HEY! EVERYONE READ THIS! IT"S IMPORTANT!

ok, so is giving me a really hard time updating chapter 15. so the only thing i could see to do was start a Part Two as the second story on my profile.

i don't even know if doc manager will give an alert on this, but if it does, than Story Alert part 2 to keep up. i'm really sorry guys!

Hey, guys! Told you I'd update soon! Anyways thanks to all of you who reviewed and gave me ideas. Most of you wanted to kill of one of Harry's friends, which I can't do, I'll need them later.

Amanda2308: Voldemort never told Harry not to tell anyone, or if he did than I'm sorry, I guess I need to go back and read this so I don't keep making mistakes. Anyway, no Harry didn't break the Vow.

nickyx3: I know, I know. I Obliviated them because it's just not possible for them to know. Too much of a risk that one of them would make a slip and tell someone. Also, Voldemort wants Harry to feel alienated. So I'm sorry, but Harry and Co. are going through a rough time right now, it has to happen that way.

EmeraldWings90: I wouldn't say he'll be hostile toward Dumbledore; it'll be more like his view of him from Deathly Hallows. And as for the light pushing him, I'm not saying they were wrong to do it, but they were pushing him. Or more the situation was. He's the Boy Who Lived, the Chosen One, no one really asked what Harry thought about any of it, they just expected him to do everything. So can you see how he might feel pressured or like he was pushed into doing things?

A special thanks to AzraelLilith for the awesome review and the inspiration for this chapter!

I'm super psyched for this chapter guys, really. I couldn't wait to write it! I hope you like it!

Disclaimer: this is my last disclaimer, it's entailed. I don't own Harry Potter.

Warning: minor character death

Harry was laying on top his bed, his back pressed against the mattress, his legs pulled up, his arm hanging over the side. He hated his life. He tried to do the right thing and it ended up getting Hermione tortured and all of his friends Obliviated. He sighed. Why do I even try? All that happens is that he gets someone hurt.

It's my fault; I hadn't told them Hermione would've been fine right now. I wouldn't have to lie to them more to cover everything up.

He'd been forced to tell his friends he didn't remember what happened. He told them he had no idea why Hermione felt like she'd been tortured or why there was a hole in the middle of the road. And he felt terrible.

His scar had been throbbing since that morning and Harry was dreading having to face Voldemort. He could feel Voldemort's emotions much more clearly since making the Blood Vow and he'd gotten used to the dark feeling lingering in the back of his mind.

What scared him was that he didn't just feel pain and sense the emotion anymore. He actually felt it. When Voldemort was angry it took all of his will not to smash something against the wall. When he was happy it was hard not to laugh out loud. This terrified him. Voldemort was controlling him without even trying to!

Why was he so weak? He'd tried Occlumency but found it was nearly impossible to block Voldemort's emotions out. Voldemort had taken that stupid locket off him when the Order came to "rescue" him. Not that it did any bloody good. Voldemort had all the access to Harry he could possibly want.

Harry doubted that the Order knew how easily Voldemort could just pop in and grab him. And Harry wouldn't put it past him to do just that. Just to spite the Order.

I hate my life. I hate my life. I hate my life.

Harry felt another swell of rage burn through him and tried to bite down on it. This was worse than most of the attacks. Harry sat up and put his head in his hands, taking deep breaths and counting to ten. It did absolutely nothing.

He couldn't take this anymore! He grabbed the picture frame from the bedside table. It was the photo of Remus, Sirius, Peter Pettigrew, and his father. He chucked it at the opposite wall and watched as it shattered.

"Why did you have to join the freaking Order!" he screamed. Harry realized he was crying. He hastily wiped the tears away and walked across the room to pick up the mess he'd made.

I make a mess of everything. He thought bitterly.

He picked up a piece of broken glass. It cut him. "Perfect! Just damn fucking perfect!" he growled as he wiped his bleeding hand on his jeans. He sat against the wall with his head in his hands.

That's how Mrs. Weasley found him.

Molly Weasley was bustling around in the kitchen cooking dinner when she heard the crash and yell directly above her head. That was Harry's room. Harry! She flew up the stairs. The door flung open with a flick of her wand and she entered with her wand raised. . .

To find Harry sitting against the wall with his head in his hands, quiet sobs shaking his thin frame. Glass was littered around the floor at his feet and Molly saw that his hand was bleeding. She was confused until she saw the broken picture frame lying next to him.

She silently walked over and leaned down next to him, pulling the crying boy into a tight hug. He didn't react at first, than he slowly hugged her back. She didn't know what any of this was about, and frankly she didn't care. Harry was family, and he needed to know he wasn't alone. He needed someone to show him.

Harry was a strong person. But he was still a child. A child that had been through too much. He'd lost so many people he cared about, and blamed it on himself. He'd been kidnapped, tortured, and observed as if he was an interesting specimen under a microscope (A/N: do wizards use microscopes?) for years.

Harry slowly stopped crying and pulled away from Mrs. Weasley, embarrassed. He'd completely lost it. Mrs. Weasley looked at him sympathetically.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

He nodded, rubbing his eyes tiredly. Why did Voldemort have to mess with his emotions?

"You look tired, hon. You should go to bed." Mrs. Weasley helped him up and pushed him gently toward the bed. He nodded and sat down on the bed.

As Molly turned to leave, she heard a quiet, "Thank You."

She turned back and smiled softly at him. "Of course, Harry."

As she left all Harry could think was, "I'm a terrible person for betraying them."

Him exhaustion finally caught up with him and Harry fell into a troubled sleep.

Harry wasn't sure what made him wake. He didn't think he'd had a nightmare. So what was it? Harry slipped out of bed quietly and grabbed his wand from the bedside table. He walked across the floor, wincing every time the old house creaked. As he closed the door behind him he considered using Lumos but decided against it.

He crept down the hallway. suddenly a hand shot out and covered his mouth; another hand pulled him into a room. He struggled until a familiar voice muttered in his ear. "Will you stop struggling, Potter? It's me."

Harry went still and the person let go of him. he turned and glared at the person. "What the hell, Snape?"

"That would be Professor Snape to you, Potter. And the Dark Lord would like to see you." Harry paled considerably. At least he's smart enough to realize he's in trouble. Snape thought.

"Fine. Hold on, I don't want to face Voldemort in my night clothes." Harry muttered and left for his room. He struggled into a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, throwing his black Hogwarts robe over it.

He met Snape outside and they apparated straight into Malfoy Manor's parlor. Oh hell, this is just like my nightmare. Harry thought as he saw Voldemort throw himself out of an armchair and stalk toward them.

Snape bowed, pulling Harry with him—he'd been frozen in fear—and muttered, "My Lord."

Voldemort didn't spare him a glance. He was glaring at Harry as he growled, "You may go, Severus. Wait outside." Snape nodded and with one last hesitant glance at Harry, he left.

"Get up." Voldemort's voice was suddenly deadly calm, and that made Harry even more nervous. He stood warily, his eyes on his feet. He couldn't look Voldemort in the eye. It felt like a small victory toward Voldemort.

Voldemort stalked forward and grabbed Harry's chin, forcing his head up. Harry hesitantly met Voldemort's eyes and flinched. He'd never seen Voldemort look more angry, not even when he'd escaped the graveyard in his fourth year.

Voldemort studied Harry's face. He noticed that all the color was gone from his face and he was unable to meet his gaze for more than a moment. Though he tried to hide it, he was petrified. He was trembling and his body tense.

"You should not have told your friends, Harry." His blazing crimson eyes met startled green ones and held them there. Harry—if possible—got even paler and he trembled more violently.

Harry's knees buckled and he collapsed, Voldemort did nothing to stop him. his knees hit the floor hard and Harry couldn't help the small whimper that escaped his lips. He stayed on the floor, not that he had much choice. He felt Voldemort's will keeping him on the ground, kneeling at his feet.

He watched through his fringe of black hair as Voldemort paced next to him. "What am I to do, Harry, if I cannot trust you to keep secrets to yourself? You understand you must be punished, don't you?"

He heard himself mumble, "Yes, Master."

"I think it is time you learn what it is to be my servant, Harry."

Harry looked up at Voldemort.

He was smiling.

He ordered Harry to get up and led him down a staircase to the cellar. Harry shivered as memories attacked him. They entered the pitch black room and Voldemort shut the door behind him.

"Lumos."Voldemort muttered, casting an eerie bluish-white light around the damp cellar.

In the middle or the room were two chairs. In those two chair figures slumped against them, chains holding them to it. There was a person standing behind them, hidden in shadow.

Harry gasped as he recognized one of the figures slumped in the chair. His arms and hands were covered in old burn scars. His face was bloody. He was broad-shouldered with pale skin and a sprinkle of freckles across his nose . . . and fiery red hair.

"Charlie!" Harry whispered. He was beaten and bruised, but it was definitely him. The oldest Weasley boy. He'd met him last year. Charlie jerked awake, he'd been unconscious.

"Harry! What are you doing here?" his voice was a weak croak.

Harry couldn't answer. Voldemort wouldn't let him. he pursed his lips and turned to look at the other, much smaller figure in the other chair.

It was a little girl. She appeared to be unharmed, save for a bruise on her cheek in the vague shape of a hand. She was clearly a muggle. She had ash blonde hair and wide, terrified brown eyes. She couldn't be more than six.

He turned back to Voldemort, horrified.

"I am giving you a choice, Harry. In front of you is an acquaintance or yours, Charles Weasley, I believe he prefers Charlie. Also in front of you is a muggle child. Your choice is this; you must kill one of them of your own free will. If you do not, I will force you to kill them both. Whoever you choose to kill will be guaranteed a quick death with the Killing Curse—yes, you will use the Killing Curse, Harry—and the other may go free. However if you refuse to kill one of them of your own accord, you will torture both of them until they die."

"Th-that's sick! I-I can't kill them! Charlie is protected by the Vow, he's a Weasley. The little girl is to! She's a muggle!" Harry yelled.

"Our agreement was that I wouldn't kill a Weasley, and I won't. You would kill him Harry, not me."

"On your orders!"

"But I would not be personally harming him. Neither would one of my true servants. You are loyal to me only because of the Vow. You are a terrible negotiator, Harry."

"But the little girl is a muggle! She can't die because of you or your Death Eaters!" Harry argued.

"The agreement was that muggles would not be killed for sport. She would not die for sport." Voldemort explained calmly.

"You've been playing me." Harry growled.

"Of course, Harry." Voldemort smiled. "So, Harry, what'll it be? Weasley or the muggle? Or will you kill them both slowly, painfully."

He glanced pleadingly at Voldemort, who laughed. Harry turned to Charlie and the little girl.

"Ah, but Harry, there is one more choice." Voldemort murmured into his ear.

"What is it?" Harry snapped without turning around.

The person standing behind them stepped into the light. It was Bellatrix Lestrange.

"Kill Bellatrix. You hate her, don't you? She's tortured and killed hundreds of innocents. She killed your Godfather, she deserves it." Voldemort whispered.

Harry was shaking violently. He did hate Bellatrix Lestrange. It was her fault Sirius was dead. He hated her with every fiber of his being. But he couldn't kill her in cold blood.

"I can't." he mumbled. He felt tears roll down his face. He didn't care enough to wipe them away.

"You can, Harry. I can feel how much you loathe her. And you would be saving innocents. Why would you kill innocents when someone who deserves to die is standing in front of them? I am being merciful, Harry. Kill her; she deserves it for what she did to you."

Bellatrix watched her master whisper things to Potter, not bothering to listen. She wasn't worried. Her master wouldn't let anything happen to his most faithful servant. She noticed the boy was shaking and crying, his eyes darting between her and the filth tied to the chairs behind her.

But she was surprised to see the boy raise his wand and point it at her, but he wasn't looking at her. He dropped it back to his side after a moment. The weakling. What was her master doing? He seemed to be egging Potter on. What was going on? Her master wouldn't have the boy kill her!

Potter finally looked her in the eye and Bellatrix froze. His emerald eyes were cold and blank. His arm was steady as he raised his wand and growled the two words that she'd never expected to come out of Harry Potter's mouth.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Harry watched as the green jet of light shot from the tip of his wand and his Bellatrix in the chest. She crumpled. Charlie was looking at him in horror. The little muggle girl looked confused but terrified.

"Good, Harry. How did it feel?"

"I didn't feel anything." Harry said quietly. He felt no pleasure at killing Bellatrix, but no remorse either. He felt empty.

"That's alright. It takes time to learn to enjoy it." Voldemort said. He hid the happiness well, but Harry could still feel it. It didn't change the emptiness, it was swallowed by it. Harry felt dead.

"Kill the other two."

Harry's head shot up. "What?"

"Kill the other two. They have seen too much. Weasley would tell the Order and the girl is scarred. It would be a mercy to kill her." Voldemort said matter-of-factly.

"No," Harry muttered.

"Do I have to make you, Harry?" the danger in his tone was clear. "You can kill them quickly or they can be tortured to death. You felt nothing when you killed Bellatrix. This will be the same."

"No, it won't." Harry said. "They're innocent."

Harry felt a hand on his shoulder and he flinched.

"Why doesn't my scar hurt anymore?" Harry asked suddenly.

"I am no longer a danger to you." Voldemort said simply. "Stop delaying things, Harry. Kill them."

Harry felt the command wash over him. Not enough to make him listen, more of a warning.

Harry raised his wand shakily, pointing at Charlie. "I'm so sorry, Charlie." He whispered. Charlie didn't look scared, he looked pityingly at Harry. He didn't know exactly what was going on, but he knew Harry was being forced to kill him. Harry was being merciful, making sure it was quick.

"It's ok, Harry."

Harry looked him in the eye, and saw that Charlie really did forgive him.

"Avada Kedavra!" he muttered. Charlie slumped in his chair. He could've been asleep. He'd closed his eyes the moment before Harry spoke the spell.

"Avada Kedavra!" he heard from behind him. he turned away as Voldemort killed the girl. He couldn't watch that.

"I hate you." Harry muttered to Voldemort.

Voldemort only smiled.

"It will get easier. You'll get to the point where you don't care. I am only trying to help you, Harry. It is better to get your first kill over with."

"I think I'm going to be sick." Harry mumbled.

Voldemort left him sitting on the floor taking deep breaths, trying not to cry or be sick.

Eventually Snape came into the cellar.

He saw Harry sitting on the floor trying not to have a panic attack, he was almost hyperventilating. He saw the dead body of Bellatrix Lestrange on the floor. As well as the bodies or Charlie Weasley and the muggle girl.

He sighed. "Potter, you need to calm down. Give me your wand."

Harry looked up. "Why?"

"I need to erase the evidence that you used an Unforgivable."

Harry handed over his wand.

"Deletrius!" Snape muttered.

"Come on, Potter. Let's get you home."

Wow, that was long! What did you guys think? Sorry I killed off Bellatrix, but she seemed a likely candidate for Harry to kill willingly. I'm sorry I killed Charlie! I needed someone Harry knew and had a connection to, so Harry would feel the guilt later. Poor little girl. So yeah, I killed a lot of people.

Review and thanks to everyone who reviewed. Again, thanks to AzraelLilith for the inspiration for this chapter.

I got Deletrius from wikipedia.

Until next time.

-Ginny