AN: Thank you for your support everyone. Rating upped to M. Enjoy.

Ch 11: Rise of The Lord

It is often said that life can become difficult if you try to achieve too much instead of the initial goal you had set up for yourself at the beginning.

Harry understood what it meant now.

Fleur opened her eyes with a snap and sat up.

Memories of the day rushed to her head in an instant leading her to palm her face shamefully. Morgana, she had allowed Potato to best her. After humiliating the bitch in front of the entire stadium and taking a ridiculous amount of perverse pleasure in doing so, she had allowed herself to be taken down by that same bitch. How…there were just no words to describe this.

Sighing regretfully, she looked around herself, trying to determine where she sat. It must have been some time before she had gained her consciousness. This particular sleep spell was difficult to perform and required extreme concentration, that's why Potato wasn't able to do much of anything with it to the Dragon. She, however, was a human and the jealous witch was prepared.

She guessed it was the Hogwarts Hospital Wing. She had spent much time here with Harry in the past weeks.

Her back straightened.

Harry!

Potato might not have won it after all. She remembered Harry chasing the girl, trying to outrun her to the shield. He might have won instead. Why was she alone here anyway? She had thought after taking care of Harry so much, at least he would be there with her when she got up.

For some reason, she was getting a bad feeling out of this.

Her bed was covered on all sides by tarpaulin, blocking her view of the outside, though she could hear an array of voices beyond the curtains now if she concentrated.

"-ut how is that possible Dumbledore? Barty Crouch Jr. died in Azkaban." an angry voice spluttered.

"I assure you Cornelius, he is the same one. This was Lord Voldemort's plan-"

"Enough! I have heard that nonsense from you enough times. You-Know-Who is dead."

"He might be, for now. But he won't be dead for long if we don't hurry. This man might know something that can help us-"

"Ahem! Ahem!" A woman cleared her throat and spoke in a sugary voice that even Fleur could tell dripped with scorn. "If I may, Minister. Headmaster Dumbledore seems to be in the misconception that he is in authority to interrogate a subject of the Ministry, which is clearly not the case here. I suggest we finish off the work with the Dementors here without any delay and make our way for the meeting with Lord Malfoy."

"Yes. Yes, Dolores. You are, of course, correct. We shall give the kiss to the prisoner right away."

"No!" Dumbledore's voice wasn't calm anymore. "This is my school Cornelius. I won't jeopardize the morals of this great institution. Those monsters will leave immediately or-"

"Or what, Headmaster? Are you threatening the Minister? If that is the case, it might be necessary to charge you with treason as soon as possible."

What in Adelard's name was happening here?, Fleur wondered. Cornelius most certainly seemed to be that fat fudge of the English Minister. The woman might be one of his lackeys in power of authority if she was challenging Albus Dumbledore of all people in his own school. Fleur thought it was interesting how these English worked.

"I might be, Madam Umbridge. One of my students is abducted-"

"There is no proof that Harry Potter has been kidnapped."

An involuntary gasp echoed out of her throat as she heard this simple sentence. This wasn't interesting anymore. Kidnapped. By that evil dark lord?

Fleur shook her head.

She looked around for her wand and found it at her bedside. She quickly swung her legs around and stood up, calmly walking through the tarpaulin to confront the pink toad who stood before her now.

A fat man with a green bowler hat and a tall wizard with an equally tall beard stood with this short pink human shaped toad mentioned previously. Another man was sat on his knees surrounded by two horrid cloaked monsters hovering above him separated by the trio of politicians by a strong phoenix patronus guarding them.

Fleur walked straight towards the Headmaster who had noticed her approach by now.

"What 'appened?" she asked him pointedly, ignoring any other necessities.

"Miss Delacour-", started the venerable old man in a sad voice.

"Ahem! Ahem!" Fleur sighed at the interruption. "The English Ministry of Magic is not answerable to a French half-breed like you, Miss Delacour. You should learn not to interrupt your betters or it might-"

"Stupefy. Stupefy." The English Minister and the toady collapsed, just as Fleur turned to Albus Dumbledore with blazing blue eyes and positively growled. "What. Happened? Where. is. Harry. Potter?"

Albus quickly ascertained the situation and realized that it was better this way. Now, if only those birdy features on Miss Delacour were to disappear…

~X~X~X~X~

Pain.

He wasn't a stranger to this word. But this was getting a little too weird.

Usually, he at least awoke fit and whole and then, as the dooms day wore off, he would gradually start feeling cracks and cramps all over his body. This time though, it seemed all his nerve endings were chopped, coated with extra olive oil and then fried to a crisp even before he was all awake.

His eyes snapped open and a gut wrenching scream tore off from his raw throat.

Slowly, breath by breath, the pain ebbed to a bearable degree where the occasional grunts, gasps and the continuous tears would suffice.

Someone slapped him hard across the cheek and pulled on his hair tightly.

A face slowly came into view, lifting the fog of dimness on his brain in a snap and another scream echoed in the silent atmosphere. This time, it was of rage, of betrayal.

Peter Pettigrew.

The rat had surprised him by coming out of nowhere to attack him as soon as he had landed out of the unexpected portkey. He was already dizzy due to that damn spell from that damn girl and dodging one stunner was all he could do in that state. That wasn't a problem for his abductor though as Harry soon got another stunner in the face and he knew no more.

Now, he was being woken up, tied up in a bundle of ropes with pain lancing all over his body and especially concentrated somewhere in his head, namely his scar. Blood was slowing oozing out of his head from a long gash somewhere. Blah…

"Fucker." Harry spat. "I thought you hid in a rat hole somewhere after your pathetic whining that day."

The man just looked at him like a coward as Harry glared at him hatefully. Or so he thought.

Another slap echoed in the silence and once more, his head was jerked up forcefully from his hair. He could see a malice filled smile bloom over the traitor's face. "Harry. I am your uncle. Give me some respect. What would Lily say if she hears you talking like this? I am about to send you to her and James, you see."

"Don't take their names from your dirty mouth, you asshole." snarled Harry, trying to break free of his bindings and smash that smile off the rat's face. "Just cut me loose once and you will meet them soon. I won't let you live this time. I will cut your filthy body into small-small pieces and feed them to Hermione's cat, Crookshanks. Remember him…he'd love me for finally supplying him with your rat size remains." Harry finally noticed a flash of fear in Pettigrew's eyes and smirked. "What? Scared Wormtail? I am just getting started here…"

"Enough" a voice hissed from somewhere before Pettigrew could reply. "Enough, Wormtail. Faster. Faster."

Harry's eyes immediately went to the small ugly red baby hiding in a white polybag nearby and he finally deemed it fit to assess his situation, rather than wasting his time in arguing with Wormtail any longer.

He knew that baby was Voldemort.

That was the reason behind the throbbing headache he was suffering from.

Fuck.

"Y-yes. Y-yes, Master." Wormtail whimpered.

It was almost comical to notice how the facial expressions on the man's face changed from glee at Harry's torment to fear at Voldemort's voice in an instant. Harry wondered if this was the power Voldemort kept spouting off whenever he met him. He was sure he would get a long healthy dose of his brand's wisdom this time as well.

So…Harry thought, trying and failing to keep himself calm, as Wormtail moved away and he noticed an extra large cauldron lying uselessly in front of him. His first thoughts were that it looked green. On looking around a bit, he gathered that he was tied to a hideous statue of a fallen angel of some kind and that he was surrounded by a plethora of graves. Now, that was worrying. Voldemort and graves…not a good combination. Especially when the monster was outside and Harry himself was tied up from head to toe and more than a few of his bones were snapped or at least cracked.

He looked on as Wormtail started filling the Cauldron up to the brim with an awful lot of ingredients after conjuring a large flame beneath it.

Hmmm…Harry came to the conclusion that he was obviously kidnapped by Voldemort for some elaborate ritual that would provide him with some semblance of a body if he were to go with the now bubbling Cauldron in front of him and Wormtail throwing the Babymort inside it.

"God, don't make it work. Don't make it work. Don't make it work. Please."

"Bone of the father, unknowingly given…"

Creepy…

"Flesh of the servant, willingly sacrificed…"

A blood curdling scream echoed in the silence as the hand dropped in the Cauldron. Harry's eyes widened to never before seen proportions as he witnessed the rapid flow of blood from the stump which was Wormtail's hand just a few moments ago. Never before in his dreams would he have thought the man capable of doing this...TO HIMSELF.

Son-of-a-Bitch. You rotten pig…

Wormtail stood up unsteadily on his legs and wiped away some of his tears by the back of his remaining hand. He looked upwards and met Harry's eyes as if in a challenge to prove that he wasn't a coward anymore. Slowly, he stepped towards him.

No, no, no. Don't come here. Don't come here you...no, no, not my hand, not my hand too. Ah..ah, fuck. Whoosh, only a cut Harry. Merlin. Only a teensy beensy scratch…yeah. Yeah.

"Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken, you will resurrect your foe." Wormtail wheezed and finally dropped on the ground.

Awwww…shit.

Suddenly, the silence around the eerie graveyard was drowned by the gales of stormy winds and the thunderous roar of the clouds. The blood red color in the Cauldron turned a brilliant blinding white as it started throwing diamond sparks all around. Harry knew in that instant that this one of all the ridiculous schemes of Voldemort had worked.

So, I might die after all.

For some reason, that one thought brought an absolute calmness in his whirring, dizzying brain which was previously being blasted apart by a thousand thoughts per second. If he were surely to die, then there was obviously no point in fearing Death. And as Wormtail said, he might after all meet Mum and Dad.

A soft sigh inadvertently escaped his lips and he smiled.

Lovely…

From the absolute brightness of the sparkling liquid in the Cauldron, an astoundingly black mist arose. As Harry watched with fascination in his eyes instead of fear and Wormtail groveled beside the Cauldron, the mist slowly gained weight and flesh. Soon, a tall, skeletally thin and completely nude Lord Voldemort was standing before him.

Harry's smile disappeared as he swallowed his own bile back inside.

"Robe me." the cold, snake voice hissed as Wormtail stood up and scurried around to cover his Master.

"Yuck." said Harry casually. "God, your face is horrible but I doubt even Dumbledore could unpetrify himself if you were to open your robe in front of him. And yes, it's that awful."

Lord Voldemort turned towards Harry Potter and smiled.

Now, there were only a few who had seen that one particular smile and lived to carry on the tale. Harry, despite his rather brave thoughts just a few moments ago, felt a chill run down along his spine.

"Ah! Harry. How nice of you to join me here. I see we are both humans now. I remember it not being so when I met you last time. You will taste the pleasure of roaming the lands in that state quite soon. In fact…" Voldemort raised his wand as a green light slowly gathered at its tip and Harry gulped. This was it. This was the moment his oh-so-short life would finally end.

Hell, this was happening too fast.

Too fast. Too fast. Too fast. No proper villainous speech. No spouting off your tragic past, great victories and promises of a grand future in front of a long army of evil and corrupt servants ready to serve their wicked, immoral, sinful, foul, vile, dishonorable, depraved, reprobate, villainous, nefarious, vicious, malicious, malevolent, sinister, demonic, devilish, diabolical, fiendish, dark, monstrous, shocking, despicable, atrocious, heinous, odious, contemptible, horrible, execrable, lowdown, dirty badass of a master…

God.

Voldemort looked down and smirked, as if he could read each and every one of Harry's thoughts and was impressed at his vocabulary. With a start, Harry realized that he probably could. Fleur had once told him about such level of mind magic where a superior wizard could unravel the secrets of the lesser wizard's mind only with the aid of a glance or an eye contact without even lifting his wand. He quickly tried to snap his eyes shut but they were now being held tightly by some invisible force that didn't let him.

Harry was quite sure now that he was correct in his initial assumption.

"Yes. You are." Voldemort chuckled.

You are a dog. Harry thought, just for the sake of irritating the hideous creature in his last moments but Voldemort deemed the insult too childish to react to and only lowered his wand.

"As per your requests Harry, we will talk soon…I promise. After all, your blood flows in my veins now. You are, in a round about way, my step-father." Harry tried not to gag but it was too much of an effort. Voldemort gave him a thoughtful look and laughed. Harry couldn't see what was so amusing in that vile notion but guessed it was something for Riddle. Then he realized that his laughter wasn't amusing. It was mocking. Although, Harry wasn't quite sure who was being mocked.

"I can do, at least, this much for you. You see, dad, my original father was but a lowly muggle. Left my whore of a mother behind to beg, to grovel, in streets. Imagine. The heiress of the Great Salazar Slytherin with the purest of the purest blood left to sell herself in front of ugly old men, just for a piece of bread. She was pregnant, you see…had to feed her son."

Voldemort paused for a moment and turned as if to gather his thoughts or pondering some great secret of the universe. Then he spoke, and his voice had an oddly inquisitive tone to it. For an instant, Harry thought he could almost compare it to Dumbledore's if there wasn't that hissing quality to it.

"I don't get it Harry." the Dark Lord continued in a thoughtful tone. "Why do mothers always go to such lengths to protect their offspring? Your mother could have lived. I gave her the option, you see. I told her to stand aside and let me finish you off. I gave her my word that I would grant her life if she would let me kill you. I would have kept my word…but she refused. She cried and begged and asked for mercy, not for herself but for you, and she refused to budge even as I pushed her away from your crib…I gave her the option to live. And she refused. Why? She could have conceived again. She could have lived a full life. I have no doubt now that she willfully, knowingly died that night. I don't understand why…"

With each sentence, Harry's eyes were widening even as he blinked rapidly, now that Voldemort had lifted whatever spell he had put on his eyelids.

"And my mother…yes, she was a mother too though she never even saw my face. She had no reason to live. No reason to give me birth. She could have just died and finished herself off. She should have killed my bastard father for what he did to her first though, for not accepting her…for not accepting me. But she carried on, lived like filth, scum, like a bitch, but ultimately gave me her life…willingly. For me." And then Voldemort started laughing. Long hysterical laughter came out of his snakish lips as if he had read the greatest jokes of all.

Then he snarled. "I hate my father. For not doing what was right, for not doing his duty towards me…it wasn't my fault that he was cheated, was it? But I hate her more. I hate her so much more. If only she was alive, I would have inflicted such misery on her that no mother would ever think of doing what she did. No mother would ever leave her son in an orphanage in care of old women who could not provide a lonely child with any semblance of a mother's love. In care of bullies who preferred torture of a six-year old as a better past time than anything else…"

Harry just remained still as a statue, not daring to breathe lest Voldemort change his decision and finish him off in a snap.

Suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, Voldemort came out of his trance and shook his head. "Ah! Its rare I get so sentimental, Harry Potter. Emotions. Not my cup of tea. You are the only privileged one to learn this much…never mind, you will die soon."

Harry wanted to point out that an astonished Wormtail was standing only a little farther away but the rat's life was important for Sirius' freedom. Damn you, Sirius.

Voldemort, unaware of his thoughts this time, continued. "But for now, let us invite some more of our friends for the party. It is getting rather lonely here, isn't it?"

Harry cautiously asked, "Errr…is my attendance mandatory?"

"Crucio"

Now, that was pain. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Knives. Needles. Hell. Oil. Fire. Flame. Fleur. What?

And then the pain was gone as he gasped for air.

"I hope you got your answer."

~X~X~X~X~

"The Dark Mark burns again, Albus. He is back." The dark cloaked professor called in a somber albeit urgent voice as the infirmary doors opened with a crash. He looked at the slumped forms of a fat man and a squat woman clad in pink on the floors and dismissed them as unimportant after a glance.

Another lean figure sat tied up in a chair and bound with ropes from head to toe, sneering and grinning alternatively towards the angry looking Veela and the distressed headmaster. As soon as Barty Crouch Jr. heard these words, a triumphant laughter echoed in the wing just followed by a series of sounds which can be heard when human skin collides with more human skin with a great force and pain lances through the tissue where the impact occurs.

"Indeed." said Dumbledore in a grave voice, giving Fleur a look, who was now rubbing her knuckles preparing to smash the imposter's face into a pulp once more. "We have found enough Ms. Delacour. Your interrogation techniques aren't needed any more. And Severus, I suggest you prepare yourself. As soon as we are back with Harry, you must leave to serve your Master. And if I hazard a guess, he won't be in a good mood."

Severus looked at the headmaster and Fleur got the impression that the two men were having a private conversation within their minds to keep her out of the loop. And it was getting highly irritating for her.

Harry might be any condition as of that moment. And he was surely getting worse…

What was so damn important that the headmaster couldn't wait for some more time.

"If you are done 'eadmaster, we must 'urry." said the angry half-veela, at last having had enough.

Snape gave Fleur a venomous look, not having forgotten his insult, which she returned with equal measure. With a final nod towards Dumbledore, the Potions Master departed to make his final preparations before meeting another one of his Masters. He knew he would have to administer a lot of Cruciatus relieving potions for his personal stores in the near future.

"I suppose you are coming then." asked Dumbledore, motioning Fleur towards the doors. For some reason, his twinkle had returned to his eyes.

Fleur just glared at the old man and stalked forward.

~X~X~X~X~

"…Lucius, Avery, Crabbe, Goyle, Macnair, my servants, my death eaters, my friends who took the oath to serve me eternally…not one of whom returned to aid their master. Why, I asked myself? And then I answered, perhaps they thought I had taken a momentary leave of absence and they would provide me with a better society when I would inevitably return from quests. So they slipped back amongst my enemies, pleading innocence, and ignorance, and bewitchment…"

"Master…"

"Crucio"

As Lucius Malfoy's screams echoed around the graveyard, the Lord Voldemort continued in a cold menacing voice. "But then I say, fourteen years is a long time. Why not look for me when they heard the rumors. Then I answer, perhaps they believed my powers broken. Perhaps they believed me defeated. Me, the immortal soul."

A great torrent of fire came out of Voldemort's wand in a sudden moment and rushed towards the unsuspecting Death Eaters. They flinched as one but just before the flames could lick their unmasked faces, they stopped. Thin beads of sweat dripped from their skin but they dared not raise their hands to wipe off their foreheads in the fear that their lord would mistake the gesture for something else entirely and punish them. More than he would already. "You thought that there exists a greater power than myself? The one who Gods themselves fear. You thought there exists a greater wizard than Lord Voldemort? Perhaps a champion for Muggles and Mudbloods and half-breeds? Perhaps…Albus Dumbledore."

No one spoke as Voldemort glared at his servants and they all held their collective breaths. Until one voice interrupted the dramatic thrashing.

"Or Harry Potter" said Harry from the side with a snicker that was sure to irritate 'the Lord of Darkness'. He was getting pretty bored after hearing the long evil monologue of the Dark Lord after learning how he killed his family after hearing about his muggle ancestory after learning about his mother herself and so on…

He was in no mood to hear a rant on Albus Dumbledore as well now.

Every head turned towards him and Lucius Malfoy stopped twitching and frothing from his mouth.

"Ah! I almost forgot about our guest of honor here." said Lord Voldemort with a cruel sneer. "You are correct, of course, Harry Potter. After all, you were the one who brought my fall."

Harry smirked. "See everyone…I am better than your current Master. Kill him and you will gain me as the new one. Wanna trade positions, Tom?"

"I see…" said Voldemort, moving a little too close for Harry's taste and bringing a long bony finger to his scar. "Or perhaps, it would be more prudent to say that your mudblood mother exceeded my expectations. She gave you her protection. Her blood. However, no more. I…can touch you now."

Through sheer will and power, Harry clenched his teeth tightly and refused to give another moment of satisfaction to this stupid dumbass dark lord who was hell bent on destroying everything because of his poor childhood. Papa problems, my shit. Send him to the Dursleys…then he'll understand. The agony was beyond imagination, surpassing even the taste of the Cruciatus, his head was split in tiny little pieces but he would not scream…

Lord Voldemort finally removed his finger and something akin to disappointment reflected on his face.

Harry chuckled as Voldemort glared at him.

"S-so co-cool of you, T-tom. You need to keep m-me tied up so that you could touch m-me." Another raspy laugh escaped his throat. "What a fucking pansy you are!"

His laughter echoed in the face of the almost immortal Dark Lord, taunting him, shaming him, bullying him…

And then, the creature hissed. "Untie him, Wormtail. And give him back his wand."

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