The Fallen

This story is based on characters and situations owned by JK Rowling, and various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books, and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No copywrite or trademark infringement is intended.

3/3

Harry doesn’t know what is wrong with him lately. He always seems sick. Every time the slender boy awakens from his deep slumber nestled next to the Dark Lord he has to make a mad dash to the loo in order to purge the contents of his belly from his mouth. This morning the routine remains the same with Harry bent over the toilet, however this time, once Harry leaves the restroom he is met with the curious gaze of the Dark Lord.

“Potter, do you always have to hog the loo first thing in the morning?” Harry just shrugs his shoulders slightly as the Dark Lord walks pass him into the restroom. Harry is deeply glad of the silencing charm around the restroom so that the Dark Lord doesn’t hear him when he’s in one of his sick moods. The queasiness usually goes away after a few short minutes so what’s the point in letting the whole world know about it anyway?

When the Dark Lord exits the bathroom Harry is fully dressed and waiting by the door. “Well,” Lord Voldemort says as he buttons up his robe, “Severus seems to be mistaken about the state you are in. For some reason he believes that you have been feeling ill lately, but I daresay that you are practically glowing.”

Harry gives Voldemort a weak smile as the man chuckles softly. Once Voldemort robe is done up all the way he walks over to Harry and takes the boy’s arm within his own. The walk to the throne room is short and uneventful. Most of the Death Eaters in the premise are already in the Great Hall, awaiting their Lord’s arrival. The select few who are not are on patrol duty.

When Harry enters the Great Hall on the arm of the Dark Lord the once great hero can’t help but frown at the amount of Death Eater’s permeating the place. A few short weeks ago the throne room was nearly void of all life however more and more witches and wizards seem to join Voldemort’s faction everyday. Harry expects to feel despair at this realization, however all he feels is slight nervousness as all the eyes in the room turn to focus on him and Voldemort. He knows what is going through most of their minds: Harry Potter—The boy-who-lived turned whore. The Fallen indeed, as there is no way Harry can possible sink any lower than his unofficial title as the Dark Lord’s catamite.

“Something on your mind, Potter?”

“No,” Harry says softly as Voldemort leads him more fully into the room.

The walk to the head table is shrouded in silence as the whole room gives their Lord their respect and undivided attention. When Lord Voldemort settles into his seat at the head of the table, with Harry sitting at his left, Voldemort claps his hands twice and in magic closely resembling Hogwarts’ the table fills up with food quicker than one can say ‘quidditch.’ It is barely a second later that Harry is seen stuffing his face with all the wonderful food laid out on the almost too long table.

Voldemort lets out a short snort at the undignified behavior but ignores that messy haired boy in favor of speaking to Lucius who is currently sitting on his right. The Dark Lord knows that the time is drawing near when he shall take the wizarding world for his own and as such he needs to speak with his second to make sure that all plans are being finalized.

“Potter, what in Merlin’s name are you eating?”

At the sound of the voice, Severus’ who is sitting stiffly between Lucius and Narcissa, the Dark Lord turns to look at his charge. The Dark Lord lets out a soft chuckle, his eyes opening wide in shock as he once more eyes the ridiculously large amount of food that the Potter boy is consuming. The most shocking of which appears to be a jelly donut topped with pickles.

“Potter,” the Dark Lord says after he gets the boys attention. “Please refrain from making a public spectacle of yourself by eating a most disgusting combination of food.”

As the Dark Lord’s words sink in Harry face turns a bright red of embarrassment before he drops the jelly donut back to his plate. “I—I’m sorry, my Lord. I shall not do it again.”

The Dark Lord just shrugs his shoulders in indifference before turning back to Lucius.

***

That night the Dark Lord makes a speech for all of his Death Eaters before he lets them relax for their meal:

“My most loyal and faithful Death Eaters, our day of reckoning is soon upon us. In just two weeks time we shall launch out a full scale attack against the Ministry and against Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.” The once silent hall quickly fills with the sound of cheering and Voldemort lets the noise mount for a few seconds before raising up his hand, instantly silencing the hall. “We shall bring the wizarding world to it’s knees, and when I have placed myself and my pawns—you my most loyal and faithful—in your rightful places of power, we shall rebuild this world into the image of my choosing.

“With the Wizengamot and the Ministry under my heel, and with the children of the wizarding world held in the palm of my hand, none of the mass of mindless followers shall go against us!” There is a loud cheer of triumph heard all around the throne room and this time Voldemort lets the deafening noise go one a few minutes before he raises his hands once more, silencing the hall with his all commanding presence. “My followers, the time of reckoning is upon us and none shall be spared from its wrath. Only those who have served me and have remained faithful to me shall prosper from the fruits of our labor, for I reward all of my followers—even the traitors.”

A shiver goes through all the Death Eaters sitting in the throne room and Voldemort just smiles his evil smile before clapping his hands, letting the table groan under the weight of a multitude of different food.

***

“Potter, I have a task for you.”

“Yes, my Lord?”

The Dark Lord chuckles at Harry’s cautious tone before gesturing for the boy to come closer. Without any hesitation Harry walks up to the Dark Lord, raising his head slightly so that he can meet the red eyes under his long dark lashes. The Dark Lord lets out a tsk before reaching his hand under Harry’s chin, using his long fingers to angle the boy’s head up higher until green meets red full on.

“Even my followers may look me in the eye, dear boy; it is much easier to do legilimens with eye contact.” Lord Voldemort smiles wolfishly at the shiver that goes through Harry’s body. Absently the Dark Lord strokes his forefinger back and forth over Harry’s soft skin, “However, sweet Harry, you have remained in my bed for nearly two months now and I must say that I do so enjoy your company. I don’t feel the need to replace you with another so your status as my lover is safe. Does this please you, Harry?” the Dark Lord asks, voice going husky as he lowers his head until it is nearly an inch away from Potter’s.

“Aye, my Lord. It pleases me.”

Voldemort smirks down at Harry in pleasure before he meets the boy’s lips with his own. The kiss starts out slow and Potter’s body goes stiff at the uncommon display of affection. Voldemort, though, is persistent. The Dark Lord wraps one hand in Harry’s hair and the other around the boy’s waist, pulling Potter flush against his body.

It takes a few seconds of probing but eventually Harry opens his mouth to the Dark Lord, allowing Voldemort entrance into the slick cavern. Voldemort takes full advantage of the moment, plunging his tongue deep until the tension in Harry’s body leaves the boy, stroking his tongue against Harry’s until the black haired boy moans in pleasure.

When the Dark Lord releases Harry’s mouth the boy is flushed, his eyes glazed, and his hands desperately gripping the front of Voldemort’s robe. “Harry,” Voldemort says, bringing his hand up from Harry’s waist in order to stroke Potter’s lips, swollen from Voldemort’s affections. “Severus tells me that you hold in your possession an invisibility cloak.”

“Yes, my Lord. However all of my possession bar my wand is currently at the Weasley residence.”

“Hmm, yes, I had figured as much. Because Severus was in Dumbledore’s pathetic order he knows the layout of The Burrow, as I am told it is called, and as such he shall accompany you to the residence.”

“My Lord, please,” gasps out Harry, his hold on Voldemort’s robe tightening. If there is nothing in the world that Harry wants it is for him to be writhen five feet of either Severus or Draco. Yet worse than that he does not ever want to be seen by another Weasley again. “Please reconsider, my Lord. I will do anything, anything for you! But not this my Lord, please.” There are tears falling from Harry’s eyes and in desperation the boy crumbles to the floor, hands still clutching tightly to the Dark Lord’s robes.

Voldemort shakes his robe out of Harry’s hands before scoffing down at the boy, “Potter you are pathetic. Get up, I am not asking you to kill any one of your precious Gryffindors,” Voldemort spits out the word precious as if it were poison. “All I am requesting of your pathetic hide is for you to sneak into the Weasley’s home and retrieve this invisibility cloak. It is vital to my plans.”

Slowly the tears leaking from Harry’s eyes disappear, drying on his cheeks as he realizes what exactly the Dark Lord is asking of him. “Oh! My Lord, thank you, thank you,” Harry says over and over in between kisses to the hem of the Dark Lord’s robe.

Voldemort just grunts before pulling the boy up to his feet. “Potter, I shall not ask anything impossible of you. Indeed I shall not even ask for your assistance next week when my Death Eater’s and I take over the wizarding world. However, for your own good I hope you understand the inevitable tide of this war. As you are currently operating you shall receive some honor in the new world as you are my catamite, but not much, Potter. For your sake I hope that you enjoy the position of power, or lack thereof, that you shall be in come next week.”

With those words said the Dark Lord issues a spell to remove all of the wrinkles from his robe before he exits the room, leaving Harry to his inner battle on love and war; to the boon he owes his parents and to the wizarding world, and to the one that the wizarding world owes to himself.

***

“Come on, Potter, I don’t have all day. I actually have a job you know, unlike some people who just spreads their legs for Dark Lords.”

Harry just bites down on his bottom lip. Hard. He refuses to respond to Snape’s insults, and as he draws blood, Harry is sure that the man is only trying to goad a reaction out of him. However, Harry does speed up his movements—he wants this mission to be over just as much as Snape does.

“The Weasleys keep a spare key under the doormat. It keys anyone into the wards.”

Snape just snorts in disgust at the idiotic behavior of the Weasleys before he bends down. And sure enough, under the drab welcome mat is a dusty silver key. Snape raises his hands to his lips, gesturing for Harry to not make another sound, though the man has already spelled both of their movements silent.

The door makes a soft click as Snape slides the key in and the man can’t help the small wince as the old thing squeaks on its hinges. Both males wait in silence, barely letting in a breath of air as they see if anyone will come down to investigate the noise. No one does, and after a few more minutes of nearly non existent breathing Harry and Severus enter the Burrow.

“Where is this cloak of yours, Potter?” Snape growls out softly as they make their way through the living room in near darkness. Neither man dare use a lumus but maneuvering the darkened room is easy enough as both Severus and Harry had been to the Burrow enough times to have memorized the layout.

“Ron’s room,” Harry whispers back and when Snape lets out another snort of disgust Harry has to bite his bottom lip even harder.

The two walk silently up the stares, wands at the ready as every noise seems to be maximized in it’s loudness. When they finally reach Ron’s room Snape opens the door cautiously. Though Ron is expected to be at Hogwarts one should never assume things, especially in a situation such as this. So it is with an immobilization spell already on Snape’s lips that he eases the door open.

The two mean gingerly step in the room and close the door softly behind them. The darkness makes it hard to see whether someone is asleep in the bed or not so Snape gives a sharp nod to Harry. Taking the cue Harry whispers out a lumus and it is in the bright blue light that the tension in both of their bodies leaves. The room is empty of any type of human presence thus making their mission all the easier.

“Hurry, boy,” Snape mutters to Harry. “I have a potion that needs looking after.”

Harry doesn’t bother to answer Snape though he does go to his trunk which is still sitting innocently at the foot of Ron’s bed. When Harry opens the lid he notices that most of his things have been rifled though but he ignores that. The thing that Harry wants, his invisibility cloak, is hidden in a compartment that Harry had told no one of. When Harry clicks the latch on the side of his trunk he can’t help the small sigh of relief as he pulls out the silky material.

“Well, do you have it, Potter?”

“Yes,” Harry says softly as he closes the trunk back. The purpose of the mission is for them not to be seen, or for that matter, their presence even hinted at. When Harry walks back over to Snape the man holds out his hand and Harry hands him the invisibility cloak. “Wouldn’t it be better if we used that right now?” Harry asks as Snape minimizes the cloak before pocketing it in his robe.

“No, Potter. The both of us cannot fit under this cloak so it will neither help nor quicken our mission if one of us were to use it. Better that you do not use it so that I may keep an eye on you.”

“I am not a child,” Harry growls out, “I do not need looking after.”

Snape lets out a snort before turning to face Harry fully. “Potter, you are an underage wizard, therefore you are indeed a child. Besides, have you forgotten the tower incident of only a few months ago? Shall I remind you?”

“That is not necessary,” Harry squeezes out through clenched teeth.

Snape just lets out another snort. “Even if what you were saying wasn’t utter bullocks my Lord has bid me to watch after you so that is what I shall do. Now come on, we have already dallied enough.”

Harry mutters out an angry nox, banishing his lumus so that Snape can open the room door once more. Leaving the Burrow seems to take much less time than entering, and when the two of them make it outside of the slightly lopsided house Snape returns the key under the doormat.

“Come on,” Snape says as he takes Harry’s arm in his hand. Once the two of them make it pass the anti-appariation wards Snape will appariate him and the boy back to his Lord.

Harry wants to tell Snape not to touch him but he keeps his mouth shut. The quicker they leave the Burrow, the better. Snape seems to have a similar thought as Harry because he is walking in a pace faster than usual and Harry quickens his own pace so that he can keep up. The two men are less than a yard away from the anti-appariation wards when a loud voice yells out, “Sectumsempra!”

Harry lets out a sharp gasp of pain as he stumbles to the ground. Snape bends down to help the boy up, hastily casting a protego as he does so. “I knew you would come,” they hear Ron scream. “I knew you wouldn’t forget about your Father’s cloak,” Ron yells out another curse but it doesn’t get past Snape’s shield. “I put a spell on the trunk, to let me know if anyone went through it. I knew you would come back Harry. I knew it!”

“Come on,” Snape mutters out to Harry. If this were solely his mission he would fight the boy but his Lord needs for them to return as soon as possible and he really has no designs to fight while he has dead weight. The Dark Lord will have Snape’s head for the damage already done to the idiot Potter boy.

Ron is getting closer to the two, and Snape is getting more impatient, but when Harry tries to rise up from the ground, even with Snape’s help he can’t do it. “Oh, for the love of Merlin,” Snape mutters out as he resigns himself to the fact that he will have to carry the boy.

Ron’s red hair is getting closer and closer and the protego that Snape had conjured is already quivering from exhaustion. Snape lets out a grunt of displeasure as he picks the boy up before running the short distance pass the anti-apparation wards. When Snape makes it pass the wards he appariates immediately. Absently Snape deducts that Ron must have floo’d from Hogwarts as he came from the direction of the Burrow.

***

“My Lord, it would be best if you punished Snape after the boy is fully healed. Snape is the best medi-wizard we have trained here, my Lord. It would not be wise to make him incapable of carrying out his craft.”

The Dark Lord snarls at Lucius but he doesn’t curse him. Or Severus. Really he doesn’t even want to curse Severus. What he wants is that Weasley’s boy head on a stake, or better yet a silver platter. “Narcissa,” Voldemort says, getting the pale woman’s attention. “Go. It is breakfast time my Death Eaters should be waiting. Tell the masses that our takeover shall be bumped up a week. I want the wizarding world on it’s knees by sundown tomorrow.”

“Yes, my Lord,” the blond woman says before she quickly exits the room.

“We have been here all night, Severus. Can you work no faster! Aren’t you supposed to be the greatest Potions Master in over a century?”

“I am sorry, my Lord. Medi-Wizardry was but a minor and though I may have exceptional skills in potions Potter is in a delicate state right now. He was hit with a dark curse—sectumsempra—in his abdomen. Though I have stopped the bleeding the spell is still working its magic on the boy, and his…unborn child, my Lord.”

There is a short silence before Voldemort breaks it with a hiss that nearly sounds like parseltongue. “What did you say, Severus?”

Severus swallows thickly before meeting his Lord’s eyes. “My Lord, the boy is almost two months pregnant. If he were not in his present state the curse would not be effecting him so strongly. However, the child is magical, and as such it is siphoning off Harry’s magic as magical children are wont to do.”

Voldemort stares at Severus dazedly before sitting down in a beside chair. As Severus continues to work on the boy Voldemort wonders how he could have missed all of the signs of pregnancy. How could any of them have missed the signs? Male pregnancy, though rare, are not unheard of. Yet never in a million years would anyone believe that the Dark Lord and the once boy-who-lived could conceive a child together. Though both Voldemort and Harry are strong wizards, in order for the two to have a baby together there would need to be a bond between them. Yet, the Dark Lord had not bonded to the boy, and even though they were lovers they most definitely weren’t in love. The concept that Harry is pregnant with his child is, to be frankly honest, mind boggling.

Lucius thoughts seem to shadow Voldemorts own, because a minute later the pale blond is asking Voldemort how in the world the boy can possibly be pregnant. “I am not sure, Lucius. As you well know, the boy and I do not have a bond.”

The soft snort that Severus makes has both Voldemort’s and Lucius’ eyes turning to him. “My Lord, surely you are jesting!” When Voldemort doesn’t answer him Snape’s dark eyes grow wide. The Potions Master sucks in a deep breath of air before swallowing thickly, “My Lord, you and Potter have shared a bond since birth. When you gave him that scar, it marked him as your equal, and created the bond between the two of you.”

“Severus, you are right about that, however you are mistaken. The bond that was created that night was one of anger and rage. Hate even, with the intent to kill. There is no way that bond could have created life. Even when Potter joined our side, if I touched his curse mark, he would be in unspeakable pain. A good conjecture, Severus, I assure you. However, it is undeniably wrong.”

The room returns to silence for a few minutes as they all stare down at Harry Potter. The tanned boy is unnaturally pale from blood loss and from his internal battle against the effects of the residual dark magic from sectumsempra. The silence stretches on for a few more minutes before Severus breaks, “My Lord, when was the last time that you touched Potter’s curse scar?”

“Not in a few months, Severus.”

“I believe, my Lord, that since Potter has become your lover the effect that you have on his scar might have changed. If you would be so kind as to oblige me, please, touch his scar, my Lord, and let us see if my hypothesis is correct.”

Hesitantly Voldemort reaches his hand over the boy. He does not wish to hurt him and Voldemort tells himself that it is due to the fact that the boy is carrying his son. Yes, a son. Voldemort can feel it. He will have a son and it will be as powerful, no, more powerful than either him or Harry. His son will be raised like a prince in the new world that the Dark Lord will fashion for him and one day he will grow to be it’s King.

“If my touch hurts the boy, as I suspect it shall, or if it does any untoward harm towards my unborn child, death will look like a blessing. Do you understand, Severus?”

Severus’ adam’s apple bobs up and down as he swallows convulsively but the man nods his head in agreement. “I understand, my Lord.”

The Dark Lord holds his breath as he lowers his hand to Harry’s forehead. The first thing that the Dark Lord notices is how hot Harry’s flesh is. The next thing is that the boy isn’t moaning or convulsing in pain. Voldemort quirks an eyebrow in surprise, about to remove his hand from Harry’s flesh when the boy lets out a soft moan.

“…”

“What was that, Harry? Did you say something?” Voldemort asks, hand still resting on Harry’s head.

“…please.”

“My Lord, Potter is not in his right mind. The boy is having a fever.”

“Please…please, don’t. Don’t leave. I—I…” The Dark Lord makes to remove his hand, believing that his touch may have caused the boy more harm than good, even if he isn’t screaming in agony. Yet, when the Dark Lord draws his hand back Harry follows the touch. “…please,” the boy mumbles out again.

“My Lord,” Severus says, wand raised in the air. “Perhaps you should climb in the bed with the boy. I have put a monitoring charm on him and already his fever has gone down. I believe that with your touch both Potter and your child shall make it through.”

Quickly the Dark Lord climbs in bed with Harry, and almost immediately the boy wraps his body around Voldemort’s. Severus closes the curtains around the bed to give his Lord privacy though the greasy haired man leaves the monitoring charms on Harry active. Just in case, though deep down inside Severus knows that the spells won’t be necessary. Potter has a knack for cheating death, and there is no way, with both his bond mate and the best Potions Master in over a century looking after him, that Harry will succumb to the unknown.

Tbc...

a/n please don’t be mad at me but I am ending it here as I believe this is a good place to cut it. I have decided to have the epilogue after all so look out for it…anyway, hope you all enjoyed, ciao