Right then. Less procrastinating, more chapters! (If only repeating this statment over and over meant it actually happened...). I started chapter seven the other day and have done some editing of Ch6 so I feel like it's sort-of okay to post this. I promised myself I wouldn't post it until I'd updated my 'list of plot trip-ups' (also known as 'stuff I wrote earlier but will probably forget') but I got too impatient. So yeah; here, I hope you enjoy! (This is when we find out why this is a creature feature!)


Previous chapters:

Prologue / Chapter One / Chapter Two / Chapter Three / Chapter Four /




Quick Summary: Harry Potter is the wizarding world's hero. But when Voldemort discovers a dark magic that could turn his greatest threat into a valuable asset, will Harry be able to hold onto who he is, or submit to the shadows within? (Creature feature)

Set in 7th year, but follows canon only till the end of Goblet of Fire.

Title is a song by Ben Harper

Pairings: Harry/Draco, Sirius/Remus, Hermione/Ron. Implied Voldemort/Draco, Voldemort/Death Eaters

Warnings:

-Spoilers for books (and movies, I guess), 1-4 with occasional 5-6 spoilers for largely irrelevant things like character names and monsters and things. Not plot-related stuff. (I think/hope).

-Rated R-18 (for later chapters) Also known as NC-17 (for Americans.)

-This story contains - obligatory capitals: SLASH! Also known as YAOI, also known as males having sweaty sex with OTHER MALES. If you don't want to read that kind of stuff, don't read the fic. Don't complain to me if you do and it grosses you out, that's just silly on your part. There are also issues of non-consensual sex. Run while you still can.

A/N for this chapter: Just FYI, I know noooooooooothing about Latin, like, not a single thing. So as I needed to invent a creature name based in Latin, I am very nervous as to whether I have used the right forms of the words. (I just looked them up in an online dictionary). If anyone out there has the knowledge to correct me (if necessary), please feel free to do so. Thanks. Oh and, for the plebs like me, it basically translates as Beautiful Death (formosus - beautifully formed, beautiful; letum - death, ruin, annihilation).





Disclaimer - This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

-

“Oh shit.” Harry said.

“Quite,” said Voldemort. “Don’t move, Boy,” he continued. “Unless, of course, you wish for me to focus my wrath upon all these innocent children?” he raised an eyebrow.

Harry froze.

WhatthefuckdoIdo? What the fuck do I DO!????

Voldemort stalked towards him and Harry tried to ignore the burning pain his presence caused, “What did you do?” Harry gasped, feeling the tense silence of the room.

“It’s a wonderful spell, Potter; I am quite pleased with myself really.” Voldemort hissed. “A variation on the Apparition charm, you see. It allows me to slip sideways out of our normal reality, into an alternate dimension. Here, my magic and body are slightly beyond our normal plane - within it, but without it.

By now Voldemort was only a few metres away, and Harry was wondering if attempting to bludgeon the Dark Lord to death with a pitcher of pumpkin juice was a good plan or not.

The Dark Lord waved a skeletal hand around the room at the frozen people, “All this is happening inside a millionth of a second in their time, only their magic allows them to still observe what is happening.”

Voldemort stopped a few seats away, “Of course, you and I, Harry, are linked by both blood and magic. As it is a simple spell, it recognises us both as a single entity.” He smiled a terrible smile, “Convenient, that, isn’t it?”

Harry was awash. Pain, fear and anger all threatened to consume him. It had been so different in the graveyard, only a few years ago; with only himself to defend, and death a surety, it was less difficult to throw himself into the line of fire. Now, the idea of defying this man, with the lives of hundreds of students at risk was utterly incomprehensible.

Voldemort looked around the frozen students until his gaze came to rest on Ron, who had been sitting next to Harry throughout the meal.

“Ah, the Weasley traitor,” he glanced at Harry, “A good friend of yours, I am told.”

“No!” Harry said, standing up before he could think of what Voldemort might do, “Leave him out of this!”

Voldemort smiled again, “I would be quite happy to, Harry, but for that I need your help. The magic of the ordinary plane, like the wards of this school, does not affect us in this dimension, but you are wholly here so the spells that protect yourself are working perfectly.”

Harry had only a moment to think, What spells? before Voldemort continued.

“Those irritating spells and charms prevent you from leaving the school grounds physically, or being Apparated, Portkeyed or otherwise teleported, without your consent.” He placed his wand delicately at the base of Ron’s skull, “But they don’t prevent that when your consent is given.

“Although I am perfectly content to exterminate every one of these children that are disloyal to my cause, I suspect you will give me the consent I need without me having to go to such extremes.”

He looked Harry in the eye, “Your loyal Weasley’s brains splattered across Gryffindor table would, I think, be enough to persuade you?”

Harry scrambled out from behind the bench so that he could face Voldemort properly, “No! Wait, don’t hurt him!” he shouted.

Voldemort smirked, “Your consent then Harry?” he said, holding out his other hand.

Harry looked from the hand, to Ron, to Voldemort and back again, feeling that this whole thing was utterly surreal. Ron had been frozen turned towards Harry with a goofy smile on his face, about to say something. Now, his eyes seemed to hold some kind of beseeching horror. Harry knew Ron, and himself, well enough to know Ron was thinking he would rather die than for Harry to be taken.

Harry could almost feel the thoughts those eyes were trying to communicate: ‘I’m not important, save yourself!’

He could feel Dumbledore’s presence behind him, the guiding wisdom that over the years had hinted that Harry really was special, that he was the only one who could win this war forever. ‘We aren’t important, save yourself!’

He could feel his own fear, the terror of what Voldemort had planned for him once he took that hand. Run! Get out of here! Save yourself!

But he could also hear the screams - screams of countless innocent lost... screams of his parents. He could not bear to sit by and let more be added to that tally when he could do something to stop it.

“Come, come, Harry, we don’t have all night; I can easily deal to this one here and move on to the next if you need more incentive?”

Harry glared at Voldemort then glanced at Ron, one last time, “I’m sorry.” He said quietly. He turned to Voldemort. Bracing himself, he said, “I consent,” and took the offered hand.

The pain was so overwhelming he barely noticed Voldemort’s laugh, or even the squeezing feeling as they Apparated far away from Hogwarts.


~..*..~


It was probably one of the most odd, and most terrifying moments of his life.

One moment Draco was idly removing his fork from Jason Buchanan’s hand while turning his head to continue Potter Watching, then it was like the universe stopped.

It wasn’t like when you’d been hit with a petrifying, or freezing charm - when life continues around you but your muscles are incapable of responding to your commands. It was more like, if you blinked, and while your eyes were shut for a split second, you saw an entire story play out before your eyes, then you opened them again and everything was normal.

When he saw Voldemort stepping into the Great Hall, his reaction was strange. He felt... violated, which was foolish, considering his life. But it was as if - it was okay for Dark Lords to affect his life during summer and Christmas breaks, but to have him entering the halls of the school made Draco feel like something sacrosanct had been made unclean.

As he watched Potter sitting there, staring helplessly as Voldemort advanced on him, he was filled with both a feeling of nausea as well as wrenching horror. He wasn’t sure if he felt like screaming “Run! He’ll kill you!” Or, “Don’t move! He’ll kill you!” as he watched the scene unfold.

When Harry apologised to Weasley with that look of sorrow on his face, it made Draco angry. Angry that Potter felt that he had to apologise, angry that this was happening at all, and angry that Potter really could still be so fucking noble in the face of certain torture and probable death.

Git.

Admittedly, this didn’t stop Draco from wishing he could burst out of his skin and stop Potter from taking that hand.

Voldemort laughed, then they were gone.

When Draco blinked, he realised that the spell had ended. For the smallest instant, there was complete silence, as if everyone was taking a moment to wonder if they had just dreamed the whole thing.

Then Granger’s heartbroken voice tore through the silence, “HARRY! NO!”

Draco shot off the bench, standing to stare across to the space where Potter no longer existed. The screams and clatter of children and teachers realising what they had seen was no illusion echoed around him. Weasley was sitting, staring at where Potter disappeared from, with a grey tinge to his skin, ignoring the hysterical demands from his girlfriend of, “Where did he go!? What do we DO!?”

Draco looked to Dumbledore, who was still standing as he had before the spell, but as Draco watched, he turned and met the gaze of Professor Snape who was also standing, tight-lipped and pale; the potions master nodded, just once, and turned and exited the room through the staff doorway.

Amidst this chaos, a very small owl darted into the room and dropped a tiny piece of parchment into Draco’s hands. He looked down, recognising the small crest scratched in the corner.

It was from his father.

Draco stared at the parchment, ignoring the chaos while Dumbledore shouted for silence, for the guard to sweep the school, for the wards to be sealed. Draco just stared at the parchment, then, with faintly trembling hands, opened it.


‘Keep your head down. I’ll be coming for you tonight.

L.’


Draco blinked and looked around the room, the students were settling down a little as the guard emptied out of the room, rushing to secure the school from potential threats. Granger and Weasley were being comforted and protected by a huddle of friends.

No one noticed when Draco Malfoy sat down and burned a small piece of paper to ash.


~..*..~


Bones. Bones melted into lava. Muscles torn by ravaging claws into mere shreds. Nerves so traumatised they gave up, twitching and burning helplessly with or without stimulation. A mind lost somewhere between the twins of agony and despair.

Harry wasn’t sure how long the torture had been going on, hours or days - everything blurred eventually. The only thing he was grateful for at this point was that the pain had deafened him to Voldemort’s incessant monologuing.

As he drew in one more rattling breath, he realised with some surprise, that there had been no new influxes of pain for some time. The torture seemed to have stopped for the moment.

He waited, tense, but still nothing happened, so he blinked painfully, (even my eyelids hurt!) and opened his eyes.

“Ah, Mr Potter, so glad you could return to us.”

Deprived of his glasses (he wasn’t sure when they disappeared), half-blind, Harry was still able to source the voice, marked by glowing red eyes.

Voldemort spoke again, “For all that making you scream and writhe is an extremely pleasant experience for both me and my Death Eaters, I did not bring you here just for games. I have found a use for you, boy.” Voldemort turned and snapped his fingers at some of the Death Eaters that were ranged around the room. “Bring it.” He ordered.

Voldemort turned back to Harry, who was lying, exhausted on the floor of the great dark audience chamber to which he had been brought. While they waited, Voldemort, looking alarmingly cheerful, began to explain. “You see, Potter, recently my servants made an impressive discovery while searching Mayan ruins in South America,” the two Death Eaters returned to the room, holding between them a small, but elaborate wooden box. Voldemort placed his wand-tip underneath it, and quietly spoke a charm that didn’t sound like it was in Latin.

The box opened and the whole room became completely silent as, surrounded by black stone, a tiny luminescent sphere was revealed, about the same size and colour of a pearl, but glowing with piercing radiance.

Speaking in a hushed tone, Voldemort said, “The egg of a Formosus Letum.”

Some vague memory from a Care of Magical Creatures class stirred in Harry’s head, but despite the urgency of the situation, his assaulted brain couldn’t make the connection.

Voldemort spun back to face Harry, a fanatical gleam in his eyes, “Do you know what this is, Harry?” he crowed, “The Formosus Letum is one of the most feared creatures of the magical world. Incredibly powerful, and completely deadly, they are creatures of renown and legend.

“For years, they have been thought extinct. Their breeding method is strange and rarely documented. It is believed that they pass on their life-force through a pearl-sized egg that infuses the body of another being with their power and genetics.” Voldemort chuckled, “What lucky chance it was that my followers found such a prized object.”

Harry stared blankly at the small box, I suppose ‘lucky’ is one word for it.

“Now, herein lies a problem, my dear boy,” Voldemort continued, starting to pace slowly back and forth, “The Formosus Letum would be a powerful asset to my cause; but whom do I choose to fulfil the position?”

Vague amusement spiked through Harry, Oh, please let me guess!

“Sparse though the documentation on these creatures may be; it all agrees that for the transformation to work, a great amount of natural power is required, lest the transformation should fail and the host die. Now, I have plenty of powerful wizards and witches at my command,” he said, lazily walking around the circle of Death Eaters, “Like my dear Lucius, here,” he said, patting the cheek of a hooded man. There was a long pause while Voldemort stared at Lucius with narrowed eyes until the blond man started to look a little nervous, but eventually Voldemort turned back to Harry, “But, can I really afford to chance losing the life of one of my most useful followers on such a risky operation? Of course not!”

The Dark Lord’s laughing features suddenly turned icy as he stopped playing the whimsical lord.

“But you, Harry... You, I can afford to lose.” He said.

“Both my enemies and my supporters keep claiming that you have an unusual amount of power and strength for one so young. I have now finally figured out a way that you and your surprising ‘gifts’ could become advantageous to me.” He imperiously snapped his fingers, and two more Death Eaters grabbed Harry and dragged him into a half-kneeling position while the other two carrying the tiny chest came closer.

Harry gasped and weakly tried to struggle, but the previous torture had left him unable to resist as the Dark Lord approached.

“You should feel honoured, Harry, this is going to be quite a fantastic experience for you. There are a great many ways for a man to die, some great and some shameful. In a few moments either you are going to be transformed into a fearsome creature that will aid me in my campaign, or you will die quite a spectacularly painful death. I hope you are pleased that you have been awarded the honour of such a magnificent death.”

Harry coughed, “Thrilling.” He whispered hoarsely, “I’ll have to thank you some day; see my excitement.”

Voldemort smiled with dark pleasure, “Oh, I will Harry, I will.”

He turned, “Bring it to me.” He commanded.

The box was presented once more. Another whispered charm had the tiny pearl flashing with light, then raise slowly out of the black surround.

Fear started to overcome Harry once more, eyes locked on the shimmering seed, he whimpered and tried to pull away again.

Fingers pressed painfully into Harry’s jaw and he was forced to open his mouth. Another spell had his tongue lifting to press against the roof of his mouth. Almost cross-eyed, Harry watched in blinding horror as the egg was placed under his tongue and his mouth was snapped shut.

At first, nothing happened.

“Bind him! And move away, fools!” Voldemort ordered, watching Harry avidly.

The hands supporting him left, replaced by manacles and chains. Harry wavered, dazed, feeling the cool sphere under his tongue, wondering if this was all just an elaborate joke to scare him out of his wits.

After a long moment of waiting, one of the Death Eaters spoke out with a rough voice, “Looks like it might have been a dud, Boss.”

Voldemort didn’t waver in his stare, “Watch.” He murmured.

Harry locked gazes with Voldemort, then he realised that there was no way that this was a joke. The egg clacked against his teeth; suddenly warmth filled his mouth, the hard sphere abruptly seemed to ... melt, underneath his tongue...

After that, coherent thought was impossible.

Flooding pain - fire, ice.

It got into his blood; sliding through his veins, seeping into his bones, filling his brain, burning his nerves. Breaking, melting, tearing, shredding.

He screamed. Once he began he couldn’t stop.

It was a deep agony which caused tears to seep from his eyes, that caused him to feel like his insides were being pulled to his outsides, caused flashes of sensation, smells, tastes, to blast through him, images blurred before his eyes - whether they were closed or open.

Above all, the feeling like there was poison in his blood; that something was terribly, severely, wrong.

He wasn’t sure how long it was before he blacked out, only that the darkness that claimed him was neither peaceful nor quiet. Something lurked there, something that was waiting...

Waiting for him.


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( Next Chapter )




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