Possession
Chapter XXIII - The Vision Unfolds
------------------------------------

Voldemort watched as the Muggles tortured each other. Some of them had died, he'd killed them, despite the Shadow's gift and at the moment several were lying almost comatose as others used them but he knew the Shadows Gift was still active meaning that at a simple Enervate would allow them to recover.

The Muggles had not faired well since his mate had been attacked at Hogwarts. Each day he had redoubled their tortures but he was becoming bored. He tortured and tortured but nothing changed with his mate and this torture, while they still screamed and begged was nothing compared with what they had put Harry through. With a savage flick of his wand, he broke all the spells on them, watching impassively as they sank to the floor.

Most had been under Imperio for at least the last five days and he hadn't been allowing them any rest.

"It's not enough," he murmured, narrowing his eyes as he looked at them again. He could still see Harry's memories and the pain and fear that had been evident in those beautiful emerald eyes. "Crucio!" He snarled the curse, not caring that it might kill some, not caring beyond the need to cause them pain.

The Muggles jerked, all of them writhing on the floor as they screamed.

It wasn't enough.

No matter what he tried it wasn't enough. He growled, flicking his wand once again and returning the Muggles to their cells, their screams still echoing around the chamber.

"Harry," Voldemort whispered, picturing the boy in his mind.

Black hair, pale skin, red lips and those eyes... It was his eyes, Voldemort decided, that he liked the best. He could remember them always. Emerald orbs that were so expressive. The Dark Lord could see them even now and he remembered.

The first time he'd seen Harry's eyes they were wide and innocent, the eyes of a babe who comprehended nothing, not his mother's begging and not the brilliant flash of light that had killed her. But while Harry hadn't comprehended his actions then, those eyes had instinctively clung to life, reaching out with wild fledgling magic and rebounding the curse. Those eyes had been innocent but they had known power.

The Dark Lord snorted. Harry's eyes had always known power. He had been born to it. But Harry's eyes had also known fear and desire.

Fear... He could still remember the pinched, stark expression that had graced the boy's features at his rebirth but that expression had been nothing when compared with the fear his childhood had known. Voldemort gripped his throne, forcibly calming himself. He had shown Harry fear but that had been one instant, one instant when he had not fully known the path to take. At his rebirth, the sheer intoxication of knowing he was whole again, that he would never again have to suffer the weakness of depending on his servants had driven thought from him and he had acted on instinct, lashing out at the person who had caused him pain without acknowledging the power that lay within them. It was good that Harry had survived. Nothing really would have been accomplished by killing him then and it would have been such a waste.

And the fear that Harry had known then was nothing to the fear the Muggles had given him, the fear Harry had shown when he had mistaken him for Heprah... But he had soothed that fear, smothering it with desire. Voldemort smiled as he remembered emerald eyes clouded with lust, his treasure thinking about nothing more than pleasure of the next thrust. Those eyes, that begged him for more, that seared his soul with their intensity, he was a slave to those eyes.

But those eyes were now staring uselessly at a ceiling, not seeing, not feeling... He knew, not just because he had visited but because each night he reached out to his mate, touching, feeling, cajoling. Ever since he had slept with Harry, the bond between them extended both ways but not enough for him to have helped Harry during the attack, only enough for him to feel his mate's terror. Each night Harry remained nothing more than a blank unassailable wall to his senses. There was nothing there and Harry had not allowed him to see who had attacked him, not this time.

He would find out though. The little basilisk he had left with Harry had bonded to his mate and as soon as Harry awoke the serpent would know and then he would know. "You cannot hide them from me Harry. I will take vengeance for you," Voldemort murmured as he looked around the darkened room.

Oh yes... As with the Muggles, he fully intended to present his mate with their heads, nicely wrapped and bearing expressions of terror. It was all he could do now, but in future... No one would touch his mate. No one would even look at the boy unless they had his permission. And he was sure, in time, Harry would be more than capable of taking care of himself. But not yet... Harry was not ready yet.

He wanted to visit his mate again. But since he had killed the insipid Minister, the campaign had required his full attention.

His forces were attacking key points around Britain. None of the battles were large but they were disruptive and they were designed to test the Ministry's strength. So far both his Death Eaters and the Aurors hadn't lost anyone but they were both probing for weaknesses and that required his attention. Each battle, each squirmish he examined, searching through the Ministry response for their weaknesses, for the things they didn't want him to see. And each battle brought him one step closer to domination.

Soon... It would be soon... Soon the all out battle would begin and then everyone would commit their forces. And until such time, he could not go to Harry. Even the small amount of time such a trip would take, at the moment could not be spared. It was frustrating...

"Eternity is the reward," he reminded himself but the words sounded hollow.

What good was eternity without his mate?

That's when he felt it. It was a tickle beneath his senses, so light he'd dismissed it at first but it had become more insistent, calling out to him and seeking to join with him. Red eyes looked around the room, trying to determine the source of the feeling before it struck the Dark Lord.

He wasn't feeling this... Harry was.

The strange sensation that wanted to join with him was an overflow from something Harry was experiencing.

He closed his eyes, reaching out to touch Harry before he once again hit the wall that was his beloved. But unlike other times he was not alone. Without thinking he snarled, gathering himself and directing his full power against the other.

Voldemort flicked his head back as he felt them flinch against him but an instant later, the presence was back against Harry, seeking entry through the protective wall of shadow the boy was hiding behind. Voldemort hissed at the audacity... If he couldn't break that wall then no one was going to approach his destined mate. And no one was going to stand between him and his mate. No one.

He gathered himself again. This time whoever it was would know the wrath of a Dark Lord. They would know the power that he had been itching unleash. Voldemort's eyes glowed and he brought his hands together, allowing the energy to visibly gather there before he flung it out, driving it deeply into the presence that was daring to attack his mate.

The other being flinched again and the Dark Lord smiled as he felt them weaken, their presence drifting away from Harry. He felt, rather than heard, their mental cry to his beloved but he continued ripping into them.

:Master...:

The Dark Lord blinked. Tied as he was to Harry he recognized the voice immediately as the young basilisk he had left guarding his mate.

:Enough.: The little serpents voice was sure and with its word it conveyed an image to its Master. A young girl lay next to Harry, and they were both naked. Her red hair was unbound and spilled over her shoulders. She was holding Harry's hand and a book was discarded next to her.

"...my soul is yours..."

He heard this whispered words and understood. "Hahahah!" The Dark Lord could not contain his mirth as he drew back after making several more surgical strikes at the presence he now knew was the girl. The strikes ensured her spell would be successful but only one way. With a regal air, he bowed his head towards the mental presence that was the little basilisk. :Thank you: he congratulated it.

:She is foolish but she meant no harm.:

:And now she is bound to him and through him to me. You have done well.:

:I only allowed it because I knew you could control that charm, Master.:

The Dark Lord nodded again, relishing the new feeling he was receiving from his beloved and planning for the future. The girl, who ever she was, had voluntarily bound herself to his mate and now had no choice but to obey Harry. She would be invaluable. He lacked spies in Hogwarts. Oh, there was Snape and there were the seemingly innumerable children of his Death Eaters but there was no one he truly trusted. Severus was good but there were one or two unanswered questions hanging over his head and Voldemort was no fool. He knew what that meant and any report from a Death Eater's child came either filtered from their parents or tempered by their fear of him. But this child... This girl... She could be moulded to his desires and her vow was more binding than his Mark.

He smiled, coming back to himself as he opened his eyes and surveyed the room. This was an interesting development and one he could use immediately.

"Harry... I cannot come to you... Not yet but she shall show me the way."

He sat back in his throne, looking into the darkness as he considered the future. Despite the brewing Rebellion, things were proceeding as he had foreseen. A sharp canine caught his lip as he remembered.

Everything was as he had foreseen.

----------------------------------------