I disavow all rights to copyrighted material.

My Heart Burns

Chapter VIII: I Love the Way You Lie

SsSsS

Maybe, just maybe, there is no purpose in life. But if you linger a while longer in this world, you might discover something of value in it, like how you discovered that flower. Or, how I discovered you.

SsSsS

It was out of his hands. All of it. The world was delving into some new kind of chaos, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Dumbledore had seen to Lupin's funeral. There wasn't much to see to. The man had no family. No one was left in his life to console, really. Old friends were either dead or criminals. Or both. There were some, the Weasleys, Alastor Moody, and a few others who would miss Remus Lupin.

Upon learning of his death from Severus, Dumbledore had wept. He'd wept for another life gone, taken before his time. He wept for the one responsible. Dumbledore wept for Harry Potter.

It truly was a sad day, when the Ministry took Harry's guardianship from Albus and gave it over to Lucius Malfoy.

Dumbledore wept. For everyone.

sSsSs

Out of the castle, and into the manor.

Finally away from that place, Harry felt lighter. Harry felt warmer. Harry felt alive.

After the school found out about their favorite Defense teacher had passed away, it seemed the entire student body was mourning. They liked him, he had been a good professor, a nice man. He was a gentle soul, even if he was a beast outside. Inside, he was a good man.

No one in Slytherin had dared approach Harry.

Harry had suddenly, unexplainably, stopped talking. He would say nothing in class, at meal times, to his friends. Nothing. Many stayed far away, fearful of an explosion if they got too close. Harry had never been more intimidating to them.

They felt pity for Draco, when they learned that Harry would be living with him over the summer. Draco took it in stride. The blond wasn't worried. At all. He knew more of the truth than anyone else in the school, save for Theodore.

The train ride had been long and tense, but at least Harry hadn't actually spontaneously combusted.

Besides, one week at the manor, and Harry would be gone. Off somewhere with the Dark Lord himself. Lucky little git. Everyone was so jealous of Harry Potter.

sSsSs

Every morning in the Malfoy household, Harry woke up to a gift. Narcissa was a sweet woman. She knew far more than she should. She brought him a white Iceberg rose the first morning. The next, a small cluster of Annabelle hydrangea. A Shasta daisy. One Immortality iris. Snow-white Calla lily. A touch of Queen Anne's Lace.

On the last day, Harry received one perfect datura.

He'd never been so grateful to another person as he was to Narcissa Malfoy. All the flowers had been a solid, delicate white. The datura was his favorite though. It was absolutely perfect for him. It was soft, only blooming at night, staying open until dawn.

Every part of the plant was extremely poisonous.

Harry found a note with the last flower. A spell. A wonderful spell. It would keep the flower alive. For as long as Harry wanted. It made the flower's life something he could literally hold in his hand. It gave him power to have the plant forever, or kill it in a second.

Harry would never kill this datura.

sSsSs

"Harry, you've a very good job."

Alone in this new mansion with Voldemort was wonderful. Harry felt peaceful for the first time in his life. He'd not been here long, but already he knew this was were he wanted to stay. This was were he belonged.

This was home.

"So, even I get the silent treatment from you? Harry, if you didn't want to come here with me, you shouldn't have come."

"No! I wanted to come…"

Tricky Dark Lord finally made Harry speak. A slight curve of Harry's lips gave Voldemort a rush of pride. He could still manipulate anyone, even this psychopath of a child.

"Good. But tell me, why did you stop talking? Killing Lupin couldn't have been so bad, could it?"

All trace of emotion left the boy. That was it, he still hasn't broken free. He will though, the Dark Lord was going to see to it.

"Harry. You are my tool, are you not? This way what you wanted. His death was my decision, not yours. You were merely following orders, like any good little servant should."

Harry would not look him in the eye. This would not do.

Harry jerked as he felt a gentle touch from the Dark Lord lift his chin, forcing him to meet crimson eyes. A touch. One touch and Harry felt like he would die. Like he'd rather die. No touch was a good touch. Human hands would only hurt him.

"Calm yourself. I will not hurt you. Do you believe me?"

Of course, Harry didn't believe him.

"I will never hurt you, my little wizard. And if I do, I promise it will be with a wand. I will never hit you."

"How…how do you know I'm afraid of being hit?"

Well, we are getting somewhere.

"Harry, do you remember Halloween in your first year at Hogwarts? I used Legilimency on you. I saw everything you wanted to keep hidden."

Harry's eyes went wide, white showing around beautiful green.

"Yes, I saw the fire. I saw the hurt those filthy muggles caused you. They deserved death. And so did Lupin. I have the right to judge them, Harry, and do you know why?"

Harry slowly shook his head.

"You see, Harry, power is everything. And I have more than anyone alive. I am a god to these humans, and you are my little angel now. Aren't you, Harry?"

"An angel?"

"My angel. You belong to me, Harry. Only to me. Isn't that what you want?"

A soft smile from the boy was the answer. It was hesitant, but true. It was real, all of this. Voldemort may be lying to Harry, but that was just fine. Especially since that's all the child wanted. This special boy, his angel, could not handle reality. So, Voldemort would give him lies. Voldemort would save him from himself, from the truth.

He would feed Harry fables from his hand forever.

sSsSs

The diary was a great idea. Of course it was. It was Voldemort's idea.

Harry wrote in his book everyday, sometimes more than once. It felt good to get the confusing thoughts out. They were polluting his mind, always had been, and now it was like he was shedding dead skin every time he wrote. It was what Voldemort used to do when he was young.

The first was littered with what anyone else would call nonsense. Harry understood it, though, and that's all that mattered.

He lies to you.

Yes, he does.

You know, but you still believe in him.

Yes.

You're weak.

Because I believe him? I choose to. He makes me strong.

Only you can make yourself strong. You're pathetic.

Maybe, it doesn't really matter anymore.

Why?

His lies give me a reason to live.

Why?

The lies are sweeter than truth. They are the only thing I love.

You love now?

Yes. Only his lies.

You're sick.

I don't care.

It wasn't supposed to be this way.

I don't care.

sSsSs

The ritual was to be completed tonight. Harry had eagerly jumped at the chance to do something so important for his master, his god. The rebirth of Lord Voldemort had finally come.

And the Dark Lord didn't even have to worry about his angel's whereabouts. Harry had started following him around like a lost puppy. It was wondrous how the boy had changed, had so completely given up his entire existence for Voldemort.

Harry would not be able to function without his master now.

A new promise had been made, too. Harry swore never to leave Lord Voldemort, he would be at his side forever. Harry had told the truth. The Dark Lord swore the same, that he would always keep Harry at his side, and they would live forever, ruling the world. He had lied, but it was a necessary evil. Angels wear created to serve God, and God sacrificed his angels.

It was all for the greater good.

The first sight of the pale, snake-like man rising from the cauldron gave Harry chills. Voldemort was power incarnate. He would be the ruler of the world, and Harry would help him get there. Many of the Death Eaters who were present had thought the exact same thing. Bellatrix, her family, and all of the prisoners had been rescued from their prison, and now stood before their lord, in awe. Bellatrix was crying and yelling in excitement, and soon crowd joined her, bowing to their messiah.

Harry's heart skipped a beat.

He didn't belong here. He hated these people and he hated Voldemort, but he had no other choice. This was why he was born.

No one could save him now.