Dear readers,

Shocking I know! Two chapters so close together! I had the muse.

This chapter will have some darker things, by the way, which include murder, sacrifice and the dursleys getting what they deserve.

On with the show.

Love, shallograves.

I did...kinda nothing this time, shallograve is gettng better so I just formatted and captialized some stuff. I'm so proud~ Anyways enjoy!

- Arekkusu-san

"Fear is all I need to be whole."

Warnings: Murder, past abuse, mentions of torture, torture and sacrifice.

Everything was quiet on privet drive, the night was dark and the people of the drive had been asleep for a long time now. Except for Dudley Dursley, the once fat boy sitting in his bed as he mourned the little boy who had lived in the cupboard under the stairs. His father had returned home that night, obviously drunk, hours after he had taken off with Harry. With no Harry in sight.

His mother didn't seem to notice, she only smiled and helped him take off his coat and then lead him to bed.

They sickened him, the two of them. They made him sick to his stomach, how could they act like nothing was wrong? He had long since knew his father wasn't the man he'd thought of him as. He was callous and crude, he thought he was normal when there was nothing normal about him. He thought the magic harry possessed was abnormal, and disgusting.

Oh the shock they would find when they realized not all of it was Harry's magic.

Dudley had been eleven for a year, but no letter came and no letter would ever come. Dumbledore had seen the older child's magic and bound it, the best he could. He'd made him something of a squib, or he would have if Harry's presence, his magic, hadn't unbound it a few weeks after his birthday. They had been having one of their talks, both of them shoved in the cupboard and whispering about school, or well, dudley teaching harry his schooling. His parents hadn't thought it needed that harry continue with school, so his education was very cut off.

They had been learning how to write in cursive, something Harry sucked at, his hands shook since he had gotten too frustrated and threw the pen he'd been writing with. Dudley was used to this, Harry always got too impatient when it came to learning the practical things his body couldn't handle because of the abuse. His hands shook too much, his writing suffered because of it. But Dudley never gave up, picking up the pencil and helping harry hold it as they practiced their Q's.

As they hands met, Dudley yelped, pain lancing up his arms and up into his head. His vision blurred and by the time he shook it off, Harry was in a fit, trying to help but no quite knowing how. Smiling at his younger cousin, he calmed him down and went back to work.

But ever since then, weird things happened to Dudley that was always blamed on Harry, even when Harry wasn't anywhere near him.

It had been Harry who figured it out, that he'd made his cousin a freak. He'd cried for an hour before Dudley had been able to calm him down, shushing him and cradling him to his chest. They'd fallen asleep like that, Dudley barely able to sneak out of the room before sunrise and his mother waking up.

His mother, who in his eyes, deserved to die almost as much as his father did.

And he knew how he would make them pay.

It had come an hour ago, the letter which was clutched in the boys hands. It was wrinkled from the treatment and the writing on it threw his cursive to shame but he knew what it said. Somebody had found his cousin, and he was alive. But they wanted revenge for what his father did. It was addressed to him, which was odd but assumed they must have been told that he was friends with his cousin. He wasn't horrible to him like he pretended to be around his mother and father.

His response had been quick, and he'd sent it with the bird, the letter telling him it was a trained bird.

He was awaiting them when there was three sharp pops, just the like the letter said. Quickly, he gathered the bag he'd made for this, including the money he'd been saving up since he was old enough to know he'd have to leave one day with harry. He'd been saving up for an apartment for the two of them, and he'd gotten enough almost a year ago but he knew he had to wait until he was sixteen. Or no one would sell to him.

Hurrying downstairs, he opened the door to the house, smiling at the three cloaked figures who stood and waited for him to let them in.

"I, Dudley Dursley, nephew of Lily Evans potter, give you permission to enter this house." There was a shimmer around the house that made him gasp before the tallest man of the group walked up, his face obscured by the cloak.

"Thank you young Dudley. Please hold this. "Dudley nodded, holding the book which was shoved into his hands. The men went into the house and up the stairs while the women pulled out a stick, and began to cast. Dudley watched in awe as the furniture disappeared and a huge cauldron replaced them. A fire was lit underneath it, and he shut the door, not wanting the neighbors to see.

"Your no muggle, boy. " The voice rang through his head and he whipped around, trying to find the source. With confusion, he felt the memories of the past decade being pulled up, sorted through, even ones he didn't even remember. The voice growled, making him flinch as his head started to hurt.

"Give the book to the woman. "Dudley knew better than to argue with the angry sounding voice, which sounded as if there was two voices in his head.

The woman took the book, her hood falling back as she pulled it, making him gasp at her beauty. From upstairs, there was a clamor before two floating bodies were floated down. The taller man stopped, growling himself before he yanked his hood down.

"Nacrissa! Surely you remember we were not going to show our faces to the boy. "He gave Dudley a sideways glance, making the woman huff and toss the book to him.

"The boy isn't a muggle, Lucius my love. Just another one of Dumbledore's transgressions have come to light. He is a Nivah, a sleeping one but a Nivah at that. "She smiled at the confused look on dudleys face, the beautiful Nacrissa making him blush. Lucius caught the book and growled again, handing it to the only cloaked man left as he glided gracefully to dudley. Placing a hand on his cheek, they both gasped as a zap made Lucius stumble back, his hand red as if burned.

"Harry's magic is protecting him, the boy will be spared. Nacrissa, is the potion ready?" Dudley looked confused as Nacrissa handed the man a rather nasty looking green concoction to the man, who held her hand after taking the potion. Laying a kiss to it, his eyes flickered to dudley before he turned his attention to the young man fully. "I must warn you, if you stay in this room, then you will see your parents die. Try and get in the way, and we will have no choice but to kill you as well."

"Then I'll be in my room. "Dudley broke off the man's word, gathering his bag and heading to the stairs with a disgusted look sent to the people he called mother and father. Looking back, he smiled. "make them suffer. "

Tom liked this boy.

The room lit up with the fires glow, the two bound muggles struggling against their binds as the three magical beings chanted. The words were unrecognizable to the two of them, but the woman of the pair knew to be scared. She had seen and heard things like this going on, the dark magic lily had both feared and coveted. She had once called herself a Nivah, not that the word had any meaning to petunia at the time. She had been awake when her son had told them to make them suffer, and she knew they would.

Oh gods.

Petunia watched as they each cut into their hands, blood spilling into the cauldron before they came to her. A beautiful creature who she knew was a woman bent down, an ugly sneer making her look dangerous, hatred and disgust filling her eyes.

"The ritual takes three hours, but don't worry, you'll be alive for every second of it. As your body burns and melts away you'll be alive for it. My lord thinks it would be a fitting punishment for one who just stood by and let this fat disgusting thing almost kill your nephew but of course the ritual only works if we use a male. "She turned her eyes to her husband, delight filling them. Getting up, she flicked her wand and the man who petunia loved was sent into the bubbling cauldron.

The book followed.

The screaming was the worse, her husband's screams making her cry, not for her husband but for herself. What would they do with her? She knew what they were, death eaters, the kind the man had warned them about. But how they had gotten into their house was beyond her. But in the back of her mind, she knew. Her son, her baby boy, had given them to these monsters.

Three hours, and the screams finally stopped.

Three sets of hands reached in, pulling out what couldn't have been a boy more than fifteen. He was muscled, and quite handsome, his eyes closed as the three magicals wiped the boy down. Much like a newborn.

"petunia dursley. "The sound of the boy's voice was ancient, ground out and hollow of emotion. It sent fear racing up and down her spine, the boys eyes opening and letting her lock gazes with the devil.

Petunia screamed.

"How delightful! " Tom laughed, watching the woman who was smart enough to be scared. The sounds of her shrieks were music to his ears, not for the fear which his Daemon relished in, but for the sound of it. How long had it been since he'd heard anything through his own ears, and that brought his hands to his ears, feeling the appendages he had once taken for granted.

"Oh yes, make her scream. " The daemon growled from where it was lurking. Archemise had to admit that riddle, the more sane version of his host, was almost passable. It had been almost as long as riddle since he'd heard a sound, and to the dark daemon, the sound of screaming was Christmas.

"We will, my friend. " Tom smiled, his lips stretching across his face, making the woman whimper. Oh this was delicious, her fear filling the room and giving him something to feed on. It had been so long since he'd fed on fear.

Daemons were like dementors in a way, feeding on fear instead of happiness. But unlike happiness, there was a never ending supply of fear that could be made, happiness was fleeting.

Letting out a growl, he stepped forward and relished in the screams he produced from the woman.

It was almost two hours later than tom was satisfied, the thing that had once been a woman laying twitching in a corner, giving him the ache of satisfaction. It had been to long since he'd reduced someone to nothing, the woman couldn't even remember her own name except for his, which she was repeating over and over again.

"Are you done now tom?" Narcissa asked, running a hand through his hair lovingly. He nodded, leaning into the woman's touch before looking towards the stairs.

"Go get the boy. He's coming with us. Lucius, severus, take care of the mess, leave nothing but the woman, and return it back to normal. " He grabbed the cloak which had been laid out for him. He shifted, it swamping him uncomfortably. He made a mental note to track down his now self, and get his wand back.

"I have to go find my mates."