Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Bring Me to Life	By : Sealpotter Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male Views: 4487 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters associated with the books/movies and I never have and never will make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Prologue
- 2-Part 1
- 1
- 2
Chapter Warning: Suicidal Thoughts & Self Harm YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

Harry felt the pain leaving his body as his life flushed away with his blood. So much pain, so much horror, he needed to purge himself from this life. The pain he had caused those around him overwhelmed him. Friends who had all but abandoned him to his self imposed isolation. A family that had never wanted him, he had only been a burden on them for years. A life never his own, only allowed to move from one hell to another. He saw no way out. Here in this final challenge, at the end of the maze, he waited for his blood to leave his body before he reached for the cup. It was almost too much effort to reach for it, Harry smiled knowing in a few more moments it would be too late for them to replenish any of it.

Harry was whisked away with the cup, full of his blood, the forced travel caused the darkness to take him over. He slipped into it willingly.

The cup, blood and barely breathing body deposited in the darkness of the graveyard. Peter was so surprised by the state of the boy, that he quickly cast a charm to stop the bleeding and a stasis spell, only his master would get the right to end the boy’s life. He quickly grabbed the cup and without thinking dumped the whole thing in, easily losing his grip as the cup and blood landed into the bubbling cauldron. Peter screeched not knowing how the cup would affect the potion. He scrambled to finish his task hoping that it worked out in the end.

When Voldemort emerged fully whole, fully human and once again in a young body he was amazed. Memories that were not his own assaulted him. Beatings by a man so large he could compete with a whale, heart-wrenching hatred spewed by one of his faithful followers and children he did not know, a self-loathing so deep that he knew these were not his own memories. For the first time in ages, he felt more than the love of power and the need to kill. It took Voldemort a few minutes to sort through everything assaulting his mind. His needs seemed to pale in comparison to the visions of darkness enveloping his mind. He knew pain like this, he had lived it many years ago. His life had driven him to let his heart become ice towards everyone and anyone. Who could have suffered so much more than himself? Who could have lived through more pain than he remembered ever enduring?

Voldemort turned to his servant that was still in pain, “Whose blood did you use?”

“Harry’s, my Lord,” Peter whispered out in his pain.

Voldemort turned to look for the captured boy but did not see him.

“Where is the prisoner?” Voldemort hissed out.

“Here on the ground, I saved him for you to kill,” Peter spoke with a hopeful voice.

Voldemort walked and saw what looked like the corpse of a boy.

“You were only supposed to take a drop.” Voldemort raged at his servant.

“The cup was full, my Lord I did not want to waste it. There was so much blood.” Peter whispered.

Voldemort knelt down and took the boy’s wand and cast a quick spell to see what was the last spell. He gasped, never had he known anyone to cast that severe a cutting hex on one’s self. It was as if the boy meant to kill himself. He cast a Legilimens to see the last memories and was assaulted with such self-loathing and pain he had to pull out fast before his own mind was taken over.

All these years and it would be so easy to kill this boy that was a threat to his power. All because of a prophecy. Yet, the pain inside the boy called to the pain inside himself. His own hollow existence paled compared to the life that the boy had lived. He had found a way to make people love him, this boy only found rejection and hatred. He had only been subjected to the words of a bully that did not understand him, this boy suffered the physical pain of abuse so horrible that his own tortures looked nice. He had suffered no love from the people who raised him but had found friends and acceptance in his teachers and school mates. This boy only found more reversion everywhere he went. People were afraid to be near the boy because of how dangerous his life had been so no kindness was ever bestowed. Yet Voldemort felt no hatred in the boy like there was in his own heart. There was no driving need for revenge or even anger. This pissed Voldemort off. The boy should be out for the blood of those that had wronged him but only sought to shed his own. Voldemort growled at that. His life had been heaven compared to this boy’s hell. The desire to kill the boy slipped away in the waves of anger for the boy’s life and suffering. He wasn't sure why he cared, but for the first time in his life, he cared about something other than himself.

~TBC - Please review :D
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Bring Me to Life