and she moaned softly.
The demon’s nostrils flared, his eyes widening as his long tongue emerged from his mouth and licked at his teeth. “Unspoiled,” he growled. “I shall be your first, your best, and the only one whose touch you’ll crave. Your hunger for me shall be eternal.”
The demon covered her mouth with his muzzle, his tongue sliding into hers with a grotesque slithering sound. His talons wove into her hair, drawing her head back. She moaned as one of his claw-like hands sheathed their claws and moved almost tenderly over her breasts and her voice made a whimpering sound of unconcealed need.
A musky scent filled the air as the demon continued his ministrations. Harry felt woozy as his body filled with a frantic feeling of arousal. Without thinking, his hand drifted downward to press against the ache in his pants. Need filled him. Lust clouded his head. He watched the demon's long-fingered hands roam over Hermione’s body, coaxing lust-filled whimpers and moans out of her.
Harry panted softly, his hand shaking as he slipped it through the waistband of his trousers to stroke the erection underneath. Heat was spreading through his body and he couldn’t control it. Part of him didn’t want to.
Hermione's mouth was open as she groaned with need, her skin flushed with arousal. The demon’s tongue laved firmly at the sensitive skin at her throat, coating her in black daemonic saliva, which moved across her skin as though alive. The dark wetness ran over the surface of her skin absorbing almost instantly into it. Each time it did so, Hermione’s body arched, twitched, and she pressed closer into the demon’s heated embrace.
The demon’s rumbling chuckle sent a shudder through Harry. It was as though both fire and ice were chasing each other across every nerve of his body. Listening to Hermione’s wet, needful cries only made it worse. He wanted to look away, but he also wanted to watch. He stroked himself, both hating himself and enjoying the sensation in equal measure
The demon pulled back from Hermione’s mouth and smiled as he watched the pitch black ichor trickling from the corner of her mouth. Even on his beastly inhuman muzzle, the expression was malevolent and triumphant.
“Give in to me, lover,” the demon purred to Hermione.
Her expression was far away. If a part of her was struggling, it was all inside her head. Her body was trembling, and her lips were slightly parted as her breaths came a little faster.
“Chaos and war shall be our marriage bed. Blood and tears shall christen our children,” he purred, his talons stroking her cheek softly as he lowered his muzzle to her mouth once more. Dark venom dripped from his teeth as even darker smoke swirled from his nostrils with every breath. “We shall be one… eternal, my… demon… queen.”
Hermione whimpered as he caressed her hair, and his long and unnaturally lithe tongue slipped into her mouth causing her to buckle in his embrace and moan.
“Let me inside of you, Hermione,” he breathed into her ears, “and I shall remake you from within.”
Hermione moaned as his tongue slide deeper inside her until his muzzle completely covered her mouth. Dark venom dripped down her chin, slithering across her skin as their kiss deepened. His talons softened into abnormally long fingers as they slid between her thighs, seeking her pleasure, and Hermione bucked into his body involuntarily, eyes widening and her pupils engulfed her irises.
“Ssssay yesss, my lover,” the demon purred into her mouth, his tongue sliding up against her cheek and teasing the skin around and inside her ear. “Become one with me and be reborn.”
Harry threw himself against the protective circle, finally understanding what was going to happen, but it was far too late. “Hermione! No!”
“Yesss,” Hermione whispered so softly it was barely a breath.
The demon rumbled with malicious laughter, eyes shining with victory. The sharp talons on his free hand ripped a line down her shredded clothing as though unzipping a zipper, freeing her body until she stood nude at his side.
“You are mine, Hermione,” the demon purred, pulling her against him as his wings unfurled and wrapped around the witch’s body. “Forever.”
The last thing Harry heard before Hermione’s voice was drowned out in a low, lustful moan was, “yours.”
“A sacrifice is required in payment for power given,” the demon’s voice called out, laughing deeply. “It was not you who made the sacrifice, Harry Potter. It was her.”
The demon’s laughter, equal velvet and venom, rang in Harry’s ears as the wet sounds of the demon consummating his bond to his new mate filled the room and left Harry a panting, desperate heap of desire, need, revulsion, and lust.

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A/N: Yeah so… this story chapter was a first for me. I hope I didn’t send any of you screaming into the night. I did warn you. This is not like anything I have ever written before… and it will remain both dark and… well whatever you classify demons as.
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In the Darkness in Which We Are Made