Title: Let's Conquer the World
Summary: Things did not go as planned when the Light gathered to chase the Dark away. Under the might of the Dark Lord and his followers, they fell. Now, the few that are left find themselves imprisoned by none other than Lord Voldemort himself, with Harry among them. Prequel to Let's Rule the World Together.
Warnings: Will eventually be slash of the HP/LV(TR) variety. For this chapter: mild violence, mention of death, torture. (Rate M just to be on the safe side, it's probably more like a T)
Disclaimer: Not mine.
A/N: To clarify: This is a prequel to Let's Rule the World Together. It has the same plot line, but its focus is the transition from hate and love between our two favourite wizards. In other words, it's for everyone who wanted more angst and character development. Those of you who were content with Let's Rule the World Together might find this a bit boring.
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Chapter 1: Count Down to Midnight
What should have been my seventh year at Hogwarts ended up being a mad scramble for victory. With Ron and Hermione by my side, we tried to gather and destroy Voldemort's six Horcruxs.
We – I – failed.
The only one we managed to find was the Locket, and that took much too long. By the time we found the Sword of Gryffindor and managed to destroy the cursed Locket, it was too late. Most of Britain had fallen, the Ministry was completely infiltrated by the Dark, and Lord Voldemort's pet Death Munchers where hot on our heels.
Our friends back at school did what they could to keep them occupied and at bay, to buy us more time, but there was only so much they could do. And so we returned, with our heads down and our tails between our legs, having failed the task Dumbledore set for us.
All those willing and capable to fight for the survival of our way of life, for the survival of the Light, gathered at Hogwarts for our final stand. We prepared the castle for war, reinforced the wards and shields, and waited. It didn't take long for Lord Voldemort to arrive with all his troops, vastly outnumbering our own.
That's when he gave us an ultimatum: If I gave myself up before midnight, everyone else in the castle would be spared.
I wanted to go, to preserve as much life as possible, but my year spent in the real world – away from the bubble wrap Dumbledore kept me in – had honed my Slytherin side.
I've seen what it's like out there, I've experienced the pain and anguish of defeat. I know what it's like to have to fight for survival, and I know what Voldemort is like.
While my childhood with the Dursley's made me crave any type of positive attention I could get, it also made me cautious.
The Wizarding World wanted a saviour, and so I gave them one as the Boy-Who-Lived, as a brash Gryffindor with a flair for danger and a hero complex a mile long. But the Boy-Who-Lived isn't enough to defeat Voldemort.
Someone like Voldemort doesn't simply let his enemies go like that. Sure, he might let the teachers go free with only minimal pain, but my friends, the people who've opposed him openly, all the muggleborns? They wouldn't get away so easily.
My Slytherin side told me to think rationally, to assess the situation, to find a way to win, to find a way to survive.
My Gryffindor side told me to do whatever necessary to save them, those people who've given everything for me, even at the price of my own life.
After a year of running rampant, it didn't take long for my Slytherin side to overpower the Gryffindor side.
So it was really only a matter of choosing whichever option had the biggest chance of success, and if at all possible, the least loss of life.
And so we fought.
And so we lost.
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I was on my knees in front of Lord Voldemort, held there forcibly by his magic with Death Eaters surrounding us. A little further away, the survivors of the Light side where huddled together, held at wand point, with Death Eaters standing around them. Behind us lay the smouldering wreckage of what many of us called Home.
Of the hundreds that had gathered to fight, less than thirty remained. Among them, even fewer of those that I considered friends.
Hermione had been one of the first casualties, an easy target for the Death Eaters. She had been too busy trying to protect me to notice them closing in on her.
Ron was next. Hermione's death shook him so much that he just didn't care anymore. Any Death Eaters he saw, he killed. He took down a lot of them, but they eventually overwhelmed him.
Fred, Lupin, Tonks, Ginny, and so many others were lost. But that doesn't really seem to matter anymore. Soon enough, we'll all be joining them in the afterlife. Or so I hope. I'm even looking forward to it a bit. Sirius would be there, and my parents.
But Voldemort has never been merciful, least of all to me.
He just stands there for a bit, looking down at me.
"Do you see now, Potter, how easy it was for me to destroy your pathetic little resistance?" His words are met with chortles from the Death Eaters and anger from a few of the survivors. Those who have lost the least. I just feel numb.
I don't answer, and that seems to piss him off. Good. The war may be lost, the Light might be vanquished, but that doesn't mean I need to let him get to me. He's already stolen everything from me. Why should I give him anymore?
I think he can read my decision in my eyes, because the next thing he does is to raise his wand in my direction and cast the Cruciatus Curse at me. And bloody hell does it hurt. There aren't a lot of people who can cast crucio like Lord Voldemort. Bellatrix is a close second, but like she told me, you have to mean it. All Voldemort has left is his hate and rage, and most of it is directed at me. It isn't hard for him to make me scream.
When he finally lifts it after what feels like an eternity, I'm left shaking on the ground. He releases the spells sometime during the torture, wanting to see me thrash against the unforgiving floor.
The glee on his snake like face, the sneers of the Death Eaters and the concern of what little few of my friends remain greet me when I can finally see properly. It's all too much. And before I know it, I'm laughing. And in that moment, I realize that I just don't care anymore. I know I should, there are still those who depend on me, those few survivors that still need their saviour, but I can't. It's just too damn much.
A little voice at the back of my head is telling me to stop, that as soon as the world stops spinning, I'll regret it, but it's too late for that. The damage is done. I can see it clearly written on his face. He doesn't even wait until I'm done with my little meltdown to turn his wand on the huddled group of sheep, never turning away from me. His red eyes say it all, so when screams starts ripping out of the throats of several of the people there, I'm expecting it. I'm still laughing, unable to stop, but now I'm crying too.
I close my eyes, then, letting the darkness claim me. There is peace in unconsciousness, for a while at least.
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A/N: Chapters are probably going to be really short, all at about 1,000 words, but updates should be regular and fairly fast. Depending on how much free time I get maybe once every fortnight or something.
Edited 08/09/2013