Thank you to those who added this to their alert and favorite lists! If you can find the time to review this after this chapter that would be great!

This chapter is basically fluff, just to warn you, but it's good fluff :P

Anyway, read and enjoy ;)


'Master is home, is the-oh!' Nagini slid over to Voldemort where he held Harry in his arms. 'You have snakelet!' She hissed delightedly.

Voldemort's face was strained as he shifted Harry slightly, causing the child to whimper, even in sleep.

'What is wrong with snakelet?' Nagini asked anxiously. She watched as her Master transfigured a chair into a small bed and lay the boy down on it gently. With an enraged hiss she curled protectively around 'snakelet', wrapping herself around his tiny frame.

'So small! Who does this to snakelet?' She snapped in anger, hissing as she flecked Harry's face with her forked tongue.

Voldemort conjured a wooden chair and sat beside his son's bed, a strange emotion on his face.

Harry, he thought, gazing at the sleeping child's peaceful face, his thick dark eyelashes resting against his flushed skin. Voldemort reached out a hand and brushed Harry's soft black hair off his forehead, running his fingers through the silky locks.

His son.

Harry.

The Dark Lord felt a strange sensation rising in his throat as he stared down at the child; it made it difficult to breathe. Dark bruised lined the length of Harry's soft cheekbone, and the left side of his face was still an angry red from the Dursley's hand, his shoulder resting at slightly an odd angle. Anger boiled in Voldemort's stomach. How dare he touch my son! He thought, furious. How dare he strike him!

Harry moaned in his sleep and twisted fitfully. Automatically the Dark Lords' pale hand stroked his child's smooth cheek.

"Ssh, Harry, you're safe, I'm here, you're safe," he shushed soothingly. Harry smiled, a beautiful innocent smile, in his slumber, and snuggled against his father's hand. Voldemort's eyes softened and his lips curved upwards. He gently tried to pull his hand away, but Harry clung to it like a lifeline. Oh well, he thought, it wasn't as if I was going to leave him alone anyway. With a casual wave of his wand the bed grew in size until it resembled a huge double bed, far bg enough for a man and child. He then transfigured his cloak into an emerald green duvet, and his outer robes into large soft pillows, before he lay down next to his son and carefully covered them both with the comforter.

The last thing the Dark Lord was aware of was Harry's warm weight in his arms, his small heartbeat thrumming against his father's chest, and Nagini coiling around them both.

(HPHP)

Harry woke feeling...happy. This was odd. He never felt happy when he woke up, he normally felt, well...(the word was depressed, but Harry's vocabulary didn't stretch that far yet). Only if the voice had talked to him during the night, whispering comforting words, did he ever feel better. There was an ache in his head, but that was nothing unusual, and his left shoulder burned a little. He wriggled contentedly, nestling into the warmth. Then he remembered. He opened his eyes slowly, blinking in the soft morning light. His slightly bewildered gaze fell upon the man he was curled up on.

Voldemort had awoken earlier to discover Harry, sleeping peacefully, in a bundle on his chest. His fingers had brushed through the child's hair affectionately, a smile on his lips as his arms cradled his son who cuddled against him.

"Morning Harry," he said softly, watching Harry with a gentle expression. Harry's emerald green eyes lit up.

"It's you!" He cried excitedly, his happy smile lighting up his face. "It's you! You said you'd come, I knew it!" Harry sat up on his knees, practically bouncing up and down with joy. Confusion crossed Voldemort's face.

"What do you mean, child?" He asked, catching Harry's hand in his own as the child reached for his face, and kissing it.

"You're the voice," Harry said, throwing his arms around the Dark Lord's neck; Voldemort's arms caught him instinctively. "I hear you in my head, you care about me, you, you even said...said you loved me, once," the five year old said shyly, hiding his face in Voldemort's neck.

Voldemort hid his surprise.

Harry could hear his thoughts?

Harry, can you hear me now, child? He thought, mind racing. Harry nodded happily.

Yes! Harry's sweet answering voice in his head made him start, but he controlled the emotion. He'd heard of mind links before but never had experienced...

Harry, he thought, warmth blossoming in his chest. Mine. My child.

Harry looked up from his father's shoulder, green eyes wide.

"My child...?" He asked, angelic face crinkling as if he were trying to work something out. "You're my Daddy?" He said in wonder, peeking at the Dark Lord. Voldemort's lips curved upwards.

"Yes, Harry," he whispered, hugging his child close. "You're my son." Harry's grip around his neck tightened until it was almost painful, but he didn't let the boy go. His lips kissed Harry's hair.

"You rescued me from my Aunt and Uncle," Harry's voice was small, holding hope.

"Yes."

"You took me away," Harry snuggled deeper into his father's warmth.

"Yes," Voldemort's heart clenched with emotion.

"I love you, Daddy," the words were spoken so softly he barely caught them, but he did.

"I love you too, Harry," he whispered. Harry froze at his reply and the Dark Lord tensed. What was wrong, was the child in pain? But then Harry relaxed and stuck his thumb in his mouth, shutting his eyes contentedly.

Happiness and hope flowed from harry's mind into his, and Voldemort smiled softly at how happy his son was in his arms.

Harry soon fell asleep again, thumb still in mouth, burrowed into Voldemort's side. The Dark Lord lay there in a somewhat sleepy haze, vaguely aware that, for the first time in his life, he was having something that ordinary people had: a lie in. He chuckled quietly at what the wizarding world would make of this; the world's most ever feared Dark wizard lying in bed late on a Sunday morning with a small child nestled into his side, and not just any child. Harry Potter. He rolled his eyes. When would they ever learn? When would they learn not to just buy into the first story they were told?

Nagini sneezed in her slumber, her beautiful head jerking. Voldemort snorted. An orange eye slowly opened and his snake glared at him.

'Morning, Nagini,' he greeted, controlling his amusement. She huffed.

'Nothing good about morning, nothing good-oh!' She raised her head excitedly, her snake eyes having fallen upon the sleeping Harry. 'Snakelet is here! Nagini forgets, but snakelet is here!' She flicked her tongue enthusiastically over Harry's cheeks, sliding across the child's legs.

'Nagini, careful!' Voldemort said as he sat up, drawing Harry onto his lap and holding him protectively from the giant serpent. 'He's only little, be careful with him', he told her.

If snakes could roll their eyes, this one would have.

'Nagini is always careful, Nagini would never hurt snakelet!' She sounded affronted. 'Hello snakelet!' Her cheerful good morning was lost on Harry, who had been woken up by the hissing sounds.

"Hello, Harry," Voldemort said softly. Harry blinked, yawning widely, and the Dark Lord couldn't suppress what some would call a 'loving smile' at what an adorable picture that made.

"My'rnin," he mumbled. Then his eyes fell on Nagini. An ear splitting scream filled the sleepy silence in the room and Harry flung himself behind Voldemort shaking. Nagini hissed and shot backwards, falling with a loud thump to the floor, and Voldemort jumped at the noise.

"Harry?" He turned to see the young child behind him, gripping his shirt tightly, eyes huge with fear. "Harry, it's okay," he spoke gently, carefully prising his son's fists from himself and wrapping a reassuring arm around him. "This is Nagini, she is my pet snake," he explained. Harry peeked around him timidly, mouth open.

"She's huge!" He whispered, as he shrank back immediately.

"She is," Voldemort smiled, "but she won't hurt you." He laughed quietly at Harry's disbelieving expression. "I promise you, Harry, Nagini is very fond of you."

'Much less fond now that Nagini knows snakelet makes such loud noises,' Nagini grumbled. Her great scaly body slithered back onto the bed, watched warily by Harry.

'She talks!' Harry burst out in awe, staring incredulously. Nagini glared at him.

'I do not talk,' she said coolly, 'I communicate.'

'No, you talk,' Harry disagreed, in Parstletongue. Voldemort laughed.

"Harry, Nagini speaks snake language, Parstletongue. You can understand her because you speak it too, like me."

The five year old looked up at him, half fascinated, half afraid.

"Will she hurt me, Daddy?" He mumbled, hiding his face in Voldemort's side.

"No, Harry," he replied soothingly, hugging him.

"I talked to a snake!" Harry said wondrously.

"You did."

"That's cool!"

The Dark Lord smiled at his son's vocabulary.

"Nagini's quite moddy, isn't she, Daddy," Harry said cheekily, raising his head. Voldemort's eyes crinkled with mirth.

"Yes she is, Harry, I quite agree."

'What does snakelet say, what are you speaking about?' Nagini hissed angrily, glowering at them.

'Nagini, Harry is glad that you like him and will not hurt him,' Voldemort said lightly. Harry nodded enthusiastically. The snake scowled.

'I do not like hi, snakelet is annoying,' she muttered.

'Hey!' Harry cried, looking hurt.

'Now, what does snakelet say about Nagini?'

'Um, th,that you're a little bit moody,' Harry looked up at his father, frightened, and pressed his face against Voldemort's chest.

'Moody! Nagini is not moody!' Nagini bared her fangs. 'You insolent, rude little human, I will swallow-'

'Nagini,' Voldemort hissed, eyes flashing. Harry whimpered and the Dark Lord's arms tightened around him.

'Yes Master,' Nagini spat, glaring daggers at Harry.

'Harry is not to be harmed.' The Dark Lord's voice left no room for arguments.

'Fine,' She yawned widely, purposely showing her long, pointed fangs. Harry stiffened. 'But snakelet must be nice to Nagini. If he is annoying and bothersome it will not be Nagini's fault if-'

'Nagini!' Fury radiated off Voldemort and his eyes flashed crimson. 'Your honest word or I will banish you from this home.'

'Master wouldn't-' Nagini's eyes widened.

'I would.'

There was a long silence.

'Fine,' the huge serpent hissed, slipping off the bed and sliding across the wood floor and through a door which lead to the bathroom. Voldemort felt a wetness on his neck and looked down at his teary child who who clinging to him.

"Harry?" He asked anxiously, rubbing his son's back. "Harry, what is wrong?"

Harry snuffled.

"Nagini doesn't like me," he sniffed, "I maked her angry."

Voldemort almost smiled at Harry's infant way of speaking, but controlled himself. Now was not the time.

"It's okay, love, Nagini doesn't really mind. She's actually very forgiving, for a snake."

"If I make her breakfast, will she be happy again?" Harry blinked his green eyes at the Dark Lord seriously. "Food used to make U,Uncle Vernon in a good mood." Harry trembled slightly as he mentioned his Uncle.

Voldemort kissed his forehead.

"Of course, Harry, what do you plan on serving her?"

"Pancakes," the child smiled happily. Voldemort had to choke back a laugh at the image of his snotty serpent enjoying a plate of syrupy pancakes, but he couldn't repress a snigger.

"What's funny, Daddy?" Harry patted his cheek. There was a soaring feeling in Voldemort's stomach when the word tumbled naturally from Harry's lips. Daddy. He smiled.

"How happy I am, Harry," he kissed his son's forehead.

(HPHP)

Pancake making was eventful, to say the least. Perhaps it was a good thing that the house was already in such a state of disrepair as the enthusiastic five year old made more mess than a rogue puppy. The mouth watering aroma of pancake batter was enough to drive Nagini from her hiding place eventually to ask what the Master and snakelet were cooking.

'Pancakes!' Harry told her brightly, trying and failing to flip a pancake. Luckily Voldemort's hastily cast spell saved it from making a new addition to the 'kitchen' floor. The kitchen was currently the most usable room in the house. It had a hob, a fireplace, cooking facilities, and a large oak table and chairs. However it now resembled a bomb site, and looked as though various explosions had occurred at once. Harry, for one, had egg in his hair, and Voldemort's front was drenched in milk. (Don't tell the wizarding world that, by the way, they might have a fit).

Watching Harry struggle with the heavy saucepan, a sudden thought occurred to the Dark Lord and his eyes widened.

"Harry! Your shoulder!" He quickly took the saucepan from Harry and set it down, crouching in front of his son. Harry looked confused.

"Wha-Oh!" His eyes lit up in understanding. "It feels fine now, it was probably only a bruise."

Voldemort rolled up his son's sleeve and winced when he saw the black bruising decorating his son's shoulder.

"Harry, does this not hurt?" He asked, worried.

'Snakelet is hurt!' Nagini hissed, slithering over. 'Nagini will tear those worthless muggles to pieces and shreds when she gets hold of them.'

Harry smiled shyly at the snake.

'Thank you, Nagini.'

'You are welcome, snakelet.'

Voldemort was pretty certain that his serpent blushed. At least, her scales darkened considerably. With a smirk, he summoned a vial of salve for Harry's bruises and began rubbing it onto the dark patches of skin, oblivious to Harry's stunned expression.

"What?" Voldemort frowned, looking up at Harry. Realisation dawned on him. He'd performed magic. "It's magic, Harry," he said simply.

"Th,there's no-magic's not, not real," the child stumbled over his words. Voldemort kissed his forehead.

"Yes there is, son. You're a wizard, the same as I am."

"But, my relatives said-"

"Your relatives are horrible people, Harry. And what they told you was not true. Magic exists in the best kinds of people."

"Oh," was all Harry said, eyes wide.

"And they're not actually your relatives," Voldemort said quietly, picking Harry up in his arms and standing. The kitchen really was a mess.

"Huh?"

"You're my son, not James and Lily Potter's," he spat their names, "that means you're not related to the Dursleys at all."

"I'm not related..." Harry said slowly, eyes lighting up. Then his expression clouded. "But why does people think Mum and Da-I mean, James and Lily, are my parents?" He asked in confusion. "Why do they not know you're my Daddy?"

Voldemort swallowed.

"You were taken from me when you were only a baby," he said softly, "by James and Lily Potter. They, they kidnapped you and said that you were their, their son." He closed his eyes. "So everyone thinks you are Harry Potter."

Harry looked as if he were about to cry.

"Why would they do that?" He asked, lips trembling. "If they wanted a child why didn't they get their own?"

Voldemort ignored Harry's idea of how couple's conceived children with a slight smile.

"I don't know why they did that, Harry," he murmured. No way was he telling his son the truth. He was too young.

"What's my real name?" Harry asked, snuffling his face into Voldemort's shoulder. The older man chuckled.

"Harry Jonathon Riddle."

Harry pulled a face into his father's shirt.

"That sounds scary," he mumbled.

The Dark Lord laughed.

"It does, doesn't it, love."

"You're not scary, Daddy," Harry smiled adorably. Some would beg to differ, harry, Voldemort thought with a smile.

Why? Harry's voice asked in his head curiously.

A story for another day, child, he replied, smirking.

Harry was silent for a while, sucking his thumb, and Voldemort began to wonder if he had fallen asleep again when he said shyly.

"Daddy, where's Mummy?"

Voldemort took a deep breath and stroked his son's soft hair.

"Your Mother was...taken too. By the same people who took you."

"James and Lily?"

He nodded, throat tightening.

"Yes."

"Oh."

Quiet.

"Where is she now? Is she living with other people like I was?"

"No, Harry," the Dark Lord smiled sadly. "Your Mother, Emily, she...well, she disappeared. I don't, no one knows...She's not here anymore." He choked on the last part.

"Mummy's gone?" Harry asked, tears trickling down his cheeks.

"Yes," Voldemort buried his face in his son's hair. Nagini curled around his ankles comfortingly, sensing something was wrong, even without understanding.

"I think Mummy would be happy we are a family now," Harry said softly, sniffing.

"Yes, child, yes she would," Voldemort nodded, hugging Harry close.


Okay, so end of chapter 2. Review with what you think, more reviews equals faster updates, so BRIBE ME! :)