Thanks for the reviews, dearies. Much appreciated. This story is moving along faster than I expected. I chose the name Stephen because I like it. So I'll call him Stephen from here on forward. I would really have liked the name Maximilian or Christof, though.

Been really stressed so my apologies if this chapter is not up to scratch. It's SEMBREAK!!! But I'm still sleeping like an insomniac at twelve at night.

Disclaimer: The great JK Rowling owns Harry Potter. I am merely an ardent worshiper.

THE DARK CHRONICLES

Chapter Six: Living With The Darkness

A strange sort of silence seemed to cloak the place, Stephen decided as he quietly shut the door of his bedroom behind him. It wasn't oppressive, nor was it eerie. It just seemed... right. His feet scuffled as he walked down the corridor, trying to recall whether it was the same one he had walked down on yesterday. He really wanted to return to the library and practice reading.

Uncertain, he stopped at a place where the corridor branched off to the left and to the right. He didn't think this had been here yesterday. But then again, he couldn't really be sure. Hesitantly, he chose the right corridor and proceeded to walk down there.

Stephen wondered whether it was just himself, the Dark Lord and Nagini who lived in this huge place. Aside from the house elves, he didn't think he'd seen anyone else here. It was kind of weird, because the huge place was definitely too big for just three of them and a couple of house elves.

Fifteen minutes later, he stopped in the middle of the corridor, completely bewildered. He had no idea where he was. Stephen turned to look around.

"Er, can anyone help me please?" he spoke tentatively but somewhat loudly.

As expeced, only silence answered. "Anyone?" louder this time.

"Hellooooooo!" Stephen's voice carried down the corridor but no one replied.

"Oh wonderful." Annoyed and more than a bit scared though he didn't want to admit it, the boy leaned back against the cold stone wall.

And he fell bum first on the ground when the wall caved in behind him. Wide-eyed, Stephen scrambled up. The portion of the wall that had caved in revealed a secret passageway. It extended a ways inside but due to the lack of light, Stephen couldn't see where or even if it ended. For a moment, the boy struggled. To go or not to go?

With a determined shrug of his small shoulders, though, he stepped inside. The passageway immediately shut behind him and plunged him in darkness. His eyes widened but before he could start screaming in panic, torches suddenly flickered with light at the side of the walls. Nervously, Stephen took a step forward. Well, he was here wasn't he? He might as well see it through to the end. If this tunnel had an end.

Gulping, Stephen walked on.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

It was a while before he reached the end of the passageway. He noted that torches didn't light the end of the passageway and he had to force himself to trudge on in darkness. The passageway became even narrower until he finally had to crawl. When he next looked up, though, he saw light pouring in from what was most probably the end of the passageway.

Grinning, Stephen crawled over to it. The passageway ended in a small, circular glass window. The boy crouched near it and looked out the window. What he saw made him freeze.

The window was overlooking a huge room. It was probably five times as large as the Longbottom ballroom. The room was slightly circular and - like the rest of the manor - it was richly and darkly elegant. The coloring was in tasteful tones of forest green and black marble. There were numerous small windows (like the one Stephen was looking out of) near the ceiling. A magnificent chandelier lent the room a muted light. Black robed figures with white masks - the ones in the Longbottom residence! - were gathering inside the said room. And in a chair atop a dais sat the Dark Lord.

Stephen paled somewhat. It had completely slipped his mind. Those black-robed people were with Lord Voldemort! The boy shifted to a more comfortable position as he watched Voldemort signal to his Death Eaters. Immediately, the hushed conversations stopped and all the Death Eaters hurried to their Lord and bowed down before him.

"Failure is not something I tolerate very well," Stephen shivered at the iciness in Voldemort's tone. "And you have all failed me in the last attack against the blasted Order."

Underneath their masks, the Death Eaters paled. They knew what was coming. Failure always equaled punishment.

Stephen felt paralyzed as the round of Cruciatus curses started. Voldemort targeted his Inner Circle first. Unbeknownst to the small boy, he had started shaking and sweating at the sight of the Cruciatus being administered. Images of his own torture flashed through his mind and his throat felt dry. Stephen didn't know for how long the Death Eaters' screams lasted. It seemed long enough.

When Voldemort pulled the curse away at last, Stephen saw most of the Death Eaters were shivering violently from the aftermath. But they still bowed down before Voldemort.

It was then that the young boy learned his first lesson: pain ignites fear, fear ignites control. For you to control someone, they had to fear you. For them to fear you, you had to break them. A shadow passed in the young boy's green eyes as this thought implanted itself firmly in his brain.

Most of Stephen's shock had passed by the time Voldemort started torturing the Death Eaters not in his Inner Circle. Somehow, their punishment was worse. Other Dark curses, interspersed with the Cruciatus, was what the Dark Lord employed. Stephen merely sat there, the images burning into his mind.

The Inner Circle Death Eaters were watching as Voldemort punished the rest. Severus Snape in particular was puzzled. He knew for a fact that the Dark Lord was displeased. This mission had been planned for months and with such great secrecy Snape had not even had time to report it to Dumbledore. And with it's failure, all the Death Eaters expected Voldemort's wrath to be great. But this... the Dark Lord was punishing them harshly, yes, but there had been many harsher punishments. It was almost like Voldemort was punishing them for sport and not because he was really that angry. Snape caught himself and nearly laughed at the absurdity of the thought.

Of course Snape had no way of knowing that even though they failed, the Dark Lord was really somewhat pleased they had obtained Stephen.

Voldemort was in the middle of casting a Shatter Hex when a sudden flash of green light behind one of the small, circular windows caught Snape's attention. He jerked his head up. The light had flashed for only a moment but Snape knew what he had seen.

He turned to the Dark Lord only to see that Voldemort had seen the light, too. Voldemort paused only slightly, imperceptibly, then resumed back to torture.

Snape was astonished. Surely Voldemort would want to see what the light was? But he didn't. Snape felt disturbed. Something was going on here.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Stephen gulped as he replaced his wand inside his robes. It had accidentally fallen off and given off the green light. The boy was sure one of the masked men had seen him. He wasn't sure if the Dark Lord had. He sincerely hoped not.

"I hope you learn your lesson this time, Death Eaters," Voldemort hissed as he kicked one who was still bleeding on the ground. "I will expect nothing less than victory the next time around."

Stephen watched mutely as the Dark Lord swept out of the room. It took a long time but soon the Death Eaters filtered out one by one, too. The little boy, though, merely sat there and let the scenes he had witnessed wash over him. He closed his eyes and leaned back against the stone wall. He didn't know how long he just sat there, which was why he was shocked when a sudden bright light filled the entire passageway. Frightened, Stephen backed up even more against the glass window.

"Boy, if you are there I expect you to get out here right now," he heard a familiar voice drawl.

Stephen didn't know whether to be relieved or apprehensive at hearing the Dark Lord's voice. Slowly, he crawled out of the narrow passageway and where the passageway was normal-sized, he saw Voldemort standing with his wand emitting the bright light.

"H-hey," Stephen grinned weakly.

The Dark Lord refrained from commenting. "I should assume then that you saw our little meeting?"

Stephen turned rigid. "W-were they your slaves?" he whispered softly.

A twisted smile from Voldemort. "Close enough. They are my followers, but little more than slaves really. It is only those in my Inner Circle who have some semblance of a brain."

"Why do they follow you?"

"Because they, like me, believe that the world should be rid of Light filth like the people who did those things to you. They look to me to make that happen so they follow me."

"But they are scared of you, too," Stephen observed. "You make sure they won't change their minds by scaring them."

The boy was perceptive. "Fear is a necessary tactic. That you will learn in time."

Stephen looked up at Voldemort and the Dark Lord grew uneasy as he realized the intensity was back in the boy's eyes. "Will you turn me into one of them?"

Voldemort forgot to breathe for a second. Did the child just ask that? "Of course not," he replied impatiently. "You are worth far more than that. That and I do not believe that you scare so easily. I doubt the same tactic would work on you, no matter how many Crucios I cast."

Stephen smiled sardonically at him. "You're right," he replied softly. "I don't scare easy."

Voldemort blinked and was silent for a moment. "Follow me. I cannot fathom how you ended up in this passageway in the first place. It was supposed to be secret."

Stephen made a face at him. "It was an accident. I was trying to find the library and I fell in."

The Dark Lord raised a brow. "The library? You know how to read then?"

"Of course!"

"Good," muttered Voldemort. "That's one thing you won't have to be taught." They emerged out of the passageway and as they left it, it shut on its own behind them. The Dark Lord strode purposefully to Stephen's rooms.

Stephen was right on his heels but the young boy stopped dead when he saw what was on his bed. "Are those mine?" he gaped.

Robes, shirts, trousers, socks, shoes, capes and other whatnot was piled high on his bed, on the sofa near the bed, and on the table near the bed. Two house elves bowed to Stephen and Voldemort and continued on their task of putting away the articles of clothing.

"Yes, of course. How did you expect to survive without clothes?"

Stephen approached the clothes and his face split into a big grin. "Thanks a lot, Thran!"

Silence, and then, "What did you call me?!"

Stephen blinked at Voldemort. "Thran," then he grinned widely again. It's a name I found in one of the books in the library. It means - "

"It means 'mentor' or more specifically 'one who shows the way'," Voldemort interrupted. He glared at Stephen. "To what do I owe this honor?" His voice was dripping with sarcasm.

Stephen shrugged, not picking up the sarcastic tone of the Dark Lord. "Because you're kind of showing me the way on how to control my 'tingle', right?"

Voldemort wondered whether one too many Crucios had permanently damaged the child's brain because he was clearly a tad insane. The Dark Lord decided to dismiss it for now. A thick tome appeared out of thin air. Voldemort grasped it and handed it to Stephen who nearly dropped it on account of its weight.

"What is this?" the boy gasped.

"It's a book on magic. As punishment for... spying on that gathering, boy - " Stephen scowled " - I will expect you to finish this book before your lessons start next week."

"WHAT?!"

"Are you complaining?" Voldemort asked ominously.

"Uh, no," Stephen gulped.

"Very well, then. I shall leave you to your reading."

And with that said, the Dark Lord now christened Than, left.

TBC

Voldemort's new name sort of came out of the blue. Thran does not really mean mentor or one who shows the way.

I'm thinking of uploading a new story. It's called Blood Key. But I'm still not sure... Should I go for it? And what the heck is a Mary Sue?

Coming up: Stephen meets teachers