Corruption (Book 1 of The Corruption Sequence)

Chapter 4 - Revenge

"Would I ever do that?" Harry asked, moving just a little closer and letting his eyes flick over the wand in Voldemort's hand. "If you don't mind me asking, what did you do with my wand?"

"It is in a safe place," the Dark Lord replied. "Why, did you want it back?"

With a shrug, Harry glanced around casually.

"I'm not sure if it will suit me anymore," he said, as if he did not really mean it.

Voldemort would never see him as harmless, but Harry watched as his ruse worked—his enemy now thought he believed that he needed his wand. That the Dark Lord would underestimate him now was clear. Harry tried to appear annoyed, as if he had just realised he had revealed too much. For good measure he hissed at Voldemort.

"Now, now, Harry," his enemy lightly chastised, "I will return it when I believe you are ready, but you must learn patience. You are one of us now, and it will take time to adjust. Wormtail!"

A cowering figure appeared from behind the throne. Harry could not stop the snarl that escaped him as he saw his parents' betrayer.

"Ah yes," Voldemort said at his reaction, "I had forgotten the animosity between the pair of you. I am sorry, Harry, but you cannot have him; I find him far too useful. Wormtail, fetch a robe for our newest member."

At the sight of the man who had caused him so much grief, Harry found that he was tiring of the game. He shifted his weight to his toes as Wormtail scurried off to do his master's bidding. It was time to end this, time to kill and be killed.

"You took my blood," Harry said slowly as if he was thinking something through, "and I find that now I see that in an entirely different light."

He smiled at Voldemort as if he was over his fit of pique, the wizard smiled back at him in his own twisted way.

"I imagined you would," the Dark Lord said as if it was obvious to him.

Harry let the rage free, and he sprang at Voldemort, shocking everyone in the room. He had timed his attack perfectly and there was nothing anyone could do.

"I want it back," he snarled before sinking his fangs into the old wizard's neck.

The blood that hit his throat tasted stale and bad, but it was full of power. It flared into and out of Harry as if he was a conduit. He heard spells being fired off as Voldemort struggled against him, but nothing hit him as power repelled power. The Dark Lord was strong in his new body, but he had given Harry a far greater strength in his attempt to make a weapon. Harry would not let go.

Drinking deeply, he took Voldemort's strength and, pulling back one hand, he did what he had been dreaming of in his darkest thoughts all night. He thrust his talons through Voldemort's robes and into the wizard's chest, closing around the twisted creation's shrivelled heart.

"Now you die," he hissed as he finally took his mouth away from the bloody neck, and he pulled, ripping Voldemort's heart from his chest.

As soon as he stopped drinking his protection faltered, but he waited, watching the light die in the Dark Lord's eyes. Two curses hit him, but he barely noticed, and only as he allowed Voldemort's bloody corpse to fall to the ground did he turn to look at the rest of the room. Some were fleeing, others were firing spells at him, but Harry caught one pair of eyes in particular.

"Your turn," he said pointedly as Bellatrix Lestrange looked at him in horror.

The Death Eaters had created a monster, and a monster he would be.

Everything melded into one bloody haze. In the end, Harry had no idea how many he killed or how many spells hit home as they tried to get away, all he knew was that he came back to himself hunched in the corner of the smaller outer chamber, covered in gore with no idea how he ended up there. His hunger was sated in all ways and he felt strangely empty inside.