Hello everyone.
I originally planned to stay on Ao3 but I changed my mind so, here I am.
This Two-Shot is going to be dark. If violence, gore and rape are not your cup of tea I advise you to stop right here.
Constructive criticisms are welcome, don't hesitate to let me know what you think!
.
He is hot. Everything is blurry.
He can see distorted shapes moving here and there in the room but is unable to figure out what they are. His breathing is like a muffled melody, peaceful and sinister at the same time. His limbs are abnormally heavy, he can't even move a finger from where he is laying. Like he is not residing inside his own body, but rather an outsider watching from a stranger's eye.
A mysterious shadow slithers in and out his field of vision. He hears his breath grow faster, harder. Someone is here. Who, he doesn't know. But the strange pressure in the air along with the vibrating atmosphere alert him of the danger he is in. Magic. Everywhere. Strong, powerful. Darker than black. He is drowning in it and finds himself unable to escape this unwholesome seduction as death never comes, even though he feels like suffocating.
'Harry…'
A voice, a murmur. Something familiar and yet, he's never heard it before. This place too. It's like he has always been in this room although he has never set a foot in there until now, on these luxurious cushions, clothed in sulk gown and covered in glittering jewels. Is he drugged? Kidnapped? Is it a dream or… No, it feels too real to be a simple trick of his imagination. His mind running wild while remaining motionless against his will, he tries to make out his surroundings and catches the shape of a man coming to the dim light that colours the nearby walls with pale red and purple.
'Harry.'
More warmth covers his face, fingers ghosting over the tanned skin of his cheek from behind. A breath comes tickling his earlobe in a hot brush.
'You're mine.'
The magic around him explodes like an invisible firework. He gasps, and air as hot as the lecherous flames in a fireplace rushes in his windpipe like a violent blast. He screams. Or tries to, because no oxygen fills his lungs anymore, and his mouth is opened in a silent howl of pain and horror. It's hot. It's too hot. He's burning from inside, from outside. From everywhere. This wizard's magic is running through every veins existing in his body, and all he can do is staring wide in gleaming, crimson eyes piercing him as though his flesh was absolutely nothing.
This time, the scream coming out of his throat rips the air in a deafening sound.
His eyes opened in panic. Harry straightened up on his bed, panting and sweating like he just ran dozen of miles in his sleep. He shot a hand up his raven hair even more dishevelled than usual. His mind still blurry, he barely paid attention to the door crashing against the wall as a red-haired woman barged in, wand in hand.
"Harry?" She saw him on the bed, unfocused and apparently unharmed as well, obvious signs that her son had just woken up. After briefly checking that no stranger was lurking in the room and that her boy was safe, she took in Harry, whose breath became slower and slower as the glassy green eyes grew more and more focused.
The realization came instantly in her mind.
She was on the boy's side in an instant. "Oh baby, it's okay. Breathe in. Good, now out." The woman wrapped her arms around him in a firm embrace. "Everything is fine. You're here with me. It's alright. It's alright."
"Mum..."
"Harry, are you okay?"
Listening to his mother's voice triggered something inside his agitated mind. He knew he was awake, he knew the feeling of lethargy and asphyxia had not been real. But hearing her had the effect of a warm shower soothing away all his fears in the blink of an eye.
"I'm fine. It was just..." A dream? A nightmare? No, the images was too vivid to just be a reflection of his bleak imagination. Lily noticed the pause. "Another one? A vision, I mean."
"I don't know," Harry said, and he wasn't lying.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
The sincere worry on her face brought a smile on his lips. She and James were used to their son screaming while sleeping, or him suddenly collapsing on the ground when the ability Harry was cursed with since his birth took over his entire body. He shook his head. "It was nothing, I think. I remember darkness, an oppressing dark magic, but… everything was blurry and… ugh. Maybe it's nothing. I'm not sure if it was a vision or not."
"Okay," she nodded and didn't pursue the conversation further. Her hand ran through his wavy hair in a soothing gesture.
It was a blessing for Harry to have a family that could understand his need for privacy when it came to the Sight. They knew how the visions could be mentally harmful and tiring, especially when it showed scenes related to Death, or something relatively horrible bound to happen in the future. Harry lived those Sights more than he saw them. And he could tell they were becoming more violent as the days passed. They were told the rebels started to strike fiercer against their Lord's authority, their personal vendetta turning into terroristic actions in their haste for revenge, causing even more ruins and pile of deaths in their paths.
This vision though… It had been awfully personal.
Her smile returned. "Allen and your father are downstairs. Do you still want to accompany your brother with us today?"
"I promised I would be here this time."
"He will understand if you-"
"Mum, I'm fine really. Besides, I want to be here to see the rascal depart for his fourth year to Hogwarts. It is a special occasion after all."
She sighed, "If you say so. You better hurry or there won't be any toasts left."
A chuckle escaped her when she heard the eighteen year old boy grumble under his breath. After sending the grown boy another worry look, Lily kissed him on the forehead before leaving the room. Harry watched her walk away. Still haunted by the last vision, he left the bed and walked to the bathroom to wash his face and forget what he saw. It was not like the previous visions he used to had. The dreams usually came in scenes where he stood in the background as an invisible spectator watching the future that had yet to happen. But this one… this one had taken a very personal aspect; he didn't saw himself or another stranger in this room, he lived the moment wholly as though it was real. As though he really was in the room.
With a sigh, Harry finished washing up and put on the clothes from the previous day, unbothered by the familiar body odour that had yet to smell, and rushed downstairs in the kitchen where his little brother was about to claim the last toast.
King Cross station was largely crowded, as it always was on the first of September each year. Parents and children were present, even the younger ones that was not of legal age to attend Hogwarts yet. Allen had been ecstatic all morning forth for this moment, even though he experienced it three times already. He met some of his parents acquaintances and politely smiled at the many obvious stares that lingered onto his presence like vicious raptors. Sadly, there was a reason to all these malicious eyes he was getting.
He was the infamous first born Potter squib, after all.
The poor, poor boy whose rights to the inheritance had been snatched away from him since any self-respecting noble family would absolutely not have a disgraceful squib to lead their bloodline, of course.
Although that was completely wrong, because Harry was the one who refused the Potter's legacy. He had to work very hard and verbally fight his father for months before he had managed to convince him to bequeath the inheritance to Allen. Harry didn't want to bother with something that he knew would cause myriad of uproars over the wizarding world, and that no one following pureblood traditions and especially Voldemort's view was going to accept.
But most of the stares he got over the years turned into something even more irritating for the eighteen boy. What was previously disdain and exasperation had quickly vanished for what Harry perceived as pity. They were pitying him, Harry James Potter, because even though he got the looks of a handsome man possessing a stunning beauty competing with those of the pompous pureblood wizards, he would never be able to take up the position as the Potter heir.
'Too bad…'
'I would've married him to my beautiful daughter, were he to have a sliver of magic…'
'Did you see those eyes?'
'Merlin, what a waste.'
If only they knew the truth.
Harry sincerely didn't care. Since he got over the fact that he would never ever possess magic, he had decided to simply accept it. It was utterly no use having hopes for something he knew was impossible. Magic was not an option for a Seer. Everyone was aware of this fact. And it was the most absurd thing Harry came across with in his entire existence, to be denied of what could have been his happiness for another gift he never asked for. If he had to choose, Harry'd have gotten rid of this cursed Sight and embraced Magic right away without a second thought.
One person out of ten millions possessed the Sight in the Wizarding world, minor fortune-tellers like the famous Trelawney Family aside. It was a gift everybody wanted their hands on, thus the reason why they were so hard to find, as Seers were more likely to be thoroughly used their whole life for the benefit of others without being given the choice. Their names, their faces, their existence would be known to the public until their death while they would be forced to See and spill out every vision they'd have.
Thus, the self reclusion of Harry who chose to get away from all that had anything to do with the Wizarding world, including his family.
"Harry!"
Allen found his usual group of friends that looked up at his older brother with curiosity and respect. One of those who still got some manners despite their mischievous nature that caused them and Allen several detentions in a single week last year.
"Are you all ready to accomplish mountains of mischiefs this year too?" he asked with a knowing smile that was immediately reciprocated by the two other boys- plus a girl.
"Dad taught me a spell that can grow your hair and nails ten times their size per second!"
"Mine taught me how to enchant a broom to fly backward!" the girl grinned proudly, and Harry couldn't help but raise an amused eyebrow that flew above the hem of his glasses.
"… I must say, I'm puzzled about how Headmaster Snape hadn't expelled the four of you as of yet. I mean, he must know the the kind of sly little pranksters you are. He hates you since day one -especially you, Allen- and you're still breathing and freely wandering around the castle? Did you guys spiked his tea? Did you threatened the old bat? What is your secret?"
Allen had the same smirk than his godfather when Sirius just accomplished one of his nasty pranks he was immensely proud of. "We have dad to thank for this. His map is the craziest thing in the world."
"And I still can't believe he gave it to you last year," Harry sighed. "Don't rely on it too much though. And you better not have mum find out about it Al'."
"Find out about what?"
All of them froze, except Harry, who relished in the horrified expression that voice provoked to the children's face, and whose smirk lightened into a faux smile before he turned to his mother. "Mum! Perfect timing, I was looking for you."
"I was greeting Alice's cousin," Lily vaguely brushed off, "Find out about what?" she insisted.
"Oh, nothing. Allen has found a new nickname for Headmaster Snape. It's a mixture between a stinky toad and a troll's wrinkled balls. Wanna hear it?" He grinned, paying no heed to the look of betrayal his brother gave him, soon followed by an offensive glare. Lily wasn't amused. In fact, her scowl immediately reached Allen as she turned to his second son, obvious anger on her angelic face.
"Allen Edmund Potter, what have I told you about respecting the headmaster? Severus is a close friend of mine, whether your father and Sirius hate him or not, and I will not tolerate this kind of behaviour in my presence!"
"But mum—"
She cut him off with another scold of hers that made Harry want to laugh but he suppressed it instantly. It continued until James joined them after bidding some of his friends goodbye. Upon hearing the cause of his wife's ire, James unsurprisingly took Allen's side by listing all of the reasons why Severus Snape deserved to be crushed by an army of hippogriffs all the while fuelling Lily's anger to the point of almost getting hexed by the red-head woman in public.
The rest of the day passed swiftly. The train came on time and students of all years started to board it after hugging their parents one last time. Allen embraced his brother like he was squeezing the life out of him, making Harry laughed above his head. "Hey, I'm not going to disappear you know."
"I will miss you."
He took comfort in the sincerity of these words.
"I know. I will miss you too."
"Are you going back to the muggle London today?"
"Yes." The grip around his midsection tightened.
"Come visit us at Christmas." Harry chuckled a little, his face and eyes warming at the unexpected but not unfamiliar affection Allen gave him. Ruffling the hair of the smaller boy, Harry hugged him back with as much strength as his sibling. "I will," he promised softly.
Ten minutes later, the train departed and after five more minutes the wizards began to leave the station. The three of them were one of the last families to Apparate. Lily wrapped an arm around her son's shoulder as soon as their feet touched the manor's ground. "Do you have a lot to pack before leaving?"
"Not much. I'll be fine don't worry."
He was ready half an hour later. He knew his mother didn't want him to go. Even James seemed about to protest when he stood in the doorway with his luggage, ready to leave any second, only to have his foot heavily crushed under his wife's heel when his mouth opened. They hugged for a long time, Lily's constant warning to be safe and not to hesitate to come back or call at the first sign of problem perfectly clear in his mind now that he heard it for the hundredth time.
He basked in their unconditional love for a long, long minute. Then he took the small Apparating coin that only a Potter could use and disappear in a pop. The last thing he saw was the loving face of his mother and the proud smile of his father, before the sensation of a black hole engulfed the world along with him away from his family.
Two months later
"I can't believe it. Three essays in less than a month! Do they want our death or what?!"
"This is what you signed for, remember?" Harry retorted amusedly while sipping the milkshake he bought from the fast-food they left one minute ago. Thomas frowned into the sheets he was holding while walking alongside Harry.
"Well, I didn't signed to be on homework overdose. I'm sorry but completing all three essays in such a short period of time is theoretically impossible. I'm out."
"So are your grades if you're just going to hand in blank paper."
"Hey!"
"Don't worry, I'm sure you can pass the economics with a draft if you spend more time on the philosophy subject. Mrs. Kelly isn't that severe when it comes to markings."
Thomas let out a relieved breath. The two had to stop before a pedestrian crossing as cars passed them in high-speed while their lights were still green. It has been a little more than ten weeks since Allen went to his fourth year at Hogwarts, and Harry was more than excited to read what his little brother had to tell in his letter— because Harry knew there would be a letter waiting for him when he would come home later. There always had one at the end of the week.
He could never quieten the interest glooming from the depths of his heart when Allen talked about Hogwarts, about its numerous secrets passages and how the castle was bathing in Magic from the lower dungeons to the top of the highest tower. The image of the Gryffindor dormitory came to his dreams more than once. Harry already imagined himself there, in the four poster bed with his wizard friends inside the bedroom basked in red and gold, the amazing view of the Quidditch pitch visible through the windows. He'd imagined himself in the Great Halls with the magical ceiling showing the weather from outside and the hundred exquisite plates dressed on the row of tables.
The tales of his father when James was still a student here made his heart beat with a furious envy, making Harry cry more than once at the time he was still a little boy. Now, Harry didn't cry anymore. He was only grieving. This world, even though he could see and feel the magic, was not a part of him. And even if Harry was sometimes watching his family with jealousy, he couldn't keep himself from being honestly happy that Allen could experiment an existence surrounded by Magic.
"I'm so jealous," Thomas sighed as they crossed the street. "You don't seem to struggle in any class and you get top marks at almost every exams! What is your secret, Harry? Tell me!"
"I am studiously working on every of my lessons unlike the lazy ass you are, that is my secret."
"You prick!"
He laughed, ducking forward when his friend tried to hit him on the head.
When arrived the moment for them to part, Harry waved Thomas goodbye before he resumed his walk in direction of his flat. Harry was kind of emancipated since his seventeenth birthday. He always had attended muggle schools, not wanting to wander around the magical world to get pitying gazes everywhere he would go. And it was the only way to prevent his Sight not to get known accidentally.
Having his identity as a Seer found out was one of his biggest fears. Even his family would not be able to help him, were he to be assaulted by the entire wizarding world for his gift. Especially if Voldemort himself was assuredly going to take an interest. And catching a Dark Lord's interest was the last thing one would want. Don't get him wrong, Harry did not give a single care about their current Lord presenting as the Minister of Magic. The war ended ages ago when he was freshly pulled out of his mother's womb. He knew James and Lily, and many other magical families had broken up with the Resistance to save their children when they came to realize that the light side was going to lose. True to his words, Voldemort spared those who had decided to submit and had swore to never join Dumbledore again. Harry was fine with that. He was thankful to his parents for giving him the opportunity to live a normal life even though he has been diagnosed as a Squib. He was thankful Allen could laugh and live happily with his friends at Hogwarts without worrying about fighting a Dark lord and whatnots.
Besides, even if there was some flaws in the Voldemort's reign, Harry couldn't deny the system proved itself to be quite efficient. Maybe tough and close to a tyranny once in a while, but the people in England were relatively free and more than relieved with this fact.
You just had to avoid attracting Voldemort's wrath, or his Death Eater's, and you'd be more or less fine.
A flash of light in his viewing range made Harry's steps come to a halt. Another one took him out of his melancholic thoughts, and a third flash of purple had him running in the direction of what he knew was a display of magic. The muggles around didn't show any signs of alarm, just walking on the streets without knowing what was happening before their eyes.
He ran towards the source of the last red flash, stopping in front of a dark alley. The magic in the air smelt vile and heavy, dangerous. Dark magic. It was impossible. What were wizards doing in the muggle world, sending each other hexes that could easily hit innocent people?
Stopping in his tracks, Harry caught a glimpse of the shape of a man running down the alley at the same time Apparating sounds rose from the sky. Lifting his eyes, Harry watched as wizards in dark robes on brooms quickly flew after their prey who vainly tried to chase them away with their wand.
It was not his business, really. Harry went to the muggle world to avoid any confrontations like this. He didn't want to meddle with wizarding bullshit when he could be at peace and ignore all of this.
But still.
It seemed dangerous. Muggles could die without knowing what hit them, and the magical community was going to be in trouble if it were to really happen. Even without magic, surely Harry would be able to do something. Maybe slow the man down? Or help him if he was unjustly treated as a criminal, as were numerous people Death Eaters used to persecute daily.
Making his final decision, Harry started to enter the chase too. Even powerless, Harry knew he was an incredible runner himself and reached the man in no time just before one of the Death Eaters could hit him with a bone-breaking curse. As soon as he grabbed the presumed victim, Harry rolled them both on the ground until their body came crashing over a pile of garbage.
Wooden boxes and polystyrene chunks splattered at the impact. The man grunted under his breath. Their fall did not spare Harry either; he felt pieces of broken wood pierce his skin through the wool coat and he let out a small whimper.
"Fuck. Ugh- Are you alri—"
He had no time to finish. As soon as his hand touched the man's skin, he was swallowed by a dark fog that gripped his soul through his flesh like a layer of acid covering him on every sides of his body. His senses were totally obstructed by the black screen of the hallucination, and yet he knew the air all around him, in this dark illusion he was suddenly plunged in, had a fragrance thoroughly putrid.
Black. Viscous. Vile.
He saw images of unknown little girls no more than nine or ten, in the streets, in Diagon Alley, in a foreign country Harry couldn't recognize. He felt the need, the temptation. The unstoppable want. He had to… He needed to…!— He saw blood. Knife carving into flesh like it was nothing. Screams. Tears. Rough breathing. Rumpled skin against tender skin. Blood again. Sickening sounds of what Harry would've never wanted to visualize.
Nausea coiled around his stomach, turning his insides into boiling flesh before moving up his throat without warning. Harry came out of his trance just in time to throw up on another pile of trashes. He had to get rid of the taste of evilness and depravity flooding his mouth. It was not a vision of the future. What he saw… This man had committed all of that already. He… Oh god. Stumbling on his feet, Harry reached the brick wall to steady himself while he vomited another load of bile. He didn't knew he was crying until he felt warm streaks running down his face.
He heard steps coming right where they were, but the boy was still too shaken to do anything. He wanted to forget. He wanted to disappear.
"My, my, Bennett. Are you desperate to the point of involving a useless mudblood?" a feminine voice rose in the air, followed by a devilish cackling.
"F...fuck you..!"
"You gave us quite the chase, and now we will have to take care of that too," the female said and Harry had no doubt 'this' designated him. And just when he thought that, he felt a hand slide on his scalp with fake kindness, before the fist closed and roughly forced the boy's head up.
Long, black curls brushed against his nose and cheeks while emerald eyes met dark orbs shining with excitement and madness. Harry's breath got stuck when he recognized Voldemort's right hand and most loyal servant, just a few centimetres from his breathing space, holding him in a deadly grip that could surely reap his hair off the scalp in a single move.
"Oh, look at this… My poor baby. I feel almost bad, having to kill such a stunning boy." She sighed tragically. Her wand pressed under his chin without warning. The previous mask of a saddened woman quickly changed into a devious smirk that sent a chill up to Harry's neck. "Don't worry baby, I will avenge you as soon as I get my hands on filthy Benny."
When she was about to pronounce the fatal incantation, Harry managed to retrieve his voice. "W-Wait…! Please— I'm not… a muggle!"
There was silence, until a dreadful laugh tore the air as the witch lost herself in another fit of craziness. He heard several Death Eaters join her, none of them taking him seriously.
"What a little mudblood like you would do among muggles if not a muggle yourself? Our Lord forbade all wizards to come and go here without official authorisation from the Ministry. You, stupid boy. You just have condemned yourself!" she snickered. "Now we have to take you along with filthy Benny here. Our Lord will be so happy. Two criminals in one go!"
"I-I'm a squib," Harry managed to articulate.
That had the effect to shut them up instantly. One of the Death Eaters looked at Harry, taking the time to observe his features with the eye of a scientist, as if trying to solve the puzzle his face seemed to be. "Now that I look at it, his face does ring a bell."
Bellatrix refocused her attention on the boy she was holding. "You. What is your name?"
Harry wanted to let a breath of relief out. That question was going to save his life today. "Harry. Harry Potter."
Numerous gasps travelled among the group of Death Eaters at the name they recognized immediately. The shock on Bellatrix's face was his only delight before the witch threw another load of irritating giggles, grabbing Harry even harder. "The Potter squib!" she shrieked blissfully, "we've caught the Potter squib!"
"Ha? Is it really him?"
He tried to fight against her grip, to no avail. "Yes, it is." He had no time to waste talking with Death Eaters. "I'm sorry for interrupting your duty, I was just afraid for the people there. Now please, can you let go of me? I don't want to keep you from arresting this man," he said, almost spitting the last word.
He was less than a man. He was a monster. Harry really hoped he would be Kissed if he were to have a trial as soon as he'd set foot at the Ministry. Unfortunately for the boy, the witch appeared to have another idea in mind. "Now, now. Not so fast!"
"What?"
"You have broken the law by going beyond the world of wizards," another wizard replied without as much emotions as Bellatrix. "You must be judged."
Harry gaped. "I am a squib!"
There was no way he was being tried because he, a Potter without any magic nor value if one disregarded the fact he was a Seer, decided to live in the muggle world which he thought fitted him more than the wizarding one. Wizards did not care about squibs. Squibs were useless. Worthless. A burden. They were underneath house elves magically speaking, and no one would take a second glance at them because of their incompatibility with Magic.
Why would those Death Eaters bother with him? Because he was a Potter? To mock him? Humiliate him? It was only going to be a waste of time.
"Squibs are wizards, as pathetic as they can be. Therefore you are not above the law, Potter," he finished, smirking at him like he knew what was going through the boy's mind. "Bellatrix, if you must."
"Do not order me Rabs," she spat viciously, and then turned to Harry and brightened up. "Come along, little Potty!"
"Wait— No! I have to—"
Harry did not have the time to express his protests, the feeling of Apparition locked a breath in his lungs. He felt himself being sucked into the atmosphere, leaving nothing behind, but an empty alley without any sign of their presence.
-#-
The crossing through space didn't last long. After what seemed to be a couple of seconds, Harry's feet touched the ground and he tripped under the after-effect of Apparition. Somehow, he found himself holding Bellatrix's arm instead of the opposite, to keep himself from miserably trip up on the floor. He'd rarely Apparated in his life, having no magic and only spending a little time in the magical world since he's eleven. Air filled his lungs again, and Harry exhaled a long breath of relief before remembering what situation he was in.
He did not recognize the surroundings. They were in a kind of lobby similar to the one in Potter manor, except that this one was bigger. Darker. He could feel a tremendous burst of magic coming from nowhere and everywhere at the same time, constantly filling the small room they Apparated in. It was really hard to breathe. Cold sweat descended down his spine at the amount of pressure the atmosphere appeared to be soaked in.
They were only four Death Eaters with him, plus the man called Bennett, tied by a powerful Incarcerous spell. An unknown manor. Dark Magic covering the walls and the air. An aura of power beyond what people could even imagine. There was only one place Harry could think of. A sudden weight settled into his guts as panic kicked in fast. Before Harry voiced the rest of his protests, Bellatrix screeched, "Tiky!"
The popping sound of the house-elf appearing in front of them echoed in the lobby. "Welcome sirs! W-what Tiky can do for Mistress Bellatrix?"
"Notify the Dark Lord of our arrival, and tell him we came with a gift." She eyed Harry with a dangerous glint. "Make that two gifts."
"Tiky be going to warn Master immediately!" With that, the elf vanished in another pop.
Harry did not have the opportunity to ask what he was doing here, instead of the Ministry where Bennett and him should have been to be tried. The witch caught his arm once again and dragged him through the long corridors, in which walls and paints were just as impressive as the few decorations in the vestibule. The heavy pressure didn't diminished as they walked deeper in the manor. On the contrary, the Magic grew fiercer at each steps they took in direction of where the owner of the place probably was.
"Let me go! I have nothing to do here!"
"Hush, pretty boy."
"I want to see my family!" That earned him a snort from another death eater, the one tugging a semi-conscious Bennett.
The last door opened before them like a silent invitation to enter, which Bellatrix accepted forthwith, immediately followed by the other men. They were in what appeared to be a sort of a throne room. It was principally empty except for the marble colons lined up on the sides and the long, dark green carpet tracing a way to the steps leading to a stone throne in the middle. Banners coloured in green and silver, with black snakes embroidered on the canvas were suspended to the walls, intentionally displaying the proud House and lineage of the manor's owner who currently sat on the throne with an enormous, real snake encircling the large chair while its head laid on the man's laps.
Lord Voldemort was just there, a few feet away from him with an expression of boredom that he would never have imagined fitting the picture of the man dominating the entire wizarding community of England. Harry saw him a few times on the Daily Prophet as well as some official books narrating the Dark Lord's exploit preceding his impressive assumption of power less than twenty years ago.
He was exactly like he had appeared on the newspapers since Harry could read. In his thirties, dark brown hair falling in neat waves on the side of his face. Perfectly curved nose, solid jaws holding his pink lips shut, without a doubt locking what surely was a soothing, baritone sound. Crimson eyes pierced whoever met the ruthless orbs, breaking thought the flesh until they reached the bones of those unfortunate souls. He could not see it, but he could feel. The Magic. It came from him, the power engulfing every part of the manor. One of the darkest, powerful show of Magic he had ever seen, ever tasted in his life.
Unable to stand much more pressure in presence of the most powerful Wizard in Europe- if not in the World- Harry's legs gave in. Bellatrix let him fall pathetically on the ground as she bowed gracefully, something the teen had never thought her capable of.
"My Lord," she greeted with utmost respect. The others behind did the same.
Voldemort's red orbs assessed his most loyal servants from where he sat. Hid hand caressed the head of the huge snake who, were it to be a cat, Harry was sure would be purring right now. Instead, soft hisses emanated from the reptile, only sign of the snake's pleasure of being petted.
"Bella," Voldemort drawled lazily, taking in the sight of the two prisoners brought in in front of him. "I see that you have been quite busy today."
"My Lord," she started, still bowing to the leader of England. "Our mission regarding the capture of Murray Bennett has been hugely successful. We found him in the muggle London, roaming among the filth. After a little fight we've managed to restrain him, along with who we thought was another mudblood," she grabbed Harry to pull him toward the Dark Lord, "I don't know what business he had with Bennett, but he certainly had been a surprising help for us in the end."
"Who is that boy?"
Still greatly affected by the magic, Harry tried to speak, only for the witch to silent him with a warning grip on his hair. He could feel the smirk when she replied, "Harry Potter, my Lord. The infamous Potter squib everyone has been talking about for the last few years."
Harry wanted to snort. He didn't know people had been talking about him for years. He was aware there were rumours spreading across the magical world since the discovery of the unfortunate lack of magic, but to go as far as making him a subject worth the conversation of chatty wizards… he could not believe it.
"Rise, Bella." She did so almost instantly. "Avery, bring me Bennett."
The tied up criminal was unceremoniously thrown at Voldemort's feet, who waste no time waking up the man with a quick 'Enervate'. His body was shaken with small spasms for a second. Harry watched as the man slowly noticed his inability to move even a single finger. Bennett's unfocused eyes then met the face impassively staring at him from above and he froze on the ground.
"M-M...My Lord…!"
"Good evening, Bennett. It has been a while since we last met, hasn't it?"
"My… my Lord, I… I did not—"
"Silence."
Then, quietly, very slowly, Voldemort made a motion to stand up. The large snake also lifted its head from his laps, as though conscious of the weight restraining its master's moves. Harry could not look at the Dark Lord, essentially because of the overwhelming fear gripping his soul from inside, and because the amount of pressure around the room made it impossible for him to properly stand up on his feet. But he was able to discern the long and slender body hidden beneath the layer of black clothes. Every motions he executed was smooth, refined, proving a certain agility that was part of his entire being, without a doubt possessing an impressive physical strength despite the appearances.
One step at a time, a long ebony wand in hand, Voldemort approached the quivering man.
"You have failed me more than once, Murray." He drew a circle around him, keeping his pace slow, giving the slightest impression of harmlessness. Which was clearly deceitful.
"I have demoted you from my ranks after your endless failures as a Death Eater, and now, regardless of my forbearance about your little… activities, you chose to ignore my warnings, let your repulsive desires get the best of you and went after preys out of your reach."
He stopped in front of the man. "The Greengrasses want your blood. And who am I to deny them the right to torture the vermin responsible of their youngest child's insanity?"
"No… I didn't want to… I s-swear! I didn't know… I didn't..."
"Crucio."
Screams ripped the air off for a while. The magic surrounding them went suddenly berserk, the most obscure power feasting onto the excruciating pain inflicted by one of its derivative in the form of a simple spell. The air got thicker as the incantation lasted. Maybe it was the consequences of staying too long in an environment devoid of any magic that caused Harry to be so much affected by it now that he was engulfed in witchcraft. Heavy pants escaped his lips while he tries to gloss over the howls, but came unsuccessful.
Something stirred inside, like a familiar sensation drowning him from head to toes. He knew this magic. He felt it before. Tasted it, even. Where? How? It was the first time he was in the presence of the Dark Lord. He had never been near dark families in his life, except at the Yule party hosted by the Malfoys several years back.
A stench of sweat and urine came flooding his system, making Harry retch while he tried to catch his breath. It was like an invisible weight kept crushing onto him mercilessly, like the air became a massive fog invading his mouth, burning his throat as if a fire went through it down his heart. So dark. Darker than Bennett's vileness. Darker than the abyss of the humanity's heinous sins.
Voldemort lowered the wand, ending the curse after an eternity of deafening suffering.
"Do not worry, I don't intend to kill you. The Greengrasses will be thoroughly elated to play with you until you can't think of anything else but excruciating pain days and nights without any rest."
"P-please…!"
"Intra Incendio."
The screams returned as Murray suddenly writhed on the floor, twisting his body to try and get away from the atrocious pain compressing him from all sides. The sounds were soon joined by Bellatrix's cackle piercing through the air in a symphony of delighted madness.
If Harry had not thrown up earlier, he would have now. It was pure torture. He did not want to be here, watching Bennett thrash violently like a fish out of water. Spells after spells, the criminal became a human music-box which only melody was the rasping cries coming out of his throat, broken by the perpetual agony. After a long while, Voldemort finally temporarily released the man from his suffering.
"Get him out of my sight. Put him in a cell and make preparation for his execution. The Greengrass family will have the honour of hosting the show. Rodolphus, go tell them."
"Yes, my Lord."
The two brothers immediately bowed and turned to the exit before passing the door with Bennett whose body left trails of blood and piss behind.
Only Bellatrix remained, and Harry who was still unable to endure the insatiable power filling the air. It was suffocating. He did not want to be here. He did not understand why Bellatrix brought him in this place, if not to be constantly tortured like Bennett just now. The thought of squirming like a madman on the floor by the wand of Voldemort sent violent bursts of shiver coursing through the spin.
He was not prepared for the sudden grip on his chin that forced his head up. Emerald clashed with crimson. A gasp escaped the boy's lips at the unexpected intensity with which those orbs were piercing his skin. The simple touch of the man was almost unbearable for a non-magic being like him. Shaking frantically from head to toes, Harry unconsciously attempted a slight retreat, only to be held in place by the unrelenting hand.
"Harry Potter..."
His name uttered by the smooth voice made something twist internally. He'd heard this voice somewhere. He'd known this magic. Something was wrong. His stomach knotted. Voldemort's gaze took in his form up and down, then stopped at his face, which he kept staring at wordlessly. "The squib."
"The one and only," the witch crooned.
Avoiding the gleaming red gaze proved to be difficult, as was stepping back from his clutch. "P-please, I want to go back to my family—"
"Be quiet."
He moved Harry's face on the sides, observing carefully all of his features carefully like a special specimen. It was so terrifying it made Harry burning with the need to run away from this man. "What was he doing in the muggle streets?"
"I have no clue, my Lord. I thought you would want the honour of asking him yourself."
After an agonising minute of silence, Voldemort replied, "Indeed."
Catching the tendrils of power waving around him like a silent order, the boy complied without resistance. "I-I live with the muggles. I am a squib so I, I don't want to stay in a community that belittles people like me and where I would be totally useless without magic."
"Squibs are wizards too," the Dark Lord simply stated. Harry looked up suddenly, anger rising from inside.
How dared he. Voldemort knew perfectly well the conditions under which every wizards considered as worthless were reduced to. No one cared for them, it was a fact even more accurate since the Dark Lord became the leading figure of the magical community.
"So I heard," Harry bit out, "but when are we treated as such?"
Maybe his spite hadn't been as much reduced as he wanted, for he heard Bellatrix gasp in his back. She must have been about to curse him because he saw Voldemort hold out his hand as though to stop her from doing anything.
"I have tortured for less than that." he chided calmly, making Harry understand that one curse or two could easily fly at any moment.
He was standing on dangerous ground. His head lowered. "I sincerely apologize, my Lord." He forced his voice to remain steady at the end. This man was not his Lord. "I understand that I overstepped my boundaries, it won't ever happen again."
He will just stand low for some months and then return in the muggle world as soon as Voldemort's inquiry considerably dulls. The pressure on his chin grew firmer. Harry looked up once again, trying to diminish the strong rebellion he knew was still etched into his eyes. He froze when he saw the blazing orbs staring right at him, intense. Heavy. Immediately, Harry felt a probing poke inside his mind that quickly escalated into a sudden pressure right into the skull. The mental barriers settled automatically against the intrusion attempt. Then the slight pressure grew into a violent push that met an invisible obstacle neither he and Harry were prepared for.
The impact of the presence strongly resolute to penetrate his mind against the mental walls provoked an unforeseen reaction that completely threw Voldemort out of Harry's head. The rejection he felt from his own mind sent Harry on his knees, experimenting legilimency for the very first time.
"My Lord!" Bellatrix raised her wand towards the squib before reluctantly lowering it when Voldemort once again stopped the female Death Eater.
Only now did he remember the books he'd read about Seers and their natural occlumency, preventing malevolent wizards from penetrating their mind. It was the only consolation one cursed with the Sight could ever get.
"An Occlumens... And so young, at that. How peculiar."
Voldemort circled Harry like the predator he was. "How did you master it? Who taught you? Answer me."
"I- No one taught me, my Lord."
"Lies." The sight of the ebony wand back in the Dark Lord's hand sent Harry a vision of horror. He recoiled backwards, eyes not drifting from the magical weapon he had once dreamed of possessing. He would never get one. Harry will always be deprived of this privilege, and it was fine by him. It was fine.
"I'm a natural. I have it since my birth. I, this is the first time someone tries to pass through my barriers, I swear."
"My Lord, allow me to persuade Squibby Potty to loosen his tongue."
Voldemort had the head tilted to the side, gaze not leaving the captive while reflecting about the amusing offer his most faithful servant seemed more than ready to execute.
"Now, now, Bella. Maybe the boy is right. I suppose things like this happen."
"Yes, it happens," Harry pressed. He did not want to be here anymore. Let them take him on trial or whatever. Anywhere away from the presence of Voldemort would be a more than welcomed solace. "So please, let me go. I won't go in the muggle world again. I will not break the law anymore. You won't see me again, I promise. Just let me go back to my family."
A hand caught him on the chin for the second time. Fearing another attempt of legilimency Harry closed his eyes shut. He could not see it, but he could feel the lingering gaze exploring his face. When the fingers on the jaws began to ruthlessly sink into the skin, Harry understood the silent command and forced his eyes open, directly confronting the gleaming gaze that had yet to release him. Again, the magic surrounding both of them grew fiercer, wriggled like an invisible sparks and Harry felt the familiar dark breeze brushing against the shivering body.
"Harry Potter..."
An image of a locked room and heavy perfume flashed in his mind. A weight settled in his guts. Something was not right...
"For a squib, I have to say you'd make an exquisite addition to my collection."
Harry's breath got stuck in his throat. He lost all composure.
"What do you think, Bella?"
She smirked. "I knew he would be to your liking, my Lord."
"W-wait! I don't—"
Voldemort was known to collect people he considered worth his attention. Many are those on whom he had imprinted his mark, many have sought to be part of it, and only a few have succeeded. Being Lord Voldemort's may be seen as the greatest privilege no one could even dream of, but Harry knew better. The ones "collected" were rarely seen in public. They were rarely seen outside. Always secured in his manor, his palace, locked in golden cage until he got bored and ended up throwing them away.
It was not a privilege. It was a damnation.
As the blazing orbs stayed embedded in fearful emerald's, Harry sensed a shudder creep into his neck. An image appeared in the back of his mind.
A mysterious shadow slithers in and out his field of vision. He hears his breath grow faster, harder.
'Harry.'
No, it couldn't be…
More warmth covers his face, fingers ghosting over the tanned skin of his cheek from behind. A breath comes tickle his earlobe in a hot brush.
He remembered. The dream. The vision. The feeling of being filled from all sides, the feeling of despair, of a voice calling his name again and again, a mantra to keep him from forgetting who he belonged to. Words carving the name of the man who owned him on his chest, his neck, his lips. His mind.
It had been a vision of Voldemort.
Oh God.
No.
'You're mine.'
NO!
"Let me go!" Struggling against the Dark Lord, alone and powerless proved to be totally useless. Losing all composure, Harry fought body and soul to try and get away from the man whose grip remained still and resolute. Finally, he released him and Harry faltered backwards. The momentum of his struggles had him continue his fall on the floor. He winced as he got ready for the impact, only to hit something soft and steady that cushioned his slump.
Something that hissed in his ear and made Harry immediately scrambling on his feet to get away from the large snake he didn't hear approaching. Hands grasped him from behind before Harry could go any further. A soft breath caressed his ear as he felt the man lean over him, fingers ghosting over his neck.
"My, you're a feisty little one, aren't you?"
"Please, let me go. I have nothing to do here, just let me go. I'm just a squib damn it!" Never in his life he'd thought he would use this degrading title to save himself.
"Now, Harry. It would be a waste to let such an interesting specimen like you go." A twist of his hand had two Death Eaters enter the room after less than fifteen seconds. He threw Harry at them, smirk in place. "Lead the boy to one of the guest rooms. I will deal with him later."
"Yes, my Lord."
"NO!"
Two pairs of arms grabbed him from each sides. Harry started to struggle more violently than before as he was being forcefully dragged out of the room. This was a nightmare. There was no way he would let them..! He was just going home after another normal day at university! He didn't intend to get involved in a manhunt in the middle of a muggle street! He just wanted to help someone he thought was having trouble because Death Eaters were known for their ruthlessness and their more-than-usual abuses of power.
"Please no!"
He did not know Bellatrix was part of the unit. He didn't know her eccentricity would cause her to bring him with them. He fucking did not See that coming! Of all things this damn curse had to show him in his dreams, why didn't it give Harry the vision of what was going to occur today? It was so unfair.
They passed the doors with the teen writhing like crazy, yelling and fighting all he could. They were in the middle of the corridor when he managed to land a hit on a Death Eater's shin. He grunted and let go of him almost instantly. Recalling one of the moves James taught him when he was younger, Harry wasted no time tackling the second man on the floor, striking him in the face once, before scurrying down the hallway.
Yells arose in his back but he kept running to the familiar alleys, going for the lobby where Bellatrix Apparated him earlier.
Anti-Apparition wards were up, there was no doubt about it. But there was a chance Voldemort may not have put up the wards in the foyer since the summon of the last two Death Eaters.
Ducking forward when several stunning spells narrowly missed their intended target, Harry threw himself inside the small room. Unable to perceive if the wards were activated there, he could do nothing but try his luck as he clutched the modified Galleon hidden in the jeans pocket.
Even as a squib, he could feel the small pulses of magic coming from the golden coin.
Sprawled on the floor, he gripped the Galleon at the same time he felt the air shift at the doorway. Emerald orbs met gleaming crimson for a second that seemed to last an eternity. It was the last thing he saw before the portkey enveloped him into an invisible whirlwind, taking him away from the most dangerous man in Europe.
He Apparated in Potter manor in a dishevelled state, heart pummelling againsit chest. He had to summon the last of his strength in order to stand up. The toxicity of dark magic on the skin like a poisonous cotton veil had yet to disappear. It was as if he'd never left Voldemort's home. As if the man's magic was imprinted on him, continuously tying them both together. That thought made him internally jolt.
Ignoring the burning of his lungs, Harry yelled the name of their house-elf, who popped up in no time to greet him.
"Welcome home, master Ha— Master Harry?" she shrieked in panic as soon as she noticed Harry's condition. The boy had not time to explain. He breathed with great difficulty, "Sally, where are my parents?"
"M-master James be at the Department of Aurors. Mistress L-Lily be visiting the Longbottoms f-for the day!"
"Go tell them there is an emergency. Now!"
"Y-yes! Sally is going!"
He kept running through the manor until he reached the bedroom that had been his for a long time before he'd decided to get away from all of this. He picked up a duffel bag in the closet. There were so much things to take, so much things to leave behind. So much things to get rid of so that no traces remained. Everything related to the muggle world and his schooling, Harry put them in a plastic bag he intended to throw in the fireplace later. All of the pictures magically enchanted or not were put in the duffel bag. They will be the only things that'll keep Harry tied to his most loved ones during his prolonged escapade.
He couldn't believe what was happening. He couldn't believe he was about to do this. He did not want to. But the choice had been reaped out from him since the revelation of the vision. Tears came flowing down his face while Harry busied himself with all the belongings he was going to take back to the muggle world. He was so angry. Angry at himself because one single mistake on his part had led to this disastrous situation, forcing him to leave everything behind. Angry at Bellatrix because she'd been the one to bring him to the Dark Lord. Angry at Voldemort because the man acted like he owned everything, from the wizarding community to the people living here. Because he did not give a single care about people like him, but suddenly butted in their business whenever he wanted as soon as he considered them worthy of his interest.
An interest Harry loathed deeply.
But above all, Harry was beyond scared. Scared of what the Dark Lord would do if he were to give him a chase. Scared of how, in the limitless restraints he possessed, Voldemort would proceed to retrieve who he inexplicably claimed as his. Scared of the secret he could find out in the middle of investigation about Harry Potter and his family.
Running away won't be enough. The boy had to disappear completely.
Lily was the first to barge into the bedroom, worry painted all over her face. The place was utterly chaotic. Clothes were scattered everywhere, piles of books here and there in the middle and other useless stuff filled the empty spaces on the carpet covering the floor. But the state of the room was not the cause of her pause. Clear green eyes were fixed upon Harry's, taking in the tears she hadn't seen since her son left the magical world to the muggle school for the first time several years ago.
"Harry..?"
He met her gaze, unable to do anything but stare for a long time. When his mouth opened, the voice sounded as rough as sandpaper.
"I'm sorry."
Lily came closer. "Harry, what is happening?"
"Mum, I'm so sorry. It's my fault. This is the only way… I'm sorry—"
The rest was muffled by strong arms around the shaking body. The touch was not evil or suffocating like Voldemort's. This embrace was very warm. Sincere. It was all Harry needed at this moment. He let himself be lulled into this maternal tenderness that no spell would be able to break. He couldn't believe it was the last time he would welcome those loving arms.
When James burst in the bedroom a minute after Lily, Harry couldn't hold it any longer. He explained everything. Bennett, Bellatrix, Voldemort, the vision. They were in danger.
Lily was a crying mess at the end. As for James, he was literally shaking with fury. It was not directed at his son, Harry knew, but at the Dark Lord. They immediately understood what their son was trying to do. What he had to do. They could not leave the manor together. Allen was safe at Hogwarts. Leaving right now would put a target on their back and the Potters would be chased down until the end. Voldemort's reign had already reached Europe, so that left America. But then again, they would not be living, but barely surviving while being constantly on guard, overtaken by the guilt of having abandoned Allen behind.
There was no other option. They had to let Harry go alone.
"Tell Allen not to send me any letter. I… I promise I'll contact you one day. But- not now. For a while." For a long, long while. It would take months, if not years, before Harry make sure he's off Voldemort's radar.
Another sob escaped the woman's lips. She was desperately clinging onto her son, not ready to let him go. She would never be. Harry's heart clenched when James joined the embrace, murmuring words that were meant to reassure, maybe more to himself than his son but the effect was the same. It was time. The coin glittered in the daylight. One touch, one word, and it would be over.
He did not want to go. He did not want to leave.
He did not want—
The Portkey activated.
.
I corrected most of the mistakes but as English is not my first language there might still be some...
Next chap is finished and ready.