Hi all. Sorry for the delay. Bit more background on Harry's relationship with Voldemort and how it has shaped his development. Hope you enjoy :)
Flashbacks are in bold
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The Dark Lord's Apprentice | ||||||
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Category: Alternate Universe Characters:All Genres: Action/Adventure Warnings: Death, Disturbing Imagery, Intimate Sexual Situations Story is Complete Rating: R Reviews: 127 Summary: “The one with the power to equal The Dark Lord approaches, born to those who have thrice defied him. He shall rise as the seventh month dies, and the Dark Lord shall mark him as his equal and he shall raise him as his own. For together they have the power to overcome all who face them…” Hitcount: Story Total: 54711; Chapter Total: 3862 Awards: View Trophy Room Author's Notes: |
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Becoming a Man Harry walked down the spiral staircase that led to the dungeon beneath Malfoy Manor. His seventeen year old heart was filled with trepidation, as it always was as he made the lonely walk down. Harry paused a few metres from the door that led into the dungeon’s main chamber, and took a deep breath. He was just about to have another training session with the Dark Lord himself. If he was honest with himself, the Dark Lord scared him a bit. His voice, so high and cold, made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. And his eyes, his red eyes that seemed to pierce right through him… Harry shook his head resolutely. ‘Don’t be so weak minded,’ he thought to himself. The training was necessary. Harry grinned. He was fortunate, really. The Dark Lord was going to turn him into the most powerful wizard the world had ever seen, apart from the Dark Lord himself, of course. And as he had been told many times before, power was everything. Now more excited than nervous, Harry knocked on the door. “Enter,” the high pitched voice of the Dark Lord said, bouncing off the cold stone walls of the dungeon. Harry did as he was bidden and strode through the door. The Dark Lord was sat behind a large mahogany table in a large, wing-back chair. He had his servant Wormtail grovelling by his side. Even in Harry’s young eyes the man looked pathetic. He was weak. Harry was strong. “Ah, Harry,” the Dark Lord greeted. “Welcome,” he said, gesturing to the chair nearest to him at the table. Harry approached and took his seat, looking directly back into the red eyes that watched him. Keeping eye contact showed confidence and strength, only the weak avert their eyes from their Master, another valuable lesson that the Dark Lord had passed down to him. “A lot can be learnt about a man through their eyes, Harry,” the Dark Lord had told him. “Their greatest fears, their biggest weaknesses, a man’s eyes betrays them all.” Harry snapped back to the present as the Dark Lord spoke again. “I have been made aware by dear Wormtail here that today is your birthday, Harry.” Harry nodded. “Well congratulations,” the Dark Lord said. “You are becoming a man.” “Thank you, my Lord.” “Your training, therefore,” the Dark Lord continued, “should reflect your status as a man. Today you will be accompanying me on a mission.” Harry merely nodded again, but inside he was bubbling with excitement. So far his training had been confined to this room, with them only venturing outside when he was learning to master Apparition. This was the first time he had ever been trusted to accompany the Dark Lord on a mission. “Thank you my Lord.” “Go retrieve you cloak and meet me in the Manor grounds in five minutes. Understood?” Harry nodded, stood up and rushed from the room, bounding up the stairs two at a time, full of excitement. He rushed into his large, ornate bedroom and retrieved his travelling cloak before pulling it on. It was expensive, like everything else in Malfoy Manor, and all black, the obligatory uniform of any servant of the Dark Lord. Harry then rushed back downstairs and out into the grounds where the Dark Lord was waiting for him, squinting slightly as his eyes re-adjusted to the bright summer sun. “You are to Apparate to the outskirts of Hogsmeade. There I will give you further instruction.” Harry nodded and in his excitement was just about to Disapparate when the Dark Lord called out to him. “What have you forgotten, Harry?” Harry grimaced and cursed under his breath. “Sorry my Lord.” “You nearly made an amateurish and a costly mistake. I will not allow amateurs to serve under me. You will be punished for your mistake later, understood?” “Yes, my Lord,” Harry said, cursing under his breath again. Harry then raised his wand, took a deep breath, then tapped it on the top of his head. A strange tickling sensation then ran through his body, from his head to his toes. Harry smiled in satisfaction. The spell had worked. He was now completely invisible. Harry observed the Dark Lord do the same, then he spoke. “Secrecy, at this time, is everything, Harry,” the Dark Lord told him for what Harry was sure was the hundredth time. “There will be a time when we will walk together in the public eye as rulers of the wizarding world, but it is not today. Today we are shadows, moving in the darkness, biding our time, waiting to strike.” Harry nodded and the Dark Lord Disapparated. Harry followed suit. Harry re-appeared on a small forested incline over-looking the village of Hogsmeade. Harry sensed the Dark Lord standing beside him, surveying the scene. “Today, Harry,” the Dark Lord said, “we are gathering information on our enemy.” Harry nodded. “While Severus is an effective mole in the enemy camp, he is not trusted by all. Dumbledore trusts him implicitly, but the other members in the Order of the Phoenix do not. Severus may be missing some key information about or enemies that they have not trusted to relay to him. However this is no longer going to be an issue. Today, you are going to…extract information, from one of their number. I’ve identified your target as the weakest link in the chain. His name is Mundungus Fletcher.” Harry noted the disgust in his master’s voice when he uttered his name. “He is scum,” the Dark Lord continued. “Nothing more than a common thief. He regularly frequents the Hog’s Head pub here in Hogsmeade. You are to follow him, and once he is in a secluded corner, you are to strike. Pummel him for information about the strength of the Order, its recruiting policy, the movements of Albus Dumbledore and any other useful information you can think of. Torture him if you must. He may be useful, he may not, but either way, you are to kill him afterwards.” Harry jolted. He had never once uttered the killing curse, let alone actually use it on a living person. The Dark Lord continued. “You will do as you are bidden. I will be watching you every step of the way. I will know if you have failed me. Understood?” “Yes, my Lord.” “You must also dispose of the body once you have completed the task. We want no one to know of what has occurred today. You are dismissed.” Harry set off towards Hogsmeade, still invisible due to his earlier spellwork. His heart was beating rapidly as he walked, so he put to use the breathing exercises the Dark lord had taught him to calm himself. He needed to be calm, cold, calculating. Everything his master was. It took Harry five minutes to reach the entrance of the Hog’s Head, which still looked dingy and grimy despite being bathed in the glow of the summer sun. It was here where Harry paused. Glancing down at his watch he saw it was almost 6pm, and the pub was beginning to fill with its regulars for an evening drink. Harry waited until someone exited the pub before slipping inside and letting the door close behind him. Harry waited until his eyes adjusted to the dark interior of the pub before moving inside. He surveyed his surroundings. It was a rather depressing little pub that looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in years. There was a small bar surrounded by four of five stools, all of which were occupied by men that looked like they hadn’t moved from their seats in years. Narrow little booths lined the walls, each one enshrouded in shadow, hiding the customers that sat within. Harry leant against the wall at the back of the pub, ensuring he was out of the way so no one bumped into an invisible being, while also giving him the best view to survey the scene. The Dark Lord hadn’t given him a proper description of his target, which he was sure was part of the test. He had two pieces of information to go on. The first, was that the Dark Lord considered him scum. Looking around the pub, Harry felt most of the people there would have fallen into that first category. The second was that he was a thief. And what did thieves do? They fenced their findings. Harry stalked along each of the booths, looking for someone that might be trying to sell some of their ill-begotten wears. However he had no such luck. Harry’s heart-rate increased slightly. Already he could sense the Dark Lord growing impatient. Harry returned to his position against the back wall, watching as people came and went. Harry noticed there was not much interaction between the punters. Each kept to themselves as they entered, drank and left, or in some cases just entered and drank. That was until one particular punter entered. A short man with short red hair strode into the pub and went straight up to the bar after greeting several punters on the way in. “Gimme a firewhiskey there Abe,” the man said loudly to the barman. “I deserve a drink after what I’ve achieved today.” “I don’t want to hear about it,” the barman replied. “Fair enough Abe, fair enough,” the short man said, his voice purposefully carrying across the pub. Then a punter from one of the booths spoke. “Go on then Mundungus, tell us what you’ve done.” Harry’s ears perked up immediately. ‘So this is Mundungus Fletcher,’ he thought to himself, smirking. Why the Order of the Phoenix would let such a low life in their ranks was beyond him. The Dark Lord was right. They really must be desperate for members. Harry looked on as Mundungus regaled all that would listen of his daring robbery of a rich old couple earlier that day in Diagon Alley. “Now who,” Mundungus announced to the pub at large, “would like to see some of my spoils.” This caught several people’s attention, and a small crowd began to form around him. This was not good. Harry needed to get alone in a secluded alleyway somehow. Harry watched for several minutes as a few of the stolen goods were passed around, when suddenly a cloaked figure approached Fletcher and whispered in his ear. Fletcher’s face lit up and he immediately started grabbing all of his stolen goods back. It looked like he had a buyer. Harry watched as the cloaked figure led Fletcher outside and he quickly followed, slipping through the door before it closed. The cloaked figure led Mundungus, who was still bragging about his haul, down a side alley by the pub. This was Harry’s chance. He stood back and observed as Mundungus showed the cloaked figure his wears, when suddenly there was a load bang, a crack, and then he was gone. Harry looked on bewildered as Mundungus screamed in fury, shouting several obscenities at no one in particular. The robber has just been robbed. The cloaked figure had grabbed as much as he could of Mundungus’ haul before Disapparating in a flash of smoke. Now it was Harry’s turn to act. He shot a tripping jinx at Mundungus that had him sprawled on ground. Then he undid the concealment charm he had placed on himself earlier and grabbed Mundungus by the scruff of the neck and dragged him to his feet. At seventeen years of age, Harry already stood a couple of inches taller than him. “What in the blazes?!” Mundungus spluttered before he got a good look at his attacker. “Hang on. You’re just a kid!” “Tell me about the Order of the Phoenix,” Harry said, still holding the man by the scruff of the neck. “You what?” Mundungus said, bewildered. “How do you know about that?” “I’m the one asking the questions,” Harry replied. Mundungus burst out laughing. “Listen here, mate,” he said between chuckles. “I don’t know who you think you are, but I’m not telling you nothing.” “I warned you,” Harry said, his voice low and threatening. He raised his and performed a quick silencing charm around them. “What was that for,” Fletcher asked, bewildered. “So no one will hear your screams,” Harry sneered. “Crucio!” Mundungus collapsed to the ground and began to writhe in agony as Harry stood over him, his wand a loft. Harry loved this spell. It always made him feel powerful, knowing he was setting every nerve in his victim’s body on fire. After a few seconds, Harry lifted the spell and dragged a panting Mundungus to his feet. “W-what do you want from me?” Fletcher asked. Harry was satisfied to see there was genuine fear in his eyes. “Information. How many members does the Order of the Phoenix have? How are you recruiting?” “Who are you?” Mundungus asked. Harry made to raise his wand again. “Okay, okay!” Mundungus said, flinching at the sight of his wand. “The Order is mainly made up of three core families, the Prewetts, the Tonks and the Weasleys and their friends and acquaintances.” Harry nodded. “How have you been recruiting?” Mundungus shrugged. “I dunno, do I? They don’t tell me much.” Harry raised his wand again. “You’re going to have to do better than that,” he growled. “Okay!” Fletcher squeaked. “I have been seeing a few new faces around lately, but not many. Nobody is really interested since You-Know-Who has disappeared.” Harry nodded again. “And what about Dumbledore?” “What about him?” “What are is movements, is he your leader?” “What do I look like to you, some kind of spy?” Mundungus retorted. “Who even are you?” Harry was about to reply when the Dark Lord’s voice sounded in his head. “You have done well, Harry,” he said. “He is no longer of use to you. Dispose of him. Complete your mission.” Harry pulled back from Mundungus and slowly raised his wand. “Hey, wait,” Fletcher spluttered. “W-what are you doing?” Harry’s hand trembled slightly as it rose level with Mundungus’ chest, and he hesitated. “Do it, Harry,” the Dark Lord’s voice hissed inside his head. “Do as you have been bidden. Become a man.” Harry looked cold and hard at his prey. “No! Please!” Mundungus begged. “Avada Kedavra!” Harry bellowed, and there was a flash of green light. Ha rry sat patiently at the head of the table in the living room of Malfoy Manor as his task-force arrived and settled themselves in the seats in front of him. Harry surveyed his troops as they entered and withheld a sneer. His team comprised of low-lives and lesser men, and in one case a werewolf, that were lucky they could call themselves Death Eaters. It had been Bella, who was leading the assault on the Tonks household, who had been given the more prominent Death Eaters as part of her hit squad. The Dark Lord had confidence in Harry’s formidable magical prowess such that he didn’t require significant assistance in carrying out the assault. Harry wasn’t expecting too much resistance. In truth, Harry was just glad he was being ‘unleashed’, so to speak. Until this point, Harry, much like the Dark Lord himself, had been kept in the shadows, hidden from the public eye. The tide had changed, however. The Dark Lord wanted to make a statement, and unleashing Harry, or ‘Scar’, was such a statement. The Dark Lord and the Death Eaters were no longer waiting in the shadows. They were ready for war. Harry stood and silence fell immediately, all eyes rested on him. “The plan is a simple one,” Harry said, his voice carrying cold and clear across the room. “We Apparate to the outskirts of the house, just outside the perimeter of the protective wards. The precise co-ordinates are written down on the pieces of parchment in front of you. I have been given intel on the precise nature of the wards that are in place, and will be able to take them down easily. Once they are down, we strike hard and we strike fast, is that clear? There were several nods and murmurings of agreement around the table. “And,” Harry continued, making direct eye contact with Fenrir Greyback who sat at the far end of the table, one of his own henchmen sitting either side of him. “You strike on my command and my command only. You do as I say and when I say it. Is that clear?” Greyback inclined his hide in agreement, growling hungrily as he did so. “Very well then,” Harry said, making eye contact with each and every one of them. “Move out.” |
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