Together
Prompt: What if Harry hadn't died in the Forbidden Forest in the Battle for Hogwarts?
Warning: LVHP, NOT TRHP. This is going to be pure serpentine goodness. Will be rated M in later chapters. The first multi-chap fic I've written in years due to writing books, so bear with me. Writing someone else's characters after writing your own for so long is strange.
I don't own any of this stuff other than the 'plot', which I am sure has been done before. All characters belong to JK Rowling. What a Goddess.
Chapter 8: Those People
…
Harry felt water trickle down his skin, but when he looked, there was none. He was in a tiny cramped cupboard, unable to even sit up straight. He felt trapped. A row of toy soldiers and horses sat on a shelf in front of him, and there was a grate to his right. He peered out and saw a small, pale corridor. He let himself out of the tiny room and realised he had been sat in a cupboard under the stairs.
He stumbled into the front room to find a large, greying man and his son on the sofa. The wife was making coffee.
"You're getting lazy, Harry." The man muttered. "I expected my coffee an hour ago."
"Yeah, Potter, rise and shine." The boy snickered.
"Because of you, I had to stop my embroidery. You've already put me back on my schedule." The woman snapped.
Harry felt a sharp anger surge through him. He pulled out his wand and aimed it at the large man. He hated him. This man deserved to die. He didn't know why, he just needed to do it.
"Avada Kedavra!"
With a flash of green, the scene changed. Harry was stood inside a tower. The old man, their old Headmaster, was lying on the floor. He looked friendly. Harry knew better. He raised his wand.
"Harry, don't do it!" A girl shrieked. He looked over to see a blonde girl in tears, and a ginger boy hugging her. They both looked terrified of him.
"Harry, mate, you're better than this." The ginger boy mumbled, trying to calm Harry down.
"I don't know you. I don't know who you are." Harry growled, pointing the wand at the old man again.
"Crucio."
Harry watched as he squirmed and yelled. The girl started screaming; he wanted to shut her up.
Make it fling itself out of the window…
"Imperio." Harry muttered, causing the old man to rise, and then fly out of the window to his death.
…
Harry woke up, sweating, shaking and gasping for air. He couldn't move. He was still angry, but he was scared, and not knowing what had gone on turned the anger into fear, and he began to cry.
He was heard from down the corridor. Voldemort hadn't looked into the nightmare, but he had known something was wrong. The crying only solidified his…worry? Concern? Was he actually concerned for Harry? Labels for emotions didn't matter now, he just had to find out what was wrong. He ran into Harry's room and sat on the bed. The boy, without thinking, immediately started clinging to him. He was shaking wildly. Voldemort started to instinctively stroke his hair, something he had seen Narcissa do to an upset Draco many a time, and Harry eventually began to calm down.
"What happened, Harry?" Voldemort asked. Harry took a few moments to pull himself together.
"I-I don't know. Maybe you could tell me." He asked. Voldemort signalled for him to start.
"First, I was in a cupboard under the stairs. I went into the living room, and there was a family. Three of them. A man, a woman, and their son. They started telling me off for being lazy and ruining their days, and then…then I killed the man." He sniffed. Voldemort nodded, rubbing his back soothingly.
"Harry, my dear boy, that was the Muggle family they placed you with. They treated you like a slave, although I had no idea about you living in a cupboard under the stairs. That must have been awful." He sighed, actually feeling sorry for Harry. At least he'd had a room at the orphanage.
"And then I was in a tower." Harry continued. "I was in a tower and the Headmaster…"
"Dumbledore." Voldemort nodded.
"Yeah, he was there. And I was going to kill him, when I looked and there was a girl and a boy my age begging me to stop. The boy was ginger…
"Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley. Weasley is Draco's arch nemesis from what I've heard."
"Who were they?" Harry asked.
"Actors." Voldemort started, without a second thought. "Actors that Dumbledore paid to pretend to be your friends. He knew you were strong, Harry. They held you back. What happened next?"
Harry was still clinging to him. He hadn't looked up the entire time.
"I Crucio-ed Dumbledore. And then Imperio-ed him out of the window." Harry muttered. The Dark Lord laughed.
"Oh, Harry. It's funny you should say that, because that's how he died. He fell from your school's highest tower. How strange." Voldemort separated himself from Harry, and the boy finally looked up, no longer crying, but looking somewhat grateful for that bit of information.
He was scared to kill. Voldemort knew there had to be more trust built if Harry was going to hang on every word and obey his every command.
"Is there anything else?" He asked. "Or are you ready to go back to bed?"
Harry thought for a moment, before nodding.
"The son. From the Muggle family. He called me 'Potter'." Harry sighed. Voldemort froze.
"That…was the Muggle name they gave you. To hide you from your real family." He insisted. Harry nodded.
"I thought it sounded familiar, but…I think I'm used to Draco saying it? I think it matches him most."
"What about me?" Voldemort asked. "I was also told that was your name and called you it for many years."
Harry thought about it. A sharp hiss of the name. Yes, it fitted it well.
"I think I remember you calling me it at some point." Harry smiled. "You almost hissed it. I think it would also sound right coming from your mou…"
Voldemort suddenly swooped in and took the boy's lips for his own. Harry froze in shock for all of two seconds before he allowed it to happen, moaning slightly. Voldemort had to admit, he was stupidly attractive when he rambled, which was something he once found annoying. Now, however, it had become entertaining to watch. He pulled away, and Harry blushed deeply, not sure where to look. Voldemort ruffled his hair.
"Sleep well, Harry." As he went to leave the room, Harry called out to him.
"Am I still dreaming?"
Voldemort stopped for a moment in the doorway, not looking back. He smirked to himself.
"I'm afraid not."
…
Hi guys!
Well, that was a shocker even for me. Truth be told, I am making this up as I go along. I wasn't planning to have them kiss yet, but even writers get impatient.
Even I have no idea how this will end, but I hope you all stick around for it.
And I'm nearly at 100 followers! Thank you so much!
If any of you ever want to chat, or you have any ideas for how this could end, please message me at .com
You're all wonderful people.
-Alistair