Lord and Savior
🌟-I got you babes, (For the rest of you send me requests!)
Harry Potter x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Low-key Reader being a Dick rider, Use of the Dark Lords name, Them both being little shits tbh, Smut (You're welcome), Brief editing (Really just skimming through), Angst for fun
I low-key want to try out pink fronting- (If you know you know, give me a request if that's something you want), A little fun fact about myself I hate Harry Potter as a person.
The Room of Requirement, a place where one could find anything they needed, had never been so unyielding. Its doors, once so accommodating, now refused to budge despite Harry and Y/n's every attempt. Trapped within its confines, the two enemies found themselves in a most unusual situation. They hated each other with a loathing passion; their rivalry spanning back years, fueled by jealousy and resentment, mostly because Harry found out that she was Draco Malfoys' cousin and that she was a death eater.
First, they kept themselves on opposite sides of the room not acknowledging each other's presence. Y/n had found herself perched on a throne of books she had made in the first three hours they were there, a vain attempt at feeling important and in control. Harry, on the other hand, had been pacing the room, running his fingers through his untidy hair over and over, coursing all of his decisions that led him up to right now.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, they both spoke at the same time. "Do you want to play a game?" Y/n asked, her voice cold and emotionless. She knew she was better at games, it was one of the only things she was better at than him. He nodded, not trusting himself to speak just yet. "Alright, let's play twenty questions."
They both thought about it for a moment. Twenty questions was a game they had both played before, a game where one person thought of something and the other person had to guess what it was by asking a total of twenty questions. It was a simple game, but they both knew it could get complicated, especially when they were both as good at it as they were.
"Fine," Harry said, his voice slightly less strained than before. He cleared his throat and took a deep breath. "Alright, I'll go first. Is it a person, place, or thing?"
Y/n smiled slightly, feeling a small thrill of anticipation. "It's a person." She answered, trying to keep her expression neutral.
Harry nodded, already forming a question in his mind. "Right, and are they living or dead?"
Y/n considered her answer for a moment before deciding. "Living."
Harry thought for a moment longer, his mind racing through a list of potential people they knew. "Is this person famous?"
Y/n hesitated. "Yes, they are quite famous."
Harry thought some more, narrowing down the list of possibilities in his mind. "Are they an actor or actress?"
Y/n smiled, feeling slightly triumphant. "No, they're not in the entertainment industry."
Harry's brow furrowed in concentration. "Are they a politician?"
Y/n's smile faded slightly. "Yes, they are."
Harry thought for a moment longer, trying to place the name. "Is this person from Britain, or from another country?"
Y/n thought about it for a moment. "They're from Britain."
Harry's eyes widened slightly as he finally figured it out. "Is it…is it Dumbledore?" he asked, almost afraid to say the name aloud.
Y/n's eyes narrowed in annoyance. "No, it isn't Dumbledore," she replied, her voice slightly sharper than she intended. "It's Voldemort." There was a pregnant pause as the words hung in the air between them. Harry looked at her, surprised by her answer. He hadn't expected her to say that. "But… why did you choose Voldemort?" he asked, unable to hide the confusion in his voice.
"He's our Lord and savior" She muses adjusting her sleeve to her green robes, Harry shot her a withering glare. "He is the one that will make the world great again" She continued, Harry snorted at that remark. "He's done so much for us, he's given us purpose, a reason to live, to fight, to be better than everyone else." She paused, taking a deep breath, her voice softening. "Filthy Mudbloods"
Harry rolled his eyes, finding her defense of Voldemort to be ironic, to say the least. "And all those people he's killed? The ones that were innocent?" He asked, anger and disgust seething beneath his calm exterior.
Y/n shrugged. "They were just casualties of war," she replied, her voice cold. "And they died for a greater cause. They died so that we could have a world free of muggles, free of those who Think they deserve a place in our world" She paused, her expression softening slightly. "Don't you see? Voldemort isn't just our leader, he's our hero. He's the one that's going to make the world a better place."
Harry felt a surge of anger course through him at her words. "You're deluded, you know that?" He spat. "He's a monster, and if you can't see that, then maybe you're just as bad as he is."
Y/n's face flushed with anger, her green eyes narrowing. "And what about you, Harry?" She hissed. "You're just a pathetic little tool. Defeated him once and think you're a big shot? You're nothing but a waste of space." She leaned in closer, her voice dripping with venom. "You're just like everyone else. Afraid of change, afraid of the future. Well, I'm not. I believe in Voldemort, and I'm willing to fight for what's right."
Harry felt a mixture of anger and pity for her. "You're just blind, Y/n," he said, his voice gentle despite the harsh words. "You don't know what he's really like. You don't know what he's capable of. You don't know the things he's done."
"Oh, and you do?" she snorted derisively. "You think you're so much better than him? You've done nothing but run away your whole life. You're just as much of a coward as everyone says you are."
Harry felt a flash of pain at her words, but he refused to let it show. "At least I've never killed innocent people," he retorted. "And I'll keep running away until I find a way to stop him."
Y/n laughed, the sound cold and mocking. "You'll never stop him," she said. "You'll never beat him. You're nothing but a pathetic loser, just like Dumbledore." She turned her back on him, walking away with her head held high. "Let everyone else deal with the issue so you don't have to," she added, her voice barely more than a whisper.
Harry felt a mixture of anger and hurt as he watched her leave. He knew she was wrong, but her words still stung. He knew he couldn't change her mind, not about Voldemort, not about anything. He sighed heavily, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. He knew he had to keep fighting, had to find a way to stop Voldemort before it was too late.
For the next hour Y/n had occupied herself by carving things with her knife, she was quite good at it, she'd had plenty of practice. She had always been good with her hands, something she had in common with Voldemort. The dark lord appreciated that about her. She didn't know what it was about the other Death Eaters, but she had always felt like she was different. Maybe it was because she had been raised by pure bloods, maybe it was because she had been trained by Voldemort himself. Whatever the reason, she knew she was special.
She paused for a moment, glancing over at Harry, who was still sitting on the ground, looking defeated. She sighed softly. He really was pathetic. He was weak, and he would never understand the power and the glory of Voldemort. It was a shame, really. If only he could see the truth, maybe he wouldn't be such a burden on the rest of them.
But she knew better. Harry Potter would always be a thorn in their side, a constant reminder of the world they were fighting to create. And so, she continued carving her knife, sharpening it, preparing for the battles to come. Because she knew that one day, they would win. They would defeat Harry Potter, and they would have a world free of muggles and mudbloods. A world where pure bloods ruled, where the strong survived and the weak perished.
Harry, on the other hand, remained lost in his own thoughts. He couldn't understand how Y/n could possibly support Voldemort. He knew how evil the dark lord was, how many innocent people he had killed. But Y/n, she seemed different. She seemed to have some sort of connection with him that Harry couldn't understand. He wondered if it was because she was raised by pure bloods, or if it was because she had been trained by Voldemort himself. Whatever the reason, he knew that she was dangerous.
"Harry," she purred, "I'm bored come play with me" her voice echoed around the room that was filled with clutter and dust. "Come find me" Harry could practically hear the smirk in her voice as she spoke. He knew that she was dangerous, and he knew that he shouldn't go near her, but he couldn't help but feel drawn to her.
She was beautiful, in a dark and twisted way. Her long, flowing hair framed her pale face perfectly, and her cold, eyes seemed to glow in the dim light her body was toned and athletic. Even though he knew better, he couldn't help but be attracted to her.
Harry slowly rose to his feet, feeling a mixture of fear and curiosity coursing through his veins. He took a tentative step forward, his eyes never leaving hers. "Y/n…" he whispered.
She smiled, revealing her sharp, pointed teeth. "I've been waiting for you, Harry," she purred, taking a step closer. "I knew you'd come." She reached out and ran a long, slender finger down his cheek, sending a shiver down his spine. "You're so much stronger than you think you are," she murmured, her voice low and hypnotic. "And I know we can be so much more together."
Harry swallowed hard, feeling her touch sending waves of desire coursing through his veins. He knew he shouldn't give in to her, but it was as if he had no control over his own body. He found himself stepping even closer, feeling the heat emanating from her like a living flame.
"You're right," he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire. He closed the distance between them, his hands reaching out to touch her face, to feel her skin beneath his fingers.
She moaned softly, arching into his touch, her hips pressing against his. "Harry," she breathed, her eyes fluttering shut. "You have no idea how much I've wanted this." Her lips parted, inviting him in, and he couldn't resist any longer. He leaned forward, cradling her face in his hands, and kissed her.
Her lips were as soft as he imagined, but there was a fierceness to her kiss that took him by surprise. She tasted like blood and desire, her tongue dancing with his, urging him on. He wrapped his arms around her, feeling the strength in her body as she held him just as tightly, their hips grinding together in a smooth rhythm.
"You've got to wake up Harry" her voice hummed wrapping around his brain, "Harry wake up!" His eyes flew open and met the pair standing over him. "Harry?"
He blinked and shook his head, "Wh-what happened?" He asked, confused.
"You fell asleep dipshit," She crosses her arms and huffs, "I was just going to ignore you but you said my name and caught my attention." She gives a sly grin, "Must've been a good dream then" Her friend chuckles next to her.
Harry blushes, feeling embarrassed. "Yeah, uh… sorry about that," he mutters, trying to collect himself. He glances over at Y/n, feeling a strange mixture of shame and desire welling up inside him. She watches him with those cold, calculating eyes, and he can't help but wonder what she's thinking.
"It's fine, Potter," she says, her voice neutral. "But if you're going to sleep and call out for me again, I'll make sure you regret it." She leans in closer, her breath tickling his ear. "Trust me, I'll take a knife and shove it in your throat" For emphases she takes hers and holds It to his throat. "And then I'll drink your blood while you watch." Her words send a shiver down his spine, and he can't help but feel a strange mix of fear and arousal at her threat.
He licks his lips and nods a little, still feeling the weight of her words. "I won't give you the chance," he manages to say, his voice barely audible. There's a long moment where they stare at each other, the air thick with tension and hidden desires. Finally, she pulls back, a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth.
"Good boy," she says, her words going straight to his dick, sounding almost too pleased. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to look for shit I can take" With that, she turns on her heel and walks away, giving him one last look over her shoulder before they disappear into the crowd.
Harry was still very turned on by the time she came back with her loot and a crown sitting on her head like it was made for her, she took notice of it right away. She gave him a wink as she sat down next to him and began to unravel it, letting the gold chain slip through her fingers. "Look at this, Potter. Found it in the back."
He swallowed hard, trying to keep his composure as he looked at her. She seemed so confident, so in control. It was almost intoxicating. "That looks nice on you," he managed to say, his voice still shaky. "Very regal."
She grinned, showing off her fangs. "I know, right? It's like it was made for me." She leaned in closer, her breath tickling his ear. "I could make you feel like you were my king, Potter. If you wanted." Her hand reached out, tracing a finger down his cheek before coming to rest on his shoulder. "I could make you feel things you've never felt before."
Harry shuddered at her touch, his body responding to her words. He wanted to believe her, wanted to feel what she was offering. But a part of him knew that this was dangerous territory. "I'm not sure if that's such a good idea," he whispered, his voice barely audible.
Her grip on his shoulder tightened. "Oh, but I think it is," she purred. "I can see it in your eyes, Potter. You want this as much as I do." Her other hand came up, cupping his cheek, her thumb brushing across his bottom lip. "And I can make you forget everything else, everyone else."
He closed his eyes, unable to resist her. Her words were like a drug, clouding his thoughts and making him want to believe that she could give him what he needed. He opened his mouth, allowing her thumb to stroke across his lips, and then, before he could think twice, he leaned forward and kissed her.
Her lips were as soft as he imagined, but there was a fierceness to her kiss that took him by surprise. She tasted like blood and desire, her tongue dancing with his, urging him on. He wrapped his arms around her, feeling the strength in her body as she held him just as tightly, their hips grinding together in a smooth rhythm. He moaned into her mouth, unable to believe how good this felt, how much he wanted more.
She pulled away for a moment, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she looked down at him. Her eyes were wide with desire, and her fangs were bared, glistening in the dim light. "You're perfect," she whispered, her voice husky. "I've waited so long for this." Then she was kissing him again, her lips moving over his face, tracing a path down his neck and collarbone.
He arched his back, groaning as her teeth scraped against his skin. "Please," he managed to say, his voice barely audible. "I want you." She smiled against his skin, her breath hot against his flesh. "Don't worry, Potter. I'll take care of you." And then she was undoing his pants, her cool fingers wrapping around his aching erection.
She stroked him expertly, her other hand moving up to past his shirt, teasing a nipple through his shirt. He felt himself growing more and more out of control, the pleasure coursing through his veins. He couldn't believe how good this felt, how right. He wanted to lose himself in her touch, in her kiss.
When she finally pushed him back, straddling him, he knew that this was it. He was hers, and he didn't want it any other way. She leaned forward, her breasts pressing against his chest, and lowered her mouth to his neck once more. He arched his back, moaning as she teased him with her teeth and tongue. Her hips began to move, slowly at first, and then with increasing urgency. He could feel her wetness against his skin, and the sensation was almost unbearable.
She looked down at him, her eyes hooded and dark. "You're mine now," she growled, her voice rough with desire. "Say it."
He looked up at her, his eyes cloudy with lust. "I'm yours," he managed to croak. "Do with me what you will."
She smiled, her fangs gleaming in the dim light. Then she leaned forward, biting at his neck. At the same time, her hips began to move faster, her body undulating against his. He felt the familiar tugging sensation deep inside him as she guided him closer and closer to the edge.
He gripped her hips, his nails digging into her skin, desperate for release. The pleasure was building inside him, tightening his stomach, making it hard to breathe. "Please," he groaned. "I'm close."
She smiled up at him, her eyes dark with satisfaction. "That's it, Potter," she whispered, her voice husky. "Let go." And with those words, he felt himself spill inside her, his body shuddering with the force of the release. As the pleasure faded, he collapsed back against the pillows, his heart racing and his mind reeling. He looked up at her, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.
She leaned down, her lips brushing against his ear. "That was just the beginning," she whispered. "There's so much more we can do together." Her words sent a shiver down his spine, and he couldn't help but wonder what she meant. Was she talking about the physical pleasure they'd shared? Or was there something more?
Before he could open his mouth there was the sound of rubble hitting the ground grabbing both of their attention. The Room of Requirements doors had just opened. Y/n looks down at him, "Looks like it's time to go potter" She licks her lips,"Catch you later"
Y/n Sits at a table in a cold dark room, her hair pooling around her shoulders as she spins her wand around in her hand, the other petting the snake that's draped over her chair.
A call of her name brings her back, eyes snapping to meet dark ones, "What is Your situation with Mr. Potter?" His voice sounded like honey in her ears. Such a shame he became such a massive bitch, he was one of the pretty ones.
She blinked at him owlishly before she seemed to realize his question, "Oh," She glanced towards Draco, their eyes meeting for a split second before looking away. "I have him wrapped around my finger, beck 'n call if you will, My lord," She says with a sly smile.
"Good"
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