deep inside I'm heartless
The Darkness Within
Chapter 6: Point of No Return
After all this time spent trying to avoid Ron and Hermione, while conducting his private training in the Room of Requirement, sneaking out of the tower in the middle of the night posed no difficulties for Harry. Every single boy in the sixth year boys' dormitory was soundly asleep; at least the occasional snores in the otherwise quiet room seemed to imply that. Thus, it really was far too easy for the dark-haired teenager to creep down to the abandoned common room and then through the portrait hole. Even the Fat Lady guarding the entrance to Gryffindor tower was napping. Though by that time Harry had gotten used to the mysterious splendour of the ancient castle, the special circumstances of this night's quest made his heart pound faster with adrenaline and the beams of moonlight slanting through an occasional window gave Hogwarts a somewhat ominous atmosphere.
Harry reached the large Trophy Room without interruptions. Passing through the stone archway, he entered the room and walked swiftly to the farthest corner settling down to wait under his Cloak. Harry checked his watch; he was early, it was a quarter to one.
Not even a minute after he had pulled down the sleeve of his robes, covering the wristwatch, Harry heard soft footsteps approaching his hiding place. He waited a little longer and then Malfoy entered his line of vision. The blond boy was alone, no henchmen following him around this time. Holding his wand securely in his hand Malfoy made his way deeper into the room. The Slytherins eyes were darting about nervously. He gave a little startled jump as Harry took off his Invisibility Cloak and said, "Malfoy."
The other boy turned toward Harry and nodded his greeting. "Potter."
Both boys were eyeing each other cautiously, Malfoy's wand still in his hand and Harry, minus the wand, looked no less dangerous. The air in the room was thick with tension. The blond boy regained his composure quickly though, and the usual superior sneer appeared on his face as he pocketed his wand. Harry relaxed slightly, the imminent danger of being on the receiving end of some nasty hexes or curses over.
"Well," came Malfoy's impatient voice, "what do you want? After all you asked me to come here."
"And you came," Harry countered quickly.
The Slytherins eyes narrowed. "It's not like I had any choice in the matter, is it? So, spit it out, Potter, what do you want?"
"I wanted to talk to you, Malfoy." Harry's eyebrow rose. "Obviously. Or did you not notice?"
"Stop playing games, Potter!" Malfoy was seething by now, his anger and frustration evident in his tone of voice.
Harry's lips curled in a mocking imitation of professor Snape. "Now, now, Mr Malfoy, don't lose your temper. You are acting positively … un-Slytherin …" he hissed softly. It was obvious he was enjoying himself.
That was it. Malfoy's already high-strung nerves yielded to the temptation. After all, it really was a rare opportunity, to have Potter all alone, without witnesses. The boy, whose usually cold grey eyes were burning with rage, threw caution to the wind and pulled his wand. However, there was one thing he could not have anticipated - Harry's recent training. Whatever spell was about to leave his lips never got the chance to be spoken out loud as Harry's wand moved incredibly swiftly and Impedimenta resounded in the dark room.
The taunting smile had left Harry's face when Malfoy decided to attack him and now it was perfectly serious. He stepped closer to the immobilised boy whose eyed were following his approach.
"Malfoy. Are you quite finished? Can we talk reasonably or shall I leave you in this condition while I speak at you?" he asked.
Harry reached the Slytherin and peered into his eyes. They blinked once under his scrutiny. Taking that as a sign of submission Harry released the spell holding Malfoy suspended in front of him. The fair-haired boy crumbled to the floor instantaneously, but instead of getting up, he looked up at Harry noting the other's solemn demeanour.
Without saying a word, Malfoy pulled himself up to a sitting position on the cold stone floor. Harry watched him for a moment and sat down opposite him. The room was cold and dark, so Harry took out his wand once again.
"Lumos."
A small spark of light appeared on the tip of his wand. It illuminated the two boys sitting face to face in an uneasy truce, but the rest of the Trophy Room was even more cloaked in shadows as the flame made a circle of light in darkness.
Draco was silent, waiting for the other to begin.
Harry took a deep breath and plunged in. "Do you remember that Potions lesson? The one where you got burned." He stumbled a little but continued, "When I ripped off the sleeve from your robes. You know what I saw, don't you?"
"Is there any other reason why I would be here?" Malfoy spat. Then his voice turned thoughtful and a calculating gleam appeared in his eyes.
"Potter … If you saw that … why haven't I been expelled? Tell me, Potter, why haven't you told this to your precious Headmaster?"
Then Harry did smile. The game is on.
"Malfoy," he began, "why did you join the Dark Lord?"
If the blond was surprised by this question he didn't show it. "I joined because He will win and I am going to be on the winning side."
In the comfortable darkness of the sleeping castle, the entire conversation seemed almost unreal, like a really vivid dream. Perhaps that was the reason for Malfoy's uncharacteristic openness.
"Why do you want to know?" inquired Malfoy. He really was curious.
Here we go.
"Maybe I want to be on the winning side as well."
Malfoy gave a cold, harsh laugh. "You're kidding." He continued laughing, the volume increasing to nearly hysterical.
Harry just sat in his place and looked at him quietly.
Suddenly the Death Eater seemed to notice that Harry wasn't laughing with him. The laughter died as abruptly as it had started.
"You are not kidding," he was incredulous. "You, Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, want to join the Dark Lord? You are serious, aren't you?"
At Harry's affirmative nod, his mouth fell open. "Merlin."
After a moment passed, Harry told him, "I want you to take me to Lord Voldemort …"
"Do not say that name," Malfoy interrupted, hissing.
"I want you to take me to the Dark Lord … soon. I know you can Apparate me with you because of the Dark Mark. Will you do it?"
The blond considered the question and then in a true Slytherin manner asked, "What do I get out of it?"
"You get to tell the Dark Lord that Harry Potter has abandoned Dumbledore and is joining him. Do you understand how appreciative your lord will be?"
Malfoy smirked in reply. "I see your point."
"Good," Harry said and as an afterthought added almost carelessly, "Oh, and if I were you, I wouldn't tell anyone about my conversion … you might be sidestepped. And Dumbledore might catch wind of it."
"All right. I will contact you when the time comes." Malfoy ended the conversation by standing up and walking out of the room. Leaving Harry alone in the darkness.
Harry sighed and climbed back to the Gryffindor tower. It is done.
A week passed. It grew colder and the castle grounds were covered with a carpet of snow. The Christmas Holidays were nearing. Professor McGonagall posted the list of students who would be staying in the castle during the holidays. Harry was still successful in avoiding Ron and Hermione; neither of the two had decided to stay in Hogwarts, and this year they had not asked Harry to spend Christmas with them, thankfully.
When he went to write down his name in the list of students, he discovered with a small amount of surprise that he was the only Gryffindor staying. A bigger surprise was one other name on the list. Right in the beginning stood in a scrawling, elegant script - Draco Malfoy. The boy had never before spent the Holidays in Hogwarts. Harry's anxiousness grew. Soon.
The evening after the student population left for home, Harry was sitting in the common room, reading, when he heard the Fat Lady shrieking. Someone was trying to get into the tower. He moved towards the portrait hole and opened it. A second later the red and gold Lions Den had another occupant - a pureblood Slytherin.
Draco looked around and smirked. "How very … Gryffindor."
Harry maintained his calm, but inside his heart was beating rapidly and he felt sweat begin to form in the palm of his hands.
"Well. What is it?" he asked.
"Tonight. Meet me in the Entrance Hall at ten o'clock. He is waiting." With that, Malfoy swept out of the portrait hole in a cloud of robes worthy of his Head of House.
A couple of hours had never before passed so agonisingly slowly. Finally, his watch showed ten minutes to ten. Harry stood up, climbed through the portrait hole and down the stairs to the Entrance Hall. There, by the castle doors, stood Draco Malfoy. The boy was dressed in black robes very similar to classic Death Eater attire. All that was missing was a white mask; Harry guessed that was in his pockets.
Malfoy threw a bundle of clothes at him and stepped out the doors, saying, "Put those on. Quickly. The Lord must not be kept waiting."
Harry joined Draco outside and closed the castle door behind him. There he donned the black robe and mimicking Malfoy pulled the large hood over his head, effectively obscuring his face in shadows.
"Come on. We Apparate from the Forest," Malfoy told him impatiently.
The two black shapes moved side by side across the white, snow-covered grounds of Hogwarts towards the Forbidden Forest. When the boys reached the old trees Draco came to a stop. Looking at him Harry stood as close by as he dared and when Draco vanished with a quiet pop, Harry was swept along in the disturbance wave of his Apparition.
They reappeared in front of a large gothic manor. Without hesitation, Malfoy pulled him along and the teenagers entered the house. The hall was subtly lit with candles, Harry noticed as he followed his guide through the labyrinth of corridors. The stopped in front of a richly decorated door of dark wood. Malfoy knocked.
A familiar, deep voice answered, "Enter."
The blond boy pushed the door open and stepped inside, Harry following closely on his heels.
It was a small room, scarcely furnished and its most prominent feature was a large black throne in the middle of the back wall. The throne was occupied by a black shadow with red eyes in a bone-white face.
No turning back now.
Simultaneously the teenagers dropped to their knees, almost instinctively uttering, "Greetings, my Lord."
Silence followed the words. The figures on the floor kept their kneeling posture, unmoving. The large windows of the room were covered with thick dark green curtains, as though to make sure nothing natural or pure from the outside world could interfere with the malignant air of the chamber. The sinister aura of the room was thickest near the throne of its primary inhabitant.
Suddenly the silence was pierced by a bone-chilling cackle emanating from the red-eyed monster.
"Yes, yes. Your Lord. How fascinating to hear you say that, Potter," Voldemort said quietly. "Young Draco here had informed me of your most fortunate decision. I must admit, however, I am curious as to your reasoning. And the validity of your betrayal of Dumbledore and his little Order."
The dark wizard motioned impatiently with his hand.
"Get out, Draco! I must have a chat with Mr Potter here."
Malfoys head snapped up, a look of incredulity on his face.
"But … My Lord," he managed to stutter out before Voldemorts eyes narrowed and the dark lord turned his attention completely to the Death Eater.
"But, what? Do not presume to question your lord," he yelled. "You should have learned your lessons by now!"
Malfoy paled to the point where his complexion could compete with the unnatural ivory white of Voldemort. He started trembling in anticipation of punishment to come.
A soft Crucio left the mouth of the wizard. He kept the spell for about a minute, until the screams and later whimpers coming from Malfoy's lips had turned into hoarse whispers, pleading his lord to stop.
Voldemort moved his wand abruptly, cutting the spell. "Enough! Leave us."
The wizard on the floor blinked away the drying tears and gathering his wits and strength moved towards the door. As he exited he spared one glance over the shoulder; bright green eyes stared back at him from the spot Harry hadn't moved from during the show. Closing the door behind him, the blond left Harry alone with the Dark Lord.
Upon hearing the thud of the shutting door lord Voldemort stood up from his black throne and walked slowly to Harry.
"Get up," he ordered.
Without hesitation or apparent fear the young man stood, his eyes lowered. He wanted to avoid looking at the terrifying vision of evil right in front of him. The dark wizard's face showed no emotions, but his voice, if possible, seemed tinged with amusement as he gestured for Harry to walk in front of him to a small niche near the curtain-covered windows, saying, "Well, boy. Explain yourself."
Still avoiding the red eyes Harry replied with, "Explain what? As I told Malfoy, I wanted to join the winning side. Also I was sick of Dumbledore's manipulations." He continued a little bit more forcefully, "I do not want to be Dumbledore's puppet anymore."
"Indeed. That is most fortunate for me. However in all our encounters I have not detected any inclinations towards the dark side of magic in you."
In a swift, almost undetectable move, he grabbed Harry's wand from the pocket of the boy's robes. Voldemort held it between two fingers, almost toying while looking at the startled boy.
"You must see why I find this conversion to dark slightly unbelievable. Tell me,boy, why should I not have you killed this instant and save myself from all the trouble you may bring me later?"
Taking a deep breath Harry leaned against the dark wood panelling.
"I can give you a reason," he started in a slightly quavering voice.
"Really?" If Voldemort had had eyebrows, one of them would have risen in question at that point.
Harry knew that it really was life or death, his life of death depending on the believability of the explanation he had thought up. To keep his hands from trembling he fingered the velvety green of the curtain beside him while letting the story come out.
"My Lord. I am certain you remember the prophecy that was destroyed in the Department of Mysteries last spring. The prophecy concerning you and me."
The dark wizard face betrayed no interest in the story, but his breathing was a little faster.
Oblivious to his captive audience Harry continued the performance. "What you don't know. What I didn't know at the time was that Dumbledore already knew the prophecy. He had heard it and kept secret from me. It was only by accident that I learned its contents and I'm sure Dumbledore would prefer if I did not know it."
Voldemort gripped his arm painfully, his skeleton-like fingers digging deep into the flesh. His face came so close to Harry's that the boy could smell death. He hissed:
"And what exactly did the prophecy say?"
Harry's lips curved. "The prophecy is the reason I'm here. I am here because I want to live."
"It is? Do tell me, Potter."
Unseeing eyes looking straight ahead Harry recited.
The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…
Born to those, who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…
And the Dark Lord will mark him as his heir…
For together they are invincible and apart, they die…
And if either is killed at the hand of another…
Neither can live while the other does not…
The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…
The one whose death shall end the Evil…
Will be born as the seventh month dies...
His voice crumbled and his hand let go of the curtain leaving behind a sweaty impression.
"You see now, don't you? Why Dumbledore never wanted to tell me. Why I am here."
Voldemort took hold of Harry's face, making the boy wince at the uncomfortable touch.
"Is this true?" he asked, peering into the green depths of the boy's eyes. Harry forced himself to believe and it seemed that Voldemort was egoistic enough to find the explanation plausible.
He let Harry go and in an abrupt movement turned around and stalked towards his throne throwing himself into its black comfort. Harry didn't move from his spot near the windows.
Minutes passed as lord Voldemort appeared deep in thought. Then he looked at Harry and said, "My heir … interesting how that happened. Come, boy, bow to your Lord."
Hesitantly Harry left the relative safety of his little niche and walked closer to the throne, there he dropped to his knees repeating his former greeting with all the emotion he could force into his voice, "My Lord … I am your servant."
The lipless mouth seemed to smile. "Yes. You are."
Lord Voldemort took out his own wand, adding it to Harry's and toying with both wands said, "Hmm. I wonder if you know how my servants are marked."
The green eyes widened and the boy backed away slightly.
"My Lord, I don't think it would be wise …"
"Silence!" The enraged shout from the Dark Lord hurt his ears. "Do not presume to tell me anything. I am your chosen lord; you follow my orders. And I know what is best. You have seen how I punish disobedience and no matter what the prophecy says I will not hesitate to exact that punishment on you."
In a quiet voice Harry dared to answer, "It is because of the prophecy I interrupted … do you not remember? Neither can live while the other does not. Were Dumbledore to discover this meeting, were he to see a Dark Mark on me all would be lost. All he would have to do in order to destroy you is killing me."
Voldemorts mouth was in a distasteful smile.
"You have made your point," he spat. "In addition to that I think it would be best to keep your identity secret from my Death Eaters. There is no reason to make it easy for your Headmaster to discover this conversion."
Harry allowed himself a small smile. "Thank you, my lord."
Voldemort threw Harry's wand back to him.
"Yes, yes. Go now, fetch young Malfoy and return to that school of yours. I expect you back in two days for a presentation to my Inner Circle. Go!"
Harry bowed once more and facing the dark wizard backed to the door. After allowing the door to close behind him he looked around to discover Draco Malfoy hovering nearby. He grabbed the blond's shoulder saying, "Come on. We are ordered to go back to Hogwarts."
Malfoy started to ask something, but was silenced by the increasing pressure of Harry's grip. He bit his lip and led Harry through the small maze of corridors, retracing the way they had come. Once outside, the boys Apparated back to the Forbidden Forest.
Harry decided to have a walk and think about things in the dark snowy grounds. So, he asked Malfoy to leave him alone. Before the other boy had time to protest he added:
"The Dark Lord has ordered not to discuss this with anyone. Do you understand? Anyone. Oh, and meet me here in two days. I must see our lord again then."
Malfoy left for the Slytherin dungeons and soon after so did Harry, upon realising that he was alone in Gryffindor Tower and there was no reason why he should feel uncomfortable contemplating his conversation with Voldemort there.
That night Harry did not sleep well. From one point of view, the hardest part was over. From another, the real difficulties hadn't even begun. He hadn't done anything irreversible yet. But he was sure that before all this was over he would have to do things, terrible things, that his friends could never forgive him for. Let alone understand. In two days, he would have his second audience with Voldemort; he shuddered at the thought. Red eyes and Malfoy's screams haunted his dreams.
The next morning he didn't go down to the Great Hall for Christmas breakfast to avoid questions about the dark circles under his eyes. Instead, he had Dobby bring up some food for him while sorting through the small pile of presents at the foot of his bed. Ripping off the colourful paper of the largest package, he discovered a warm green Weasley sweater and a large box of homemade fudge. Putting a sweet into his mouth, he moved to the next package - a book about advanced defence techniques. The choice of present had Hermione written all over it. The smallest package turned out to be a gold and red friendship bracelet from Ginny. Ron, for once, had taken a leaf out of Hermione's book, sending him a step-by-step guide to the more difficult Quidditch moves, and the twins present exploded upon opening revealing an assortment of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes.
Harry had a nice day in the common room, reading his new books while working his way through the giant supply of fudge.
The following day, however, passed in a tiptoeing pace as he waited for the appointed time to arrive. At half passed nine Harry left the Gryffindor Tower carrying the Death Eater garb Malfoy had given him. He walked straight to the Apparating spot in the Forest, put on the dark robes, pulled the hood over his face and waited for Malfoy to arrive.
At precisely ten o'clock, the Slytherin arrived. Without a word heApparated them to Voldemort's mansion. Upon arriving, he turned to Harry.
"I do not appreciate being your errand boy," Malfoy hissed.
Harry smiled smugly. "That is not something you should discuss with me."
Draco paled, the superior smirk leaving his face. He told Harry to follow and led him through the familiar passageways towards the familiar door leading to the Dark Lords audience chamber. He knocked and entered.
Harry, who until that point had been right at his heels, hesitated for a second. Unconsciously his hands moved to his face to make sure the white mask was firmly in place and the black hood covering his unruly hair had not slipped off. Then he stepped through the beautifully decorated door, straight to a vision of hell.
The room was as he remembered, with little furniture but the black throne. The heavy curtains were still drawn and the lighting was still sparse. What he hadn't seen before was the circle of black-clad, white-masked figures occupying the room. If Voldemort fashioned himself a dark god, ruler of fates, he certainly had made sure his followers were made in his image. All that was missing were the burning red eyes.
Harry stepped closer to the throne, doing his best to ignore the mass of black. He kneeled in a fluid motion.
"Your servant, my lord."
In a ceremonial voice, Voldemort replied, "Stand, my boy, and face my Inner Circle."
Harry did as ordered and turned to look at the gathered Death Eaters. He thought the nearest to the door might be Draco Malfoy, but he had no clues to the identity of the others. The robes and masks hid them effectively enough that even though he knew one of the figures must be the elder Malfoy, one his grim Potions Professor and perhaps somewhere hidden among the others, the cowardly traitor Wormtail, he could not distinguish one from the other. That gave him courage to believe his identity was an equal, if not greater mystery, to the gathering.
Voldemort continued with his speech.
"The most loyal of my followers. I have called you here to welcome into this circle another Death Eater. My heir."
The Death Eaters were disciplined enough to not voice any protests or questions, but the shifting of feet and the quiet mumblings were still, barely audible.
"Silence! This is not your place to question. I have made my decision and I have my own reasons. You will treat this young man as my heir. You will protect him; look after him. I want nothing happening to him."
A reluctant acceptance greeted the declaration. The masked figures were eyeing the boy in front of them curiously. At least their postures seemed intrigued, as the faces remained hidden.
"Now. It is time for the initiation. Bring in the entertainment!" Voldemort's deep otherworldly voice echoed in the room.
Harry felt queasiness settle in his stomach as he stood, maintaining his rigid posture at the foot of the dark throne. Oh God. He looked on as two Death Eaters dragged a young Muggle woman into the chamber. They shoved her hard and she landed in a heap in front of Voldemort's feet. And Harry's. She had red hair. Harry felt his hate for Voldemort rising to intolerable levels, but forced himself to suppress it.
The dark wizard was speaking, telling him to show all those gathered how to do it. How to torture like the Dark Lord's heir. Harry channelled the immense hatred he felt for the wizard sitting behind him and pointed his wand at the trembling woman.
"No … please no … don't …" she was whimpering, tears making the words almost incomprehensible.
But Harry heardthe pleas and ignored them, still pointing his wand in a sure hand. Come on. You can do this. You have done it.
He managed to hold the Cruciatus curse on his mother's look-alike for three full minutes. Voldemort was laughing, pleased. The Death Eaters were cheering him on, pleased. The Circle was enjoying a show.
After the screaming stopped and the vacant expression took over the woman's eyes Voldemort instructed him to -
"Finish it, my heir."
This was the easy part. Something to relieve her from all the suffering.
"Avada Kedavra."
Harry had said the words quietly, but that didn't lessen the power behind it. The Wizarding Worlds hero's first Killing curse at a human being was powered by unbelievable hatred, deep remorse and above all refusal to fail.
The redhead lay dead at his feet as the unmarked Death Eater was welcomed into the circle of the most loyal, most fanatical followers of the Dark Arts.
Later, as Harry was leaving the gathering, Voldemort pulled him aside to inform him that Draco, being the only Death Eater to know his identity, would bring him to other meetings. On the way back, Harry did his best to ignore Malfoys congratulations for his new position in the world. The mutual dislike they both had had since age eleven seemed to have disappeared on the Slytherins side.
That proved to Harry the shallowness of the other boy; switching directions like a vane to where the wind was blowing from. He fervently hoped Malfoy was a good actor, so he didn't have to explain this new hero worship to the school.
Thankfully, Lord Voldemort didn't call any new meetings during the rest of the Christmas Holidays, giving Harry time to get over the nightmares he had had about his first killing. It gave him time to face his friends as his usual self, not the murderer he had become.
The Sunday Hermione, Ron and the rest of his housemates returned from their break found him sitting in his usual chair, reading by the firelight. He looked up when they climbed through the portrait hole, smiled and thanked them for the wonderful presents he had received.
Life was back to normal.
… to be continued …