Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to HP.

AN: A surprising (to me at least) number of people expressed concern or even distress at the change to Harry's eyes last chapter. Because it has been asked, yes it has something to do with the story, and no I will not be changing them back. I am sorry if that disappoints too many of you, and if you feel that you can't continue to read my story, then I will of course understand. But fair warning, if you got upset about what happened to his eyes, then this chapter is probably going to upset you just as much. Also, warning to all readers, this chapter is the first in my opinion to actually earn the M rating that I have given to this story, so if you are going to be offended by that, best to stop now. Please everyone enjoy the chapter and of course, reviews are always appreciated.

He stepped through the front door, his features twisted in disgust; to think that this pathetic hovel was the home of his most hated enemy. He hoped his Death Eaters had already subdued Potter and saved him the trouble, because he wanted to be away from this disgusting place as soon as possible.

Bellatrix met him as he entered and led him to the sitting room, where Lucius and the others stood around three terrified huddled forms. Lucius bowed deeply before him.

"My Lord," he said in his most sycophantic tone, "your plan worked perfectly, without the blood wards in place -"

"Enough of your boot licking Lucius," Lord Voldemort interrupted. "Now tell me, where is Potter?"

Lucious looked positively terrified, and Voldemort's slit-like eyes narrowed; this did not bode well.

"Well you see my Lord, after we breached the wards, we instantly moved on the boy's room. Mulciber, Goyle, and myself entered to apprehend him. Potter was present, but there was another with him, an old man."

"Dumbledore," Voldemort growled.

"No my Lord," Lucius said after the last explosion had quieted, "it was not the headmaster. I did not recognize him whoever he was. But the moment that we entered he waved at us and disapparated with the boy in tow."

"So you have failed me once again Lucius," Voldemort said, his voice dangerously quiet, "I am most…displeased." Lucius went down to one knee and bowed his head, speaking quickly in an effort to save his skin.

"Please my Lord, there was nothing that could be done. Potter obviously knew that we were coming somehow." He held out his hand, gesturing to the cowering forms behind him. "These are the boy's relatives, the ones that we used to break the blood magic. They must have had a change of heart and warned the boy that we were coming."

"Now see here, we did nothing of the sor -" Vernon Dursley shouted until Lucius spun and delivered a vicious backhand to his face, cutting him off.

"Silence you insignificant muggle worm," he snarled, "you do not deserve to speak to our master."

Voldemort was nearly shaking with fury, but he knew that there was no time for him to vent his rage right now. That old fool Dumbledore could not have missed the destruction of the wards he had enacted on this place, and would likely be here soon with his pathetic Order in tow. The time was not yet right for that battle, so he needed to move quickly in order to stay one step ahead.

"We are leaving – now. I will deal with you when we return Lucius."

"Of course my Lord," Lucius replied, trying not to let his voice tremble.

"What of the filth, my Lord," Bellatrix asked hungrily, "shall I…dispose of them?"

"No," he answered quickly, "bring them. I will learn the truth from them…then you may have your fun my dear." Her smile was viscous.

"Thank you, my Lord. You are too kind."

"Please, no, we don't know anything!" Petunia cried desperately. Crabbe Sr. reached out a giant hand and grabbed her throat, cutting off any more pleas for mercy. Bellatrix laughed as the pitiful muggle began to turn blue from lack of oxygen.

"Release her Crabbe," she said after a moment. "You must be careful not to kill her - yet." His hand immediately eased off of her throat as he nodded his apologies to Voldemort's favored lieutenant. Voldemort smiled coldly; he always appreciated Bella's love for the finer things in life. He turned and exited the house, waiting as his Death Eaters followed him with the prisoners. As soon as the last wizard had exited the building, he brought his wand down in a vicious slashing motion, flinging a brightly colored spell back through the open doorway.

The house exploded, the spell ripping through the walls and firing chunks of debris out onto the front lawn, but Voldemort had already turned on the spot and vanished, his Death Eater's quickly following.

Moments later he reappeared, popping into existence on the front doorstep of Malfoy Manor and quickly strode inside knowing the others would not be far behind with the muggles. Sure enough, he was not even through the front door when he heard the tell-tale pops of the others arriving behind him. He proceed through the entrance hall and through several more rooms, the prisoner's being dragged just behind him, until he arrived at the Malfoy's grand dining room.

It was an enormous room, and not often used. Originally, it was designed as a place where the Malfoys, always a wealthy and influential family, could entertain the elite of pureblood society as well as the politician's of the day. Now it served as the Dark Lord's throne room.

Voldemort strode to the rear of the room, easing himself into the high-backed wooden chair that sat on a small dais as his Death Eaters deposited the terrified muggles before him. He smiled smoothly at them.

"Come now," he said reasonably, "there is no reason to be frightened. Merely answer my questions, and no harm will come to you. In fact, I will reward you; ask any of these fine wizards here, and they will tell you how generous Lord Voldemort can be to those who serve him well."

Vernon did not move, still apparently cowed by the blow Lucius had dealt him. But Petunia managed a small, weak nod.

"Excellent," Voldemort said, "now then, where is Harry Potter?"

Petunia shook her head again, eyes wide in terror as she whispered, "I don't know." Voldemort's snake like eyes narrowed in barely restrained fury.

"Do not lie to the Dark Lord, you muggle whore," Lucius shouted, nearly hysterical, "we know that you helped that damned boy escape! Now answer the question!" Lucius was literally shaking with rage and fear as he held his wand on the trembling woman. The youngest Dursley leapt to his feet to defend his mother, but was quickly subdued by the much larger Goyle, who wrapped a single beefy arm around the young man's neck and squeezed painfully.

"Leave her alone you fucking arsehole," he managed to choke out, "she doesn't know anything about Potter or anything else, so just…leave her the fuck alone!"

"More lies," Lucius snarled, bowing deeply to the motionless Voldemort, "don't worry my Lord, I will force the truth from them." He turned to Petunia Dursley once again and leveled his wand at her.

Horrified and infuriated at the abuse that was being heaped on his family, Dudley Dursley finally snapped, and any fear that he had felt was replaced by a white hot, righteous fury. His captor had made the serious mistake of thinking that holding him with only one arm was sufficient. In the case of a wizard, who rarely ever resorted to physical violence, preferring to settle their disputes with a wand, this might have been true. But it was a serious error when dealing with an angry, teenage, inter-school boxing champion.

Dudley brought his right arm forward and then slammed it back as hard as he possibly could, driving his elbow into Goyle's stomach and up into his diaphragm with the force of a freight train. The brutish man staggered back, clutching his stomach and trying his best to suck in oxygen. As soon as Dudley was free, and faster than any of the stunned Death Eaters could react, he whirled on Malfoy, his fist cocked and already soaring through the air.

"Crucio-"

The unforgivable was rudely interrupted by the impact of Dudley's fist with Malfoy's jaw. There was a loud, sickening crack followed by a spray of blood and teeth as Malfoy's head whipped around from the force of the blow. The pretentious blonde wizard slumped to the ground clutching his bleeding mouth as Dudley raised his fists into a ready position, glaring defiantly down the length of a dozen drawn wands as he stood guard over his now sobbing mother. Lucius slowly clambered to his feet, still spitting up mouthfuls of blood as he pointed his own wand at the muggle teen.

"Avada Kad-"

Yet another incomplete unforgivable as Lucius flew high threw the air, slamming to a bone-jarring halt as he hit the far wall. The other Death Eaters gaped in shock at Dudley for a moment before they noticed that Voldemort had finally risen from his throne, his wand raised.

"Do not presume," he said, his voice cold and menacing as he addressed his stunned followers, "to think that any of you can execute one of my prisoners without my order. No matter how badly they may have embarrassed you." Lucius struggled to his feet, leaning against the wall for support.

"For-forgive me my Lord," he managed to sputter despite a mouthful of blood.

"No amount of your pathetic posturing will cause me to forget your abysmal failure this night. I should have left you in Azkaban to rot. Get out of my sight Lucius, I will punish you later." Malfoy was trembling, trying vainly to disguise his fear as he muttered a small, "Yes, my Lord," before exiting the room, hand clutching his side. Voldemort did not give him another thought, and instead turned his attention back to the muggle boy who still stood with jaw clenched, ready to strike. With a cold smile and a casual flick of his wand, Dudley suddenly found himself rooted to the spot, unable to move.

"I am amused by your spirit boy," Voldemort chuckled, "truly I am. But you really must learn to show respect to your betters. Now, one of you will answer my question! Where is Harry Potter?"

Dudley was still unable to move, and Petunia appeared to be frozen in fear, but the question finally seemed to raise Vernon from his stupor.

"Now-now see here you," he shouted from his position on the floor, "we have no idea where that little freak is and we couldn't care less. We gave you what you asked for, now we want nothing to do with any of you, or your unnaturalness, so just leave us alone."

"Now then Mr. Dursley," Voldemort said, his eye's narrowing, "there is no need for that kind of rudeness. My Death Eaters inform me that an unknown man was present in your home this evening and helped Potter escape me. There is no other way that anyone could have known that we were coming on this night, so you must have warned Potter beforehand."

"Believe me," Vernon hissed, "I wouldn't be caught dead doing that boy a favor. He's a freak of nature, just like the rest of your lot. Since the day he came to my doorstep he has been a burden on my family; I should have drowned him the moment we got him."

Voldemort stalked forward slowly, his wand raised, until he towered over the still kneeling Dursely. His look was that of deepest loathing.

"So…I am a freak, am I Dursely?"

The elder Dursely was literally shaking with fear as he realized that in his hatred of his nephew, he had directly insulted the evil dark wizard who held him captive. Voldemort took a step back.

"As much as I despise Potter, he is at the very least a wizard. That is far more than you can claim you pathetic little muggle. You are no more than a bug to be squashed by Lord Voldemort on his rise to glory!"

Vernon flinched at this final shout, and the Death Eaters that encircled them cheered loudly. Voldemort smiled again, and if anything it was even more sinister than before.

"I think," he began, speaking loudly over the noise of his still cheering Death Eaters, "that it is time you learned your true place in this world Mr. Dursely." His wand came down in a vicious slash and pointed directly to Vernon's heart. The enormous man jerked once, his entire jaw clenching as he began to shake even more violently, and this time not from fear. He slowly began to diminish in size, his massive bulk shrinking further and further; his pale white skin darkening and hardening to a shell like substance. His eyes began to bulge weirdly out of his head, and his hair all receded into his skull, save for two thin strands that elongated and widened into two large antennae. Petunia fainted dead away, and Dudley wished he could as well, as they both saw their husband and father transfigured into a rather fat, six inch long cockroach. The Death Eaters were roaring with laughter as Voldemort watched his creation scurry about on the floor. He signaled for silence and his subjects responded at once.

"Do you see now muggle," he said coldly, "it is not I who am the freak…it is you. Your kind is nothing compared to us; you are a stain upon this world, and I intend to put you all in your proper place." He raised one booted foot and drove it home, smashing the giant cockroach into the expensive wooden paneling that comprised the Malfoy's floor and spilling yellow ichor in all directions. "Beneath my boot."

His Death Deater's cheered wildly for him, many of them praising his creativity in dealing with the muggle, while Bellatrix looked to be in an outright frenzy at the wanton depth of her master's cruelty. Dudley felt like being sick, but the spell which held him prevented him from even doing that. Voldemort waved his wand at the unconscious Petunia and she instantly jutted awake, only to begin screaming as she saw the pile of gore where her transfigured husband has once been. Another wave of his wand quickly cut her off mid scream.

"Sooner or later, you will tell me what I want to know," Voldemort said to her softly, "everyone does." Yet a third wand wave restored her voice, but she merely knelt on the floor crying, too overcome to say any more. Voldemort shrugged, "Have it your way. Crucio!" Her screams echoed throughout Malfoy Manor…and she screamed…and screamed…

Harry burst awake with a strangled gasp, clutching his scar, which felt as if it had been lit on fire. Attempting to get out of bed, he found himself tangled in the sheets and fell face first to the hard wooden floor of Ron's room at the Burrow, where he quickly vomited all over the floor. As soon as it could, his hand went straight back to his forehead; the pain did not seem to be dulling at all.

He screamed out in agony, rousing a sleepy Ron who nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of Harry's desperate cries. Rushing to his side, Ron knelt and shook the alternately sobbing and screaming Harry.

"Harry? Mate, come on, snap out of it? Is it You-Know –Who? Come on!" Finally realizing that this was far beyond him, he sprinted for the door, nearly tearing the old wood from its hinges as he ran into the hallway shouting "Mum!" at the top of his lungs.

Harry remained where he was, his hand still clutching his burning forehead. He gave another scream, but this one was different. While the others had contained a mixture of shock, horror, and pain, this was a more primal scream, like a wounded animal defending itself. A bright blue glow spilled out from underneath his hand as his scream continued. And just as quickly as it had begun, it was over.

The glow faded just as his scream died to nothing and his hand, which had previously been clutching his forehead in a death grip, fell with a thump to the floor, relaxed. His distorted features slowly resumed the look of a peaceful teenage boy enjoying a restful sleep. That was exactly how the Weasleys and Hermione found him moments later as they entered the room, flat on his back and snoring contentedly.

Mrs. Weasley, who was still pulling closed the knot on her dressing gown, hurried to the prone Harry, examining him for injuries. Mr. Weasley meanwhile had entered with wand drawn, eyes darting to and fro as he searched for signs of any intruder.

"I'm telling you Dad, there was no one here," Ron said as he entered right behind his father.

"You can never be too careful son," Mr. Weasley replied, "not in these times, and especially not with Harry."

Ron nodded his understanding as they both joined the others gathered around the prone figure.

"Is he alright Mum?" Ginny asked nervously as her mother examined the now peaceful Harry.

"I don't know Ginny," Mrs. Weasley replied uncertainly, "I don't see anything wrong with him. But those screams…"

"He must have dreamed about You-Know-Who," Hermione whispered. "You remember last year don't you? With the visions?"

Suddenly Ginny gasped and her hands flew to her mouth.

"What is it Ginny," her mother asked quickly as she turned to her and began to examine her as well, "is something wrong?"

Ginny shook her head quickly and pointed to the sleeping Harry.

"Look," she whispered, her voice shaking, "look at his scar."

They all turned again to Harry, eyes automatically looking to his trademark scar that had made him known throughout the wizarding world. It was gone. Gone was the lightning bolt scar that marked his encounter with Voldemort nearly 15 years ago, and that had plagued him constantly since his return. In its place was smooth, clear skin. At the moment, the bright pink color of new skin made the former outline easily recognizable, but even that would fade with time.

The entire family sat stunned, staring at the young man that had become as much a member of their family as any of them. Harry did not awaken, smiling slightly in his sleep as he fidgeted slightly.

And somewhere far away, deep inside of Malfoy Manor, Lord Voldemort was screaming…