Beware! Dark times lie ahead...

On to the story:

"Harry, please, come and get me out of this hell. I don´t know how much longer I can stand this." Draco whispered silently, bringing the rings to his lips to kiss them tenderly. "I love you, Harry."

He was unaware of crimson eyes watching him, glittering with hatred and deceit.

oooooo Chapter 21 oooooo

The Implication Of Darkness

He had lost Draco. He had lost the child. He had lost himself.

Harry was slouching in the softly cushioned chair sitting in the corner of the nursery he had made for Draco´s child, a child which was nothing more than a gaping incision in the belly of Draco´s rotting corpse. There was not even a tiny body to entomb along with Draco, when they would lay him to rest this afternoon in the family crypt at Malfoy Manor. A lost child needed no cradle.

"Reducto!"

Aaah, Draco had been so right to blow the bloody cradle up! Harry smirked as the beautiful, white cradle, the epitome of innocence, was destroyed. Splintered wood was raining down all over the room. The tiny Quidditch players, who had been having a friendly match above the baby bed, were shrieking in terror, their tiny voices unnerving him. Harry wanted to destroy, wanted to set the world on fire, wanted to let the darkness out, which was suffocating his soul.

"Reparo!"

The high he was experiencing after destroying something was never enough; he always needed more. Harry watched impatiently as the pieces of the cradle assembled at high speed, until all the destruction was just a memory and he could shatter the cradle once again, just as all his hopes had been shattered. He groaned with annoyance, when sorrow tried to overtake his mind again, maiming his broken heart like a rabid beast and tearing with its claws into his bleeding soul.

"Reducto!"

Harry flinched when a splinter scratched over his cheek, the burning pain insignificant compared to the burning inferno raging deep inside. His fingers moved curiously over the deep scratch. He frowned at the crimson smeared on his fingertips, contemplating the essence of life, which was so easy to shed. Draco had been covered in his life-blood. How must it be to die drowning in pain and fear while you felt your blood draining from your body, leaving you cold and broken?

"Reparo!"

How easy it was to repair a life-less object, while it was so impossible to recreate life. Magic was so powerful at times, and so useless at others. Maybe there were ways, ways he didn´t know about, ways which had been hidden from him, the warrior of the Light. More powerful magic, magic which would balance life for him once again. There was no hope of redemption, no happiness left for him, it was replaced with death and destruction.

"Reducto!"

Damnation was all fate had planned out for him, and it was time to pay life back with interest, and he would not forget those who had hurt him, blocked his path and left him in misery. There was no sense in being honourable and good, if those who pretended to be on your side used and manipulated you and left you with the broken pieces of your life, while the rest of the world was seemingly hell-bent on your destruction.

He would not be used again nor controlled. He had nothing left to lose, but everything to gain. He was ready to become Voldemort´s equal.

ooooooo

Severus snarled at the impertinence of the person knocking at the door to his quarters. His mood was sullen at best and with the disconcerting bouts of pain lancing through his body and the prospect of having to attend Draco´s funeral in less than two hours time he was more than ready to tear the head off the fool who deemed it right to disturb him in his private rooms.

"Potter." Of course! "What is the reason for your ill-timed visit?"

"Is Draco´s mother here?" Oh, the gull. "No, she´s not, Potter."

"Good!" Potter looked at him intently, until Severus let the brash Gryffindor step into the room.

"I want to continue my Occlumency lessons," Potter said, meeting his impatient look unflinchingly. "and I want you to teach me Dark Arts."

Severus raised his brows in surprise, sending the black-haired youth a scrutinizing look. "Could you repeat that again, Potter? I think I-"

"Don´t let us play useless games, please. I know that you´ve heard perfectly well what I´ve said. I want you to teach me all you know, Professor Snape."

Severus looked Dumbledore´s tin soldier over. Potter looked prostrated. The paleness of his skin emphasised the dark shadows under his eyes, eyes which were not shining with their brilliant green any longer, but were now of the dull dark-green of the twilight in the forbidden forest. His poise was not stubborn any longer, but determined and confident. He seemed to have grown up over night. There was something in the eyes of this young man, which sent a tiny shiver down Severus spine. Dumbledore´s weapon had lost his halo.

"Will you help me to destroy Voldemort?"

Severus hesitated briefly, before he nodded. "What about the Headmaster?"

"Dumbledore can go to hell," Potter hissed, showing a flicker of emotions for the first time. "If he´d wanted to teach me something useful, he would have done so a long time ago. I don´t care about his guidance any longer. I want to understand how Voldemort works, I want to know what spells he uses, I need to know everything you know and I´m ready to learn anything you can teach me."

"And you think that I would be the right person to teach you."

"For sure you didn´t replace Lucius Malfoy without reason," Was that a smirk twisting Potter´s lips?

James Potter would turn in his grave, if he knew that his son was asking him of all people to guide him on the Dark path. An imperceptible sneer lit Severus face. "We will start tomorrow, right after lunch," He walked over to his potions cupboard and took a small vial containing a dark, swirling liquid out, which he offered to Potter. "Take this Dreamless Sleep tonight. I want you to have a good night´s rest before we start the training. You look like you could need it."

"Thank you, Professor," Potter accepted the vial gratefully, a definite smirk now sparking a cold fire in the gloomy green.

ooooooo

"...Draco Malfoy has left a void in our midst; his death has filled our hearts with sorrow. Let us mourn this child of light no longer, for the Gods have ended his suffering and welcomed him into their loving embrace. Darkness will be no more, for his light will shine on us eternally..."

Severus suppressed his scowl. Committal services always made him want to snort at their hilarious attempts at comfort and their obnoxious ideas of a perfectly peaceful afterlife filled with nothing but love. Narcissa was leaning on him, her body shaking with silent sobs, while he himself felt a burning cold consuming him, which was freezing all of his emotions but one, the unadulterated hatred he felt for the snake-faced miscreant, conjuring up memories of red eyes glittering with malice.

"...The dead are not absent, they are invisible, looking with their eyes full of light into our eyes full of life..."

Potter´s eyes were not full of life, they were full of death and darkness. How the Dark Lord had miscalculated the outcome of his cruel scheming. Potter had broken, but not in the way he had surely intended. The pawn had become a knight, uncaring if his path led him into Light or Darkness. No longer did he cry over his lost love. There were no tears in his hardened eyes, which slowly moved over the mourners. Dumbledore met the stare of his prized pupil with a small frown, while Bella was openly sneering at the widower.

"Let us say good bye to Draco."

Narcissa stepped closer to the coffin to place a cream-coloured rose with silver-glittering pattern, looking like dew drops, on the shining wood.

"I have borne you and love you. You will not be lost to me in death."

Potter´s lips tightened even more, if that was possible at all, before he placed his rose beside Narcissa´s.

"I have married you and love you. You will not be lost to me in death."

Severus felt the hatred inside him exploding, when he placed his own rose beside the others.

"I have known you and love you. You will not be lost to me in death."

The sorrow was dizzying; the pain in his heart was racing through his body like the Cruciatus Curse, leaving him gasping.

"Severus!" Narcissa´s worried voice tore through the daze he was in. "Severus, are you well?"

The pain slowly receded, taking the red mist in front of his eyes with it. Embarrassed he found himself in the centre of attention, all eyes on him.

"I am well, Narcissa. No need to worry," His shaking hands and aching body easily betrayed his words. Whatever it was, that had caused the repeated bouts of pain and dizziness, was obviously getting worse. With shocking clearity his mind decided at that moment to make the connection to the curse the Dark Lord had put on him, which had conveniently escaped his memory.

The coffin of the sixteen year old boy he had not managed to save from his cruel destiny in front of his eyes, he was suddenly reminded of his own mortality. Was he also to be pushed into a stone alcove soon, or lowered into dark and cool soil? He would have deserved death hundred times over by then, judged by all the things he had done as a Death Eater, not like the innocent boy whose body was forever locked now behind a marble slab with his name on it.

Severus straightened, pushing the pain to the back of his awareness. There were still things left to do. Narcissa needed him, and a Gryffindor had to be turned Slytherin, though the boy seemed to be a natural. He watched as Potter smoothly approached the smirking Bellatrix Lestrange, Draco´s aunt, with narrowed eyes.

"Only out of respect for my husband I will not kill you right here, right now," the black-haired boy hissed to everybody´s astonishment into the gaunt woman´s face, "but you won´t escape your destiny!"

Bella´s answering laughter sounded slightly too high-pitched to be genuine, as Severus noticed with amusement.

"Harry, -" Granger and Dumbledore both made their way towards the youth, who dared to be so out of character, matching frowns on their faces.

Potter sent them a fleeting glance, void of all expression and Apparated away without another word, uncaring of the fact, that he was not seventeen yet and as such not entitled to use Apparition by Ministry law. Severus almost pitied Dumbledore, the way the old Headmaster stood there with open mouth, his hero obviously out of his control, for the entire world to see.

ooooooo

Darkness, all that was ever there was darkness. He could hear them, walking by. Walking by was better than coming over to where he was, touching him, taunting him, playing with him, hurting him. The floor was so cold and hard, the thin shirt and trousers he had been given not able to keep the chill from creeping into his body.

And still...he liked to curl up on the ground and fall asleep. In his dreams he was with Harry, they were walking down to the lake, lying in their warm and comfortable bed, kissing, talking, laughing. Harry had always been gentle and caring, not like them, never like them. He wanted to go home. How long had he been here? Days, months, years?

No, not that long. The baby was still inside him. Moving, kicking. There it was again, the small fluttering, a soft kicking, like a little heart beating in his middle. Draco smiled, placing his shaking hand slowly, slowly, afraid to attract their attention, over the place where the baby was kicking, feeling the slight pulsing against his hand.

If only he could concentrate enough to make his wandless magic work and open the bloody collar. It had to be possible. Why did he feel so drained? Was it because of all the potions they were forcing down his throat? Draco tensed when steps resounded through the room, coming closer to where he was chained to the stone floor.

"No, please, go away!"

"Now, now, Draco, why so impolite?" Draco had not been aware of having whispered his plea to be left alone until he heard the sardonic voice.

"Aunt Bella?" He opened his unseeing eyes wide in surprise. His mother´s sister was here. Maybe she would - "Please, help me out of here. I want to go back to Harry...and mom. Please, aunt Bella!"

"But Draco, why would you want to go back to them? They believe you dead. I just attended your funeral," she purred.

Draco gasped, shaking his head in denial. "That is nothing but a lie you are telling to break me," Harry couldn´t believe, that he was dead. He was alive, and Harry had to come and take him away from here. If Harry had been convinced somehow, that he was dead, he wouldn´t - no, it was just a lie. He would not fall for it. He started, when something was pushed into his hand, pricking his skin. Confused he realised, that it felt like the stem of a rose.

"This is the rose Harry placed on your coffin, Draco. It was a beautiful funeral, very tasteful, just the best for Cissy´s wee dragon. Uncle Alistair delivered the sermon, very touching. But darling - your husband - he didn´t seem to miss you much. He did not shed one tear over your dead body and couldn´t leave soon enough after the committal service was over."

"You´re lying!" Draco hissed, helpless against the tears forming in his eyes, although he knew, that her words had only one intent--to hurt him.

"Why would I lie to you, wee dragon? Smell the rose. Fairy Tears. A very beautiful rose. Fairy Tears were the only flowers allowed at the funeral, because they are your favourites," Her husky laughter tore through his heart like a spear.

Only Harry had known, that he loved this certain rose. He had never entrusted anybody else with this tidbit of information in fear of appearing like a sissy. Anxiously he smelled the silky blossom. The sweet scent threatened to suffocate him. It couldn´t be true.

"No, you are lying. Harry will - Harry -" his choked whisper merged into painful sobs, as his last hope for redemption was taken from him, and another piece of his sanity crumbled into the voracious darkness threatening to swallow him alive.

A hand caressed his hair, when he curled up tightly, burrowing his tear stained face into his arms, and a morbid singsong trickled into his mind. "Hush, little baby, don´t you cry, nobody´s gonna save you, and that´s no lie."

His aunt´s hysterical laughter resounded in his mind long after she had left, leaving him to drown in bitter tears and black despair.

ooooooo

Harry crashed to the ground, slithering over the smooth wood flooring, the Room of Requirement had created for their training, before he came to a halt, his chest heaving with gasping breaths. The impact had driven all air out of his lungs and sent a sharp pain through his left arm. For a fleeting moment he thought he would pass out, until Snape´s snide drawl startled him out of his daze.

"Get up, Potter! Do you think the Dark Lord will wait until you get to your feet again? He will Crucio you until you are nothing but a whimpering tangle of limbs."

Harry grit his teeth and pushed himself off the floor, carefully avoiding to jar his most likely broken arm, which was hanging useless at his side. He had just gotten to his knees when he flipped his wand arm towards the smirking man and yelled "Stupefy!" in hope of surprising his opponent. Snape blocked the curse effortlessly and sneered at him.

"You are lame, Potter! Is that all you have to offer?" Harry wanted to tear that sneer off the sallow face.

"Impedimenta!" With a lazy flick of his hand Snape deflected this jinx as well and countered with a curse of his own, sending Harry flying once again. He hit the floor hard, biting his tongue this time as he tried to suppress the scream of pain at the fire lancing through his broken arm. It took him some moments to realise, that he had lost his wand.

"What is it, Potter - had enough already?" Snape slowly strode towards him, before he crouched down beside him, his wand in one hand and a potion vial in the other. "Would you care for a healing potion - Potter?"

Harry grudgingly accepted the potion, angry on himself. How had Snape been able to defeat him with such ease? On top of that the man looked clearly complacent, increasing Harry´s bad mood. The healing potion was knitting the fracture within seconds, the tingling feeling soothing and uncomfortable at the same time. Harry scrambled up from the floor and hit the nearest wall with his newly healed arm, cursing under his breath.

"How could you - I was doing better in duelling with Voldemort!" Harry couldn´t believe how pathetic his performance had been.

"The Dark Lord, Potter, can squash you like a bug if he wills. I have no idea how you could survive until today. Surely you don´t owe the fact to your superior duelling skills," The fathomless, black eyes bored into Harry´s. "First and foremost you have to learn to keep your mouth shut and your mind closed, Potter. You have to work on your shield charms and on your speed. You are panting and sweating like an old, obese woman, which clearly states, that you are in no condition to go into battle. You should not have stopped playing Quidditch. Once we remedied all of these hindrances, I will teach you more favourable curses you can use non-verbally in battle."

Harry glared at Snape, the verbal attack on his physical fitness gnawing at his pride.

"Give me your wand and get down on the ground. You will do press-ups," Snape´s gleeful smirk made his black eyes sparkle with an unholy light of pleasure at having Harry at his command.

Harry put his wand into Snape´s outstretched hand, a small frown on his face, and moved into position. His arms were shaking, as he pushed himself up, and Snape´s foot on his back did not help. "How many do I have to do?" Harry forced out through his clenched teeth. He started when his wand cluttered to the floor in direct line of his view, mere feet from his nose.

"You will do press-ups until you manage to Accio your wand non-verbally," Snape sneered.

Harry gulped.

"Bugger!"

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