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The Dark Shape drew closer to the back of the throne and dragged one of his long nails over the gold surface of the throne, producing a loud, shrill screeching sound.
Harry grew impossibly still at the sound. His eyes were closed tightly and he was practically panting now. His chest was heaving and he was slowly beginning to realize the fact that he was going to die. While his mind was willing to accept that. It seemed that his body wasn't prepared. Harry's heart was stumbling over its own rhythm.
The Dark shape felt highly amused by the reactions his simple actions were eliciting from the boy. He had always enjoyed fear. He tapped his foot on the floor and heard the sound echo around the room.
The ghost was here and Harry was beginning to realize that it wasn't a ghost. He'd heard it coming; the soft susurration of its footsteps, like a threatening whisper. It didn't seem to come from any direction, just a sound that encapsulated him inside his cocoon of despair and hopelessness. Harry struggled hard to discern where the sound was coming from but he couldn't.
The Dark shape nearly laughed. He was enjoying this. For years, he had been deprived of any kind of entertainment and now he finally had a way to amuse himself. And then there was the matter of him being a parselmouth. He was extremely curious to investigate it. He definitely wouldn't kill him, in fact he intended to keep him alive as long as he would last. Slowly he moved his nail over the back of Harry's neck and spoke in a smooth, silky voice,
"Greetings."
Harry trembled uncontrollably as he felt the touch and he would have jumped if the restraints hadn't been holding him in place. His entire body was tensed up and he felt as if his heart would stop beating. Harry told himself over and over again not to be afraid but his body wasn't listening to him. He moistened his lips and when he spoke his voice came out broken,
"Hello."
The Dark shape titled its head as he assessed the response. He had expected him to beg for his life rather than say a simple hello. He found himself highly amused by it and laughed heartily.
The sound of the laughter reverberated through the room. Harry felt his fear beginning to slip away and being replaced by utter recklessness. He was certain that there was no ghost. There was a person standing behind him, a man by the sounds of it. The same silky voice rang out again,
"Hello? I imagined that you would plead for your life."
Harry failed to see the humour in that. Why would he beg for life? It wasn't like he had a reason to live and death did seem like the most obvious choice for him. Regardless, Harry felt his curiosity get the better of him,
"Are you a ghost?"
More laughter ensued. Harry opened his eyes and tried to crane his neck back to see the person talking to him,
"A ghost? Do I feel like a ghost?"
Harry shook his head. He had no idea where his fear had gone. Right now, the only thing he felt was inquisitiveness and recklessness. He was also itching with the desire to see his captor. He could still feel something sharp on the back of his neck. Well, he had already established that he wasn't a ghost,
"You're not."
Harry realized that this was his chance to get most of his questions answered but he was just about ask when the person behind him inquired,
"What is your name?"
Harry felt that it was an odd question. What would the man do with his name if he intended to kill him? Nevertheless, he spoke,
"Harry."
Harry quickly followed by a question of his own,
"What's yours?"
For a moment, there was utter silence. Harry had almost stopped expecting a response when the silky voice sliced through the silence,
"Lord Voldemort."
Harry wondered what kind of a name was that? It was odd. Surely it wasn't his real name. He was about to voice that when he thought better of it and spoke,
"Why am I here? How did I even get here?"
Voldemort removed his nail from the back of Harry's neck and contemplated whether to reply. It was obvious that Harry was not afraid anymore. He had heard that name before, he just couldn't quite remember where. He noticed that Harry's posture wasn't as tense as it had been a few minutes ago. Even his breathing had returned back to normal. He decided to end the conversation,
"You shall not attempt to leave the premises of this castle. You are free to explore the castle but I advise you to remain wary of my death eaters. They shall not hesitate to harm you but that locket around your neck might provide you with some level of protection. Lastly, I expect to see you at the dining hall every day at precisely seven for dinner."
Harry felt shocked at that. It was too much information for him to digest but the first question that escaped his lips was,
"Death what?"
Voldemort chuckled darkly. The sound made the small hairs across Harry's body stand on end. Voldemort knew that he would feel highly amused to see Harry's reaction when he would meet his death eaters. He decided that the conversation was over and had just turned back to depart when Harry spoke again,
"Why haven't you killed me?"
Voldemort turned back and looked at Harry's back. He noticed that his shoulders were set with determination. He failed to understand him. One moment Harry had been terrified, in the next, he was curious, and now, he was determined to die. He felt fascinated by him. He had never been faced with a challenge in years. He was certain that discovering everything about Harry was a challenge and he was ready to face that challenge. But after he had fulfilled it, he would have to get rid of him unless his death eaters got to him first.
Harry closed his eyes again. He was still waiting for a response that he doubted would ever come. His eyes shot open as the reply came,
"I shall when I have suitably unravelled you. But until then, try not to perish."
Check out my fanfic named "Elusion". Let me know what you guys think. Just follow the link below or visit my profile. Looking forward your feedback
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