Harry looked at the wall in front of him. Staring straight ahead because he couldn't really see the wall, after all.
He could see Bellatrix, though. Every single one of her features was etched into his mind.
The horrible thing was he couldn't bring himself to regret it. The only thing he regretted was not killing her sooner, before she could kill the people precious to him.
Nothing seemed to matter anymore because Harry was becoming a monster.
His wand was still with him, though Harry couldn't manage the will to use it. It wouldn't do any good, anyway. Even if he did manage to blast out of this prison, he'd still get captured.
It was odd, how hopeless all his thoughts had become.
Before, Harry had always thought about Ron and Hermione at school, studying and playing and going to classes, whenever he got melancholy. Now, he could only wonder what their funerals would look like.
It wasn't supposed to be like this. He was the impetuous one, the one who always ran straight into danger. If anything, Harry had thought that his friends would be the ones to bury him.
Some hero.
At least Bellatrix wouldn't be able to hurt anyone else. Harry couldn't help but feel a stab of savage triumph at the memory of her face, first twisted with disbelief and then turned so trustingly towards her lord, only to be betrayed. He only wished that she had had longer to realize her master had sent her in to die.
Harry himself was still reeling from it. After he'd killed Bellatrix, Voldemort had tugged him onto the floor to sit. His own vision had been wavering.
He couldn't remember what had happened after that.
"Harry Potter."
Voldemort was there, only Harry wasn't afraid at all. He had already taken so much from him, what more could he do? Kill him?
"You did very well. Almost like one of my better Death Eaters," Voldemort crooned, a look of sick satisfaction on his terribly pale face.
"I'm nothing like-" Harry retorted hotly then stopped. In a way, he was, wasn't he? After all, he had killed as well.
"Aren't you?" Voldemort whispered sadistically. He laughed even as Harry blinked. "Did you know that we are distant cousins, Harry Potter?"
"Would it stop you from killing me?"
"Perhaps… it depends on your answer to my question. Will you serve me now?"
Harry stayed silent, unwilling to commit himself either way. He didn't particularly fancy being Crucio'd until he went insane but neither would he ever join Voldemort's cause. He just wanted to be left alone, because there was no way that he could go back home.
"Well? I have destroyed everything that you care for, Harry Potter." Except for Dumbledore. "What do you have left to fight for, except your own life?"
He couldn't think of anything. Of course his parents had died for him, but he still wanted to live. Despite everything, Harry still valued his own survival. Even if he had lost everything else, he valued his life. Of course Voldemort understood that. This was the monster that wanted his life for eternity, after all.
"You could be my son," Voldemort said, giving Harry a look of twisted possessiveness and… something else. Hatred?
Harry said nothing at all.
