A Thirst For Blood

A Thirst For Blood


Originally written by becca589

Adopted by Kat Potter

Summary : Harry wakes during the summer after his fifth year to find himself in a cell. He remembers nothing that happened after leaving Hogwarts and he\'s changed. Is he going insane or is it something else? Rated for abuse, violence and rape

Characters : Albus, Harry, Hermione, Remus, Ron, Severus, Voldemort(Tom), Original Character

Genres : Romance, Dark Fic, Angst

Rating : Death Sentence(NC-17)

Warnings : Sexual Content, BD, Non-con, Violence, Adult Language, OOC-ness, Dangerous Muse, Spoilers

Disclaimer: : I do not own anything in the Harry Potter universe and am not making any money from this whatsoever.

An : Chapters 1-8 belong to becca589, with perhaps a few tweaks of mine. The rest belongs to me.

Chapter Two


The cold returned.

The pain, the hunger…

Harry hugged his knees close to his chest as he rocked backwards and forwards, staring at the unmoving body of his old defence professor. Merlin, he hadn’t hated her that much, he didn’t hate anyone enough to kill them, except perhaps Voldemort. It had been days since that fateful event and Harry was sure he was dying.

From what he could see, he had no physical injuries at all but the gnawing, bitter, painful hunger twisting in his stomach was driving him mental. He didn’t understand what was happening to him, why was he like this? What had he done to himself? What had Voldemort done to him? He hated this, hated the utter helplessness, hated the hunger.

At least now he knew what he craved

Blood

But- why?

It hurt so much, his head was pounding again though that too was probably due to the hunger, that and the fact that he hadn’t had a drink of anything (except blood) since he arrived here. He pressed his forehead against his knee and sighed, trying to ease the pain if just a little. He was lonely, so much so that he almost wished Voldemort would just come for him already, just do what he wanted to and leave him in peace.

What was this new torment anyway?

It definitely worked.

Harry bit his lip, staring over at the body again and then closed his eyes and shook his head. In all truths, he was more terrified of himself right now than he was of Voldemort. He was scared of the loneliness mainly; scared of the silent yet loud buzz of the wards, scared of the breath he imagined leaving the woman’s body, scared of living.

“Hush, little baby, don\'t say a word.
Mama\'s gonna buy you a mockingbird”

He sung softly to himself, if just to break the heavy silence. Rocking backwards and forwards as he found a memory of his mother singing this to him when he was a child. He clung to that memory and played it before his closed eyes, letting a tear escape him.

“And if that mockingbird won\'t sing,
Mama\'s gonna buy you a diamond ring”

He watched as his two parents hurried around the house and knew, Voldemort was there. He watched as his mother took baby Harry into her arms and rushed into the bedroom, watched as James prepared to stand and fight, if just to give his wife some time. How he longed to be with them, how he longed to be held in those arms again. He heard footsteps and his head snapped up, maybe now was the time.

“And if that diamond ring turns brass,
Mama\'s gonna buy you a looking glass”

The footsteps echoed down what Harry thought to be a long, narrow hall. He could hear the sounds shifting through the air but he did not panic. He continued to rock and closed his eyes, heard the cruel laugh of Voldemort vibrate through his head, saw the flash of green light as his father fell to the floor with a thud. Never to stand again.

“And if that looking glass gets broke,
Mama\'s gonna buy you a billy goat”

A smile cracked at his lips, tugging at the corners. He could feel them, he could hear their heart beat, could almost taste the blood flowing through their veins from here and knew immediately that two were approaching his cage. Maybe now, this could end, this pain, this suffering, this loneliness. Maybe now he could be set free, free to join his parents, free to see Siri.

“And if that billy goat won\'t pull,
Mama\'s gonna buy you a cart…”

He stopped halfway through as he heard a whispered spell and then the door creaked open, ever so slowly and his eyes finally fell on none other than Thomas Riddle and Bellatrix Lestrange. Harry licked his lips hungrily as the bitch was thrown to the floor and the door shut. The Dark Lord watched him closely but Harry didn’t give a shit, he was once again thrown to his mind and Daemon came forth.

Voldemort stepped forward and grabbed a fist full of Bella\'s hair before Daemon could take even a single step towards her. The Dark Lord smirked and he dragged the edge of his wand down his whores arm, watching Harry intently as the boy’s eyes were fixed on the blood he was drawing. Daemon stepped forward but Voldemort shook his head and pulled her from reach, laughing coldly as Harry’s eyes followed the blood.

“Join me,” he said slowly. “Join me, accept my mark and you can have her…her and any other that takes your fancy. Stand by my side, as my heir and feed as much as you like” he added and Harry stared in horror from inside his mind. He couldn’t do that, he didn’t even want to. He tried shaking his head but again, his body wouldn’t obey. Tears fell as he kicked and screamed, clawing at his mind to escape. This was- it was stupid! He couldn’t do that to Dumbledore, couldn’t do it to himself.

“Please, no” he whispered but he spoke just to himself. The words refused to leave his lips. Daemon paid no attention to the frantic defiance inside his mind. His eyes were locked on the bitch in front of him and he licked his lips. He dragged his eyes away and met with the red ones of the Dark Lord, ones that were filled with amusement and he bared his teeth slightly but let it go. He knew Harry had a deep-seated hatred for both beings inside this room but he also knew the only chance he had of survival was to accept this offer.

He hadn’t fed for three days and yet, here, he was being offered a feast. He knew, if he refused now, Harry would be happy with him but they would both be killed and really, Daemon hated that idea, death was such a bitch. He was hungry and there was food in front of him, Harry would get over it and so he nodded clearly, catching the woman as she was thrown towards him and he sunk his teeth into her quickly, moaning at the taste.

Harry sank back in horror at the obvious agreement he himself had just made. Well, Daemon had. He felt betrayed by himself and that was just the most incredulous feeling and yet it was there. Again, he tried to remember just what had happened to get him here and again, all he could draw was a blank. He started when he heard a clear voice echo around his ‘mind’ that sounded just like him and yet, it wasn’t.

“If he thinks we have joined him willingly, we get let out of this cell and we have more chance of escape.” the voice said and no matter how hard Harry tried, he couldn’t think of anything to dispute that. It was true; there was no way he was going to escape from this cell without going through that door. He was confused and he was still hungry, again his body had warmed considerably and the gnawing hunger in his stomach had died down but it was still there, ready to return with force if he didn’t eat and soon.

“I want food and out of this cage” Harry heard Daemon saying and he started to pay more attention. He watched in a sort of horrified fascination as the Dark Lord smirked and nodded. He watched as Voldemort grabbed his arm and then he gritted his teeth together as he felt a searing burn shoot up the length and closed his eyes, knowing what had just been happened. He was marked.

Dumbledore would never forgive him for this, would never forgive his betrayal because that’s what it is, betrayal. As chains were clamped around his wrist, Harry started to hyperventilate inside his mind…he couldn’t do this. He couldn’t betray himself like this, would Dumbledore even take him back? Would he be rescued or would he have to stay here, with Voldemort? Would he have to serve the man now? He couldn’t do this. Fear gripped at his heart, squeezing it tightly like an iron fist. He would rather die than serve this bastard.

Daemon, still in control fought the urge to role his eyes as he followed the Dark Lord through the corridors and away from his cage. He could hear the thoughts going through Harry’s mind, could feel the panic but he did not care. If they were to get out of this alive, Harry would just have to trust him, have to do what he said or they could both be hurt. Neither of them was ready to challenge this lord and whilst Daemon had no intention of remaining faithful, he would at least act like it. How could he be loyal to the bastard who had hurt his Harry so? No, he would kill Voldemort for all that he had done but he needed time and he needed to actually be alive when that time came.

“You are not free yet,” Voldemort said as they stopped in front of a door “Nor will you be for a long time. I need to know you will not run, if you do what I say then I will have no reason to harm you, my beautiful heir,” he said and cupped Harry’s cheek almost lovingly, Daemon narrowed his eyes but said nothing “Go in there, there are wards surrounding the room, you cannot use magic nor escape so don’t bother trying. Read the book that has been set on the table by tomorrow. Do not attempt to leave or I will be alerted.”

With that last bit of speech, Daemon was pushed through the door to the room and he landed on his back, glaring up at the door that slammed shut and sealed tightly. This was not what he had in mind when he had agreed to this. He needed to test how serious the Dark Lord was when it came to him; he looked at the book he was suppost to read and then he stepped forward, tearing the pages and littering them over the floor. With that done, he threw himself down on the bed and closed his eyes. Humming to himself all the time.

“And if that cart and bull turn over,
Mama\'s going to buy you a dog named Rover”

~*~

Harry stared dumbly up at the ceiling. Trying to get his mind around what had happened so far. He refused point blank to look at his arm though. he couldn’t bear to see the Dark Mark burned into his flesh. What was Daemon? Who was he? Surely he can’t just be someone made up? Maybe he had truly gone insane. Harry shook his head and looked around. The room had dark green walls with a light green carpet. His bedding was green but everything else was either silver or black.

There was a window that he knew couldn’t be opened in the wall to his left and when he looked out, he just saw fields and trees for miles. No sign of anything out there, he had a bed, a desk, a table, a bookshelf, a fireplace, two chairs and a wardrobe in this room but there was also a door, which led to a bathroom. At least this was an upgrade from the cage he was in before. To think he had to kill two people to get here as well, it wasn’t worth it.

He was still freezing but for the life of him, he couldn’t give a shit. He was too busy trying to sort out the mess of his head. He was so confused, he just thought perhaps it was all a dream and he’d wake up now, any minute, in his bed at the Dursleys. But no matter how much he told himself that, how much he wanted that, he knew it was not true. The taste of that blood had been too real, his craving; his hunger had been too real. What was happening to him?

He spared a fleeting thought to wonder what the order was doing. Were they still ok? Were they looking for him? Merlin, he hoped so, he didn’t think he could cope with being here much longer but then again, why would they look for him? After all he had done, his parting words to Dumbledore were still floating around his mind now. They had no reason to want him to return and he couldn’t blame them for it.

He was cold still, his lungs once again felt to be wrapped tightly in ice but at least the pain in his head had somewhat lessened. Sighing, he kicked his feet over the edge of the bed, trying to find something to do and then deciding on a shower. He must have been here for at least a week now, maybe more, yet it felt like years. Before he could even reach the bathroom though, there was a knock on the door and then it creaked open.

Anger swelled in Harry’s chest before he could even think about it and he bared his teeth, snarling at the pathetic figure that dared to come before him. His eyes flashed from emerald green to gold and he shot forward, his hand curling around the mans throat, Daemon smirked as he lifted the creature into the air, looking into those panicked eyes, this thing, this human, had hurt his Harry.

“Our lord wants you washed and dressed in the robes from the wardrobe. He will come to question you on the book,” Wormtail squeaked, struggling to free himself and gripping at the hands that grasped him tighter. His breath came in short, sharp gasps and Daemon tilted his head to the side, a cold smile tugging at his lips as he felt the struggles weaken. He yanked the man closer until their bodies were pressed together and then he bit down, ripping the flesh from his neck and drinking. No more than a few drops fell down his throat before he turned his head to the side and spat it back out, glaring daggers at the so-called man before him.

“Even your blood is foul, you disgusting creature,” he snarled before he reached out with his free hand and turned Wormtail’s head sharply to the left. He watched as the body fell to the floor unmoving, watched as the door resealed itself and then continued on to the bathroom, his eyes flashing emerald again and Harry started humming to himself. He undressed and turned the water on but before he stepped under the shower, he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror and he just had to stare.

His skin was as white as snow and looked as smooth and soft as silk, his green eyes literally seemed to glow against his pale complexion but what grabbed his attention mostly was his figure. He had grown to about 6 feet tall; he had firm muscles on his arms and a very prominent six-pack. His soft brown hair fell lightly against his shoulders and across his chest were a few horribly marred scars. He trailed his finger across one of them and frowned, what had happened there? When had he received those? Had he been here longer than he could remember? Was he tortured?

He turned and looked in the mirror, over his shoulder at what little of his back he could see and his jaw dropped open. All across his back and his shoulder blades were more of these scars, all seemed to be of the same width but different lengths. If he had to guess, he would say they were from a whip…and some from a belt but who on earth would bother with the muggle form of torture? Just what the fuck had been going on? Just seeing them made his heart drop to his stomach, it was like his body remembered whilst his mind refused to.

He managed to drag his eyes away after a minute and finally stepped into the shower, letting the cold-water fall about him as he just stared dumbly at the wall and then something else hit him. Images flashed before his eyes and his knees gave out from under him. He had just killed Peter Pettigrew, he, himself, had just killed the betrayer of his parents. Why didn’t he feel bad about that? He felt nothing, no joy yet no fear, just a numbness that spread through his insides, freezing him more effectively than the cold water was doing to the outside.

He slid down the wall, his confusion all but doubled. What was happening to him? What was he becoming? He was a monster, three people in the space of four days he had killed and yet, he still breathed. He did not deserve to be rescued but if he stayed here, Merlin only knew how many more he would attack. He wished Dumbledore would just come, take him away and lock him up or kill him. Maybe he could provoke the Dark Lord into killing him…it was worth a shot.

He would later come to regret that decision.

~tbc~