Disclaimer: Of course I make no profit out of writing down my perversions. The characters belong to JK Rowling; the issues are mine though.

Warnings: Non-consensual sexual slavery; Harry is bound to Voldemort as a belonging (he's not considered a 'person' anymore). BDSM practices in future chapters. Some other men (besides Voldemort) will also fuck Harry (namely Severus and Lucius, but I might use someone else if it is requested). Underage, voyeurism, humiliation, torture, murder… you name it.

A/N:You will notice my Voldemort is kinda OOC when compared to his cannon counterpart; he's affectionate, less inclined to scare his followers to death and a better tactician. That's because he's neither insane nor stupid in this story.

Prologue

The man knelt before the dais, his greasy black hair falling around his face in thick strands. Nothing could be read in either his deep voice or impassive, respectful black gaze; but to the Dark Lord it was apparent that the man was hiding his excitement at being able to bring such vital information.

"And you are sure of this Severus, yes?"

"Absolutely, My Lord, I heard the woman speaking myself. I can move it to the front of my mind for you to see, My Lord, if you so desire."

"No need, Severus. You have proven to be a faithful servant, so I will trust you on this."

"You honor me, My Lord."

"You deserve no less, my faithful one. I will seek the Potters myself and if what you told me is proven true, you will be greatly rewarded."

A slight tremor traveled down the hunching form's back and Lord Voldemort knew it was anticipation rather than fear. Yes, Severus Snape had not lied, for Lord Voldemort could read people better than any other mage.

No one lied to him twice.

"You may retire now, Severus. Do not speak to anyone else of what you just told me. When the time is right, I will make a public announcement."

Severus stood slowly but gracefully. His black eyes shone with pride as he gave a final bow to the Dark Lord and made his way out of the stone chamber.

Lord Voldemort sat on his metal throne dressed in luxurious black robes with silver lining. He was a picture of power and menace: tall, with regal cheekbones and completely white skin; his gleaming red eyes were both parts intimidating and striking, and framing his cold features fell a black mane of clean-cut hair.

Sighing contently, Voldemort rolled up his left sleeve to reveal a dark tattoo-like mark upon his inner forearm. The mark was shaped as a scowling skull with long fangs and a serpent coming out of its jaws. While the skull was still, the serpent coiled and hissed as if ready to strike. Voldemort smiled sweetly at it and touched its head with the tip of his slender wand.

"Lucius, Bella, come to me," he whispered.

Less than a minute had passed when the double door to the chamber opened wide and two people came forth. The one in front was a woman with a deranged look to her; she somehow seemed to be both skipping and dancing while she walked, and her long mane of unruly black curls accentuated the jumpy quality of her movements. She would have been very pretty with her big eyes and pure-blood bone structure if it weren't for the manic grin she wore and the way her eyes seemed to be about to fall off their sockets.

Behind Bellatrix walked a man that was the very image of pride and blood purity. Lucius Malfoy carried himself with an air of wealthiness and dominance that contrasted sharply with the woman's antics.

"My Lord, you called?" Inquired Lucius impassively while bowing low at the waist in front of the Dark Lord.

Bellatrix had thrown herself at the man's feet, barely refraining from touching him, a dreamy expression to her bulging eyes. She was murmuring under her breath, but no words could be made out of her speech.

"Ah, Lucius, Bella. How good it is to see you again. My loyal, loving servants. I have called on you because you will be given a great honor."

"Master!" Moaned Bellatrix, wriggling her hips. Voldemort petted her head absentmindedly while looking directly at Lucius.

"We are unworthy of your attention, My Lord," he said.

"Oh, Lucius… How it pleases me to hear your praises. But it is true that you both deserve your position. You've earned this great honor I'll bestow upon you."

"What is it, Master?" Asked Bellatrix while kissing Voldemort's leg through the black fabric of his robes. Her hands twitched on the floor, as if it was difficult for her not to reach out and worship him with them as well.

"Enough, Bellatrix," cut Voldemort in a hard voice. She immediately recoiled, falling off the dais in an ungraceful heap of cloth and hair.

Neither Lucius nor Voldemort paid her any mind.

"I have business to attend to," explained Voldemort calmly. "And you two will accompany me. Just the two of you."

"My Lord, no words could express my gratitude," whispered Lucius, bowing his head.

"My life is yours, Master!" Cried Bellatrix, just short of yelling. "I will die for you!"

"Now, now," said Voldemort in his sweetest tone. "No one said anything about dying. You will live to see a better world, Bella, my darling."

Bellatrix seemed disappointed, but quickly re-composed her mad grin. She began muttering nonsense anew.

"We will be leaving today when the sun goes down," declared Voldemort. "Go, you two. Be ready by sunset."

Bowing, both Death Eaters left the chamber.

Lord Voldemort stood then from his throne and stretched lazily. Walking regally, he retired to his personal living quarters.

The sky was tinted a deep red as the last vestiges of sun disappeared below the black lines of the horizon. The scarce light reflected off Voldemort's red irises. The corner of his thinly-lipped mouth quirked as he felt Lucius' and Bellatrix' presences approach from behind him. He felt Lucius' slight apprehension and deep respect and Bellatrix' insane excitement. His children, his servants. He allowed himself a spark of pride before turning to face them. They were dressed in their black Death Eater robes, the bone skull masks hiding their features from sight.

"I see you are ready. Good. Follow me."

Voldemort then jumped off the dark stone balcony to the darkness of the roaring sea far below. As he fell, he became ethereal of appearance, a line of dark smoke that cracked and snapped with the wind. His falling then turned into a flight of great speed, and he changed direction towards the cottage he knew hid the Potters. After him, two fast smoky figures followed, the delighted cackles of Bellatrix getting lost in the wind.

The three traveled that way for several minutes, until Voldemort spotted the secluded cottage in the distance and began reducing speed and losing height. The three smoke balls collided with the ground, producing a small crater each. Smoke tendrils arose from the holes, thickening until they took the corporeal shape of Voldemort and his two servants.

The three were standing some fifty meters away from the cottage, and Voldemort felt the inhabitant's fear as they scrambled inside.

"There are only two adults and the child," said Voldemort. "You will take care of the adults. Do not kill them yet, wait for me while I retrieve the child."

"Yes, My Lord."

"For Master!"

Voldemort walked leisurely towards the house while his two Death Eaters ran before him. He saw the lights of spells through the windows and heard a woman's screams.

Peace, he felt at peace.

Finally reaching the threshold, he looked inside in feigned interest before stepping in. It had been a cozy little home, he supposed, surveying the damaged furniture and burning curtains. A very young man whom he immediately recognized as James Potter was tied in the middle of the room, blood running down his face and a hateful expression in his clear blue eyes. Voldemort approached him with a small smile stretching his thin lips. He crouched beside the man, appreciating the zipper that had replaced the prisoner's mouth with a hum.

"What a nice home you have, Mr. Potter," Voldemort mocked. Bellatrix laughed, thrilled. A hoarse rumble could be heard from within Potter's throat. Ignoring him, Voldemort stood once again and continued roaming the house in the same serene fashion.

"Where is the bitch?" He asked no one in particular.

"Upstairs, My Lord," answered Lucius.

Humming again, Voldemort took the stairs one at a time, the small smile still on his face.

Lily Potter was sprawled on the floor, her red mane knotted and disarrayed. Bellatrix' work, most likely. She was unrestrained, but seemed paralyzed from the neck down. Tears stained her pretty face.

"Do not hurt my child, I beg of you!" She screeched in a small voice full of hurt. "Take me instead, kill me if you want! But please, for God's sake, don't harm my child!"

Voldemort stood before her with a dominant stance. He smiled perversely and the intensity of her sobs increased. Satisfied, he turned from her to the cradle containing the child. A privacy bubble had been raised around it, so that no sound could disturb the innocent creature's sleep. Slowly, Voldemort took the child in his hands and lifted him to his face. The infant opened his eyes sleepily and examined Voldemort silently, as in deep thought.

"Hello, thing," greeted Voldemort lowly. In the background, Lily's cries had quieted down to choked sobs and gasps. "I am Lord Voldemort. What is its name, bitch?" He asked the mudblood witch.

"Harry…," whispered the woman with baited breath.

Voldemort clicked his tongue.

"Pitiful, mugglish name," he declared. "I will give you a proper one later."

Voldemort then pointed his wand at the infant's forehead.

"No!" Choked Lily. "What are you doing!? What will you do to my child!?"

"Silence, scum!" Hissed Voldemort, throwing a silencing spell at the woman. "You disturb my thing with your wails."

Pointing the wand at the baby again, Voldemort put him under a deep slumber.

"Yes, mudblood," he said, turning to the woman as he secured the child against his chest. "That which you called yours is now mine. Say goodbye."

Lily's mouth worked frantically in her muted distress. Voldemort didn't look twice in her direction as he took the stairs again to get reunited with his Death Eaters. The two of them eyed the baby questioningly, but said nothing.

"We are to spare the mudblood bitch," Voldemort announced, much to Bellatrix' dismay. "But you may do as you please with Potter. Just make sure he dies at the end. I will retire now."

Bellatrix looked as if she wanted to complain, but thankfully kept silent.

Stepping out of the cottage, Voldemort turned his gaze upwards.

"How about a star's name? No? Well, it's too Black," he told the sleeping child.

Shooting towards the sky in a ball of smoke, both disappeared into the night.