Warnings: Torture, TomHarry, deathfic.

Disclaimed

N/A: Last part of Slaved. (written 09-05-06, two hours for three chapters)

.SLAVED.

Chapter Three--

Destruction

-

Harry could remember. He could see every detail of his memory quite clearly, every flash of the past sweeping through his head at the same time.

"Wha—!"

A line. Ron falling. His neck breaking.

Hermione screaming. Her voice cracked. Hair ripped and scattered.

Freckled skin falling on Harry's face. Ginny's cold, dead face. Her blood everywhere—

"NO!"

Harry fell to the floor of his room, missing his bed by inches. His back was enflamed again. And his heart—his heart was beyond repair.

All he did was scream. Harry tried to scream himself back into insanity, where he had the nice and private life with Tom, but he couldn't go back there. His hands were hindered again. Lucius pulled him to his feet and silenced his pained cries.

Harry remembered being dragged out of his room. He was pulled into Tom's room, and he faced a monster on his lover's bed. Harry's green eyes were wide and desperate. Voldemort watched the boy from the corner of his own eyes.

"Where's Tom?"

Harry pleaded the Dark Lord to answer him. So Voldemort did.

"I killed him."

"Why?"

The boy's eyes were tearing. Voldemort refused to face him.

"No one can take what's mine."

"BUT I LOVED—!"

Voldemort, infuriated and miserable on the inside, snapped his head towards Harry, his dark crimson depths glaring daggers through the boy's thoughts. Voldemort growled at Harry, unable to speak to the boy in any other way without betraying himself.

"Your heart is mine, boy. I broke it. I get to keep it."

Harry stopped seeing Voldemort for a second. Lost in his hazy world of pain and loneliness, Harry gazed past the Dark Lord, seeing something more in the room than Voldemort could.

"Tom…"

Harry's sobbing continued. Voldemort couldn't bear to look at him.

"Ron…Hermione…"

"Oh, Tom, fucking help me—!"

But Tom couldn't. Raising his wand, Voldemort finished the boy without looking at him. Voldemort couldn't see the final look of the desperate affection screaming in Harry's expression. Voldemort couldn't stand to see it.

"Lucius…" The servant approached. Voldemort couldn't help but to let his voice crack.

"Why didn't you finish him like I told you to…?"

The Death Eater bowed in apology. But Voldemort couldn't see it.

-

Having not moved since his killing, Voldemort could feel his body growing overly stiff. The Dark Lord fidgeted slightly, bloody eyes trailing onto Harry's corpse in the middle of his room. Voldemort could feel himself crying. He hated it.

"Why did I have to kill myself…?"

Voldemort didn't know. And Harry's dead body didn't know either.

--end part THREE of THREE.

(finish)

N/A: Heh. I made Voldemort cry again. But it wasn't as descriptive as his mourning session in Mind Trap.

Well, that's it. Weird style. I'm not that much of a fan for this deal. But whatever.

Tell me what you think. ♥