Of the Darkest nature
Disclaimer: This is an attempt to tell a friend to give up his ideas of writing HP/WoW. if i had a bit more time, i'd flesh out the idea, funnily It's also something I had in mind for a later release, but this is as much as its going to get right now. Will deliver sequel if people show enough interest in it.
Unholy servant
Harry James Potter was not by any means normal. He didn't have a normal youth, nor did he have any normal school period, having made it through school with his two friends, Ron and Hermione until their fifth year, where he learned that he was someone very special and gifted in a way, due to a spell having misfired, causing him to be in the hospital wing for a day or two with total blindness for that moment in time.
He could feel how his body was slowly beginning to heal, how his eyes seemed to prickle slightly, whispers coming to his ears all of a sudden, his mind filling itself with information the longer that he kept his head cool and collected, the knowledge coming all of a sudden, without any manner of though process triggering it. He learned most of the things that were told to him, the voices in his head telling him that he'd be a great Warlock, that he'd be the most powerful since a being from another world, that he would be the one that would make the Master revived again. Harry didn't tryust the voices, knowing that they could be Voldemort, though something told him that he was not getting any messages from Voldemort, though some overheard conversation made him think about the fact that Umbridge was looking for a way to torment him further, giving him no option then to use one of the spells that the voices were talking about.
When he was talking to Ron, the voices in his head giving him advice as of how to deal with the boy, making him feel slightly odd as he followed the advice. "Yes Ron, I'm fine. It was only a bit of light that robbed me of my sight for the rest of the day, and being blind does have its advantages."
Or see how the girl is making a funny face at you, probably because she thinks you are different now. Who are you? In your mind, we are the voices, in your blood, we are your power. What is that supposed to mean? Are you within my body? Yes and no child. We are neither in your body or outside, existing in the Twisting Nether for the service of our Master Sargeras. I don't want anything to do with that master of yours! Yes you will… I won´t be chained by any beast that obeys a Master! I am my own Master, now be silent!Yes Master…Good…
Harry sighed a sigh of relief as he could see the light once again, feeling how a shadow had been cast over his thinking. Even his dreams had been odd, being of blood and gore being tossed into the air by strange creatures which looked to be hair on legs, with odd red flesh glowing slightly as they attacked a being, draining the magic from the pores and absorbing it without any problem.
He searched for a secluded spot, knowledge and an urge coming to his body as he began to draw a circle of summoning with his wand, his mouth forming the incantation, whether he wanted it or not. Once the circle was completed, he spilled some blood on it, looking at it as it began to glow and a massive form appeared within the circle, horns atop of its head, a glare coming from eye sockets that seemed to be very malignant towards him. "Why have you called me here, impudent mortal? Are you the one that they call the Prophesized One, to free the Master?"
The Demon that stood in the circle wore a breastplate made out of some strange armor, which seemed to be something like ebony, reflecting no light but absorbing it. It seemed to be shaped more in the form of a man, while the body definitively was female, breasts showing that it was, along with the fact that the mouth seemed to be having a bit of a feminine tone to it, the big horns on the back of the Demon's head making him feel a bit nervous, as were the wings on the back of the Demoness, which clearly showed that it would have enough time to evade his spells should she fight in the air. There were hoofs from the Demon that seemed to clatter slightly and he narrowed his eyes.
"You must be the Demon that put its blood in my ancestor's veins. Tell me something about yourself and I may release you." The Demon seemed not to like that as it snarled and then tried to move out of the circle, how it was stopped Harry didn't know, but it was thrown back to the middle of the circle, landing on its ass. "You are one of the Nathrezim, right? I heard about your kind from the voices. You worship a Demon named Sargeras, who sealed you in a prison, right? So, tell me something about yourself and your mission and I will see whether I accept or not.
Harry's motivation for this course of action was simple: he wanted to defend himself from anyone who wanted to cause him harm, using any resources to get the help he needed, even if he had to make a deal with the devil, or demon in this case.
"Alright, since you seem to have trapped me here pretty well, I shall give you my name. Zerrissa the black hearted." Harry nodded, looking at the Demon and then giving a small smile, the voices in his head being oddly silent. "Harry Potter, pleased to meet you, Zerissa. You were merely something I summoned to test if it really worked and that it wasn't a dream brought on by a spell effect. Goodbye." He began to mutter the words of banishment in parseltongue, looking at the Demon who began to look fairly panicked, well, as panicked as a being of untold demonic darkness could be.
Harry could hear the whispers in his head telling him that this Demon was a Dreadlord and that to dominate one would give him much status, something which he didn't want, but the idea of a servant did sound appealing to him. He motioned for her binding spell and then hissed the last parts of the spell, to instead of banishing the Demon like originally planned, enslaving it with a very powerful enslavement charm, which was backed by his magic and a great deal of blood that began to stream out of his body, being still weak from the initial summoning and now having a great deal of blood streaming out of it.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING? BINDING? NO!" a shrill cry was the answer as the spell of binding took effect, rendering her will under his control, having managed a feat which no other warlock could attest to: He had enslaved a Dreadlord, or Dreadlady, as seemed to be the case.
"What is it that you require of me, My Master?" a submissive voice came from the Demon, who hung her head low, knowing that it wouldn't help to fight the enslavement due to one element, the blood binding them together on a level that was different from anything she had encountered before. She cursed herself for giving her blood to one of the Humans, but the damage had been done… she was enslaved, a slave to her new master's desires.
I wrote this with a massive head ache. Do take that into account. Reviews will be liked since i know that this is crap and is amongst the worst i have written.
Demon God of Chaos