Hello Everyone!

I'd like to begin this AN with an apology: I've left you hanging with last chapter, and have made you wait. My only excuse is that I've been busy. I just started college and I'm not going to have the time to write except for between classes, at night, and on the weekends. You'll probably be getting a chapter every Sunday evening (at least that's my goal). Now to continue: I have gotten more reviews on last chapter than any other chapter I have EVER written. I guess you guys like it. I'm going to try and respond to them all that pertain to Chapter 12 here, if you wrote one before that, and really want a reply, PM me and tell me so I can do so. FanFiction Lover: so you're no longer mad about them sleeping together? Good to know. William is going to die, and it's going to be epic. kater994: Harry's learned his lesson (for the most part) but you'll see what I mean later. Gabi: I love that you're obsessed, and Harry's the top in their relationship. However in our actual couple, Voldemort tops, no exceptions. noelnoel2: thank you for reading thus far. I'm sorry I couldn't bring you in. Tenshi-Lily-Hime-Sama: He is, and sadly Voldemort is the jealous type, he will always react badly if anyone tries to step in on what is his. Titania of Swords: Welcome to the club, there's cookies in the back, and I am glad not only that you love my fic, but that it was actually recommended to you! That makes me so happy! Shadoween: you know you're the only one that thought about the duel. Congratulations. I have a plan for that, just wait. honest critic: noting could stop me from writing. I'm glad I have you on your toes, because I'm looking forward to starting this chapter. Kirtash R: agreed love.

Ok, is that everyone? I think so… Ok this chapter will be William's death. WARNING: Torture, epic, sweet, revenge torture.

I don't own Harry Potter!

~Angelia

Chapter Twelve: Revenge

Harry's POV

The light seared his eyes when the door opened. He croaked. The aching in his shoulders was second only to the slowly fading burn that has spread like wildfire through his blood. He couldn't say how long he had been here; he was positive he had lost time somewhere between the Dark Lord leaving and the door opening again. He couldn't remember what he had said, what pleas he had screamed, all he could remember was burning alive. Now that his mind had cleared somewhat, he felt ashamed at how he had acted.

Ashamed and pissed.

He wanted to kill the man who had put him here. Not the Dark Lord; he was in the right, Harry deserved his punishment. But William, he was going to destroy the boy if the Dark Lord hadn't done so already. The fury was just this side of blinding. He was going to kill him. More than that, he was going to make him an example, a testament to what happens when he is crossed.

A familiar pale figure stepped inside, his long black robes whispering as they slid against the stone.

"My Lord," he lowered his head in submission. He begged silently, not knowing if it was for forgiveness or mercy. He would stay here for as long as the Dark Lord wished, in order to make amends for his mistakes.

The Dark Lord said nothing. He stepped forward, and lightly trailed a finger down Harry's cheek. Harry didn't move as he traced his features, much like William had done just before he had tried to kill him. The silence was heavy between them, neither needed to speak to know what the other felt. They had been bound for far too long for the necessity of words. With a shock Harry realized just how badly he had hurt him; he could feel the Dark Lord's betrayal deep in his chest. He hadn't thought the Dark Lord capable of such emotion; he was even more damaged than Harry himself with eight pieces of himself gone. "I'm sorry," he hissed softly in Parcletongue.

The Dark Lord moved suddenly, so that he was pressing Harry back against the wall. His lips hovered inches away, and for one wild moment, he thought the Dark Lord was going to kiss him, something he had yet to do. "Never again Harry," his voice was a soft and dangerous as it always was, with no hint of the hurt that Harry had sensed before, "If you ever do anything like that again, your fault or no, I will kill you slowly and without mercy. Do you understand me?"

"Yes my Lord."

"Swear to it."

"I swear my Lord, on all that I am, on my magic and the life I do not value that I will never touch another person, man or woman, unless you release me from my bond to you." Harry felt his chest tighten, the air thickened with magic, becoming harder to breathe. He understood instantly, they were more than just petty words; he had made a vow, in Parcletongue no less. It could not be broken without the Dark Lord's words. Harry would have felt betrayed about it, but it felt right. He would do all it took to prevent this from happening again. If anyone crossed his path like William had, he would kill them himself if that's what it took. This vow he made to himself.

As if seeing the resolution in his eyes, Lord Voldemort smiled, "Now come," he commanded, "We have to do damage control."

The chains vanished and Harry collapsed. His shoulders screamed in agony as the blood flowed back to them, but after a moment he was able to stand. The Dark Lord gave a wave of his wand to clean him, and handed him a bundle of clothes.

As he pulled on his pants (no underwear, typical of the Dark Lord) he asked, "Damage control my Lord?"

"Yes, it seems your actions happening right under my nose have damaged my image of being all powerful. Mister Pence is crafty, not only was he planning on killing you, but he wanted to paint me as an ineffective leader, hoping to have my men desert me. I've been cleaning up your mess for the past twenty-four hours, now it's your turn." He explained coolly.

"What will you have me do my Lord?" Harry responded, "Mister Pence is? He's still alive?" Harry could help but feel the smallest bit of satisfaction; it meant that he would have the chance to convince the Dark Lord that his way of disposing of the assassin was best.

"He is," the Dark Lord replied. His lips curled into a chilling smile, "I was saving him for you."

Harry paused, his fingers on the button of his pants, "Thank you my Lord. Forgive me for asking, I'm not ungrateful, but why?"

He laughed, truly laughed, as if Harry had said something amusing. "Revenge is a desire that must be fulfilled. If it is denied, it can drive you mad. Trust me, I would know."

Harry wanted to ask more, but he stopped himself. The Dark Lord would likely not enjoy having his private life pried into. No sooner than Harry was dressed, did the door at the end of the hall open. Lucius came in, dragging one of his men (a woman actually, Reece). She seemed unharmed, but the man supported by Shean Grey looked as if he had been mauled by a bear. His shirt hung off his body in shreds, and between the loose fabrics, Harry could see bruising from what were undoubtedly broken ribs. He held his right foot off of the ground; the faint outline of a protruding bone could be seen through his pants. His nose was broken as well, blood was drying where it had run down his face and neck before it had been healed.

All in all, Harry couldn't help be impressed by the handiwork. It had been done by someone who knew what they were doing. He attempted to look Reece in the eye, but she avoided his gaze.

"My Lord," Lucius addressed him first, tightening his grip on Reece's arm. "This one has attacked Mister Clovard. I have several witnesses stating that they had some sort of verbal confrontation, followed by Miss Greta Reece attacking him. As you can see, she has done quite a bit of damage."

Reece had the wits about her to look ashamed, but Harry got the impression that it was more because of himself, than the Dark Lord. 'Forgive me my Lord; she is one of mine, if I may?" He waited until the Dark Lord had nodded, his eyes glittering with amusement before continuing. "Miss Reece, what is our first creed?" He demanded, his face conforming into a stern mask.

"Stay your blade, lest the only option is to fight," she replied, her gaze trained on her feet, "but Sir I-"

"And the second?" He snapped.

"When we fight, we fight to kill. A living enemy is one that may rise up once more. But Sir-"

"Then why were you fighting?" His voice rose, making her flinch. She was his second No, first now best student. She was born to fight, and had even assisted in teaching when he was occupied. She would be something great when she received more training. Harry suspected there was something in her past that gave her the urge to fight as she did, but there was an unspoken rule among his men. You never asked about someone's past; it was they're business, not yours.

"Sir, Hernd was insulting you. I could not, stand by and allow him to continue. If you had heard what he was saying," she lifted her head slightly, to meet his icy gaze.

"You attacked someone over an insult?" he hissed sharply, "Have I taught you nothing? Never use your training for anything other than war or defense."

"I know Sir, but he was calling you nothing but a traitor whore, who has slept his way to the Dark Lord's trust, proceeded to nearly get himself killed because he couldn't keep his cock in his pants." She sounded desperate, as if she needed him to understand why she had to do what she did.

Harry couldn't help but feel the sting of his words, but rather than show it his eyes hardened farther, "I don't give a damn what he said, there is no excuse for what you did." He knew he was going too hard on her, but at least for now he needed to be stern.

He should have seen this coming. The Dark Lords words rang in his ears. It had been some time ago, after he had been brought up from the basement, but before he had created the Horcrux. Someone had insulted him similar to this, and the Dark Lord had informed him of a simple truth. 'They will not give you respect you have not earned Harry. These are not your precious Order, they are my Death Eaters. You're fame means nothing here; if anything they all hate you more for it. If you command their respect they will give it to you, but you have to earn it.' He hadn't done anything with that information yet, and so he had heard the whispers when they thought he wasn't listening. No one had ever been so forward about what they all were thinking, knowing that Harry was not someone to be challenged openly. Until now that is. William had seen to that. Inspiration stuck him so suddenly that he almost missed what Reece was saying.

"I understand Sir," she said finally.

"Lucius let her go. We will discuss your punishment in length tomorrow. Now go, all of you."

Grey glared at him as he turned, but they all obeyed when the Dark Lord said nothing different. As soon as they were alone, Harry spoke, "I know what needs to be done my Lord." He quickly told him his plan, and the Dark Lord smiled wickedly.

"Perfect, I didn't think you had something like that in you. I will gather what you need. Give me an hour."

Harry bowed as the Dark Lord left, to put his plan into action.

Tom's POV

The soft chatter of his Death Eaters filled the room. They spoke in soft whispers, warily eyeing the boy that was tied to a metal table in the center of a lowered platform. The seats were raised to create a sort of stadium in the center of the manor so everyone had a perfect view of the naked boy surrounded by various instrument. Punishment, as an unspoken rule of his, as always done in private, with no spectators unless they themselves were participating. This however was not his show. He would only be watching tonight. Everything had been set up to his specific instructions.

He schooled his features into a mask of indifference, ignoring the hatred that boiled in his blood as he looked down at the would-be assassin. He had been sent by the Order, much to his surprise. He hadn't thought them capable of sending someone to kill their precious hero. He wished he could have left the boy in agony, but Harry had insisted that William be healed. He had been assured that he would once again be in pain soon enough.

'How dare he… He not only slept with my consort, but then tried to kill him.' He had been lucky that Harry had no died, the boy was fast. He had obviously been trained most of his life in the art of killing. It was clear that if he had not come in when he did, Harry would have died. He would have brought him back, of course, but… The Dark Lord would never admit the moment of sheer panic he had felt as he watched William's blade come down. 'You're getting soft…' he told himself absently, knowing it wasn't true. He could still kill the "Chosen One" if it came to it. It would have been difficult, but he could do it.

"My Lord?" the traitor Severus stepped forward cautiously, kneeling before the raised throne that had been set at the highest point of the room.

"Severus?" he drawled, keeping his tone indifferent, bored. He knew he could not trust the man. He knew that he had been working for Dumbledore the entirety of his return. He knew that he was in constant contact with someone who he had yet discover. Despite his best efforts, he had been unable to discover who Severus was truly reporting too. They must be very powerful in order to remain hidden from his detection. All he knew was that it was not the Order, his spies had gave no indication that the Order was contacting anyone other than their own spies (who he routinely fed wrong information).

"My Lord, everyone has gathered for…whatever this is… I don't understand my Lord…" he admitted.

"You will soon see," he replied, turning his attention to the doors as they opened on the far side of the arena like room.

Some laughed, others whispered, while others still gave their upmost respect as Harry Potter entered. He was dressed as if ready to enter the muggle world, black jeans and a red t-shirt. He had no weapons on him as far as the Dark Lord could see, but from experience he knew Harry didn't need them. He hopped Harry wasn't wasting his time. He wasn't convinced the young one was capable of all out torture, or that he even knew how, and he wanted to hear William scream, beg for mercy that would not come. He could see the shock in the boy's eyes, and he tried to talk through the gag in his mouth.

Harry walked silently over to a small stand that had been set beside William's table. He plucked one of many syringes from the pile and held it up as if examining it in the light. The chemical in it was clear, giving no hint as to what it could be. "This," everyone silenced at once, turning all of their attention to him, "is a chemical known as adrenalin. For those of you that do not know, it is secreted by the adrenal glands in times of distress. It increases the heart rate and breathing of the affected while sharpening their focus and at times giving them incredible strength and endurance." He moved suddenly, plunging it deep into William's bare chest and pressing down on the plunger. "In this case, it will prevent you from passing out on me." William's eyes widened, and he strained against the ropes. If the Dark Lord wasn't mistaken, one of them was slipping. Harry didn't seem to notice, and that worried him a bit. However Harry continued his speech.

"This," he held up one of the assorted tools that had been laid out on a large table nearby, "Is a simple dagger." William's hand slipped free, and Harry moved like lightning, stabbing threw his wrist and the metal beneath. William screamed through the gag, "It's going to remind you that there is no hope of escape. Calmly, Harry removed the cloth from between his lips.

"Please. Please, what do you want to know? I'll tell you anything I was sent by my Master. He-he said that the orders came from the Light army and-"

"Shhhh," Harry hissed, lightly pressing a finger to his lips, "I don't care who sent you, or why. He leaned forward so that his lips pressed to his ear, "I just want to hear you scream for me."

William's eyes were wide with fear, showing to much white. He was pleading; the word 'Please' repeated over and over. "These are bolt cutters," Harry continued, holding them up for all to see. He paced over to William's feet, "They're for your toes." Everyone held their breath as Harry lined the shear like objects with the assassin's toes.

The Dark Lord leaned forward slightly; watching, surly he wasn't going to… Harry sliced through each toe one at a time first on his left foot, and then his right. William screamed; his shrill cries echoing around the hall. Several people flinched, other's laughed. One taunted "Is that all you've got Potter?" Harry pulled out his wand and pressed the end to the bleeding stumps where the metatarsals had once been. William's voice broke under the strain of his cries as the wounds were cauterized.

"This," Harry held up a large saw, "Is called a bone saw, it's used for surgery." He started to cut through his feet, left and then right. If his Death Eaters were laughing before, they weren't now. Soon William's feet joined his toes in a large tub. These too were cauterized. The boy's screams were deafening, and the Dark Lord couldn't help but smile at the sound. If fear held the faintest hints of sensualism, this was full on erotic. He enjoyed pain and torture, and this was one of the most beautiful displays he had ever seen.

The show continued like that. Harry would pluck something from the pile, explain its use, and then proceed to cut off a piece of the assassin. His leg at the knee, at the hip. Then the fingers at every joint, the wrists, the elbows the shoulders. Each with a different tool or weapon. He cauterized everything, but still blood soaked the floor, staining the hems of his jeans, his bare feet, and his arms, there was even a smear of it across his cheek. Twice his lover had to stop to administer more adrenalin. Harry's eyes glowed with a sort of inner satisfaction; he was enjoying this.

William screamed all the while, begging at first for mercy, and then for death. He wept, and puked, but never sank into unconsciousness, not even when his cock was cut off with a pair of pipe cutters. Finally, Harry stood beside William's head (he was nothing more than a living head and torso now). Harry hefted a great sword onto his should, and gazed down at the boy who had seduced and tried to kill him. There was perfect silence, save for the sounds of puking form his weaker Death Eaters. Those that had not passed out were losing what was in their stomachs.

William was whimpering, but said nothing. His gaze was empty, broken. Harry looked down at him, meeting his gaze. "I considered leaving you like this." he said, his words reaching every ear, "A testament to what I am capable. But you taught me a valuable lesson William Pence. For that, I give you death." With one move he took William's head, slicking threw the third and fourth vertebrae with ease. He gazed down at this handy work for a moment, before picking up the head by the hair. He held it aloft, letting the blood run down his arm, "Let this be a warning, to any and all who defies my Lord, to all who think I am nothing but a weak war hero of the Light, to all who think I am incapable of killing. If anyone crosses my path as he did you will receive worse treatment, and you will be left alive. I am my Lord's Death," he announced, looking into Voldemort's eyes, as if daring him to object. The Dark Lord only nodded for him to continue, "If you are found to be a spy or a traitor, you will end up like Mister William Pence." In one move he tossed the head, where it landed gracefully into Shean Grey's lap. His vomit mixed with the blood on his pants.

It was perfect, the Dark Lord realized. Harry, in one act, had not only shown his loyalty to the Dark Lord, but showed his own power, his own ruthlessness, while retrieving his revenge. He couldn't think of a better way to do all of that, if not this. Harry bowed once to him, and the Dark Lord nodded slowly, his eyes burning with equal parts appreciation and need. Without another word, Harry left the room, creating bloody footprints as he exited, his head held high.

Severus's POV

Severus waited on the very edge of the Malfoy grounds. It was getting cool as October approached. The potion's master blew in his hands to warm them, and waited. She said she would come tonight, but by his watch she was late. There was the softest rustling behind him, and he turned, raising his wand. It was only a rabbit. He relaxed only slightly.

"Jumpy as always Severus," she laughed, stepping from between the trees.

"You're late," he snapped, "If I don't hurry, they will realize I'm gone. What did you have to see me so badly."

She laughed again and plucked a leaf from a nearby tree, "You have a good thirty minutes before anyone realizes you're missing," she paused and watched as a light came on in one of the bedrooms, "Things are not going as I expected. There was a one in a million shot that this would happen, and it did."

"What do you mean?" he hated when she did this. She claimed to know everything, but she rarely said anything about her plans.

"Neither of them realize what's at stake, what they share." She continued as if not hearing him. "If they do not then the Dark Lord will lose this war, and all will be lost."

"What is it damn it!" he nearly shouted. He flinched at the volume of his own voice, and said again, "What do you need me to do."

"You need to go to the Dark Lord and suggest that he try and bring Harry over to his side." She said finally.

"I don't understand, isn't he?"

"Yes. No."

"Which is it, yes or no?"

"Both," she admitted softly, "He will obey, but he doesn't share the views of his Master. If he does not all is lost."

"So what must I do?" he asked anxiously. He had only a few minutes left in the thirty she had told him of.

"You must convince the Dark Lord to show Harry the truth." Her eyes never left the lighted window.

"How?" Severus demanded, his impatience was getting the best of him.

"I can't tell you," she turned her eyes to him with a smile.

"Why the hell not?" he snapped, "You always do this to me damn you. You give me an Order and then refuse to explain why or how," he seized her shoulders suddenly, shaking her lightly, "I need to know."

"Oh Severus," she lightly kissed his cheek, as one friend may do to another, "If I told you everything, you would lose your heart, and never do what needs to be done. Just trust me; I have the best interest of man-kind in mind." The light clicked off and her eyes went blank, "Go. Now. Tell him now that he must show Harry the truth in the morning. Now Severus. You're actions are our only hope."

With that she was gone. Shaking his head, Severus obeyed, there was no point in arguing with the girl; she always claimed to know best.

Thank you for reading Everyone! Sooo what do you think? There's a review box down below here to tell me, please use it. The next chapter will be our mysterious puppet master's "truth." I love you all!

~Angelia Reader