Disclaimer: I own nothing in the Harry Potter universe.
"dialogue"
"mental dialogue"
"parsel"
"mental parsel"
In a large grubby library a man was sat at a table laden with numerous books and papers. He was not reading or writing notes, but instead staring listlessly down at his hands. His green eyes continued to gaze unseeing before him, seemingly unaware of his surroundings and the pervasive silence of the house bearing down on him. Lost in quiet debate with himself he took no notice as the long minutes ticked by. Finally the slightest of sighs escaped him and he leaned back in his chair a faint look of wary determination crossing his face before settling once again into blankness. With a deep breath that ruffled a stray lock of raven hair he closed his eyes and mentally reached out to an all too familiar presence.
"Hello Tom. I have a proposal for you."
Anger flared at the uttering of that name and red eyes narrowed. Of course that boy was the only one who dared say such a thing in his presence. When he finally got his hands on the whelp the brat would regret his actions fully before he was finally killed. Before he even thought to stop himself he mentally lashed out.
"Brat! Do not use that name! I will make you suffer for such rudeness!"
"Fine, Voldemort then. Now are you going to hear my proposal or keep ranting like a toddler throwing a tantrum?"
The never ending impertinence of that brat! "I will skin you alive and have you watch as Nagini eats you one piece at a time!" Yes, that would be satisfying. To hear his screams as he watches his every finger, toe, hand and foot slowly devoured before him would be musical. Red eyes glazed slightly in gleeful contemplation of his enemies torture.
"The proposal Voldemort. Will you calm down long enough to hear it out? You can throw me to Nagini all you like afterwards."
At that Voldemort paused in his mental flaying of a certain green eyed nuisance. He wondered what the brat could possibly be up to this time and decided to humor him for the moment.
"Fine. What is this proposal you are harping on about?"
"An agreement, magically binding, between us to serve as a temporary cease fire."
He couldn't be serious. Voldemort had all but won by this point. Both Hogwarts and the ministry were nearly under his control and only the Boy Wonder himself and a few token resistance pockets remained to oppose him.
"For what reason would I ever agree to such a thing? You have lost boy. There is nothing left you can do to stop me."
"There is one thing. I have your horcruxes. All of them."
Fear lanced through him followed quickly by fury. Impossible, he couldn't have found one much less all of them. He obviously knew about them though and that he had made more than one. Something shattered behind him and he realized his magic had slipped his control again and reacted to his anger. Another point of growing frustration was the slow slippage of control over his magic, but the thought quickly passed blown away in the face of his rage.
The boy continued, "The diary, locket, cup, ring, diadem... when was the last time you saw Nagini Tom? You can't make more at this point. You're probably already fraying at the seams from running a body with too little soul. All those potent emotions I know you feel. Bouncing between extremes in uncontrollable whiplash. I can feel them through our connection so there is no denying it. I bet you are having trouble with you magic too. Can you afford to dismiss me?"
More shattering sounds. He heard a panicked cry and only vaguely recalled some of his death eaters being present when the boy contacted him. He paid them no attention instead focusing on the source of his current fury.
"What do you want?"
"As I said a temporary cease fire. Just long enough for us to hold an exchange without either of us being at risk. There are conditions of course. The first of which, and this is non-negotiable, is we will be piecing your soul back together."
His anger fizzled in the face of the absurdity of that statement. Piece his soul back together. The boy must have completely lost it in these past years he'd spent on the run. Even if he was willing to allow such a thing he wasn't capable of the remorse required to heal a soul. Yes, the boy had finally gone round the bend and lost all reason.
"You cannot be serious. I would not give up my anchors that keep me here even if I could feel the necessary remorse. Which I cannot."
"You do not need to. I have found another way to stitch you back together and we will be returning all, but the smallest fragment. So you will still have your anchor and you will likely find yourself with much more control over your mind and magic. I refuse to cooperate with a psychopathic madman and until you pull yourself back together you are little else. Even if you won't admit it you know I am right. Just look at yourself with your snake face and hair-trigger temper. How far you've fallen from that charismatic leader you started out as. It is no wonder that even your own death eaters cower from you."
He reluctantly conceded the brat had a point. These moments of semi-lucidity had been growing increasingly infrequent and his magic was certainly not what it used to be. No need to mention his appearance. Could he allow himself to only have one horcrux though? If something happened to it he would no longer have the backups to ensure his safety. It seemed like such a flimsy fail-safe and again a fission of fear raced up his spine at the mere thought of dying. Might as well hear what else the golden boy had to say. Perhaps he could glean his location during their conversation and forcefully take his horcruxes back.
"What else?"
"Pardon?"
"You implied multiple conditions. What are the others."
"Ah. Well the second being that I have a written reformation plan for the British wizarding society that you must go over and seriously consider. You cannot simply immediately dismiss it out of hand. You do not have to agree with it or even implement it, but you must give it proper thought and unbiased consideration. Actually, that's really all there is. Two things. Your soul so that you regain your rationality and hearing out my plan for our society."
That's what the boy wanted? No demands. No pleas for his own life or his friend's safety. No begging for the muggleborns to be left alone. Just to read a proposal. The healing of his soul was only a means to achieve that end. What was going through that boy's mind?
"And your part in all this?"
"Given the successful absorption of your soul fragments and should you choose to actually implement any part of my proposal I will assist you in anyway you need to ensure it's success. I can use my name to vouch for you or my votes to help pass bills and things such as that. I imagine I'll be rather useful all things considered. Once I am no longer needed and required to participate in current affairs or if you simply refuse my plan or assistance I will give you physical ownership of the remaining horcrux vessel and vow to not interfere with it without your permission. At that point I plan to retreat from society and leave you and the wizarding world to your own devices."
"Why would you do this? There is very little here that works towards your benefit? You essentially want me to read a proposal with no guarantee that I will implement even a part of it? What of your precious resistance?"
"I am tired Tom. I have very little left that I care about and this is my last effort to change things and it is only to honor my friends memories. I was never asked if I wanted to be a part of this war or where my opinions lay. This was always a fight between you and Dumbledore and I was simply dragged in the middle of it. Well here is my first and last attempt to to declare my stance. Regardless of the outcome once this is over I am finished. I am leaving this society and I do not plan to return."
Voldemort considered these words. What had happened to the boy he had met in the graveyard those years ago? That fierce undying determination seemed to have finally reached its limit. A pang that could almost be considered regret flashed through his mind, but was easily dismissed. The biggest question at hand was the matter of his horcruxes. He hadn't felt this lucid in years and it was easy to see now the cause of this. Should he take the risk? There was nothing stopping him from making more later after he was healed if it proved counterproductive. Fine he would consent to the boy's request and go from there once the boy wonder was no longer a threat.
"I, Lord Voldemort, formally Tom Marvolo Riddle, Jr., will consent to the absorption of all soul fragments save one and to read one Harry James Potter-Black's proposal with fair and unbiased consideration on the condition. Should I choose to implement any part of his proposal I will have his full cooperation to achieve these ends. My horcrux will be relinquished into my possession, unharmed, immediately upon the completion of these objectives. During this exchange I will not knowingly harm one Harry James Potter-Black unless in self defense. So mote it be."
"I, Harry James Potter-Black, will assist in the absorption of all soul fragments belonging to Tom Marvolo Riddle, Jr. sans one. On the condition that Tom Marvolo Riddle, Jr. reads my proposal without bias and with due consideration I will assist in the implementation of any part of my proposal in any way I am needed. Upon the conclusion of my assistance I will transfer the physical ownership of the remaining horcrux vessel to Tom Marvolo Riddle, Jr. and will not try to interfere with it in the time following without his permission. During this exchange I will not knowingly harm one Tom Marvolo Riddle, Jr. unless in self defense. So mote it be."
Voldemort felt his magic flare in acceptance of the oath. As the magic settled around him Voldemort had the feeling that this conversation would mark a turning point. Whether for himself, the brat, or the wizarding world at large he couldn't say.