The Hunt

Chapter 5

Charges

Slap. "Just do it, boy, are you a wizard or not!" Harry growled and concentrated, he was a wizard damn it who was he to… Just then a fire sprung from in front of his hand lighting the candle in front of him. He scowled at Lucius, rubbing his cheek.

"Fine I got it." Slap.

"You haven't got anything. You will do it again, and you will do other things until you become a wizard. As of now you are not fit for the name of wizard, you are lower then anything I have seen in quite some time. Until you rid yourself of your crutch you are nothing but a muggle with a stick." Lucius was standing over him now, screaming in his face. Harry almost cowered away, but held his ground. He blew out the candle, placed his hand over it and concentrated on his anger, seconds passed before it lit, and died. His eyes flashed with anger, the candle was lit. He continued in this pattern until it was lit upon his own will, not his anger.

Lucius had long ago left to finish his own work, upon his return he found Animus snapping his fingers and the candle was replaced by a large flame, the wax melted and was left in a pool upon the table. "Good that is a beginning. You have earned the title of mage now, a student of magic, but until you can do the most basic things without a focus you will not be a wizard.

"Try an unlocking charm." Lucius told him, then left again. Harry took his wand from the holster at his hip, conjured a padlock. Putting his wand away, he again called upon his anger to help him. Anger was the easiest access to his magic, it allowed for quick powerful contact. He saw the lock popping open in his mind, but could not find the anger. His pushed a finger to the padlock, nothing. He raised his fist and pounded it in frustration, nothing.

He didn't need emotion to do this, he did the fire without emotion after awhile. Lucius was right, he was no wizard; he just traded one focus for another. A wizard does magic because he can do magic. To be a wizard, his mind and his magic must work as one. He commanded his magic, he did not ask to use his magic, did not plead with it for usage, it was his to do with as he pleased. He ordered the lock to open, and it did. He ordered the candle out of existence. He ordered the lock to be a candle, he was in control, he was a wizard.

Again Lucius came by to check on him. When Lucius entered Harry conjured a sword, wandless, and gave it to Lucius, knelt before him. "Please name me wizard." Lucius nodded, put the sword on top of his head and spoke.

"You are a wizard, Animus Acerbus." Harry rose with a smile and a laugh, Lucius laughed as well, but grew serious. He accepted the sword from Lucius and created a scabbard and placed it on his opposite hip from his wand. "There is little else that you will be able to learn from me, you have exceeded all expectations put before you. The Dark arts are yours to command; you know the blackest of all magicks and the most powerful of them as well. You will be a formidable enemy for all your foes. You and your Family will always be welcome among the Malfoys, let none break this bond." Lucius grabbed his forearm, while Harry did the same, the bond of two families was a very strong social connection, it neared the magical level. "The only thing you need to know is that you must know your limits and do not cross them, using more magic then you are capable of handling is not healthy and could in fact kill you. Goodbye." Harry wondered how Lucius knew he was leaving know.

"Goodbye Lucius, you have taught me well, I hope I will make you proud." Harry bowed, gathered his things that were scattered about the Malfoy Manner, said goodbye to Narcissa and Draco.

Back in his apartment in the city, he started setting up his living room. He took a book from a shelf on the far side of the room. His apartment had gotten steadily larger as his magical skill grew, making it into nearly a penthouse, what was once a small three room flat. He opened the book to a marked page, re-read it again and again. The side-affects were not serious, but combined with other rituals he would later perform; it would change his whole personality.

He created an alter, with ceremonial knife made of obsidian. One end of the alter had a small rivulet heading towards the end and what looked like a gutter. He needed a person without contact with magic, to be sacrificed.

The decision to do this had been a long one in the making, when he had found the ritual spell, the affects were perfect, but the thought of sacrificing a person had sickened him then. Now it bothered him, but his mantra of for the greater good had carried him a long way, and one life was not going to stop him now. For a person untouched by magic, that would be difficult to find as almost all regions of the world had magical communities, except for one, the northern reaches of Siberia. There were few villages up there but they were untouched by magic. He had scouted one out, and found the person he would use. The spell did not call for a specific kind of person, so he chose an older man that lived alone.

When he reached the house he opened the door and strode into the living room where the man was sitting in a chair reading a strange book. "Excuse me? Can I help you?" The man spoke in surprisingly unaccented English.

"I have come to take you with me."

"Could I know your name?"

"I am Death."

"Are you now? How fascinating, carry on then." The man seemed totally unperturbed, Harry shook his head sadly.

"Unfortunately for you it will be painful." Harry drew his wand, silencing the house and closing it off to others. He placed the wand to the man's neck right where the jugular vein resided. He pressed against the spot, and started to release dark magic directly into the man's blood. He seemed too shocked by the pain to scream. He continued pouring it in until he saw black in his veins instead of red.

Taking hold of the man's arm he apperated to his apartment, setting the man quickly unto the alter, he would soon be dead from the dark magic in his blood. He obsidian knife glittered ominously. He pulled the man's shirt off. He took the knife in steady hands, and pushed it into the man's chest, as far as it could go. The blood came gushing forward, black as night. It flowed into the gutters at the side of the table, filling them and staining the stone black. Harry cast a charm to keep the blood moving; otherwise it would congeal. He took a silver goblet from behind him, filled it with the blood, and he drank. Harry collapsed to the floor. Convulsing with pain. Blissful unconsciousness came to him.

Harry woke late the next day. He couldn't remember the date; it had been so long since he had cared. The pain from the night before had stayed with him, if to a smaller degree. He hurried to the bathroom; he threw up into the sink, and up came red blood. It had worked, he thought with detachment. The blood carried the dark magic in a form that his body could absorb. The blood coming back up normal meant that he had been able to absorb the magic. He could have done it with pure light magic as well, it would have been exactly the same, but if he used light magic as a booster, his light magic would have been stronger. Now with the dark magic in his body, his dark magic was strengthened.

Tonight was his first meeting with the dark lord. It would be him and Lucius. The dark lord would assess his abilities and decide where to place him among the ranks. Harry hoped he would get somewhere close to the dark lord himself; otherwise his whole plot would be for nothing. Hopefully he could convince the dark lord that he was good enough for his service.

He checked the mirror again, his nervousness convincing him that something was wrong. But nothing was. He sighed and he took several deep breaths. With that he apperated to Lucius. They greeted each other, Lucius nodding at his attire. Then Lucius grabbed his arm in pain, he held onto Harry apperating away.

Harry found himself in front of a small dwelling, a one floor cottage. He walked slightly behind Lucius, back straight, head up, and eyes down. Inside he found first a small coat room, he continued through behind Lucius into the main area of the house. It reminded him of the scene he had seen in his first vision back at the beginning of fourth year. The tall chair was facing the doorway he had walked through, with a large fireplace framing it. Voldemort sat with his fingers tips together, fully back in the chair.

Lucius bent to one knee and rose again. Following the procedure that Lucius had taught him, Harry knelt on both knees and dropped his head, full submission. Voldemort took his wand, placed it against the boys head, this was Animus' sign to stand. He stood and dropped back until he was a step behind Lucius.

"Animus Acerbus, what is your greatest desire?"

"For my lineage to continue on after me, to be the head of a large and influential family." The best answer he could give, at least that was as Lucius had told him.

"What do you have to offer me?"

"My gifts, my wand, and my life." The tone of ritual had descended upon the room.

"Good, then let this be the mark to remember all that you give." Voldemort signaled to him, Animus strode forward, rolled his sleeve up and knelt again. The dark lord's wand pressed into his skin,

"Morsmordre." The magic swept through him, connecting him to the Dark Lord, and to his other marked ones. The small tattoo settled into his skin, and stared menacingly up at him.

"Thank you my Lord." He rose and stood at equal distance to Lucius.

"Let us talk, Lucius you may go. You told me you were a Parsletongue? Have you learned of the magic performed in this language?"

"All I was taught in my apprenticeship was the Dark arts of Battle and Assignation. The magicks used with parsletongue I have never heard of."

"Ah, you will have to come to me for learning, I teach my lieutenants personally, and the same shall be of you." The smile was of a type of contentedness.

"My Lord honors me with such a position for a fresh recruit." He did not say it outright, but he was quite curious as to why he was a lieutenant and he had just got the mark, but one's life expectancy goes down considerably when you question the dark lord.

"I can smell the dark magic in you. It is a scent that can only be achieved two ways; one by using dark magic for years upon years, as I have; or by performing dark magic rituals that infuse it into your body. I believe what happened is obvious. With this ritual you have surpassed other marked ones in usefulness."

"My lord knows all."

"Indeed. Now you will be in charge of a number of lower marked ones, twenty at most. When we go into battle you will be in charge of them, you will hand out punishment as you see fit for transgressions, but I tell you now if any one of them even looks backwards you will kill him understand? You will make them come to you using your mark, you will make them train, and you will make them into machines, understand? They will look to you in support that you must give them, they cannot get this from me, I hope you realize why. But you must not be afraid to punish should need arise. Now I will see you on the Eve of Christmas to see your progress." The dark lord gave him the names of which he would be in charge of, and how to use his mark to call them. "You are dismissed." Animus knelt and left quickly.

He hoped he could meet the dark lords commands, he did not need to feel the cruciotus anytime soon.