Title: The One True King
Author: Shara Lunison
Beta: Batsutousai
Rating: M
Pairings: eventual HP/LV, JP/LE, HP/everyone, ever
Warnings: AU, OoC, character death, pseudo Lion King crossover; dark, insane, promiscuous, Slytherin Harry; pseudo incest, more as they happen
~If You're Alone in This Awful Downpour~
The first time that Harry met Lord Voldemort was during Christmas of his second year. Lucius had invited him to the Malfoy Christmas ball, and Harry was informed the day before the event that the Dark Lord would be making an appearance in one of the private salons.
The man couldn't very well appear in the ballroom itself—there were too many Ministry personnel who would be present there.
Harry couldn't sleep the night before the party. He tossed and turned in his bed in the guest room of the east wing. Daydreams winked through his thoughts—dreams of meeting the Dark Lord, of becoming his favorite, of earning some favor. Dreams of the Dark Lord taking him as an apprentice, teaching him the true secrets of the dark arts. When at last he fell into restless sleep, the dreams followed him. He dreamed of the Dark Lord touching him, and the dark magic sang along his nerves, calling to him. Whispering his name. Harry…Harry…
"Harry!"
A hand was shaking his shoulder, and Harry blinked open sleepy emerald eyes to see Lucius leaning over him with a frantic look on his face.
"Good, you're awake. It's mid-afternoon, Harry! You need to get ready before the guests start arriving."
Harry sat bolt upright and looked out the window. The sun was already midway through its descent. "I overslept! Why didn't one of the house elves wake me?"
Lucius sighed in exasperation. "They said something about you being up all night, and refused to wake you themselves. I haven't had a minute to come wake you myself until now. And I have to run. You can dress yourself, I assume?"
Harry glared up into Lucius' mocking silver eyes, and swung his legs out of the bed after throwing off the covers.
Lucius became very still and quiet, and Harry looked up curiously.
"Did you have a good dream?" Lucius teased. His eyes had darkened to a stormy gray color.
Blushing, Harry looked down and realized that he was sporting an erection. Hastily, he pulled the covers closer and hunched into a ball.
"It's all right, Harry," Lucius said softly. "It's normal for that to start happening at your age. What were you dreaming about?"
Harry kept his eyes down, his face flaming even more. "The Dark Lord," he whispered.
Lucius breathed in sharply, and turned away.
"He is not a nice man, Harry," Lucius whispered back. "There is nothing soft or gentle about him."
Harry relaxed slightly and looked up at his friend's back. "Why are you telling me that?"
From where he was sitting, Harry could only see Lucius close his eyes and his shoulders slump. "I don't want you to get hurt. I care about you, Harry."
For a moment, Harry didn't know what to say. "Thank you," he finally whispered.
Lucius turned around again, giving him a tremulous smile. "Come to me if you ever need help figuring out your body. I know you can't approach your own father. I would like to help you if I can."
Harry gave him a gentle smile and shooed the older boy away with his hand. "I will. Now go back to your party planning. I know you're still busy."
Lucius nodded, bowed slightly, and swept out the door.
With a heavy sigh, Harry pulled back the blankets and looked down at his still-hard erection. Being in the presence of Lucius' dark mark certainly hadn't helped to abate the problem any. What was he going to do if he got hard every time he was around dark magic? Or was it just the Dark Lord's magic?
Standing, he went into the loo to take a shower before getting dressed for the party. With luck, he might be able to tame his hair.
And while he was in there, maybe he could try that thing called masturbation that the older Slytherins whispered about when they thought no one was listening.
~I Wish I Knew What You Were Looking For~
As Harry stepped closer to the salon doors, he had to bite back a moan. The room pulsed with the power of dark magic. The flimsy walls and paint and wooden doors could not contain it.
When he stepped inside, he did moan. The feel of the Dark Lord's power flickered along his nerve endings. It slid across his skin in a cold caress. It made him feel alive.
"What's this?" A silky slither of a voice made its way across the room toward Harry. "A little lamb has gotten lost on his way."
Harry looked up with hooded green eyes to gaze into startling slit-pupiled red. "My lord," he gasped, falling to his knees at once and lowering his eyes.
"Perhaps not so little a lamb, after all." Voldemort sounded amused. Harry swallowed a giddy laugh, inordinately pleased to have amused the Dark Lord.
The dark magic swirled around him, closer and closer, squeezing him tight. Just when he thought he might burst from the pressure, a hand entered his vision, and skeletal, white fingers gently grasped his chin to make him look up.
"Such eyes," Voldemort whispered, one long finger stroking Harry's cheek.
Harry studied the man before him. The Dark Lord's face was almost waxy in appearance, as though the skin might melt and drip away at any moment. His jet-black hair was thin, and his nose seemed absurdly small for his face. What little lip the man had was completely without color.
What was wrong with him? Surely he wasn't dying? Was this what dark magic did when you steeped yourself in it as deeply as the Dark Lord? No, Harry thought, surely he wouldn't allow it to change him so.
Yet the only beautiful thing he could find in Voldemort's face were his eyes. Shining crimson, like rubies. They glowed with health and life and power.
The Dark Lord gave a slight smile, and spoke at last. "You find my features disgusting."
There were gasps around the room. Harry didn't bother to turn his head away from the Dark Lord's eyes. He knew no feature of his own face had betrayed him. Which meant a different kind of magic was at play.
"Legilimency…" he whispered, and Voldemort's nearly hairless eyebrows rose in surprise even while a delighted smile transformed his face.
"You are quite an interesting lamb, young Harry Potter," Voldemort whispered, for Harry's ears alone. "But this is not a safe place for lambs. Run along now."
The hand left his face and Harry calmly rose from his kneeling position, bowed as low and as gracefully as he could, then left the room.
Outside, he leaned against the wall and gasped for breath. Voldemort had touched him. Touched him. He could still feel those cold fingers on his face. The long index finger stroking his cheek.
But he still wondered—why had Voldemort allowed the magic to change him so? Surely he was powerful enough to stop it?
~I'm Just a Normal Boy~
In his third year, Harry cast his first Unforgiveable curse. It was the most benign of them, in his opinion. But the rush of dark magic that coursed along his skin was like nothing he had felt before that moment.
His victim was Peter Pettigrew. For a Gryffindor, the boy was incredibly spineless. Harry thought he would have made a better Slytherin. Severus disagreed, thinking Hufflepuff would be more suitable.
But what Harry learned about Peter that night convinced him that the cowardly boy would never have made it into the house of the loyal.
"Imperio!" Harry whispered joyfully in the dark corridor. His target stiffened, stopping in place at once as he took control of the boy's mind.
His instructions were simple, "Spy on James Potter, Remus Lupin, and Sirius Black. Report back to me everything of importance."
He didn't know then that he had provided Peter with a loophole that would allow him to report only the things that Peter found important, should the boy have any capability of resisting the curse. But it hardly mattered.
When Peter returned to share his findings with Harry and Severus, they learned of six new pranks that the Marauders had in the works, one ambush planned on them for the following day, and a secret plan for Peter, Sirius, and James to become illegal animagi so they could accompany Remus on the full moons in relative safety.
By then, the thin thread of dark magic that connected Harry to Peter had wreaked havoc on Harry's body. He was a jittery, shaking mess from the constant influx of his chosen drug. Lucius had noticed earlier in the afternoon, and warned him how dangerous such a condition could be—often resulting in death if the wizard in question was not yet accustomed to the levels of dark magic.
So, after Peter had reported, Harry released the older boy from the curse, and allowed Severus to take over and ensure that the Gryffindor didn't tattle on them.
But quite a different thing happened.
"P-please! D-don't h-hurt me! I won't tell a living soul! I swear it on my magic!" Peter cowered against the far wall of the classroom where they had met. At his words, a soft flash of magic blinded them all and settled around Peter's wrist like a line of silver glitter before fading away.
Severus lowered his ready wand and sneered at the other boy. "Coward," he spat.
As one, Harry and Severus turned to go.
"W-wait!" Peter called them back.
Harry looked over his shoulder and saw that Peter had one hand outstretched toward them, as though they were his last salvation. "What do you want now?"
"I-I c-can be useful to you!" Peter cried. "Y-you want to k-know what my friends are going to do b-before they do it?"
They turned around and faced the sniveling fourth year together. Peter looked nervous, wringing his hands, but not very afraid considering what he was offering to them.
"What do you want in return?" Severus finally asked. Surely no one was fool enough to offer something without wanting something in return.
"P-protection!" Peter cried, looking at the door fearfully as though his friends might come tumbling inside at any moment. "I'll spy on a-anyone you like, if you promise I'll be s-safe from the D-d-dark L-lord."
Harry stiffened. "What makes you think we can promise that?"
"Y-you're Slytherins…" Peter trailed off, as though that explained everything.
To a Gryffindor, perhaps it did.
Harry looked at Severus and nodded. His friend nodded in return.
"We'll see what we can do," Severus answered for them both. "In the meantime, just report to us about the other Marauders."
Peter started, as though surprised that they knew that name.
"Run along, little Peter," Harry whispered dangerously.
Like the rat he was, Peter Pettigrew scampered from the room as fast as he could.
"We'll need to contact Lucius," Severus said then.
Harry nodded and followed his best friend back to the Slytherin dungeons.
~And Still I'm Searching For Something~
"You should confess this year," Harry told Severus just before Christmas in his fourth year.
"I can't," Severus said at once. "She only thinks of me as her friend, still. And Potter keeps poking about whenever I try to spend any time alone with her."
Harry frowned, wondering why his friend was still running. "Well, you should. That's all I'm saying."
Severus nodded, then leaned in closer to say, "How is yours coming?"
Harry understood what he meant at once—ever since Peter had revealed the Marauder's attempts to become animagi, they had been studying the transformation as well. They were quite a bit behind their enemies, starting so late, but they had both managed a partial transfiguration after a year of intense study.
"I'm something with black hair," Harry whispered. "And big."
Severus snorted. "Black feathers. I'm leaning towards either crow or raven, but the differences are so subtle I'm having some trouble."
"Let me help next time," Harry offered. "I might notice something that you can't while partially transformed."
Severus nodded and went back to the essay he had been writing. It was his OWLS year, and they hadn't been able to spend as much time together as Harry was used to.
Sighing, Harry closed the book he had been flipping through and stood, stretching for a long moment.
"Why don't you go see if the Knights are learning anything interesting?" Severus murmured distractedly, flipping through his potions book to check some fact.
Harry nodded and crossed the common room to the passage wall. There was a classroom nearby that the group of dark arts students used to practice. Lucius had given them a name the year he graduated, saying that the Dark Lord himself had suggested it. From then on, they used the term 'Knights of Walpurgis' when discussing meetings where they might be overheard.
Entering the room, Harry gasped at the strong feeling of dark magic in the air. He was beyond the level of most of the current students already, but he still popped in occasionally when they were teaching something he hadn't learned yet. Looking around, he realized that they must be studying the various dark cuttings curses—the kind that couldn't be clotted or healed with a simple spell, but required specific potions and chants.
The only really interesting thing in the room, were the students. He was used to seeing Regulus there, but now Barty Crouch Jr. had joined as well. That was surprising, given that Barty's father was looking quite popular for the next Ministerial election.
Even better, Barty had a veritable cloud of dark magic lingering around him as he panted with breath. The practice dummy across the floor from him was hanging in tatters from the strength of his spells.
Harry approached the other boy, and had to bite his lip when he entered that cloud of magic. It was strong—stronger than anyone else's he had felt among the Knights except those who already bore the dark mark.
"Barty!" Harry cried, grinning with one hand outstretched.
Barty jumped, spun around and pointed his wand at Harry, his tongue darting out to wet his lips in the same moment. "H-Harry?"
"Yes, it's me," Harry smiled, lowering the hand that Barty hadn't shaken. "I know it's been a long time—I haven't had the chance to speak to you since the train in first year. I didn't know you'd joined our little study group."
Barty slowly lowered his wand and gave Harry a tremulous smile. "I kept wishing for three years that I still had you and Regulus to talk to. The other Ravenclaws are all right, I guess, but none of them would understand something like this." He gestured to the room at large to demonstrate what he meant.
Harry nodded, putting his hands in his pockets. "I know. Want to show me what you've been working on?"
An eager gleam lit Barty's eyes, and he instantly spun to shoot a reparo at the dummy. Then he was off, flinging dark curse after dark curse at the human form with barely a pause between spell changes. The dark cloud that had begun to dissipate when Harry approached quickly coalesced into a cloud of heady sparks—nearly invisible to the eye except in Barty's immediate vicinity.
Harry closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. It was delicious. Barty's magic was delicious. He hadn't felt anything so fine since his encounter with the Dark Lord the year before. Added to that was the fact that Barty was very good with his spellwork. He couldn't have been participating in many meetings before this, or Harry would have known already. Which meant he had either taught himself, was a genius with dark magic, or he really was just that suited to Ravenclaw.
Watching the other boy flinging spells with a wild grin on his face, Harry felt a stirring deep in the pit of his stomach. He felt himself growing hard, and shifted his robes to hide any obvious bulge. He wanted to be closer to that magic. It was like the Dark Lord all over again. But this time, he felt a stirring at just the thought of being closer to Barty. Skin to skin.
Flushing, Harry looked away from the Ravenclaw and pulled his hands from his pockets, wrapping his robe more securely around himself and crossing his arms.
Perhaps it was time to visit Lucius again.
~Always By Your Side~
"So, what does it mean?" Harry asked, having just explained his feelings regarding Barty Crouch Jr.
Lucius set down his glass of firewhiskey with a soft chink of the ice inside. He was seated in a red leather wing-backed armchair near the fire. "You know what it means, Harry," he chided. "That's why you came to me."
Harry shrugged uncomfortably, looking around the room. It was Lucius' bedroom, chosen as their meeting point at the Malfoy heir's insistence.
"What is it you really want from me tonight, Harry?" Lucius asked. One elegant white hand lifted the glass of liquor to swirl it around inside the fine crystal. In the firelight, it glowed amber. It reminded Harry of Barty's eyes.
"I-I don't know."
"Hmm." Lucius hummed. He stood, leaving the glass behind, and approached Harry where he stood in the middle of the thick carpet at the center of the room. "Yes. You do." Lucius raised his left hand, his arm delightfully bared and showing off the dark mark. His hand touched Harry's face and then drifted higher, threading through messy black tresses.
Harry closed his eyes and subconsciously licked his lips in anticipation. "Narcissa?"
Lucius grabbed the hair on the back of Harry's head and tugged lightly. "We aren't married yet. Not until the summer. And I have a promise to keep to you."
Warm lips brushed Harry's cheek, just beneath the scar that divided his left eye. He shivered. "You don't have to…"
"Open your eyes," Lucius demanded.
Harry obeyed, and shivered at the grey storm that brewed there. Lucius' eyes were full of heat lightning.
"I want to," Lucius whispered. His other arm snaked around Harry's waist and pulled them flush against one another. "I want you."
Gasping, Harry gave himself up to whatever Lucius wanted to teach him. They had all of Christmas break to cover the basics, after all.
~The Clouds Above Opened Up, and Let it Out~
"Ah! Harry!" Barty's hands clenched in Harry's hair.
Harry hummed lightly, still moving his head. He was kneeling on the floor of the broom cupboard they had taken to using, completely intent on pleasuring his partner.
"I-I…"
Harry moved faster, and sucked harder. With a soft cry, Barty stiffened and Harry relished in the bitter liquid that filled his mouth, swallowing every drop.
Glowing with satisfaction, Harry gently kissed Barty's exposed pelvic bone and nuzzled his face against the warm skin. Barty looked down at him with a soft smile and ran one hand lovingly through Harry's hair.
"Do you want me to…?" Barty trailed off.
Harry shook his head, gently tucking his lover back into his pants and rising. The soft peck on the lips that he had intended turned into a full-on snogging session. Neither of them could keep his hands to himself, and they accidentally knocked over an empty bucket on the floor during their ministrations.
Unfortunately, the loud bang of the metal hitting the stone floor occurred at the same moment as the Marauders passing by the door.
Harry was blinded when their dark alcove was suddenly opened, immediately removing his hands from under Barty's shirt. Barty was a little slower to remove his hands from their death grip on Harry's butt cheeks.
When they saw who it was, of course, they both paled and shrunk back into the closet.
James, the one who had happened to open the door, looked more than a little green. He was staring at Harry as though his brother had two heads.
Sirius just looked shocked, while Remus was mostly indifferent. Peter stood at the back of the group, glancing anxiously between his 'friends' and Harry as though not sure which side to choose.
"You're a pouf!" James finally exclaimed.
"Don't be ridiculous," Harry snapped back, straightening his uniform. "It has nothing to do with sexual preference."
"That's just an excuse for being a pouf," Sirius sneered, disgusted.
"Leave, Crouch," James ordered the Ravenclaw. "We have no quarrel with you."
Barty looked at Harry uncertainly, waiting for his lover's nod before running off down the corridor. With any luck, he would go to find Snape or some of the other Knights and Harry wouldn't be too badly injured by the time they found him.
"Come along, little pouf," Sirius snarled, grabbing Harry's arm. "Perhaps it's time we reeducated you properly."
The only thing waiting for Harry when he woke up in the hospital wing the next day was a letter from his father.
You are disowned. Never return to the Potter Estate. I trust you have 'friends' who will gladly take you in for a good fuck.
~Lord Potter
Any lingering affection Harry might have held for his family crumbled. They would die. He would kill them with his own hands.
-o-0-o-
A/N: I'm putting this here because it never ended up in the fic! Harry's animagi form is a horse with a white blaze down his nose. Sev's is a raven, abnormally large for his size.