Dear reader, I thank you. I don't know what will be my summary for this story but I already know, it won't be a good one.. so thank you for checking this out.
Alright. I write this when I'm depressed, so if you're looking for a nice story, with nice characters, who always fight for the light. Sorry, but it's not here. This will be a dark fic, at least I hope it will. It is rated R for violence, blood and those kind of things. There may be some R for sex but I don't think I'll go into details, so if you're looking for that, sorry to disappoint you but not here. .. Humm I think that's all.. Thank you for your time..
I am sorry dear reader who saw my mistake.. its your blood tastes so sweet and not tates.. sorry..
Disclaimer : This is not mine, and I am not paid for this.
Your blood tastes so sweet.
Prologue
That's what I've become. That's what I am now. That is the only thing I did by myself. I am proud, I'm strong. I am my own master. No one's puppet anymore.
This, ladies and gentlemen, is my life.
I read a biography when I was younger. The author wrote three books. One concerning her life, it was the third, and two other for each one of her parents. She believed that she had to introduce them before herself.
I no my family, no ancestors, no parents. I don't know the mother I could have had would have smiled at me, I don't know how she'd sound when she'd be angry at me. I have no one to impress, no one I'd want to be proud of me. That sad ? maybe.
I am my own person, I have no attachment to anyone. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the reason of my success.
A long time ago, a wise person told me : "enjoy your life, for it a gift that can be easily taken away", I killed him. I drank his blood. I ate his heart. It tasted so sweet on my tongue. Vengeance, my friends, is a marvelous feeling.
I am born to kill. My conception had an aim. My genitors didn't love each other, they didn't care about each other, they meant nothing to each other. They just had the noble task to conceive me, and disappear.
All my life has been a lie. My memories, horrible memories anchored in my head are just an illusion. They never existed. They were created and put in my head. "By whom ?" you would ask.
Albus Dumbledore.
He needed someone to defeat Riddle. For ever. Only the powerful ones could do that. But they would endanger their life. Also, The One had to be chosen young, so he could learn.
No one wanted to give their children. I understand. Who would have wanted their own flesh predestined to a life of fear, despair, blood and murder ?
So they created me. They took two powerful members of their grand Order, and here I come in the picture. James Potter. Lily Evans. Two perfect persons. Intelligent, gifted with and in magic. Looking like they would care about a child, loving people. Lovely persons. Admirable courage and strength. After all, they had to sacrifice something their child.
If they had cared.
I was born. They created me. Hot, beast-like sex. They did not made love like I could have imagined. My mother did not moaned his name, she did not look into his eyes, she did not say "I love you". He did not say "I love you too". He did not looked at her lovingly.
"Get on with it" that would be her.
Later, all that would have been heard could be "Fuck me hard !". No "make love to me", just "fuck me".
I tried to find them. But, they were already dead. I had imagined so many scenarios in which, I'd come knocking at their doors. I would have said something like " Hey Mom, remember me". I'd have killed her. I'd have killed him. I wonder if their blood would be as sweet as this one's. Of course. Vengeance is always sweet my dears.
I wonder how they died. I wish it was slow, painful. How I wish I could have been the one to do it.
But I didn't. He did. He may have thought they would come to me, when they'd have seen what he was doing with their child. I highly doubt it, but one can dream. Right ?
Would you give your child to someone ?
Would you give your child, so he would become a weapon ?
Would you give your child, so he would become a puppet ?
I'm talking to you, ladies and gentlemen, mothers and fathers. Would you ?
If you were this child, how would you react ?
Would you accept, and play the role of a weapon ?
Would you accept and be submissive ?
Would you accept and smile ? Even though your heart beats so fast you think it's going to explode. The tears running on your cheeks. Betrayal, anger, powerless, weak. That's what you become.
In front of you, this man that you trusted with your life. Smiling at you, saying "everything is going to be alright Harry". All your memories. Everything flashes. Mom. Lies. Dad. Lies Dursleys. Lies. Sirius. Lies. Cupboard. Lies. School. Lies. Hogwarts. Lies. Friends. Lies.
I ran away. Crying, screaming in anger. I was nothing. I had been lied to all my life. It was a lie. I was a lie.
I found Ron and Hermione, my loyal friends. Told them everything.
"It was about time the old man told me", he said. He knew. She understood. She looked at him and asked if he were aware of the situation. He was of course. His parents were part of the Order. They were a lie. Motherly Molly. Lies. Just sweet lies. He was two years older than me. Dumbledore had asked him to befriend me… "So I wouldn't be alone", he said. So I could be controlled, I thought.
I remember looking at Hermione. She was solemn. Her face was unreadable.
She looked at him, watched his features. Caressed his face, slowly and she smiled. Then, she turned, looked at me, took my hand and we left.
"You'd better, tell him goodbye because next time we see him, he'll be dead."
That was the end of Harry Potter and Hermione Granger.
We were in sixth year at that time. Ronald took his aspics and left.
Hermione forced me to study everything. From arithmancy to divination. How to become an Animagus, a Metamorphmagus. Anything on the dark arts that we could find.
I decided to make the Order believe that I did trust them. With my new found eagerness to learn, I convinced Dumbie to teach me every single thing he knew. They gave me the knowledge. I learnt how to fight with weapons, with my body and with magic. I practiced with Hermione.
Then, by the end of the seventh year, we disappeared.
That is my friends the beginning of my vengeance.
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