Disclaimer: not mine
Warnings: manipulation, mind games, psycho at work (?) ;
I usually don't like responding to reviews like this, but since it was an anonymous review there is no other way for me to respond at all, so, please, bear with me. Because this review actually made me angry enough to postpone updating the last chapter:
"From: ranting ()
-------------------
Is there ever going to be any point to all of this? You know, plot,
progression, etc? All your chapters are pretty much the same you know.
Harry is depressed, Voldemort is evil, Snape is...well, some extra
character no one really gives a crap about. I'm not saying I don't like
the story, because I really do. It's just that for a story to be a story
you can't just repeat the same stuff in every single chapter. Harry's
life sucks. We get it. 99.9 of harry potter fanfiction makes this
excruciatingly clear. Can we please move forward in the plot now? Oh,
and why doesn't Harry just jump off a really high place somewhere? That
should take care of any bond issues. Heck, maybe your plot should be
about how long it takes for him to figure this out. Sorry. I really do
like the story. I just get annoyed helpless characters. They piss me
off."
First off, I don't just paste and copy one chapter and post it nine times. I'm sorry if you're not a Snape fan, but that doesn't make him less important to my story or my plot. He will, in fact, continue to play a role in the sequel, for which this story is needed as an introduction or all of the readers would be hopelessly lost and confused.
Second, I don't care what you can read about in other HP stories, since none of them are mine. If you don't like it, don't read it.
Third, Harry can't commit suicide since Voldemort used a spell to prevent it, which was explained in detail in a previous chapter. It's not my fault if you don't remember things correctly or don't read them in the first place.
I don't believe for a second that you actually like or read this story. You proved it with every word you wrote.
At all my other reviewers: Thank you and sorry for this rant.
Chapter 10
When Harry woke up the first thing he noticed was the absence of any other living being, for which he was profoundly thankful. Voldemort had looked far too delighted when he put that sleeping spell on him.
As he turned and leaned on his elbows he noticed something else. His whole body hurt. Determined to take a look at any injuries he might have sustained while unconscious, he tried to sit up, only to shout as pain exploded at the action.
Quickly he rolled back onto his stomach.
He had a fairly good idea why he would hurt in that particular place. It got harder and harder to breath and the room seemed to spin around him as he processed that thought.
Ignoring his aching muscles, he rolled around till he fell off the bed. The carpet felt like sandpaper against his overly sensitive skin. His whole body trembling with the effort, he crawled to the bathroom. Harry was halfway there, when the hated chuckle sounded from the direction of the door.
Voldemort couldn't help but chuckle at the picture his kitten made, crawling weakly on the carpet. It had taken the younger one half a day longer to wake up, exhausted both magically and physically as he was from the ritual.
"And where do you think you are going?" he hissed amusedly.
With quick strides he was next to his captive, picked him up and placed him back onto the bed.
"I need to get ready for school or I'll be late." his little kitten hissed back defiantly, showing none of the terror his pale face and short breathing implied.
Voldemort couldn't help but grin at that. There simply was no other creature as amusing and pleasing to watch as his kitten. Looking into green eyes that burned with defiance Voldemort laid one of his hands onto the balled up fist of his captive, caressing it with his thumb, marvelling at its softness.
"Did I forget to mention? You won't be attending Hogwarts anymore, kitten. They don't teach the things you'll need to know in the future there. I've already sent an owl to inform the Headmistress of this."
He watched as green eyes widened. His kitten sank down on the bed faintly, like a puppet whose strings had been cut. To stop him from hyperventilating Voldemort caught his lips in a kiss, tasting once more what would be his for eternity.
"Really it would be most unbecoming for a spouse to attend Hogwarts during his honeymoon." he continued, enjoying the reaction his words caused in his kitten.
"Spouse? Honeymoon? What are you…?" But even as Harry asked, a myriad of pictures attacked his mind, memories of sensations and whispered words, of pleasure and passion and magic swirling around them, seeping into his skin, his very soul.
With a gasp, Harry tore his hand out of Voldemort's grip.
"No."
Voldemort just chuckled again and started to caress Harry's hair instead, his pale hand moving through black tresses in a mockingly soothing way.
"Really, kitten, I'm hurt. You enjoyed it well enough and you begged so very prettily."
And he was right, Harry remembered now. He remembered his pleas, remembered how he had embraced and pleased in turn.
"No." This time it wasn't a weak whisper but nearly a yell.
"I admit it surprised me a bit when you started to reciprocate, too. But I was more fun that way, don't you think, kitten?"
Fury and shame raced through him, throwing his mind in a kaleidoscope of contradicting emotions. Blindly he grabbed for the nearest thing, a dark red pillow, and threw it in Voldemort's face.
"You bastard! What did you DO to me?" he shouted, too angry to care for the consequences of his actions.
Voldemort's only reaction was to laugh, place the pillow back on the bed and stand up. Under Harry's burning gaze he placed a glass filled with a lilac potion on the nightstand.
"Drink this, it's a pain reliever. Then make yourself presentable and meet me in the study and I will inform you about your new status and all in entails, my dear consort."
With that last mocking endearment, Voldemort left the bedchamber.
Stretching a shaking hand out to the night stand, Harry picked up the glass and took the potion, hoping it was some kind of poison.
As the potion worked its magic Harry tried to block the flow of memories that made him feel used, dirty, weak.
A shower, he needed to shower to get at least some of the dirt he felt off. So he went into the bathroom, letting hot water punish his skin, scrubbing himself over and over till his skin broke and he started to bleed. Then he stepped out of the shower, dried and finally chanced a look into the mirror.
His face was so pale it looked ashen and if his eyes grew any wider they would fall out. He looked like some kind of shock victim and the thought brought enough anger with it to shake him out of his stupor.
"Stop it, you idiot. Is that how you intend to fight back? By whimpering and falling to pieces? Can that pathetic, snivelling imitation of Wormtail really be the last Potter heir? Is that the warrior your parents died for? That Sirius died for? Get a grip, Potter. So, he took your innocence. So what? You knew he would. That doesn't change a thing, he still needs to be fought before he destroys even the last light spirit in Britain." he yelled at himself with scathing hisses, hitting the mirror at his last words.
Head held high he left the bathroom, put on some clothes and went to meet Voldemort. A constant mantra ringing in his mind: "I won't cry, I will be strong, I will fight him, I won't give in."
When his kitten finally entered the study Voldemort was highly entertained. It looked like his kitten's fighting spirit had returned, his entire pose screamed defiance.
"Take a seat, you must still be tired out from last night." he gestured to the table and enjoyed the way his kitten bristled at the mention of last night.
Walking up to his prey, he placed an old, thick book in front of him, then couldn't resist the urge to play with his kitten's dark, silky hair once again.
"You wanted to know what I did to you, kitten. The book will answer that question for me. Study it well, kitten."
Letting go of the hair, he placed a kiss on the crown of his kitten's head and walked to the door.
"Your lessons will start next week."
With a soft click he closed the door behind him and smiled. He couldn't wait to see how his kitten would try to fight and defy him in the future. In the past insanity had clouded his sight and his goal had been the annihilation of the one soul that was his equal.
But sanity had brought a new plan to life. If the world trembled at the thought of his strength how terrified would the people be to learn that he had made the one person that was his equal in strength of mind, will, soul, power his consort, to rule at his side?
Oh, he knew that his kitten would fight him at every step into the darkness and intended to enjoy it to the fullest. Because his kitten took strength from the people he cared about, he would be easily manipulated. It was kind of ironic, Voldemort guessed, that his prey's strongest weapon, his caring, would also be the weakness through which Voldemort would tame him.
Curiously Harry looked at the book in front of him. He still didn't comprehend what Voldemort was planning or why he wasn't being punished for his defiance. If the book held answers for him, he would read it.
The cover was made of pristine white leather and in bold, blood red letters the title read "Nemesis Bane".
Three hours later, the book fell out of numb fingers. Passages of the book floated through his mind "will crave touch of", "cannot survive without essence of caster", "after some time the need to please" and worst of all "the merging of souls will halt time for victim and caster".
If he had thought it was hard to fight Voldemort before it would be nearly impossible now. Voldemort's move would in time prove to be the final checkmate Harry won't be able to escape. Harry was fighting on borrowed time, because he wouldn't only be fighting against his nemesis, but against himself as well.
Closing his eyes, Harry let out a shaky breath. He needed to be cool and collected from now on or he would lose.
Lunch came and went without a sight of Potter and Snape grew worried. Rationally he had accepted the fact that he couldn't help the young man any longer, but that didn't curb the worry he felt.
Snarling he angrily strode to the Headmistress' office determined to find out where their wayward student was and if need be inquire after the boy from the Dark Lord.
"Minerva, have you heard anything about Mr. Potter?" he asked as soon as he was through the door. One look at his colleague's ashen and tear streaked face told him that yes, there had probably been news and they had been bad.
McGonagall visibly pulled herself together and gestured to a letter on her desk. "The Dark Lord graciously informed me today about Mr. Potter's withdrawal from Hogwarts. He is convinced that Hogwarts won't be able to teach Mr. Potter all that he will have to know to better fulfil his role as the Dark Prince."
Snape felt numb. Cinnamon, he thought incoherently, he smelled of cinnamon. Cinnamon which is used in some of the oldest and darkest of body and mind altering potions. It was also, he recalled, the ingredient that caused the irreversibility of the potions.
"Well, we weren't foolish enough to truly believe that the Dark Lord would give the light's main symbol and hope back to us, were we?" Ignoring the scandalised look the comment earned him, Snape apologized to the dead in his head. "I'm sorry, Albus, it looks like there is no path for your favoured child to walk but the one into the darkness."
-The end-
All right, that's it for "Reign of Darkness", the introduction and groundwork for the real story (…I guess you could call it) which will be up in a week or so. If you want to know more about the breeding slaves, the political situation of a Britain reigned by a Dark Lord, want to meet some old friends and want to know how/if Harry is still fighting keep tuned.