Dwell With Me In Darkness
Prologue
Light thinks it travels faster than anything but it is wrong.
No matter how fast light travels, it finds the darkness has always got there first, and is waiting for it.
~Terry Pratchett ~
I can hear voices, so many voices. Each one a whispered caress across the surface of my mind, as seductive and enthralling now as they were when I had first been given access to them. I close my eyes and just lose myself in each soothing tone as it rolls over any other conscious thought.
I couldn't tell you when I strayed from the path of light that had been laid out at my feet before I was aware of it. I couldn't tell you when the people I thought to follow turned into people I knew I had to fight. All I know is that I chose a different path, rose as a leader and broke the destiny I was moulded for…broke the destiny that others were moulded for also.
Now I am awaiting my execution.
My prison guards tell me that Hermione was the first to be executed, that she had held her head high when they took her into the chamber within which she would burn. She had looked so beautiful when they had come for her, chestnut hair gleaming in soft curls about her face, smooth pink lips held in a smirk and her eyes dancing with the innate knowledge that she was so known for.
I never felt her passing; her brand to me should have told me of it. I take it as a good sign, they were either lying to me about her death or worst case scenario they had found a way to break the magic my brand holds...I find the latter part most unlikely…especially since her death or the brand removal should have pulled the magic she gave me from my body…I still have it…but I cannot hear her amongst the whispers.
Perhaps they think that scare tactics will work with me, they should realise by now that after everything I have seen and done…there is very little left that can scare me. Perhaps I never really will see another dawn, but I shall face my fate unafraid…I am no longer the boy that I once was, they should have realised that when I killed the previous Dark Lord.
Ron sits in the room next to where I am held and if I close my eyes I can picture him. He sits cross-legged on the floor; his face is a picture of peaceful contemplation...almost reminiscent of the days when he had been my strategist. They tell me that he is the next to die; the unseen acceptance in his posture confirms that he knows it.
Next then will be Draco.
My heart misses a beat as I think of him, his pale skin so smooth to touch. His storm grey eyes that burn with such fire, such passion for the cause. His elegant limbs, so strong and solidly built, his white blond hair...how it looks tangled between my tanned fingers. How his broad form makes me feel sheltered even though we both know that I have more magical strength than he does.
He was my main reason; he was my final purpose for defying the puppet masters that had held fast to my strings. He showed me how to be my own master, opened doors to a world I had never dreamed to be a part of…watered the seeds that had already been planted within me.
Perhaps I should tell you the story of how things came to be this way, I wonder if my memoires will be as popular as the slander I imagine the prophet will print. I wonder if you'll read further into my words, realise that there only ever really was one truth that I needed to understand more than any other.
There is no good and evil, there is only power and those too weak to seek it.
When I became what I have become I shed all of my weaknesses; I was a vessel of power, the willing concubine to the changing of fate. Then I finally became the perfect weapon they had all wanted me to be, but I was my own perfect weapon.
But that is neither here nor there now...now it is time for you to listen to my story.
The water was almost black under the night sky, a fathomless darkness lit only by the pale glow of the moon overhead. A sudden howl split through the silence followed by the answering shriek of the wind as it began to blown in earnest…a sure sign that a storm was approaching.
High upon the edge of the cliff that looked out over the crashing waves, a lone animal ambled from the trees into the rocky clearing. Its body shape changed as it bounded closer to the edge, canine limbs elongating to become those of a human until at last a dark haired man stood doubled at the waist, panting as he clutched at his knees and tried to frantically regain his breath.
He was soon joined by another, a youth who looked more like he had been for a light jog than the fast paced running he had been doing.
Eyeing the older man, the younger of the two shook his head and a chuckle of amusement rang clearly from his throat. Another howl sounded out and both looked warily towards the trees, but neither man made a move away from the place they now stood. This was where they would wait…this was where they would make their stand should the need to do so arise.
Harry Potter had imagined being reunited with his godfather since he had fallen into the veil, but he had not expected it to be followed by a night like this and he had not expected his surrogate godfather to be chasing them both through the forest through which they had just ran. Sighing he carded a hand through his hair and surveyed the very real and impressive figure of Sirius Black as he finally managed to draw himself up to his full height.
"Who do you think tampered with the potion then" Sirius asked at last, flicking his wand to his hand with a quick movement of his wrist. He was referring to the wolfsbane potion that Remus Lupin started to take when the full moon was almost upon them.
Harry considered the question; he would hazard a guess that whoever had done it had been extremely good with potions. Remus had been taking wolfsbane for years; it would take the hand of an expert to tamper with a potion knowing that the taker would notice a difference in the taste or potency. But that left the field open for many people in the trade, Severus Snape would have once been top of the list…but he had earned Harry's trust this past year.
"Probably some bloody do-gooder who thinks that all creatures are dark or about to fall in with the Dark Lord" Sirius's voice was bitter as he answered his own question. That was another thing Harry had noticed since his godfathers return from the veil, he seemed more…foreboding…dark. He still retained his humour, but from what Harry could tell, the elder man's ideals had twisted somewhat since he'd been back.
Sinking into a sitting position atop a large rock, Sirius eyed him with suddenly sombre eyes.
"Do you ever wonder what we fight for Harry?" he asked at last, his voice so soft that Harry fought to hear the words. He blanched at them, confusion marring his brow. Why would Sirius say such a thing?
"How can you ask that? You know what would happen if we were to give in, you know what Voldemort wants" Harry said at last, he frowned when Sirius sighed in response. He made a vague gesture about them before he finally spoke his next words.
"I don't agree with the dark lord Harry, but is the world the ministry have us live in any better? A world that would rather wrap itself in denial than accept the truth, a world that would rather watch one person be shamelessly used for their own ends…tell me something Harry, do you wonder what they will do with you once you fulfil this so called prophecy of theirs?" Sirius's eyes were dark, something cold hidden within their depths.
Harry took a step back, stumbling in his haste to suddenly put some distance between himself and his godfather.
"I'm tired Harry, tired of watching you be abused and being unable to do a damn thing about it. Tired of being branded a murdering psychopath even though my name has technically been cleared, tired of having to love my partner in secret because it would shame the world to know that it's a man…I'm just tired."
The elder man looked out over the horizon, almost as though he was scanning for answers to unknown questions in the darkness.
"I am, for all intents and purposes a dark wizard Harry…sugar coat my existence all you want but people like me, Severus and hell even Remus…we're all dark wizards. When this war is over, we'll be held accountable for crimes we didn't commit and punished to soothe people we've never met…in the end, we're no better off...only we'll be the examples that will be made."
Harry shook his head vehemently, wanting to deny the words that were being spoken to him. But the part that caused his heart to ache the most, the simple truth was that he couldn't. Because when it all came down to it, when everything was said and done and the war was finally over…Sirius was right, they would punish dark wizards just like they always had done. It wouldn't matter how much help they had given, how instrumental they had been in the winning of the war. They would be punished by the ministry.
Then they would cast Harry aside.
"I'll follow you though Harry, even if it leads me to my death, I'll follow you." Sirius turned his head to look at him once more, this time his eyes shone with the conviction of his words, then he was smiling and the air about them changed…settling into the comfortable silence that had been apparent before.
Watching his godfather stare up at the full moon, Harry wondered if the conversation they'd just had had ever really taken place at all.
Draco Malfoy jolted awake with a start, his whole body was layered with a thin sheen of sweat and he shivered when the cold air hit his damp skin. He closed his eyes and imaged danced before him, violent and twisted and so utterly terrifying he was left gasping in their wake.
Stumbling from his bed he made his way to the bathroom and crashed to his knees next to the toilet seconds before he was emptying the contents of his stomach. Dry heaves wracked him when he had no more left to give until finally he lay slumped against the rim, the cool porcelain doing much to alleviate the sudden pain in his temples.
He couldn't recall everything from the dream, but what he'd seen had been enough to render him utterly sickened.
His mother's body swaying in the breeze, the rope tight about her neck as her lifeless eyes stared unseeing at the sea of Auror's who jeered beneath her. His father's voice soaring high on a pain filled scream as flames lashed out at him, his skin red and cracked and blistering as they roared and the band of vigilante's whooping and cheering as they watched him burn to death.
His own eyes staring with horror at the dementor that glided towards him, its gaping mouth the last thing he saw before it kissed the soul from his body.
But it wasn't just his family he had seen, oh no, there'd been Severus Snape carted through the streets in irons, his head held high as they announced his execution for all to hear. The attack on Remus Lupin, a man who'd fought on the good side of the war, dragged from his home under the cover of darkness his friend Sirius Black not far behind him, cursing and struggling against the men who shouted angry words and hissed insults at him before they all disappeared.
It was but a possible future, Draco's talents were raw and untrained and not everything he saw came to pass. But ones like this one left him shaking in the aftermath, this had been a particularly bad one and it was the last vision that had struck a chord in him the most.
Harry Potter, the supposed saviour of the Wizarding world pulled from his pedestal, blamed for not acting quick enough to stop the war. Blamed for the countless deaths of innocents, his head bowed and defeated and his eyes resigned to his fate when they finally passed a sentence on him.
A lifetime spent behind the walls of Azkaban with no hope of release.
Feeling strong enough to get to his feet he made his way back to his dorm, he was not surprised to find that his roommates were also awake. Blaise Zabini squinted at him sleepily as he pushed a hand through his dark tousled hair. Vincent Crabbe yawning widely as he pushed the sheets from his body to stand and Gregory Goyle stretching as he rose from his bed.
"What did you see" a feminine voice sounded out from the doorway and Draco turned to see Pansy Parkinson, Daphne Greengrass and Millicent Bulstrode stood in the doorway to their room, the outline of their bodies slightly visible beneath their nightgowns in the torchlight that lit the halls behind them. He didn't question how they knew, they always knew.
Beckoning them into the room he nodded towards the door which Daphne closed behind her, after a moment Millicent cast a silencing charm on it to make sure the conversation they were about to have would not be overheard. They seated themselves on Draco's bed, he swallowed and straightened his body as he launched into a description of his dream, Pansy's hand reaching out for his when he spoke of his parent's death and his dementors kiss.
Blaise frowned thoughtfully after Draco had finished and Draco eyed him, waiting patiently for the moment when his friend would speak.
"So it would appear that the Wizarding world would be quite willing to sacrifice their hero for fear of his power and the need to appease the masses. How utterly predictable of them" he said at last and Draco nodded his agreement to the words.
Pansy snorted, thus bringing everyone's attention to her, probably the reason why she had done such an action. She contemplated the fabric of her nightgown for the moment, her hand still twined within Draco's own. She gave his fingers a comforting squeeze before letting him go and lifting her gaze to the people seated around her.
"We all knew the risks when we signed up with the Dark Lord, but then we all know what the Ministry is capable of. Unlike the so called goody goodies of their not so secret Order and such, we were never blessed with rose tinted glasses and I for one never expected to see the end of the war alive." Draco heard the murmurs of agreement to her words around him along with his own; he too had not expected to live throughout the entirety of the war.
"But what if there was a third option we hadn't considered before" she said at last and Draco blinked in confusion to her words. Before a sudden understanding dawned on him, a remembrance of an off the cuff remark she had made a few weeks ago during a drunken conversation…she'd obviously been more serious about it than he'd thought she'd be.
"Pansy absolutely not, you get that idea out of your head right now, you need to forget you ever thought of it in the first place" he all but growled out. She shrugged her shoulders but her expression said that the matter was far from settled.
"What are you both prattling on about now?" Gregory's voice broke the sudden silence and Draco groaned inwardly when Pansy's eyes lit up. She was obviously going to voice her opinion no matter what he said, but surely she had to see that what she suggested was utter lunacy. He made a casual gesture with his hands indicating she could say what she needed to say when she looked at him in question, he wondered what his companions would think of her idea.
"We serve someone else instead, someone who we can recruit to our cause, someone who can be just as deadly and powerful as the dark lord himself. Someone who can shape the Wizarding world into the world it was always meant to be" she said her voice earnest and almost hypnotic in its fervour as she spoke.
"Surely you don't mean…" Daphne's voice broke off on a gasp as realisation washed over her, Blaise's eyes widened, followed by Vincent's sudden curse followed by Millicent and Gregory's slack jawed surprise. It was a given that they had all reached the same conclusion but Pansy still felt she needed to actually voice the name of the person who she had in mind.
"Harry Potter" she finally said and the room burst into a noisy symphony as everyone began to have their say.
Harry couldn't sleep, oh he'd gone through the usual motions of trying but still it continued to elude him.
Huffing out an annoyed breath he threw the tangled covers from his body and with as little noise as possible made his way down to the common room. He was surprised to see the fire burning brightly, his eyes adjusting to the dim light it cast enough to see the slouched figure of Hermione Granger sitting on the couch as she contemplated the flames.
She didn't startle when he sat down next to him, in fact she didn't look at him at all and he wondered what thought held her so in its sway. He too turned to gaze into the fire, his own thoughts drifting to the conversation he'd had with his godfather.
Since returning from their excursion he had been unable to think of anything else, unable to dismiss the picture of utter resignation that had seemed to surround Sirius as he spoke of what he imagined would happen after the war. Harry had wanted to reassure him, had wanted to tell him that everything was going to be ok…but he couldn't…because he didn't know that.
"Hermione…do you sometimes wonder what will happen after the war?" he found himself needing to ask the question, needing her calm reassurances that everything would be fine when it was all over. But when he turned to face her he found a frown had settled upon her face as she contemplated what he had asked.
"Sometimes I'm afraid to think of it" she whispered at last.
He blanched at her; he'd not expected that to be the answer she would give. He'd expected a hesitant smile and her acknowledgement that yes they would lose good people but in the end they would be left with a Wizarding world free of the darkness Voldemort posed to it, and that they would then be able to help shape it how it needed to be shaped.
Rising from the couch she stared down at him for a few moments, her eyes glittering eerily in the dim light.
"We're going to lose a lot of good people Harry, some of them we'll lose to the war. But what frightens me the most is the thought of how many we will lose when this war is finally over" she said, her voice trembling yet utterly sure in what she was saying. She turned back towards the fire for a moment before finally leaving the room with a muttered goodnight.
Closing his eyes Harry thought on what his friend had said. If there was one person he could count on being utterly honest in what they thought regardless of whether the honesty would be well received, it would be Hermione.
Two people now, two people had told him something similar and he didn't know how to process what they had said.
He'd been preparing for the inevitability of this war since his first year, he knew it was going to happen and he was determined to put a stop to Voldemort. But the after, he'd never really given it much thought on than to the fact that Voldemort would be gone and he would be free.
But would he really?
Would the Ministry be content to leave him alone when he'd done what fate and prophecy demanded of him? Would they allow him to cut out a life of his own that was separate to what everyone expected of him? Would they really punish those they saw as dark wizards? Would the public demand it of them?
So many thoughts whispered through his head, so many questions asked that he could not answer. He didn't know what the future would bring, he wasn't a seer, but for the first time he found himself apprehensive as to what the end of the war to come would bring. Would it bring about peace or would it cause more heartache? He couldn't say for sure and it scared him.
Knowing sleep would not come easily, Harry settled back with nothing but the flickering flames and his foreboding thoughts to keep him company.
It would be a long night.
AN: Whew first chapter done. Just realised I never put it at the top so I shall put it here, I do not own any characters in association with the Harry Potter verse and no prophet is being made from their use. Only the plot and any own characters I introduce will be mine. Now I have to warn you, this may be slow going, the idea for this hit me just after I typed up and posted my first chapter for my Ai no Kusabi and my muse may be just as fickle with this piece as I imagine it will be for that one. But I never leave work unfinished and no matter how long it takes there is always an end to what I start. Not much going on in this chapter I know, but it is doing what it needs to do which is set the beginning of the story my muse intends me to tell. I hope you will enjoy it and I have no idea how long it will be, I'm just as much along for ride as you all are.
