"You're nothing but a bastard child," Vernon had spat. "I'll bet your
mother was a whore! Just like her to be one! Your whole family was a bunch
of bloody freaks!"
Harry had turned his head and accepted the tirade. Anything to end the onslaught of insults that his uncle hurled at him. Anything to stop the pain.
*******
"Harry fucking Potter. You think you're so special, don't you. Just because Dumbledore says so. Well, my father says he's a crackpot old fool, and I think that if it came down to it, my father is more powerful, and has more powerful alliances than that old fool will ever have," said Draco arrogantly, eyes narrowed in contempt.
Harry resisted the urge to snap back at the other boy. "You're father is powerful. And he does have many powerful alliances. He's lucky in that way," he said softly, startling the other boy into silence.
*************
"Oh come off it, Harry! You think you're so fucking perfect! Like you have to listen to no one! You're not! You're just an ordinary boy! You hear that? An ordinary boy! Nothing special! A little bit of money and a freak accident! That's all you are!" screamed Ron, chest heaving, face bright red.
Harry looked straight at him. "You're right, you know. I am nothing special. Nothing at all," he said.
Ron looked horribly taken aback, face flushed with guilt. "Harry, I'm sorry, so sorry, I didn't mean it" he began, taking a step forward.
Harry held his arm out. "No. Don't. You're right. I'm nothing." He turned and left.
***************
"Harry Potter. What a pleasant surprise. Although considering the circumstances, I'd say you were the one who just experienced the pleasant surprise," said Voldemort, walking slowly towards the bed containing the two men.
Harry's head snapped toward the voice, his eyes growing wide in horror. He tried to squirm out from beneath Lucius, but the other man's body pressed him into the bed.
"What are you doing?" exclaimed Harry. "Are you fucking out of your mind?" He glared up at Lucius, who looked down into his face, a curious expression across his own.
"Harry, my boy, you do realize that you're not going anywhere, I assume," said the Dark Lord, the corners of his face tugging upwards into a sadistic smirk. The look on his face chilled Harry's heart, sent ice running through his veins, turned him very, very cold.
"This was set up, wasn't it?" he asked, feeling Lucius' strong arms holding him against the bed. He looked at Voldemort. "You're a bloody moron. Everyone knows that," he said. He turned his attention back to Lucius. "But you. I expected better....but why would I? I should have known all along you'd still be a bastard," he said, quietly but venomously.
"That's enough, Mr. Potter," said Voldemort, as he stepped closer to the bed. He ran a finger down Lucius' spine, causing the other man to shiver, and then turn his head away. He continued to stroke the other man's skin, though his eyes never left Harry's. They bore right into him, as though trying to figure out everything that lay beneath their brilliant emerald exterior, as though attempting to pull his soul out, right from his body.
His hand left Lucius, and moved to touch Harry's skin, stroking softly. Harry flinched but didn't pull away. He willed his eyes to glare back at Voldemort, tried his best to send him his message of contempt and disgust, tried to blind him with his hatred of him. The touch of those long, cold fingers was horrible, it sent daggers of ice shooting through him, made his breath come in short gasps, caused his head to swim.
And then they were gone, as the Dark Lord drew his hand away, though leaving his eyes still trained on Harry's. A thoughtful expression showed in them, as though he was pondering something.
"Harry," he said, " we have a proposition for you."
Harry laughed bitterly, glancing quickly up at Lucius, whose head was still turned, eyes avoiding his.
"I'll bet that you do," he said harshly, feeling his legs becoming numb, as Lucius grew tired and started laying his body atop Harry's.
"You've probably kidnapped a friend or something. I'll bet you're going to offer me a swap, them for Dumbledore, or something like that."
Voldemort chuckled darkly. "No, although I'll keep that idea in mind." He took a step closer. "I want you to join me. Willingly, preferably."
Harry stared at him, as though he had grown another head. "You WHAT? You want ME, to join You?" he said, and then started laughing. He laughed harder and harder, fearing he that if he stopped he'd go crazy. "That's ridiculous," he finally said, attempting to catch his breath. "You've always wanted me dead."
Voldemort quirked an eyebrow. "Maybe, when you were younger. I considered you a nuisance, a little boy with too much stupid bravery. But I've watched you, Harry. You're much different now - darker, more sinister. You can feel the darkness now, Harry, can't you? It's all around you. Your aura is as black as midnight. You're ripe now," he said, his voice as sharp as a razor blade, eyes dancing maliciously.
"Never," said Harry. "Never, I would never join you," he said. "You killed my parents, you killed my friends, you've killed over and over again, and you expect me to join you? Have I no common sense? Have I no morals? The day I join you is the day the world ends," he spat. He figured that he now had nothing else to lose.
He tried to sit up, but Lucius' hands were suddenly pressing his shoulders into the bed. "If I were you, I would not treat the Dark Lord as such," he said.
"I don't care what you think!" spat Harry. "I listened to you once, and look where that got me!"
"Enough!" yelled Voldemort. "Enough. You have chosen to disobey me. Let us see, then, how you deal with the consequences." He opened the door, and motioned for someone outside to come in. A man came into the room, pushing someone else in front of him. Someone with silky, blonde hair, someone elegant and proud...another Malfoy
Draco.
He first saw the Dark Lord, and glared at him, not with hatred, but with annoyance. Then he saw his father, and his eyes widened considerably. And then he saw Harry, beneath his father's body. His eyes widened again, and then filled with pain, a look that tore Harry's heart, that made his stomach churn. And then his eyes filled with anger. They turned a dark, dark grey, almost black. His other emotions were quickly shuttered behind the darkness, and this made Harry's heart plummet, made bile rise in his throat, made his throat constrict.
"Well," said Draco after some time. "Harry. Harry the fucking whore. I should have known you'd be fucking around. You sad excuse for a person." His eyes were still full of hatred, his face loosing any of the color that it once had. "You sad, sad fucker."
Voldemort looked pleased. He moved to stand behind Draco, and put his arm on his shoulder. "So, young Draco," he said, "now you see the real Harry. Now you know how treacherous he is - how very disgusting."
Draco continued to stare straight at Harry. Voldemort continued. "I am giving you the option, Mister Malfoy, to put an end to this," here he paused, his gaze following Dracos', "abomination."
He pulled Draco's wand from his pocket. "Here, Mister Malfoy," he said, handing the wand to Draco. Draco snatched it. "All you have to do is say the words. Two, simple words, and it's all over. Two, simple words, and there's no more pain, no more heartache, no more Harry," the Dark Lord whispered, voice cold as ice.
Draco glanced down at the wand, then at Harry, then back to the wand. He raised the wand. He pointed it right at Harry.
"Goodbye, Harry," he said, his voice quiet and heartbreaking.
Harry had turned his head and accepted the tirade. Anything to end the onslaught of insults that his uncle hurled at him. Anything to stop the pain.
*******
"Harry fucking Potter. You think you're so special, don't you. Just because Dumbledore says so. Well, my father says he's a crackpot old fool, and I think that if it came down to it, my father is more powerful, and has more powerful alliances than that old fool will ever have," said Draco arrogantly, eyes narrowed in contempt.
Harry resisted the urge to snap back at the other boy. "You're father is powerful. And he does have many powerful alliances. He's lucky in that way," he said softly, startling the other boy into silence.
*************
"Oh come off it, Harry! You think you're so fucking perfect! Like you have to listen to no one! You're not! You're just an ordinary boy! You hear that? An ordinary boy! Nothing special! A little bit of money and a freak accident! That's all you are!" screamed Ron, chest heaving, face bright red.
Harry looked straight at him. "You're right, you know. I am nothing special. Nothing at all," he said.
Ron looked horribly taken aback, face flushed with guilt. "Harry, I'm sorry, so sorry, I didn't mean it" he began, taking a step forward.
Harry held his arm out. "No. Don't. You're right. I'm nothing." He turned and left.
***************
"Harry Potter. What a pleasant surprise. Although considering the circumstances, I'd say you were the one who just experienced the pleasant surprise," said Voldemort, walking slowly towards the bed containing the two men.
Harry's head snapped toward the voice, his eyes growing wide in horror. He tried to squirm out from beneath Lucius, but the other man's body pressed him into the bed.
"What are you doing?" exclaimed Harry. "Are you fucking out of your mind?" He glared up at Lucius, who looked down into his face, a curious expression across his own.
"Harry, my boy, you do realize that you're not going anywhere, I assume," said the Dark Lord, the corners of his face tugging upwards into a sadistic smirk. The look on his face chilled Harry's heart, sent ice running through his veins, turned him very, very cold.
"This was set up, wasn't it?" he asked, feeling Lucius' strong arms holding him against the bed. He looked at Voldemort. "You're a bloody moron. Everyone knows that," he said. He turned his attention back to Lucius. "But you. I expected better....but why would I? I should have known all along you'd still be a bastard," he said, quietly but venomously.
"That's enough, Mr. Potter," said Voldemort, as he stepped closer to the bed. He ran a finger down Lucius' spine, causing the other man to shiver, and then turn his head away. He continued to stroke the other man's skin, though his eyes never left Harry's. They bore right into him, as though trying to figure out everything that lay beneath their brilliant emerald exterior, as though attempting to pull his soul out, right from his body.
His hand left Lucius, and moved to touch Harry's skin, stroking softly. Harry flinched but didn't pull away. He willed his eyes to glare back at Voldemort, tried his best to send him his message of contempt and disgust, tried to blind him with his hatred of him. The touch of those long, cold fingers was horrible, it sent daggers of ice shooting through him, made his breath come in short gasps, caused his head to swim.
And then they were gone, as the Dark Lord drew his hand away, though leaving his eyes still trained on Harry's. A thoughtful expression showed in them, as though he was pondering something.
"Harry," he said, " we have a proposition for you."
Harry laughed bitterly, glancing quickly up at Lucius, whose head was still turned, eyes avoiding his.
"I'll bet that you do," he said harshly, feeling his legs becoming numb, as Lucius grew tired and started laying his body atop Harry's.
"You've probably kidnapped a friend or something. I'll bet you're going to offer me a swap, them for Dumbledore, or something like that."
Voldemort chuckled darkly. "No, although I'll keep that idea in mind." He took a step closer. "I want you to join me. Willingly, preferably."
Harry stared at him, as though he had grown another head. "You WHAT? You want ME, to join You?" he said, and then started laughing. He laughed harder and harder, fearing he that if he stopped he'd go crazy. "That's ridiculous," he finally said, attempting to catch his breath. "You've always wanted me dead."
Voldemort quirked an eyebrow. "Maybe, when you were younger. I considered you a nuisance, a little boy with too much stupid bravery. But I've watched you, Harry. You're much different now - darker, more sinister. You can feel the darkness now, Harry, can't you? It's all around you. Your aura is as black as midnight. You're ripe now," he said, his voice as sharp as a razor blade, eyes dancing maliciously.
"Never," said Harry. "Never, I would never join you," he said. "You killed my parents, you killed my friends, you've killed over and over again, and you expect me to join you? Have I no common sense? Have I no morals? The day I join you is the day the world ends," he spat. He figured that he now had nothing else to lose.
He tried to sit up, but Lucius' hands were suddenly pressing his shoulders into the bed. "If I were you, I would not treat the Dark Lord as such," he said.
"I don't care what you think!" spat Harry. "I listened to you once, and look where that got me!"
"Enough!" yelled Voldemort. "Enough. You have chosen to disobey me. Let us see, then, how you deal with the consequences." He opened the door, and motioned for someone outside to come in. A man came into the room, pushing someone else in front of him. Someone with silky, blonde hair, someone elegant and proud...another Malfoy
Draco.
He first saw the Dark Lord, and glared at him, not with hatred, but with annoyance. Then he saw his father, and his eyes widened considerably. And then he saw Harry, beneath his father's body. His eyes widened again, and then filled with pain, a look that tore Harry's heart, that made his stomach churn. And then his eyes filled with anger. They turned a dark, dark grey, almost black. His other emotions were quickly shuttered behind the darkness, and this made Harry's heart plummet, made bile rise in his throat, made his throat constrict.
"Well," said Draco after some time. "Harry. Harry the fucking whore. I should have known you'd be fucking around. You sad excuse for a person." His eyes were still full of hatred, his face loosing any of the color that it once had. "You sad, sad fucker."
Voldemort looked pleased. He moved to stand behind Draco, and put his arm on his shoulder. "So, young Draco," he said, "now you see the real Harry. Now you know how treacherous he is - how very disgusting."
Draco continued to stare straight at Harry. Voldemort continued. "I am giving you the option, Mister Malfoy, to put an end to this," here he paused, his gaze following Dracos', "abomination."
He pulled Draco's wand from his pocket. "Here, Mister Malfoy," he said, handing the wand to Draco. Draco snatched it. "All you have to do is say the words. Two, simple words, and it's all over. Two, simple words, and there's no more pain, no more heartache, no more Harry," the Dark Lord whispered, voice cold as ice.
Draco glanced down at the wand, then at Harry, then back to the wand. He raised the wand. He pointed it right at Harry.
"Goodbye, Harry," he said, his voice quiet and heartbreaking.