Harry was sitting in his seat, calmly paying attention, mechanically taking down his notes, but Harry Potter was far far from Hogwarts' dungeon and the potions class within.
"Where am I?" He asked the surronding darkness. His voice sounded hollow, it resonded off walls he couldn't see. A laughter echoed within the shadow that held him captive.
"Where are you?" Harry spun.
"Who's there?" He demanded sharply.
"I'm here." He knew that voice; he didn't know where he knew the voice from, but he knew it.
"Who are you?"
"Who am I?"
"Stop repeating my own questions to me! Where am I?!" Nothing. Growling in frustration, Harry turned circles. Complete darkness.
"You are here." His head snapped around and his body followed. This voice was different...melodious where the other was harsh, feminine were the other was masculine.
"Where is here?" He asked the snake he found hovering in front of his face, in appearent mid-air.
"You are here." She repeated, tapping her snout lightly against his forehead.
"My head?" The snake's head moved up and down in an elegant nod.
"In your head." She affirmed. Harry's eyes narrowed.
"Who are you?" The snake wrapped around Harry's shoulders, long white body twirling around him sensually.
"Not who your here to see, my dove...my sweet sweet dove." Her body was still wrapping around him; she appeared to be many times longer than he was tall.
"Who am I here to see?"
"You Know Who."
"No I don't....wait...yes I do...Voldemort?" He got the distinct impression that the long white snake was smiling.
"Who else?" She chuckled. Harry shuddered as a cold breeze ruffled his hair. Slowly he opened eyes that he hadn't realized he'd closed, the almost comforting weight of the snake around his shoulders suddenly absent. Before him stood a naked woman, all white and curves. She shone softly in a light that seemed to manifest of her alabastor skin. She was stranglely beautiful in a curious way. All her hair was stark white; not blonde or even light blonde like Draco Malfoy's, but white. The pure unmarked absents of color, even the soft pubic hair that covered her neather regions. Her skin was the same pure colorless shade; only her eyes were different. Red. Bright unnatural, pupiless red-like that of a snake.
"Come with me, Harry Potter...." Without thinking he took her out stretched hand and allowed her to lead him foreword.
"Can you see?" She laughed.
"I don't need to see." He took this face value and continued to follow her, not worried where his feet landed as there seemed to be no texture to the ground under him. He wasn't even sure if there was ground under him.
"Where are you taking me?" He ventured finally.
"You'll see..." They walked in silence for what seemed like a great amount of time when Harry noticed that things were gradually changing. His mysterious guild stopped suddenly, her eyes trained to a point just above what Harry supposed would be the horizon had there been one.
"Up there...I'll pray for you, Harry. We all will." Harry followed her finger, taking one tentitive step foreword.
"Wait..." But as he turned around all he saw was the very tip of a slender white tail. Swollowing hard, he took a step foreword, then another, then his legs seemed to move of their own accord, tendons and muscles working together to propell him foreword as the ground suddenly began to climb. Harry felt his body relax but tense all at the same time as he move toward a point he couldn't define; he unconciously reached into the folds of his cloak to seek his wand and was oddly pleased to find it was there. He didn't know how long he walked but the ground was growing steeper steeper eventhough there was no actual way to tell the difference between the ground and the sky, if there was one. After an incaculable ammount of time a pinpoint of light appeared. Not bright white, but more goldenish like the color of the morning sun, but too bright, too clean to be a type of light cast by say a candle. It looked so close, almost as though he could reach out and touch it, grab it and hold it in his hand. So he did and was surprised to find that his hand connected with something seemingly solid and he tugged on it. The tiny pinpoint of light expaded and he pulled again, bringing his body up his second hand craning to join the second and pulling harder. The light washed over him and he found himself on a ledge. It was actually a single peak and when he looked down it dispeared in shadow only a few feet down, to either side he only saw blackness. Holding his breath he turned on his precarious perch, sending a few rocks to clatter down a few feet and vanish into sudden silence. Once he had turned completely around his placed his hands on the ledge and leaned over carefully. There was not sheer darkness on the other side as he had expected but rather the most curious scene. He was looking down on a Qudditch pitch.
Bitting his lip he surveyed the surronding area. It was just the pitch, washed in brillant light, but everything else was complete darkness. He scanned the pitch again and something caught his eye; it was a single speck of black right in the middle of the brillent green playing field. He eyed it suspiciously and for some obsqure reason he was suddenly furious. Who dared to mar a perfect pitch? He opened his mouth to shout but what ever words he might have been about to scream were ripped brutally from his mouth by a sudden wind. He shut his mouth and glared; the wind fell silent. Finally he decided he would just have to march down there and see who it was. Determination sparked through him and he threw one leg over the ledge, searching for the same ellusive ground that had been there before. Only it wasn't there. He huffed in fury and frustration, sitting on the ledge roughly and wondering what would happen if he just jumped. Something told him he would die, even while something else was convinced that *he* was not actually *here*. However, this moment of consideration passed as his broom suddenly appeared in front of him. Without question he grabbed it and mounted, thrusting the handle downward toward the infuriating dot that was marring *his* *perfect* Quidditch pitch.
Something gold suddenly wizzed past him and his Seeker instincts kicked in. Momentairly forgetting the black spot on his pitch he swung the broom around and chased after the speck of gold that he immediatly decided was a Snitch, which he of course must capture. The ellusive golden ball dipped and spun in an erractic, seemingly purposeless flight. In a remarkable flip, Harry suddenly captured the small fleck of gold. He put on his victory smile, but even as his hands closed around the smooth golden ball, he was somewhere else.
Still clutching the Snitch in one hand he looked around wildly. He was on the pitch, his broom no longer in sight, and he had the most unerving feeling that he was being watched. It wasn't like at a Quidditch game where he *knew* he was being watched by hundreds of people; it was that unsettling feeling he got when there was just one person watching him, but when he turned to find that gaze there was nothing.
"Very impressive." Harry whirled to the sound of clapping to come face to face with his black dot. "Very impressive indeed." Now he recognized the voice. Voldemort. Yet he couldn't bring himself to let go of the Snitch and retreive his wand.
"What do you want?" Harry snapped, clutching the winged golden ball a little tighter.
"I would like to re-propisition you, Mr. Potter." Harry searched the faceless thing in front of him and his eyes narrowed. "I've been watching you, Harry and I think that you and I would make a wonderful pair..." A gloved hand detached itself from the general mass and settled against Harry's cheek. It felt very real and very cold against his skin. "We could be so good together." Harry jerked away.
"What do you want me for? A bedmate or dark wizard?!" Harry spat. Voldemort laughed.
"Both darling. Both." Voldemort lifted his hand up to where his face should have been and pushed, revealing pale skin and full sensual lips, a light spattering of freckles and soft brown hair. But those eyes...red lusterless eyes. Harry recoiled.
"You don't like my appearence? I could change it for you, Harry. I could be anyone you want..." He took a step toward the young boy and Harry took a step back. "Let me love you, Harry." He purred, his voice honey sweet. Voldemort took another step and Harry found that he was frozen to the spot. "You'll like it, I promise. I'll love you and you'll love me..." He bent his head down and catured Harry's lips in a soul-searing kiss. "And you'll be mine, and we'll rule the world together. You and I." He continued softly, moving his lips inches away from Harry's. Harry slid his arm up Voldemort's chest and arround his neck; the man smiled in triumph as Harry drew him back down for another slow sensual kiss that suddenly turned violent when Harry thrust his tongue into the older man's mouth. Voldemort moaned and wrapped both his arms around Harry's waist and down to grasp his ass, pulling him roughly towards his body. Harry pulled away fractionally.
{{"Love me...."}} He pleaded, the Snitch droping from his hand and flying away. He was so tired of the fighting, of the pain, of the unwanted attention, of being unwanted. Voldemort smirked in victoriously and reclaimed Harry's mouth in a hungry, desperate kiss.
"My love, I must go," Voldemort told him, running a finger down Harry's face. Smiling what he hoped was a pleasent smile, the Dark Lord carefully touched their lips together in a more gentle, loving carress. Harry gasped as his body was flooded with warmth and tickles of power ran up and down his spine. Voldemort backed away slowly and continued speaking, "I must go, but we will be together very soon. Keep this between us...tell no one. In one week's time, my faithful servent, Severus will bring you to me. Won't you, Severus?" Harry spun to find his potions master standing behind them, his face litterly a blank grey mask. It took a moment for the man to grasp that he was being spoken to, but he regained his witt quickly and bowed from the waist.
"Of course, my lord...my lords." Harry felt oddly giddy to be addressed with respect and smiled brightly.
"That's my Harry...you'll like this buisness...yes, you'll like it very much." Voldemort laughed a little, then with a farewell kiss to Harry's mental lips, the figure that represented Lord Voldemort was gone. Harry placed a hand against his lips and smiled foolishly, not paying attention to anything in particular. He was thus extremely startled when he felt an oddly light hand on his shoulder.
"You should be getting back to class now, Mr. Potter...remember what the Dark Lord said; tell no one." Harry nodded, looking up at his professor expectantly.
"Um...how do I get back to class?"
"How did you get here?" Harry shrugged and said,
"I don't know." Severus sighed, but didn't seem to be annoyed.
"I'll send you back...this might...jolt a little." Severus warned. He closed his mental eyes and concentrated his energy before forcing both himself and Harry out of the boy's mind.