The Dark Beckons
Summary: Eventual DMHP SLASH, and LVDM. Draco is tasked with turning Harry Potter to the Dark, by whatever means necessary, but what Voldemort didn't know that was when Harry's feeling towards Draco, his would as well, to the point where he can't resist the blonde. Poor Draco.
A/N: I'm finally writing this down. I've had the ideas in my mind for about a year. And warning: I don't update frequently. Do not expect it. I'm going through hell at home, probably going to get kicked out in the near future. As in, a couple months' time, maybe weeks if I argue with them. So, if that happens, I'll try to dedicate a bit more time to this. I won't be able to go to college, I'd need a job, and probably a helluva lot of government programs to get me out of a shelter, because I'd be homeless. This is how I take my anger out. Anything graphic will be put on a different site, under my same pen name. Once I have set that up, I'll tell you where it is.
WARNINGS: LVDM SLASH, DMHP SLASH, mentions of incestuous rape (no scenes), MULTIPLE cases of child abuse/neglect, violence, graphic torture, slightly OOC creature Draco (no worries, no chosen mates or anything with these creatures), creature Bellatrix, & Dark Lord Voldemort, Dark Snape, suicidal thoughts, gore, language, and whatever else I forgot to mention.
Story Start:
Voldemort wasn't an idiot. He knew the night he returned, that Harry Potter was broken. When he saw a fleeting glimpse of delight at him rising from the cauldron, soon replaced disgust and hatred of Potter himself, he had delved into his mind, eager to figure out what had caused this.
Maybe there's hope after all. Maybe, if he rules, I can finally do everything they did to me. I can pay them back for every bruise, broken bone, loss of blood, burn, and scar. I can make them feel like I felt, every bloody day in their 'loving care'. They'll at least be treated like the shit they are. That they all are. No one helped me when I screamed. No one believed me. Everyone ignored the signs. Even Dumbledore. And he'd never agree to what I have planned for them. Maybe… maybe the Dark Lord would let him have my revenge, if I-
No! I'm with the Light. They saved me, they love me, and I can't betray them. They need me. And Hermione: what would they do to her?! Torture her, kill her, or enslave her. Destroy her. The Weasley's would be killed for being traitors, because that's what they were. I can't… can't let it happen. No matter how much I want revenge, it isn't worth betraying everyone I love.
Voldemort left his mind quickly, a plan set in place. He would let Potter live. He made sure he lost the duel and let him run. Then, he would need someone to get close to the boy, show him the ways of the dark, and make him realize that there's more to the world than meets the eye. Voldemort had his reasons, and he needed someone intelligent enough to show him that without making it obvious, powerful enough to protect him, and able to get past whatever emotions he may hold towards him, and dedicated enough to not let Potter make mistakes or slip in his allegiances. And he knew the perfect person. He had observed Harry's reactions during several times he had slipped into his head to a blonde who Voldemort found attractive (damn Potter!) as well. His heart had sped up, he blushed, and he stared (while in Potter's head. It was Potter's reactions, not his. Damin it all to hell!) Draco had laid off for a while in his 4th year and had warned the Slytherins to leave the boy alone. When Harry, confused, cornered Draco and asked why he was doing it, he clearly didn't expect the answer he got.
I saw you after the first task in the health room. The scars… everything became so much clearer. The need to belong: you didn't belong before. No wizard would, with that filth. The loyalty, to people you don't even know: you want to be accepted and loved and will do anything to keep that feeling, even hide who you are. You use your mask to hide what you think won't be accepted, and became the hero, the golden boy, the savior: you just want to fit in. Because what they told you was that if you were normal, you would be loved. But you don't have to be normal, Harry. You can be you, and be accepted. I know you were meant to be a Slytherin. You hide your true self flawlessly to be whatever you're supposed to be. I've done it for years. We all have. We are what society made us. But you… you're special. I don't want you to get hurt again by one of your own, and I'll kill whoever made you hide your true self, because you're being ruined slowly, broken slowly, by this mask they made you wear. And the rest of society, the Light especially, is no better. I'll protect you, Harry, regardless if you feel you need it or not.
Despite the boy had declared he would protect Potter, Voldemort 's respect increased by a thousand. Because while Draco had seemed like a Hufflepuff or Gryffindor, Voldemort knew that the boy was a Slytherin through and through. Draco had realized Potter's potential and had accepted him unconditionally, knowing who he was and who he wanted to be, unlike what his 'friends' had done. He saw beyond the mask, beyond what Potter portrayed and what even Voldemort believed about the boy, and came to realizations that were shocking. He found a snake in the lion's den, and instead of yelling it far and wide, he decided to protect what was his. And Potter was a Slytherin despite his protests, and as he knew well, all Slytherins belonged to the current king. Draco had staked his claim by having them stop, maybe explaining some things differently, because there was no way he would tell a secret of his chosen… whatever he was to Draco, and probably controlling them and punishing them if they dared to disobey. He wasn't loyal yet, but that was because he was hurt by them. Lucius did something to him, he knew. He had hinted at it in his speech to Potter, and Voldemort knew that Lucius was stupid enough to do something. Voldemort knew even his father would have been blind not to see his beauty and grew murderous to think of what Lucius had done to HIS Draco.
What Voldemort didn't realize was that his possessive feelings, affection, admiration, and respect were coming from Harry.
He was rudely interrupted from his plans when once one of the foolish Death Eaters sent a killing curse, he turned on him.
"That boy is mine!"
Once Harry disappeared, Bellatrix crucioed the Death Eater.
"Idiot! It was in our Lord's intentions to let the boy live. Do you doubt our Lord's capabilities?! Are you so unintelligent that you believed for a second that a mere boy could defeat Our Lord?!"
"He did it once…" the idiot muttered.
It was then that Voldemort realized that it was Bellatrix's own husband, Rodolphus, who was under the curse. Azkaban clearly had affected him far more than his wife, but he was an idiot before all of that too. Bellatrix, even though she portrayed herself to be insane, was not. It was a mere mask to frighten the enemies, and when she wanted to, she was charming, persuasive, and quite sane. Brilliant, actually. When he was younger, he had found her to be attractive in personality and closest to a match as anyone would ever get... or so he thought. There was one other who was very prominent in his mind. Unfortunately, he never found Bellatrix's gender to be… right for him, or nearly as attractive as his own gender.
"May I, my Lord?" Voldemort heard her say and refocused. He nodded. "After we get out of here. It isn't safe."
Bellatrix sadistic smile grew. She was forced into her marriage and if not for Azkaban, would have been forced into bed and then motherhood. Not that motherhood wouldn't have suited her, but she would never let Lestrange for a moment touch her. He was disgusting, a mockery of a wizard and the lowest of the low in her eyes. He was a pedophile, into incest: he raped his own brother, for Salazar's sake! His brother was a stark contrast, and she thought of him as one of her line. She needed to protect him, and the only way to do that was to accept her role as a dutiful daughter and wife. But now her parents were long dead, her reputation long tarnished by the Light, and her Lord agreed to whatever measures she wanted to punish him by. Oh, she was going to have fun. Just because she was sane… ish, didn't mean that her mask was entirely inaccurate. She was Dark, evil to her core. A black widow. And, well…. A demon. It was why she was so powerful, so Dark, so seductive in her true form. As her father before her had, she kept it from the world, to avoid the lustful stares, gropes, and attempts to woo her. Almost no one knew of it, with the exceptions of Narcissa, Rabastan, her father and mother (who had taken it well, considering), and of course her lord. And Narcissa had turned on her after realizing she was not one as well, and knowing her sister, would do anything to suppress Draco's power. Bellatrix couldn't have that. Narcissa was next on her list, and maybe even her nephews if he had received the same treatment, that she had, long ago. And she didn't doubt for a second that he had been hurt by that poisonous bitch.