You know I could be just like you

[HARRY JAMES POTTER]

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ON THE GROUND I LAY MOTIONLESS IN PAIN
I CAN SEE MY LIFE FLASHING BEFORE MY EYES

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It was a chilly day... but considering the time of year, Harry was willing to say that it was pretty nice out. It still required him to wear the school cloak over his uniform, but it wasn't cold enough that he was rubbing his hands up his arms to create friction to stay warm. And seeing how the sun was out... yes, it felt rather nice out in deed.

Harry was enjoying another one of his free periods. He had actually had all his homework up to date thanks to the help of Hermione; and was currently thinking about his lessons he had with Dumbledore every so often. His scar had rarely bothered him this year so far, and the Headmaster assumed that it was due to Voldemort using Occlumency against him. Dumbledore guessed that Voldemort feared the connection that was between the two of them. Although it made Harry his greatest weapon, it also meant he would be victim to all the emotions Harry felt; including the one he felt so forgein with. Love.

Harry easily remembered the pain that had consumed his mind and body as Voldemort had tried to possess him last year. It felt as if a Giant serpant had constricted around his body, to the point where Harry hadn't been sure where he ended and the giant beast began. He had been so sure he was going to do that night. And a small part of him had excepted that... wanted it. He would have been with Sirius and his parents again. He remembered the love that had filled him at that thought... and how suddenly the creature had released him.

Unconsciously, he reached up with his right hand and lightly touched the thin scar on his forehead. Frowning slightly he dropped his hands, taking a deep breath. He was curious about his connection, and wondered if he'd be able to access it on his own. Closing his eyes, he focused deep within himself, trying to find something that would show him how to use his connection.

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STATUS: Complete
TAGGED: voldemort
WORDS: 342
OUTFIT: Hogwarts Uniform
LYRICS: Time of dying - 3 Days Grace
CREDIT: CHELS!? For BANNER
RETRO GLAMOUR ! @ CAUTION 2.0

[lord voldemort]

He sat ... but he was not alone this time. Normally his days spent in the Malfoy manor were dull and pointless, always pacing alone to await news that could either please or dissatisfy him. The most irking of all was that he was seemingly powerless while being cooped up in a rotting manor. There was only so much that could be done and it was becoming increasingly difficult for the Dark Lord to watch his Death Eaters fail when he could easily complete certain tasks with his own refreshed two hands. Thinking about it made him irritable, which was how he felt at the current moment. Harry Potter was one story, but Voldemort knew well enough that his time would come; there were bigger and better things to concern himself with, such as the Ministry of Magic but most important was Albus Dumbledore. The old man had to die and Voldemort was not foolish enough to think that he could fully succeed in all of his plans without the man's death. He was old and frail, but even Voldemort was not low enough to underestimate the power within such a fragile body. In any case, he felt that Draco would not fail him and if he did, then perhaps it would be better to continue his war without the boy - one less nuisance, really. Snape and Bellatrix would handle everything and the world would be as it had once been - completely and dominantly his. Nobody would be able to resist him once the great Dumbledore was silenced forever, and Harry Potter would be weakened of his greatest ally. Yes, it all seemed to be panning out perfectly.

He sat in the living room in a large, comfortable, black leather chair. Two Death Eaters were at his feet, silently on her knees with their heads bent, eying the floor. They did not speak, which was acceptable for Voldemort did not give them permission. They were still, which was acceptable for Voldemort did not give them permission. The power was joyous. Bellatrix paced around, however, which was acceptable because she was an extremely useful tool for him and having her cooped up in Azkaban for so long certainly did its damage. Nevertheless, he would allow her to take whatever revenge she deemed fit for the occasion. His forefinger tapped on the arm of the chair, wondering where Nagini was as Bellatrix continued to spew this and that. "We will kill him, my lord," she was saying, circling around his chair and stepping lightly towards the two kneeling men. "We will be kill, and these two bafoons are going to help you do it." She seemed excited by the prospect of killing again, and Voldemort's snake-like eyes penetrated through the two men in question.
"Is that so." He barely needed to question it, for they would be killed otherwise. Both men bowed towards the ground and kissed the hems of Voldemort's robes before resuming their former stance.
"They will, my lord!" Bellatrix hummed happily. "With him dead, you will be invincible, master." Voldemort stirred, leaning back in his chair and inhaling deeply with pleasure at the thought. Seeing this pleasure in her master, Bellatrix became more confident in her pacing, almost skipping.

[/blockquote][/blockquote]

[HARRY JAMES POTTER]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
ON THE GROUND I LAY MOTIONLESS IN PAIN
I CAN SEE MY LIFE FLASHING BEFORE MY EYES

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At first, Harry was pretty sure what nothing was going to happen. He sat there for Merlin only knew how long, his eyes closed, sitting on the cold tone bench, his back laying against the castle wall. He tried to make his breaths as deep and even as possible, and tried to clear his mind of all thought. But the problem was, he didn’t know what he was looking for. He had no idea what it was that he was supposed to search for when using the connection. Normally when he was granted the bits of information from the mind of Tom Riddle, it had been because the Dark Lord had been feeling an extreme of one type of emotion or another. He had witnessed the Heir of Slytherin murder innocent people… he had watched as he tortured his own men, and he even felt the effects of his anger or his joy. Each had a different effect on Harry; depending on what it was he was feeling or seeing.

So it had always been Riddle who had unconsciously showed the pieces of himself and his actions to Harry. Harry had never gone and tried this before. And why would he? He had no desire to see what twisted sort of entertainment the self-proclaimed Greatest Sorcerer in the world was attending to. But it was obvious that Voldemort knew how to use the connection between their minds. A connection that obviously had something to do with his Scar. He had a feeling Professor Dumbledore was aware what exactly was going on; but he would tell Harry when the time was right. But Harry wasn’t going to wait that long. Voldemort had already used the connection to his advantage, and Harry wasn’t going to sit around and wait for him to do it again. Maybe this time, Harry could get some type of information and give it to the Order.

He was just starting to give up when he noticed that the sounds of the wind vanished, and the chill of the cool November outdoors was good as well. He was also aware that he wasn’t sitting on the cold, hard stone of the bench. Instead, he was seated in an extremely comfortable leather chair. There were two people kneeling on the ground at his feet. Neither moved nor spoke, and this pleased him greatly. He hadn’t given them permission to do either, and they would be very sorry to do anything out of turn if the consequences of such actions were in his favor. There was a fourth body in the room, although this one was moving, speaking. He allowed her. He knew she would forever be faithful to him. And her time in Azkaban had damaged her irreversibly. Yes, he would allow he to do as she wanted for the moment. But he would make sure she stayed in place.

"We will kill him, my lord. We will be kill, and these two buffoons are going to help you do it.”

He was aware of her circling his chair, moving closer to the two kneeling men in front of him. “Is that so.” it wasn’t a question. He didn’t need to ask questions, for if not than the punishment would be most severe. The two men before him made their first movements, bowing their heads and kissing the hems of his robes before moving back to their earlier positions.

"They will, my lord! With him dead, you will be invincible, master."

This pleased him. And he moved, leaning back in his chair, letting his pleasure show on his face. At the sign of his obvious approval, his most faithful servant, Bellatrix Lestrange, because to quicken her pace…. Skipping almost.

And then, the room was starting to dissolve, as if he were seeing it through a badly tuned radio. He was once again aware of the cold, hard bench beneath him, and the wind that was caressing his face coldly. No! He couldn’t lose the connection.. He was there! He was watching everything from Voldemort’s point of view, and he was losing it quickly. He focused more on the room, pleased to see that they and their occupants were coming into clearer focus, and the Hogwarts Grounds around him vanished once more.

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STATUS: Complete
TAGGED: voldemort
WORDS: 712
OUTFIT: Hogwarts Uniform
LYRICS: Time of dying - 3 Days Grace
CREDIT: CHELS!? For BANNER
RETRO GLAMOUR ! @ CAUTION 2.0

[lord voldemort]

The Dark Lord took pleasure in pain, but was unaccustomed to experiencing it himself. He had always considered himself immensely impervious to the very meaning, never once having experienced emotion pain and usually hindered the efforts of physical through substantial fits of rage. Still, he had been blessed with a new body that seemed still frail despite his magical advantage and he would not give it up for the entire unicorn’s blood in the world. Sharing a body was simply disgraceful but he was not foolish enough to deny himself what favourable advantage he could receive to gain strong again. Recently, his head seemed to pound with various ideas, thoughts, courses of actions, pleasures, disappointments, and the like. There had been a few occasions where he found himself suffering from some unforeseen headache. Twas another reason why being kept in the dark was so beneficial – physically, anyway – for the chance of developing a headache was scarce in comparison.

Voldemort watched the two men as Bellatrix continued to praise him on his good work and ideas. There was something awfully suspicious about one of them, as still as they knelt before him. He kept a penetrating stare on that man in particular, never once blinking or wavering. The man could feel the stare and attempted to avoid it, but such curiosity killed the cat. The moment the man’s eyes flickered towards the Dark Lord’s, the Dark Lord saw everything. With amazing speed, Voldemort penetrated through the man’s mind like a warm knife through butter. The man called out, clutching the sides of his head and forever silencing Bellatrix, who abruptly stopped in her pacing and watched with a smirk on her face. Images of the man’s memory glided swiftly through Voldemort’s for further analyzing. – images of the man’s family, his cute red-haired daughter with freckles, his elderly mother, his beautiful wife. Images of their hidden shack became relevant and the man had dealings with the Ministry – he was a spy. Voldemort stood up abruptly and released the man, irritation flowing through him.

“My lord?” Bellatrix waited anxiously, looking from her master to the panting man on the ground and back.
“You have brought me a traitor, Bellatrix.” His voice was even and calm, which only made Bellatrix all the more nervous.
“M-Master … I swear I didn’t know.” Voldemort simply raised his hand to silence her.
“Perhaps … it is better this way.” Relieved, Bellatrix watched her master look down menacingly at the man. “Perhaps … we can use this to our advantage – show the Ministry that I cannot be fooled.” Bellatrix cackled happily while the man squirmed with unpleasant pain as Voldemort drilled into his mind once more.

[/blockquote][/blockquote]

[HARRY JAMES POTTER]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
ON THE GROUND I LAY MOTIONLESS IN PAIN
I CAN SEE MY LIFE FLASHING BEFORE MY EYES

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Normally whenever he shared Voldemort's thoughts and feelings, it was difficult for The Boy Who Lived to distinguish who was who and who was feeling what. Their personalities seemed to mingle into one being; so that there was no more Harry Potter or Lord Voldemort. There was only the onebeing, who's immense pleasure came from the pain and suffering of others. And this scared Harry more than anything. Was he only experiencing things in such a manner because he, Harry, was trying to see from Voldemort's point of view? If Voldemort were to try and see from Harry's, would he feel what Harry felt? Or was Harry's greatest fear coming to fruitation. Was Harry becoming Bad, his very soul being corrupted by the mysterious connection he knew nothing about.

They were all questions he had had since his previous year. Sirius had tried to shed some light onto the picture when Harry had voiced his fear for the first and only time. The world wasn't divided into Death Eaters and Order members. There was a bit of each in everyone. But, didn't that mean that Voldemort in a sense was correct as well? The Dark Lord himself has specifically told Harry in his first year that there was no good nor evil. Only power, and those to weak to seek it. Did that mean that Voldemort's words held some meaning of truth? And that good and evil were only distinctions made by those who were either to cowardly or unable to see the difference.

There were so many difference this time around as Harry watched from Voldemort's point of view. While it was still difficult to distinguish where Harry began and where the Dark Lord began, he was still aware of his surroundings at Hogwarts. He wasn't sure if that was going to give him away or not to the older, more experienced wizard. But the more he tried to concentrate on Voldemort's surroundings rather than his own, he felt himself slipping from Hogwarts, the castle once again dimming to the background. Now instead he was once again staring at the two men at his feet, one of them not seeming... right to him. And realizing what Voldemort was going to do, Harry tried to pull back from his connection, not wanting nor needing the on slaught that came with the man's memories as Voldemort read his mind.

It was a painful experience... one Harry was only to familiar with. A gasp of pain escaped him, his eyes squeezing shut, as his hands gripped the edge of the stone bench tightly. Memories flashed before his mind's eye... memories that were not his own. images of the man’s family, his cute red-haired daughter with freckles, his elderly mother, his beautiful wife. Images of their hidden shack became relevant and the man had dealings with the Ministry. A spy... Bellatrix had brought him a Spy.

“My lord?”

“You have brought me a traitor, Bellatrix.” his voice was calm and even. And from any other mortal, this would have been comforting. But coming from him, it could mean a number of things. He did not forgive easily...

“M-Master … I swear I didn’t know.”

He simply raised his hand to silence her; his mind whirling around the possibilities this man... this spy could offer. “Perhaps … it is better this way. Perhaps … we can use this to our advantage – show the Ministry that I cannot be fooled.” He was once again drilling into the man's memories, searching... And harry was in pain as he watched the man's memories flash in his head.

He was Harry Potter...
He was The man withering in pain as his life flashed before his eyes...
He was Voldemort seeking information that would be useful...

His hands shot up to his head, gripping it in pain. "Stop.... stop it..." he growled out under his breath, his face scruntched up in pain as he tried to figure out who he was. Maybe it hadn't been such a good idea to do this alone... maybe he should have done it when someone was around... someone who he could have trusted to help him out; whether by pulling him out of his connection, or to hold him down before he hurt himself.

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STATUS: Complete
TAGGED: voldemort
WORDS: 722
OUTFIT: Hogwarts Uniform
LYRICS: Time of dying - 3 Days Grace
CREDIT: CHELS!? For BANNER
RETRO GLAMOUR ! @ CAUTION 2.0

[lord voldemort]

Anybody else might have been angry with their servants if they brought him a traitor, but Voldemort had the tendency to see the better of situations when he was forced to. He watched the writhing man compose himself, breathing heavily. It was difficult for another person to penetrate through Voldemort's mind because he trained himself to perfect when it came to occlumens - he was basically a professional. His skills were equally as efficient as they were in legilimens, Said undercover ministry struggled to get back onto his knees, but he ended up on all fours, attempting to control his breathing. The other man, whom Voldemort did not feel it necessary to question, pulled his wand out from his robes and had it pointed at the man. "I will kill him, my lord, on your order," he hissed. Such actions proved to Voldemort that the man was repulsed and evidently on his side, particularly when the new Death Eater spat a large wad of spit right at the back of the traitor's bowed, hunched head. Amused, Voldemort simply raised his hand calmly and took two steps to approach the man.
"Perhaps later," he said placidly. He looked down at the figure and addressed it. "I will make this plain and quick, since I doubt you will tell me what I want to know." Bellatrix walked up and kept her wand pointed at the man, clearly in rage at having been fooled and embarrassed in front of her omnipotent master. As he was about to shoot his second violent attack of Legilimens, he felt a sudden compassion that almost drove him to stop. It was the oddest sensation and when it came down to it, there was only one possible explanation. Was it possible ... ? But of course, how could it not be? A certain, inward smirk seemed to cross Voldemort internally, not willing to show this to the others in the room.

Harry ... he thought, not needing to associate these thoughts aloud. The only person could hear him and Voldemort was certainly able to tell the difference. So kind of you to join me. Shall you join me on this venture? Without waiting for much of a response, Voldemort dove forcefully back into the man's mind, slicing through his thoughts and memories without compassion so that the man was sent writhing again, clutching either side of his head in agony. Images flashed once more of happy memories with the little red-haired girl, laughing and singing; the visions averted to the man shaking hands with another, then to various activities in the many rooms of the Ministry of Magic. Finally, Voldemort managed to track down what he was interested in learning; through the visions of the man's plans, it seemed that they had been very well thought out. The Ministry believed that if they could penetrate through Bellatrix Lestrange, then they would manage to obtain top secret information on Voldemort's plan. This man knew that he would get caught, but he seemed not to care on the count of revenge - judging by his thoughts and memories, the red-haired girl that Voldemort murdered last week was his beloved niece and he wanted to avenge her by sacrificing himself to the cause and telling the Ministry anything he could figure out. Unfortunately for him, he was not able to tell them much since Voldemort had not divulged much of his plans other than random talk about killing a certain someone. Voldemort did not trust all of his Death Eaters right away and these two were new. While one seemed to be fine, the other was gladly about to be punished for his ridiculous course of action.

"Ah ... I see ..." was all he had to say. He turned around slowly and walked towards his abandoned seat.
"Master?" Bellatrix questioned, unsure how to act in a way that would please him.
"You thought to avenge the death of your niece," he said out loud, almost forgetting that Harry was even present in his mind. Bellatrix let out an involuntary cackle that Voldemort simply ignored.
"You disgusting vermin," the man dared to snap, lunging himself at the Dark Lord while his back was turned. He did not stir, but heard the man grunt after clearly having been kicked in the stomach. He wheezed but recovered as Voldemort turned slowly around to face him. "You'll be ... stopped ... even when I'm dead! he breathed.
"Oh yes ... I have heard that," the Dark Lord responded without much care in his voice. "Who will stop me, do you think? Dumbledore? Or ... perhaps it is the boy who lived that will stop me." He pretended to be thoughtful. What do you think, Harry? Should I spare him? Or should I let him live ... to see if he has a chance ...?

[/blockquote][/blockquote]

[HARRY JAMES POTTER]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
ON THE GROUND I LAY MOTIONLESS IN PAIN
I CAN SEE MY LIFE FLASHING BEFORE MY EYES

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The pain was indescribable. The only time Harry could ever remember the pain being worse than what it was now was when Voldemort returned to the world with his full power intact. Harry had wanted to die right then and there in that Graveyard; his head throbbing from the immense pain that seemed to be emitting from his scar. It had felt like his head was splitting open alongside the mark on his forehead. And Voldemort had laughed as his torture… had enjoyed his pain. And it seemed he was doing so with the man in front of him. And even though Harry wasn’t connected to the man like he was Voldemort, he could still feel the man’s pain. Or at least, he figured this was what the man was feeling. Voldemort’s emotions (if you could call them that) were running high, and as such, it was pain for Harry.

Harry felt sorry for the man kneeling in front of him Voldemort in pain. He already knew what was to come… Voldemort would kill him… He would soon join the little red haired girl in the afterlife; his death would be in vain, having not killed Voldemort or helped to bring him down. Voldemort didn’t know how to show mercy to his enemies. It was something he wasn’t capable of. Sure, he claimed to know it… to show it… But he didn’t. Mercy would have been sparing Harry when he was a baby… Mercy would have been leaving him and his family alone… Mercy would have been to have never killed a human being. No, he didn’t know what Mercy was, regardless of what he said or did. It was something beyond him. For if he’d ever known it… he wouldn’t have been Lord Voldemort. He would have just been Tom Riddle.

Harry… So kind of you to join me. Shall you join me on this venture?

Harry felt the bottom of his stomach drop. So… he knew. Of course, it wasn’t a complete surprise that Voldemort knew he was there… The man seemed to know everything about Harry. Harry was positive if he held up a number behind his back Voldemort would still know. Before he could even get a word in, they were once again assaulting the man’s memories… The little girl was his niece… and he was trying to avenge her… But again, this would be in vain… Voldemort would kill him… The pain in Harry’s skull was vibrating everywhere, bouncing off the inside of his skull…. He wanted it all to stop… He was vaguely aware of slipping off the stone bench, instead sitting on the floor and leaning against it; his hands clutching desperately to his head. He felt unbidden tears leak from his eyes which were clenched shut. He listened to the following conversation… he’d be stopped… His stomach seemed to sink further than it had before. Even Voldemort thought it ridiculous to him, Harry, defeating him. And Harry had to admit… it seemed like a pointless fight. So far, Harry had been lucky. And then Voldemort was addressing him once again.

What do you think, Harry? Should I spare him? Or should I let him live ... to see if he has a chance ...?

Harry’s body froze; his heart pounding painfully in his chest. He was seriously asking him? Why though? Why bother asking? You’ll just kill him either way. You already know my answer… Let him leave there… He’s got no information on you that would prove beneficial to the Ministry… He hasn’t learned anything. he thought. Maybe… Maybe if he kept him talking longer… Maybe he’d let the man live. Perhaps the man could escape with his life if Harry thought of something quickly. Let him walk out of there alive… And let him live. Wouldn’t it be amusing to watch and see how the Ministry blunders at your actions? Isn’t that what you want? Chaos and confusion? he asked mentally, his mouth moving to the words silently.

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STATUS: Complete
TAGGED: voldemort
WORDS: 669OUTFIT: Hogwarts Uniform
LYRICS: Time of dying - 3 Days Grace
CREDIT: CHELS!? For BANNER
RETRO GLAMOUR ! @ CAUTION 2.0

[lord voldemort]

The man was sputtering on the ground. unable to control his trembling. Voldemort continually found it pathetic of easily bravery could be cracked. While this man may have pretended as if his intentions were pure and wise, the realization of everything Voldemort could do to him now seemed to be getting at him, perhaps causing him to rethink his actions. Well, it was certainly too late for that. While no harm had been done because of this man's treachery, Voldemort was lucky enough to have caught him before any real harm could be done. Bellatrix was antsy, unsure of whether or not her master would suddenly punish her out of his cool composure for her idiocy. It was a grave mistake but just seeing her fidget and glance at him nervously seemed to be adequate punishment enough for the time being. The man gathered up what strength he could muster after Voldemort had driven madly through his mind, finding flashes of images that explained everything and that could help Voldemort take down the ministry. The man whimpered but this was promptly ignored as Voldemort felt Harry
Potter in his presence - and yet, the boy was nowhere to be seen. It was through their mysterious mind-connection that the could communicate, yet sometimes it took a moment for Voldemort to realize that Harry was there. Unlike Harry, Voldemort was a master of the mind and could block others quickly. He did not mind Harry being present for this, however, if only to torture him just that much more.

Harry spoke to him through his mind, though Voldemort only found it amusing. First, the boy spoke of how his opinion did not matter in these situations, for obviously he wanted the man to live. The Dark Lord was not foolish enough to think otherwise, but Harry's attitude changed slightly and that was not something he was willing to ignore. Nevertheless, he did not acknowledge this but instead cast a wry, cool glance around the room as if paying attention to the sobbing man on the ground. In reality, he was not paying much attention at all other than focusing on Harry's own train of thought. He sat so still that Bellatrix twitched, seeming unable to keep herself quite as still for so long - perhaps that was why she was constantly pacing around all the time. Chaos and confusion," Voldemort repeated dully. Oh, Harry, do you not understand my intentions at all? He gave an inward snicker. How you wrongly judge me. He sat back, moving for the first time and causing all three of the persons present to cast their gazes upon him. Bellatrix looked more eager than ever but he did not address her right away, which made her antsy still and she looked back at the man, her wand still pointed threateningly at him. The other new Death Eater did not look at all pleased with having to have been associated with this traitor of a newcomer, and Voldemort could feel his shame as he attempted to best Bellatrix in being threatening.

"Just kill me already!" the man shouted. It was so unexpected that Bellatrix jumped but quickly recovered herself, scowling and leaping on top of him, shoving the tip of her wand against his temple. She gave a maniacal cackle as he shouted in pain.
"Oh, to kill you," Voldemort said slowly and calmly. Bellatrix glanced up at her master, grinning wildly with fire in her eyes. "Should I spare your life to send a message to the ministry and conduct ... chaos ... and confusion?" He slowly stood up, causing the real Death Eater to fall back a step. "Shall I punish Bellatrix for bringing me a traitor and almost having my entire operation foiled because of her fatal mistake?" He emphasized 'punished' and 'mistake' to purposely watch Bellatrix crawl from the man, pouting and seemingly more upset with herself, but Voldemort knew that she was so loyal that she would gladly accept any sort of heinous punishment she felt she deserved from him. "Or perhaps ... I can send a different message to the ministry." He sounded thoughtful now rather than angry, but his face remained stern, red eyes sharp.
"It doesn't matter!" the man braved. "Soon enough, Harry Potter wi-" Voldemort did not allow him to finish before casting the torture curse on the man, causing him to writhe and scream again.
"Where is your Harry Potter!?" Voldemort thundered, much to Bellatrix's amusement as she watched the proceedings. The other Death Eater winced but Voldemort paid him no mind and almost forgot that Harry Potter was still even present. He released the curse and allowed the man to compose himself while taking the time to address Harry again.

Oh yes, where are you, Harry Potter? he asked, not expecting an answer. "Bellatrix," he said aloud. She straightened and looked at him, willing to obey any set of instructions. "Have your fun with him." He gave her a cold look and she cackled again, understanding. The man began to plead but it was far too late for that. She leaped on top of him and sunk her sharp, ragged nail into the flesh of his shoulders. He called out, clearly much more was going on that this flesh wound. Voldemort watched without a second thought as the man attempted to squirm away from her grip. This made her laugh and became the ultimate encouragement for her to continue. As the man's screams were mixed with Bellatrix's cold laughter, Voldemort turned to the other Death Eater. "You," he addressed. "Fetch Lucius to me. In fact, bring me the whole Malfoy family." The man bowed and quickly exited the room. Do you really think he does not have information for me? he said to Harry, waiting for the man to return with the three blonde figures.

[/blockquote][/blockquote]

[HARRY JAMES POTTER]

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ON THE GROUND I LAY MOTIONLESS IN PAIN
I CAN SEE MY LIFE FLASHING BEFORE MY EYES

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Harry felt fear course through him. He wasn’t afraid for himself. Far from it actually. While he was at Hogwarts, the most Voldemort could do would be to attack his mind… Of which Harry knew the best way to force him out. While it was true that Harry had attempted… notice that key word: ATTEMPTED… His emotions were to uncontrollable for the young teen to fully grasp the concept. It probably didn’t help that having Snape teach him wasn’t one of Dumbledore’s best moves. He still didn’t see why Dumbledore couldn’t teach him. He figured the Headmaster would be more than capable of such a feat. But he had insisted on Snape. The only thing Harry had learned from those lessons had been that he and Snape were similar in many ways. Of course, Harry had paid dearly for his lack of control. Because he had failed to seal the connection between Voldemort and himself, he had lost his godfather. Voldemort had attempted to possess Harry later that same night in an attempt to weaken Dumbledore, but the moment Harry had thought of his godfather and how he’d soon be joining him… (and his parents)… the moment his heart had filled with Love, Voldemort had been driven out. All Harry had to do, was think of someone he loved, and allow that emotion to wash over him.

Yes, it would be extremely easy to force Voldemort out of his mind. The only thing Harry had to watch out was of whom he thought… If he allowed his emotions for a few certain individuals expose themselves, then Voldemort would just have another Weapon to use against Harry. And he wasn’t willing to give him another weapon. Not when he had so many at his disposal already. And besides, he wasn’t about to force Voldemort out now. He was in a perfect position to get information; regardless of how uncomfortable he was. The cold stone of the bench was pressing painfully against his back, the ground cold and hard underneath him. But still, he ignored this, focusing intently on Voldemort. Wrongly judging him? No, Harry was pretty sure he had the perfect understanding of Voldemort. Just as Voldemort knew he had the perfect understanding of Harry. It was a gift… and a curse of the strange connection between them. The only one who is judging poorly is that man in front of you… even I know how stupid it was to go up against you alone, Harry thought. When the man shouted out to be killed already, Harry jumped slightly, the bench scrapping the skin of his back through his clothing.

Voldemort was contemplating what he was to do with the man… and even Harry, who was currently sharing the Dark Lord’s mind, couldn’t even figure out what he was up to. Harry wasn’t sure if that scare him or not. But he felt his stomach and heart drop further at the man’s next words… And even though Voldemort quickly silenced him, Harry had a feeling that he knew exactly what the man was going to say. But how was he to defeat Voldemort? He was a mere boy of sixteen… As Voldemort caused the Cruciatus Curse on the man, Harry’s scar felt as if it were bursting open; effectively making his head feel like it was splitting in two. A yell escaped him, both physically and mentally as his right hand gripped his scar… an irrational part of him wanting to rip it from his head and through it away.

Oh yes, where are you, Harry Potter?

He knew Voldemort didn’t need nor expected an answer… Even if Harry had wanted to reply, what was he to say? How was he to answer that? Because the truth was… Harry was hiding behind Albus Dumbledore… He last and greatest protector.

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STATUS: Complete
TAGGED: Voldemort and Remus
WORDS: 638
OUTFIT: Hogwarts Uniform
LYRICS: Time of dying - 3 Days Grace
CREDIT: CHELS!? For BANNER
RETRO GLAMOUR ! @ CAUTION 2.0