Pushed into Darkness

By Angelis Raye

A/N: I wish to announce the fact that this chapter is not Beta-ed. I actually really need a Beta now, due to some things that came up with my previous Beta. I apologize for the wait period between my chapters now, but I really need a good Beta that is able to get my chapters back to me within a DAY or two (at the most), not a week or a month later. If you wish to become my Beta, please drop a review on one of my fictions, preferably the one that I just updated, on any chapter, leaving your email address that you would like me to send the chapters to.

Thank you for reading this and being patient with me.

Angelis

Chapter 03:

Once, there was a part of him that almost hated being compared to Tom Riddle. Now? He wished he could be always that close to the younger Riddle. He longed for his touch, the feel of being one with the other, their existence overlapping with each other's, almost as if they were no longer two separate entities. Harry sighed, since there was no way he would be able to accomplish such a feat, since they already possessed the other's memories on top of their own, due to their link being widened over the time that they keep spending together. Harry felt all of what his soul mate and Lord felt, and Tom Riddle knew and felt what Harry felt. Oddly, even their appearances were becoming more and more alike, as Harry's stress and the experiments of the Aurors while he was locked away. Once rich, thick, untamable hair became streaked with white and grey, falling in waves around his face. Tom had thought it interesting that Harry had gone almost all grey by age 36, whereas Tom looked forty, rather than the ninety he was turning. The only difference between them seemed to be their eyes and that Harry now was always accompanied by a cane as well as his lover.

Speaking of the cane, Harry fingered it lovingly: it was made and wrought for him specially, made out of the finest materials and suited just for him. This device was used for leading himself rather than helping him keep his balance while walking; the brace that he wore on his leg took care of that problem, most of the time.

It seemed as though he was always tired, not having enough energy to get himself around anymore. He barely had enough energy to use lighting charms and summoning charms. Had something happened that the Aurors had damaged his magical core beyond his own repair? He pondered on this a short time more, but continued onto think about how Tom had managed in subduing all of the non-magical forces recently. His mind wandered again, this time to rest upon the rituals and the making of Horcruxes that he and his love had both went through to insure them both of immortality -- so many of them, taking the span of about ten or so years altogether. Harry would still age physically until he looked about forty to muggle standards as well, as seen with Tom, although he would not have to go through the rest of the rituals to restore his more human-looking appearance, since he did not lose his body like his love had done.

Upon hearing the distant knock of the end of a cane against the oaken door of their chambers, Harry started a little, Tom sitting up straighter, his hand still caressing Harry's right hand on top of the silken red sheets that decorated the bed. Calling for the visitor to come in, assuring that they were both somewhat dressed, the door was opened then closed again with a soft 'click', greased metal against metal. Heavy robes shifted as a cane was used ornamentally by one of the few Grand Nobles that the Dark Lord held so high in his ranks: Lucius Malfoy.

First was the bow to his masters, accompanied by the shifting of robes yet again and the creaking of boots against the smooth, polished wooden floor. "My Lords," was spoken softly by a cultured voice, well versed in how he should address his master. Without being asked, the messenger stood and answered the unasked question. "There is an approval of welcoming the Dark Lords of the Wizarding world at last, in Sweden. Almost expected, as Durmstrang is located in that area as well. It will be held in a week, on the 24th of September, before it gets too cold in the region for it to be unbearable for any visitors wishing to see the event. Please, be prepared for the media and other forms of press and exploiters." There was a pause worthy of noting. By the way that Tom was reacting, it made him all the more curious about what else his loyal servant had to say to the both of us. "There are also rumors that the Order will make one last attempt to either attain Harry Potter again -- chancing that he hasn't totally recovered from his recent containment in order to blackmail you -- or that they will try to kill you, my Lord."

Silence enveloped the room, grating on Harry's senses, ringing in his ears as he was distracted by the faint whispers of whatever was going on down the hall from the room, since that was the general safe-quarters for any Death Eaters that had been publicly put on the stand or ousted by the media or the Order. The newest ruler of the wizarding world was not completely liked by all, ever so readily; however, that would change soon enough, once the generation that had suffered through the majority of the beginnings of the war that were initially against the Dark Lord's reign would die, leaving the next generation in command, so-to-say.

"Is that all, Lucius?" Tom inquired, his voice low, quite near hissing. Harry turned my head towards him, feeling how he felt about being interrupted before he could enjoy their time alone together. Lucius also must have realized what he had interrupted as well, and quickly bowed -- his robes, boots, and cane making the noises of departure as he opened the door, closing it behind him quickly, not wanting to feel the wrath of his master again.

As soon as they both took in a much needed, deep breath, Tom pulled his love close to him, tracing patterns on the soft ivory skin of the warm body pressed up against him. "I still cannot believe that you are so tall... After everything that you had gone through, you should have been much shorter than myself, you must notice."

"I know," the other responded, breathing in his mate's scent, the cologne that intoxicated him and drove him to such levels of pleasure alone. "I don't believe it, either. Especially since it was only after I had completely exposed myself as one of your supporters..."

Words blended into thoughts and memories resurfaced, the two soul mates recalling it together, Tom with his hand on the other's forehead, caressing it softly:

"Harry, what is up with you?!" Ron demanded, outraged about Harry's recent change in attitude. "It's like you're never really 'here' all the time, anymore. Is there someone that you're seeing that makes you all day dreamy?"

Sneering, the other just pulled his cloak around himself a little tighter, feeling uneasy about his friends finding out about what he was doing every night with Tom. They weren't supposed to find out about his betrayal until it was time to face the Dark Lord himself, and the time was running short on that as well, it seemed. 'Oh, Tom... I wish that you would please hurry and attack! I don't think I can tolerate this interrogation anymore,' Harry thought silently, his hand racking through his hair in frustration. How was he to break the news to these people who had been his friends for so long? He knew that they wouldn't accept him once the news was released...

Around Christmas, the atmosphere at Hogwarts grew a little lighter, the students and staff relaxing a bit to enjoy the holiday. Unfortunately for them, however, the Dark Lord had planned on this. Since that blasted Dumbledore was no longer at Hogwarts, he no longer had to fear all of the protections that had surrounded the old school. Granted, he did not want to desecrate the school grounds -- since Salazar himself had helped found the school -- only raid the inside and have a "final showdown" with the Boy-Who-Lived. Once the school was attacked, everything happened so quickly, that very few people can recall the details of it -- only one that is still alive to this day. Sooner than expected, Harry was facing his love on the other side of the Great Hall, the tables (which had been pushed to the sides of the hall itself) charred and sparking a bit with remnants of the spells that had gone astray and hit them.

"Well, well, well... if it isn't the great Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived!" the Dark Lord laughed, sarcastically. "Come, and attack me, if you can!" With that, the supposed Final Battle ensued. Once Harry was sprawled out in front of the Dark Lord, flat on his face, he pulled himself together, ready for what was to happen. "Harry, my dear, this is the last time I'll ever ask this of you: Will you join me, sparring yourself and me from this pointless clash? After all, why should we be opposing each other, when we are so very alike?"

"I will, my Lord, my Master..." Harry humbly bowed, kissing the robes of the powerful Dark Lord before him. "I wish to only become more like you, so that the world may see how truly powerful you are, my Lord."

"Hold out your arm, then, Harry... Ah, there's a good boy. Now, don't scream too loud," Tom smirked, caressing the smooth, paling skin of the other's arm. Chanting the spell for the Marking, branding his newest follower to himself. The rush of magic that followed overwhelmed the rest of those who were present in the Great Hall, astounding even the Dark Lord himself. Hurriedly, the Dark Lord swept his soul mate into his arms, carrying him out of the castle grounds, in order to apparate back to the Riddle Manor.

"Tom?" was all that Harry could utter before passing out in his new Master's arms.

To Be Continued...