Oddly enough, Voldemort just wanted to talk with Harry. Each night they talked, steering clear of topics that would make either of them nervous. It was rather soothing, actually, for both of them. Harry was given company and help with studying both the parseltongue book as well as the more advanced spells he was looking into, and Voldemort, after some prodding from Harry, had someone to converse with that wasn't afraid of him. Harry would never have pegged Voldemort for being so...human.
Mid-August Harry was given two very different surprises, one good and the other bad.
A letter arrived with the morning post and his breakfast. The note told him that, due to the fact that the wizarding world was still howling for his blood, he would be staying safely in the muggle realm with his relatives, signed Headmaster Ablus Dumbledore.
The good surprise was when he went to Diagon Alley. That morning, he had a rather extensive disguise kit sent to him. It included potions, spells, charms, various enchanted pieces of jewelry, as well as a surprising amount of muggle makeup. The instructions that came with it told him to altar his face as much as possible with muggle makeup and prosthetic pieces, then add on the charms and magical paraphernalia.
Harry had a wonderful time experimenting with warts. noses, scars, lips, even a few contacts for him that were in different colors. He didn't know where Voldemort got his prescription from, but he was very grateful. A few hours of playing with his face and body, he settled on a large beak of a nose that reminded him of Snape, a piece of latex to cover his famous scar, stained his skin a few shades darker and gave himself mud-brown eyes. He also put on a chestnut blonde wig that reached his back, pulling it into a loose ponytail. His experimentation with himself worked well enough that he merely needed to add two charms to his entourage- one to scramble his scent and another to change his voice a few octaves lower.
He was shocked to find, in the bottom of the chest (which contained a lot more space inside than the outside of the chest implied) well-tailored wizarding robes in his size as well as larger, shoes of different heel sizes to give the illusion of him being taller, lord canes from different obscure houses- according to the note - and rings to match the canes. Harry picked out black cut robes, some platformed shoes to give him another two inches of height, and a cane and ring that, surprisingly, matched the necklace that had been given on his birthday.
He took the enclosed portkey to the Leaky Cauldron, showing up in one of the private rooms. Upon exiting, unfortunately, he saw why Dumbledore had made the decision he had. There were posters everywhere calling him the next dark lord. People had miniature dolls they were selling that customers could rip apart, curse, do whatever they wished. They even had places to put his hair or nail cuttings, anything physical of his, to carry the curse, much like a voodoo doll.
Disturbed, Harry kept his head down and walked quickly to the bank.
After a rather gut-wrenching trip to what Harry assumed was the bottom of Gringott's, he was able to open the vault. Handing his key to them had brought a few glances from the goblins, but that didn't stop them from taking him to the carts. And, once he opened the door, Harry understood why.
That night, he waltzed into the room at Riddle Manor, angry as all hell but not at Voldemort himself.
"Dragon eggs!?" he said, incredulous, as Voldemort merely raised an eyebrow. "You gave me dragon eggs?" He flopped down, noting now how the other two gifts tied in with his newest acquisitions.
"I thought you would like them. Just be careful- if I timed it correctly, they should hatch within the week."
Harry silently fumed, wondering what he was going to tell his relatives, wondering how he was going to raise seven dragons in the muggle world, wondering if he ought to leave and never come back. "I have to have constant warming charms on them because I don't have access to a fire."
Voldemort nodded, then narrowed his eyes. "You are angry."
Harry snapped his mouth shut, taking deep breaths, trying his best to school his features to show nothing. When he was calm again, he opened eyes that had closed at some point. He looked back at the quiet man across from him. "I won't be attending school this year."
"You must be joking, surely." Harry's face told Voldemort the truth. "You're not joking." He sat back heavily. "This is most troubling." Harry said nothing, but started when Voldemort continued. "I am truly, deeply sorry, my young man. Would I could help you and you would take it, I would."
Harry snorted. "You've helped me more than anyone else that has." They dropped in companionable silence, before Harry asked a question that had been eating at him. "Why do you do the things you do? Kill, hurt, destroy. What is it all for?"
Harry nearly thought You-Know-Who wouldn't answer.
"Tell me, Harry. Do you agree that the world will be encased in war and blood until either myself or the ministry, and consequently, Dumbledore, prevails?" Harry nodded. "It is human nature to have rulers and followers. Only an ignorant person would say that there is no such thing as a ruling class. The ministry is made up of rulers, the wizarding world follows; wizarding family patrons are the rulers, their children the followers. The only way to truly bring peace and change is to have one ruler, and that is what I intend to have- peace, and change."
Harry furrowed his brow. "But people aren't meant to be ruled, not really. I mean, we have free will for a reason, the Imperious curse is illegal for a reason. Besides, freewill breed the best creativity and improvements in the end."
"Is freedom worth all of the death, in the end?" Harry opened his mouth but Voldemort held up a hand. "Now, take a parent raising children. Here we have a ruler and followers. The parent has more power than the children, in this case, experience as power. Now, you may think that people are happy when they are free. But is a child happy when they burn themselves in the fire? The parent has the ability and experience to stop them, but didn't, because that would be stepping on the freewill of the child."
"That's different-"
"How is it different? The only way people are ever truly safe is if they are guided and watched over by those with more experience. They may not like it, but in some ways, servitude is what they need. In the case of parents and children, if left to their own freedom, the children will destroy themselves long before they reach adulthood." He paused, noting the pensive look on Harry's face. "As the adult, it is the parent's job to take responsibility of their child's well-being."
Harry shook his head. "The people we are talking about aren't children, though. They're adults, who should be able to make their own decisions. They don't need a ruler, a king, or a Master." A slight edge of bitterness crept into his voice as he looked at the self-proclaimed Dark Lord.
"Everyone needs a Master, even you and I do, whether that Master is another person, or drugs, or sex, or money, or even debt. If a person truly cares, they be sure to find a Master for the people that is kind or healthy for them. If a person truly cares, the it would be completely irresponsible to allow someone else to rule the people. Wouldn't you rather be a benevolent ruler in the end, even if now is a nightmarish hell, than allow a tyrant to take over and keep this never-ending war going?"
Harry bit his lip, then stood suddenly. "I have to go," he said quickly, his anger long forgotten.
Voldemort nodded. "You are welcome back any time, young man."
Harry sat up in bed moments later, his head spinning. He decided he had a lot to think about, and settled back to give his life - and himself - a long, hard look.
The next night saw them both facing one another, once again in the warm chairs by the fireplace, nothing but the fire crackling between them. It was Harry that eventually broke the silence.
"You're right. This war is senseless, the wizarding world is messed up, and I've done everything for them but asked for nothing. I'm tired of it, I'm tired of war, and I don't know what to do. But," he said, plowing on, "I don't agree with a lot of what you are doing, either. Which leaves me at an impasse, unless you have a suggestion."
Voldemort didn't smile, merely began to speak quietly. "Every person needs a right-hand man, a yin to yang, light to darkness. My followers are terrified of me. A right-hand man can't be afraid. Allow me to teach you, train you, to be that person. I will be willing to listen to you, to incorporate some of your ideas, to make some adjustments, without sacrificing my own ideals. In return, you will be considered my equal, and on that, I would give you my oath in exchange for an equivalent from you."
Silence reigned.
Harry had come to the uncomfortable conclusion that Dumbledore and Fudge were so far from Voldemort, they did much the same things as one another. How many people had died at the hands of any of them? While Voldemort had proven he hadn't gone after children, how many times had Fudge tried to go after the Slytherin children, just for being offspring of alleged Death Eaters? Had Dumbledore, in all his history that was hidden and never mentioned, ever had a child die, directly or indirectly? Did it matter, when he did whatever he wanted with Harry, including keeping secrets from him?
Not to mention the fact that all of Wizarding Britain, his friend apparently included, were calling for his blood. If anyone with one of those dolls got a hold of his skin, hair, blood, would they hesitate in using them to cause him pain? He was barely sixteen and they already thought him the next bane of the wizarding world.
But should he play right into what they expected? He couldn't bring himself to torture, he was fairly sure. And he wanted the world to be a better place. One where children weren't persecuted for being from a certain family, or a certain house, or even a certain blood type. A place where they didn't have to worry about muggles finding them, because they had no renegades or - even better - the muggle and wizarding world were brought together to live in harmony?
And wasn't it his responsibility, as someone who loved the wizarding world with all his being, with all of its wonder and magic giving hope to a child from a bad family, to help the world find peace and love for one another?
He looked up to Voldemort. "Teach me."
End of When Darkness Falls: Prologue
A/N: I'm trying to average 2k words/chapter, though I hope to have more...those may take a while to get up though.
The next chapter will have a time skip, so you will have to bear with me with all of the personality changes and stuff going on. It will all make sense in the end, I promise. Please find your thanks below:
Reviewers: Please keep the critiquing and ideas coming. They will greatly help my story improve- for example, what do you want to see in terms of the dragon eggs? Any other pets? What kind of followers do you think he should cultivate- human, like Voldemort, or magical, and if magical, what kind? Thank you for your answers, if you'd like to send them.
Story Followers: I'm glad you like the story enough to follow it- I hope I live up to your expectations. Thank you so much for following this.
Story Favoriters: I'll keep the updates coming. Thank you for giving me confidence to keep writing.
All readers: Thank you, thank you, thank you. I live off of your energy and enjoyment of my story- I am immensely grateful.
See you all tomorrow most likely, if not sooner.