Yo. Another overdone idea I came up with last summer, that I just had to do. Warnings won't be repeated in each chapter, unless a trigger warning is needed, so take note of them now.
Warning: Mentions of abuse/rape-I don't condone either of those, and have never suffered from abuse this bad, so this is merely my imagination at work. Mentions of self-harm/suicide attempt(s). Yaoi/Slash and Het pairings. Twincest. Oh, Dark!Harry.
Bashing: AD, AW, MW, PW, RW, GW, HG. Possible Order/Light members.
Pairings: TMRxHP/LVxHP, LMxSS, RLxSB, FWxGW, more once decided.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters...
Trigger Warning for end of this chapter! Look for the words in the *s!
The Dark Lord Voldemort, or Tom Marvolo Riddle, better known as You-Know-Who and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, was seated on his throne in the ball room of his manor. He was in the middle of conducting a meeting with his Inner Circle Death Eaters.
Voldemort was not in the best of moods right now. The Ministry of Magic, after an entire year, was finally acknowledging his return. He despised that. It had been much easier when they had been refusing to accept the truth of his return. Now however, everyone was on guard, listening to Dumbledore and his foolish Order of the Phoenix.
"My Lord! My Lor-agh!" One of the lesser Death Eaters rushed into the room yelling and not even waiting to be told to enter. He found himself on the floor, writhing under the pain of a silent, yet furious Cruciatus Curse.
When the snake-like man felt the insolent fool had learned his lesson, he released the curse. "What?" he questioned, irritation clear in his voice.
The Death Eater slowly clambered to his feet, shaking visibly. He bowed deeply before speaking, obviously having gotten the message for his previous insolence. No one disturbed the Dark Lord. Ever. "M-my Lord," he began shakily, "t-there's an owl flying around the manor. I-it has a letter, b-but won't let anyone near enough to see who it's for."
Crimson slits narrowed. "You interrupted me for thisss? It isss an owl, leave it be." Though he wasn't going to say it, Voldemort did wonder how the owl had gotten past some of the wards he had set up. Strange.
"Y-yes, my Lord!"
The words has barely left the coward's mouth, when a snow white owl suddenly flew into the room, where it circled around for a moment before landing on the arm of Voldemort's throne. Looking up from the owl, he noticed a pair of onyx eyes widen from beneath a Death Eater mask. "Sssomething you wish to sssay, Ssseverusss?"
Said man bowed carefully before speaking. "I believe that owl belongs to Potter, my Lord."
Those slit-like eyes narrowed once more. "Potter?" he repeated slowly.
Severus inclined his head. "Yes, my Lord. I cannot be positive, but after seeing the bird many times since the boy's first year, I am quite sure it belongs to him."
Voldemort refocused on the owl, who hooted at him once, the sound muffled by the letter clamped in the bird's beak. He raised a long fingered, pale, sharp nailed hand to take the letter, and the owl gave him an urgent sounding hoot, as if encouraging him to quickly read.
The first thing the Dark Lord noticed upon unfolding the letter was the spatters of blood across the parchment. It also seemed to have been written in a rush, if the messy scrawl was anything to go by. Was this really a letter from the Potter boy? Why would he be writing to him anyway? When the owl perched on the arm of his throne hooted once more, this time going as far as to even peck his spare hand impatiently, he finally began to read the letter.
Voldemort,
Wow, okay, this has got be the weirdest thing I've ever done. I know you're probably wondering why I'm writing to you, right? Well, I just wanted to let you know that I won't be helping the Light any more. Don't take this the wrong way. I'm not planning on helping you either. I'm done with this war. I've had enough.
I'm through being the Boy-Who-Lived, the Golden Boy, the Boy Wonder, the Saviour, and whatever else I'm being called. I'm through being lied to and being deceived by people I thought I could trust.
Oh, by the way, you should stop focusing on the whole prophecy thing. It's a fake. Yeah, I bet you didn't see that coming. I sure as hell didn't.
Anyway, you can find me at my Aunt and Uncle's home (I'm sure you know where it is), but it'll already be too late by then. You don't have to worry about the Blood Wards though. They haven't existed since my first year at Hogwarts, and even if they did, you would be able to get through them just fine since you have my blood in you and all. That surprised you too, didn't it? Yeah, the wards were gone before I even turned twelve, and no, Dumbledore didn't tell me about any of this.
Well, have fun with the rest of the war. I'm sure you'll fine someone new to obsess over instead of me.
Torture Wormtail a little for me, will you? Seriously, he really fucking deserves it. And if at all possible, do you think you can try not to hurt Bill, Charlie, Fred and George Weasley, Remus Lupin, Neville Longbottom, and Luna Lovegood? I don't particularly give a damn about anyone else, and you can do whatever the hell you please to the rest of them. But could you just go easy on these seven? Please?
Good luck with the war!
Harry James Potter
Even after he finished reading, Voldemort just stared at the parchment before him, unsure of what to think. He looked at the snowy owl when it pecked him again, hooting once more, amber eyes almost...pleading? "Doesss he need help?" he asked the owl for some bizarre reason. As if the owl understood him anyway. But the owl hooted again, almost insistently, bobbing its feathery head.
Voldemort looked at his Death Eaters. They were all watching him curiously. He sighed inwardly, aware of what the owl wanted him to do, but unsure of whether he wanted to do so or not. "Ssseverusss, Luciusss, Narcisssa, Bellatrix, Rodolphusss, remain. The rest of you are disssmisssed."
His currently unwanted followers cleared out, and once the doors closed behind them, Voldemort got to his feet, allowing the letter to flutter down onto his recently vacated seat. "We are going to get Potter," he announced, gauging the expressions in the eyes of those he was speaking to. They all simply looked confused. "Let usss depart." He left no room for an argument, and walked out of the room, aware the others were following him silently.
Reaching the border of the many wards placed around the manor, the group Disapparated as one, all focusing on the destination of Privet Drive in Little Whinging, Surrey...
When the group arrived at the rapidly darkening street, Voldemort turned to look at his spy. "Who will be on guard right now, Ssseverusss?"
"Fletcher, which likely means no one," replied the other man immediately.
The crimson eyed snake-man nodded once. "Check anyway."
"Yes, my Lord." Inclining his head, Severus walked down the street at a brisk pace, tapping himself with the tip of his wand to pull up a glamour, covering his Death Eater robes and mask. A minute later he returned, swiftly removing the glamour. "As expected, he is not there."
"Then let usss go." Voldemort led his small group of followers down over to Number Four, stopping just shy of where the wards should have begun. "Luciusss, Rodulphusss, check for the wardsss," he commanded, purposely choosing the two who knew wards the best.
The two men began waving their wands in various patterns, muttering different spells. Frowns appeared on both their faces, not that they could be seen, and after a moment they fell silent, lowering their wands, obvious confusion visible in their eyes, despite the rest of the faces being concealed beneath their masks.
"The protection wards are not there," said Rodolphus, sounding surprised.
"We can easily enter without detection. If we avoid using our wands, and keep to non-verbal spells, then no one will be the wiser," added Lucius, sounding just as surprised.
The boy was right. Nodding, Voldemort led the way up the walk, stopping in front of the door. With a flick of his wrist the lock clicked, and the Dark Lord grabbed the handle to push open the door. The group entered the house without hindrance, and found Harry Potter's relatives in the sitting room, laughing joyously at something on the television. Three Stunners* later, the Dursleys were down and out, unaware of what hit them.
"Sssplit up and find Potter. No one isss to harm him." he waited for the acknowledgements, then made his way up the stairs to the second floor, figuring he would find Potter in his bedroom, which was very likely up there. He was disgusted with the annoyingly clean house. While clean was good, everything was so well maintained that things nearly sparkled, and the disgusting scent of lemon polish seemed to permanently permeate throughout the small building, reminding the Dark Lord of the Light's Leader and his damned lemon drops.
Vaguely noting the photographs lining the wall, Voldemort quickly realized that none of them were of Potter. This was strange, as Severus' accounts of Potter's home life consisted of him being spoiled and pampered. Why wouldn't his picture be on the wall with the rest of his family? For that matter, he couldn't see James or Lily Potter either. Was this not the Potter woman's sister's home? Why would the aunt not want photographs of her deceased, younger sister?
Ascending the staircase, the first door to his right caught Voldemort's attention immediately. There were more locks than necessary on the door, going from the ceiling all the way down to the floor, and at the bottom there was a pet door. Voldemort stared for a moment, wondering what could possibly be in there that Potter's relatives clearly wished to keep hidden or at least locked up.
He unlocked the door magically, then cautiously pushed it open. The Dark Lord was, shockingly, caught off guard. The smell in the small room was overwhelming; sweat, blood, stale sex, and a hint of fresh ink. But the sight was far worse than the smell. There was so much blood. Not only were there puddles on the floor, there were streaks and splatters all over the walls and even the ceiling. Most was old and dry.
A spell on a mysterious white substance on the floor told him it was semen. The spatter of ink on the ragged bed sheet in front of the bared window told him that Potter had been in this room when he had written that letter; the ink was still wet. That owl must have flown very quickly to reach him.
"Sweet Circe!"
Narcissa's exclamation brought Voldemort back downstairs, where he found his Death Eaters crowded in front of the cupboard under the stairs. The blonde witch was kneeling in front of the open cupboard door, and all five of them seemed to be in shock, even the ones who never normally showed emotion. Voldemort approached, indicating that Narcissa move away so that he could see.
*Trigger Warning*
Kneeling down to get a better view, his eyes widened, well, as much as slits could. Inside the small space of the cupboard, he saw a naked, bloody, and bruised Harry Potter. He was curled up on his side since he couldn't fit any other way. A knife lay by his hands, and there was a large pool of blood around him. The boy had slit his writs.
*Warning End*
"Salazar," muttered Voldemort in shock, the name absently coming out in Parseltongue. Flicking his wrist, he managed to levitate Potter out of the cupboard. He didn't have to do more than turn his gaze on Narcissa for her place the rather small teen in a sort of stasis that most Healers used. They didn't have the time or resources to heal him right then and there.
Summoning all of Potter's things, they shrank them down, and Voldemort turned to look at Severus, Lucius, Bellatrix, and Rodolphus. "Get hisss relativesss. Do not harm them. Put them in the dungeon. I will deal with them later. Isss that underssstood?"
There was a chorus of "Yes, my Lord," and the four were quick to bind and gag the two overweight males, and the near underweight woman. Leaving the house, Voldemort turned his wand to the sky. "Morsmordre!" His Mark erupted in the sky, directly over the so called safe house of the Boy-Who-Lived.
With the glowing green Dark Mark reflecting in their eyes, the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters vanished into the night, taking Harry Potter and his relatives with them...
*Anyone else thinking of a Stone Cold Stunner?
And that's the end of this bit. What do you think? Chapter lengths will vary. Updates will be on the slower side due to constant writer's block. Feel free to ask any questions. I'm open to suggestions and ideas. Looking forward to reviews! Laterz!