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... But now, this changed things. If Harry Potter had endured the same trials and constrictions that he had, then there was hope for him. Having a lieutenant as powerful as Potter could become was a definite advantage, one that he would try to cultivate. If things did not work out; he would slay the little bastard, prophecy or not.
The Dark Lord Voldemort did not bow before the words of a halfwit soothsayer.
Harry nodded in the affirmative, and said “Enough for now. I believe I have certain business to take care of, after which we shall converse. I assume you have a silencing charm in place? Or have you terminated the Order guard?” Voldemort nodded at the first question, an expectant smirk on his face as he motioned Harry towards his waiting family.
“Be careful,” Harry said absently, stalking towards his relatives with an insane glint in his eyes. “The guard will be replaced in three hours.”
Harry took a moment to examine them dispassionately. Vernon had a series of cuts all over his bare body, tears rolling down his face. A dagger was stuck into his shoulder, pinning him to the wall, and from what Harry could see, the dagger was exceptionally rusty. He smirked and turned to Dudley, who had been pinned to the wall in a grotesque representation of the Holy Cross that was mounted on the nearby shelf, large silver spikes jammed through his palms and feet, barely supporting the corpulent boy’s weight. He had the word &...