Harry Potter
Harry trembled violently in Voldemort's arms. Voldemort's arms. He was being held in the arms of the man who'd killed Cedric, who'd tried to kill him just months ago. The man didn't even look like a man, and he was taking Harry to be his pet?
The trembling didn't abate, even as time passed without Voldemort going for his wand. Why was he dragging Harry's death out so much? When the thought occurred to him, surprisingly, he truly did begin to relax. He wanted to be dead anyway, right? What did it matter what the Dark Lord did to him first?
It startled him a bit, how quickly and easily 'Voldemort' changed to 'Dark Lord' in his head, but really, who was he kidding? The man holding him was far more powerful than he could ever hope to be.
When they had ascended the staircase, the Dark Lord turned immediately to the right and they entered a kitchen. He could feel his stomach twisting into painful knots. It had been a week and a half since Harry had been given anything to eat, and he couldn't help casting longing glances at the fridge.
A flick from the older wizard's wand, and a dog bed, water bowl, and an empty dish appeared. Harry gazed at them with dull eyes. Why should he even go to the bother to eat or drink? He wanted to die, and he'd rather do it as soon as possible. The Dark Lord dropped him unceremoniously onto the bed, and Harry curled himself quietly into a fetal position.
All curled up as he was, it was impossible for him to observe the actions of the other man, but what did he care? Resolutely, he shut his eyes, and drifted off to sleep.
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Dark Lord's Pet
FanfictionAfter nearly getting killed by his uncle in the August before fifth year, Harry's magic, in a last ditch effort to save him, sends him to a powerful person with a similar magical signature. That person just happens to be one that wants to kill him. ...
