A drabble written for the most hated ship on Lewrah's forum. I present to you my first ever Voldemort/Harry and I feel a little odd writing it.
The Boy Who Lived was finally in the Dark Lord's possession, but strangely it was not enough. He was in agony, with rivers of blood that seeped down his body, but there was still defiance in those bright green eyes. It could not be allowed! A thought roared into his mind, something that he had never considered before.
He strode forward, and as Potter's eyes widened Voldemort pressed his own thin lips against his. As he ripped the shredded and bloodied robes from the boy's body, and took him up against the wall Voldemort understood what true power was.