WARNING. THERE IS A TORTURE SCENE HERE SO YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.


Dumbledore was positive that the world was out to get him.

It had just been notified by Molly that his precious psedo-grandson had been kidnapped right in front of her eye in the middle of Diagon Alley. Where there were at least three other witches and wizard to prevent that and yet somehow, by some evil curse, a little girl barely of age apparently managed to take Harry away from them. It wasn't kidnap, per say, because his dear Grandson had gone out of his own will but still, he was, effectively, now in the hands of the most dangerous man in the world; Voldemort!

His room that had been turned upside down by this revelation was vibrating again with his powers so close to the surface at the moment. It took all the patience and decades of practice to reign in back his magic before it could destroy more than just his books and trinkets. His placed a single hand over his eyes and took a seat on his chair with a deep, low sigh.

How? How did it all go so wrong? He had been working through a careful and detailed plan of making sure Harry received all that was needed for the upcoming war in the upcoming years by sharing Pensieves of the few memories he had gathered over the years about Voldemort. From there, after he dies, Harry would be on the road finding the Horcrux and the Weasley boy would leave the group, naturally, and they would all go back to traveling again as bosom friends and in the end, after a series of dedicated plans, Harry would offer himself to Voldemort during the inevitable War and the Horcrux in him would die and so would he. Then Voldemort would die from the rebound of the curse but this time, there would be no more Horcrux and he would die a semi-normal death (he found it hard to imagine that Voldemort will die the normal way after the way he treated his soul). But now, with the recent news, it was all going to be shot down the drain because the Boy-Who-Lived wasn't even sure to be alive still.

The anger inside him was bubbling again and he closed his eyes tight and spent a few minutes regaining back control on his Occlumency shield and calming down his magic from unleashing itself, again, to the world. When he opened his eyes, he wasn't shock to find his hand white from clutching on the hands of his chair so tight. He slowly flexed the muscles and tiredly laid back down against his chair.

How did he not see this? For years he had spent plans after plans on making sure that the caring and protectiveness and hero-complex side of Harry grew nicely enough so that he would sacrifice himself for the sake of his friends and 'family' during the upcoming Great War as per the Kill Voldemort plan went but he never expected a situation to force Harry to do such a thing would come so early! He had counted on the Weasley matriarch to keep him safe -he had seen how deadly Molly could be with a wand or a wooden spoon- and thought a trip to Diagon Alley, despite in war, wouldn't be such a bad idea considering that Voldemort was only gaining back the army he had lost sixteen years ago. But clearly he was not -at least not just that- and that immediately changes most of the plan he had been making for so long.

Another thing that was making him so angry and as the youngster says, pissed off, was the fact that he had no idea who the girl even was! From Molly's memories, she was obviously an Asian, possibly around the age of fifteen to eighteen and was definitely not wearing the native wizard wear. It was still a uniform of some sort thus made her a student in a possible Asian muggle school or an Asian country. But none of those factors changed the fact that she spoke perfect English, did not have a wand or any type of magical medium and had somehow subdued the Granger girl without even laying a single hand on her!

And there was one more thing that irked him; she looked familiar and even with his near perfect memory, he could not recall where he had seen her before.


Quiet tension sizzled in the small room fit for two. Harry's magic was getting agitated about the lack of use since his wand had been taken away from him and his magic was demanding to be let out. It was starting to get annoying and he was pacing around the white painted room in a futile effort to calm down. His nerves were going haywire and it was all he could do not to scream in frustration. Not to mention, the Asian girl called Voldemort by his other name; Tom. Tom Marvolo Riddle. Where had she heard that name? As far as he knew, he didn't think Voldemort would have let anybody hear that name or know it. Even to him, it sounded...muggle-ish. Was she a clairvoyance? A seer? (An image of the girl acting like Trelawney quickly gave him the shudders). A special spell, perhaps?

But he saw that she didn't have a wand and he was almost certain that she was not a witch because of the lack of said wand when she attacked Hermione. But a small voice quickly niggled at the back of his head, eerily sounding so much like his pseudo-sister. Don't wandless magic exist? Magic that needed no wand or any other medium? He had seen plenty of time when Dumbledore would do things that required no wand whatsoever with just a simple flick of his hands. He had also seen some of the others doing the same for small reasons like gathering homework from students' desks and such. The girl was acting the same way but somehow it felt...different. When she subdued Hermione, it felt like there was a certain type of foreign magic flowing around the area around Hermione but to him, it didn't feel right. It felt cold, unknown and dangerous.

And thus the thought brought him to his original questions that had been banging in his head since the day she entered his dreams. What was she? What was she doing here? Where did she hear the real name of Voldemort when she didn't look at all from the country? And why, when she called Voldemort Tom, it sounded so casual like it had been rolling of her tongues for years? Almost friend-like as if they had been friends for decades. The thought of Voldemort having friends suddenly gave his stomach a ring-around-the-roses kind of feeling. The idea of an evil man who had killed his parents, ordered the torture of Neville's parents and the death of hundred more, having a friend gave him the feeling of flying and falling and climbing at the same time. It turned him breathless and he was annoyed to find himself so.

Still, it didn't matter did it? In the end, it doesn't matter who the Asian girl was because he had a prophecy to fulfill. He had to kill Voldemort. He had to kill the man who had murdered and endangered the lives of thousands of men. He had to avenge all those that were hurt or died by the hands of the Dark Wizard. He had to make sure that the threat that was endangering the lives of his friends and pseudo-family be put down as swiftly and bloodless as possible. It was his duty. It was his destiny. Yet, even though he thought so, he still couldn't shake off the look of concern the Asian girl had for Voldemort or the way she calls him.


There were nowhere she could run from him.

'Oh yes', he thought to himself. He had seen her drop into the filthy half-blood 'house'. He saw how the Dark Lord chocked her and raised her up in the air and delved into her mind. Yes, he saw them all and as he looked at the bloodied house-elf at his side, he wished he could do it all over again but this time, to the man who had managed to hurt his love the way he had. And not to mention, he succeeded in enslaving her to him with the most disgusting way possible, making her unable to escape from his disgusting hands for eternity. And that irked him more than anything could.

His sweet little Mikan. How he love her so much. He had always watched her from afar, sometimes alone under the blasted sakura tree, sometime with that stupid Hyuuga boy and that bratty Imai. They were all filth to her, infecting her with diseases and all the filthy thing humans always carries with them. How could she not see that? How could she not see that as the years went by, she was slowly becoming one of them? It was disheartening to see it and he had tried to cleanse her. Oh yes, he did. He had make friends with the Wizarding World and managed to manipulate the stupid Minister of Magic to relinquish his hold on one of the Dark creatures that he was so sure could cleanse his love from the bad things in the world. But it didn't matter did it? No, he was so shocked when those two bratty boys came to see him and told him that his love had gone missing.

Missing? Where had she gone? How did she escape from his sight? He was only away for a while. He had to go and fulfill his duty. Didn't she understand that? Why did she leave then? Why did she leave him behind to suffer the fate of being under the control of that stupid prison? Why? Why? Why? He was maddened with grief that he almost killed the two boys when all of a sudden, one of them who had the Alice of Tracking, said that she was not in his current time. Rather, she had gone back in time to the Great Wizard Ages. He was so elated by that news that he only left the boys on the ground, clutching their heads as he went out to see the Time Traveler teacher and demanded he take him to the Great Wizard Age. He had made sure the idiot sent him at the right time when his love had fallen into. And he was so happy. He was so happy that he was going to see her again and bring her back to their world, to the prison that they were supposed to share together.

But then he found out that she had fallen into the hands of the Dark Lord, Voldemort and the wards around the house was so strong he couldn't even begin to try and find where does the ward starts and end. He had tried for days and days to get into the mansion but his effort were futile and he was so close to unleashing his Alice when all of a sudden he saw a house-elf cleaning the yard behind the mansion and was coincidentally in front of his eye. The house-elf, probably a new one, stepped slowly outside the ward after he pretended to be injured to capture it's attention and then everything went alright again. He captured the house-elf into his hands and using the power of Mind Reading from one of the alice stones his love had gathered for him, he searched for clues of his love and found them! He found them! The happy feeling in his chest came back again and this time, stronger than ever.

Until he found out about the agreement between her and the Dark Lord.

He suddenly found himself so angry, so frustrated, so disappointed that he didn't notice the house-elf was starting to thrash around in his hands and was about to scream too. Thankfully, he managed to cover his hands on it's mouth and dragged it away from the mansion. He took it to a nearby forest near the mansion and smiled and said, "I need an outlet for my anger. Come and be that outlet."

-TORTURE SCENE STARTS-

He tortured the house-elf for hours, slowly putting his curse directly into it's head where he knew it would feel like burning and then dragged the curse out again ever so gently -which was surprisingly even more painful than putting it in- and went on to doing it hours and hours. The house elf must have screamed his throat hoarse because his ears were ringing a little and to avoid anybody finding out their little secret, he dug his finger into it's throat and dragged the vocal cord out slowly because he wanted it to hurt like he was hurting by the betrayal of his love. He then quickly sent more curse in the wound to fester before healing it with one of the many Healing Alice stones he kept near him. He kept his anger on and on by reading the memories in the house-elf's head over and over again till he was satisfied and, just to end it all in one go, he slammed his sharp nail into the house-elf's stomach and yanked everything inside it out. The blood splattered across his face and instead of screaming in frustration, he just scowled at the bloodied figure. He brought his bloodied hands in front of his face and slowly licked all the blood away. He then remembered he hadn't fed in a while and since the creature's blood wasn't as bad as some of the others he had, he greedily drank all of its bloody from the huge wound on it's stomach and drank and drank until he was so full it felt weird to move.

-TORTURE SCENE ENDS-

A few minutes or hours passed and the sky was beginning to darken. He wiped his hands on the creature's filthy shirt and was happy to find that his mood had settled now, all thanks to the little house elf that had so graciously begged him to let it be his anger outlet. As he looked down as the creature's blood filled eye that had opened so big it looked unusually fascinating, he gently laid down on it's side and wiped the blood off it's face. Mikan's image suddenly appeared, replacing the creature and he cooed and gently lay his hands on her face. He missed doing that to her. He missed wiping her beautiful hair away from her face. He missed all of those and he wanted them back. He wanted his love back.

Why? Why did she leave him? Didn't she realize that now he has to kill the Dark Lord that had dared laid claim on what eventually was not his?

He had to get her back. He had to. He loves her too much not to. But he didn't have the power to break the wards around the mansion. Even with the almost thirty stones with him, not a single one of them breaks down wards. Instead, now he had to get himself allied to those who can. But who? Who could do that? As far as he knew, ward breakers were just as rare as it was now than it would be in the future. It was too dangerous of an occupation because of the large quantity of magic needed to break wards and not many wizards or witches have that.

But wait, there was one.

Albus Dumbledore.

'Oh yes', he said to himself. He looked down at the illusion of his love and smiled again. It was an illusion but he didn't care. For now, it would do. For now, it would be enough.

"Yes, my little love. We'll meet again. Just wait, okay?"


Wow that was some intense shit. Oh well, for those of you who have an interestingly high overactive imagination and managed to picture the scene really well, I want to say I'm sorry but I'm not. That scene was needed because it shows just how far psychotic stalkers can be. Anyway, since I will be starting university in less than two weeks, updates will be slow because my mother apparently, expect a 3.8 GPA from me for every semester.

:/

Yeah, that's about right.