A/N: I really don't have an Author's Note for this chapter. It just seems weird if I don't write something here.

CH23: Defense Against the Light Arts

Harry sat on his bed, flipping through 'Quidditch Through The Ages', before a knock sounded on his door.

"Come in," he said tiredly. The same thing had been happening every morning for the past week. A Death Eater would come into his room, he would be summoned to eat breakfast with Voldemort, he'd go back up to his room to read, he'd eat lunch, he'd spend the afternoon listening various people drone on about blood purity, then dinner, lather, rinse, and repeat.

It was really getting old.

"Morning, Potter," Malfoy greeted as he pushed open the bedroom door. "Out Lord wants to see you."

"Once more he's sending you to fetch me, Lucius? I guess it's true what they say: you can't teach an old dog new tricks."

"Just hurry up!"


"Good morning, Tom," said Harry as he plopped down into his usual chair.

"Ah, Harry. As bright and sarcastic as always I see." Voldemort was sitting in his high-back chair, causually sipping an orange juice and reading the paper. And, unless Harry was very much mistaken, he was humming?

"What's put you in such a good mood this morning?"

Voldemort smiled indulgently at him and Harry had to repress a shudder. "Today is the day that you take the next step to becoming a true Death Eater."

"Sounds like fun. So what's first? Some arson, a little larceny, lessons on how to pull off that black cloak and mask look?"

He ignored him. "Today, Harry, you start your training."

"Training for what?"


"My Lord," Bellatrix said as soon as he and Voldemort arrived in the room. She bowed low.

"I'll leave you two at it then." He left.

"Hello, young Mr. Potter." She grinned and held out her hand. "Ready to begin?"

Harry gave her a wary look. "Exactly what am I supposed to be learning?"

The grin broadened. "The Dark Arts, of course."


"Come on, Harry! You can do better than that!" Bellatrix said for the one hundredth time that day.

"Maybe my heart's just not in it." Harry eyed the mouse on the table.

"Haven't you ever wanted to cause someone pain? To feel the power of taking a life away?"

"Just your master's."

Bellatrix growled, frustrated by her student. "Let's try something else." She came up behind Harry and put her hands on his shoulders. "Close your eyes." He gave her a suspicious look, but complied. "Alright." Bellatrix's soothing voice penetrated his mind. "Think of the person that you hate most in the world."

Images flashed before his eyes. Voldemort. Draco Malfoy. Peter Pettigrew. His Uncle. Dudley.

"Think of all the things they have ever done to you."

Voldemort killing his parents. Killing Cedric.

Malfoy tormenting his friends.

Pettigrew's betrayal and framing Sirius.

Being locked in a cupboard for ten years.

Being tormented as a child.

"Now envision yourself getting revenge. Showing them that you have the power now, that you control their life."

Harry unconsciously raised his wand, his fingers clenched around it.

Bellatrix leaned in next to his ear and whispered. "Avada Kedavra."

The green light seeped through his eyelids. The mouse was dead.

Harry fell to the floor, shaking.

"That wasn't so hard, now was it?"


"I heard about your remarkable progress today," was the first thing Voldemort said as Harry entered the meeting room. "This pleases me, my child."

Harry couldn't even be bothered to come up with a scathing reply to this.

"Don't worry," the Dark Lord said in what Harry assumed was supposed to be a reassuring tone. "It gets easier."

"I think I need some fresh air," Harry interjected abruptly. "May I be excused?"

"Of course. But come back soon. I have some things I wish to discuss with you."

Harry barely looked back as he strode down the hall. He felt disgusted with himself. He had killed another living thing.

'But wait,' said that nasty voice in the back of his head. 'You've killed before. Remember Quirrell?'

'That was different,' Harry argued. 'It was an accident.'

'Whatever makes you sleep more soundly at night.'

Mindlessly, Harry wandered through the pathways of the garden surrounding his new 'home'. Until a hand clapped him on the shoulder, that is.

Harry jumped, but then relaxed. It was the Death Eater who had brought him John's message last time.

"Are you alright?" he asked. "The Dark Lord asked me to come and find you out here. He needs to see you in his study."

"Oh, thanks." The Death Eater started to walk away. "Wait. Can you deliver a message for me? Like you did before?"

The Death Eater quickly scanned the area. "Alright."

"Could you tell him that I couldn't make it, but to keep going and that I'll try to talk to them soon?"

He nodded curtly and swiftly left. Harry sighed as he once again entered the mansion.


"Come in, Harry," Voldemort answered to the knock on the door.

"How did you know it was me?"

"I didn't ask anyone else to come."

"You never get surprise visits then?"

"Not when I don't want them."

"It's Crucio first, ask questions later with you, isn't it."

"That's sounding a bit more like you, my Harry. That walked must have agreed with you."

"Yeah," Harry said shortly, then asked, "Why did you want to see me again?"

"You did well in your lessons today. I think it's about time for you to use that knowledge first hand."

Harry paled. "You don't mean ...?"

Voldemort leaned forward in his seat in anticipation. "Yes, Harry. Tomorrow you will come with us and finally stand by my side as my heir." He just smiled at Harry's panic-stricken look. "Tomorrow will be a celebration indeed."