The Embrace of Darkness

Chapter 7

Harry lay quietly in his bed, going over all the changes he had undergone. First was his meeting with Voldemort, his joining with Cookie, his confrontation with Dumbledore... He knew he was no longer the boy he had been. He couldn’t be. He had matured, his eyes had opened, his innocence was subdued, and he was on the brink of manhood. He wondered what his parents would think of him now, with his Slytherin side showing. He smiled a secret smile as sleep overtook him.

(Dream)

Harry was in a bland, non discrepant sitting room. Grey walls, thread bare muddy-brown carpet, and two worn chairs. In one sat Voldemort. He smiled to himself, seeing the ruby-eyed man waiting for him. Before the older man could say so much as a single word, Harry spoke.

“I will always remember your promise and I will join you. I don't know if I can immediately plunge into a romantic or sexual relationship, but I will be on your side, fighting with you, partners at the least, if not more.” Harry smiled at the evil Dark Lord and placed a light kiss on his forehead before taking his own seat.

The Dark Lord smiled at the gesture and watched as the young boy arranged himself comfortably. “There are things we need to discuss, you and I. The first is whether or not you wish to be open about your change of heart, or wish to conceal it.”

The Griffindor scratched his nose while he thought about all the possibilities. He had actually discussed this with Cookie, but was reviewing it just in case. She and he were in agreement on this. “I will put myself into a political limbo, the centre of a triangle if you will. Dumbledore at one point, you on the second, and the Ministry on the third. I hope to lead by example, show people that they should truly think about all three options before deciding. What do you think?”

“A wonderful notion. However, I think a fourth option should be available to those who do not wish to choose a side. The consideration and lack of pressure to choose should put me and mine into a better light, especially if the other two groups try to force them. For the interim, we could put you in the position of unofficial leader of this fourth group.”

“It has possibilities, but it may not be the best choice if we plan on eventually having me publicly on your side. They may feel betrayed that I didn't sustain neutrality. It may be better to simply remain a more prominent member of that group.” An image flickered on the wall behind Voldemort, a flash of colour and shape before it was gone.

“Now that you mention it, that does sound more reasonable.” Another flickering image, green eyes...

“What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing you need concern yourself with.” The Dark Lord projected an image of unconcerned reflection. It was completely effortless and the perfect mask, but for the image of a naked and very aroused Harry floated on the wall behind him. It was a fanciful view of him, golden sweaty skin, engorged and carmine member, lean limbs writhing against a backdrop of black satin.

Harry smiled, and tried to suppress the urge to laugh mockingly, instead simply pointing to the fantasy. The older man turned and groaned, covering his eyes before twisting back. “Bugger.”

“Don't worry about it, Marvolo. It's actually rather flattering.” He rose to leave, but paused by the serpentine man. He leaned down and hesitantly pressed his lips against the other's mouth, his tongue flicking out in a teasing caress before he was gone.

(End Dream)

When Harry woke, it was with a smile on his face and the taste of the most feared wizard in the United Kingdom lingering on his tongue. The phantom sensation of a kiss bloomed and faded on the skin his neck, sending brief shivers down his spine and on to his morning erection. Then it came to him. He was fifteen. Today was his birthday.

A soft knock sounded on his door a few minute later.”Harry...?”

“Yeah, 'Moine?”

“Are you decent? 'Cause Mrs Weasley wants to serve you breakfast in bed.”

“Give me a moment.” He tried to find a mental image capable of banishing the arousal between his thighs
while pulling the duvet over his lap. 'Filch in a sequinned bikini... Hagrid and Flitwick snogging... Dumbledore and Ginny doing the nasty.' His cock shrivelled and deflated faster than a popped balloon at the last thought. Dumbledore was old and wrinkly and old, and Ginny was so... boyishly female and not in the good way. She just did not appeal to him. Harry liked his girls girly and his men manly.

“It's safe.” Hermione opened the door with a small smile, leading the way for the entire Weasley clan to enter, singing him the 'Happy Birthday' anthem followed by 'He's a Jolly Good Fellow'. Once a tray of hot breakfast was placed in his lap, people started to trickle out of his room, leaving him alone with Ron and Hermione.

*Cookie? How are they taking it? I assume someone told them about you and the prophecy.* Harry quietly ate his breakfast, lingering over his tea without seeming nervous or hesitant.

*Hermione is in shock and has a one in three chance of siding with Dumbledore over you. She respects authority ad you have walked all over her perception of the man. She may prefer to turn a blind eye. Ronald... he's jealous, again. He doesn't like that you are destined for great things, that you have almost unlimited power, that you are the one who always gets the attention. He'll either finally grow up or desert you forever.*

“How are you guys doing? I missed you both over the summer.” Harry gave them a small, tired smile. He actually was tire, but the illusion of overworked and still injured would either aid or destroy him in the coming conversation.

“I'm... I'm okay. Harry...” Hermione bowed her head and scrubbed at her face

“I know you both have things you want to ask and things you want to say. Now's the best time to say and ask them, while I'm too bloody tired to fight back.” He gave them both a half smile. It only seemed to drive Ron closer to an apoplexy.

“That's it! Who the hell do you think you are? First the whole Triwizard thing, then the hospitalization, now a prophecy? I can't take it! I bet you're doing all of it for the attention!” Hemione made to speak, to intervene, but Harry motioned her to be still. Ron needed to get this off his chest. “Bloody Boy-Who-Lived! We saw the Prophet! There wasn't a single mention of either 'Moine or I in any of your heroic adventures! It's always al about you! I can't-”

“What?” Harry's voice was low and quiet, but it commanded their attention faster than a thunderclap. Harry went about methodically and slowly cursing. “Bloody fucking, mother buggering, ass kissing, troll whoring, sons of Satan! Harry gathered the necessary materials to write a Howler.

“Skribbly, you ass fucker! I said the entire truth and nothing but the truth, you left-handed wanker! You left out integral-fucking-pieces of information from my interview! I told you there would be fucking consequences to anyone doing as you have done! I have controlling bloody shares of the bloody Prophet. Consider yourself FIRED!! I want a special evening edition printed with an apology and the entire story or I'll sell the paper off piece by piece!” With that, Harry calmly folded the paper and sent Hedwig off with it. “Please, continue.”

Both teens had a wide eyed look on there faces that Harry had a hard time not laughing at. They were slack jawed and gaping at him in a rather unattractive manner. He could see a bit of egg on Ron's back molar.

“Bloody hell, Harry! I've never heard you swear like that.” Harry smiled serenely and waited to see if Ron would start up his tirade. Nope, seemed like it was Hermione's turn.

“Harry that was completely inappropriate! You can't fire that poor man simply because he made a mistake! Just because the Headmaster gives you free reign doesn't mean it applies outside school. You have to stop playing around and grow up!”

Harry stared at her coolly. “Once you have lived through ten years of abuse, three life or death fights with Voldemort, a dragon attack, being pushed down the stairs, the manipulations of Fate and Destiny, a sword fight with a basilisk, only then may you tell me to grow up. If you survive that is.”

Hermione huffed, knowing he had a very good point. “The Headmaster deserves respect! You showed him none. He probably had a very good reason for hiding the prphecy, and then you go and blab it to the whole world! You walked all over his authority during the Order meeting. If that isn't immature, I don't know what is.”

“Then I shall have to buy you a dictionary for Christmas. Immaturity is being undeveloped, childish. I have never been a child, Hermione Granger. If you read that paper, you should have seen that. I will give Albus respect when he has earned it, and not a moment before. Age does not equal wisdom and authority does not equal respect. Pull you head out of the books and wake up. We are entering a war. We need everyone informed and working together. He is trying to keep us ignorant and suspicious of one another. Pick your side, for I won't stand with Albus or Fudge.”

“You've made the wrong choice, Harry.” Hermione got up and left, quietly closing the door behind herself.

“Harry...she won't ever defy true authority. She thinks Dumbledore is the be-all end-all of authority figures.”

“I know Ron. I know.”

And so the trio splits, and the dynamics of the war begin to be seen.