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Harry Potter and the Immortal's Curse by The Dark Sorceror
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Harry Potter and the Immortal's Curse

The Dark Sorceror

Dreams About Voldemort

*****

When Harry awoke he had no memory of what had occurred. His body was strongly aching, and there were black spots in front of his eyes. There was something sticky covering his face, but he could not summon enough energy to investigate it. After trying relentlessly to move, he closed his eyes, and fell back asleep.

*****

Harry awoke to a cold, refreshing rag on his forehead. He groped around for his glasses, before someone handed them to him. His blurred vision came into focus, and he could see his Aunt Petunia giving an almost maternal-like smile. He weakly smiled back, surprised to find his Aunt actually caring for him.

"You've been out for a while." She said gently.

"How long?" He asked.

"About two days," she replied, "you had a very high fever."

"Thanks," he croaked, "for taking care of me."

"It's no problem Harry, I feel I need to repay you for all those years of torture I put you through…" She trailed off.

For some reason, Harry felt that his Aunt was really his mother's sister. He now knew that she did actually care for him, but why did she hate him for so many years?

He pushed that question out of his mind as he tried to stand up. Pain immediately jolted through him, and he would have fallen, had his aunt not had a strong grip on him. She helped him over to his bed, and he collapsed onto it, already tired from the exertion it took for him to walk.

"I'll be downstairs, if you need me come get me, but don't let Vernon find out." She stressed the last part, and then turned out the door.

Harry tried to fall asleep, but as soon as he closed his eyes, visions came that tormented him. He saw Neville being placed under the Cruciatus Curse, Ron being attacked by a tentacled brain, Ginny with her broken ankle, Hermione…getting hit by the purple curse, and finally, Sirius, dueling with his cousin. He saw in his mind's eye, the duel: the duel that had ended Sirius' life. He watched as Sirius taunted his cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange, and dodged her curses. Sirius did not see the curse that she uttered right after one that he dodged, and it hit him straight in the edge. Sirius then fell, with the laughter and joy still not gone from his face, and went behind the veil.

Harry tried as hard as he could not to cry, but tears made their way down his cheek. Sirius, why did I have to believe the image, he thought, why couldn't I realize it was fake, I should have known it was fake. Deep down, Harry knew it was his fault, and the guilt was not letting him go. It was dragging him down; down into the pain of knowing that he'd been the main cause of Sirius' death. It was his fault that he was there, his fault that Sirius had to battle Bellatrix, his fault that Sirius had fallen behind that accursed veil.

What would his friends think of him? He was a murderer, after all. He had killed Sirius. Who would want a murderer as a friend? Nobody, that's who. Never again would they great him with kindness. They would treat him like the foul being that he was. A murderer: a piece of trash.

Closing his eyes to try to make their accusing faces disappear, he found them to return only with more force. He could hear their shouts of "Harry! Why? Don't you care about us? Why did you lead us into danger? YOU SHOULD HAVE KNOWN IT WAS A TRAP!"

Knowing he wouldn't be getting to sleep anytime soon, he sat up, albeit with extreme difficulty, and looked around for something to do. His trunk was open on the floor, filled with still unpacked clothes and books and magical objects. Spotting a book that looked to be of interest, he got out of bed, made his way to the trunk, and picked it up. It was entitled Spells and Curses Useful Against the Dark Arts. Strange, thought Harry, I don't remember ever buying this book.

He lie back down in his bed, and flipped through the book to the first page. The book began to turn pages at its own accord. It stopped when it reached the first page again. The pages were made of what looked to be extremely old parchment. Harry closed the book, and looked at the cover, and nearly dropped the book in surprise. Mastering the Dark Arts was glaring up at him in large, blood red letters.

The book seemed to control Harry's eyes. When it turned back to the first page, Harry's eyes began moving, soaking in all the knowledge the book contained. He could not move away from it, he had to know what the book said! The book was controlling him, enveloping him in its power.

But then it stopped, and the book returned to its normal state. Harry was feeling extremely tired, like after one of Snape's Occlumency lessons. This time, he was able to sleep.

*****

Harry was standing in the middle of an amphitheater shaped room, on a raised platform. Right before his eyes was his godfather, Sirius Black, dueling his cousin. Harry watched again as Sirius was hit by the jet of light that sent him falling through the archway, through the veil, and to his death.

Maybe, Harry thought, maybe I can go behind the veil and reach him. He ran towards the veil, and stretched out his hand. Only a little bit closer… Just as his hand was about to touch the veil, someone caught it. Harry whirled around to see Bellatrix Lestrange face-to-face. Immediately, Harry felt a huge swell of anger. It consumed him, from head to toe, filling him with so much hatred. He felt so…powerful.

Bellatrix cackled: a loud, annoying, and taunting laugh that put Harry's nerves on end. How he hated that sound.

"Ooo ickle baby Potter. Aren't you going to go save your pathetic godfather?" She taunted him in her annoying baby-like tone.

Harry remembered what she had told them at the Department of Mysteries, about the Unforgivables. "You need to mean them!" Her voice rang in his ears. He felt anger at her, hate at her. He wanted to cause her pain, wanted to relish in the fact that she was suffering. His eyes glinted like a madman. He flung out his wand and said the word that would cause him so much joy. "Crucio!"

Bellatrix dropped onto the ground, writhing and jerking and screaming with pain. But then, she changed. Bellatrix's face vanished, and in its place…was Hermione's. She was screaming in pain, and immediately he dropped his wand, not believing what had happened, what he had just done. He dropped to his knees, and held his head in his hands. He glanced at the Hermione on the floor, and noticed she wasn't moving, she wasn't even breathing. He then went over to her and cradled her head in his hands.

"What have I done? WHAT HAVE I DONE! Hermione, please forgive me!" He spoke desperately. "Please forgive me, it was an accident, please forgive me."

Then he heard a high-pitched, cruel laugh. He knew that laugh, that laugh was the laugh of the most evil wizard alive. "Voldemort!"

Voldemort appeared in front of him, a huge smile plastered on his face. "You can't win Harry, every time you try to, you end up hurting one of your friends. They will resent you Harry, they will hate you for the things you have done to them."

"No," said Harry, "They won't hate me." Or will they, he thought.

"You should join me Harry, we could be great. I can make you powerful, so very powerful, and all I ask for in return is your loyalty. There is something about you that is so…great in a way. You have survived encounters with me five times, when no one else has. You will be my right hand man, my most powerful of servants, a lord, and so very rich. Join me, and I will give you whatever you want." Voldemort then reached out with one of his long, spidery fingers and touched Harry's scar.

*****

The pain that came with that one touch was enough to wake Harry up, enough to make him scream. But Harry did not scream. Too great was the pain for him to scream. Instead, his mouth was filled with blood, which was what he was spewing at the moment onto the floor.

After finishing regurgitating his blood, Harry slipped into unconsciousness, and fell onto His blood soaked floor.

*****

A/N: Please R & R, I need to know how I'm doing!

Thanks,

The Dark Sorcerer

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