Author Note: For those who don't know it, I have a Yahoo Group now. groups!yahoo!com/group/Mehetabelos/ (Change the !'s to .'s). It's also on my homepage on my author profile. It is also an adult group unfortunately, because I wasn't thinking when I set it up, there doesn't seem to be anyway to take it off an adult profile though. Anyway, I can post fast if I choose to, I'm working on the chapter a lot lately, however I'm not getting the sort of reviews I want, which means I'm probably not getting spread to the amount of people I thought I would be. It's alright, it's not really anyone's fault, I'll just keep the posts a little slower to try and catch more attention. If you want to talk about my stories get on my group, I discuss them there. I also will discuss further ideas there if someone has a challenge they want to give me, or point out. If you can't manage to get into the group you can always join PottersPlace2 (groups!yahoo!com/group/PottersPlace2/) Yahoo group and post something there, I'm around there as well. Rambling, I know, I just had to get some stuff out. Now, get your ass to reading and thinking about how to best review.

Chapter 11
• Leviathans •

Blaise kept them there the whole night. Harry, still exhausted for some reason, didn't have any problem going back to bed. Christine, though she'd slept most of the day, dutifully stayed by him, and awake a good part of the night.

Harry knew she was awake, because he didn't exactly sleep, it was more like a waking sleep, he could feel her next to him, hear her breathing. He could also hear the other girls; the ones who'd gotten drunk earlier, getting a bit more frisky with their attentions. It wasn't long before he fell asleep, to thoughts of women crawling into his bed.

Sleep wasn't his destination. He opened his eyes to find himself in another room, in a dark place that he'd never been in before. It was familiar though, as if he'd seen it in another dream, a dream that he couldn't remember. There was a woman lying next to him, stiff, but warm, and she didn't seem to be happy about something that had happened, or that was happening.

Harry stared at the arch in her back, the pale white color of her skin that glowed with the flickering torchlight. Slowly, he reached forward, touching the skin softly, running his finger along her back. He couldn't see her face, but he could see her black hair was long and straight, that it fell across her back like silk, and made her shiver with delight when he touched it. "M'lord?" she asked softly as he continued tracing her body with his finger until he come to the place where it disappeared beneath the sheets.

"He is here," Harry said quietly. "Listening, feeling, touching. He enjoys it even more than I do." Harry continued. He wondered who 'he' was, and the answer came to him almost as quickly as he'd asked. Voldemort knew he was here, he was doing these things to entertain Harry, to give him something, When Harry tried to discover what it was, he felt himself imprisoned, and he couldn't get the answer.

The woman turned to him, her face still cloaked under the silky black hair. Her lips were showing underneath though, the hair parted around pieces of them, revealing their lush plumpness, the lips he'd seen in the dream. But why was he dreaming of those lips, and why didn't he remember them.

You'll come to remember, Voldemort whispered in his mind, you'll remember the things you and I have done. You'll see how great we could be together.

Harry shook his head, but had a hard time looking away from the girl. She rose off the bed, facing him, baring everything. Her taught skin was flawless, and ivory white. She looked almost like a trophy instead of a woman, a beautiful carving created to imitate some goddess of some ancient civilization. Her lips flashed red and she reached forward, drawing Harry to her and kissing him strongly. For a moment their tongues intermingled and then she drew away, staring at him. He stared back, shocked, surprised, and aghast at the woman he saw there. Bellatrix Lestrange. A younger woman, more vivacious, more beautiful, untouched by the rigors of Azkaban, but still Bellatrix.

"Stay with me tonight," she said in a whisper. "Take me as you did three nights ago. Mark me, show me your strength."

Harry fought it, fought the feeling he had when she told him that. He knew they weren't his feelings, that they were Voldemort's, but they made him feel strong, powerful, and he knew he liked it, even if it was for just a little while. Still he fought, tried to keep down the urges that rose up. His hand shot forward, striking her perfect white skin, leaving blood on the corner of her lips and the imprint of the back of his hand across her face. He shook his head again, he couldn't beat her, he wanted to hurt her, but he wanted to make her go away so that he didn't feel such a strong attraction. He hated to look at her, but he loved the feelings that doing it caused.

His eyes slid to her again and he could see her licking the blood from her lips, smiling. It was so infuriating that he'd hit her and she'd liked it. He did it again and again. She moaned with ecstasy and he screamed with anger.

When he stopped, he stared at her, laying in front of him, languishing in pleasure, her body covered in her own blood. He covered his eyes and looked away, but something told him to open them again, open them and stare at her. He fought, once again in vain, because only moments later he was staring down at her, wondering what her blood tasted like, wondering if she'd like him to take her while she laid there, bloody.

"Thank you," she said heavily, between long sighs.

Harry almost puked, but he finally pulled himself away and fled from the room.

"You enjoyed that," his voice said. Not his voice, Voldemort's voice, he wasn't Voldemort.

"You made me like it!" Harry said, staring at Voldemort in a mirror, one of the many that seemed to line the halls. "You made me continue, you made me want it."

"No Harry," Voldemort said with a growing grin. "I only made you stay. What you did was your choice, I had nothing to do with it."

"You!" Harry said, wide-eyed, suddenly realizing where Christine had come from, why Veranda had thought he was Voldemort. Their connection had grown stronger, and somehow Veranda could feel Voldemort through him.

"I sent the slave, yes. You have enjoyed her company, have you not?" he paused for a second. "You have not taken her, how odd. You enjoyed her before, while she was here. But... I see, you have taken one of my own. How thrilling, I cannot begin to understand your mind Harry Potter, but I can see that you have much potential. Reward my servant as you will for her loyal services to me. She was always... eager to be of service. I will reward her when she next sees me."

Harry shook his head, he wouldn't reward her, it would make her a whore in a way, as if he'd paid for her to come to him and sleep in his bed. But she is a slut, a whore, nothing more than a servant, a voice in his head said. Harry shook it again, trying to keep the voice out, trying to keep the emotions from flooding over him. He couldn't let this happen, he wouldn't let it happen.

Shuddering, Harry's eyes flew open and he found himself in a strange bed, with someone warm curled up against him. He panicked for a moment, and moved to throw the warmth away when he remembered who it was, and where he was. Blaise's bed, in the Slytherin girls dorms. He could sense Blaise near, and was comforted when Christine sighed happily into his ear. She'd been feeling some of his emotions, some of his hate for himself, and now everything was better.

It was just a dream, he told himself, but he knew it wasn't, knew it was too real, even more real than the dreams he'd had fifth year. He could still feel the blood, almost as if it were dripping off his fingers, warm thick blood. The thought made him cold inside; it filled his body like a shiver that he couldn't shake. The room didn't feel so warm anymore, and neither did Christine. He pulled away from her slowly, then pulled himself off the bed and stood. No one was awake. That much he could see. The drunken Slytherin girls had passed out in the same bed. But he wasn't really interested in them.

Stepping away from the bed, he walked along the dorm, opened the door and stepped out, only to find Veranda was still there, looking dead tired. When she saw him her eyes and mouth opened at the same time, but Harry shook his head. "Go to bed," he told her, seeing the state she was in. He couldn't make someone suffer, not after what he'd just done, even if she was a Death Eater.

She opened her mouth to object and Harry's temper flared. It was as if something clicked inside her. She dropped her head, turned and made her way into the dorm room. He hadn't said another word, but she'd listened.

The hallway along the girls dorms was empty and quiet. The damp chill of it didn't disturb Harry; he was already too cold to be bothered with it. His robe was light, and he couldn't recall how to transfigure it to be heavier, so he ignored it, hoping that the cool the air might do him some good.

At the entrance to the common room Harry stopped and wondered what he was doing. He'd only been in it once before today, and that was in second year when he'd taken Polyjuice potion to look like Crabbe or Goyle, he couldn't recall at the moment, but the important thing was that if anyone saw him there might be a fight. It didn't bother him at all, that he might be fighting, and as he closed his eyes and stepped through the door and hoped there might be one, and that whoever fought him was better, so that maybe they could beat him into submission, make him pay for the beating he'd just given Bellatrix.

Someone was there, there were two people there, sleeping on the couch. Harry closed his eyes, counted to five, and opened them again before stepping forward. From his position he couldn't see who they were, but he was hoping for a fight, and they were making things easy.

Touching the back of the head, Harry got a surprise, finding it a pile of soft hair. He pulled back, but not quick enough to awake the person, who swiveled to see him, eyes wide with fear. He knew her, though he wasn't sure how he knew her. Her image had been burnt into his mind at some point, something she'd done or said to him, but he couldn't remember who she was, or why she would be in his memory.

She screeched and tumbled backwards, afraid for her life, Harry could see it in her eyes. He suddenly didn't want a commotion, didn't want to fight anyone, and she was going to bring them all. He dove after her, trying to clamp his hand over her mouth, but she only struggled harder against him.

When he finally was on top of her and her pinned he could hear her mumbling something over and over again. He leaned closer, trying to hear what it was, and her mumbling sped up, as if she were afraid of what he was going to do.

"Please don't, please don't, please don't," was all she was saying, over and over again.

His eyes widened and he pulled away. "I'm not going to hurt you," he assured her. "I just don't want a scene." The girl stared at him, her eyes still wide with fear, and she was so afraid that she was trembling. "Please don't be afraid," he begged. "I really don't want to hurt you," he said, trying to remain as kind as possible. He didn't trust her yet, and he didn't want her to scream, but he wasn't going to brandish his wand, that would only make things worse.

"What's your name?" he asked quietly, standing up enough to release her from under him.

"B...Br... Brandi," she said finally.

"Well Brandi, I'm sorry I startled you, I didn't mean to."

"You... you're not... going to kiss me, are you?" she asked, terrified.

Harry withdrew so fast he tripped over himself. "You were the one, the one I hurt with some sort of kiss?" he asked once he'd sat up again. Brandi hadn't moved, she was frozen in place, but she wasn't quite as afraid anymore. He could see her visibly relaxing. She nodded after a moment, but she didn't seem to want to, as if she had something more to say to his words.

"I'm sorry," he said immediately. "But I don't even remember it happening. I think maybe it wasn't really me, I did a lot of things that I don't remember."

"It didn't hurt," she said quietly. "Not at first."

Harry wasn't sure how to respond to her. He watched her as he got to his feet, and slowly moved closer to her, sitting down on one of the sofas. "What was it like?" he asked, curious to know.

"It was like... warm butterbeer when you haven't eaten anything in days. It filled my whole body, and made me weak. It was blissful, like the rest of the world was perfect, like you'd make everything right. It felt so good that I never wanted it to end. But the feeling did end, when you pulled away, it ended and it didn't feel good anymore, it hurt. It felt like someone was poking me with knives everywhere, like I'd broken all my bones at once. Then, when you let go of me it hurt even more, it was like part of me was in you and I couldn't get it back."

Brandi stopped speaking, and stared at him from the floor. "I wanted it back so bad. I wanted to feel that warm feeling again, because it made everything go away. I wanted you to kiss me again, but I couldn't talk."

"But it hurt you," Harry said, afraid she might ask him to do it.

"And it felt good, so very, very good. I wanted the world to be right again, wanted you to make everything ok."

Harry shook his head. "I can't do it, I don't remember how, and I don't want you to be hurt."

"No," Brandi said quietly. "I don't want you to do it again, not now. I'm afraid if you did I wouldn't be myself again, that I wouldn't be able to stop." Sighing, Harry nodded. He was glad that she didn't want it.

"You thought I was going to do it again, didn't you? When I touched you, you thought I was going to kiss you again."

The Slytherin girl nodded. "I want to be my own person, I want to be Brandi, the pureblood Slytherin girl that gets anything she wants. That's why I was sleeping out here, it was rumored that you were in the girls dorms, that you were playing with Veranda. When I saw her standing outside the 7th year dorms... I thought maybe it was true."

"It was, sort of. After the fight in the great hall I wasn't going to go back to the common room and face them right away. Someone brought me here to stay for a while, they felt I would be safer here than anywhere else," Harry said, trying to keep who it was from being revealed, but he knew if there was already rumors of him being there, then it was likely those rumors included Blaise's name.

"So Harry Potter comes to hide in the Slytherin dungeons? You get points for creativity, but not for self-preservation. There are more than a few people here who would hurt you without thinking. I was, until recently, one of those people," Brandi said.

"So you can't hurt me, because I hurt you?" Harry asked, confused.

"No," Brandi said, smiling for the first time. "You made me see something inside myself that I've never seen before. I couldn't harm you after you'd done that to me, especially since you're not even trying to harm me. You look so innocent, like you did before that day you kissed me, like the Harry Potter I knew, the one I thought I was teasing that day."

"Teasing?" Harry asked, even more confused.

Brandi nodded. "You were running around the school half-naked. I made a comment about it and it got you angry. That's when you kissed me and everything changed."

"Did I do anything else?" Harry asked, trying to find out what it was he'd done. "Before or after I kissed you, did I do anything to anyone else?"

There was a long side-ways glance to a portrait. Harry followed her look and saw it contained a picture of a herd of horses, and one boy wearing black robes. He couldn't quite make out the house on them, but he had a sudden sinking feeling. "I did that?" he asked.

"Yes, Travis has been stuck in a portrait ever since. He's actually taken to it quite well, doing errands for some of the other Slytherins, picking up all sorts of information. But, I think he's afraid of coming out."

Harry stood and walked over to the portrait. The boy was scruffy looking, a little dirty, but otherwise looked healthy. He slept soundly at the edge of the Pasteur, his chest rising and falling rhythmically. Harry tapped the portrait. "Travis," he said quietly. The figure opened his eyes and shifted his gaze to Harry. He froze, staring at Harry in terror.

"I won't hurt you," Harry assured the figure, but no manner of assurance would do it, and suddenly Travis bolted through another portrait and out of sight.

Harry looked to Brandi, who'd gotten a little closer, but was still keeping her distance. "I don't know how I put him there," he admitted. "I don't remember, or I would try and help him out of it. Can't he speak with Dumbledore, or Snape, couldn't they help him?"

"No one would believe it happened, the headmaster even said it was impossible to have done that. He said you must have created some sort of illusion. Travis wouldn't come out for them either, he hid somewhere until after they were gone." Brandi said. She paused for a minute and bit her lip. "I think, maybe, he doesn't want to be out of the portraits at all, not just that he doesn't want to come out, he just doesn't want to be a person again. He was having some problems up until you did that to him, and now, well, everything's different for him."

"Won't someone miss him?" Harry asked.

"No," Brandi said quietly. "Not really, I was his only real friend, that's why he stepped out because of what you did. He was sort of a tag-along, and never fit in well because he was a half-blood. Now he has some status among the Slytherins, and a lot of them owe him favors. Since he is still a student he can collect on them just like anyone else. Usually he uses them to gain himself favors for other people."

"This has all happened in the last few days?" Harry asked, wide-eyed.

Brandi nodded, smirking. "While he wasn't accepted, there was a reason he was sorted. There was also a reason he and I were friends, I may not want to hurt you now, but I am still a Slytherin, and you're going to owe me for not calling out and brining down others on you."

"What will I owe you?"

"Sometime I'll tell you, for now, worry about getting back into bed, you don't want to be seen by someone else."

"It's 3 a.m. how many people are up at that time of the day?"

Brandi smirked. "You wouldn't believe the sort of things that go on around here in the early mornings. I've seen some of the older Slytherins do some pretty bad things when I was younger. It's one of the things that kept me safe when I was younger, having dirt on some of the more powerful Slytherins."

"Powerful?"

A grin broke out on Brandi's face. "I very much doubt you'd understand it, since Gryffindors are too stupid to have any sort of order within their houses, but let me explain it. There is a leadership that runs within the Slytherin house. They're generally the more prestigious students, but they control the comings and going, almost everything. They're called the Leviathans. It is their job, their purpose, to know and control everything that happens within the Slytherin house. They hold the position for the Basilisk, but there is rarely a single person in a leadership position."

Harry listened intently as Blaise continued. "The Leviathans run everything, when something comes up within the house, they are the ones who you go to, nothing that happens within Slytherin goes any further unless it's been brought before the Leviathans. They make the rules, they enforce them, it is their function. During fifth year, when there was a squad that worked with Umbridge —-"

Harry made a sour face. He hadn't heard that name in well over a year, and it didn't sound appeasing to hear it again.

"—Yes, you didn't like the woman, as I remember, nor did she like you. However, as I was saying, there was a squad working under Umbridge. Before they were given the right to form, after she came asking for some help, the Leviathans discussed it, approved, and allowed for several Slytherins to join."

"That means they know I'm here?" Harry asked, digesting the information. It was quite interesting that there was some sort of leadership roles running within the house. It probably accounted for some problems, but also fixed a lot of them as well. It also helped some of the Slytherins get a feel for what running things would be like - which was what all Slytherins wanted to do, even if not from the pulpit.

Brandi laughed. "Of course they do, your rooming with two of them, one's even playing guard at the door, like some social outcast. Why else do you think everyone would listen to her orders?"

"Because they're afraid of her?"

Brandi just rolled her eyes. "Veranda? She's a pussycat compared to the Leviathans as a whole. Between the four of them they could torture you to the brink of death, and while they're at it, destroy your family - including distant relatives - socially, politically and economically, slipping away with every bit of what they had. You wrong them, you'll pay."

"So no one will harm me?" Harry asked, grasping a bit of what Brandi was implying. "Because Veranda wants to protect me?"

"You've not got the Leviathans' full support yet, but the unofficial word is that no one is to harm you, or Veranda will get vindictive. Besides, two out of four isn't bad."

"Two?" Harry asked, wondering who the second one was. "It's not you, is it?"

Brandi smiled coyly, but shook her head. "I'm not going to tell you, you already know enough about them. If I were you I wouldn't discuss it while around others, even Slytherins, it's not good for your health to be speaking about things that are kept secret."

"Why did you tell me then?" Harry asked.

She shrugged and stood. "Maybe I sort of like you Harry. After all, you broke me with a kiss, and I'm not the sort of person that breaks easily."

With a wink, she disappeared into the girls dorms, while Harry stood there gawking.

• Updated 2005.01.08 •