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Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Voldemort
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
10
Views:
79,620
Reviews:
29
Recommended:
2
Currently Reading:
4
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Voldemort
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
10
Views:
79,620
Reviews:
29
Recommended:
2
Currently Reading:
4
Disclaimer:
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and I do not make any money from these writings.
Dinner Party Delights: The Guests Arrive
I could not look away this time, Neville’s fate was my fault and I knew I had to face what had happened to him. The grand doors opened magically and my jaw dropped open almost hitting the floor. Neville looked like himself. Neville was dressed normally in khaki pants and a red button-down Oxford, the only thing out of the ordinary was a collar wrapped around his neck and his apparent lack of shoes. The Master of the pair walked boldly a step ahead of the boy who was once a friend of mine and a fellow Gryffindor. Neville was the first slave I had seen who looked unchanged, I had hopes that this meant he was treated much better. I was always curious as to what kind of psychopath had married Bellatrix, and now apparently I had my answer. Rodolphus Lestrange was a handsome man in a black robe that spayed out behind him. His powerful build was eminent and he obviously flaunted it to anyone who would look. The hall was silent except for the clack of a pair of simple black shoes and the sound of bare feet on the floor. He paused before the table flashing a brilliantly white smile bowing deeply at Voldemort and giving a small nod to his wife. His hair was a light brown that seemed to fall effortlessly around his hard-set jaw and high cheek bones framing his tanned features. I looked up at Voldemort to see a certain amount of lust towards his Death Eater. Rodolphus was getting stared at from every person in the room and it was obvious he was a much wanted commodity. I tried to understand how a man like that ever ended up with a woman like Bellatrix, but that thought was pushed aside instantly when Neville slipped under his Master’s arm settling there with a smile.
“My Lord, I’m sure you know Neville Longbottom.”
Neville bowed looking more graceful than I had ever seen him. This whole thing seemed surreal! Ron was a girl, Ginny was a slut, Mrs. And Mr. Weasley bowed down to the Malfoys, Hermione was broken and now Neville was snuggled against one of the men who tortured his parents into insanity. Rodolphus took his seat next to his wife and Neville took a slightly lower seat at his side. It seemed like Neville was not a slave at all. Voldemort was obviously poking around in my mind because he spoke up with a small smile.
“Rodolphus, please explain your situation to my dear slave. He seems to be confused.”
“I think I shall let Neville explain his plight.”
Neville looked up at Rolophus and mumbled a thank you looking up adoringly at him.
“Harry, I need this. I never realized that I liked to be controlled until I was enslaved. I am a slave by choice unlike you; I have fallen in love with Rodolphus. He gave me the choice to leave, I refused. In the house I am well taken care of, loved, and appreciated. I’ve been learning more than I ever did in school while in their house. I’m not afraid anymore, Harry.”
“How could you do this, Neville? How could you bow down to him? That man! That man tortured your parents!”
Neville let out a deep sigh closing his eyes for a moment before resting against Rodolphus’s shoulder.
“Enough. Tonight is a night of celebration. If you two would like to continue your depressing conversation some other time that would be welcome.”
Voldemort’s voice rang out across the entire hall and Neville immediately stopped speaking shrinking back into his seat. There was a cold hand on the back of my neck before I could argue and the hard grip silenced me without a command. Suddenly a scream bounced off every wall in the grand hall and we all turned our heads to look at the source of the shocking sound.
“Ginny?”
My eyebrow raised and the confusion was nearly tangible in the heavy heat, then the hot scent of sex crept through the air. Every set of eyes rested upon the small red head for only a moment and then realization dawned on everyone in the room. Even through the tension on the previous conversation Malfoy’s hand had not left Ginny’s engorged little clit. We continued to stare at her until a house elf appeared to announce the arrival of several more guests all arriving at once. Everyone settled and greeted the newest guests as they flew through the doors.
“Welcome to all of you.”
The rest of the next hour was a blur in my mind, I just hid under the table and cried as I watched the rest of the followers enter with my slave friends. Some of the former Hogwarts students and Dumbledore supporters were obviously sexual slaves, but others were dressed similarly to house elves with dirty sacks covering their shivering bodies.
“Welcome to my grand home,” Voldemort stood as he spoke addressing the mass of Death Eaters and servants.
The amount of followers had seemed to double since the final fall of the light. I later found that many of the most loyal Death Eaters had been hidden among high Ministry ranks and many other powerful positions in the wizarding world.
“Before we begin the feast, it seems there is some business that needs to be settled.”
At that moment a familiar face was dragged through the door by a Death Eater I did not recognize. Professor Minerva McGonagall was obviously unconscious and was thrown down in front of my Master, and a cry built up inside me. I surged forward but Voldemort tangled a hand in my hair before I could move holding me back. He whispered an order to stay and I was unable to resist for even an inch.
“This woman is no longer useful and has become only a burden. It is obvious that she is disillusioned into thinking the war is still at hand. She will not accept the fact that she has lost. Let her fate be a lesson to any slave who dares to defy their Masters or any Masters who dare defy me.”
Voldemort literally floated over the table to stand before Professor McGonagall. With a bit of wand work the woman who used to amaze me and whom I formerly admired awoke with a blood-curdling scream. A growl suddenly began to build in my chest as my Master kicked the poor woman onto her back.
“Do you have any last words, Minerva?”
“Dumbledore will defeat you in the end! Harry Potter will kill you again! Evil will never win!”
Her statement caused a rumble of cruel laughter to spread through the Masters and Mistresses of the crowd.
Voldemort magically lifted her into the air placing her bent over on a whipping bench that had been pushed out by two shaking house elves.
“DON’T!” I screamed begging for her life to be spared but I was silenced by a firm command.
My eyes fell to my sides on my friends, the present Weasleys were huddled into a circle on the floor obviously comforting each other, Hermione was shaking violently at her Mistress’s feet and Neville had his head resting on his Master’s shoulder looking away from what was happening. I studied Neville and Rodulphus while Voldemort strapped a struggling Professor McGonagall down to the bench. Interestingly enough the husband of the cruelest woman I had ever had the displeasure to know was stroking Neville’s hair tenderly occasionally placing kisses on the top of the boy’s head. I gagged at the obvious love and intimacy radiating from the pair. Rodolphus pulled Neville into his lap letting him keep his eyes turned away.
“Bring my whip.”
The words from Voldemort snapped my attention back to the bench where yet another house elf brought a large, black leather bag to the Master of the house. My stomach dropped out when I saw this torturous utensil. This whip was an obviously strong string of braided black leather, but what hang at the tip frightened me more than anything I had seen in my life. It seemed like a very small shark’s mouth hung down from the tip snapping its razor teeth angrily at the air. Within seconds the whip was unfurled and the torture began. Screams that seemed high enough to break a glass affronted my ears at the first strike. I inspected the damage while Voldemort wound up for his next strike.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I'm sorry for the brief chapter.
Honestly I've never really figured out where I want to go with this story.
So now I need some time to get that squared.
Basically I'm just making this up as I go along.
That might be why some people are out of character.
The idea for this story just came to me one night and I'm not sure where I'm going to take it.
I do know the basics though and a few things are certain: there are still some things that need to be explained, Harry will not die, and life will eventually get better for our young hero!
Ideas and reviews are forever welcomed with love!
-Love Always-
Victoria
“My Lord, I’m sure you know Neville Longbottom.”
Neville bowed looking more graceful than I had ever seen him. This whole thing seemed surreal! Ron was a girl, Ginny was a slut, Mrs. And Mr. Weasley bowed down to the Malfoys, Hermione was broken and now Neville was snuggled against one of the men who tortured his parents into insanity. Rodolphus took his seat next to his wife and Neville took a slightly lower seat at his side. It seemed like Neville was not a slave at all. Voldemort was obviously poking around in my mind because he spoke up with a small smile.
“Rodolphus, please explain your situation to my dear slave. He seems to be confused.”
“I think I shall let Neville explain his plight.”
Neville looked up at Rolophus and mumbled a thank you looking up adoringly at him.
“Harry, I need this. I never realized that I liked to be controlled until I was enslaved. I am a slave by choice unlike you; I have fallen in love with Rodolphus. He gave me the choice to leave, I refused. In the house I am well taken care of, loved, and appreciated. I’ve been learning more than I ever did in school while in their house. I’m not afraid anymore, Harry.”
“How could you do this, Neville? How could you bow down to him? That man! That man tortured your parents!”
Neville let out a deep sigh closing his eyes for a moment before resting against Rodolphus’s shoulder.
“Enough. Tonight is a night of celebration. If you two would like to continue your depressing conversation some other time that would be welcome.”
Voldemort’s voice rang out across the entire hall and Neville immediately stopped speaking shrinking back into his seat. There was a cold hand on the back of my neck before I could argue and the hard grip silenced me without a command. Suddenly a scream bounced off every wall in the grand hall and we all turned our heads to look at the source of the shocking sound.
“Ginny?”
My eyebrow raised and the confusion was nearly tangible in the heavy heat, then the hot scent of sex crept through the air. Every set of eyes rested upon the small red head for only a moment and then realization dawned on everyone in the room. Even through the tension on the previous conversation Malfoy’s hand had not left Ginny’s engorged little clit. We continued to stare at her until a house elf appeared to announce the arrival of several more guests all arriving at once. Everyone settled and greeted the newest guests as they flew through the doors.
“Welcome to all of you.”
The rest of the next hour was a blur in my mind, I just hid under the table and cried as I watched the rest of the followers enter with my slave friends. Some of the former Hogwarts students and Dumbledore supporters were obviously sexual slaves, but others were dressed similarly to house elves with dirty sacks covering their shivering bodies.
“Welcome to my grand home,” Voldemort stood as he spoke addressing the mass of Death Eaters and servants.
The amount of followers had seemed to double since the final fall of the light. I later found that many of the most loyal Death Eaters had been hidden among high Ministry ranks and many other powerful positions in the wizarding world.
“Before we begin the feast, it seems there is some business that needs to be settled.”
At that moment a familiar face was dragged through the door by a Death Eater I did not recognize. Professor Minerva McGonagall was obviously unconscious and was thrown down in front of my Master, and a cry built up inside me. I surged forward but Voldemort tangled a hand in my hair before I could move holding me back. He whispered an order to stay and I was unable to resist for even an inch.
“This woman is no longer useful and has become only a burden. It is obvious that she is disillusioned into thinking the war is still at hand. She will not accept the fact that she has lost. Let her fate be a lesson to any slave who dares to defy their Masters or any Masters who dare defy me.”
Voldemort literally floated over the table to stand before Professor McGonagall. With a bit of wand work the woman who used to amaze me and whom I formerly admired awoke with a blood-curdling scream. A growl suddenly began to build in my chest as my Master kicked the poor woman onto her back.
“Do you have any last words, Minerva?”
“Dumbledore will defeat you in the end! Harry Potter will kill you again! Evil will never win!”
Her statement caused a rumble of cruel laughter to spread through the Masters and Mistresses of the crowd.
Voldemort magically lifted her into the air placing her bent over on a whipping bench that had been pushed out by two shaking house elves.
“DON’T!” I screamed begging for her life to be spared but I was silenced by a firm command.
My eyes fell to my sides on my friends, the present Weasleys were huddled into a circle on the floor obviously comforting each other, Hermione was shaking violently at her Mistress’s feet and Neville had his head resting on his Master’s shoulder looking away from what was happening. I studied Neville and Rodulphus while Voldemort strapped a struggling Professor McGonagall down to the bench. Interestingly enough the husband of the cruelest woman I had ever had the displeasure to know was stroking Neville’s hair tenderly occasionally placing kisses on the top of the boy’s head. I gagged at the obvious love and intimacy radiating from the pair. Rodolphus pulled Neville into his lap letting him keep his eyes turned away.
“Bring my whip.”
The words from Voldemort snapped my attention back to the bench where yet another house elf brought a large, black leather bag to the Master of the house. My stomach dropped out when I saw this torturous utensil. This whip was an obviously strong string of braided black leather, but what hang at the tip frightened me more than anything I had seen in my life. It seemed like a very small shark’s mouth hung down from the tip snapping its razor teeth angrily at the air. Within seconds the whip was unfurled and the torture began. Screams that seemed high enough to break a glass affronted my ears at the first strike. I inspected the damage while Voldemort wound up for his next strike.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I'm sorry for the brief chapter.
Honestly I've never really figured out where I want to go with this story.
So now I need some time to get that squared.
Basically I'm just making this up as I go along.
That might be why some people are out of character.
The idea for this story just came to me one night and I'm not sure where I'm going to take it.
I do know the basics though and a few things are certain: there are still some things that need to be explained, Harry will not die, and life will eventually get better for our young hero!
Ideas and reviews are forever welcomed with love!
-Love Always-
Victoria