Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Possess me ❯ Chapter six ( Chapter 6 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: Ciiah-chan 
Ron tells Harry how he feels about Harry's changes. And Voldemort will be doing more exlanation, and of course; kinky stuff.
Non Anime: Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Romance | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 11.29.2007 | Pages: 4 | Words: 5.5K | Visits: 1.1K | Status: Work In Progress
Ron tells Harry how he feels about Harry's changes. And Voldemort will be doing more exlanation, and of course; kinky stuff.
Non Anime: Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Romance | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 11.29.2007 | Pages: 4 | Words: 5.5K | Visits: 1.1K | Status: Work In Progress
I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters.
I own the plot of this fic, and if you try to steal it from me it's against the law. I will see to it that your account is erased. (Trust me, my fic's been stolen before, and I HATE it when ppl do that. You shall see my wrath.)
Warnings(as if you didn't know this already); This is hardcore(!) yaoi (Japanese concept for sexual relationships between men), Dark!Harry, vampirism (I'm just as surprised as you are), and some foul language.
Au; Hi, I'm your dearly beloved author. I just want to clear out some things before I continue.
One, I am currently working my ass off in school. I know what you're thinking, and yes; we all hate high school, but really! You have no idea what it's like to be me right now. My whole body is aching from dancing like nuts for several days, in front of five different audiences since yesterday, and we're not even finished yet!... (sighs) Not to mention my poor throat, all sore from singing like crazy. I'm a soprano... and it sucks. Any way, I just wanted to let you know why it sometimes takes me a while to update. I'm a busy woman.
Two; I really hope I didn't shock anyone by writing such an explicit lime in the previous chapter. I was rather shocked myself. I didn't see that one coming. (blushes heavily) Which is exactly why it'd be really great if you'd write me a review to let me know what you think. (I thank all of you who reviewed chapter 5, I really appreciated it.)
I actually do care about what you guys think. K? Everyone clear on that? Good. Now, let's proceed. Sorry about the delay and the unnecessarily long Au.
Chapter six.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
Harry's dark eyes had brightened. They were green again. Not as green as they were before, but at least they weren't dark anymore. It was almost as if Harry's body was floating on small clouds of relief. As if he had had heavy weights on his shoulders for several days, and now they were removed. His body felt light, and his thoughts were clear and not nearly as foggy as they had been during the last couple of days. Was it because of what happened last night?
Harry blinked and continued to stare at his reflection in the two-way mirror. Voldemort's red eyes weren't visible in it anymore, and Harry already somewhat missed the piercing gaze that made his skin shudder in delight and at the same time crawl in fearful excitement. A warm sensation came over his face as he thought of the previous night. He had never, in his entire life, been so turned on by anyone or anything. Just by thinking of what it felt like to have those... things inside of him made Harry blush.
The dark haired boy smirked and put on his glasses, still with his back to Ron who was buttoning his robe. Harry honestly felt extremely tired, drained almost, because not only had he had an incredible orgasm a few hours ago, but he had also forced himself to stay awake long enough to hear Voldemort's plan. And what a brilliant plan it was. Well... it sounded extremely difficult and Harry half suspected to die, but it was indeed brilliant, and with Voldemort's help he would definitely make it. Harry smirked.
However, despite Harry's good mood, it still meant that ‘The Boy Who Lived’ had only slept for about three hours.
Harry threw his bed a longing glance before catching up to Ron who was already waiting for him by the stairs. His red haired friend gave him the usual skewed smile before throwing his bag over his shoulder. Harry did the same, as he had always done, and followed Ron out of the Gryffindore common room. They walked in silence for a couple of minutes, and Harry started to feel uncomfortable. The silence felt almost awkward. That's when Ron finally spoke.
"Hermione's worried about you."
Harry couldn't prevent a snort from escaping his mouth. Ron glanced at him. Harry caught his glance and realized, for the first time, that Ron maybe wasn't as ignorant as Harry had thought. There was attention in those golden brown eyes. Harry gave Ron what he hoped was a reassuring smile.
"Hermione has always been worried about me, Ron," he said, trying to make it sound like a joke. Ron didn't look convinced.
"I'm serious Harry. She's reading more than ever! Lavender Brown told me that she caught Hermione reading a book about demons in the middle of the night a few days ago!" Ron all but hissed, as if he was afraid someone might hear him. "I've never seen her like this. And frankly... you're different from before. You've changed, Harry."
Harry couldn't contain the small laugh that tumbled over his lips.
"If I got a penny from each person who’s said that to me..." he murmured amused, until he caught the almost annoyed look on Ron's face. "Look, it's no big deal! People change, Ron. I'm fifteen for crying out loud, sorry for growing up," Harry exclaimed and added hurt annoyance in his voice. Ron fell for it, just as Harry had planned, and patted Harry's shoulder.
"Sorry mate, it's just you've been acting kinda weird lately. You can't deny it. I mean... I saw..." Ron trailed off and turned his head away. Harry's heart leaped. What had Ron seen?!
"What?" Harry said, sounding a lot sharper than he intended. Ron looked awkward.
"It's not a big deal, as you say, really. I mean, you're free to do whatever you want and-"
"Ron, what did you see?!" Harry grabbed Ron's robe. If Harry's brain had gotten more sleep, he would probably have realized that if Ron had actually seen something too disturbing, for example massive masturbation sessions, including whispers of a certain Dark Lord's name, Ron wouldn't be that cool about it. The red-head just looked a little awkward and unsure. Not horrified and disgusted. But Harry didn't make these conclusions.
"Relax, mate. Jeez, what's wrong with you?" Ron exclaimed and shrugged Harry's hand off. "I just saw you with Malfoy and that other Slytherin-scum the other day... by the quidditch field."
Harry relaxed. Ron hadn't seen anything of any real relevance. Harry shrugged.
"Oh that," he said, cursing the relieved tone in his voice, "Yeah, I was, um... just arguing with the bastard... uh... because the Slytherins used the quidditch field last week even though we had booked it and-"
"Harry, I'm not that stupid."
You're not? Harry thought before he could stop himself. Ron glared at him.
"You guys weren't fighting, you were sharing cigarettes!" Ron huffed angrily and stormed off, clearly pissed off at Harry who stared after him.
"Ron!" Harry called after him. "Please, wait! It wasn't as if I was... I mean... uh..." Harry couldn't think of anything to say. Ron stopped any way and turned to face Harry.
"Look, despite the fact that I think that Malfoy's an idiotic prick, it's not up to me who you decide to befriend, but... I was kinda hoping you'd tell me about it," Ron said, looking both hurt and annoyed. "Am I still your best friend, Harry?"
"Of course you are!" Harry exclaimed, realizing at once that it was true, but for some reason a sharp sting of pain made itself known in his chest as he said it. Ron sighed.
"Is that so? Really... I feel like I don't know you anymore. We don't hang around like we used to, and you seem so damn distant all the time!"
Harry was beyond shocked at this rate. Ron had noticed all of this?
"And I can accept smoking, Harry, but I'm your best friend! I'm the one who's supposed to start smoking with you, not bloody Malfoy." Ron sounded hurt, and Harry's chest hurt again.
"I'm... I'm sorry," Harry murmured, still feeling shocked, and ashamed. More ashamed than Hermione had ever made him feel. Ron was so honest. These were his true feelings, and Harry knew that it was a rare thing that Ron would talk so openly about them. "If you want to, I can smoke with you next time," Harry said, laughed a little, then realizing what a lame joke it was. Ron smiled though.
"Nah, it's okay, really. Just don't forget about me, okay?" Ron gave a smirk and continued the walk to their lesson, which Harry realized they were running rather late for.
"We better get going," Harry said and quickened his steps. He glanced at Ron from the corner of his eye. Ron still looked a bit concerned, as if in deep thoughts, which in itself was a rare thing.
Harry sighed. He had honestly not given much thought to his best friend. Hermione was a pure annoyance these days, and Harry didn’t really think he'd miss her very much after he was gone, but Ron... Ron was his first friend. Ron was always cool about stuff, except for homework and things involving Hermione or Voldemort. They had the same sense of humor, except Harry laughed at cruel muggle-jokes, and Ron did not.
It'd be a lot more painful to leave Ron behind than Hermione. A lot more.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
'...After he was gone', yes. It's exactly what it sounds like. Harry was going away from Hogwarts, without a hint of fear or doubt. Or, well... Actually he was experiencing a little bit of both, but only a little! Or a lot?
Any way! Harry wasn't planning on staying at Hogwarts. No matter how much he enjoyed the large castle with all its quirks, he now knew where he belonged. The world of humans was simply too bright for him. The annoyance towards everything that was light and happy lurked inside of him with each day. What used to fill him with comfort and happiness now disgusted him, as if he was reading a book with too many clichés. Lovey-dovey, happy family, walking on sunshine! Harry despised it all now.
A part of him missed the younger Harry, the naïve Harry, who enjoyed the sunshine and the company of his friends. But he couldn't go back now. He would never be the same again and that started to hurt. The truth was beginning to set in; he was going to leave everything behind.
Hermione was merely an annoyance, and Harry was pretty sure he wouldn't miss her all that much, but Ron! Harry was going to miss Ron.
Harry sighed as he stared into the black, damp stonewall of the dungeon classroom. Potions again. He really hated that subject. It was such a diffuse kind of magic. He preferred curses and spells. Oh well, there was only five minutes left of the class anyway. Harry yawned. He hadn't done anything at all, during those 75 torturous minutes of being trapped in the dark classroom. The only thing Harry really enjoyed about the lesson was the darkness of the room. Such a soothing, dull darkness.
"Mr. Potter?" Snapes drawling voice snapped Harry out of his sleepy daydreams and he realized with a start that Snape was standing right in front of him. Some of the students around him snickered at Harry's confused face. He sighed.
"Yes, sir?"
Snape didn't say anything. He leaned over Harry's desk, bringing his own face closer to Harry's. Harry arched an eyebrow at the teacher's odd behavior.
"Sir?" He repeated as Snape didn't say anything. Snape just stared into Harry's eyes, searching for something. Maybe for some kind of difference. Harry forced his dark green eyes to meet Snape's black pools. After about half a minute of awkward silence, Snape forrowed his brows and muttered.
"...Could've sworn they were darker yesterday..."
Snape pulled back from Harry who felt like he had been holding his breath. He stared after the teacher as Snape made his way back to his desk at the front. Harry smirked. Snape had had a real purpose for doing that strange potion the other day after all. Just like Hermione, the dark teacher was suspecting something odd with Harry. No wonder, really. Harry had been acting the total opposite of his usual behavior for several weeks now. If anyone thought it was something wrong with him, it wouldn't be too shocking.
"Something the matter, sir?" Harry couldn't help but to add a teasing tone to the question. Anyone else would miss it, but Snape would notice it, he knew it. And indeed, the head of Slytherin met Harry's slightly amused gaze and his black eyes narrowed coldly.
"Five points from Gryffindore, Mr. Potter," Snape drawled, a hint of anger very clear in his normally so stoic voice. Groans were heard throughout the room.
"Why?" Harry exclaimed, automatically reacting like he had always done when points were taken from his house. Snape gave him an ice-look.
"For being cheeky, quite simply," Snape said, and snickered a little. The Slytherins took his example. Harry fumed. This was so like Snape! If Harry wasn't so sure that he was leaving Hogwarts soon enough, he might've actually cared. Well, he did care, but...
The class was finally over and Harry shoved his books into his bag and left the dungeon, as if suddenly in a hurry. He couldn't stand being in the same room as that man anymore. The mere presence of Snape disgusted him, and an inexplicable anger seared through his chest.
"Harry?" Ron's hand was placed on Harry's slightly trembling shoulder. "Don't let him get to you, mate," Ron muttered, to show that he shared Harry's anger. Once again the pain of knowing that he would have to leave Ron behind made itself known and Harry met Ron's eyes. He gave his best friend a small smile and nodded before walking towards the Gryffindore house.
That's when the pain came. A sharp, numbing pain. It was so sudden and shocking that Harry gasped and gripped the front of his chest. He was panting slightly and stared down at the floor, waiting, afraid another twinge of pain would sear through him. It did.
"Ah!" Harry gasped again and clutched his shirt tighter. What was happening?!
"Harry? What's wrong?" Ron asked, sounding extremely worried. "Is it the scar?" If Harry wasn't in pain at the moment, he would've laughed; Ron was still terrified of everything that had anything to do with Voldemort.
"N-no... it's not the scar," Harry choked out. "It just... hurts!" Ron took a firm grip of Harry's shoulder to make sure Harry wouldn't fall over.
"I'll take you to Madam Pompfrey." At this Harry shook his head no. Because he had already realized what was wrong. He had been expecting something to happen, but that it'd be so painful? Harry cursed under his breath. He certainly hadn't expected that. And that it would be so damn sudden? It was almost ridiculous.
"No, it's okay... I know what's wrong," he moaned with pain and gripped Ron's robe to keep himself up. His veins felt like they were on fire, twisting and turning in his body. "J-just... just help me to my bed!"
Ron looked a bit hesitating but obeyed never the less.
"Now, Ron... c-could you," Harry groaned and wrapped his arms around his stomach, "Please, give me some time alone. L-leave me alone for a little while... don't worry, okay?"
"But Harry-!" Ron started, absolutely bewildered, but Harry stopped him.
"Please! I know what's wrong, and I know how to fix it, but you have to leave me alone!" Harry all but roared, due to the mixed pain and annoyance. Ron shut up, stared at Harry for a few seconds, then left. Harry felt bad for shouting at Ron, but the pain overtook his guilty feelings and he pulled the curtains, whimpered a locking spell and 'muffliato', so that no one would hear him, even though the room was currently empty.
Then he stripped, fast, and stretched out on the large mattress. He let his fingers wander over his sweaty skin, as the muscles under his fingers twitched from the delight at being freed from the warm clothes, and also the pain that still coursed through him. Harry gasped again and glanced towards his groin. He was embarrassed, and annoyed, at the sight. He hadn't even touched himself there, and it was already hard and flushed. Harry groaned with anger and turned his face away. With a trembling hand he removed his glasses.
Knowing that there wasn't anything else he could do, nor wanted to do, he settled against the pillows and parted his legs widely. Harry's right hand, as the left one was busy with his nipple, made its way towards his hard shaft, already dripping excitedly. As Harry finally took a grip of it, he moaned with relief at finally getting stimulation and made a slow pump. His hips jerked as a command for him to go faster. The pain faded rapidly. Harry closed his eyes to shut out the rest of the world. Flashes of crimson eyes ran though Harry's mind and he whimpered as he realized, once again, that pleasing himself simply wasn't enough.
He wouldn't need the beads this time, though. He was already hard enough to come from something less... kinky.
Harry grabbed the two-way mirror from his nightstand and rolled over on his side. Lifting one knee in the air, while the other leg was still resting on the matress. Harry buried his cheek in his pillow, and closed his eyes for a few seconds more. Then he put the mirror to his face, resting his hot forehead against the cool glass.
"Tom Riddle..." he whispered out. When he finally opened his eyes again, he met the crimson gaze, and Harry couldn't help but to moan and buck his hips. "Tom!" He gasped out.
Voldemort gave him a calm, yet somewhat soothing look. As he understood exactly what Harry was going through. There was also wanting in those red eyes, Harry noticed, and it aroused him.
"I want you..." Harry moaned. "I want you to be here with me... and touch me..." Simply too turned on to be embarrassed, Harry met the Dark Lord's gaze.
"Are you in pain, Harry?" Voldemort asked. Harry didn't answer right away, because he had to catch his breath.
"Y-yes... or I was, but this helps..." Harry murmured and started pumping himself again. "It feels good... so good..." Harry murmured dazedly, seemingly to himself. Voldemort gave a low snicker.
"Well... this is indeed a nice view, Harry," he said, rather huskily, Harry noticed through the dazed state. "Mind if I join in?"
Harry snapped his eyes open and stared into the mirror he gripped so tightly in his hand. It wasn't the red eyes anymore. Or the black, neatly combed hair. Harry gulped and felt the familiar orgasmic warmth pooling in the pit of his stomach. Staring hungrily at the scene, Harry rolled over, kneeling on the bed, resting his upper chest on the matress. His hands reached up to grip his now dripping erection and pumped it desperately while keeping his eyes on the mirror he had placed on the pillow in front of him.
He saw a man's body, from the chest to the knees, sitting on a throne-like chair in a dark room. There was fire in the background, probably a fireplace. The man, who presumably was Voldemort, was dressed in expensive red and black robes with silver details. But it wasn't the clothing that entranced Harry. Voldemort had revealed his own member through the layers of clothing, and was now stroking it in a fast, brilliant rhythm. The hand Voldemort wasn't using to touch himself was resting calmly at the arm of the throne-like chair. Harry moaned.
Voldemort was in so much control. Even when jerking off, Voldemort was so cool. Not at all like Harry, who was panting, sweating and moaning like any typical hormonal teenager.
"When we meet, Harry," Voldemort said with a low, husky voice, "You are going to taste this... would you like that?" Voldemort purred. Harry swallowed, blushing madly.
"Y-yes, my lord," he panted out, feeling more aroused than ever. It felt like he and Voldemort were playing some kind of dirty sex-game.
"Tell me what you want me to do to you," Voldemort said darkly. Harry sighed and closed his eyes for a few seconds.
"I want you to touch me... and taste me," Harry murmured heatedly. "I want to feel your hand on me... like this," Harry said, hoping he was making some sense.
"Is that all?" Voldemort drawled.
"N-no... I want..." Harry swallowed, feeling his orgasm closing in, "I want to feel you inside of me!" Harry gasped out, "I want to have your cock in me!" That's when Harry finally reached around himself with one of his now rather wet hand and let a finger slip inside the tight hole. That was it. With a guttural yell, Harry finally spilled himself over the mattress. He buried his head into the pillow, squinting and pumping himself madly, while letting the finger slip in and out, just a few inches, but it was enough. For now. His body writhed and cramped uncontrollably.
When it was over, and Harry had cleaned up the mess, he sat back against the pillows again and threw the mirror a glance while dressing. Voldemort's, now slightly amused, eyes stared back at him. Harry blushed and turned away again. Echoes of what he had said to the Dark Lord repeated themselves inside his head, and he blushed even more. When did he get so kinky?! Still... faint sparks of orgasmic delight tingled over his skin, and Harry couldn't help but to smile contently.
Turning back to the mirror again, he smirked at Voldemort.
"Did you finish yourself off?" Harry said teasingly, quite certain that it would annoy Voldemort. However, said lord just smirked back.
"Yes, actually. You have a rather nice look on your face when you come, Harry."
Harry blushed even more and sent Voldemort a glare.
"W-what are you saying, you perverted old man?" he muttered, but couldn't ignore the warmth that spread in his chest. "I have to go now. Ron's probably really worried about me."
"Harry."
Harry turned back, just as he was about to leave the bed.
"Yes?"
Voldemort just looked at him for a few seconds. There was a hint of suffering in those eyes. Or maybe it was pity.
"You do realize that you have to leave them all behind, don't you?"
Harry's smile disappeared. He nodded slowly, and let some black strands cover his eyes.
"I know..." he murmured and put the mirror on his nightstand. Then he made sure everything looked alright before exiting the room. Ron was in the common room. When he saw Harry he immediately shot up from the chair he had been sitting on.
"How are you feeling?" He asked, sounding like a worried father. "Any pain? Headache? Why are you up and about? You should be in bed!"
Harry laughed.
"You're starting to sound like Hermione, Ron," he smirked teasingly. "I'm fine, really," he said and gave Ron a reassuring smile. Ron replaced the concerned frown with a relieved smile.
"Good to hear, mate! Good to hear."
Harry smiled and took a seat in one of the chairs in front of the fireplace. The flames reminded him of the fire that had sparked behind Voldemort only a few minutes earlier.
He understood clearly why he had been in so much pain. Voldemort had explained it to him before. The vampiric virus had just started to wake up, new and inexperienced so far, and it doesn't approve of the human body. It's too weak, and has too few pleasure points. And so, the disapproval keeps building up until finally it breaks and the body starts hurting until you do something about it. The vampiric virus longs for comfort, for pleasure. It's simply how it works. And it was Voldemort who had woken the virus up after all. So sexual pleasure, combined with some kind of contact with Voldemort, was pretty much the only thing that helped.
To put it simply; Harry's body was so sexually frustrated, it had finally started to hurt.
Harry had started laughing as Voldemort told him this. It sounded so ridiculous, not to mention weird.
But apparently, it was true. Harry wondered how long it would take until the next time. The pain-attacks wouldn't stop coming until he and Voldemort really did it. Harry blushed and tried to hide from Ron's curious gaze by scratching his cheek. Harry's body longed for Voldemort’s body. Harry longed for Voldemort.
‘The Boy Who Lived’ sighed and stared into the fire.
How much longer?
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
Flashback
"It's both simple and complicated, Harry," Voldemort said, as he started explaining the plan of how to get into Hogwarts. "Actually, half of the process is already completed. I've already given you a piece of my soul. Now all you have to do is to give me a piece of yours."
Harry choked and stared wide-eyed into the red pair of orbs.
"What?! How... I mean, I... I don't know how to do something like that! Isn't that really dangerous?! I'm fifteen for crying out loud, I don't even know how to transform a pig into a chair yet, and you expect me to just cut off a piece of my soul and hand it over to you?" Harry yelled, realizing that Voldemort had tried to interrupt him. The Dark Lord had an annoyed look on his face.
"Don't panic. It's not difficult, since I have already done half of the work for you. Currently, your being contains too much soul."
"Come again?" Harry quirked one eyebrow and sat up in the bed. "You can have too much soul?"
"Of course you can. You were born with your own soul Harry. You were born with one soul. I added a new piece of soul into your body. So now you have too much. Is that really so hard to understand?"
Harry pouted, which felt somewhat odd. Who the hell pouts in front of Voldemort?
"You don't have to be so grumpy about it," he muttered. Voldemort sighed, clearly frustrated.
"I'm not being... grumpy. Just listen to me now... you stupid boy." The last words were muttered with a quieter voice, as if he was hoping Harry wouldn't hear him. However, Harry did hear, and he sent the mirror a hot glare. Voldemort ignored it. "It's not going to be pleasurable. You have to stay strong, no matter what. The first step is that... well, we won't be having any kinds of sexual activity for a while."
At this, Harry whined, and couldn't help but to notice how much it sounded like a hissing. Like the kind of sound an angry cat makes.
"Why not?" Harry said, sounding almost angry. "It really hurts to wait!" Voldemort showed no emotion, save for annoyance.
"I know. But you have to!" The man sneered. "It's the only way. The easiest way. Do you understand?" Harry nodded. "Good. Your eyes will finally turn completely black, and that's when you will be able to see your own soul. It's almost like a survival instinct. Your body will hurt badly enough for it to believe that you are in danger, and so it activates certain... specail abilities.What you have to remember is that it's not only your eyes that will change. After starving your body for so long, your skin might take a paler shade, and your mood will simply be terrible. You have to come up with a good excuse for your behavior and appearance. I would recommend telling everyone that you have the flu."
"The flu?" Harry said, slightly amused. "The flu doesn’t make you look like a vampire, you moron." Voldemort glared at Harry.
"Then come up with something better yourself," he sneered, unconsciously showing a small, sharp fang under his upper lip, and Harry swallowed excitedly. "The important thing is that no one suspects you."
Harry coughed a little.
"Um.. well, actually... Severus Snape is already suspecting me. And so is my friend Hermione. Snape even made me breathe in some weird potion."
"Well, he is a clever man, Snape," Voldemort drawled, fury burning in his eyes, "I swear, I will kill that man some day."
"And I'll take lots of bloody snap-shots," Harry smirked. Voldemort smirked back, though Harry wasn't sure Voldemort knew what "snap-shot" was.
"Just try to behave as normal as possible. When the time is ready, you have to go to Dumbledore's office, and steal something that once belonged to Salazar Slytherin."
"What's that?"
"A knife." Voldemort suddenly looked serious. More serious than usual. "It's the knife you have to cut yourself with." Harry's breath quickened with frightened excitement. "Listen carefully to me now. You have to cut your wrist. And you have to let yourself bleed, until you're at the edge of death. The soul will then be visible, and you have to cut off a piece of your soul with the Slytherin knife and put it in a bottle. Then you must give the bottle to Nagini. She will bring me the bottle. And be careful not to cut off the piece of soul I gave you. I need a piece of your soul." Harry nodded to all of this, even though he thought it sounded crazy and impossible.
"And you mustn't die. Do you hear me? You must not die." Voldemort said clearly and slowly, as if Harry didn't understand that himself.
"Okay, okay," Harry exclaimed, swallowed and closed his eyes. "I won't die."
"That's a good boy," Voldemort purred but remained serious. "Do you realize the importance of your survival? If you die, I won't be able to save you, your soul, or myself." Harry stared at the man in the mirror.
"What do you mean?" he breathed. Voldemort blinked slowly.
"If you die, you die. You're dead. Gone. There's nothing I, or anyone else, can do about that. For you to become truly immortal you have to transform fully into a vampire. As for me, I cannot live without my soulmate, Harry. I can't live without you." Harry had stopped breathing.
"My lord..." He whispered, feeling a strange, stinging sensation in his currently bright green eyes. Voldemort gave Harry an intensive stare, filled with emotions Harry couldn't quite read.
"If you die, Harry... I die too."
End of flashback.
TBC.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
End of chapter five everyone. Please, review. You have no idea how much I appreciate it.
Oh dear, it seems as though I've turned into a naughty author. (hides face in hands) Please bear with me and my dirty, dirty mind. (*starts humming on "you're such a dirty, dirty rockstar.."*)
I hope Voldemort's "brilliant plan" made some sense. If anyone has questions, don't be scared to ask. But chill. I know a lot of you are probably confused, but I promise; I've got it figured out. I know what I'm doing. K?
I own the plot of this fic, and if you try to steal it from me it's against the law. I will see to it that your account is erased. (Trust me, my fic's been stolen before, and I HATE it when ppl do that. You shall see my wrath.)
Warnings(as if you didn't know this already); This is hardcore(!) yaoi (Japanese concept for sexual relationships between men), Dark!Harry, vampirism (I'm just as surprised as you are), and some foul language.
Au; Hi, I'm your dearly beloved author. I just want to clear out some things before I continue.
One, I am currently working my ass off in school. I know what you're thinking, and yes; we all hate high school, but really! You have no idea what it's like to be me right now. My whole body is aching from dancing like nuts for several days, in front of five different audiences since yesterday, and we're not even finished yet!... (sighs) Not to mention my poor throat, all sore from singing like crazy. I'm a soprano... and it sucks. Any way, I just wanted to let you know why it sometimes takes me a while to update. I'm a busy woman.
Two; I really hope I didn't shock anyone by writing such an explicit lime in the previous chapter. I was rather shocked myself. I didn't see that one coming. (blushes heavily) Which is exactly why it'd be really great if you'd write me a review to let me know what you think. (I thank all of you who reviewed chapter 5, I really appreciated it.)
I actually do care about what you guys think. K? Everyone clear on that? Good. Now, let's proceed. Sorry about the delay and the unnecessarily long Au.
Chapter six.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
Harry's dark eyes had brightened. They were green again. Not as green as they were before, but at least they weren't dark anymore. It was almost as if Harry's body was floating on small clouds of relief. As if he had had heavy weights on his shoulders for several days, and now they were removed. His body felt light, and his thoughts were clear and not nearly as foggy as they had been during the last couple of days. Was it because of what happened last night?
Harry blinked and continued to stare at his reflection in the two-way mirror. Voldemort's red eyes weren't visible in it anymore, and Harry already somewhat missed the piercing gaze that made his skin shudder in delight and at the same time crawl in fearful excitement. A warm sensation came over his face as he thought of the previous night. He had never, in his entire life, been so turned on by anyone or anything. Just by thinking of what it felt like to have those... things inside of him made Harry blush.
The dark haired boy smirked and put on his glasses, still with his back to Ron who was buttoning his robe. Harry honestly felt extremely tired, drained almost, because not only had he had an incredible orgasm a few hours ago, but he had also forced himself to stay awake long enough to hear Voldemort's plan. And what a brilliant plan it was. Well... it sounded extremely difficult and Harry half suspected to die, but it was indeed brilliant, and with Voldemort's help he would definitely make it. Harry smirked.
However, despite Harry's good mood, it still meant that ‘The Boy Who Lived’ had only slept for about three hours.
Harry threw his bed a longing glance before catching up to Ron who was already waiting for him by the stairs. His red haired friend gave him the usual skewed smile before throwing his bag over his shoulder. Harry did the same, as he had always done, and followed Ron out of the Gryffindore common room. They walked in silence for a couple of minutes, and Harry started to feel uncomfortable. The silence felt almost awkward. That's when Ron finally spoke.
"Hermione's worried about you."
Harry couldn't prevent a snort from escaping his mouth. Ron glanced at him. Harry caught his glance and realized, for the first time, that Ron maybe wasn't as ignorant as Harry had thought. There was attention in those golden brown eyes. Harry gave Ron what he hoped was a reassuring smile.
"Hermione has always been worried about me, Ron," he said, trying to make it sound like a joke. Ron didn't look convinced.
"I'm serious Harry. She's reading more than ever! Lavender Brown told me that she caught Hermione reading a book about demons in the middle of the night a few days ago!" Ron all but hissed, as if he was afraid someone might hear him. "I've never seen her like this. And frankly... you're different from before. You've changed, Harry."
Harry couldn't contain the small laugh that tumbled over his lips.
"If I got a penny from each person who’s said that to me..." he murmured amused, until he caught the almost annoyed look on Ron's face. "Look, it's no big deal! People change, Ron. I'm fifteen for crying out loud, sorry for growing up," Harry exclaimed and added hurt annoyance in his voice. Ron fell for it, just as Harry had planned, and patted Harry's shoulder.
"Sorry mate, it's just you've been acting kinda weird lately. You can't deny it. I mean... I saw..." Ron trailed off and turned his head away. Harry's heart leaped. What had Ron seen?!
"What?" Harry said, sounding a lot sharper than he intended. Ron looked awkward.
"It's not a big deal, as you say, really. I mean, you're free to do whatever you want and-"
"Ron, what did you see?!" Harry grabbed Ron's robe. If Harry's brain had gotten more sleep, he would probably have realized that if Ron had actually seen something too disturbing, for example massive masturbation sessions, including whispers of a certain Dark Lord's name, Ron wouldn't be that cool about it. The red-head just looked a little awkward and unsure. Not horrified and disgusted. But Harry didn't make these conclusions.
"Relax, mate. Jeez, what's wrong with you?" Ron exclaimed and shrugged Harry's hand off. "I just saw you with Malfoy and that other Slytherin-scum the other day... by the quidditch field."
Harry relaxed. Ron hadn't seen anything of any real relevance. Harry shrugged.
"Oh that," he said, cursing the relieved tone in his voice, "Yeah, I was, um... just arguing with the bastard... uh... because the Slytherins used the quidditch field last week even though we had booked it and-"
"Harry, I'm not that stupid."
You're not? Harry thought before he could stop himself. Ron glared at him.
"You guys weren't fighting, you were sharing cigarettes!" Ron huffed angrily and stormed off, clearly pissed off at Harry who stared after him.
"Ron!" Harry called after him. "Please, wait! It wasn't as if I was... I mean... uh..." Harry couldn't think of anything to say. Ron stopped any way and turned to face Harry.
"Look, despite the fact that I think that Malfoy's an idiotic prick, it's not up to me who you decide to befriend, but... I was kinda hoping you'd tell me about it," Ron said, looking both hurt and annoyed. "Am I still your best friend, Harry?"
"Of course you are!" Harry exclaimed, realizing at once that it was true, but for some reason a sharp sting of pain made itself known in his chest as he said it. Ron sighed.
"Is that so? Really... I feel like I don't know you anymore. We don't hang around like we used to, and you seem so damn distant all the time!"
Harry was beyond shocked at this rate. Ron had noticed all of this?
"And I can accept smoking, Harry, but I'm your best friend! I'm the one who's supposed to start smoking with you, not bloody Malfoy." Ron sounded hurt, and Harry's chest hurt again.
"I'm... I'm sorry," Harry murmured, still feeling shocked, and ashamed. More ashamed than Hermione had ever made him feel. Ron was so honest. These were his true feelings, and Harry knew that it was a rare thing that Ron would talk so openly about them. "If you want to, I can smoke with you next time," Harry said, laughed a little, then realizing what a lame joke it was. Ron smiled though.
"Nah, it's okay, really. Just don't forget about me, okay?" Ron gave a smirk and continued the walk to their lesson, which Harry realized they were running rather late for.
"We better get going," Harry said and quickened his steps. He glanced at Ron from the corner of his eye. Ron still looked a bit concerned, as if in deep thoughts, which in itself was a rare thing.
Harry sighed. He had honestly not given much thought to his best friend. Hermione was a pure annoyance these days, and Harry didn’t really think he'd miss her very much after he was gone, but Ron... Ron was his first friend. Ron was always cool about stuff, except for homework and things involving Hermione or Voldemort. They had the same sense of humor, except Harry laughed at cruel muggle-jokes, and Ron did not.
It'd be a lot more painful to leave Ron behind than Hermione. A lot more.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
'...After he was gone', yes. It's exactly what it sounds like. Harry was going away from Hogwarts, without a hint of fear or doubt. Or, well... Actually he was experiencing a little bit of both, but only a little! Or a lot?
Any way! Harry wasn't planning on staying at Hogwarts. No matter how much he enjoyed the large castle with all its quirks, he now knew where he belonged. The world of humans was simply too bright for him. The annoyance towards everything that was light and happy lurked inside of him with each day. What used to fill him with comfort and happiness now disgusted him, as if he was reading a book with too many clichés. Lovey-dovey, happy family, walking on sunshine! Harry despised it all now.
A part of him missed the younger Harry, the naïve Harry, who enjoyed the sunshine and the company of his friends. But he couldn't go back now. He would never be the same again and that started to hurt. The truth was beginning to set in; he was going to leave everything behind.
Hermione was merely an annoyance, and Harry was pretty sure he wouldn't miss her all that much, but Ron! Harry was going to miss Ron.
Harry sighed as he stared into the black, damp stonewall of the dungeon classroom. Potions again. He really hated that subject. It was such a diffuse kind of magic. He preferred curses and spells. Oh well, there was only five minutes left of the class anyway. Harry yawned. He hadn't done anything at all, during those 75 torturous minutes of being trapped in the dark classroom. The only thing Harry really enjoyed about the lesson was the darkness of the room. Such a soothing, dull darkness.
"Mr. Potter?" Snapes drawling voice snapped Harry out of his sleepy daydreams and he realized with a start that Snape was standing right in front of him. Some of the students around him snickered at Harry's confused face. He sighed.
"Yes, sir?"
Snape didn't say anything. He leaned over Harry's desk, bringing his own face closer to Harry's. Harry arched an eyebrow at the teacher's odd behavior.
"Sir?" He repeated as Snape didn't say anything. Snape just stared into Harry's eyes, searching for something. Maybe for some kind of difference. Harry forced his dark green eyes to meet Snape's black pools. After about half a minute of awkward silence, Snape forrowed his brows and muttered.
"...Could've sworn they were darker yesterday..."
Snape pulled back from Harry who felt like he had been holding his breath. He stared after the teacher as Snape made his way back to his desk at the front. Harry smirked. Snape had had a real purpose for doing that strange potion the other day after all. Just like Hermione, the dark teacher was suspecting something odd with Harry. No wonder, really. Harry had been acting the total opposite of his usual behavior for several weeks now. If anyone thought it was something wrong with him, it wouldn't be too shocking.
"Something the matter, sir?" Harry couldn't help but to add a teasing tone to the question. Anyone else would miss it, but Snape would notice it, he knew it. And indeed, the head of Slytherin met Harry's slightly amused gaze and his black eyes narrowed coldly.
"Five points from Gryffindore, Mr. Potter," Snape drawled, a hint of anger very clear in his normally so stoic voice. Groans were heard throughout the room.
"Why?" Harry exclaimed, automatically reacting like he had always done when points were taken from his house. Snape gave him an ice-look.
"For being cheeky, quite simply," Snape said, and snickered a little. The Slytherins took his example. Harry fumed. This was so like Snape! If Harry wasn't so sure that he was leaving Hogwarts soon enough, he might've actually cared. Well, he did care, but...
The class was finally over and Harry shoved his books into his bag and left the dungeon, as if suddenly in a hurry. He couldn't stand being in the same room as that man anymore. The mere presence of Snape disgusted him, and an inexplicable anger seared through his chest.
"Harry?" Ron's hand was placed on Harry's slightly trembling shoulder. "Don't let him get to you, mate," Ron muttered, to show that he shared Harry's anger. Once again the pain of knowing that he would have to leave Ron behind made itself known and Harry met Ron's eyes. He gave his best friend a small smile and nodded before walking towards the Gryffindore house.
That's when the pain came. A sharp, numbing pain. It was so sudden and shocking that Harry gasped and gripped the front of his chest. He was panting slightly and stared down at the floor, waiting, afraid another twinge of pain would sear through him. It did.
"Ah!" Harry gasped again and clutched his shirt tighter. What was happening?!
"Harry? What's wrong?" Ron asked, sounding extremely worried. "Is it the scar?" If Harry wasn't in pain at the moment, he would've laughed; Ron was still terrified of everything that had anything to do with Voldemort.
"N-no... it's not the scar," Harry choked out. "It just... hurts!" Ron took a firm grip of Harry's shoulder to make sure Harry wouldn't fall over.
"I'll take you to Madam Pompfrey." At this Harry shook his head no. Because he had already realized what was wrong. He had been expecting something to happen, but that it'd be so painful? Harry cursed under his breath. He certainly hadn't expected that. And that it would be so damn sudden? It was almost ridiculous.
"No, it's okay... I know what's wrong," he moaned with pain and gripped Ron's robe to keep himself up. His veins felt like they were on fire, twisting and turning in his body. "J-just... just help me to my bed!"
Ron looked a bit hesitating but obeyed never the less.
"Now, Ron... c-could you," Harry groaned and wrapped his arms around his stomach, "Please, give me some time alone. L-leave me alone for a little while... don't worry, okay?"
"But Harry-!" Ron started, absolutely bewildered, but Harry stopped him.
"Please! I know what's wrong, and I know how to fix it, but you have to leave me alone!" Harry all but roared, due to the mixed pain and annoyance. Ron shut up, stared at Harry for a few seconds, then left. Harry felt bad for shouting at Ron, but the pain overtook his guilty feelings and he pulled the curtains, whimpered a locking spell and 'muffliato', so that no one would hear him, even though the room was currently empty.
Then he stripped, fast, and stretched out on the large mattress. He let his fingers wander over his sweaty skin, as the muscles under his fingers twitched from the delight at being freed from the warm clothes, and also the pain that still coursed through him. Harry gasped again and glanced towards his groin. He was embarrassed, and annoyed, at the sight. He hadn't even touched himself there, and it was already hard and flushed. Harry groaned with anger and turned his face away. With a trembling hand he removed his glasses.
Knowing that there wasn't anything else he could do, nor wanted to do, he settled against the pillows and parted his legs widely. Harry's right hand, as the left one was busy with his nipple, made its way towards his hard shaft, already dripping excitedly. As Harry finally took a grip of it, he moaned with relief at finally getting stimulation and made a slow pump. His hips jerked as a command for him to go faster. The pain faded rapidly. Harry closed his eyes to shut out the rest of the world. Flashes of crimson eyes ran though Harry's mind and he whimpered as he realized, once again, that pleasing himself simply wasn't enough.
He wouldn't need the beads this time, though. He was already hard enough to come from something less... kinky.
Harry grabbed the two-way mirror from his nightstand and rolled over on his side. Lifting one knee in the air, while the other leg was still resting on the matress. Harry buried his cheek in his pillow, and closed his eyes for a few seconds more. Then he put the mirror to his face, resting his hot forehead against the cool glass.
"Tom Riddle..." he whispered out. When he finally opened his eyes again, he met the crimson gaze, and Harry couldn't help but to moan and buck his hips. "Tom!" He gasped out.
Voldemort gave him a calm, yet somewhat soothing look. As he understood exactly what Harry was going through. There was also wanting in those red eyes, Harry noticed, and it aroused him.
"I want you..." Harry moaned. "I want you to be here with me... and touch me..." Simply too turned on to be embarrassed, Harry met the Dark Lord's gaze.
"Are you in pain, Harry?" Voldemort asked. Harry didn't answer right away, because he had to catch his breath.
"Y-yes... or I was, but this helps..." Harry murmured and started pumping himself again. "It feels good... so good..." Harry murmured dazedly, seemingly to himself. Voldemort gave a low snicker.
"Well... this is indeed a nice view, Harry," he said, rather huskily, Harry noticed through the dazed state. "Mind if I join in?"
Harry snapped his eyes open and stared into the mirror he gripped so tightly in his hand. It wasn't the red eyes anymore. Or the black, neatly combed hair. Harry gulped and felt the familiar orgasmic warmth pooling in the pit of his stomach. Staring hungrily at the scene, Harry rolled over, kneeling on the bed, resting his upper chest on the matress. His hands reached up to grip his now dripping erection and pumped it desperately while keeping his eyes on the mirror he had placed on the pillow in front of him.
He saw a man's body, from the chest to the knees, sitting on a throne-like chair in a dark room. There was fire in the background, probably a fireplace. The man, who presumably was Voldemort, was dressed in expensive red and black robes with silver details. But it wasn't the clothing that entranced Harry. Voldemort had revealed his own member through the layers of clothing, and was now stroking it in a fast, brilliant rhythm. The hand Voldemort wasn't using to touch himself was resting calmly at the arm of the throne-like chair. Harry moaned.
Voldemort was in so much control. Even when jerking off, Voldemort was so cool. Not at all like Harry, who was panting, sweating and moaning like any typical hormonal teenager.
"When we meet, Harry," Voldemort said with a low, husky voice, "You are going to taste this... would you like that?" Voldemort purred. Harry swallowed, blushing madly.
"Y-yes, my lord," he panted out, feeling more aroused than ever. It felt like he and Voldemort were playing some kind of dirty sex-game.
"Tell me what you want me to do to you," Voldemort said darkly. Harry sighed and closed his eyes for a few seconds.
"I want you to touch me... and taste me," Harry murmured heatedly. "I want to feel your hand on me... like this," Harry said, hoping he was making some sense.
"Is that all?" Voldemort drawled.
"N-no... I want..." Harry swallowed, feeling his orgasm closing in, "I want to feel you inside of me!" Harry gasped out, "I want to have your cock in me!" That's when Harry finally reached around himself with one of his now rather wet hand and let a finger slip inside the tight hole. That was it. With a guttural yell, Harry finally spilled himself over the mattress. He buried his head into the pillow, squinting and pumping himself madly, while letting the finger slip in and out, just a few inches, but it was enough. For now. His body writhed and cramped uncontrollably.
When it was over, and Harry had cleaned up the mess, he sat back against the pillows again and threw the mirror a glance while dressing. Voldemort's, now slightly amused, eyes stared back at him. Harry blushed and turned away again. Echoes of what he had said to the Dark Lord repeated themselves inside his head, and he blushed even more. When did he get so kinky?! Still... faint sparks of orgasmic delight tingled over his skin, and Harry couldn't help but to smile contently.
Turning back to the mirror again, he smirked at Voldemort.
"Did you finish yourself off?" Harry said teasingly, quite certain that it would annoy Voldemort. However, said lord just smirked back.
"Yes, actually. You have a rather nice look on your face when you come, Harry."
Harry blushed even more and sent Voldemort a glare.
"W-what are you saying, you perverted old man?" he muttered, but couldn't ignore the warmth that spread in his chest. "I have to go now. Ron's probably really worried about me."
"Harry."
Harry turned back, just as he was about to leave the bed.
"Yes?"
Voldemort just looked at him for a few seconds. There was a hint of suffering in those eyes. Or maybe it was pity.
"You do realize that you have to leave them all behind, don't you?"
Harry's smile disappeared. He nodded slowly, and let some black strands cover his eyes.
"I know..." he murmured and put the mirror on his nightstand. Then he made sure everything looked alright before exiting the room. Ron was in the common room. When he saw Harry he immediately shot up from the chair he had been sitting on.
"How are you feeling?" He asked, sounding like a worried father. "Any pain? Headache? Why are you up and about? You should be in bed!"
Harry laughed.
"You're starting to sound like Hermione, Ron," he smirked teasingly. "I'm fine, really," he said and gave Ron a reassuring smile. Ron replaced the concerned frown with a relieved smile.
"Good to hear, mate! Good to hear."
Harry smiled and took a seat in one of the chairs in front of the fireplace. The flames reminded him of the fire that had sparked behind Voldemort only a few minutes earlier.
He understood clearly why he had been in so much pain. Voldemort had explained it to him before. The vampiric virus had just started to wake up, new and inexperienced so far, and it doesn't approve of the human body. It's too weak, and has too few pleasure points. And so, the disapproval keeps building up until finally it breaks and the body starts hurting until you do something about it. The vampiric virus longs for comfort, for pleasure. It's simply how it works. And it was Voldemort who had woken the virus up after all. So sexual pleasure, combined with some kind of contact with Voldemort, was pretty much the only thing that helped.
To put it simply; Harry's body was so sexually frustrated, it had finally started to hurt.
Harry had started laughing as Voldemort told him this. It sounded so ridiculous, not to mention weird.
But apparently, it was true. Harry wondered how long it would take until the next time. The pain-attacks wouldn't stop coming until he and Voldemort really did it. Harry blushed and tried to hide from Ron's curious gaze by scratching his cheek. Harry's body longed for Voldemort’s body. Harry longed for Voldemort.
‘The Boy Who Lived’ sighed and stared into the fire.
How much longer?
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
Flashback
"It's both simple and complicated, Harry," Voldemort said, as he started explaining the plan of how to get into Hogwarts. "Actually, half of the process is already completed. I've already given you a piece of my soul. Now all you have to do is to give me a piece of yours."
Harry choked and stared wide-eyed into the red pair of orbs.
"What?! How... I mean, I... I don't know how to do something like that! Isn't that really dangerous?! I'm fifteen for crying out loud, I don't even know how to transform a pig into a chair yet, and you expect me to just cut off a piece of my soul and hand it over to you?" Harry yelled, realizing that Voldemort had tried to interrupt him. The Dark Lord had an annoyed look on his face.
"Don't panic. It's not difficult, since I have already done half of the work for you. Currently, your being contains too much soul."
"Come again?" Harry quirked one eyebrow and sat up in the bed. "You can have too much soul?"
"Of course you can. You were born with your own soul Harry. You were born with one soul. I added a new piece of soul into your body. So now you have too much. Is that really so hard to understand?"
Harry pouted, which felt somewhat odd. Who the hell pouts in front of Voldemort?
"You don't have to be so grumpy about it," he muttered. Voldemort sighed, clearly frustrated.
"I'm not being... grumpy. Just listen to me now... you stupid boy." The last words were muttered with a quieter voice, as if he was hoping Harry wouldn't hear him. However, Harry did hear, and he sent the mirror a hot glare. Voldemort ignored it. "It's not going to be pleasurable. You have to stay strong, no matter what. The first step is that... well, we won't be having any kinds of sexual activity for a while."
At this, Harry whined, and couldn't help but to notice how much it sounded like a hissing. Like the kind of sound an angry cat makes.
"Why not?" Harry said, sounding almost angry. "It really hurts to wait!" Voldemort showed no emotion, save for annoyance.
"I know. But you have to!" The man sneered. "It's the only way. The easiest way. Do you understand?" Harry nodded. "Good. Your eyes will finally turn completely black, and that's when you will be able to see your own soul. It's almost like a survival instinct. Your body will hurt badly enough for it to believe that you are in danger, and so it activates certain... specail abilities.What you have to remember is that it's not only your eyes that will change. After starving your body for so long, your skin might take a paler shade, and your mood will simply be terrible. You have to come up with a good excuse for your behavior and appearance. I would recommend telling everyone that you have the flu."
"The flu?" Harry said, slightly amused. "The flu doesn’t make you look like a vampire, you moron." Voldemort glared at Harry.
"Then come up with something better yourself," he sneered, unconsciously showing a small, sharp fang under his upper lip, and Harry swallowed excitedly. "The important thing is that no one suspects you."
Harry coughed a little.
"Um.. well, actually... Severus Snape is already suspecting me. And so is my friend Hermione. Snape even made me breathe in some weird potion."
"Well, he is a clever man, Snape," Voldemort drawled, fury burning in his eyes, "I swear, I will kill that man some day."
"And I'll take lots of bloody snap-shots," Harry smirked. Voldemort smirked back, though Harry wasn't sure Voldemort knew what "snap-shot" was.
"Just try to behave as normal as possible. When the time is ready, you have to go to Dumbledore's office, and steal something that once belonged to Salazar Slytherin."
"What's that?"
"A knife." Voldemort suddenly looked serious. More serious than usual. "It's the knife you have to cut yourself with." Harry's breath quickened with frightened excitement. "Listen carefully to me now. You have to cut your wrist. And you have to let yourself bleed, until you're at the edge of death. The soul will then be visible, and you have to cut off a piece of your soul with the Slytherin knife and put it in a bottle. Then you must give the bottle to Nagini. She will bring me the bottle. And be careful not to cut off the piece of soul I gave you. I need a piece of your soul." Harry nodded to all of this, even though he thought it sounded crazy and impossible.
"And you mustn't die. Do you hear me? You must not die." Voldemort said clearly and slowly, as if Harry didn't understand that himself.
"Okay, okay," Harry exclaimed, swallowed and closed his eyes. "I won't die."
"That's a good boy," Voldemort purred but remained serious. "Do you realize the importance of your survival? If you die, I won't be able to save you, your soul, or myself." Harry stared at the man in the mirror.
"What do you mean?" he breathed. Voldemort blinked slowly.
"If you die, you die. You're dead. Gone. There's nothing I, or anyone else, can do about that. For you to become truly immortal you have to transform fully into a vampire. As for me, I cannot live without my soulmate, Harry. I can't live without you." Harry had stopped breathing.
"My lord..." He whispered, feeling a strange, stinging sensation in his currently bright green eyes. Voldemort gave Harry an intensive stare, filled with emotions Harry couldn't quite read.
"If you die, Harry... I die too."
End of flashback.
TBC.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
End of chapter five everyone. Please, review. You have no idea how much I appreciate it.
Oh dear, it seems as though I've turned into a naughty author. (hides face in hands) Please bear with me and my dirty, dirty mind. (*starts humming on "you're such a dirty, dirty rockstar.."*)
I hope Voldemort's "brilliant plan" made some sense. If anyone has questions, don't be scared to ask. But chill. I know a lot of you are probably confused, but I promise; I've got it figured out. I know what I'm doing. K?