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Weapon (Possession Chapter LXVII)
Chapter XVI - Wanting
Elliot quivered, his teeth rattling together loudly as he drew his blanket around him tighter. It had been three days since the Dark Lord had attacked, and since then there had been nothing but silence from the dark forces. His wand had been returned to him. Dumbledore had given it back with a flourish and a wink to indicate that he had already erased those sections of the 'interview' that were for the Order only.
That wasn't bothering him though.
The memories were.
He'd managed to convince himself that what he'd seen was only fictional. A pretty act by the Dark Lord to draw him in, to show him the strength and speed of the dark forces but now the coroner-wizard report was lying in front of him and he was remembering everything.
In the instant after He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named apparated there had been silence as the gathered wizards looked at each other. They were alive. There was a general feeling of shock permeating through them. Truly, none of them had expected it to be over so easily or so painlessly. Most had been making their peace with God as quietly as they could before he vanished. The wizard the Dark Lord had questioned shuddered, crawling forward to look at Tidius' body. A quick check of the pulse confirmed the Deputy Minister's death, before with shaking hands, the wizard pulled back the left sleeve, rolling it up to past the elbow.
"That's not possible!" He hissed as the flung himself backwards.
Burnt into Moulton's skin, grinning up at them with shocking clarity was the Death's Head, the snake tongue lolling from bony jaws, undulating down the Deputy Minister's arm. The Mark itself was black, an intricate tattoo that left out no detail but the skin around it was burnt red, evidence of the ferocity of the Dark Lord's strike. Tidius had arched backwards, his body stiff and the foam on his lips was only now beginning to pop. His whole posture bespoke the terror he had felt before he died.
"It's not possible! It's not possible! It's not possible!" The wizard was whispering as a litany as he shivered badly, rocking back and forth, eyes staring blankly at the Minister's Dark Mark. "It's not possible, but you're seeing it," one of the more callous wizards said.
"It's not possible," another agreed with the first. "Just the other day, Tidius came in dressed like a Muggle. He had short sleeves on, and we'd have noticed a Dark Mark. And after the attack we all underwent scans." "I could have..." the first wizard stuttered, "I was going to..." He gagged. "I was going to die for him..." Eyes opened wide as the realisation came crashing down on him. "I was going to..."
"What did You-Know-Who whisper to you?"
"He... he told me... No..." the memory brought a new realisation. It was obvious. With Tidius' execution he should have known but the shock was holding back his thought processes and it was only now, when the question was asked did the Dark Lord's amusement make complete sense. He had enjoyed his refusal but no doubt, somewhere, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was enjoying the aching sickness the wizard was now feeling. "He told me 'Be sure it's worth it before you die.'"
The response brought a shudder from all the gathered wizards. It could so easily have been them. They would have been sure, they would have been true to the man they thought was one of the Ministry's finest.
They would have been dead.
All for a lie.
They'd spoken about Moulton's body because it was easier to bear than the other but slowly their gaze shifted to the Death Eater who had been identified as Amir. Above them the shimmering dome that was the Dark Lord's displacement shield began to fade but the Dark Mark still glittered solidly. They had no idea what the new symbol meant.
A few of the more astute wizards began to look around, preparing to obliviate Muggles if required, or to duck if Auror's appeared, charms cast as they expected the worst. One or two compassionate wizards had begun to move through the wounded, doing what they could until trained medi-staff appeared.
But for the most part their attention was beginning to focus on the Death Eater. If you ignored the left side of his chest, and the pool of blood spread... no, there was no way you could ignore it. His death had been brutal in the extreme. Even the justification 'but he was a Death Eater' was insufficient to justify, to accept the violence of his passing.
One youngish wizard, less squeamish than the rest approached Amir slowly. The movement was skittish, as if he expected the man to jump at him at any moment but curiosity was slowly overwhelming horror. "How did..." you could hear the frown in his voice, "How did he burn him?"
Bryant had wondered that at the time... He knew now. The words had been scribed for all to see. They were now public record and it only scared him further, they made the inhumanity of the Dark Lord all that more real.
'Victim suffered extreme blunt force trauma to the left side of the chest cavity. First thru to the eighth rib were fragmented into multiple sections. Other ribs fractured severely due to trauma. Right ribs were also fractured.'
That was the bit he expected... as were the details of which rib had punctured the skin, which the lungs and so forth... The coroner-wizard had been very thorough with his examination. He had refused to estimate the Dark Lord's grip strength simply because there was not enough evidence. The ribs had been snapped like twigs so Voldemort was at least that strong. How much more though was a matter of conjecture.
Elliot knew that though. He had felt the inhumane strength when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had gripped his shoulder. It didn't concern him. There were several potions and charms - Re'em blood was most potent - that could enhance physical strength and there was always the Muggle way of working out, doing weights. It was the explanation for the burning that chilled him.
'Cause of death is indeterminate. Blunt force trauma could have caused death, however in addition to the visible wounds, victim was suffering from case of extreme poisoning. Poison was basilisk venom, introduced to the body via the chest region as evidenced by the severe burning on epidermis and other tissues.
'All internal organs showed verification of the poisoning and many have been destroyed. While the ingression point of the poison is obvious the means of transferral is not...'
It was... it was all too obvious... The Dark Lord wasn't human.
It wasn't his strength. That, while not normal, could be copied.
It wasn't his mind. He was sick, true, but such sickness was known in others.
It was his body.
They'd all assumed the Dark Lord had re-constituted a human body...
He hadn't...
He had admitted it himself that his body had come from a serpent. But such transmutation...
Animagus transformations were possible...
But to sustain human life in a non human form...
He had said he wasn't human though...
Elliot shuddered, his teeth rattling so hard he thought he might break them.
-Are you there?-
Bryant recognised the voice. It was oddly echoing as Dumbledore's mental presence was boosted by Fawkes. It was not intrusive and this was not something they did often. The stain was too much. Reaching from Hogwarts to London was a stretch, especially when contacting one who's mind was in turmoil like his.
-You're in my head,- Elliot replied with the line he always used in this situation. -Where else would I be?-
-Your distress is evident to the Order.-
He gasped. -I'm sorry. I didn't realise I was projecting.-
-We've cut it off now,- Dumbledore reassured him as Fawkes sent a pure note of courage into him. -Do you want to discuss it with anyone?-
-It's just not possible!- Elliot lashed out mentally.
-Unfortunately it is,- Albus said steadily, understanding Bryant's frustrations. He'd suspected Tom had been altering his body fifteen years ago but he'd never been able to prove it. The coroner-wizard's report and the information he'd just told Elliot had confirmed it. Before his death, he had been serpent like, now he was a serpent.
-What? How?-
-It is not anything any sane wizard would do to themselves but Tom has not been sane for a long time. He was, even in the past, experimenting with altering his form, in an effort to attain immortality.-
-But... but that's just sick.-
-Tom is sick but his sickness is dangerous because he has the power to hurt others.-
Elliot nodded, even though he knew Dumbledore couldn't see the gesture. The presence of Fawkes in his mind was calming him. This really was only his problem. He shouldn't be troubling others with it. -Do you want me to write that article? If the Order doesn't want it, I'll find a way to say no to the Editor.-
-You might find a way to say no to the Editor, but you won't find a way to say no to Tom, he's expecting it,- Dumbledore replied. -I will not risk that. Just tell it as a story of what happened.-
-Even with what he wants?-
-Include everything you can. I'll make sure there are some other articles in the paper as well, to balance everything out.-
-Okay.-
-Elliot, every member of the Order is important. Hogwarts is open.-
-I understand,- Bryant nodded as he felt the ancient wizard and phoenix withdraw from his mind, Fawkes giving him a light mental caress.
Bryant looked around as he was once again alone. With everything that had happened, it really shouldn't have surprised him that the Dark Lord was quite literally inhuman in more than just actions.
Harry paced back and forth, his feet silent on the stone of the dormitory. The others were asleep. A long day with an OWL had meant that they had all fallen asleep early. He didn't mind that. They needed their rest. What he wanted now wasn't rest...
He'd read the articles detailing Voldemort's attack on the Ministry building with a carefully hidden smile. The building meant nothing but the attack was pleasing. They were moving forward. However slowly, they were beginning to move forward.
A year by the shadows estimation was certainly better than the twenty seven years of fighting it would take if he remained with his beloved but the few weeks he had been away already felt like a life time.
And damn it... he never thought he'd feel this, he was horny.
He wanted the taste of Voldemort on his tongue, the feel of white skin under his hands and the incredibly sweet but tight feeling his lover invoked in him. He wanted to be in the Dark Lord and he wanted the Dark Lord in him.
Harry groaned, realising that his thoughts weren't helping...
-Problems?-
-Yes, damn it!-
The shadows laughed but then smoothed themselves around him sympathetically.
-After everything with Heprah and the others... I never thought... I never believed... I'd want someone. But I want him...- -We know, Master, we know.- They opened themselves to him, allowing him to feel the echo of their need, the need they had felt for centuries when longing for a Master. It was infinite and made his longing seem childish. -No, Master, no... there is nothing childish about your desire. We showed you only so that you know we understand.-
Harry nodded as he got back into bed, curling himself up under the covers. Even if he couldn't sleep, he should at least rest. -Tell me a story?-
-What?- He could hear the outrage in their tone.
-Talk to me, so that I don't think of him... or this need.-
-No.-
-Why not?-
-There are only a few stories, a few of our histories that are worth telling but we aren't ready to tell them to you yet, Master. Talk to him instead.-
-Huh?-
-Just reach out to your beloved, you should be able to reach him.-
Harry's emerald eyes narrowed. He could reach the Dark Lord, but he hadn't wanted to since he was almost certain Fawkes would be able to tell.
-The phoenix is busy.-
-You guys are busy as well, aren't you?-
-Yes.-
-This time, I'll let you off,- Harry said.
-Next time, we will tell you,- the shadows said before they mentally bowed at him and vanished.
Harry closed his eyes as he focused on his beloved. His first movement was a tentative brushing up against him. There was a surprised flinch before the Dark Lord's mind opened to him.
-Harry.-
-Voldemort.-
Harry sighed and poured his desires into his beloved. There was a mental chuckle and a caress of understanding but he was slightly suspicious when he felt nothing returned. Quickly, Harry grabbed at a thought Dark Lord was hiding.
A wave of longing and some very graphic images of him flooded into his mind. He licked his lips in anticipation.
-The saying that anticipation enhances enjoyment when you get your desire is a fallacy,- Voldemort said. -But,- he added with a wicked mental smile, -It does give you time to plan.-
-Heh!- Harry smiled as he flicked through the images again. They were arousing, true but now that he was in contact with his beloved, the urge was more pleasurable than frustrating. Besides the Dark Lord definitely had an active imagination, not only where the pictures graphic but he was amazed at some of the positions the Serpent Lord thought were possible.
A lot of them though involved a fair amount of blood.
-I always liked the idea of you splattered with the traitor's blood,- came the quiet explanation.
Harry groaned again at the wave of desire that flooded through him. -Any particular person's?-
-I had thought Lucius' but his is too crude.-
-You can use Draco's once we're finished,- the shadows said softly before they withdrew again.
-You gave the brat to them?- Harry could sense the raised eye brow.
-Hmmhum, although I rather like the idea of using Fawkes'.-
Voldemort gave a rich laugh... -Keep that up and I will come early for you.-
-Then I think I'll keep it up. Can we try this one first?- Harry flicked an image at his beloved. They were sitting, the Dark Lord was behind him, long fingered hands resting on his hips, guiding his movement. His head was thrown back and there was blood smeared on his chest, arms and legs, almost like the stripes on a tiger, or primeval markings of ownership. Voldemort's skin was mottled and he recognised the rippling diamond patterns that decorated any number of snakes.
Voldemort hissed in longing, his mental presence caressing his little one. -Providing we can do this one after?- This time they were twined so closely together that it was only through skin tone that Harry could tell who was who. They were both splattered in blood and their motion had smeared it all over the other. Their mouths were locked together, arms wrapped around the other and legs tangled in a mess. Harry recognised the imperialistic patterns of a basilisk on his beloved this time.
Harry laughed. The mental sound clear and joyful. He licked his lips in anticipation, holding back the knowledge that he would somehow be seeing the Dark Lord on his birthday. -I look forward to it.-
-Then I will see to it that the Ministry falls.-
-And I will to it to make sure all the dark knows who their Lord is.-
-You are our Lord,- the shadows whispered to Harry privately.
-Then you will obey me and see to it that my beloved remains safe,- Harry returned.
-We will see to it, but never forget that you alone are our Lord.-
-I won't.-
-'Know that I will come for you Harry. Know that nothing will stand in my way. You are my little one, Harry. You are my Phoenix crested Basilisk and I will come for you. Wait for me, my little one, wait for me. You are mine,'- the Dark Lord quoted the lines to him with a smile.
-I will wait for you,- Harry murmured as he felt sleep finally claim him.
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