Disclaimer: I own none of these characters.
More violence and blood-y descriptions but nothing extreme.
Enjoy!
A Cold Green
Arrogance
"Faster."
Harry scowled and worked his tiring arms further. He'd managed to fight his way past the barrier of aches and pains that came along with days of continued physical exercise and was struggling on with his stamina weaknesses.
But anyone with half a brain could do push-ups.
"This isn't a very advanced workout." Harry complained loudly to the pacing vampire.
A boot came down slowly on the back of his head and pressed it downwards awkwardly so that his nose touched the floor.
"And yet," Vladimir replied quietly, "You seem to struggle."
Harry growled as the boot released his head and he sped up his pace. Thankful that whatever conversation Voldemort had had with the vampire had calmed his apparent thirst for Harry's blood, he was still rather wary of the large man's actions around him.
His only decoration for the past two hours had been the floor at varying distances. With one hundred and twenty six push-ups to go he hoped to be done as fast as possible and put all of his effort into the last few.
Mind you, the sooner he finished, the sooner he would be put into some other stupid muggle workout. This was the sort of thing his brother and his friends did to show off to girls – it hardly seemed assassin-material.
"Are you sure there's nothing else I could be doing instead?" Harry pressed.
"Less talk."
He scowled and wiped the sweat from his forehead, his press-ups becoming slower as he went on. It was going to be another long day.
Oooooooooooooo
"Punch me."
"Excuse me?"
"Punch me in the chest as hard as you can."
Harry frowned at the vampire disbelievingly.
"So you have an excuse to hit me back?" He asked suspiciously.
Vladimir smiled thinly, but stood solidly within an arms reach of Harry.
"I don't need an excuse to hit you. Now punch."
Harry shrugged and threw as hard a punch as he could at the large chest. He expected it to have had a greater impact than it did however, as the last week of training had strengthened his muscles significantly.
Apparently not significantly enough.
Vladimir didn't even flinch and instead told him to hold his current position as he moved behind Harry and readjusted his stance. He then proceeded to show him how to punch properly and how to put one's body's power behind the action.
Harry sucked all the information up earnestly. This was the sort of thing he was interested in – combat. Never mind any more of that push-up, cardiovascular stamina rubbish.
Unfortunately however, the next few months focussed heavily on his fitness and stamina, and after a hard days work in the classroom the last thing he ever wanted to do was agility training or speed training.
The classroom work wasn't too bad initially but after the first couple of weeks it started heating up and Harry assumed that they were seeing how hard they could press him before he broke. He wasn't going to break though – he was determined to show them how well he could work and after a hard days tutoring and an evening in Vladimir's self-made gym he would often be found in the manor's library revising and researching the next days work.
To his disappointment he saw little of Voldemort and was instead passed off on other members of the inner circle. Apparently it was hard work being a Dark Lord. Vladimir's mood swings towards him were still too erratic to earn his complete trust and Snape was just never around enough to have a decent conversation with.
Harry found himself feeling lonely once more.
One evening several months into his stay at the manor he found himself unable to sleep and instead threw some clothes back on and wandered into the hallway. It was late so there was little movement. This manor was used primarily for planning and strategies so only those of Voldemort's most trusted servants were ever allowed to visit.
The advantage of this was that very few knew of his existence. After the attack at Hogwarts his death had been announced in the papers alongside a picture of his teary eyed family members. Heartbroken, Harry had thought wryly. Any publicity stunt would do. The memory of this article cast a shadow over Harry's mind as he remembered the werewolves.
Remus.
The newspaper had detailed the names of the casualties involved and sure enough, his godfather's name had been there. Part of him had hoped that Remus had somehow escaped the spell but there it had been in black and white for the world to see.
The section that riled him up the most was the quote from Dumbledore claiming that 'although the spell cast saved the lives of many within the castle, the results of the incantation were serious indeed and the caster remains unknown'. Unknown! Harry had laughed bitterly at the time. His father had obviously decided that the repercussions of his valiant act had been too negative and so he had kept quiet about the affair.
He felt somehow vindicated that his father had been prepared to cause those men such agony and pain however, as it gave him reason to do the same. The side of the 'light' wasn't as shiny and innocent as it was cracked up to be and Harry felt no guilt in performing dark spells anymore. They were all hypocrites and he himself was one of the few people carrying out the actions that he had always intended – he had decided to turn dark and he was doing so. There was no in-between anymore.
Harry found himself in front of the heavy doors to the Dark Lord's meeting chambers once more. A faint light spilled out from underneath and Harry frowned. Who would be in there at this time of night? No-one should have had access except the Dark Lord himself and he was supposed to be away on business this week.
Harry knew he wasn't supposed to enter the room and hadn't been there since Vladimir had trashed it during their initial lesson… that seemed like years ago now. And if Voldemort wasn't here then he would be doing him a favour in checking the situation out.
Opening the door silently and practising some of the manoeuvres he had been taught he surveyed the initial area. The room had been repaired since his first visit and the large heavy table stood once more where it should be. The there was no flickering from the fire so he assumed it was unlit. The faint light came instead from a set of candles that he remembered standing on the desk.
Shutting the door behind him silently he entered the room, eyes and ears alert. He kept his legs prepared to duck down or jump out in any direction and was rather proud of how soundlessly he was making his way across the large room.
Sudden movement from behind a bookcase sent him into a crouch behind the nearest chair and he hoped that there was enough shadow on this side of the room for him to remain unnoticed.
The tall figure of a man walked out casually, head bent over the book as if deeply absorbed in its contents. He set the book down on the table but remained standing – leaning on the desk as he read. Harry watched for some time before making his journey towards the man for a better look.
He knew better than to attack any random stranger as they might have been a guest of Voldemort, but this man was browsing through the Dark Lord's books as if they were his own. Harry felt an impatient anger bubbling up inside him. It wasn't as if he and Voldemort were best friends but technically the Dark Lord was his master now, so he felt obliged to defend the manor and its contents.
He now stood within two steps of the tall man and was able to make out the slight creases on his face accented in the light from the candles. He had a slight goatee but where the hairs used to be black many of them were turning to white. Judging by his posture and the way he held his wide shoulders however, Harry still struggled to call him 'old' and decided against physical contact if and where possible as the man looked stronger than he guessed he himself was.
Sliding his wand silently from his sleeve as the man turned another page Harry took a deep breath and stepped out confidently from the shadows wand pointed directly at the man's head. As he did this however, the man himself whirled around and Harry found the stranger's wand millimetres from his own nose.
The intense eyes of the man blinked in surprise before the expression was replaced with anger. Harry held his ground however, and overcame the unnerving speed at which the man had turned.
"Who the hell are you?" He asked, his voice strong.
The man raised an eyebrow and lowered his wand slightly.
"It's of none of your concern. And who are you, boy, security now?" He asked, his voice strangely familiar to Harry's ears.
Harry held his wand securely in position and a blank expression on his face.
"I hope you have permission to be in here." Harry continued, making it up as he went along.
"I do, and I know for a fact that you do not." Snapped the man in return, "Lower your damn wand, boy. If I'd wanted to hurt you, you would be dead by now."
Harry scowled, the anger in his chest welling upwards at this comment.
"Who are you?" He asked again, this time more curious than impatient.
"I said," The man growled, "That is none of your concern."
With a speed Harry wouldn't have thought the man possessed his hand snapped up and knocked Harry's wand out of the way. Harry, thanks to his recent practise, was quick to retaliate and spun around, moving his wand out of harm and firing the first advanced curse that entered his mind.
As he did this, the man had obviously had the same idea and a searing red spell grazed Harry's chest, causing him to breath in deeply as it scorched his clothing. Again it was thanks to Vladimir's positioning that he had automatically stood side on to his attacker rather than facing him head on.
"Not bad."
Harry scowled darkly at the condescending tone of the stranger.
"Who are you to judge me?" He snapped angrily, throwing another powerful curse at the man who sidestepped it easily.
"I," The man said slowly, twirling his wand, "Am someone who you should be more civil towards."
With an electric blast of blue light Harry was lifted of his feet by the spell he wasn't expecting and thrown roughly to the ground, wand skittering out of sight across the shiny floor and into the shadows.
"You can't just-!"
Harry's yell was cut off as he acknowledged the wand positioned perilously close to his nose.
"I can do what I like, Harry."
Harry frowned in confusion and pulled himself up on his arms to get a better look at the speaker.
"How do you-?"
"Shh."
What he hell was going on? Who was this guy? And how did he know Harry's name? Harry withdrew slightly, a piece of his thick hair falling before his eyes as the stranger kneeled down beside him conspiratorially and watched Harry's no doubt confused expression. The man frowned.
"You really need a haircut, boy, you know that?"
"You can't just come and tell me things like that! Who are you and what-?"
A finger came down on Harry's mouth lightly and he closed it. His chest was really burning where that spell had connected and he was most uncomfortable on the floor next to this weird guy.
"Call me Tom, Harry…"
The man seemed to be trying to tell him something but Harry could only stare back at him blankly.
"Tom what?"
"Tom Riddle."
Again there was what Harry felt like calling a dramatic pause, judging by the way the stranger was looking at him, but he had no idea why the name should have been significant to him. He was good at history – he was just sure he'd never heard the name Tom Riddle before.
"I'm sorry but I don't know who you are. You had better be significant to the Dark Lord though, because if I find out that you've broken in here without his permission then-"
"Then what?" Tom asked with a small smile, "You're a cocky little thing aren't you? Tell me Harry, what will you do?"
Harry glared angrily at this Tom character who was obviously making fun of him. The anger swirled within his chest once more and he felt like punching the man. His instincts were telling him not to, however, since he was wandless and the man had thrown him across the room with that blue spell earlier - the thought of which made Harry rub his chest carefully.
"I'll kill you." He said quietly, meeting Tom's familiar eyes.
"Will you really?" Tom replied equally as quietly, keeping the stare, "And have you ever killed anyone before, Harry?"
Harry swallowed, getting the impression that he was out of his depth here. He didn't answer and Tom Riddle continued,
"I can see your skills have increased since you arrived here, but do you really think yourself capable of murder?" He asked, his voice almost a whisper.
Harry considered. When it was put like that he wasn't so sure, but if it were someone he was emotionally detached from … someone who he had reason to hate… Something deep inside his self made the decision for him and he heard his voice reply quite coldly,
"Yes."
Tom stared deep in his eyes for quite some time after this statement, seeming to consider the answer carefully.
"Good… good… well, I'm afraid you won't be killing me tonight, Harry. I will, however, keep this conversation in mind."
The man stood up in one swift movement, his cloak fluttering past Harry's face as he turned. Standing up Harry retrieved his wand from the shadows and stood, unsure of what to do next.
"You can go back to your bed, Harry."
But he was still uneasy leaving the man with access to all the Dark Lord's books and writing.
"Harry," The voice hissed, "Go to bed."
Harry's head snapped up on hearing the parseltongue and he stared at the figure by the desk. Tom Riddle's eyes had changed from their blue grey tones of earlier to a very familiar deep endless red that watched Harry's reaction in amusement.
"Voldemort?" Harry asked in horror, feeling very foolish all of a sudden.
Tom Riddle smiled and gave the hint of a nod before returning to his books and ending his interest in Harry for the evening.
Harry felt his face flush red in embarrassment and he made himself scarce as fast as he could. Only when he was safely back in his room did he bang his head off the door several times, cursing his stupidity.
"Tom who?" He mimicked angrily, kicking a footstool out of the way.
Now Voldemort would think he was a complete idiot.
Oooooooooooo
"You're an idiot."
"I'm at a fourth year level and I'm only thirteen! Give me a chance, won't you?" Harry replied in frustration.
Snape did no such thing and read over his work once more, scowl permanently attached to his dark eyes.
"What gives you the slightest indication that this spell would work in this situation?" He sneered, waving the parchment at Harry.
"I don't know," Harry said shortly, "Your teaching skills?"
Snape slammed the parchment down on the desk angrily and glared at Harry's defiant posture.
"I have far better things to be doing with my time than wasting it with you. You're an ungrateful little brat, you know that?" He snapped.
Harry shrugged nonchalantly, hoping to inflame Snape's temper further and succeeding. The more people called him names, the more he felt the need to act up and Snape always found some reason to do so. Snape whirled around suddenly and stalked to the door of the makeshift classroom in a stormcloud of grumpiness.
"Well then, enjoy explaining to the Dark Lord why you haven't completed the weeks work because I'm leaving. I have things that needs to be done at the castle and don't have the time to work my way around your ego."
With a slam Snape exited and Harry sat back in his chair thoughtfully. Did he really need Snape's help to complete the weeks work? He slid his textbook over to him carefully and flicked through the chapters. Most of this he could probably practise by himself. It wouldn't be the first time he had driven away an instructor - Lucius Malfoy had recently given up on teaching him manners and Vladimir had almost lost the thread at him for refusing to spend another whole day doing exercise.
But Snape was different. Harry knew the Dark Lord would have words with him and by next week he'd be back in the classroom, swooping around the place and scoffing at everything Harry wrote. He was getting a tad bored with his routine however. It had been almost a year already and although it didn't feel like it he had learned a lot from his instructors. The Dark Lord still refused to teach him anything personally however and this annoyed him.
Why was he still not capable? He could do spells at a fourth grade level, could perform excellent gymnastic moves and he knew most of the basic Dark Arts books off by heart. Basically, Harry felt like he was doing excellently and he didn't understand why nobody else would recognize this.
Maybe, he thought with a darkening expression, it was because he was still 'too young'. He was thirteen, almost fourteen! How old did he have to be? He was sure most of the Death Eaters he met had started doing proper Dark magic at that sort of age!
"Another tutor walked out? Oh, the Dark Lord won't be pleased with you…"
Harry scowled and turned to the old man who had just entered. He wore brown robes and had a long messy beard not dissimilar to Dumbledore's. Harry had seen him around before but because of the man's unkempt appearance had just ignored him.
"What?" He snapped.
The little old man gave the floor a brief sweep with the battered looking brush he gripped and chuckled quietly. The noise reminded Harry of a broken car engine trying to start and this only irritated him further.
"I've heard all about your other disagreements," The man informed him eventually, "News travels fast around here."
"What of them? I should be allowed to choose what I want to learn." Harry said authoritatively.
"Not when you're here under the good and generous will of the Dark Lord." The man said looking down his nose at Harry as if this information was extremely valuable to him.
"I'm here because I want to be here." Harry argued uncertainly.
The little old man gave a chuckle again and brushed another flagstone.
"You're here because he believes you could be of use to him. The second you become too much bother he can get rid of you just like that,"
The man snapped his fingers feebly and gave another brush. Harry scowled at the noise.
"And although I shouldn't be telling you," The man said, leaning closer and dropping his voice to a hiss, "That second is very near if you continue in this manner."
Harry swept his books up from the table and moved closer to the door, his cheeks red. What did the man mean? He wasn't that bad surely! His only vice was knowing what he wanted and what was good for him when no-one else could see it.
"That's not true." He said dangerously, "I know what I'm doing and I know what I want. There's nothing wrong with that."
"Ahhh but there is when you go against the Dark Lord's wishes." The man said giving another little sweep.
The mental thread that controlled Harry's anger snapped and he grabbed the broom from the old man, throwing it across the room angrily.
"People can't tell me what to do! Not anymore! You can say what you want but I know I'm in the right." He yelled, marching towards the open door.
"Arrogance won't earn you respect. You've become more like your brother than you know."
Harry stopped short in the doorway upon hearing this. He couldn't find the words to answer and just stood there as the old man's gravely voice continued.
"To the world, you're already dead. If the Dark Lord gets rid of you, nobody will even know…"
Harry stormed down the corridor, his ears ringing with the old man's laughter.
The Dark Lord didn't want rid of him, did he? Was he arrogant? Was he like his brother? Harry shut himself up in his bedroom quickly and tossed his textbooks aside – walking to the mirror and gazing into it worriedly.
He had grown slightly, he supposed, but his frame was still relatively thin and his eyes still dominated his face. His hair had had several trims during the course of the year but it remained thick and sat on top of his head messily.
Harry rubbed his hand down his face carefully, noting the sureness in the way him mouth now sat – a sureness that he had indeed noticed on the face of his brother and his father. Perhaps he had become too arrogant for his own good.
Harry sat down on the edge of his bed silently and got lost in his thoughts. It came as a surprise when someone pushed the door open – the creaking of the wood bringing Harry back to reality.
"Why are you sitting in the dark?"
Harry gazed at the vampire emotionlessly and shrugged – he hadn't even noticed the light go down. Vladimir, whose eyesight was obviously better in the dark than Harry's, surveyed him carefully.
"Something is bothering you." He observed, his accent familiar and strangely comforting to Harry's ears.
"Yeah…" Harry said distractedly.
Did Vladimir think he was arrogant? Maybe that was why there was still a distance between them even though they spent so much time together training. Perhaps Harry acted too much like him brother and that, Harry considered, would be enough to drive any sane person away.
"Am I arrogant?" He asked all of a sudden.
Vladimir stood extremely still but Harry could make out the frown of intrigue on his face in the dark.
"Yes." He replied just as abruptly.
Harry looked down in disappointment. Why had he not realised it before? He had become too arrogant for his own good. He knew he was clever and good at all the things he was given to do, but he should have stuck to his old methods of keeping his skills to himself. Instead he had stupidly let his family traits show through and had forced himself and his abilities into the faces of everyone he had met… what an idiot.
"The Dark Lord wants to see you."
Harry drew his head back up slowly and studied Vladimir's expression. The vampire was trying to remain impassive but Harry had been around the man for long enough to know when he was hiding something.
It wasn't good news. Why did Voldemort want to see him just now? He was never normally summoned on a weekday. Harry felt a nervous shiver go down his spine as he stood.
"Do you know what it's about?" Harry asked tiredly, keeping his eyes on Vladimir's face.
"He told me he wished to see you immediately. That was all." Vladimir replied, letting Harry pass.
The slow blink of the vampire's eyes allowed Harry some insight into the situation. Often, Vladimir's characteristics gave away more than they should have. The man did know what was going on but he seemed uncertain about it, that was for sure. Harry rarely saw the vampire act in such a way and although the indications were slight, they were still there.
Harry walked towards the Dark Lord's meeting chambers slowly and Vladimir's footsteps did not follow.
"You're a liar." Harry said quietly and without anger.
There was no response but he knew Vladimir had heard him.
Oooooooooo
"I'm not pleased."
The way Voldemort spoke sent a coldness down Harry's spine. He didn't reply and stood up as straight as he could while the man circled him impatiently.
"Three of my most trusted followers have come to me these last two weeks telling me how displeased they are with you and your conduct. Three! You're supposed to be making this worthwhile for me and instead you're using my hospitality and time to act up like a fool!"
Harry opened his mouth to argue but Voldemort stopped him.
"The next words that come out of your mouth had better be an apology, boy, or I'll blast you into tiny pieces right now."
Harry closed his mouth defiantly. He wouldn't apologise for his actions. Perhaps they had been wrong, but the reasoning behind them wasn't unjustified. The Dark Lord had not been giving him time as he had said, and the only hospitality he had been shown was the fact that he had a bed to sleep in at night. He was worked hard for everything he received and was not prepared to accept the Dark Lord's complaints on the matter. Voldemort had tested him to the extreme and every time he had finished his work on time, or had done the specified training as he had been ordered.
"I see. Well, that says it all, doesn't it." Voldemort said moving into Harry's personal space.
"I'm not going to apologise." Harry said flatly, holding the dark red gaze as best as he could.
"Someone who does not follow the rules is worth very little to me, I told you this when you first arrived. If you will not offer me more respect then I do not want you here."
Harry swallowed slowly. He knew what was expected of him – Voldemort wanted him to kneel before him. Sweating slightly, Harry thought through his next move. If he bowed he would be allowed back into the fray and given a second chance, but he would have shown the Dark Lord that he was prepared to follow his every order… like a Death Eater. He wouldn't do that. Harry knew he couldn't continue acting as a complete subordinate.
But Harry knew that if he didn't bow he would be killed. No doubt in the matter. Fingering his wand, he knew that retaliation wasn't an option. He was nowhere near the level of combat that would allow him to fight Voldemort. His only hope was that his injuries would allow him time to get to his supply of potions and repair himself before he expired completely.
Harry lifted his head slightly and spoke evenly.
"I am prepared to kill for you, I told you that before honestly and sincerely,"
Voldemort nodded slowly, understanding where this was leading.
"I want to work hard for you and I have the determination, but I will not be treated as if I am as hopeless as you all seem to think I am. I am sorry for acting so arrogantly these last few days but my actions were justified and I believe that if I were confronted with similar situations again, I would act exactly the same way."
Harry brushed his hand through his hair, getting rather nervous about what he was about to say but continuing with his speech in a quieter voice,
"I know I probably don't deserve a high level of respect… but I at deserve at least politeness. Your 'trusted followers' probably didn't tell you how rude they were being to me when I acted out,"
Harry met Voldemort's gaze solidly once more and took a deep breath,
"I won't kneel before you."
The words stretched out for what felt like an eternity and Harry wondered which breath would be his last as Voldemort took in his words.
"I see."
Perhaps Harry was imagining it but he was sure he picked up on some disappointment in Voldemort's voice.
The movement was so sudden Harry had no chance of dodging it. The sudden shock of the sharp pain almost sent him to his knees but he remained upright and staggered back a step, away from where Voldemort stood with the bloodied dagger still in his hands. It felt like his chest was on fire and he struggled to breathe properly.
Finding the wound at the side of his ribs Harry covered it quickly with his hand, struggling to operate his arms as his body grew weaker.
"You're sentiments were admirable, Harry," Voldemort said quietly, giving him a last look and walking to the door, "But your disrespect is a weakness in my eyes… and I can't abide weakness."
With that he left the room and Harry fell against the table, leaning on it heavily and leaving a bloody handprint on the fine wood. His ears were pounding and stars were beginning to show before his eyes but he focussed on the doorway and staggered towards it.
Forcing himself to stay upright and stumbling along the corridor he observed the walls swing wildly from side to side and the world had flickered back and forth between black and white and colour. Getting back to his room felt like it had taken so much longer than it actually had.
Tears running from his eyes and barely hanging on to consciousness Harry clumsily flipped open his potions chest and fumbled his way through the various jars and pots that he had gradually created during his time here.
He knew exactly what he was looking for but his vision was blurring and he was sinking closer and closer to the floor. He knew they were in here! His frustration gave him a second wind and he tossed all the jars out on to the floor – relief rushing through him as he spotted the salve he needed.
Removing his hands from the wound for a second Harry felt the flow of liquid down his robes and forced his body to work through the shock and horror of realisation at how much blood he was losing. He grabbed a handful of the dark green salve he had created to mend open wounds and hoped that this batch was strong enough to see him through.
Smothering the wound with the thick cream he had to look away as the sight of the cream mixing with the blood made him nauseous. Instead he focussed on the next bottle and pulled off the lid with his teeth before choking down as much as he could manage.
This potion should hopefully repair whatever internal damage had been done. He uncorked a further bottle and took a little sip of that too, hoping that mixing the two potions wouldn't cause any adverse effects. This one was better at repairing lung tissue and he occasionally had to use it when Vladimir aimed too hard a kick at his ribs.
Bracing himself on his hands and his knees and fighting back the shivering and the cold sweats Harry closed his eyes, wondering if the burning he felt at his side was a good thing or a bad thing.
After what felt like an eternity Harry opened his eyes and found that at some point he had sunk down to the floor. Pulling himself back upright slowly, he checked his side gingerly and realised that his body co-ordination had come back to him without his realising. The area where the knife had entered had stopped bleeding, and most of the salve had gone.
Cautiously touching his chest he found that the wound had repaired itself! And judging by the ease at which he could now breath, his other potions had done the trick too! Grabbing a bottle of blood-replenishing potion and drinking most of it, Harry sat on his knees and thanked whatever guardian angel was out there for him.
All of a sudden Harry was hit with a realisation of what had occurred and he felt a sudden anger towards the situation rush through his veins. Perhaps he had drank too much of the blood-replenishing potion, as he felt energised with a new lease of life and threw himself irrationally out of the door and up the corridor once more. He knew he was being ridiculous and the best thing he could do right now was hope to escape, but the only thing on his mind was confrontation.
The area was empty but Harry knew where to go. He followed the sound of voices to another of Voldemort's more favoured rooms and convinced himself very quickly that this was the right thing to do.
"…still think you should have reconsidered-"
Harry cut Vladimir off as he threw the door open angrily – it bounced off the doorframe with a bang, announcing his presence quite dramatically. He marched over to where Voldemort sat with his glass in his hand. Harry had never seen surprise etched on Voldemort's face quite like that minute and he vowed to remember it as long as he could… even if he only lived another two minutes.
"You stabbed me!! You fucking stabbed me!" Harry howled angrily, the raw energy surrounding him once more as he advanced on Voldemort, who had stood up rapidly.
He knew he must have looked ridiculous as his robes were covered in his own blood and his hair was mussed up with sweat but he didn't care. His necklace pulsed with energy and heated his chest. Drawing his anger around him along with how incredulous he felt about the whole situation he threw a spell at the Dark Lord without even caring what it was. The man moved quickly and instead the large chair he had been sitting in shattered into hundred of pieces.
Voldemort did not draw his wand and instead just watched Harry in surprise, as he destroyed several more objects in the room and was tackled to the ground by Vladimir.
"Get off me you bastard!" Harry yelled, kicking and punching irrationally at the larger man battling to keep him down, "You knew! You fucking told him about our argument and you knew he was going to kill me!!!"
Although he was the larger of the two, Vladimir still struggled to control Harry's violent form.
"Calm down!" Vladimir growled, pinning down an arm as the other one broke free.
"I won't! I hate you, you have no idea! I'm not letting- get the hell OFF me! Let me go-!"
Harry put his training to good use and all his power went behind each kick and punch as he had been taught. This made it harder for the vampire to keep him down and he knew it.
"I said calm down!" Vladimir ordered.
This sent Harry over the edge.
"Don't tell me what to do!"
With an explosion of energy out-with his control he threw himself upwards to his feet – a large amount of his energy leaving him at once in a violent flash of green that lit up the whole room. Vladimir was thrown back against the wall and hit it hard, sliding to the floor unconscious and unmoving. Harry didn't even notice this at first and instead sank to his knees, hit by a sudden exhaustion.
A wand was pressed against the back of his neck and he closed his eyes in acceptance. He was beyond caring anymore. The only person he had begun to trust had allowed him to walk to his death without even intervening or warning him. He didn't have enough energy to retaliate and was prepared for the consequences of bursting into the room as he had.
The thought of what he had just done seemed so ridiculous and he couldn't help but smile like a fool.
"It seems I have underestimated you again, Harry." Voldemort said quietly.
Harry didn't reply.
"How did you find the potions to mend your wound? I know for a fact that Severus did not give them to you. In fact I'm not even sure he has a potion for repairing wounds such as yours."
"I made them myself." Harry said gently, keeping his eyes closed.
"You did?… I see, well done. It appears they have worked quite well. But what did you hope to achieve by bursting in here and destroying my favourite chair?"
"I don't know." Harry said honestly, "I let my emotions control my actions."
"That is not always wise."
"I know."
A silence lay between them both for several seconds. Vladimir did not move.
"Your emotions were obviously strong. What did you feel?" Voldemort asked sounding genuinely interested.
"I don't know…" Harry considered, "Betrayed. Angry. Hurt."
He stopped and thought about his feelings, unafraid of letting Voldemort know. He felt strangely calm throughout.
"You were supposed to help me, but you were never there." Harry said, realising how young he felt as he said this.
The wand slowly left Harry's neck and Voldemort appeared down beside him. Instead of the dangerous red eyes, Harry met with the cold blue gaze of Tom Riddle.
"You stabbed me." Harry said quietly, the high emotions of the last half hour overtaking him as a tear ran down his face.
He had almost died. And he hadn't even seen his fourteenth birthday yet. Harry supposed he had always had to look out for himself, but the fact that no-one at all had been there to help him or had even cared at all, had secretly shaken him to the core. He was used to being alone, but that didn't mean he always had to like it.
He expected to be laughed at or told to leave but the last thing he expected was a warm hand wiping the tear from his face gently.
"You must understand that I can't have rebels among my followers, Harry, and you are one of the few people I know who would happily confront my decisions if you didn't like them. In many ways this is good, but I can't let others think that they can do this too. I would have a rebellion on my hands."
Harry nodded slowly, too tired to care.
"Are you going to get rid of me?" Harry asked, keeping his eyes on the ground.
"Perhaps… I could give you another chance."
Tom Riddle himself seemed unsure as he spoke, but Harry brought his sad gaze back upwards hopefully.
"But only if we find a compromise," Tom added sternly, "You must agree to bow before me in the presence of my Death Eaters."
Harry considered this, enjoying the feeling of Tom Riddle's hand as it ran through his hair. His father had never brushed a hand through it... he was lucky if his father even spoke to him most days.
"I'll do that. But only if you agree to spend more time teaching me." Harry said finally.
"I don't like how you seem to be taking control of this conversation …" Tom mused, "But judging by you actions a minute ago, you may have just reached an acceptable level for me to guide. Your power is in no doubt, it is merely your control."
Harry glanced over to where Vladimir still lay and felt a tinge of guilt.
"What exactly did I do?" He asked worriedly.
"You sent the killing curse at him." Tom chuckled, "It would appear you were true to your word – you are prepared to kill people who get in your way."
"Is he dead?" Harry asked, the worry once more evident in his voice.
Tom Riddle's hand rested comfortingly on Harry's neck as he replied. Harry studied the movement more than he probably should have done and it seemed as if the Dark Lord was drawing a certain amount of peacefulness from the movement too.
"No, if he had been a normal man then certainly, you would have killed him. But he is a vampire, Harry, and you should know that he is immune to the killing curse."
"He doesn't look very immune at the moment…" Harry observed, green eyes searching for movement.
"Well, that was quite a knock on the head you gave him." Riddle replied just as smoothly, eyes glancing over at the comatose vampire.
"I feel… strange." Harry admitted after a few moments silence, moving his fingers carefully.
"Good…" Riddle replied with a mysterious smile, "That is to be expected after performing your first true dark spell."
Harry stretched his shoulders out too. It was a bizarre feeling. Similar to a pain numbing potion but enough to make him feel the tiniest bit disorientated. There was a cool rushing in his bloodstream that couldn't still be blamed on the blood replenishing potion. It had to be something else.
It felt good.
"I'm glad we sorted this out." Riddle said matter-of-factly as he stood up and made for the door.
Harry gave a small nod and his brighter than normal eyes returned to Vladimir who had just let out a small moan.
"Make sure your bags are packed and you're ready to travel at seven thirty sharp tomorrow."
"What?" Harry asked suddenly.
"You heard me. Make sure he gets the message too." Riddle said with a nod towards Vladimir.
Did Harry really want to be around when the vampire woke up? Not really. Not really at all.
"Him?…" Harry repeated worriedly.
"Indeed, him."
When Harry turned back to the doorway, Tom Riddle had disappeared and Voldemort stood once more in his place. With a small smirk to himself, the Dark Lord swept from the room leaving Harry and his blood soaked shirt with the rapidly awakening vampire.
"Shit…" Harry muttered to himself.
The room was once more in pieces and he was especially glad that the Dark Lord had agreed to teach now him because if he carried on losing control like this then who knew what would happen?
Deciding he'd be better off leaving a note next to Vladimir for when he awoke, Harry pulled himself to his feet. In the split second it took for him to realise that the previously unconscious vampire had disappeared from his space, he had time to half whirl around in panic before a large arm clamped around his neck, cutting off his airway temporarily.
"I don't like to bleed." Vladimir informed Harry calmly, his dangerously cold voice making Harry struggle against the stranglehold all the faster.
"I – I didn't, I-" Harry struggled to speak.
He coughed and gasped in what little air he could gather, pulling against the strong arm that did not budge.
"I don't care what the Dark Lord says, I'm going to watch you suffocate right here, right now." Vladimir whispered in Harry's ear.
Harry felt his vision slipping as he fought to free himself. The stars from earlier were back and his chest was burning from the lack of air.
"You destroyed his things yet are still alive… I do not understand that man sometimes…" Vladimir mused, as if this were a casual conversation.
Harry gasped painfully, unable to gather any further air and panicked, kicking out with his legs which were almost raised completely off the ground.
"And I do not understand you either. I had almost certainly decided that I didn't like you, but after our conversation earlier I was reconsidering… I thought that perhaps I had misjudged you…"
The world had begun to tilt away from under his control and Vladimir's voice was stretching further and further away. Harry gave a last half-hearted attempt at freeing himself before his world started getting gradually darker at the edges.
And then he was released and air rushed back into his lungs at the same speed at which the floor rushed up to his face. Landing in an undignified heap and gasping for air, Harry's body accepted all the oxygen it could find and he lay there panting for several moments. His poor body had had it all tonight.
"Much to my dismay I find myself growing to enjoy your presense… I hope this is just a passing phase." Vladimir said almost to himself, stepping over Harry and not sparing him a second glance as he strode from the room, one hand rubbing the back of his bloodied head carefully.
What good news, Harry thought wryly, checking to see if his neck had been permanently damaged by the vampire's strong grip. What the hell did he do to people he didn't like? And Vladimir could be late for the half seven deadline for all he cared… in fact, maybe it would be better if the vampire missed the trip completely.
As he limped from the room Harry felt a tinge of happiness at the way the night had turned out. He was going somewhere new… and the Dark Lord had agreed to help him train! And all it had taken was a little bit of violence. No pain, no gain.
Ooooooooooooooo
To answer a few questions,
I think I've decided to make this a non-slash piece. The story has been around for long enough for there to be readers who would probably be uncomfortable with it for me to suddenly throw in a slash aspect and I don't feel it would be particularly necessary to the story. Sorry to the slash fans…I like the idea of Harry being gay here just because I could work in more angst but again his sexuality wouldn't really make a difference storyline-wise. I may slip in a few suggestions of his preference but nothing remotely graphic or important.
The technicalities of Voldemort's history I don't plan on getting into too deeply. The Godric's Hollow attack where Harry was marked etc etc I haven't quite decided whether to go into detail here or not, but I like to let the readers make of it what they will. There are however, some parts that I am planning on explaining at a later stage so hang on in there! ;)
Those were the main issues guys but most things I hope to explain. I hope the story is still keeping pace and you're still enjoying it. I'm thinking a slight age jump is in order for the next chapter to speed things up a bit.
Again, the reviews are ace guys, thanks for them all. I do like reading them and will hopefully be back with the next chapter soon!! x