Harry tried to escape, but there was nothing he could do. Even his Animagus form wouldn't work because of the tight chains. If there was even the smallest of space, the chains would tighten around him. If he turned into an eagle, the chains would kill him within seconds. He tried to block out the screams he heard from the Death Eaters as Voldemort identified each of them.
"- Bertha Jorkins was very useful to me. I broke her mind and she gave me information about one more servant who had been chained by his own father. Barty Crouch Junior has been in my service for a year now. He is currently at Hogwarts, enjoying the reactions of everyone, disguised as his father. Using the information about the Triwizard Tournament, Barty confunded the Goblet of Fire into accepting Harry Potter's name so that he could be brought here - it worked."
"Stop struggling, Harry," said Voldemort silkily as he approached the boy. "You should be honoured to be here. I must say you are nothing like what I expected."
"Then what did you expect I would be like?" asked Harry quietly.
"Well…" said Voldemort, smirking. "I certainly did not expect the Boy-Who-Lived, Dumbledore's pawn and secret weapon against me, to be a dark wizard !"
Several of the Death Eaters inhaled sharply at those words. If the Dark Lord said it, it must be true.
"I'm not a dark wizard!" said Harry, still not losing control of his emotions. They were locked tighter than a Gringotts vault, deep within him. "And I'm most certainly not Dumbledore's pawn."
"Yes, I know, you're not Dumbledore's puppet," said Voldemort, laughing softly. "But you and I both know you are a dark wizard, Harry; I can sense it! You were capable of committing cold-blooded murder at the age of eleven when you killed Quirrell; the first time I killed was at the age of sixteen. That's why you're not a light wizard; you do what needs to be done. You knew I was a threat to your life and you took action, even if it meant killing another person. Admit it! You're a dark wizard."
Harry refused to answer. In his mind, there was no such thing as light and dark. There was only magic in its purest form, nothing more.
"Dumbledore miscalculated, my friends," said Voldemort, turning to his Death Eaters. "He wanted a pawn, a weapon against me when I returned, so he sent little Harry Potter away to his Muggle relatives. That's where the old man's plans backfired. I found out later that Harry Potter was abused by those filthy Muggles; it was so bad that he ran away, never to be controlled by the old fool again. But it also made him hate Muggles, didn't it, Harry? He believes in our agenda; he hates Muggles and distrusts Muggle-borns and yet, people strangely believe him to be the beacon of the light!"
"I have spies in different places, Harry," explained Voldemort, smirking at the boy, having observed the look of surprise in the boy's eyes which had flashed for an instant. "I was able to gather a lot of information about you over the past year. Everything you have done - your adventures, your relationship with different people, your skills, everything. We are so similar, Harry. We are so similar, it is quite unnerving, isn't it?"
Voldemort grabbed Harry's face in his hand. "I shouldn't have tried to kill you," he hissed in his ear. Seeing the flicker of surprise on Harry's face, he laughed. "No, I should have kidnapped you instead. I should have raised you as my son, both of us having Salazar's blood running through our veins. How would you react to that, Harry? I can feel the conflict within you… I don't need Legilimency to know what you're thinking; you wouldn't have minded such a life, would you? Imagine what your life would have been like had you been raised as the son of the Dark Lord himself… you would have grown to admire me instead of hating me. The prophecy would have been rendered useless…"
"I never said I hated you," said Harry quietly, speaking for the first time.
Voldemort laughed softly in his ear. "Good… you know of my past from that incident in the Chamber of Secrets. I know how much you hate Muggles, Harry. I also know how much you crave knowledge. I can offer you more knowledge and power than you could ever imagine. You could be the ruler of the world, Harry! The prophecy will never come to haunt us again, and I will not kill you. You can pay Albus Dumbledore back for all that he has done to you. Magical power such as yours should not be wasted, young one. I can personally teach you the most arcane branches of magic. I am willing to accept you as my son, an honour which has never been bestowed upon any child in the world! I should have raised you as my son, forever negating the effects of the prophecy; you can see the advantages of this, don't you? Think like a Slytherin, Harry, for Salazar's noble blood flows in our veins! Had I made the right choice, I would never have lost my body all those years ago. No matter, it's a mistake I am willing to rectify. Will you, Harry Potter join me, Lord Voldemort?"
All the Death Eaters sucked in a breath, but the Dark Lord paid no attention. More than a year ago, Harry would have laughed in Voldemort's face, but after seeing the Dark Lord's memories, he could not bring himself to hate the man. It was easy to hate a monster but difficult to hate a human. In fact, he respected Tom Riddle. Tom was his teacher, his guide, his mentor. Harry had learnt so much from him from watching his memories. Tom was the man talking to him, telling Harry that he would give a place as his own son…
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