Harry Potter and the Star of Senkrad

Author: l'Ciel

Fandom: Harry Potter

Disclaimer: JKR, and some more I think – I don't own anything but the plot – oh, and Ice Drakes, that's mine too! And that sexy nurse (god bless her brainless boobs)

Rating: hard R for implicit sexual content, violence, and to be safe

Warnings: violence, brain washing, non-con,

Pairings: HP/DG, SS/LM; implied pairings: HP/BZ, NM/LM

Genre: Action/Adventure, Romance, Angst

Summary : After the events of OotP, Harry runs away from the Dursleys. The only one to find him is Snape, but where do the spy's loyalties truly lie? Slash & Het, war-story

Main characters: Harry, Snape, Lucius, Voldemort, Dumbledore


03) A Wink Of Fortune

Silence filled the room, when the dark lord rose from his seat. The death eaters moved aside, as he neared them and the boy, who lay in a barely conscious heap on the floor, trembling and bleeding. Only Snape stood still, as he passed and towered over the boy.

"Out!", he hissed and the servants scrambled away, "Snape. Prepare some healing balms, those to ease bruises, and bring some dreamless sleep. I will require your healing skills later, so hurry up and return soon. I will be waiting in my chambers.", he addressed the potions master quickly, before the door closed behind his minions.

Sighing, he knelt next to Harry and felt his pulse. It was somewhat weak, but steady. Mumbling a healing spell under his breath to stop the bleeding, he cautiously observed the boy for even the slightest movement.

So this was the great Harry Potter: an abandoned child, orphan, without a caring soul in his life until he came to Hogwarts. He could clearly see Dumbledore's manipulation on the boy. Forced to live with Muggles, the headmaster had secured that Potter would have no prejudices against them. Unfortunately for the bastard, the Dursleys had turned out to be highly counterproductive to his aim. Harry had learned to hate Muggles from an early age, or at least to distrust them. Something he would have to keep in mind when dealing with the boy. Much suffering in such a young life. Of course he knew who was responsible for this, but Dumbledore had not exactly helped Harry much. Maybe the boy's own guilt could be transformed. The darkness he had felt at once when seeing his enemy could be nourished, aimed, possibly used. Harry was weak, and his weakness could be used.

In the back of his mind, he remembered his own youth. Had he not been used just the same? And had the darkness not given him the refuge he had searched?

Shaking his head, he got up and straightened his robes, before levitating the body to his own quarters. The east wing of the manor was located directly next to the library, the second study and the entrance to the dungeons. A very good position, especially because it was closed off from the common guestrooms on the west side, in which most death eaters housed now and then, and the family part, that was located in the main part of the house. He passed the large library and ascended the wide stairs to the second level. A well lit hallway led to the guest suite, once built for important or long-term visitors that might come to the manor. From what he knew of Narcissa Malfoy's habits, it had probably also been used to entertain lovers when her husband was away on business.

Now he had claimed it for himself.

The doors on the left led to his personal study, sitting room; those on the right side to the bed- and bathroom. The door to the bedroom opened when he approached and he walked through it, still levitating the meanwhile unconscious boy. Disposing the body on the enormous canopy bed, he headed towards the bathroom to fetch some warm water and towels. He did not trust the house-elves and had them confined to the rest of the house. Once a day he allowed one of the little beasts in to clean, but apart from that, they had to keep away. Carrying the bowl over to the bedroom, he sat down on the bedside and wetted one of the towels. He rubbed away some grime and blood from Harry's face. Under the unruly black hair, his skin was beautifully white and soft. The luscious, red lips subconsciously smiled to him, as he wiped over them with the fluffy white towel. So innocent…

When he had finished with the face, he moved on towards the hair. Little clusters of dried blood had formed between the thick locks and it was dull and sticky. Not daring to touch the already overpowered body with more magic than absolutely necessary, he decided to simply leave the rest for later.

Somewhat stunned, he contemplated what for Salazar's sake had conveyed him to suddenly mind his sworn enemy. It would have been much easier to simply kill the boy and get over with it. Although Harry did not really present a danger to him, so did not a freshly hatched phoenix. But once grown up, odds were decidedly different. Could he actually convince Harry to choose the path of darkness?

Surely, the boy had potential to be great, possibly greater than Grindelwald had been, Snape, Potter, Dumbledore, and perhaps even himself. The last thought bothered him a little, but even then, it would be a growth process, controllable, and, if necessary, preventable.

As long as he controlled Harry, he would be indomitable. Dumbledore had no chance, if Harry stood with him. The public would fear him, the Ministry despair over him and the world would be his. His alone. And Harry's.

He did not know where that thought came from. It made no sense, no reason in it. But it appealed to him. A certain feeling overcame him, that Harry would be a fundamental element in his conquest. He simply did not know how. But he was certain, more certain than he had ever been in his life, that Harry was the key. Looking at the pale youth in the huge bed, he wondered if he had finally lost his sanity, or if some higher spirit had directed him to that decision. Possessively, he gripped the fair boy's hand and stroked its palm, waiting for Snape to arrive.


Severus did not know what to think. When had it all begun? The treachery, the masks? Had it started with the death eaters? With Lucius' offer? With coming to Hogwarts? No, then the world had still been in its place, as far as it could have been at least. Had it begun with the initiation or with the knowledge? Had it 'begun' or had it already been there?

He did not know.

Sighing, he collected the last bottle from the shelf above the mirror and packed it away in his pocket. He knew that the time of double games was over: it was time to finally choose a side and tonight he had made a decision. Harry.

From the door, the headmaster observed his doings. Calculating the odds, the settled for the best explanation: a failed mission to find Potter, more Cruciatus, therefore the potions. Dumbledore nodded and he left. Apparating to Malfoy Manor for the second time this day, he entered through the front doors and directly climbed the stairs on his right. Passing through several doors, he reached the gallery over the library and passed the hallway to the assigned chambers. Knocking on the door twice, the dark lord asked him in and he opened the door. On the bed was Potter, asleep. The dirt had vanished from his face, but Severus could see the remainders of the blood clogged in his hair. Obviously the lord wanted him alive for now.

Rushing to his side, he briefly bowed and his master moved aside to let him tend to his patient. Quickly searching for injuries, he found some older welts and bruises, but astoundingly little magical damage. Of course, his nerves were hypersensitive after the repeated Cruciatus, but apart from some twitching muscles and an already healed spleen, that had ripped under the curse, he seemed fine. Draining two vials in his mouth, the youth automatically swallowed. Post-Cruciatus and blood replenishing draught.

Voldemort eyed him sceptically from the side and Snape felt a little uneasy around him. Of course, feeling a little edgy around one's master was a normal thing, but usually Severus trusted him enough to spare him from the worst. He knew he was valuable for his lord.

Satisfied with his work, he bowed to his master: "He will be fine by sunrise. I left the dreamless sleeping potion on the nightstand, if he needs it. Shall I come again tomorrow?"

"Do you think it necessary?", the dark lord inquired.

"No, my lord. His nerves might be a little on edge after the Cruciatus, but apart from that, he is healthy.", Severus answered aptly and was dismissed.


He turned to the warmth, that spread over his cheek. Keeping his eyes shut, he was still in a daze, when he heard a soft whisper of magic tickling through his hair. A hand smoothed his clean strands back and caressed his skin, before retreating. Not wishing for the caress to stop, he moaned lowly and grew more conscious of his surroundings. His eye lids fluttered and he gazed up into dark ruby eyes, blinking at him questioningly.

"Wha?", he grunted confused and wrinkled his nose, before sneezing heartily.

The man above him chuckled and he suddenly remembered.

"YOU!", he shouted and crawled back against the headboard. His muscles cramped and he yelled out, before crumbling back onto the pillows.

"Indeed", the dark lord chuckled lightly and adjusted himself on the bedside, "if you move around too much, you will only hurt yourself. Do not worry, I shan't hurt you. Jet."

Harry stared at him in confusion. He knew he must not trust the wizard, but he could not prevent himself from hoping Voldemort spoke the truth. Startled, he looked up, when the older man raised his chin with one long finger and looked him directly into the eye.

"You are mine now.", the snakelike man said and rose his wand…


The screams this night where exceptionally loud. It had begun just after the new guy arrived. What had started with little whimpers and pleas soon had developed into panic filled screams and begs for mercy. It had to be a young one, maybe one of the recruits.

It had been hours and he still screamed. No, no, no again, no, please no!

The voice seemed familiar to him, but he could not really place it until it suddenly clicked:

"No… NOOOOO!", he screamed, along with the tortured prisoner, "Nooo, not him, not Draco, not my son…", Lucius broke to the floor, sobbing and praying it would just stop, 'Take me instead', he begged in his thoughts, 'Just leave my baby alone! Draco, oh Draco, what have you done!'.


R&R!