Hello Everyone!
So yeah… the two week wait… FanFiction Lover, I wish I could have gone into more detail, but it was late, I had an 8:00 class in the morning and I had to make a decision to either give you guys a chapter Sunday night, or wait and have it come god knows when. When I go back through and edit once I'm finished, I will likely be elaborating on the sweet sweet torture. Also, I can say 100% that it's not Lily, I would have done that, but I couldn't figure out a realistic reason why A) she's alive and B) why she didn't reveal herself to her son for 25+ years. I won't tell you who she is, but you will find out eventually. Gabi: If you have any guesses, feel free to ask. I'm curious as to who you all think is our puppetmaster is. 107602: Yes, William survived until the end. There was no way Harry was going to let him die before he was ready. ChibiAyane: I wish y'all could have seen what I had in my head; it was truly gruesome. Shadoween: Oh yeas it hurt and the Dark Lord will try and convince him, but that brings me to my next point… I'm going out of order a bit. Instead of the convincing, I'm going to proceed with the duel. That being said… WARNING: If you don't know what my warnings mean by now then you probably shouldn't be on chapter thirteen, please go back to chapter one. Don't worry, I'll wait for you. *taps foot, looks at watch* ok ready now? Good.
I don't own Harry Potter!
Enjoy!
~Angelia
Chapter Thirteen: Duel
Harry's POV
The sun beat down bright, hot on the back of his neck. He paced slowly down the line of his kneeling students. They were all dressed the same: soft black pants and shirts that covered everything. They each wore a scarf, wrapped around their heads, leaving only empty eyes visible. They wore not shoes, nor gloves. Weapons glistened silver or gold, set off by the blackness of the outfit. They were dressed to kill, and knelt in complete silence, heads down, hands in their laps, perfectly still.
It was unsettling.
It was exactly what he wanted it to be.
Across the arena-the very one he had killed William in no more than twenty-four hours before-Grey stood with his chosen few. They all stood, dressed casually, in simple black robes. One short of fifty as Reece had taken one of them out of the fight. They were even now with the death of William. They were eyeing his men warily. He paused at the end of the line before pacing back the way he had come.
The softest whispers from the on-lookers hissed in the air.
"Do you see them? They look a bit ridiculous…"
"Shh… Don't you remember what he did to William Pence? He will kill you."
"…no better than magic."
"My money's on Grey."
Again Harry paused at the end of the line. Rather than repeat the endless circle, he stood there. He clasped his hands behind his back, and turned his gaze upward to where the Dark Lord sat. After his performance, the Dark Lord had come to him at last. He had taken him into his bed once more, leaving Harry more than a little sore. It was so different that William had been, rougher, filled with more primal energy than the assassin. Their eyes met and Harry nodded only slightly.
The Dark Lord stood, and the hall silenced immediately. "Welcome," his voice echoed through the room, amplified by magic. Harry shivered at the raw power that spread over the crowd, commanding their attention, their loyalty. "We have gathered you here this day to celebrate the time honored tradition of the duel. As you all are well aware, a challenge has been set. Harry Potter has proposed that he is better equipped to train my army. He believes that his…muggle tactics are more effective than our magic. He will prove it or suffer the consequences." The Dark Lord's eyes bore down on Harry's and his blood froze in his veins. That had not been a part of the original deal, but if he failed now, there would be pain.
"The rules are simple. There will be no killing, anyone caught attempting to end the life of their opponent will answer to me. You may prove that you could have killed them, but if any lasting damage is done you will suffer for it. I cannot afford to lose any more soldiers." He paused, letting his words sing in. "Potter. Grey. To the center."
Harry moved smoothly forward, the marble cool against his bare feet. He was distinguishable from his students only by his hair. Where his opponent had taken to dressing extravagantly to stand apart from his men, Harry was dressed to kill. His eyes were hard as they glared out from his scarf. The two men met in the center. Harry offered his hand first, squeezing Grey's hand a little harder than necessary.
"No matter what you prove here Potter," the other man hissed stepping closer, "You'll always be the whore that managed to fuck his way into the Dark Lord's favor."
"This coming from you Grey? You didn't talk so brave when you were vomiting all over William's head last night." Harry responded coolly, satisfied when the older man paled. Before he could say any more, Harry turned and went back to the sidelines. He stood behind the first in the row and waited.
There was a soft whistle and Harry lightly touched their shoulder. They took their place opposite from their opponent. They took their stance and Harry knew immediately that this fight was lost. His student- a man by the name of Herek- was not fast enough to go up against his opponent- a woman who boasted her ability to use wordless magic faster than any other. There was a tense silence as everyone held their breath, waiting. Again there was a soft whistle, followed by a flash of light. In less than a second it was over; Herek knelt, his hands over his face. He let out a cry of pain as he body trembled. Beneath his fingers, Harry could see blood. Two witches rushed forward as the woman resumed her place on her side. They seized Herek and half drug him off the field.
Harry could see that he was shaking as more lacerations appeared on his body. He couldn't help be feel impressed. She had managed to take him out faster than he thought possible. He eyed the healers warily as he took his place behind the never person in line. He could hear the soft murmurs of the crowd. They were already questioning him and it had only been one battle. Surly he trained them better than this, he could hear them accuse. He ignored them. The blood was quickly cleaned from the arena with a wave of a wand, and again everyone waited.
Like before, when the whistle blew, he lightly touched his student's shoulder. It as another man, Jeffery. He was fast, and would win if-
The whistle blew and Jeffery swept forward. His opponent dodged his attack. She tried to hit him with a binding curse, but he was already moving, his leg coming up to smash into her knee. There was a sickening crunch and a scream as the woman collapse. Just like that the battle was over.
"Very good Jeffery," Harry said softly.
The man bowed, "Thank you Sir." His voice was muffled by the scarf, and he resumed his kneeling position.
The dueling continued much like that. He would send one of his men out, knowing immediately not only who they were, but if they stood a chance. The spectators reacted more as the battles continued on. At first there were sounds of disbelief or of anger when one of his bested one of Grey's, but every so often he would catch an awed comment when one of them did something particularly spectacular. He lost as many as he won; Grey's were good, fast thinking and adaptive. He was impressed by their ability to improvise. He was beginning to realize that the Dark Lord had been winning on more than ruthlessness alone. Reece had nearly lost her right arm during her duel with a wizard the others called the Hound. He had managed to cast an illusion spell that created several duplicates of himself. Had Reece not seen through it at the last moment she would have lost.
Throughout the entirety of the duel, the Dark Lord had remained silent. His expression remained completely blank, giving away nothing about how he was feeling. The only time his expression ever changed was when Harry and Sean had finally stepped into the center. He shifted his weight ever so slightly, leaning forward. He eyes glowed with curiosity.
It had been agreed by both of them that they would conclude the dueling: master vs. master. It would prove the true power of both sides. Harry rolled his shoulders slowly forcing his body to relax. Seconds passed. He had never heard so many people sit in complete silence. Harry could feel his mind already narrowing, the familiar machine-like quality that he had adopted when he was on the front lines taking hold.
Wait for it.
One.
Two.
Whistle.
Strike.
He moved like lightning. Sensing rather than seeing the spell, he dodged to the right.
Move.
Right.
Left.
Draw.
He drew one of the blades on his wrist, dodging as another spell flew past his left ear.
Closer.
So close.
Gone.
He turned suddenly. Sean had apparated several feet behind him.
Fuck.
He threw himself down as a torrent of flames licked the air above him.
Roll.
On your feet.
He neared him again.
Feign Right.
Strike left.
Kick.
"Remember if you ever feel the need to kick above the knee, you may as well but the blade through your own chest because you're dead."
He ignored the words of his master.
Miss.
He twisted to regain his balance.
Sweat flowed down his cheeks. It was soaked up by the scarf-keeping it out of his eyes.
Dodge.
Strike.
Strike.
Strike.
He had Sean in a corner. He lashed out again.
A spell hit his wrist.
His arm went numb. The dagger clattered to the ground. He drew another with his left hand.
Kick up.
His foot connected with Sean's wrist, sending his wand flying.
The other man grabbed his now extended leg. His hand connected with the skin of his foot. Pain shot up his leg. Harry cried out, his body convulsing in pain. He collapsed, grabbing onto Sean as he did. He rode the other man to the ground. His forearm pressed to his throat. Sean's hands came up to connect with his face, growing hot. Harry pressed down as pain shot through his head. He was on the verge of passing out, but he didn't let up.
"Enough."
Harry pulled back, and Sean's hands dropped away. They turned their gaze to the now standing Dark Lord. "Impressive, both of you. It seems we have no true winner. Mister Potter, your student's won the most duels; however you Mister Grey have a remarkable talent for teaching and have proven your abilities in battle." He paused, looking down at them both. "Any who wish to join Harry Potter in his teachings may. They will make up a specialized unit. All others may study under Sean Grey." His eyes flashed, daring either of them to argue.
"Yes my Lord," they replied in unison.
Harry turned his gaze back to his opponent. He said nothing as he stood slowly, offering the older man his hand. Sean looked from it to Harry's face before cautiously accepting. Harry held it for a moment, nodding slightly. He had never fought anyone like that; he respected Sean Grey. He was a formidable opponent.
Without another word they turned and went in opposite directions. They would never like each other, but there was a mutual respect in place. Harry's men rose as he approached, "Sir," they said as one, standing at attention.
Harry nodded once, "Dismissed all of you. We will meet on the training grounds tomorrow morning." He bowed once to the Dark Lord before exiting, feeling empty-more at peace- than he had in a long time.
Harry sighed deeply as the hot water ran down his back. Despite his best efforts the sort of numb peace had clung to him, refusing to dissipate as the hours passed. It was now late in the evening, the manor was still and silent, and he still felt hallow. He mauled over his theory as he washed his hair. That was the first time-save for his failed battle with William-that he had been in combat in well over a year. War had been a part of his life for five years, not having to worry about it had thrown him off. He would have to talk to the Dark Lord about that, perhaps he would allow him to resume his life as a soldier. He had missed it, the mindless way in which he fought.
When he had washed, Harry wrapped himself in a towel and returned to his room to collapse on his bed. He threw one arm over his eyes, his body relaxing in degrees. When had he started enjoying killing exactly? At first the war had been difficult on him, seeing death had upset him to no end. Back then he had only used magic, often times using disarming spells rather than killing ones. He could still remember the first time he had actually killed someone in the heat of battle. The boy had been his age-no more than eighteen-and he had come at him his lips already forming the words that would end Harry's life. Harry had struck first. The words Avada Kedavra burned on his lips that first time. It had been easier after that. Somewhere along the line he had started enjoying it. And then he had met Runcore, and he had taught him a new way of killing.
He needed to be back out there. On impulse, Harry stood. His feet carried him towards the largest bedroom at the end of the hall. He knocked without hesitation, realizing only after the door had creaked open that he was still in nothing but a towel.
"Harry?" the Dark Lord asked confused. He was still dressed, in the dark suit he had been wearing earlier, but had taken on his true form. The cold expression looked out of place on his god-like face. The Dark Lord's crimson eyes roamed up and down his body once before he grabbed Harry suddenly, pulling him into the room and all but slamming the door. "Do tell me why you were standing out in the hallway naked," he demanded. His eyes roamed over Harry's body hungrily, his tone full of lust rather than the anger he would have normally displayed.
"I need…" Harry gasped as Voldemort's lips descended on his throat, lightly biting and sucking down from his ear. "I wanted…" A low groan pulled from his lips as the Dark Lord's hands plunged into his still wet hair, pulling his head to the side so to give him better access to his throat. "My Lord…" Harry abandoned his question, not that he could remember what it had been now.
With his face still buried in his neck, the Dark Lord raked his nails down Harry's chest, stopping at the top of the towel. The cloth fell away as the Dark Lord took hold of his already hard cock. He thrust against his long, expert fingers, tilting his head back as pleasure washed through him. He pulled at the Dark Lord's clothes, wanting to feel his bare skin when he took him. He moaned loudly as the Dark Lord pumped him, squeezing him hard as he jacked him off. Harry managed to get half of the buttons on his shirt undone before the Dark Lord paused. Harry made a sound of protest as his hands left his cock to take hold of his hands. The Dark Lord gathered both of Harry's hand in one of his, pressing them behind him to the small of his back. It was an unspoken rule-Harry was not allowed to touch his Master.
The Dark Lord bound his hands behind him before tossing his clothes unceremoniously aside. He moved so that he was standing behind Harry, lightly wrapping his hand around his throat as he walked the younger man forward. Harry found his face pressed to the soft green fabric of the Dark Lord's bed. The scent of whatever they had been washed in filled his nose as Voldemort nudged his legs apart with one of his feet. The magical bonds were released and the Dark Lord's hand pressed to the back of Harry's neck, "Hands above your head," he commanded.
"Yes Master," Harry gasped, grinding his hips lightly against the Dark Lord. The words were instinctive. He knew it what was what his Master wanted. He enjoyed the control, the dominance…almost as much as Harry enjoyed the submission. This was the biggest difference from any other experience he had ever had. There was nothing expected of him, no decision to make, not thoughts to think except for pleasing the man that was now holding his arms above his head.
"Keep them there. You will be punished if you move them." The Dark Lord informed him. He slid two long fingers into Harry's ass, making him squirm.
"Yes Master," Harry moaned, his fists clenching in the blankets. He felt the Dark Lord's cock replace his fingers suddenly, making Harry nearly scream in pleasure. He reached back wanting to feel more than his Master's hands on his hips, and the Dark Lord tsked softly.
He thrust roughly into him suddenly; gathering up Harry's wondering hands and pressing them to the mattress with one of his own. "I told you to keep these up here," he grunted as he thrust in and out of his pet.
"Forgive me Sir," Harry moaned as the Dark Lord hit the small bundle of nerves with every thrust.
Voldemort thrust harder, enjoying the cries of the man under him. His hand came down suddenly on Harry's ass, causing him to let out a sound that wasn't entirely pained.
"Sir…" Harry gasped, rather than recoiling he thrust against his Master. The sharp sting had faded into warmth. The Dark Lord's hand came down again a few more times; never hitting the exact same place twice. Harry was begging now, already so close. He could feel his orgasm building, and he pressed his face into the bed. Just as he teetered on the edge, the Dark Lord's fingers curled tightly around the base of his cock, squeezing.
"Not yet," he hissed in his ear.
Harry cried out, his senses shot from being so close to completion only to have it denied. "Please," he begged, throwing his head back, "Please my Lord."
The Dark Lord didn't let up; he kept up his relentless pace. Harry couldn't think, couldn't breathe past the all-consuming desire that coursed through his blood. He would have said anything, given anything in that moment if it meant release. He could see nothing by white; his ears were filled with the roaring of his blood, and the deafening moans of pleasure that fell from his lips. After what seemed like an eternity the Dark Lord's steady pace became erratic, and his hands clamped tightly around Harry's waist. No sooner did his Master's fingers release him did Harry come. He screamed his release, his vision going completely white as he came hard, spilling his seed onto the side of the bed. Only seconds after, did he become awe that the Dark Lord too had found his completion. The heat that filled his lower half was normally uncomfortable, but at the moment, all Harry was concerned with was catching his breath.
He didn't react save for a small whine when the Dark Lord pulled out of him. He couldn't move as he was lifted and gently laid on the bed. He body instinctively curled around itself as his breathing slowed. Harry was only vaguely aware of something being draped over him. He knew there was something he needed to ask, something he needed to do, but the darkness that fluttered on the edges of his mind beckoned. Too tired to fight it, Harry let the darkness claim him, sinking into a deep sleep.
Thank you for reading Everyone! Sooooo any comments? This is the most graphic sex scene I've ever written for a fic, and I'd like to know if you want more like this. I hope this makes up for my not posting last week. Let me know what you think! The next chapter will be…something. I have an idea I think.
~Angelia Reader