Dark Rage
~A New Era~
***
"HARRY!" The cry from Hermione echoed throughout the now silent neighborhood. She was sprinting towards him, replaying everything that had just happened. She reached him, and had to look away. There's so much blood! She was wailing now.
She frantically grabbed on to him and pulled him to her. The tears were flowing freely from her eyes. She could hear his faint breathing, coming in and out in erratic gasps. She hugged him fiercely, trying to pour her strength, her life, into him.
She checked the remnant of his arm, and became nauseous. She was relieved; however, as the severed blood vessels had retracted and begun to coagulate. Still, she had to get him medical attention fast.
Just as she was about to gather him into her arms to carry him, his eyes shot open. He was sweating profusely.
"Harry! We need to get you to a hospital!" Hermione was desperately clinging to him.
Harry gasped as the pain of a severed limb hit him full force. "No Hermione, no hospitals," Harry panted as he spoke slurred words, finding it hard to take in enough oxygen.
"You're missing an arm!" she exclaimed unbelievingly, not quite sure he was right in the head. Then she noticed the gash on his temple. "Harry, you're delirious. I think you've suffered a concussion as well. Come on, we need to get you help!"
He mumbled incoherently as a response, and Hermione took that as meaning `Yes'. She hoisted him up, and wrapped her arm around him to keep him stabilized. He could barely stand, but she had to get him moving. His reluctance to move made him all the more difficult to walk with. Forcefully, Hermione was able to convince Harry to walk, but he couldn't travel in a straight line. The dizziness resulting from the trauma was disrupting his equilibrium.
Stumbling numerous times, and on a few occasions falling flat on the ground, Hermione had finally transported Harry to the front door of her house. Securing Harry's weight with her right arm, she turned the knob on the door with her left hand. The door swung open soundlessly. Disoriented, Harry tripped over the entrance step, causing them both to plummet to the ground in a tangled heap.
The resulting noise alerted the inhibitors of the home, who soon appeared in front of the doorway. Noticing who they were, Mr. and Mrs. Granger helped to untangle the teens and lift them from the ground. The process was disrupted however as Mrs. Granger let out a shriek of horror. She had tried to help Harry up, only to find he was an appendage short and unconscious. Mr. Granger looked upon him as well, and his mouth opened in shock.
Hermione was quick to explain. "We were attacked. We had been on our way home from the park, when we were assaulted. I need to speak to Professor Dumbledore immediately." She looked around the room, trying to find a means of communication, but there was none. She turned towards her parents.
"Didn't they leave some way for us to communicate with them in case of emergency?" Hermione questioned. This whole night had been very disturbing.
"There was supposed to be a guard on watch, and we were supposed to call on them if help was needed," her father explained. He was having a tough time following the situation. He turned towards Harry. "He's in very bad shape, he's lost a decent amount of blood, and the resulting damage is putting him in shock."
"He also has a concussion," Hermione added to the diagnosis. "The wound on his temple is deep. So far the symptoms have been disorientation and slurred, incoherent speech."
"He needs immediate medical help," Mrs. Granger said. "We can take him to the hospital. Hermione, I'm sure there's some way we can contact your headmaster."
"There isn't! I don't have an owl and Hedwig isn't here! And we're not connected to the floo either!" Hermione was beginning to hyperventilate. After all the events that had just taken place, there was no way to get wizarding help.
"Hermione, calm down, we don't need you unconscious right now. Just take deep, full breathes-that's it. Slow your breathing down."
Hermione began to calm down. The effects of her short hyperventilation had already caused her slight tingling and dizziness. She kneeled next to Harry, and grasped his hand, the only one he had.
"Jane, dear, could you please help me carry him to the car?" Mr. Granger inquired as he examined Harry's shirt. He noticed the tears and blood splatters, which led him to tear the shirt open. "My God, what did this?" Large gashes littered his torso from the claws of the werewolf. They were all extremely deep, cutting up large amounts of flesh. The blood vessels had been scored thus causing them to be bleeding pretty badly.
"We'll need to keep pressure on these," Mr. Granger stated as he made Harry's shirt into a makeshift bandage for a particularly nasty slash.
Mr. Granger then heaved and lifted Harry into his arms. Wow, the kid weighed a lot more than he realized. Mrs. Granger opened the door to the garage and then helped her husband place Harry gently in the back seat. Hermione climbed quickly in and sat next to Harry, grasping his hand once again.
"Please stay with me Harry," she whispered to him as her dad pulled out of the garage.
They made it out of the driveway and were driving for about fifteen seconds when her dad stopped suddenly, sending Hermione crashing into the seat in front of her. She looked up and out through the windshield to see what had caused the sudden stop. There was a man standing in the road with a long black cloak. Hermione got a really bad feeling.
"What the hell moron! Get out of the middle of the road!" Mr. Granger shouted furiously at the mysterious man.
The man looked up and glared at Mr. Granger. His face was dark; there were black stripes horizontally across his cheeks and vertical black stripes across his forehead and chin. Shadows covered his eyes, making them impossible to see. He brought his finger up and waved it side to side in a motion that said `bad-bad-bad'.
A sharp intake of breath brought Hermione's attention back to Harry. There was fear in his now open eyes.
The world around them went dark, and it was impossible for anyone to see. She dared not move, fearing that the man would attack her in this darkness. A pair of glowing yellow eyes hovered in front of her, and she let out a scream. All at once, the light came back, and the eyes were gone. And so was Harry.
***
The only noise that echoed in the saturnine structure was a scraping sound, like someone getting dragged across the ground. Two figures were slowly traveling down the hallway, a tall man in front, and Harry Potter on his back in the back. The tall man stopped at a large door. He placed his hand on the handle, it shone for a moment, and then the door swung open. The man then pulled Harry through and tossed him at the feet of someone sitting in a throne-like chair.
"Here, I have brought you a precious gift."
Lord Voldemort stood up from his throne and looked down upon Harry with interest.
"My, my, what happened to his arm," Voldemort asked as he nudged the stump of Harry's severed right arm with his foot. Harry let out a groan. "Well, at least your son was able to do something to him."
Voldemort then reached down and grasped the sides of Harry's head harshly. Forcing Harry to look at him, Voldemort snarled. "You are going to become my most ruthless slave. You will be totally obedient, or I will kill you without remorse."
Voldemort then sat back down in his chair and intertwined his fingers. "Go now, Shaman, convert him and use whatever methods necessary to break his will. I expect to have a monster soon."
The Shaman bowed, and then waved his staff, causing both Harry and himself to disappear.
***
Harry landed hard on the solid rock ground. His breathing came in short, light breaths.
"I wish I was allowed to kill you," said the Shaman. "You killed my son, and now I should be able to kill you." He turned and faced the other direction, away from Harry, and clasped his hands behind his back. "But alas, I cannot. But what I can do," he said as he turned around to face Harry lying pitifully on the ground, "is cause you as much pain as I like. And let me tell you now, I very, very much want to hurt you."
Harry just shut his eyes as the thought of what was to become of him washed over him. There were a few light footsteps, and then BAM! he had been struck in the head with the tip of the Shaman's boot, effectively breaking his nose. He whimpered as the blood poured freely from his now smashed nose.
"I want to know how he died. Surely you should not have been able to kill him. He was a very powerful Elemental, whilst you are but a worthless child." Harry groaned, and the Shaman became agitated. With a kick to the chest he shouted at Harry, "Tell me now!"
Harry suddenly felt himself laughing. It was a dark, cruel laugh that he had no control over. Suddenly a force began using his voice to speak. "Your son was weak! He fell under the power of this boy! You have no idea how powerful this child is! With him, the Dark will end the world!"
"Shut up!" the Shaman snarled. "You know nothing. This child is pathetic; my son must have been killed by his own mistake!" The Shaman, with the strike of a viper, smashed the staff into Harry. A dark glow emitted from it, which then caused a screaming fit to erupt from Harry.
"You will now learn of every aspect of pain! I am tired of this! You will be converted now!"
The dark glow began to cover Harry, and the more it covered, the more the light in Harry was driven away.
***
Hermione was completely in tears. Her parents were holding her tightly, whispering soothing words into her ears. But she paid those words no attention, the only thing occupying her mind at the moment was the fact that Harry was gone.
Her parents led her back to the car, and then drove her home. Her parents had to help her to her room, as Hermione had gone into a catatonic state.
She never slept for the rest of the night, but only stayed in her room, wishing for Harry to be all right.
***
Screams could be heard throughout the entire stronghold of Lord Voldemort. Some of the Death Eaters were uneasy. Who was making that noise? they asked. They didn't remember having any prisoners at the moment, as the Shaman's sons had killed them all. They didn't know about the capture of Harry Potter either.
When a young, inexperienced Death Eater tried to bring this up with Voldemort, he was killed in a flash of green light. "Don't question," Voldemort said as his eyes twinkled with mass joy.
It was in this moment that Voldemort had a premonition of the future.
He was standing on a high platform, with Harry Potter at his side. The entire world was bowing down to him. As he raised his hands in salute, they all cheered for him.
Harry neither smiled nor waved. He had a look of fierce intimidation. He was gazing throughout the hordes of people below him, seemingly trying to sniff out any traitors.
"They're all clear, Master," he said. Voldemort smiled.
A swift step of the foot interrupted his premonition. Agitated by this unwanted disturbance, Voldemort cast the Cruciatus at the source of the disruption. Staggering to his knees, Lucius Malfoy quickly apologized. "What do you want?" Voldemort barked.
"My Lord, your followers have been wondering what has been making the horrendous screams. We know not of any prisoners held captive or of any muggles brought in for sport-"
"It is the beginning of the new era, Lucius. The screams and roars of which you speak are the sounds of the newest and most formidable member of my army being converted. Once the conversion has been completed, you will see why he is so valuable. I'd be careful though if I were you, Lucius. I do not know how volatile his powers are. He might just kill you in his irritation."
Lucius gulped and backed out of the room afraid. "Yes my Lord."
***
"Are you hearing the voices yet Potter?" the Shaman sneered. What had once been Harry was now no more than a ghostly figure. His skin was pale and torn from the endless hours of conversion sessions.
Does it hurt Potter? Are you feeling enough pain? The voices he indeed was hearing were making a mockery of him.
"I said, Potter, are you hearing the voices yet?" the Shaman's irritation was evident. No matter how joyous this was to him, the slightest disobedience from Harry made him twitch with anger.
Harry stayed defiant, not answering the Shaman's question. He would not crack because of the Shaman. The Dark reassured him that it would free him, and it was in the Dark that Harry placed his trust. He had nothing to lose because of the Dark now. As long as he got to see his friends again, he would give up part of himself to be used by the ethereal force.
"ANSWER ME POTTER!" The Shaman shouted in his face. He struck Harry across the head with his staff. Harry would have been knocked unconscious had it not been for the Dark, who was continuously trying to keep him alive.
Do not give in to him. I possessed him once, but he was weak. He thinks that he overpowered me and exorcised me, but in fact I left him to die and rot in the wild. Amazing how he was able to keep himself alive. He could hardly handle the simple magic I was using through his body.
"Well if you're not going to answer me," sighed the Shaman, "then I guess it's time for a little more psychological torment."
Harry gulped. The psychological torment was the worst, as he had figured out at the beginning of summer. Physical pain was happy frolicking compared to the psychological agony the Shaman could inflict.
He could not brace himself before he suddenly was flying through the air. He landed hard on the solid earth. His eyes became clouded and he saw no more of the physical plane.
***
"Potter!"
The Shaman was standing there; not two feet in front of him.
"If it weren't for the Dark Lord I would kill you."
The Dark was trying to rise up inside.
"He said you had terrifying memories."
The Dark whispered to him.
Don't give in. I'll handle him.
"I want to see first-hand."
Harry shivered. This was the worst thing they could do to him. Voldemort did it all the time. Slowly breaking Harry's mind.
Harry could feel it as the Shaman broke into his head. Instantly, a connection was established and Harry could hear the Shaman's thoughts.
`My, my, what disturbing things there are in here.'
I'm going to trap his mind. When I do, I will infuse my power with his lifeless body. I will become the Shaman, and Voldemort will not know that he is actually dead.
`What a pretty little thing this girl is. Quite ripe for the taking, I would say. Ahh, she is a Mudblood. I could still have a bit of fun with her though-`
Anger began to pulse throughout him. Do it now, Harry said to the Dark.
"Goodbye, Shaman."
And with that, the Shaman's mind was severed from his body, killing him. The Dark then intertwined itself with the Shaman's lifeless body, breathing life back into it. However, it was in the Dark's control now.
***
Rarely was Albus Dumbledore ever angry. This, however, was just one of those times. Where was the guard? He had asked himself this question a million times, and had yet to find an answer. With a loud BANG! the doors to the Great Hall opened before him. Inside, scattered around the tables, was the Order of the Phoenix.
"Now, who," Dumbledore's voice boomed throughout the cavernous hall, "was on duty last night?"
There was silence. Everyone looked to afraid to speak up. Finally, Remus Lupin voiced what he feared was going to make Dumbledore even angrier than he was now.
"There was no one on guard last night, sir." Remus closed his eyes and braced himself for the impact.
"No one on guard," Dumbledore repeated quietly. "And WHY is that?"
"Apparently, Hestia Jones didn't show up last night. We haven't heard from her since we gave out patrolling schedules about a week ago."
This deeply troubled Dumbledore. Harry had been taken captive and an Order member was also missing. He briefly wondered if the two events were related.
Quickly Dumbledore turned his back on everyone in the room and strode out of the hall.
"Where are you going?" Snape's voice echoed off the walls.
"To find Harry."
***
Albus Dumbledore was not a man to be trifled with. When provoked, he was a very dangerous Wizard. And right now, he had been provoked to the breaking point.
With his old Dragon hide combat armor strapped on, he motioned to his phoenix. Fawkes flew from his perch and came to rest on Dumbledore's outstretched arm. "Fawkes, I believe battle draws near for us."
The phoenix let out a trill that calmed and at the same time, empowered Dumbledore. Phoenix magic combined with his own to create the Magus known to be the most powerful wizard alive. Voldemort feared him with reason.
And in a flash of flame, Dumbledore and his loyal phoenix were gone.
***
A/N: Actually, I've decided to keep on writing this story. I prefer the way I laid out the plotline in this version of Dark Rage. Anyways, I will be posting on both stories, so everyone now gets a double dose of the Dark! Hooray!
Later,
The Dark Sorceror
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