CH 13: Lessons
It had been a week since their outing, four days since Harry had succumbed and created the poison potion with his new master. Voldemort had not given him much a choice, stating that it was well within their agreement and that Harry could either spend the evening recovering from torture and while he was unconscious, Voldemort would give his Death Eaters free rein to target the Order until Harry awoke, or Harry could follow him to the potions lab and learn to create the potion.
Grudgingly, Harry had aided Voldemort in creating the poison, though to call his efforts anything valuable to the potion's actual creations was laughable. The Dark Lord was clearly a prodigy in potions as he was with everything else the wizard engaged in. The Slytherin heir was methodical and precise; every cut of the blade or stir of his stick was done with practiced ease to maximize efficiency. As the man worked, he had spoken aloud, explaining each step he took and why. They'd fallen into a demo-do flow, Voldemort succinctly describing and demonstrating even the simplest tasks, then handing it off to Harry to continue the step.
The raven-haired youth was forced to admit he'd learn a ton, much more than he'd ever done in Hogwarts with the grouchy bat-like potion master. Even basic steps that Harry had thought he'd mastered years ago were improved upon, Voldemort's instructions forcing him to adjust the angle of his wrist slightly or providing techniques to ensure he always knew which step he was on. The potion had taken the better part of the day, which Harry had surprisingly endured with little overt conflict with the Dark Lord. He found that the almost clinical nature Voldemort adopted whenever he was instructing was becoming easier and easier for the teen to accept.
He did not make Harry feel needlessly foolish yet effortlessly guided him to more superior ways of accomplishing just about everything. Most surprisingly, rarely did Voldemort ever expand beyond practical instruction and application. He seldom diverted their time together down confusing rabbit holes of light and dark magic superiority like their first few conversations had focused. In their spell-casting sessions, he taught Harry and seemed almost proud each time the Gryffindor swiftly mastered a new spell. His corrections were swift and high-demanding, but he tempered any anger or overt emotions, further perplexing the youth with every encounter. After the last week of training, Harry only felt more and more confused about how he should view the tense apprentice-master relationship in which Harry found himself. This was not the insane and callous Dark Lord who was the source of horror stories Harry had grown up on. Instead, he was a genius, definitely harsh and cruel, but Harry cool see more and more of the dark prodigy and not just a mindless madman.
Instead, with demanding precision and expectation, he forced Harry to truly immerse himself in every spell and new skill the teen attempted. And Harry could see that the training and instruction were beginning to significantly affect Harry in more ways than just one. How he approached information had changed. Now, when looking for a new spell, he automatically included studying the counter, cancellation, and any spells to circumvent it as mandatory prerequisites before attempting it. And instead of just going for spells that looked and sounded cool, he began to intentionally seek ones that he felt complimented his strengths and would expand his own unique fighting style.
Never before would he have thought he had a style of his own, but under Voldemort's expert tutelage, he'd come to appreciate how well speed and stealth suited him. His lithe seeker frame, mixed with his ability to use spells creatively, gave him a first-strike advantage and the potential to coax his opponent into long and exhaustive duals, duals that required endurance and cunning where he thrived, or so the Dark Lord told him.
His daily encounters with Voldemort had become somewhat predictable in nature, but no less baffling to the teen as to what the Dark Lord's larger scheme was. While there was no doubt that Harry's skills were rapidly evolving under the Slytherin's demanding instruction, Harry still didn't understand why the Dark Lord bothered to train him at all. Why instruct a boy whom he feared could have once been his downfall and whom he spent the better part of Harry's life trying to murder?
Making it even worst, Harry was surprised that the Dark Lord hadn't spent more time trying to convince the stubborn Gryffindor to accept the dark. But, he reflected on sadly, perhaps Voldemort didn't feel he needed to. Harry was a captive audience, and as loath as he was to admit it, Harry was beginning to see the uses of dark magic for their own merit, with no further prompting from the Dark Lord. Not that Harry had any desire to go on torture sprees or use dark magic to harm others. But he was beginning to conclude that not all dark magic meant harming others, that the classification and punishment of using dark spells might truly be driven by some unfounded prejudice against those with a darker affinity. And the revelation confused him, and on an even deeper level, scared him. It challenged everything he had accepted from the light and created the crack he knew the Dark Lord needed to make him truly question Dumbledore and the Order. And Voldemort was managing all of that without forcing Harry to come to those conclusions; the teen was arriving at them on his own.
It was these thoughts that clouded Harry's mind as he made his way to the library for another day spent studying and practicing magic under the Dark Lord's every watchful eye. Over the last fortnight, they'd fallen into a cautious routine that was almost predictable to the teen, which frightened him all the more. This was no longer the insane dark lord he'd feared would throw a torture spell every time Harry blinked the wrong way. No, the two weeks Harry had spent under the Dark Lord's tutelage was interesting; Harry might even call it fascinating despite the knife's edge of stress he always felt balanced upon. The teen had learned more than he thought himself capable of in such a brief time and had found an uneasy truce with the Dark Lord, accepting his teaching and feeling stronger and more capable with each passing day.
Opening the heavy oak door, Harry sensed a change immediately as he entered the library. Pausing at the entrance, emerald eyes darted over the still form of the seated Dark Lord. Instead of being found at his normal desk, busy working on whatever Dark Lords did all day, he was seated on the plush couch facing Harry as the teen entered. Dark, simmering scarlet eyes glared at him, unmasked anger palpitating against the cool air. Harry could feel the usually tightly controlled dark magic of the Slytherin drenching the room.
Unsure how to proceed, Harry remained frozen, hovering by the door. He could not think of anything that he'd done to drive Voldemort's anger. Since their argument in the woods, the teen had been mostly compliant. Voldemort hadn't forced him to do anything which truly conflicted with his sensibilities besides the potion, and even that, Harry had difficulty arguing that it was against their agreement. Since the Gryffindor had not been forced to use the potion against anyone and Voldemort had used it as a demonstration to teach him more in half a day about potion brewing than Harry had received during entire semesters at Hogwarts, he was forced to accept that it had been worthwhile.
"Do you think your friends are immune from my displeasure simply because you have agreed to remain here?" The question was more hiss than English, the cold murmur sending a shiver down Harry's spine. Resigned, Harry took a step into the library, allowing the door to close behind him with an ominous thud.
Swallowing, Harry shook his head slowly. He had zero ideas what had brought this on. Eyes darting around the room for any hint, he noticed the clinched letter in the Dark Lord's long pale hands. His heart plummeted. Had his friends finally written back? He'd wondered if Voldemort was keeping post from him in an attempt to make him feel further isolated, making him believe that his friends had abandoned him due to his proclamation that'd he'd become Voldemort's apprentice.
He stepped forward, trepidation filling him as he took the letter from the Slytherin's outstretched hand.
Harry,
Sorry for taking so long to write you mate, we were told not to. That we could not risk it in case it was a trap of some sort. But I can't wait here and let you think we've abandoned you to old snake face. Hermione and I are always here for you! Ginny too. She'd thump me good if I didn't include her. I can't image what you're going through but I know you're stronger than him. You beat him as a baby! And even as first year. Don't give up, we'll rescue you from that psycho murderer if you don't manage to off him before that. Don't let him trick you and don't do anything irreversible. We're safe, he can't get us again, and I know we can help you. Keep faith in yourself and us. I know we'll get you out. We're always behind you, Harry!
Ron
Harry's hands were shaking by the time he'd finished the letter. What had Ron been thinking? Surely, he knew Voldemort would read his letter? Despairingly, he glanced up, meeting the absolutely burning red stare locked on him.
"Please," he whispered, terror sweeping through him. He'd already sacrificed so much to protect them. And it would all be for naught if Voldemort went after his friends with a vengeance. He felt certain their agreement did not cover Ron for such stupidity. Was he trying to provoke Voldemort into attacking him again?
"You know I won't allow such insolence to go unpunished."
"Let me take the punishment," Harry begged, his heart sinking at the sudden gleam in the Slytherin Heir's eye.
"My silly little lion," Voldemort murmured; it was almost fond. The anger was still there, pulsing out a dark aurora, but it had dimmed slightly. It was more measured and controlled. "I will need to break you of this selfless hero's act. It only makes you weak."
Hopeful but equally terrified, Harry dropped his gaze as he shifted his stance nervously. It seemed he had correctly guessed a price that Dark Lord was willing to bargain Ron's punishment for. But he doubted it would result in the same promised torture that his best friend would have received at the wizard's wand. The Slytherin was too conniving to waste such an advantage on simple torture, not when he could do that to Harry anytime he pleased. But what would Voldemort demand of him now? Their first arrangement had been manageable so far. Even though Harry had sacrificed his freedom, he hadn't been forced to sacrifice his morals yet, to do anything reprehensible. He wasn't sure what choice he'd make if faced with that ultimatum and prayed he wasn't about to find out.
"Even if I agree to allow you to take some of the punishment, this blatant provocation can't be left unanswered."
Harry wasn't sure what to say. Staring at the seething wizard, all the reasons the Dark Lord was the most feared being of their time came rushing back. What could he possible do to make him not go after Ron?
"He's a child," Harry murmured, equally aware of the irony of the statement given Ron and him shared the same age. "He was only trying to lift my spirits; he knows how powerful you are." Voldemort was vain, Harry had picked that up during their time together. While the pride was earned and deserved, that didn't mean the wizard didn't immensely enjoy every time Harry looked at him in awe when he accomplished an extremely difficult feat of magic in the teens presences. "I don't know what he was thinking, but it's not like anyone else will ever see this. Please, let me take the punishment and it be done."
Voldemort gave him a cold, assessing look. "Then it must be worth my time," he murmured forebodingly.
Swallowing, Harry nodded, apprehension coursing through him. He could do this, he thought desperately, feeling an entirely new sense of desolation crashing down upon himself.
"You will learn the unforgivables."
Seeing Harry's immediate denial, Voldemort raised a hand, a pulse of pain in Harry's scar accompanying the motion, warning him to be quiet. "I won't make you use it on another being," the 'yet' hung ominously in the air. "You will successfully master all three. That is my price. And no complaints or arguments during the instruction or you will be forced to cast them on humans."
Harry stood there frozen, his thoughts racing. He could not begin to fathom why Ron had written such a letter, knowing Harry was Voldemort's prisoner. Was it false bravado resulting from the redhead's own previous capture? Was it to show off in front of Hermione? It made no sense, his friend was reckless and foolish, but this stupidity was beyond outrageous, even for him. Frowning, Harry glanced back at the seated Dark Lord who was still watching him.
He nodded slowly in consent, not seeing another option. Learning spells that would not be used on others seemed like a small price to pay for his friend's life which he knew was very much in jeopardy.
Seeing the consent, Voldemort smiled. It did not touch his eyes. "We will magically shake on this, I will teach you to infuse your magical core. While not as binding as other oaths, you will feel significant discomfort for a very long time should you renege on your end of the deal."
Harry swallowed. This all seemed too sudden. Voldemort had agreed very readily for something which would have previously put the evil wizard into a murderous rage. It seemed unusual. Either the Dark Lord was saner than the Order thought, or he'd already determined he'd let Harry accept this punishment and the teen had walked directly into his plotting hands.
"And Ron's punishment will be complete? You will take no other actions against him or anyone else?"
Voldemort nodded, sticking out his hand. Harry took an involuntary step closer to the wizard, towards the offered appendage. "If you agree to this now, then the punishment for this offense will be considered paid in full."
Harry glanced at the hand cautiously. Was it foolish to agree to this? He's already cast some of the unforgivable before, and it would not be on living beings. Learning the killing curse scared him, but if he'd learned anything in the last two weeks, it was that there were lots of ways to kill people. If anything, this curse was one of the more humane ways to do it. He was slightly worried that casting all three would guarantee him a cell in Azkaban, that Voldemort would use this to further divide him from the light as an ultimate act of betrayal, but the reality was that his casting had been dipping steadily into darker magic since his training began, he likely had already earned himself a permanent space imprisoned and guarded by the soul-sucking monsters that surrounded the island.
"Okay," he agreed softly, sticking out his own hand.
He was rewarded with a faint nod. "Good boy," Voldemort praised, standing as his eyes assessing him hungrily. "Now focus on your core like when you think of your wandless magic, envision the boundaries holding it back released."
Harry did so, his time practicing the mind arts every night making it an easy action. Sensing the success, Voldemort nodded. "Now you shall make your promise with your core open, I will do the same with mine so that my words are binding as well. Nothing fancy, but state your side of the agreement; the intent is what matters with core magic."
Feeling uneasy, Harry gripped the offered hand. "How do I know this isn't a trick, that this isn't some form of unbreakable bond where you gain more than what you're saying?"
"I suppose you will just have to trust me."
Harry shook his head, "I don't." The words were not biting, just the truth of it. Voldemort snorted in a very non-Dark Lord type of way.
"Smart boy," he agreed. "But in this, I speak the truth. You will feel it as well and I will allow you to choose your own wording. Sealing it with your core forces accountability but nothing as dramatic as an unbreakable vow. Lords and Ladies use them often as a sign of goodwill when entering into formal agreements between houses. The Lord's book I provided you will have a section on it. And unless you are willing to risk your friend experiencing my wrath, you truly do not have a choice."
Sighing, Harry nodded, not seeing much of a way out. He knew what he'd be studying the rest of the day. Once again, he was struck by just how little he knew and understood of the world he was supposed to enter and even save. Why hadn't this ever been taught? It seemed like an important thing to know.
"Good, I shall open my core and we will begin."
Harry felt the Dark Lord's magical signature suddenly increase. The immediate feeling of darkness washing out was staggering.
"I, Lord Voldemort, Lord and heir of house Slytherin and Gaunt, reigning Lord of the Dark, do swear to absolve Ronald Weasley of any earned punishment as agreed upon with Heir Harry James Potter, on the condition that he upholds his promise to learn to cast the three unforgivable spells." He stopped, giving Harry a meaningful look.
"I, Harry James Potter," he paused, wondering if he was supposed to include anything about his role as Potter heir. Being unsure, he pushed on, certain Voldemort would make him redo it if he was wrong, but adding his ancestry felt right, like magic herself was guiding him. "Heir and Lord Apparent of House Potter, do swear to learn to cast the three unforgivable, not with the intent to be used against another," he added, giving Voldemort a pointed look, which seemed to only amuse the Dark Lord. "As the condition set to absolve any punishment cast on Ron Weasley."
He could feel the magic settle over them, tightening around both wizards. It was complete. He'd sworn it and now would have to learn the three most banned spells in existence. Harry could not believe how quickly he was further falling into the Dark Lord's grasp.
"Good, your friend deserves a horrible death, but I am satisfied. Resume your previous studies, I will let you know when I will teach you unforgivables. I need to make sure your power control is adequate before you try."
Harry nodded again, feeling slightly num. He could scarcely believe this had just happened, that Ron had written that and that he'd bartered such tabooed instruction to keep his friend free. It made zero sense. Harry shook his head fractionally, frowning down at the floor. Ron was many things, but even he was not this dumb. And surely Hermione would have stopped him from sending something so pigheaded. He sincerely doubted Ron would not have consulted with their brainy best friend, especially if his actions were against Dumbledore's direct orders.
Voldemort must have noticed his change. "You have something more you wish to say?" He asked, cocking his slightly to the side as he considered the teen.
Frown deepening, Harry was unsure if he should voice his thoughts out loud, unsure what Voldemort's response would be. But the more he considered it, the more certain he felt that something else was afoot. And since he had already drawn Voldemort's attention that he had a concern, he knew it would be near impossible to sidetrack the wizard.
"Is this letter real, did Ron actually write it?" Harry asked, considering the letter then lifting his emerald gaze back up. It certainly looked like Ron's untidy scrawl. The words and flow of it sounded like his best friend, even if the content was outrageous.
The red orbs seemed to almost glow in intensity as Voldemort considered him. No overt emotions were visible, Harry had no idea what the Dark Lord was thinking behind his perfectly crafted mask. "Yes, this is from your friend." The confirmation didn't truly surprise Harry, but there was still something nagging him in the back of his mind.
"Was he spelled to write this?" He asked quietly, intently studying the wizard for any indications that he was correct. The smallest twitch of the wizard's lips revealed everything he needed to know. He knew the Dark Lord well enough at this point to know the wizard had allowed him to see the movement intentionally.
"Very good." The praise washed over him like freezing rain, making Harry shiver. All of this was a game, a game that could have cost his friend's life. Would Voldemort have carried out the punishment if Harry had not volunteered to take a punishment in his stead? Would Harry still be held to his end of the deal even though it was made on false pretenses?
Suddenly feeling drained, Harry slowly sat down on the couch across from the Dark Lord, the master he's sworn to learn from and the man who'd just tricked him into a promise to learn the unforgivable.
"Why?" Was the simple question, exhaustion consuming him.
"You will learn to become more discerning, to not be so trusting. Next time the consequences will be more severe."
Feeling empty, Harry shook his head. How was he supposed to stand up against someone as powerful or conniving as Voldemort? He felt grossly ill-equipped or prepared. Once again, a wave of failure washed over him as he considered how correct Dumbledore had been that he was no match for the Dark Lord's mind games.
"I thought you'd promised me more freedom under your rule?" Harry asked bitterly. "Instead, I must stumble through your lies and deceit, my friend's lives held in the balance."
"I am fulfilling my end of the bargain, Harry. This is a lesson you can only learn through experience. If you cannot discern traps from reality and believe everything placed before you, then you are a fool, and this weakness will continue to be used against you. Be grateful you lost very little in this exchange. If you had not figured it out on your own, then the next lesson would have been all the more painful, the stakes higher."
"So, you will continue to do this, trick me and use my friends?"
"Harry, I am your master, I will do whatever I desire, both to you and your friends. You should never take for granted what power I have over you." The Gryffindor grimaced, intense feelings of loathing and hatred coursing through him at how casually Voldemort was willing to trick and use him. "But this time, it was meant to be something you learn from. You must remove the naïve lens through which you look at the world. If you hope to no longer be used by everyone around you, then you must grow wiser and stronger. That is the only way you will ever be free."
"Except from you," Harry muttered.
Voldemort shrugged, "if you'd recognized the trick for what it was earlier, I would have been pleased, I would not have forced the oath. That you recognized it at all is satisfactory enough that I won't further punish you beyond making you learn the unforgivables."
"I still have to learn them?" The bitterness in the teen's voice was not difficult to pick up on. Voldemort narrowed his eyes.
"Yes, as agreed upon in your core oath," he affirmed. "A consequence of your actions that you will learn from."
Harry shook his head, frustrated and confused. "A consequence? You forced me to take the oath. Anytime I refuse you, I'm punished. Was your desire for me to fight you on the oath as well?"
Voldemort shook his head, "you can't fight me, and I'd advise that you don't try. The test was to see the deception, to not so willingly compromise yourself as you flaunt your weakness of unconditionally caring for others.
"You immediately and blindly accepted the punishment meant for another. You spent zero time gathering the facts or negotiating the price. And you immediately accepted the means of a core oath which you know nothing about." The Dark Lord released a measured breath. "If it weren't for the fact that your actions only put yourself more firmly in my grasp, I'd punish you for those missteps as well. This time I'll explain it to you; for your sake, I hope you learn. I will not accept a fool for an apprentice, and if others try and use these weaknesses against you, you will quickly learn that I do not share. You should think twice before compromising yourself in any way which hinders my own control over you."
Harry shook his head, the harsh reality of the words washing over him. Voldemort saw him so securely as an item, something only for Voldemort to control. And the teen did not doubt that the Dark Lord very much believed that. Anger washed through him at the thought. "Why are you telling me all this?"
"Because you are still a child, despite your bravery and survival of experiences that many grown adults would not have been able to navigate. I want you to learn, be wiser, more cunning so that you will no longer be another's puppet."
"Except for you, being your puppet." The teen felt cold at his casual observation.
"I want you smart enough to recognize my own games. I've always been upfront that I intend to control you, that you are mine. But that does not mean I want you oblivious. You will accept my control, but with it comes power and freedom unlike any you could have achieved under Dumbledore's restrictive guidance."
Shrugging, not have a response, Harry stood, walking back to his desk. He could feel the assessing eyes track his movement as he sat down and stared at the stack of books, all grey and dark magic titles. This was a new level of manipulation, one Harry felt foolish for not anticipating. He should have guessed that even with his oaths and taking the Dark Lord's mark that he would not be satisfied without complete control of the teen. And that meant controlling him to such a degree that he'd never think to rebel. He'd masterfully manipulated Harry in a matter of moments to learn forbidden wielding, to sacrifice himself and take a punishment that Harry had not earned. And he'd deftly done in such a way that Harry had been so terrified for his friend's life that he hadn't thought twice about it.
He glared at the books, a realization washing over him. He was naïve and weak. A child that the Dark Lord could manipulate at will. And if he ever wanted freedom, to have any control, then he would have to get stronger and smarter. Pulling one of the darker tombs over to him and opening the cover, Harry stared down unseeing. If this was his lot in life then he could no longer afford to remain an innocent child. He would not dance to the Dark Lord's tune and mindlessly follow, he had to better, get stronger.
He resolved himself to learn, to take everything he could from Voldemort, but not to be a perfect puppet. Instead, he would cut the strings. It may take a while, he had a long way to go, but Harry felt conviction rush through him. Yes, he thought, he would learn from this, just as Voldemort intended. But in a way to use this knowledge against his 'master'. Harry would find a way to keep his friends safe and someday be free. Someday, Voldemrot would not know what hit him.
A/N: There you go! Please review. Bit of a stage-setting chapter. I hope you like the direction this is going!
