Harry Potter and the Lord of Shadow

Chapter Two: Sadistic and Uncaring

Harry Potter shot bolt upright in bed, covered in cold sweat, panting heavily, his mind swirling with images of a vicious nightmare. He sat there, in stunned silence, for a moment, trying to collect himself, trying to remember his dream.

He, Ron, and Hermione had been running though…darkness, infinite darkness. Voices had been screaming at them from all sides. They couldn't see, couldn't breathe. All they could feel was an intense, cold evil that seemed to come from beyond the darkness. Harry could sense the presences of two people up ahead, whatever that had been. One was definitely Voldemort; the other…seemed far more powerful. What terrified Harry beyond the thought that there could be a dark wizard stronger than Voldemort was what he heard them say to each other,
"Potter being alive shall factor well into the next phases of the plan. It all depends on him."

"I will do as you have commanded, my Master."

The latter speaker was Voldemort, but the one he called "Master" had a voice…that couldn't belong to anything Harry could imagine. And Voldemort, calling something Master? How…it didn't seem possible!

Letting his mind drift from the nightmare, Harry observed his room. He was back at the Dursley's house, as he had promised Dumbledore, in his small room with all his belongings. It was pitch black, save the slivers of moonlight that managed to sneak through the thick clouds that the recent thunderstorm had brought, and Harry thought for a moment about how quickly the storm had seemed to come in that evening.

His eyes trailing to his floor, he noticed that he had pitched a large textbook onto the wooden floor. It lay, pages wrinkled and torn. Picking it up, he flattened out the pages, and closed it. The title Artifacts of the Dark Arts: A Complete Compilation reflected off the moonlight. Harry had managed to get Professor Slughorn to sneak him a copy of this rare book, so that he could research Horcruxes, and ways to destroy them. As he put it back on his bookshelf, he straightened out his quill bookmark, brushing off dust and dirt. Hedwig chirped at him from her cage, gazing at him with concern.

"I'm alright, Hedwig. Just another one of these damned nightmares."

The snowy owl just turned her head to the side, and twittered.

Harry laughed, "Thanks, girl."

As Harry lay back down, and covered himself with his sheets, his thoughts went back to Professor Dumbledore. He remembered, with great sadness, how he had seen Professor Snape just step through the gathering of Draco Malfoy and the Death Eaters, and kill the aged Hogwarts Headmaster without hesitation or care. The fear in Dumbledore's voice still haunted Harry, who relived that dreadful night every time he went to bed. Malfoy's ranting, Dumbledore dying at Snape's hand, Snape running away, effortlessly deflecting Harry's spells, and striking him down without even trying. Despite what Snape had snarled in rage at him, Harry still thought Snape was a coward, running away without even giving Harry the honour, the satisfaction, of fighting him, to avenge Dumbledore.

"Bastard…" Harry hissed through his teeth, "…coward."

Voldemort's Horcruxes had to be destroyed before he could be killed. However, Snape was simply a mortal man, and Harry suddenly realized that he could do far, far worse to Snape than what he could do to Dumbledore. And for a moment, that thought seemed…good. It seemed only right. And Harry enjoyed that thought, causing immense pain to Snape before he finally died, making him suffer in any way humanly possible before killing him outright the most horrible fashion possible. It felt GOOD to think, and to feel that way. To make Snape feel pain would be right!

In a jolt, it was like Harry was suddenly suffocating, as he inhaled sharply, and coughed loudly, almost gagging. He fell off his bed, and onto the floor, where he lay, coughing, and shuddering, struggling to get up. Trying to figure out how that had happened he came to realize just what he had been thinking, taking absolute pleasure from the suffering of another person. How could I have been thinking that, he wondered, shakily getting to his feet.

Harry Potter, a sadist? Taking pleasure from torturing and eliciting pain from another human being? Preposterous. But, Snape? How could one who killed such a beloved man whom he had deceived for so long, be human? Such a coward, such a liar, human? Ridiculous…laughable, in fact. Harry heard himself laugh…evilly. No, there was no way Snape could be human. Therefore, it couldn't be wrong to cause him to suffer before he killed him. Snape had to suffer, he deserved it. Harry's lips curled back in a wicked smile that would have made Voldemort himself probably shrink back in terror. How could it be wrong to make him suffer, wondered Harry, After all he has done, what harm could some pain do? Would it really be all that bad? Who would even care about Snape, it's not like he has any human friends! Yes, ALL of the Death Eaters should suffer…VERY. VERY PAINFULLY! YES! ALL OF THEM! ALL…OF…THEM, MUST…DIE!

A low, menacing rumble started in Harry's chest, and worked its way up though his throat, before bursting out through his lips in a mighty, bellowing laugh. He reared back and let loose, letting himself laugh, not out of simply joy, but out of pure, malicious, sadistic, and uncaring pleasure.

"POTTER! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?" roared the enraged voice of Vernon Dursley.

Harry's laugh quieted a little, down to a lesser volume. The young wizard just stood there, reveling in his pleasure.

Harry Potter: Sadist? Suddenly, it didn't seem so impossible.

Voldemort stood next to his Master, who held its wand to its forehead, and seemed to be meditating intensively. A small portal showed Harry Potter, standing in his bedroom, laughing in pure sadistic pleasure.

And Voldemort smiled.

He sensed he could speak, "An interesting idea, my Master. Making Harry Potter want to cause pain, making the hero of the all the 'good' wizards suddenly into a monster. Most wonderful, Master."

The portal faded from view, and was replaced with shadow. 'Master' withdrew its wand from its forehead, and put it back beneath luminous, black robes.

"I apologize, Master. Have I said something wrong?"

"On the contrary, Lord Voldemort, you have not offended me. You have only discovered a recent addition to my plan."

"And what is that, Master?"

"I do not intend Mr. Potter to feel this way immediately. Right now, he is horrified that he could think such things. I will continually, from time to time, infiltrate his mind without him knowing, and place these thoughts in his mind. He should gradually come to accept these thoughts as natural, and he will thirst to act on them. To those around him, it will simply seem like he is going insane."

"I see. But what if he realizes what you plan to do?"
"I highly doubt he will. He doesn't even know I exist. He'll probably just think it's you doing all this. Stupid, naïve boy…"

"I totally concur, my Master. Completely."

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Please note that this is a rough of the second chapter. I fully plan to revise and repost it at a later time.