Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Harry walked off at a fast pace and managed to locate his study fairly quickly. He had many plans that needed to be perfected before he went back to school and he wasn't too sure he could get them done in time. The sooner he started, the better off he'd be. He only had a few more hours before he'd be missed.
Maps and many different colored inks littered his desk and many other tables that he had conjured just for all the extra maps and parchments and letters that he had been receiving from his spies. Much better than either Dumbledore's or Voldemort's spies, too. No one suspected his spies, but conspiracies and suspicions were high with the other two. He laughed quietly and took his reading glasses off when he heard the clock chime one.
He needed to get back and he needed to do it soon if he wanted to get there before they'd notice his absence.
As he was reviewing his work, he felt an owl fly through the window. He looked and knew that Earl was here to tell him that the battle was done and both sides were looking for their dead and missing. He nodded and the owl flew back out as he left to find the kitten that had started meowing.
He was stuck on a stair. It would figure that the creature would try to climb the one set of stairs that he had charmed to let only himself climb. He didn't need anyone up in his private section of the castle, and he hadn't remembered to tell the cat not to climb any stairs. He shook his head and went to get the feline before apparating to the Forbidden Forest.
The cat wasn't phased in the slightest, leading him to believe that he'd done it before. He shook the thought off, put his glasses on, and threw the Invisibility cloak over the two of them before making sure his glamours were in place. The cat was in his pocket again and he told it to be quiet before entering the castle.
He made it up to the third floor where he glamoured the two of them to look like they'd just walked away from the fiercest thing they'd ever been through.
"Act stunned," was the only warning he gave to the feline before taking the cloak off and spelling it to his trunk. He stumbled off towards the stairs, being sure to look like he was injured and trying to hide it.
"Harry!" He saw the bushy-haired girl running to him, her head bleeding profusely, and a redhead following her closely.
"Ron, Hermione needs to go to Pomfrey. She's bleeding." At the mention of Hermione needing medical attention, he quickly took her and redirected her momentum down the stairs and to the Great Hall. He pulled the cat out of his pocket and stumbled down two more flights of stairs before seeing one Severus Snape. The Potions Master quickly glanced around the corridor and pulled him into an unused room that looked as if it was about to collapse.
"My Lord Viper." He bowed. "How can I be of assistance?" The cat hissed and reached out with a clawed paw, intent on doing some damage. Harry put him back in his pocket, glad that it was too small to climb back out.
"I never left. I was upstairs and was knocked unconscious. Right now you're giving me a few potions to return me to full health and will request that I be taken to your house-slightly unwillingly, of course-for better protection. Hiding in the most obviously hidden place to look." Severus nodded and Harry smiled.
"I can always count on you Severus." He got a smile from the older man and they left the room together, Severus carrying him. He closed his eyes and evened out his breathing so it looked as if he was asleep.
The next two hours were spent in some form of closed-off room serving as the headquarters for Dumbledore and the Order. He listened intently to Severus arguing with the others about where Harry should stay and then he heard the potentially fatal silence that signaled his deep thinking, philosophical mode. He was totally fine until the entire room burst into protest at Severus's suggestion that he come with him to Spinner's End. He had trouble not laughing.
In the end it was decided that Harry be the one to choose when he woke up, and he chose to 'sleep' for a little while longer. He felt Severus prying in his mind for a moment and told him to stall for a bit. He did, most exceptionally.
He thought it was about half an hour later when he opened his eyes and found himself in a chair that was rather comfortable for how it looked. All eyes were on him, most in worry and concern. Severus was, of course, amused and in the back so no one would notice his lack of hatred.
"My boy, I have some bad news and a choice for you." And so he had to sit and listen for the longest amount of time. He was almost certain that Dumbledore was taking his time so he'd agree to whatever the old man wanted.
"Look Professor, I understand what has happened. And what I don't I can fill the holes with intuition and inferring. Don't beat around the bush and just tell me already." Everyone gasped, they'd never seen Harry stand up to Dumbledore before-or anyone for that matter. He seemed to take it in stride though, and told him rather promptly what Severus had offered. He sat there and pretended to think about his answer carefully.
"It seems like the logical option, doesn't it? If I go with someone that Voldemort knows I'm comfortable with then when he looks for me with them he'll find me sooner. If I go with someone that I'm supposed to hate, then he won't ever dream of looking for me there." He then drifted off to sleep and let the conversation go where it may. He didn't want to listen to the rest.
It was deemed that Harry would, indeed go with Severus and the two flooed away immediately.
When they got to Spinner's End, Potter aparated the two of them to his place, leaving Severus to get back to his potions and books, and put Voldemort down on the dining room table while he got dinner. They ate rice and chicken, something that he enjoyed greatly-even in this new cat form.
"I'm going to my study. Are you coming with me or are you going to try and climb more stairs?" He quickly shook his head, appalled at the idea of getting stuck again. He followed Potter through a few corridors and several rooms before he finally sat down behind a desk and several other tables.
He tried to get up so he could see what he was doing, but he couldn't jump high enough. Potter quickly realized this and lifted him up to his eye level.
"You knock anything over or spill any ink and I'll have your hide for a hat." He nodded his understanding and was promptly set on a small spot where there wasn't any parchment or ink or quills. His eyes widened as he saw all of the maps, letters, inquiries, pots of ink, quills, and charms that were most commonly sold to young witches hoping that their best friends would like them.
He watched Potter work in quiet, his eyes going from letter to letter and moving different charms to different maps and labeling different places with different colors of ink. Eventually he laid down for a change of position, gently nudging a bottle of ink slightly so he wouldn't knock it over on accident. The last thing he needed was to knock over all that ink on the work that Potter had clearly spend hours and hours on.
"I suppose you'd like to know what I'm doing." He nodded, his eyes half closed. It was quite warm where he was, and he didn't know how to make his eyes open fully if he'd just be teased with not knowing anything that was going on.
He dozed while Potter told him all about the little war that he had started with Dumbledore and how he had been slammed into it. The only thing that really caught his attention was the hatred that saturated his voice during the entire monologue.
"So I got fed up and started my own side. I really don't want fighting and it seems to me that Dumbledore is looking for trouble. Between his dealings with the Ministry and Voldemort, I'm amazed that he hasn't died already." He turned back in. "So I've gathered quite a few different spies, much better than anyone could ever hope to have, and have had them run around finding me followers and information. With all of this I can keep track of who we've recruited, who rejected us, who we're working on recruiting, and who's on whose side. It's really quite handy, actually."
Voldemort had been at full attention by now and was rapidly putting two and two together. It was all making sense now, why neither side seemed to gain the support of several different groups. Why neither side ever seemed to have an advantage over the other.
"And every time I want to talk to that blasted man, he just starts firing hexes! He's never really put in much thought into his plans when it comes to where he is, so I guess that's why he never noticed that I try to get him by himself. But really. I'm trying to do him a favor and he's just throwing curses at me, trying to kill me! It's absolutely unnecessary." Potter looked at him with a small smile. "That's what I've been doing lately. Trying to figure out a way to make the idiot listen to me." He watched as the boy got up and walked over to a bookshelf, eyeing one particularly old-looking book. "If only he knew what I'm capable of. He'd never try to kill me again, the dolt."
He bristled at that comment and wondered just what had to happen when the boy hadn't been in school to make him so ruthless and hungry for revenge and power over everyone. The thought ran through his mind just before Potter started talking again.
"I mean, it's not like I don't know what I'm doing. I know exactly what I'm doing and what I want and what I need and if that man fires one more blasted hex my way, I swear I'm just going to take him hostage, consequences be fucking damned!" Voldemort was astonished by the cussing that Potter just did–he never cussed. Not even on the battlefield.
This sudden burst of anger and irritation clearly wasn't even a quarter of what the boy was truly feeling.
A few hours later found Potter sleeping on his paperwork. Voldemort wondered why he hadn't thought to ask for help before and decided that there was no time like the present. The boy looked like he wouldn't be waking up anytime soon so he grabbed a blank sheaf of parchment and a bottle of ink and started working.
Two hours later he wanted the stupid thing to burn. He couldn't make anything look decent and had to revert to a childish writing, nothing like his normal calligraphy that he was used to seeing. He shook his head and forced himself to be happy with what he had managed to make his paws write out in the sticky ink. Now he just had to wait and not move from this spot. He refused to get ink on anything but the parchment that he used.
He started meowing pitifully after another hour. He was tired and just wanted to be cleaned up so he didn't have to stay in such a confined area. He was stiff and sore and just wanted to go explore and do something. And then he saw something glittery on Potter's ear.
He had to force his eyes closed so he wouldn't pounce and didn't like the fact that he was having issues keeping his body under his control. He meowed louder. Eventually the boy woke up.
"What? What do you want?" Voldemort opened his eyes, glad that the distracting object was gone and out of sight. He looked deliberately down at the parchment and watched as Potter read his childish writing.
"So, you say you're Voldemort. Well, I'm quite pleased that you can't do much damage like this. Now, do I have to put you in a cage or are you going to behave?" He rolled his eyes and looked at himself before raising his gaze back to the clearly-larger male. "Fine. Come on, you're full of ink."
He was carefully carried to a counter in the kitchen and started purring when Potter gently cleaned his paws off. He didn't know why but his touch calmed him and just felt so good. He shook his head but didn't try to stop the purring. In for a spell, in for a wand.
"So, why are you a kitten?" He hung his head and let himself be carried to the dining room table.
