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Dark Alliances

By Merirosvo

Action / Drama

Chapter 1: Meeting with the Devil

Disclaimer: I do not own anything of the Harry Potter universe and story; all of this belongs to the great J. K . Rowling. I do not make any profit from writing this.

Summary: The prospect of working with this man and his cruel henchmen deeply disgusted him. But he had no choice. Nobody had.
The magical world was in war. But now she was no longer between Light and Darkness. No, wizards, whatever their camp, were now fighting for their survival. Because one day, they had been exposed.

Chapter I : Meeting with the Devil

Harry, Ron and Hermione were walking into the courtyard of Hogwarts, heading for the large and heavy doors of the castle in front of them. Almost glued to each other, they all have different expressions on their faces. Ron's face was marked by panic, and his eyes were shouting his disgust. Hermione had watery eyes but a determined expression. As for Harry, he was looking all around them, his mind on alert. He was obviously ready to attack if the situation demanded it.
They all tightened their hands on their wands; like they wanted to show at themselves they were not disarmed, not vulnerable.

They had walked into the courtyard of Hogwarts together countless times. But this time was different, because they never had walked here with Death Eaters all around them.
The doors opened as they were just before them.
-The Lord awaits us in the headmaster's office, the Death Eater whose name was Yaxley said.
Ron and Hermione exchanged a scared look. But Harry remained impassive. They knew what would happen, what must happen.
And he was ready. Even if he remained on the defensive, he was ready. It was better to be cautious.

They began to walk through the corridors that led to the office of the headmaster in the silence, the trio always surrounded by the Death Eaters. Two were in front of them, there was one on each side, and finally two behind them. Well, nothing reassuring, but they had been imposed. It was not their choice. Soon, they arrived at their destination. The door opened, and the Death Eaters faded to let them enter first. The wand clutched in his hand, Harry entered before the others, followed by Hermione and Ron. The Death Eaters also entered, and the last of them closed the door. Ron whirled. Fear was read on his face, and his anger; he felt trapped.

He wanted to protest, but Hermione dissuaded by pulling him by his sleeve. The situation was already difficult enough, he had to stay calm. Especially since she was not fooled: she and Ron had been invited only because they were following Harry in his dangerous path. The only person who was really called to come here was Harry himself.
The Chosen One was not looking at them. His eyes were on the man who was sitting on the chair of the headmaster, the chair of fire Dumbledore. But the Boy-Who-Lived did not begun to yell at him that he was not worthy to sit in this place. Because there was not time for unnecessary feelings. The situation and the man in front of him and who was looking at him with intensity required Harry to be strong, to stay strong, and imperturbable.

The man suddenly grinned, and he stood up elegantly. He walked around the desk and came close to him. His red eyes shone in a cruel and amused gleam. He was trying to dominate him, to show him clearly by their difference in size, and his presence, that it was he, the master.
There were only a few centimeters separating them...
-Good evening, Harry Potter, the cold voice said.
-Good evening, Voldemort.

A movement shook the Death Eaters behind him, but the Dark Lord raised his hand. There had been no animosity or respect in Harry's voice. Only neutrality. Voldemort was his name, he had just pronounced it.
Their eyes never leaving, the Lord showed him a chair, where Harry sat. Never the Dark Lord had looked at Ron and Hermione. They simple did not exist. They asked at themselves if it was a good or a bad thing.
-Yaxley, bring them in their common room. Other, get out.
Harry sat up quickly, while Ron and Hermione retreated a step while Yaxley began a movement in their direction.

The Lord had a cruel smile, obviously their meeting greatly amused him.
-Come on, why so much distrust?
-We do not trust you, Harry replied immediately.

Ron gulped and turned in his direction. He wanted so much that Harry looked him, because he really wanted to show him that he didn't think anger the Dark Lord was a good idea.
-They are my friends, they can stay, the Chosen One continued.
-Yaxley, do it, Voldemort yet said.

The Boy-Who-Lived opened his mouth, ready to argue, but Hermione took him by surprise.
-Everything is alright, Harry. If we are attacked, we will defend ourselves
A Death Eater sniffed loudly, clearly he had doubts that a Mudblood could pose a threat.
-Do not worry, she continued.

Taking Ron's arm, she turned to Yaxley.
-We follow you, she assured.
She gave a last look at this best friend, praying mentally Voldemort will not harm Harry when they would be alone. She and Ron left the room, followed by the other Death Eaters.

It was better to not anger the Lord and sleep in their common room, with their friends, was very far from being horrible.

The door was shut, leaving Harry Potter and Lord Voldemort alone in the same room. The Dark Lord sat on the headmaster's chair. Eye to eye, the Gryffindor remained impassive. His scar was hurting him, but he forced himself to push the pain.

No word was spoken for a long time, they were only looking at each other. In addition, Harry was not sure what or where to start. It was his worst enemy who had invited him-indeed almost ordered to come here- and it took Harry all the promises of the world that he and his friend would remain safe, to agree to come. So he felt that it was Voldemort to begin to speak first.
But he knew that, despite the risks, he had done well to come here to talk with this man who wanted to kill him for years.
The situation required it.

-You said nothing? the Lord asked him, mockingly.
-I appreciate being able to stay in front of you without receiving death threats every two seconds. It changes.
The Dark Lord smirked. But Harry remained cautious. The man was sitting elegantly and stared at him with that superior look.
-You have a plan, I guess? the boy asked.
-An alliance is indispensable, the dark wizard replied immediately. The Order and my Death Eaters must collaborate.
The disgust he felt towards the Order of the Phoenix was undeniable. The way he spat the word ...
-You and I need to work, he added.
And the Lord seemed very amused by the situation. He was mocking at him, somehow. Because this collaboration -Harry was not stupid- meant that the man will dominate, that Harry will be under his supervision, leaving him so little space, so little freedom.

And the Boy-Who-Lived loved more than anything, his freedom. However chaos and desolation suffered by the magical world in its totality could not be taken lightly.
-Shacklebot and Remus Lupin arrive tomorrow, in the morning, he said.
-So, we will have our meeting tomorrow, where we can decide our next steps.
The Gryffindor nodded.
-Well, it is time for a big boy like you to go to sleep.
The "big boy" did not hide the contempt he felt towards him, but Voldemort paid no attention.
-No need to accompany me, he warned. I know where the Gryffindor common room is and I do not intend to run away.

The grin of the man made something in his mind to ring like an alarm. Like a warning.
-But who said that you were going to sleep there?
Harry was taken aback.
-Oh no, you're going to sleep near my own neighborhood.
-And if I refuse? Harry challenged him.
-You and I know very well that you are not able to do so.

It hurt to admit it, but Voldemort was right. Then the man raised his left arm, and Harry realized that he wanted to make them Apparate. He grimaced. If he did that, he would be completely at his mercy. But in the same time, he did not have a choice. Who knows what the man would do to his friends if he did not obey him?

Full of fear and anger, Harry put his hand on the arm of the Lord, ignoring the pain in his head, his scar.

And the two men disappeared. A moment later, they reappeared in a room. Harry quickly pulled away his hand, and took it back against him. He walked away a few paces from Voldemort, preferring to put distance between them.
He looked around to better see where he was. The room was neither small nor large. It was decorated with dark colors. The bed was against the wall, and there was a small table next to it.
-This is where you sleep, the cold and dark Voldemort's voice said.
Harry nodded.
-Do not try to get out of your room tonight. Mine is right next door, so if I was you I would not disobey my orders.
-I thought we should collaborate, Harry retorted.
-Did you insinuate that I make you prisoner?
-I don't have the right to leave! In your opinion, what does it mean that?
The Lord smirked.
-We must work together, but you're no allowed to visit the manor.
-This is your headquarters, right? You are scared that I would put my nose where I shouldn't?
-It seems that you are not utterly stupid. Well, this exchange is pleasant, but I have other business to attend to. You'll be awake tomorrow at exactly 7am.
-You may also want to tuck me?

Voldemort, who had approached the door, suddenly turned to him. The smile he wore awakened instinct of Harry's survival. Ready to respond if needed, he sustained the eyes of the assassin in front of him.

But the Lord did nothing, and after a long time, went out without saying a word. Harry sighed, half relieved to finally be alone, half panicked to sleep next to the man who had killed his parents.

However, he soon found himself lying in the silky bed, still dressed -he had no other clothes on him- and then he stared at the ceiling. Hand tightened on his wand, he tried to sort through his mind.

The prospect of working with this man and his cruel henchmen deeply disgusted him. But he had no choice. Nobody had.
The magical world was in war. But now it was no longer between Light and Darkness.
No, wizards, whatever their camp, were fighting for their survival.

They had been discovered. They had been exposed.

So Harry understood. They had to collaborate. Because otherwise, the list of victims would stretch out. And he never wanted to feel again the terrible void that had come when he learned of the death of people he knew, simply because they were wizards.

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