'Dislike is too mild of a word to describe what I feel towards Albus Dumbledore... pure, abject loathing is much more appropriate. But that's three words, and too long, so hate it is.'
CHOICES
-a Harry Potter fan-fiction-
VOLDEMORT/HARRY
Albus Dumbledore has plans for Harry Potter... but Voldemort, the Fates and Harry Potter have a plan of their own.
There MAY or MAY NOT be actual, proper rude-bits.
You may recognize these scenes...
EDITED to incorporate Bloody Fox's challenge!
And hey, ho. An actual STORY now- albeit fragmented, but still. Enjoy. And if you're wondering, all the other bits have been moved to a separate story on my FFNET account (called PENSIEVE. You've heard of it.) A big THANK YOU to all those who have favorite-alerted any-all of my stories! Remember, I've got four new one shots (HPLV/TMR!) up on account! They're called BEFORE I FALL, ANGELS AND DEMONS, NO LOVE LOST and FOR THE GREATER GOOD. All with my-our favorite pairing! ;) If there's no pagebreaks, blame my computer! It's stuffing up, and I can't even update my profile!
18th FEBRUARY 2011
22nd FEBRUARY 2011
15th MARCH 2011
21st APRIL 2011
{and so the web is woven…}
Tom Marvolo Riddle, AKA Lord Voldemort, had a plan.
And as far as plans went, it was a pretty good plan.
However, Dark Lord did not do pretty good plans, and seeing as his first plan had been fucked so royally up the arse, he'd have to call for back-up.
And back-up came in the size, shape and form of Harry James Potter. After all, who said Dark Lords didn't have back-up plans?
He had a whole array of them, A-Z, spanning several years and detailing numerous different outcomes. And all of those plans led up to the Big One; the Master Plan. The product of many, many years of hard work. And he was about to reveal all to Harry Potter.
He needed yet another plan, quick. The backlash from his so called 'plans' was going to be catastrophic. He was sure that the Fates were not pleased by his decisions, even more so bringing Harry Potter into the fold.
But seeing as they hadn't interfered yet... (oh yes, they'd had many chances to.)
Meh. They'd probably already forgotten about it.
Hopefully, everything would be just golden and peachy the next time he'd see them. Which, he realized, would be alarmingly soon.
And as Luck would have it- (he'd always been Her favourite, must be his good looks)- he would get off scot-free. Then he and Harry would encact his back-up plan, venturing into the Unknown, the latter blissfully unaware of the trials and tribulations to come.
And-oh bugger it! He was late!
-X-
"Merlin!" Harry exclaimed, voice cracking slightly from the strain put on it. "By Morgana! By Circe! This is big! Big! How can you not try and-and-"
Voldemort's lips thinned as Harry's legs buckled beneath him, head falling forward limply and fringe casting shadows on his pale features.
"Oh my." Voldemort noted dryly "he's fainted. I knew he was a lightweight. Bet the boy can't hold his liquor either..." The last bit was mumbled a tad incoherently as the Dark Lord hoisted Harry into his arms, carrying him bridal style, before twirling and disapparating on the spot with a faint 'crack!'
-X-
"Look, look- listen to me Voldemort-"
"Call me Tom," the newly renamed 'Tom' interjected cheerfully. Harry cast the man a suspicious look; he was being awfully chipper for someone in his situation.
"Right, Tom," the wizard twitched "just because I'm against Dumbledore now does not mean that I'm strictly with you. I mean, thanks for the heads-up and everything, but I'll be going my way and you'll go yours and hopefully there'll be away to resolve this conflict peacefully-"
"Oh, there is a way," Tom spoke ominously, before the expression cleared and he smiled brightly "but it involves your...ah, participation."
"Well, I'm listening."
-X-
Harry knew that the Dark Lord was callous, cold, cruel and merciless, but at least he was upfront about it. He had no reservations in the 'torture first, ask questions later' attitude that he famously known for, and yes, he tortured and killed mercilessly, but he was marvelous in ways no mortal would ever- could ever understand.
Except for Harry. Harry was the exception.
They shared a connection, a bond.
They had been through tough times together, and would cross this new divide together, hand in hand, ready for a future, a past they never had a chance to experience.
-X-
"What a-what a- "
"Manipulative old coot? Yes, I know. Both you and I have been severely fucked over by the old bastard. It's too late for me now, so I'll have to entrust you with the knowledge to defeat him."
"I- YOU- Wha-?-"
Voldemort sighed, and ran a hand over his wand.
"I'm sorry Harry, but I'll have to involve you in a seriously complicated ritual fraught with peril in order to shift universes."
"Nnngh?"
"It means that you'll get a second chance in an alternate dimension to break free of Dumbledore's machinations without fucking up the time-space continuum. Of course, I'll be along with you for the ride. This universe is doomed anyways. Who cares? Certainly not me!"
"Oh, so yeah-"
"But there's also the chance that the Fates might be angry with me for destroying yet another universe and attempting to access another one. But you shouldn't have any problems dealing with them. It's only your first offense, after all, unlike me."
"You mean to say that you've done this already?"
"Twice, in fact. Now, onto the ritual!"
X-X
After three failed tries, an angry demon summoning, ten sacrificed llamas (don't ask) and a mysterious infestation of Doxies, they were finally ready to roll.
But the moment they felt something shift, a great, deep booming voice came from above.
"Quick! You distract them with your Bambi eyes while I scarper."
"Bambi eyes... wha-? No! Come back here you-!"
"HARRY JAMES POTTER!"
"Er...yes. That'd be me."
"YOU DARE ENTER THE REALM OF UNKNOWN?"
"Um...wah? -Ouch!" Voldemort jabbed an elbow in Harry's ribs and proceeded to give a nervous chuckle and spout forth his usual song of fancy words in order to appease the fuming deity. Antagonizing it wouldn't do any good to his- er, his and Harry's plans for vengeance.
"Sorry about that. Heh heh. You see-"
"TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE!"
Voldemort grimaced at his much despised common, Muggle name. "That would be me. You called?"
It seemed like the- the voice only grew louder in rage.
"DARE YOU CROSS THE REALMS ONCE MORE? BEGONE!"
"Well, you see Lord Fate, there's a delicate situation occurring that requires the assistance of my Equal to right the wrongs dealt to us by the hand of one Albus Dumbledore."
"ALBUS DUMBLEDORE?"
The voice seemed to be judging their motives, but with an incoherent grumble it lifted the oppressing force pushing down on them. It seemed like it was granting them permission to travel dimensions.
"YOU MUST BRING JUDGEMENT TO ALBUS DUMBLEDORE. THAT ONE HAS BEEN CAUSING TROUBLE FOR LORD KRONOS, LADY LUCK AND I FOR A LONG WHILE. IT IS TIME HE SAW THE ERROR OF HIS WAYS. VERY WELL, PART WITH OUR CONSENT, YOUNGLING, AND EITHER SET DUMBLEDORE ON THE RIGHT PATH OR OBLITERATE HIM COMPLETELY."
"You are ever merciful, Lord Kronos. Trust Harry and I, we shall certainly bring 'judgment'-" Harry snickered at tone Voldemort had used when enunciating that word "-to Albus Dumbledore. Merry meet, merry part once again."
"YOU HAVE LADY LUCK'S BLESSING, YOUNGLING. USE IT WISELY."
And with a flare of energy the both of them disappeared from the Realm of Prosperity... their surroundings crumbling into nothingness and leaving only a vast, black nothingness.
X-X
Voldemort woke up groggy.
He groaned, and then all the memories came back to him. He felt the urge to cackle, and indulged in it. No one was around to see him, after all.
"I made it! Ha! Suck it Dumbledore!"
However, mid-cackle, he noticed his surroundings... and the state of his body.
"... Fuck. I'm a ghost again. Anyways, NAGINI!"
"Yess masster..."
"Hmm... so Nagini has been made into a Horcrux, interesting..."
Maybe there were other discrepancies in this universe…
Oh well, time to go out possessing!
X-X
Harry Potter woke up feeling sore.
He mumbled incoherently, then bolted upright as the influx of memories assaulted his psyche...and smashed his head on the ceiling.
"Ow, ow, shit!"
Making sure to keep his voice low he observed his surroundings, and noticed that he was in his childhood cupboard-underneath-the-stairs with only spiders as his company. Lovely.
It was time for Harry to coerce Vernon Dursley into getting his own room. Hopefully, this time he wouldn't get expelled. Or beaten to death.
Oh, how much fun he would have fucking with their minds…
X-X
Dumbledore felt the most horrible sense of foreboding that night, as he was preparing for bed, woolly socks in hand.
'Could it be... no, impossible!'
The Powers That Be had finally interfered. If only Dumbledore knew the ramifications of his actions...
And oh shit, you could practically hear the italics.
-X-
Harry Potter was no dimwit.
Contrary to what the Dursleys told him- shouted at him each day without fail-, Harry Potter was in fact a very intelligent boy, but he more oft then not to avoid showcasing it. Doing so would only end badly in most cases; a sound beating at the hands of either his uncle or cousin, a starvation and isolation period and various proclamations of 'So you think that you're better than my Diddykins, freak!'
Harry knew how to keep his head down, his voice low and his presence virtually un-noticeable.
So, when confronted by so many of his own 'freakish kind' thanking him and acknowledging him for something he had absolutely no control of was very odd. And unexpected. And weird.
Not that he was ungrateful, no, but he had no idea why every single book he'd picked up so far in Flourish and Blott's had proclaimed him to be the savior of the entire freakin' Wizarding World over something he suspected his mother to be a part of. After all, it wasn't him who threw themselves in front of Harry to save him from the killing curse, it was his mother.
She had made a genuine life-for-life sacrifice, exchanging her life for his own in order for a lifelong blood protection against the Dark Lord! Now if only the general public weren't so bigoted as to not draw attention to the fact that it was Lily Evans' sacrifice that had made it possible for the Dark Lord's defeat but nooo, they simply couldn't acknowledge the fact that a mud-blood had saved the Wizarding World.
And so Harry ploughed on, welcoming fervent hand-shakes and exclamations of 'it's Harry Potter!' in exchange for a kind smile and a muttered 'thank-you sir/ma'am'. He was pleasant and caring and masked his grimaces very well.
Were all of these so-called Wizards and Witches absolute idiots? And he thought Muggles were bad. Well they were, but at least Muggles didn't believe every single little lie the government-sorry, Ministry told them.
He knew that Voldemort- sorry, the Dark Lord was not dead. He had never been vanquished. He was simply... lying in wait somewhere as a formless wraith, watching, waiting for the right moment to possess another body and strike back.
But hopefully not against Harry, for they both knew that Albus Dumbledore was their common enemy. Albus Dumbledore had totally and utterly fucked up both of their lives and Albus Dumbledore would die at the hands of both of them.
Albus Dumbledore would die, not them. It was Harry's plan, to join forces with Voldemort and reshape the Wizarding World, as they were more powerful working together for a common goal than working against each other, fueled by Dumbledore's fake prophecy.
Harry knew the real prophecy now, the one that claimed that Harry and Voldemort, once united, would trump forces set against the 'rebirth' of the Wizarding World. Those 'forces' happened to be the Ministry buffoons and Dumbledore.
Oh, the joys of dimension-hopping.
He had to rendezvous with Voldemort. Fast.
-X-
"Mother, do you mean to say that Harry James Potter AKA the supposed 'Savior' of the Wizarding World AKA The-Boy-Who-Just-Wouldn't-Die is my bloody cousin? That I'm bloody related to him?"
"Language, Draco." Narcissa spoke sternly. "And yes, he is your cousin, and mine. You see, Great-Aunt Dorea married Charlus Potter, the grandparents of Harry Potter, and making him, by extension, my second cousin once-removed. And right now, he's living with those horrible Muggles. And no, I'm not just calling them they because they are Muggles, dear, I'm saying that because they are truly horrible creatures. They beat him, starved him, abused him and they locked him underneath the stairs in a boot cupboard! Simply barbaric, I tell you!"
Draco seemed astounded that all this had happed to Harry bloody Potter! Sure, he did look a bit peaky and malnourished, but he'd thought that Harry Potter had the luxe life. It turns out that everything he thought was the exact opposite.
No wonder why he'd looked so affronted when Draco had acted like that in Madam Malkins! Draco guessed that he must have acted somewhat like Harry Potter's horrible, spoilt whale of a cousin.
Narcissa, on the other hand, was plotting the ways to get Harry from underneath Dumbledore's thumb. She had to somehow twist it so that Harry could clearly see Dumbledore's manipulations. Only, she didn't know that Harry had plans of his own…
'But time is running out,' Narcissa thought frantically 'Hogwarts will commence in a few days time.'
She'd have to convince Lucius to get involved. Fast. Hopefully, that wouldn't take long. All it would take is some creative thinking…
-X-
"I'm Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. It would do you good to make some...worthwhile friends while you're at it."
Harry raised a single eyebrow, a trick he'd learnt from Voldemort, and then gave Draco a very thorough once-over. From the tips of his slicked-back platinum blond hair, to his Acromantula silk robes and then down to his custom-made high-quality dragon-hide boots. Harry nodded approvingly to himself then shifted over his belongings, making room for Draco and only Draco.
"Malfoy, could you get your cronies to move compartments? I must say, it would get quite crowded in here if they were to stay." Draco's eyes glinted with a flash of amusement, and he soon sent Crabbe and Goyle away to a nearby compartment, with explicit instructions pertaining to their behavior.
"So, Malfoy. What's brings you to my humble compartment?"
"Don't play games, Potter. I know what you want, and I can get it for you."
Draco settled back into his seat from across Harry with a cold smirk. "Oh, so you could really restore the Dark Lord to his former body? Are you sure?"
-X-
"Slytherins are known for their cunning and ambitiousness, not bad traits for one to possess. Not all Slytherins become Dark Wizards. Just remember that for future reference, Potter. Remember it well. Making allies and forming connections should be on the top of your list for a while, along with excelling in academia. No Slytherin worth their salt simply flunks out. Well, unless you're Crabbe or Goyle." Draco finished with a flourish, and both of them snickered at the last statement.
It was somewhat amazing that the two dunderheads had managed to land themselves in Slytherin in the first place. It was nothing short of a miracle; because as sure as Albus Dumbledore's lemon drops were laced with Veritaserum, Crabbe and Goyle Senior would have Crucio'd the lot of 'em if they hadn't.
-X-
"I mean hell, the whole Prophecy is a load of cock-and-bull invented by Dumbledore with Trelawney under the Imperius the whole time! Come on, think about it! Who the hell actually conducts a job interview in the Hog's Head? Not to mention the fact that its owner is actually Aberforth bloody Dumbledore!
"What are the odds, eh? Not to mention Snape happens to be conveniently spying nearby and catches a few lines of the so-called Prophecy, gets outed and then scarpers off to his Master to tell him that a child will be born who has the power to 'vanquish' him? Use your brain, Draco! It was a fake! The Prophecy was a fake! Instead, there was another Prophecy that told of me and Voldie joining forced to reform the Wizarding World and the corrupt Ministry! But obviously Dumbledore couldn't have that of course, because he always has to be in control! Him!
"Master manipulator Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore! Bloody hell, at least when you join up with the Dark Lord Voldemort, you know exactly what you're initiating yourself into! Those 'Order of the Phoenix' fools have no idea what they've gotten themselves into! I bet they'll be forced to swear Unbreakable Vows."
"You can't force someone into making an Unbreakable Vow, idiot!" Draco exclaimed indignantly.
"Well then you tell me how Dumbledore managed to get Snape to do it!"
"WHAT? That crackpot old fool forced-"
"It's true, yeah. Forced Veritaserum down his throat myself."
"You what? And to Snape of all people?"
"Don't worry, I Obliviated him when I was done."
"YOU WHAT? Do you know how iffy that charm is? You have to be a certified professional to do it! If you weren't, then Death Eaters would be throwing that spell left and right!"
"It's okay, okay. No lasting damage."
"And you got away with it?"
"It's all good, Dray. I managed to get off scot-free!"
"Sometimes, Potter, I wonder if you have Felix Felicis running through your veins instead of blood."
"All part of the charm, Draco. All part of the charm."
'Oh... but if only you knew...' Harry cackled inwardly.
"You think I could bleed you dry and harvest it from you?" Draco asked wryly.
"Pfft. Not a chance. In any case, I think the Dark Lord'll get to me first. And if he doesn't, well, there's always Dumbledore."
"Too right mate, too right. That bastard would jump at the chance to harvest liquid luck. And seriously, how'd we get from Prophecies to Felix Felicis?"
"Haven't the foggiest. Well, time to plot against Dumbledore. Say, Draco?"
"Hmm?"
"Could you write to your Dad for me?"
"Oh, well then, what do you want me to write to Father then?"
-X-
"Well what do you think I should write? He's your father, Draco! You think I should just go up to Quirrell, whip that turban off and then start talking to the Voldie that's stuck to the back of his head? What should I say then? 'Oh, hello Voldemort. Just thought I'd drop by and offer my services in aiding with the demise of Albus Dumbledore. Now, about that "killing my parents thing..."'
"You're a right git, you know that? Give it here, he is my father and I know exactly what to write to him in a way that'll pique his interest."
Draco snatched the quill from Harry's hand, along with the parchment Harry was preparing to write on, charmed his quill with Everlasting Ink and began scribbling furiously.
Half an hour later, it was done, packaged and sent off with Harry's snow-white owl, Hedwig. Draco sat back with a contented smirk on his face. "Knowing my father, he'll probably reply back the day after he receives it. I'm interested in what he'll say. No doubt he'll be intrigued..."
Harry settled back with a contented smirk of his own. It was only time now... soon he would reveal himself to Quirrellmort, get Voldemort's spirit out of Quirrell and then they'd craft him a new body... a body worthy of a Dark Lord.
It would be truly spectacular... the look on Dumbledore's face when he lay there, broken and defeated, finally figuring out Harry's plan and his evident demise...
The smirk on Harry's face turned into a full-blown, very eerie smile. It sent shivers down Draco's spine. He definitely would not want to be the person Harry was plotting against right now...
X-X
Dumbledore felt a cold, cold shiver of foreboding down his spine, like someone was not only stepping, but dancing on his grave. Unbidden, a line of the real Prophecy came to mind.
'For neither can die while the other survives...'
His plans for Harry Potter would have to shift into overdrive, which meant that Quirrell had to attempt to steal the Stone sooner than he had anticipated. Dumbledore sighed and rubbed his temples.
Manipulating Harry Potter was a truly taxing job, he felt like he should get paid for doing it. Oh wait, he was getting paid.
Oh, the joys of being himself.
-X-
"You mean to say… that the mysterious divine force that propelled me into this dimension and stopped Voldemort from coming with me was actually The Powers That Be."
"Yup, uh-huh. Says it all here." Harry was handed a sky-blue pamphlet emblazoned with the title 'Why Your Equal Didn't Make It'.
"Okay, page three, paragraph four, bullet point number one.
'If your Equal failed to enter this universe you can automatically assume that small shard of their soul still holds the abilities and knowledge of your Equal in the other universe, however their Consciousness failed to be Imprinted on their counter-part. Please refer to page 13 for more information on Fixing the Imprinting.'
Harry quickly rifled through the pages until he reached page thirteen.
'Fixing the Imprinting. If your Equal's Consciousness failed to Imprint, then have no fear! All you need is Legilimency and close contact with your Equal. If one possesses those aspects then all one needs to do is, while initiating close contact with your Equal, (often through sexual intercourse), all one needs to do is to search deep within their Equal's mind until they reach the soul shard that holds the characteristics and knowledge. Then all one is required to do is to give the shard a mental "nudge". That shall awaken the knowledge from within.'
Harry was absolutely flabbergasted. How in Circe's name was he supposed to initiate CLOSE CONTACT with Lord bloody Voldemort? He was stuck in an eleven year olds' body! It would be pedophile, not to mention he was stuck in the back of Quirrell's head- (and ew, ew, ew that was a horrible mental image!)- and Voldemort was also out for Harry's lifeblood! Literally!
How the hell was he supposed to do it? Was it even worth it?
No, Harry needed both of them to take down Evil Lord Dumbles, and getting Voldemort a body wouldn't be that bad…
But it'd have to be a mighty attractive, spiffing, fit body for Harry in order to shag him. He wasn't shagging Voldemort's Snake Face incarnation! (No matter how talented they claimed his tongue - [a snake-like, forked tongue! Think of the possibilities! His Inner Perve claimed] - was and how he was a stallion in the sack! How Lucius Malfoy knew that, Harry would never know.)
Tom Riddle wouldn't be so bad… not bad at all. That insanely attractive teen that had come out of the diary and possessed Ginny aged to perfection... Harry almost drooled. No wonder why so many Death Eaters had followed Voldemort with an overzealous gusto the first time around. That Bellatrix Lestrange must've been involved with some pretty kinky shit… what a sadist.
So no. Harry would have to get Voldemort's original body back. That gorgeous man. So hmm… blood rituals it'd be, he'd have to research the ritual that had brought Voldemort back in the first place... not to mention brewing a nutrition and restorative potion to fix the years of Dursley damage and Veritaserum (hey, you never know when it comes in handy!).
Now there was only the minor problem of having to unstick Voldemort's soul from the back of Quirrell's head. Maybe he could corner Quirrell in a dark alcove and offer his services to the Dark Lord? Hmm, no. Too obvious. Not to mention Quirrell would run screaming if anyone cornered him, not just Harry.
So he had to go for the subtle approach. Espionage. Spying. Gathering data. James Bond-esque escapades (so sue him, he'd once watched a James Bond-athon on TV once! He was bored!). 007.
'I'm Potter. Harry Potter.' Hmm, maybe that's where Draco got his welcoming line from, a James Bond movie. He wouldn't put it past the little bugger.
It was time to scheme.
"DRACO!"
-X-
That Ministry bint- what was her name again? Ah yes, Bertha Jorkins- was easy to manipulate and ripe for the picking. Instead of Quirrell now Bertha had come instead.
This time around, he had no hesitations and possessing her straight away, the moment she stumbled across him in bewilderment. All it took was a few seconds and then he was alive.
He was free!
Albeit, this body was a little hard to control and moved stiffly, but he quickly dominated the body and silenced her weak attempts to protest. He was, to use a Muggle saying, in the driver's seat now. He gained control and smoothed over the inconsistencies, training this new body in the dueling arts and had no qualms in using Bertha Jorkins' Ministry-issued portkey and the soonest possible moment, after weeks of training in the proper way to walk, talk and function as the normal, everyday Bertha Jorkins would.'\
First, he needed to find out exactly what was different in this dimension, whether the Minister of Magic was the same, his hopefully faithful Death Eaters, Wormtail -Pettigrew! By Circe he really needed his yew wand back-, Barty Crouch Jnr. and Lucius Malfoy.
Secondly, he needed his body back. In any case the brat would useful for that, with both his Bertha Jorkins' knowledge in blood rituals- (surprisingly, the wretch knew her Dark rituals)- and then they would get his young, handsome, (yes, he was a very narcissistic Dark Lord), youthful body back. What a thrill it would be!
Thirdly, perhaps then, he would take a crack on the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Surely, the crackpot old fool wouldn't hire Quirrell again this time?
Voldemort would have to either get one of his men to infiltrate Hogwarts, or he could do it himself. If you want something done good then do it yourself. By Circe, wasn't he quoting a lot of Muggle idioms these days?
-X-
"I don't want any of you, I repeat ANY of you two trying to interfere with Dumbledore, do you understand? This stage in the plan is vital to its success, and I won't have either of you messing up the Dark Lord's meticulously planned strategies! Failure is not an option; I guess you, Potter, would know that better than anyone else in this room currently."
Snape turned to Harry with a disdainful sneer and Harry bristled in anger. 'It was all due to me,' Harry thought furiously whilst Snape eyed Harry with dislike, 'that the bloody git had even been forgiven, of course mercifully, by Tom! The prat better understand that he now owes a Life Debt to me!' Tom was about ready to eviscerate Snape when he came crawling back, after Tom had been restored into a new body. It was only due to Harry's efforts that Snape had been spared.
"Well?" Snape inquired tersely, raising an eyebrow.
'That greasy-haired tosser!'
"Get on with it."
Oh, how Harry felt like cursing Snivellus so badly- but it would have to wait. First Tom and Harry had to get their arses into gear and their plans into action.
It was time to start plotting to assassinate Albus Dumbledore.
'No remorse, no mercy. Oh, this will be very fun.' Harry cackled inwardly. Snape and Draco only eyed him with different degrees of amusement. Draco had good idea of what Harry was thinking of and sighed, 'well, at least this year will be sufficiently entertaining.
-X-
"Well I, for one cannot believe that Flitwick's animagus is a bloody goat!" Draco snorted. "I bet I'll have some awesome animal, like a dragon or a cobra- ooh maybe even a basilisk!" Harry choked on his tea, muffling his snickers.
"What?" Draco looked offended. "Don't you believe that I have the potential for so much awesomeness and evil?"
"You're full of shit, okay. I, for one, believe that your animagus is probably going to be something furry and rodent-like, like a ferret. Or a something equally pest-like. There's a good chance that my animagus will be a bloody snake or something slither-y. Imagine the look on Dumbledore's face! A basilisk! Gasp!"
"Pfft, his animagus in probably a phoenix. Whereas, the Dark Lord's animagus would be a viper, something poisonous! A menace to society!"
-X-
"Why are you so- so interested in him all of a sudden?" Draco's face was brightly flushed and his words angry and indignant.
Harry smirked wickedly at the pretty picture Draco made. Oh, this was precious. So ickle Draco had been caught by the little green monster, eh?
"Green is not becoming on you, Draco dear. I would prefer pink, or red. Draco blushed even brighter at the insinuation Harry had made. "I'm not- you dare?" Draco floundered for words.
-X-
Draco still looked weirded out by Harry's confession. He blinked once, twice, then gaped.
"You..." Draco started "you're the type of person to have 'property of Voldemort' tramp-stamped on your arse, aren't you?"
Harry grinned nefariously. "You're right about that, Dray. Just a small warning for you now, the Dark Lord can get very possessive sometimes. So watch your back."
Draco blanched.
-X-
"...before you start handing out hexes and curses-(no doubt you know some nasty ones)-like candy to a three-year-old. Not that you're the candy-handing-out type per se but anyways..."
"Hmm?" Voldemort raised an eyebrow and gazed at him inquisitively.
"Okay," Harry drew in a deep breath "promise me."
"Alright, alright." Voldemort grumbled. "I promise." He groused out, acting much like a petulant child. The edges of Harry's mouth threatened to twitch up in a smirk. No matter if Voldemort promised not to hex Harry, if he saw Harry smirking at his complaining then no amount of over-powered shield charms would suffice.
-X-
"So..." Harry spoke slowly, carefully, casting a suspicious look at Voldemort. "How do I know that you won't go barmy and, I dunno, go off on a murderous rampage, offing a third of the school's population (who happen to, conveniently, be Muggleborn) via Basil the Basilisk and pin all the blame on me, leaving me to the tender mercies of Dumbledore and laughing maniacally, building up your army of death and-"
Harry cut off his mini-rant when graced by a condescending smirk from Voldemort and a raised eyebrow. Voldemort gazed unfailingly at Harry, daring him to go on.
"Okay, okay." Harry tried to placate Voldemort. "Evil Dark Lord and all that, I get it, yup. But...can I trust you?"
"..."
"Alright, yes. My life in your hands, travelling to another dimension, etc etc. Shut up."
Voldemort gave the smallest of nods to Harry, acknowledging yet another triumph in the ever present 'battle-of-words' between them both and Harry huffed, storming off and the slamming the door childishly, resulting in the Sword of Godric Gryffindor that had been mounting on the wall to wobble precariously.
'He'll never change, will he?'
{and so the web is woven…}