Title: The Seventeenth Wish
Author: Darkmoon666
Pairing: Harry/Voldemort SLASH
Universe: Vinewood
Time: Summer before seventh year, takes place after 'Quirks of Fate'
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter (and his frienemies), no matter how much I want to. I can only play with his life and wish the books end differently.
Summary: AU. Harry's turning seventeen, and makes a wish on a real cake while he celebrates with Voldemort and the Death Eaters. It's his only wish to come true, and it does in the oddest manner Harry's ever met.
His scar sent him a twinge as he was washing the dishes, and Harry knew automatically it was his signal. He dropped the plate in the soapy water; even though the Dursleys had a dishwasher, his chores were intended for punishment. Thus, he washed and dried everything by hand. The plate cracked in half with a muffled sound as Harry quickly flicked the water faucet off and dried his hands with the towel hanging from the oven handle.
"That's the signal," he said aloud to no one, but it was enough for Vernon to turn from his place before the TV.
"BOY, get back to work!" Vernon's face darkened to a nasty violet shade as Harry ignored him in favor of pulling a tan-colored wand from a deep pocket of his cousin's baggy jeans. He easily flicked the wand, not minding the Ministry's detection spells. His Vinewood wand was illegal, but he had bought it from Knockturn Alley equipped with charms to evade magic-detecting wards.
Harry yanked his heavy trunk from his cupboard under the stairs, casting a Cleaning Spell at the dusty surface; the spiders that inhabited the cupboard were quick to catch on to the fact they couldn't spin webs attached to the chest.
Casting a weightless charm on his trunk, Harry grabbed it by one leather handle and tugged it behind him up the stairs to the room he was locked in every night. To prevent him from skipping chores, the door was locked behind Harry as he left the room each morning. Again, Harry nonverbally opened the door and slammed it in Vernon's face as he entered the room.
Since he could use magic, Dudley's second room was in the best shape it had ever been in; the sheets on the bed weren't threadbare, the desk's nicks and divots had been repaired, Hedwig's cage didn't smell, and the broken toys that filled the closet had been Vanished.
Feeling a second twinge from the scar on his head, Harry cursed and tossed the wand onto the bed after breaking the weightless charm and unlocking the trunk. He threw the lid up, but there was enough weight in the bottom to keep the trunk from tipping bottom's up. Reaching one hand in to the trunk, Harry cautiously ran his fingers over the paneling, searching for the opening to the second compartment. He winced as his fingers ran across a piece of glass, but in the next second a silvery glow emitted from the wooden wall. The clutter in the front of the first compartment disappeared, to be replaced with stacks of rich clothing.
Harry shuffled through the stacks, careful not to unfold the many shirts, pants, and robes, until he found something that was right for the occasion. He threw the pants, shirt, boots, mask, and cloak onto the bed as he ran his hand over the compartment again, searching for its third level.
This compartment was neat and orderly, containing an assortment of belongings, including Harry's old holly wand. Standing from his crouch to walk to the bed, Harry grabbed his Vinewood wand and cast a Packing spell. It gathered all his belongings scattered around the room and neatly stacked them in the trunk until all that was left were the transfigured bedclothes, Hedwig in her cage, the clothing he had on, which he would be leaving at the Dursleys with the rest of Dudley's hand-me-downs, and the fresh items on the bed.
Another wave of Harry's wand opened Hedwig's locked cage and the bars disappeared from their place on the window. "Go home, girl," Harry told the bird. The snowy owl fluttered from her swinging perch with a hoot to Harry and exited into the falling twilight. The cage cleaned itself, shrunk, and floated to the trunk. The lid snapped shut and the trunk disappeared with a small crack, appearing where Harry was going to live for the rest of the summer.
The teen stripped off his baggy shirt and pulled the belt from the loops on the jeans, causing both the trousers and pants underneath to fall from his skinny waist. A wave of the wand canceled the glamour Harry had on, causing the messy raven hair to lengthen to his shoulders. Purple and blue highlights were visible in the white light from the ceiling. Three tattoos appeared, one on his shoulder blade, another on his hip, and the last curling along his left forearm.
Moving quickly, Harry snapped the leather pants in the air, causing them to stretch with the help of wandless magic. He quickly yanked the pants on, smiling happily when the magic faded and they became skin-tight. He sat on the bed and dropped the boots to the floor, stepping into the knee-high leather. Harry waited as the fabric zipped up on the back of his calves, the seam blending into the leather by magic.
Harry pulled the delicate-looking but sturdy shirt over his head. Being careful not to rip the slippery material, though magic could easily fix it, cost Harry a few minutes, resulting in another twinge of his scar. Scowling, Harry pushed his bony arms through and breathed happily when the neckline fell easily over his long hair.
The tight green-silk shirt contrasted wonderfully with his emerald eyes and the silver threads on the black pants and boots. Harry slid his wand into his right boot-leg top, where it was in easy reach should anything happen.
His scar sent him a twinge one last time, in sync with a pounding on the Dursleys front door. Conjuring a leather strap, Harry tied his hair loosely at the nape of his neck, causing some pieces to float free while the majority stayed out of his eyes. Scooping his cloak and mask off the bed, Harry gracefully left the room, ignoring the screams from his uncle at his misbehavior.
"Enter!" he called loudly when the hammering on the front door continued. An irate Severus Snape, followed by a smug Draco Malfoy, entered the house.
"Impressive clean-up there, Potter. I'm quite surprised at what you've managed to come up with," Draco said, eyeing him with faint admiration.
Harry shrugged as he pranced down the stairs, his eyes alight with joy. "You can blame your mother for most of my second wardrobe; she thought it a little…bland when she saw me last, so she took me shopping over the summer."
"Of course," Snape sneered. "So are you ready or must you be late to your own party?"
"It's not a party unless you're fashionably late," Harry remarked, sticking his nose primly in the air. He huffed when Draco elbowed him in the ribs. "Watch it, Draco, that one hurt," Harry complained, rubbing the tender area with his free hand. "They didn't feed me again," he commented.
With the cloak hooked over an elbow, Harry pressed the mask against the skin of his face, waiting for the second when the magic connected with the disguise. It stuck in place and Harry dropped his fingers, resisting the urge to play with the silvery patterns traced out in raised paint.
A swift movement and the cloak fluttered to the floor as he clasped it around his neck. His fingers tugged the hood until his face was in shadows, even with the mask on. "Are we ready?" he questioned.
Severus and Draco nodded, the former quick to draw his wand and smoothly using Avada Kedavra to kill the Muggles, all three of which had been gathered at the foot of the stairs, speechless. The bodies hit the floor with heavy thumps easily ignored by the three men leaving the house. A quick flick of Harry's wrist set the house on fire as Severus sent the Dark Mark into the air.
HP*LV
The trio meandered through the front lawn of the Dursleys burning house. When they heard sounds of Apparition, the three rushed passed the wards and disappeared.
Harry followed behind Snape and Malfoy as they strolled through the halls of Malfoy Manor, the current location of the Death Eaters, and the place of Harry's seventeenth birthday party. As Harry wasn't known to the Death Eaters, he kept his mask on as he strode into the Grand Hall, where he was received by the cheers of many, as well as the small smirk of one Dark Lord.
"Happy birthday, Joker!" the group of people called out at different intervals. Harry was the only guest with a mask, as the Death Eaters socialized with friends and family, able to view the other.
Leaving Draco and Snape with the rest of the crowd, Harry approached Lord Voldemort's throne. His emerald eyes glinted at the man when he stopped at his feet. Voldemort's hand rose to him and Harry accepted it with a smile, using the limb to pull himself onto Voldemort's lap and kissing the man deeply. "I missed you," Harry murmured against the man's lips.
Voldemort let out a low chuckle. "I missed you too, my Joker."
Harry twisted in the man's lap to face the audience. "Let's celebrate!" he exclaimed.
The party started in full force then. Younger, soon-to-be Death Eaters gathered together on the dance floor while their parents stayed off to the side, conversing with unveiled friends. Harry removed himself from Voldemort's lap after another kiss to the thin lips and went to dance with Draco and the rest of the younger, unmarked Death Eaters.
HP*LV
When he was fairly tired from all the dancing, some of the female Death Eaters approached Harry where he had retired on his smaller throne on the dais next to Lord Voldemort.
"Happy birthday, Joker," the women told him, echoed by the men. One used Wingardium Leviosa to hover their cake to his level.
"Make a wish, Joker!" someone in the back called out.
Harry closed his eyes and wished over a real cake on the night of his birthday, something he had never done before. An alarm went off in the background, signaling it was 11:59. Harry's eyes snapped open and he exhaled over the eighteen candles, an extra for luck.
They burned out quickly, amidst cheers from the Death Eaters. One of the women Conjured a knife, and Harry cut the cake. After taking a slice, the food was levitated back to its table where the rest of the guests converged. Harry shifted on his rather uncomfortable throne, directing Voldemort's attention to his finely dressed figure. Smirking, Harry ran his finger through the icing and licked it, sending heated looks to Voldemort. He heard the man's hiss of Parseltongue, and was glad his mouth was occupied by the cake, rather delicious as it was made by willing house elves, or he would have moaned aloud.
Voldemort's crimson eyes flickered to his unaware Death Eaters, skipping over a slightly curious Severus Snape, paying him no mind. No one else was paying attention to the two on the dais, so Voldemort happily abandoned his throne, grabbed his Joker's arm in a tight grip, and pulled the teen behind him to his, Voldemort's, rooms, ignoring Joker's indignant responses to his treatment.
"Shut-up, Potter," Voldemort hissed. He gave no time for a reply; instead, Voldemort open-mouth kissed the teen, licking the sugary sweetness from the lips that cried of Harry. The lust was returned, and the cake was abandoned on the desk as they approached the bed.
HP*LV
Relaxing after strenuous activities, Harry was curled into Voldemort. His emerald eyes stared at the half-eaten cake, and Harry was pleased at the reaction the simple dessert earned him.
"I love you," Voldemort whispered suddenly. His mouth then kissed the tattoo on Harry's shoulder, gently tracing the ink with his tongue.
Harry gasped but replied shortly. "I love you too." Voldemort nuzzled his face deeply into Harry's neck and kissed the soft skin he found. The two relaxed until they were about to fall into sleep.
"What did you wish for?" Voldemort asked.
"It doesn't matter," Harry replied. "It just came true." Harry grinned sleepily and curled further back into the warm body pressed against his own. The arm held securely against his side tightened as the fingers stroked down his chest.
I hope you all enjoyed reading this, as I enjoyed writing it for sure!
Be kind; drop a line (review)! Visit my profile and other fics, too.
~Moony