Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or co. they are owned by JK Rowling. She owns the characters, I own this particular plot. I'm not making any money off of this, no malice intended, no infringement intended and so on etc. Also, if this is similar to any other fanfics, it was not intentional. As per usual, any original characters, theories about magic and anything not already known to JKR's HP world or general fandom is mine. I borrowed the concept of the Living Metal from Yuri Narushima's Planet Ladder so no; I do not own that concept.
A/N: Sorry about the wait, RL and I were having issues but now that everything's sorted here it is, 18 full pages worth! I hope you like it! Thank you for all the reviews!
Much love to Robyn and Allex who put up with my indecisiveness with this chapter!
Parseltongue, foreign words, letters/articles etc.
Telepathy
Character's thoughts
Emphasized words, headings,
Irreversible Destiny
By: SheWolfe7
Chapter IX
Change
All things change; nothing perishes.
-Ovid, Metamorphoses
The Kitchen
Number 12 Grimmauld Place, London UK
Monday the 18th of August 1997
4:20 AM
The room was filled with a smaller number of members and those who were present looked worse for wear. Voldemort's forces had struck, turning two Muggle towns to bloody ruin and destroying the majority of the grounds at Beauxbatons Academy. The Ministry was in havoc, the Defense League was rushing to and fro like a chicken with their head cut off and the Order was exhausted. Severus was snarling about not being informed of the obviously planned attack while Molly Weasley brought out pots of tea and coffee. Dumbledore stared into the distance, wondering where it was Harry had rushed off to the night before and if he was safe on his own. They would not know until he returned the following morning but his absence was worrying a large number of the Order.
"Where do you think Harry is? I wish we had a way to contact him!" Sirius growled pacing.
Alastor 'Mad Eye' Moody glanced sharply at Severus and then Dumbledore. "The question you should be asking is if he had anything to do with what happened this morning."
"You don't honestly think?!" Remus exclaimed, jumping to his feet.
"My Godson is no Death Eater scum!" Sirius roared, grey eyes cold.
Sturgis Podmore ran an agitated hand through his straw colored hair. "Moody didn't say that Potter was a Death Eater, Sirius. I don't think Harry would ever work with Voldemort but that doesn't mean that he couldn't have known about the attack and made arrangements to either be in a position to help or do something else. We don't know what he's up to really, who's to say that he doesn't know where Voldemort's headquarters is?"
"Potter could not know where the Dark Lord's headquarters is as even the Death Eaters do not know where exactly the mansion is located at! The only thing I am positive about is that the Dark Lord has two such headquarters and where they are is something that none of the Inner Circle has yet to guess or dare to ask." Severus practically shouted.
"Gentlemen!" Dumbledore intoned loudly as he raised a hand to silence them. "Please sit down and we will discuss this rationally, there is no use in trying to place blame on anyone in the Order."
Sirius shot Moody a dark look but nevertheless took a seat next to Remus and Snape was staring into his cup of tea as if it held all the answers of the universe.
"Now I believe that Sturgis has a point that does need to be discussed. We do not know very much at all about what exactly Harry has learned during his two years at Arcanum. What we do know so far is that Harry is an excellent dueler and very well versed in Light and Dark magics. He receives correspondence by phoenix or occamy, periodically vanishes to meet up with his friends from Arcanum, is scheduled to visit Mr. Ollivander every fortnight and has little or no contact with anyone within this house outside of meals and the occasional duel." Dumbledore glanced around the table. "I would venture a guess that Harry knows quite a bit more about what the current situation with Voldemort is than even most of Ministry. I am beginning to wonder if he does not have his own network of informants supplying him with information and either books or artifacts."
Charlie Weasley shook his head. "But why would Harry go through all that effort?"
"He's told us flat out that he doesn't trust us," Hestia Jones reminded everyone. "The fact that he would go to such lengths probably shouldn't surprise us."
Sirius sighed. "He's become overcautious but that's truly no one's fault but our own. How many times have we told him to do something without explaining why? No, I'm not surprised but my next question would be who is supplying him with the information and why?"
"No way to know unless we ask and we deserve answers! The boy's not the only one risking his neck, if he has information he should be sharing." Moody said with a glare.
Dumbledore nodded, wondering where he had gone wrong. "We will ask him when he returns tomorrow."
Dining Room
Snape Manor, Cumbria UK
Tuesday the 19th of August 1997
7:45 AM
Severus Snape looked up from his newspaper before glancing over at the clock; his son hadn't yet come down from his bedroom. With a sigh he got up to check on his son who was hopefully just running late or sleeping in though the later was unlikely. If Cyriacus hadn't mentioned that being a quarter Incubi made him need less sleep, Severus would have thought the younger man lived off of Sleep Suppressor Potions and Stimulants. Reaching the door, Severus knocked and listened for a response.
"Cyriacus?" Severus asked nearly pressing his ear against the door.
Nothing, with a snarl he began the tedious process of bringing down Cyriacus's wards. If that brat was just sleeping and made me come all this way… Severus thought just as he finished blasting his way through the final wards. The door unlocked with a click and Severus pushed it open. The bed was rumpled but there was no sign of his son, the blankets looked tangled but there did not seem to be any signs of a struggle.
"What a horrible way to start the morning," Severus muttered as he cast various Locating Spells which all came back with Unknown as the destination. "I'd best get in contact with the Dark Lord."
Fifteen minutes later, Severus was striding into the Dark Lord's Dining Hall. As usual, there were at least a hundred people dining the majority of which were Inner Circle. Everyone was dressed in their full Death Eater regalia but the masks that concealed their identities had morphed into a half-mask. The Dark Lord had cunningly charmed the new masks to alter the eye color, face and voice of the wearer so his servants could not be identified. The common Death Eaters wore the plain white masks while the Inner Circle wore silver and it had already been decided that the Elite would wear gold.
The Dark Lord's House Elves always had food in the Dining Hall, no matter the time of day as Death Eaters were always awake and about during all hours. A huge buffet table with all sorts of breakfast foods and steaming pots of coffee and tea, sat in the middle of the room surrounded by dozens of small tables which cozily sat four to six people. At the far end of the room was a longer table that sat fifty. The honor of sitting at this table was highly coveted by all and sundry but the only ones allowed to sit here were Inner Circle and the occasional common Death Eater.
Severus made his way directly to the Dark Lord, ignoring everyone else in favor of getting to his Lord and giving him the news of the disappearance of his current favorite. As odd as that sounded it was true, Cyriacus was very much the Dark Lord's favorite even if he was headstrong and barely polite or obedient. This fact puzzled much of the Inner Circle as the Dark Lord had never tolerated any kind of insolence from any of his servants before. For the Dark Lord to be going out of his way to at least attempt compromise with his former enemy made many insanely curious but most were wise enough to know that asking any questions would lead to tremendous amounts of pain. In the privacy of their suites or private dinners away from the prying eyes of the common Death Eaters they had often discussed it but no one had any sure ideas as to why the Dark Lord was behaving as he was.
Voldemort glanced up from his steak as he saw his Potions Master approaching. "Good morning Severus, what are you doing here so early this morning? Has it something to do with your panther?"
"I'm afraid that my panther has mysteriously vanished from its cage. It looks as if he's been gone during most of his confinement." said Severus cautiously, well aware that the common Death Eaters were listening.
"Have you tried Locating Spells?"
Severus nodded, "His status is showing as Unknown my Lord and the Tracer Spells have not detected anything."
"And the status of your wards?" demanded Voldemort as he quickly finished off his steak.
"There are no disturbances from the wards surrounding the Manor but the panther requires several special wards as you know."
Voldemort shoved away from the table. "I want all the Inner Circle gathered at Snape Manor before the end of the hour, you will see to alerting the others Lucius. Severus and I will go ahead and see how the wards were evaded."
Lucius nodded. "I will see to it immediately, my Lord."
"You have an hour and not a minute more," Voldemort warned before he and Severus hurried out of the room.
The Prince's Suite
Shadow Keep, First Sphere, Demon Realm
As Cyriacus regained consciousness, he dimly heard a sleepy murmur to his left. He felt groggy and confused but instinctually kept his body frozen in 'sleep'. Suddenly he remembered…he had gone up to bed, taken a shower and gone to sleep…then he'd woken up tied to a bed with Aristides leering at him…he'd taken the Potions Aristides had offered and begun Corrosion before the Potions stole his mind. How much time had passed since he had ingested the Potions and for that matter, why was he in his right mind so soon? There was no way he should have woken up with his mind totally his own unless a full week had passed and he knew only two days had passed. A quick feel of his magic revealed that he had broken through one Seal but a far stronger one had barely even been affected by his Corrosion. Before he could ponder anymore his stomach gave a lurch and demanded to be emptied.
Eyes snapping open, Cyriacus stumbled out of the bed trying to guess which of the five doors in the room might lead to a bathroom. Guessing randomly opening a door on the left he rushed over to a strange looking toilet and emptied his stomach. As he knelt in front of the toilet he became aware of a very familiar burning sensation in his back and chest. Merlin, what a time to need to Transform! Cyriacus thought heaving; well I suppose this explains why I'm so clear-headed. Apparently my body didn't take to this particular mixture of Potions and burned it out or more likely, I was born with some sort of natural defense against certain Potions. This is going to be a very bad day, I can already tell.
The sound of vomiting woke Aristides from the pleasant dream he had been having and after seeing that Cyriacus was not in his bed; he rolled on his side and glanced at the strange globe on his nightstand. Two and a half revolutions had passed since he'd given his lover the Potions and they would not wear off for another three revolutions. Now why would he be so ill so soon? Unless…? Aristides was grinning widely as he strode into the bathroom and wet a small washcloth and approached the violently ill quarter-Incubus.
"My poor love, is there anything I can get you?" Aristides purred.
Cyriacus managed a quick glare before another heave of his stomach forced him to turn back and pay tribute. Even over his heaving he could hear Aristides muttering about faulty Potions. After another two minutes, his stomach was finally empty and he flushed the toilet, bloody strange how you find toilets everywhere, even in the Demon Realm. Rising to his feet, he moved to the sink and agonizingly rinsed his mouth out, aware of Aristides gleeful expression. After he was cleaned off he reached for his right bracelet and pressed one of the red 'gems'. Nothing happened.
Twisting around he ignored his reflection as he quickly backed Aristides into a mirrored wall. "If you don't take off the Seal on my magic, I'm not going to be responsible for the pain I'm going to cause you."
"Not until you agree to become my Prince Consort." Aristides shot back.
Cyriacus managed a slightly dangerous smile as he backed away and sank down to his knees. "Just remember, I'm not responsible for my actions."
Without the Invictus Potion, he was going to be experiencing a lot of residual aches but other than that, he shouldn't be in too bad of a shape. His wings burst out without much fuss and like normal his skin began to change as tiny little scales appeared on his back, torso and shoulders. He was practically panting as he braced himself on his hands and knees on the tiled floor. Heat began to pool in his arms traveling down to his very fingertips. A scream ripped out of his throat as his forearm and hands Transformed and became dragon-like with large two inch claws. Tears were dripping down his face from the unexpected pain caused by the Transformation of his hands. Cyriacus stared at his hands, if you could call them that, they definitely were not human-like and felt abnormally bulky and clumsy. He pushed back the haze of pain though, he needed his damned Invictus Potion and he would get it no matter what he had to do to Aristides.
Slowly climbing to his feet, Cyriacus glared at the gaping but very much aroused Aristides. Before Aristides could say anything Cyriacus had him pinned to the wall with his left hand lightly wrapped around Aristides' throat and his right hovered over Aristides prick.
"You will release the Seal on my magic and let me go back to the Mortal Realm or the two of us will discover just how sharp these claws of mine are as I castrate you." Cyriacus hissed, emerald eyes burning.
Aristides blinked and then reality hit him, Cyriacus had his razor sharp claws hovering mere inches away from his prick and he hadn't yet sired an Heir. A quick look into Cyriacus's eyes showed that the Potions had worn off and there was a rage he'd never seen before burning in those eyes. Yielding seemed to be the wisest option he had at the moment.
"Fine, it will take me at least a half hour to undo the Seal. I suggest we find a comfortable place to sit for the next half hour."
Cyriacus stepped back and stalked behind the Demon Prince as they headed back into the bedroom. Cyriacus spied his clothes and carefully clothed himself before seating himself on an ottoman, well aware that not all aches in his body were from the Transformation. Had he not been used to pain and learned mental techniques to distance himself mentally, walking and sitting would have been a torture in and of itself. Aristides sat in front of him and splayed his hands in front of his chest as he began Incanting as he removed his Seal. About fifteen minutes passed by before someone or rather several persons began pounding on the door. A quick look at the door and Cyriacus knew that he wouldn't be able to undo the Seal so he just watched as the pounding became even louder. Aristides was oblivious to the disturbance as he was in a trance due to the intricacies involved in undoing the Seal.
Barely twelve minutes passed before the doors abruptly burst open, two Guards falling to the floor as the other two stumbled backwards. Behind them stood the King and Queen who looked horrified when they took in Cyriacus's condition. Cyriacus's hair was tousled and had some snarls in it; his pale skin was covered with bruised or scabbed over love bites, various bruises and deep claw marks. His wings still had blood on them and his clawed hands flexed, showing off the razor sharp claws.
Cyriacus glared at them. "Well what do you know, now I can have my revenge on all of you!"
Miltiades stepped past his Guards. "We had nothing to do with Aristides actions; even we would not condone rape."
A cunning idea hit him and Cyriacus raised an eyebrow as he studied the two Royals. "How much is your son's life worth?"
"W-what?" Photine stuttered, shocked.
Cyriacus smiled showing off his fanged teeth. "In less then ten minutes you son will finish undoing the Seal on my Order magic and unless you comply with my demands, you'll have to wait another six years before you can attempt to sire a new Heir."
The two Royals looked stunned by the threat but Cyriacus just flexed his claws as he slowly traced them along Aristides shoulder and neck. His hand lingered as it traced along the jugular vein. "How much?"
Two guards got to their feet and made to grab him but Cyriacus pinned them in place with a cold glare. "If you lay a single finger on me, your precious Prince dies and I will turn this building into an inferno you've never seen the likes of and piss on your ashes!"
"You will have anything you desire for his life!" Miltiades said frantically.
Cyriacus smirked as he rested his hand on Aristides's shoulder, far enough away to put their minds at ease and close enough if they decided to go back on their word. "First of all, if I find this fool within a hundred feet of me, I will show him that death would be far more preferable then what I would do to him. Second of all, you and yours will stay the hell out of my life and the lives of the other males capable of pregnancy. Third of all, if any of your kind harasses any of my offspring or descendants I will show you the true meaning of wrath! Is that understood?"
"Of course," Photine agreed quickly.
Aristides finished Incanting and blinked as he became aware of the situation. A glance at his parents showed that he should not do or say anything.
Cyriacus patted Aristides on the shoulder. "Your parents are very kindly acceding to my wishes in exchange for your life. Speaking of which, for letting your pathetic excuse of a son live, all body parts intact, you will personally owe me five boons. Failure to comply with my boons will equal the extermination of the current Royal family."
Miltiades gritted his teeth, "And?"
"I want a copy of every book within your library delivered to the home of my choosing by the end of the mortal month. Last of all, I want a gallon of blood from each of the current Royal Demons. Would you not agree that is a fair enough exchange for your son's idiocy?" hissed Cyriacus, eyes narrowed.
The King and Queen exchanged a dismayed look at the last demand, was giving up sacred Royal Demon blood worth the life of one Prince?
Cyriacus saw them hesitating and decided to give them a little incentive. "Of course if I do decide to kill him, I'll be sure to bleed him and just think of the price I could get for genuine Royal Incubi blood!"
"How do we know that you won't sell our blood to the rest of your…kind?" Photine asked cautiously.
"I'm a Necromancer; there are better uses for Royal Blood other than Potions and common Blood Magic. I don't doubt the things I could Summon with such pure, powerful blood."
Miltiades looked resigned. "Will you give your word that your creatures will not harm the Demons?"
"Your Majesty, I'm planning on having sworn word and a written contract to protect not only my interests but yours as well so long as you agree." Cyriacus commented.
"Very well," Miltiades sent one of his guards off to fetch the Royal Scribe before turning back to face Cyriacus. "Would you like some time to…refresh yourself?"
"I'm not going to spend a moment longer in this suite of rooms then I must."
The Queen looked at him with something akin to shame and sympathy. "Should I have a Healer sent for?"
"I will Heal anything that needs healing when I get back to the Mortal Realm. I'm sure you'll understand, I don't want any of your Healers tampering with my body should I be so unfortunate as to be pregnant." Cyriacus said sourly.
Miltiades looked hesitant. "I don't suppose there's any way to convince you to carry it to full term if you are pregnant?"
"There is nothing you could possibly offer me to carry that rapist's child for six months." Cyriacus said shooting Aristides a dark look.
When the Scribe arrived, Cyriacus might have been made out of stone he was so cold and stoic. Once everything had been drafted as he wanted and sworn to all the correct powers that be, Cyriacus had a lovely little chat with Aristides about his contacts in the Wizarding world. Nearly two hours later he was directed to a Gateway which would take him directly to the Mortal Realm. Just before he passed through the Gateway, he murmured a few words and two black shape shifting Chaos entities appeared.
"No killing or fatally harming anyone but you are welcome to cause as much havoc as possible to the inhabitants so long as you go nowhere near the library or the archive. Is that understood?"
The two entities agreed readily, growing wings.
"Make sure you make the Prince's life a living hell for me will you?" Cyriacus asked slightly amused.
"Yesss." They hissed, grinning.
Cyriacus snickered. "Good, off you go now and remember whenever the Prince is getting cocky I want you to speak two words Evulgo Fera (Reveal Animal). Have fun."
The two shot off and Cyriacus smirked as he passed through the Gateway. "I love being a Necromancer, damned if I can't get away with some things. Demons are so easy to annoy since they're so vain. Hmm, I could only wish to be there to see what happens when he gets hit with the same spell at the same time!"
The Strategy Room
Riddle Mansion, Little Hangleton, Great Britain
Wednesday the 20th of August 1997
10:45 PM
Everyone waited silently not daring to speak or make a single sound. Ever since Cyriacus Snape's disappearance from the heavily warded Snape Manor the Dark Lord had been livid and unpredictable. The Light was panicking at the sudden wave of destruction and utter slaughter which had not been seen since the height of Voldemort's first rise. Even the common Death Eaters knew that something had gone horribly wrong and that it involved Demons. Only half the whole force of Death Eaters was participating in the recent attacks as the other half were sent to find any contact to the Demon Realm. The entire Inner Circle and the Elite had been moved to quarters at the mansion and the Elite were not allowed to travel in anything less than groups of five and were constantly under guard by at least a dozen Death Eaters. Voldemort was not taking any chances with the rest of his Elite and he was determined to find his Prime as soon as possible.
Since Cyriacus's disappearance the Elite had become listless with Draco, Antares, Altair and Valerius particularly edgy leaving little doubt who among the Elite was the Prime. Voldemort himself was feeling irritated and angry, largely caused by the odd link the two former enemies shared. Though he couldn't find Cyriacus through the link, he could tell at least what type of mood the other was in. It was slowly driving Voldemort crazy as the constant bursts of pleasure, lust and completion made it even clearer that the Dark Lord's bed was empty and someone had dared to abduct his servant, his possession! And what completely made him livid was the fact that the Demon Prince was doing exactly what Voldemort wanted to do to that gorgeous, argumentative quarter-Incubi. The Demon Prince would die a very painful death should Voldemort catch him and Voldemort was determined to catch the wily Demon, whatever it took.
The last to enter the room, Voldemort took his seat and sharply demanded to hear reports on the progress of the hunt for either Cyriacus or a contact to the Demon Realm. As Lucius launched into his report, Voldemort frowned trying to find the link to Cyriacus and coming up empty handed.
Guest Room
Hotaru's Apartment, Kyoto Japan
Thursday the 21st of August 1997
7:45 AM
"I would have thought a shower would have helped but you still look awful," Hotaru said as Cyriacus walked into the bedroom toweling his hair dry, wearing a bathrobe Hotaru had loaned him.
Cyriacus smiled wryly. "You should have seen me before the Transformation caused my body to begin regenerating. I can say from honest experience that Incubi are not exactly good lovers unless one likes it hard, rough and frequent. Which I'm now positive I do not like at all. A little roughness and some aggression are perfectly fine but being turned into an Incubi's living clawing/biting post is too much for anyone but a full Demon."
Hotaru studied the marks on his neck. "He tried to Bond you I see and it didn't take, that's probably when it got rough a mixture of frustration and need to show possession."
"I'm just a lucky bastard I guess." Cyriacus said darkly, shoving the memories away. He didn't want to remember what had happened during the time he was under the influence of those Potions. That wasn't him after all.
Hotaru sensed his change in mood and turned the conversation away from what had happened in the Demon Realm. "I still can't believe you didn't tell any of us about those Transformations of yours! We were worried about you shutting yourself away twice a month, refusing to leave your room. It's not like we would have told anyone, all Alumni are Secretkeepers of the highest sort."
"I didn't even know what was going on or what these Transformations meant, I wouldn't have told you if only to keep you safe. I get these irrational desires for raw meat and blood when I'm Transformed. Besides that, I have a record of being feared for any 'abnormalities' like Parseltongue so excuse me if I decided it was easier to just ignore what I was. Life is too bloody complicated." Cyriacus replied, shifting his wings. He hadn't been able to change back into his normal form yet and having just discovered his tangled threads of magic, it would be awhile before he had enough time to untangle them all.
Bad choice! Hotaru chastised herself. "I'm sorry! I can't seem to find a topic that won't put you on the defensive."
"You have nothing to apologize for; I'm having a very bad day is all. You know how I get when I'm like this and thanks for trying to divert my attention."
Hotaru relaxed at his words, Ha-Cyriacus always was a bit unpredictable and it was always safer to be cautious. "Besides the cuts and scratches, you seem to be fine if showing a lot of muscle and joint strain in your back, shoulders and chest. I can give you a Potion for that until you manage to untangle your magic and use the Potion that was designed to help you during Transformations. Most importantly, you aren't pregnant and now that you've been uh… awakened I'll prescribe you some Potions."
Cyriacus snickered at her faltering. "Don't worry about that, I did my research already and I have everything I need. It'll be nice not to have to constantly survive off of Heredity Suppressor, I have a lot to catch up for I suppose."
"Let me guess, by Friday the lot of you will be seeing who can get laid the most?" Hotaru said rolling her eyes.
"Maybe," Cyriacus said amused. "Though I'd win hands down, I am a quarter Incubi after all. Are you offering to help with that?"
Hotaru chuckled as she moved over to a shelf and grabbed two Potions which she handed to Cyriacus. "You are a strange, strange person Cyriacus Snape."
"No one ever said I was a normal wizard, Hotaru." Cyriacus replied before downing the Potions. The first caused the bruises, claw marks and cuts to heal while the second relaxed his muscles and dulled the pain to a more bearable level.
Hotaru shook her head as she did one final scan of his health. "You can stay here for the rest of the day, if you'd like."
"I have to get going, no doubt they're frantic trying to find me. Besides that I have some questions that need to be answered." Cyriacus said tone cooling distinctly.
"You're always welcome here, don't forget that." Hotaru said feeling sorry for whoever was going to have Cyriacus's rage let loose on them.
Cyriacus leaned forward and brushed his lips against her cheek. "Thanks for everything Hotaru; I'll see you in a few days."
"Get on your way then and keep the robe!" Hotaru said as Cyriacus waved before walking into the shadows and vanishing.
The Strategy Room
Riddle Mansion, Little Hangleton, Great Britain
Wednesday the 20th of August 1997
11:00 PM
After stopping to get a quick change of clothes from Eagle's Spire, Cyriacus headed directly to the Strategy Room at Riddle Mansion. He arrived in the middle of Montgomery's report about his contacts in South Africa, stepping out of the shadow portal he barely managed to duck out of the way when Voldemort tossed a powerful Cruciatus Curse.
"Well it's good to know that I was missed," Cyriacus said dryly as he stepped into the room.
Severus was the first to speak. "Where have you been?"
"Until a half hour ago, I was in the Demon Realm. Imagine my surprise when the gateway to the Mortal Realm tossed me out in China. Idiot of a Prince probably didn't warn me on purpose just to see where the hell I ended up. Heh, and I'm the bastard." Cyriacus grumbled stepping into the light.
Everyone was staring at him and strangely enough it was Lucius Malfoy who blurted out the question on everyone's mind. "What the Hell happened to you?"
Cyriacus raised an eyebrow as he stretched his wings out behind him, one clawed hand resting on his hip. "As of today, this is what the Transformation looks like. I now have wings, scales and claws; dare I hope for a tail next month? Maybe some horns?"
"You're in a bad mood." Valerius said without thinking.
"No shit," Cyriacus snarled, eyes flashing. "There's nothing quite like going to sleep in your bed and waking up the next morning trussed to a bed with someone leering at you, making grand plans for a wedding and a nursery. Nothing quite like waking up two days later feeling and looking like you'd been mauled by a bear, with your magic Sealed with the need to Transform and not able to use your painkiller. Then you end up looking like some mad scientist's failed attempt at cross-species gene splicing! So yes, I'm in a bad mood I've had a fucked up three days."
Voldemort stared at him. "Calm down."
"And just how am I supposed to calm down? I'm not myself in this form! I have insane urges for raw meat and fresh blood, I'm easily irritated and I can't change back to my normal form! At this point I don't know who I blame more, my mother for sleeping with my father or you for dreaming up this mad scheme!" Cyriacus ranted, trying to restrain the urge to leap on someone and shred them with his claws. When the temptation became too great, he quickly turned around and slashed at the wall with his claws trying to ease out of the bloodthirsty mood.
"Did that help?" Anthony Goldstein asked watching Cyriacus pant heavily as he stepped away from the wall shavings.
"Some," Cyriacus answered leaning against the wall. "Still want blood for some reason though."
Severus glanced at his son then Voldemort. "Perhaps you should come back when you're feeling more in control."
"No, I came for some answers and I will have them." Cyriacus said glaring at Voldemort. "What the hell am I?"
"Pardon?" Voldemort asked confused.
Cyriacus stepped closer to the older wizard gesturing wildly, "What the hell am I? None of this should be possible! Dragon wings on a humanoid body, clawed hands and this insane desire to eat raw meat! What the fuck did you do to us?"
Everyone was silent, unmoving. Cyriacus was angry, far angrier than any of them had seen before. His rage combined with the inhuman visage he was now sporting made everyone's instincts scream caution. The Dragons looked at him transfixed, wondering if that was how they would look in four or five months. Voldemort however was calm as he got to his feet and circled Cyriacus with an inquisitive gleam in his crimson eyes.
You want the truth Cyriacus? I am not certain what exactly you are. The only thing I was assured of was that all my Elite would have above normal power and physical attributes. Do you think you are the only one confused? The Transformation should not have gone beyond the wings and perhaps the scales but for it to Transform entire human body parts into a hybrid of dragon and human? I have no sure answers for you as the Anguis Potion was experimental in the extreme.
Your Potion notes, I want them!
Voldemort shook his head. They were destroyed with my downfall sixteen years ago, there is nothing left but records regarding who was given the Potion when.
"Damn you!" Cyriacus growled, restraining the urge to leap at Voldemort. "And Damn my mother."
Voldemort quickly backed away from Cyriacus as the other began glowing with power. Cyriacus sank to his knees, overcome by a throbbing heat in his entire body. He was burning, everything that made him who he was, was changing transforming becoming something else. Distantly he was aware of the fact that he was screaming for all he was worth until everything was washed away in a painful burst of white light.
Riddle Mansion, Little Hangleton, Great Britain
Thursday the 21st of August 1997
1:00 PM
It was the sound of two people talking that woke Cyriacus from the deep sleep he had fallen into. As his awareness grew, he became aware that he felt different and was almost afraid to open his eyes to see just how much he had changed. The Transformations had always frightened him on some level but now that he had heard just how little Voldemort knew about what was happening to him, he was even more anxious. So feigning sleep he listened to the conversation taking place next to his bedside.
"…Not as ignorant as we thought, though we weren't exactly trying to hide him from the Incubi so it's not like we failed. The important thing is that magical artifacts no longer 'read' him as Harry Potter and that much we managed so it's not such a big deal." Harry was telling someone.
"Why didn't you go look for him?" Voldemort demanded angrily.
"Because time changes differently in the Demon Realm, fifteen hours there is like a day here and even if I had gone, there's no way I could have made it to wherever they were keeping him without being noticed. Besides that while Cyriacus may have to answer to you, I don't because you aren't my Creator so it wouldn't have mattered. Cyriacus told me to play things out as Harry Potter and going off to look for him on short notice like that would have blown my cover. Deal with it." Harry said sharply.
Voldemort shifted in his chair, "Arrogant Demon Prince."
"As if you're any better? Aristides and you share a very similar trait, thinking of Cyriacus as some sort of object that needs an owner. You know nothing about what he's like or what he's capable of and yet you foolishly think he's nothing more than a man with a body you wouldn't mind having in your bed. I would have thought you'd be more intelligent about things but I suppose even Dark Lords have to have their downfall. Though I have to admit, I never would have thought sex would be yours."
"I do want him for other reasons besides his body though that would be reason enough. He's intelligent, talented and powerful, there are few enough wizards or witches who rank anywhere near Dumbledore and me and Cyriacus is at least my match if not more. Looking at the situation, having a relationship or something more with Cyriacus is also very politically advancing. Only a fool would try to bring us down if we fought together side by side and despite your mocking of my intelligence, it would be easier to settle him if he shared some authority in re-shaping the Wizarding world. Being the Prime over the Elite has power over my forces yes but being my Consort and my right hand would be an honor no one else has yet to earn."
"Even your Inner Circle?"
"They have their uses and their power, enough to keep them pleased as they have no where near the amount of power that Cyriacus and I possess. As much as some have dreamed of being my Consort, they all know that I would not accept anyone who could not wield the same kind of power as I do. Being a Dark Lord is not a simple matter, one has to rule with an iron fist yet have enough incentives to keep one's followers loyal and working at their best. As useful as most of my Inner Circle are, none of them have the sheer power or mind to enforce their orders."
Harry shifted. "And I suppose the fact that you don't have to worry about a knife in the back has any impact on your decision? Or the fact that the link between the two of you is more than a simple mind link?"
"Both of those reasons merely add to the overall appeal of making Cyriacus my Consort. I am not going to list all my reasons but there are enough of them where I doubt even my Inner Circle would remark upon a relationship between the two of us."
Silence then, "Are you planning on actually speaking to him about it? He's told me that you've been making silent overtures but haven't come straight out with it."
"I have been ready for some time but I wanted him settled with Severus first before I approached him. The last few weeks have been rather stressful for everyone and had I approached him when he was still adjusting to the situation he may have reacted badly. Even if he was bred with a form of Loyalty oath, I thought it best not to try his temper."
"Hmm, being your lover would be one thing but the commitment involved in being your Consort…I doubt he would be willing to agree to that."
"I believe that I could convince him given enough time and I have plenty of time to convince him to become my Consort. My forces will follow his commands because he is the Prime and will be getting his orders from me and simply having him stand on my side is enough for the time being. However it is never too soon to plan ahead and having him as my Consort is a goal worth working towards." Voldemort explained simply.
Harry rose out of his chair and walked away from the bed. "Well I'm happy you bothered to explain that all to me and best of luck with Cy. At least now you've said your piece so now you can both decide what you're going to do instead of waiting for one or the other to make the first move."
Cyriacus frowned as he was forced to stop pretending he was asleep. Opening his eyes he turned his head to the right only to meet contemplating red eyes.
"I really must agree with Lucius, two such beings with your personality running amok is rather aggravating." Voldemort stated, leaning back in his chair.
Cyriacus shook his head as he carefully climbed out of the bed, pausing to untangle his left wing thumb from the coverlet. "I did say that he wasn't completely a mirror copy of me and he isn't, I certainly wouldn't have been as blunt as that no matter the situation."
Voldemort made a noise of agreement as he watched the boxer-clad wizard rise to his feet and approach the mirror. He had changed during the time he was unconscious, his body shifting to properly accommodate either the physical manifestations of the Transformation or the magical ones. Cyriacus hadn't grown any taller but his frame had shifted becoming broader while his muscles increased in size and definition, those however were nothing that would make him stand out in a crowd. His arms from the forearm down were still dragon-like only they had become even more dangerous looking as his arms and shoulders had changed to accommodate the physical power he was now capable of. The large black wings were even more impressive as they looked to have finally completed its 'natural' growth. The clawed thumbs had changed into five inch curved talons and his wings now sported talons at the end of each 'finger', they had estimated his new wingspan to be either fifteen or sixteen feet. The final thing that would make him stand out in a crowd were his eyes, which were very reptilian looking, no doubt enabling him to see in the dark and at great distances.
"Dare I hope this is it?" Cyriacus asked softly, staring at himself in the mirror. He felt so tired and worn, too tired to bother to put up his defenses. What Voldemort wanted was something that required no secrets between them and Cyriacus was exhausted of keeping track of his lies. It had been a trying week and though he wasn't broken he was awfully close to bending completely out of shape.
Voldemort had walked over to him while Cyriacus had been busy flexing various muscles. "What do you see when you look at yourself in the mirror?"
"What do I see? I see an abnormal being looking back at me wearing my face."
"Why do you think of yourself like that? Is it some remnant of your relatives positive reinforcement when you were a child?"
Cyriacus didn't even look at Voldemort who was now standing directly behind him, close enough to touch. "Asked them did you? Not surprised really, enough Cruciatus Curses would make anyone spill their life story. It's pathetic isn't it? All this time everyone had been expecting me to save them from the 'Darkness' you spread. How was I supposed to save them when I couldn't even save myself from my Muggle relatives? I let them treat me worse than a house-elf at times and did I think to ask for help from anyone? I suppose it only goes to show how well the Wizarding world knows me or how delusional they have become."
"Ignorance is bliss, I'm sure if they noticed the signs of abuse they talked themselves into thinking they had imagined it. After all, it's not like they left any visible signs that would have made them delve deeper. You were always a skinny, short thing but malnutrition does that. I remember well." Voldemort said quietly.
"They knew but they didn't do anything about it, even the Weasleys who I thought of as family and Dumbledore who had been my mentor. Everything changed though when I went to Arcanum, they say the Isle changes you but I think it only reveals what has always been there. I am what I was meant to be and they can't accept that and I won't go back to what I was, I deserve better than that. To answer your question, no it's not due to my relatives. It's myself, all myself because I always wanted to look normal but I suppose it's time I got used to the fact that it's not possible for me to be normal. I suppose though a large part of it is simply because I was strong enough in this form to put that idiot Aristides in his place but not in my 'normal' form. I'll adjust eventually, whether I want to or not." Cyriacus said eyes darkening as he wrapped his wings tightly around his body.
"What do you mean?" Voldemort asked stepping closer as he cautiously set his chin on Cyriacus's shoulder, his arms wrapped around Cyriacus's wings and waist.
Cyriacus relaxed into the embrace and growled softly as he spoke. "Arcanum was—is my Sanctuary. I was breaking when Dumbledore sent me off to the Isle and they were the ones who revealed what I was and freed me of the breaking façade that was the Savior of the Wizarding World. At Arcanum I learned to be Harry and I learned just how to use my magic in a world that is anything but kind and forgiving. There is no Dark or Light, Good or Evil, Black or White, Order or Chaos as I learned at Arcanum. It was a lesson that I hadn't managed to learn in fourteen years but it was the most important one I've learned so far. I'm sure I baffle the Order but I don't care because in the end they don't matter, they are nothing more than prejudiced would-be-heroes. I'm not a hero or a Saint; I'm a sinner of the worst kind."
At this point even Voldemort knew not to speak so he just silently offered Cyriacus comfort and best of all, didn't judge him.
"Arcanum teaches everything and I wanted to learn how to defeat you, it was a drive that nothing stopped, not pain, not weariness, not hunger. I did horrible, terrible things to advance in my Necromancy and in a strange way I don't regret what I did because it brought me this much further. I wanted my freedom and at the time the only way to it was to kill you and I would have done anything to earn my freedom. I would have killed you and destroyed myself in the process but it didn't matter because there's never anyone to save the hero anyways. They called me their Savior…but you were going to be my savior and free me from this life and their delusions. That my life was forfeit meant nothing in the end, I never could have lived if I survived your death."
Voldemort closed his eyes; drowning in the words which were so familiar…he had said many of them once too, long ago before he had found his path. "It gets better Cyriacus, it always gets better and we're so close to freeing you. Once Harry Potter is dead, there will only be you and no more expectations, just you. I can still be your Savior if you want and you will always have your freedom, I swear it."
"Who will save the hero when he has fallen? No one, it's expected that the hero will simply die and that's alright, its okay. As if all the statues in the world, all the recordings in history books make a glorious death worthwhile. They would have used me and watched me die in a hell of my own creation as they celebrated their precious won victory…I won't give them that satisfaction though."
Voldemort turned Cyriacus around so he could look at him. "What will you do?"
"I'm going to give them a taste of my own personal hell…" Cyriacus murmured staring into Voldemort's eyes and then leaned forward and pressed their lips together.
Hopefully you all thought it was worth the wait! This chapter was utter and pure hell for me as I re-wrote it three times before I finally found the one I liked. I'm really hoping the next one will be as easy but I'm not sure. Tentatively I'm thinking updates will be around once every two weeks as I'm quite busy again. Either way update info is always at my Yahoo Group, the link's on my author's bio.
Quick Q&A:
Someone asked about Mpreg and though I've set it up the possibility of writing Mpreg, I probably won't because I wouldn't know how to write it. I've only just started getting comfortable writing NC-17 and Mpreg is a leap I'm not prepared to take yet. I don't know how long this fic is going to be though so I may end up at a point where I am ready to write Mpreg but I will give you plenty of warning if the story begins heading that way.
Read, review, feed the author some inspiration! Updates are usually much faster if I get really inspired (hint, hint)!
-SheWolfe7 (1/21/05)
