Summary: After being turned into a snake by Snape and Dumbledore and unable to change back, Lord Voldemort has no choice but to turn to the only other living Parselmouth, Harry Potter. After making a deal with each other, Harry agrees to help the Dark Lord return to his human form. Forced to work together, how will Harry deal with having Voldemort live around his neck?

Rating: T for language and slash

Warnings: Eventual Harry/Voldemort SLASH (please don't read if you don't like), Grey(ish)!Harry, Slightly-manipulative but not "evil"!Dumbledore

Disclaimer: I don't, and never will, own Harry Potter. All it's plots and characters belong to J.K. Rowling and company.

A/N: Once again, thank you to all those who've reviewed/faved/alerted this story. I tried to respond to reviews but FF did something weird to the site so the response links in my email didn't work anymore. Hopefully for this chapter they will work again.

This chapter is probably not at funny, but it's necessary. Also, if things seem to "easy" for the two...just wait ;)

I don't have a beta so any spelling/grammer mistakes/stupid ideas are mine ;)

Enjoy!

"Regular speech"

:Parseltongue:

Thoughts

"Spells"

:Spells:

:Potter, what are you planning?:

Harry tilted the book he was reading down onto his lap and looked down the bed at Voldemort.

:What makes you think I'm planning anything?: Harry suspected his face looked suspiciously innocent.

:Potter, you've gone to bed still dressed in your robes. Your shoes are even on.:

Harry lazily lifted his book back to eyelevel and answered, knowing it would irritate the man-snake, :Huh, so I am.: The corner of his mouth curled up as Voldemort, as expected, made an irritated rasp. Mercifully, Harry added, :Well, maybe I am planning something. How do you feel about sneaking into Snape's office?:

Voldemort's upper half rose up from the bed. :I assume your intentions are to discover if Snape was involved with my transformation. I shall also assume you have no plan for which to do this,: he commented dryly.

Harry kicked his legs under the covers as he casually rolled onto his side, displacing a hissing Voldemort from his spot on the comforter.

:Oh, I have some plans.:

Harry continued to read, knowing Voldemort expected him to elaborate. Harry, of course, would not give him that satisfaction. He liked to think he was teaching the Dark Lord the art of asking instead of demanding.

:Potter, tell me how you're going to sneak into the quisling's office.:

Harry mentally sighed. It was a work in progress.

:Fine, we're going to use this.: Harry pulled a blank piece of folded parchment from under his bed and placed it on top of his red comforter in Voldemort's line of sight.

:Potter, I've always thought you were an idiot. Glad to see I was not mistaken.:

Grinning impishly, Harry gave up all pretense of appearing to read and shrugged. :Takes one to know one, right?:

Taking up his wand, Harry introduced Voldemort to the Marauder's Map, to which the snake commented it was a piece of junk only idiots would need to use. Harry took his words to mean he was rather impressed with the object. Harry hadn't really wanted to give Voldemort all his secrets-he already knew about the cloak from the first night-but what choice did he have? They needed to get down to the dungeons and this was the easiest way without getting caught and having to answer some awkward questions about what exactly he was doing, depending on where he got caught (Snape: "What are you doing in my office?"). Harry hoped that in the end, the benefits would be greater than the sacrifices taken to get there.

Inside the privacy of Harry's curtained bed, the two perused the Map, watching the halls clear of students and faculty as the night grew late. Harry focused particularly on Snape's movements, knowing the man tended to patrol the halls longer than most, getting his kicks by catching students out past curfew and giving them arduous detentions.

While Snape was the DADA professor this year, he was still inherently a Potions Master, and thus had kept his personal lab and office in the dungeons for his use. The idea was that if there was any information on what potion he—may have—used on Voldemort, it would be found there. What that meant was Harry and Voldemort had to make their way down to the lower levels of the castle without getting caught, break into Snape's office, spend what could be minutes or hours searching for any evidence of his involvement in Voldemort's predicament, get out undetected and make it back to Gryffindor Tower.

:Easy. Well, except for the whole 'break into Snape's office' part…but the getting there and theoretically the getting away is easy.: Harry paused, carding a hand through his hair. :Maybe you could slip under the door…?:

Voldemort puffed up in indignation. :Potter! You may be an idiot Gryffindor, but I'm not:

:Oh-kay, no going under the door.: Harry propped his chin up with his hand, noticing that Voldemort seemed to be contemplating something.

:Get us to the dungeons, and I can get you into the charlatan's office.:

After thinking a moment before finally shrugging, Harry told him, :Fine by me.:

:…You better hope I actually have a way to get in. Stupid Gryffindor.:

:What if Snape wasn't the one to dose you?: Harry asked, ignoring Voldemort's comment. :What then? Should I approach him for help if that was the case?:

:It was him,: Voldemort said confidently.

Harry shot him an exasperated look. :You're just biased because he deceived you.:

:It was him, Potter. If I could not identify the potion, then it must be a vary rare or newly invented one. Only someone of his caliber, both in potions and in my ranks, could have gotten that potion into my tea.:

"I still can't believe you drink tea…" Harry murmured to himself, earning an aggravated hiss from Voldemort in response.

Finally, at eleven-thirty, the dot on the map labeled "Severus Snape" trailed down to the dungeons and into his private quarters. So, donning his Invisibility Cloak and silencing his footsteps, Harry snuck down and out of the Common Room and into the school corridors. He made faster progress than he normally would, as Voldemort kept his eyes on the Map ("'Piece of junk' my arse," Harry muttered) while Harry merely focused on walking. As a result, getting down into the dungeons to Snape's office was easy; the hard part was still to come. Thankfully, so far Snape seemed inclined to remain within his quarters. Harry didn't care to know what he was doing.

Invisible, the young man stood in front of the door of a chamber which held a rather large amount of unpleasant memories for him.

:Alohamora isn't going to work, is it?:

:Of course not. You're going to have to use Parselmagic.:

:…Excuse me?:

Voldemort hissed in annoyance. :You are a bloody Parselmouth, Potter. I've gotten word, and partially seen in your mind what happened your Second year. You got into the Chamber. Thanks, by the way, for killing me, again, and a thousand year old Basilisk.: Voldemort was clearly being sarcastic, and Harry did not appreciate it.

:You and your bloody Basilisk were trying to kill me! I'm the bloody Boy-Who-Won't-Die, what did you expect me to do? And get out of my mind, you bastard!:

:Are you finished?: Voldemort sounded really put-upon. Harry sighed in equal exasperation.

:As I was saying, you were able to get into the Chamber; you can get into here.:

:Um, I'm pretty sure Snape didn't place a Parseltongue password on the door to his office…:

:And that's where Parselmagic comes into play. Saying the word "open" in Parseltongue can be just that, a word, but if you put magic behind it, it becomes Parselmagic. Because it is so rare, and a different kind of magic all together—some would call it creature-like—most normal spells can't protect against it. Severus Snape is a smart and capable wizard: —this was said reluctantly— :but there are some things he cannot account or prepare for.:

Harry carefully absorbed what he was told. :So, I used Parselmagic to get into the Chamber of Secrets? How did I do that without knowing what I was doing in the first place?:

Voldemort flicked his tongue, the tips of it just brushing over Harry's cheek, causing it to twitch at the sensation. :You have to intend for what you say to act as a spell. Focus it. When you opened the Chamber, you intended for the passage to open, and so it did. Right now, if you intend for the door to open when you speak, it will.:

Harry was slightly awed by the prospects. He'd researched a little about being a Parseltongue, but, naturally, Hogwarts' library did not have much material to work with. He'd never known Parseltongue could do more than let him communicate with snakes.

:Won't Snape notice?:

:The spell won't act against the normal spell he placed on the door; therefore, as is, opening the door this way will be untraceable. So no, he won't.:

More assured yet still doubtful, Harry asked, :Do I need my wand? I guess I didn't really use it for the Chamber…:

:It helps at first, but you don't need it. Now get on with it, you're wasting time!:

Cocking his head at the door and lifting his wand, Harry mustered up the belief and anticipation for what should happen when he spoke, hoping he was doing it right. It shouldn't be that hard, he told himself, since he had done it when he was twelve without even knowing he was doing it in the first place.

:Open.: he hissed. Nothing happened. Well, damn.

:Focus, and try again,: Voldemort prodded, not necessarily gently but at least he didn't put more pressure on Harry, which the young man was grateful for.

Pursing his lips, Harry focused on the image of the door opening, believing it would, and hissed the word again.

:Open.: Immediately he noticed the difference from the last time, the slight tingle as magic flowed from his core and affected the environment around him with a free sort of current unlike the magic taught within the school. With sudden ease, Snape's office door swung open with minimal sound.

:Well done, Potter.: It was said with little enthusiasm, but Harry grinned at the compliment nonetheless and quickly slipped inside and shut the door again.

Once inside, Harry pulled off his Invisibility Cloak and draped it over his arm so he'd always have it within easy reach. He lifted his wand, the Lumos charm already glowing from the end, and inspected the room.

:Where should we start?:

Flicking his tongue, Voldemort said with a beleaguered tone, :The potions shelves.: The you dimwit was implied.

Nodding his head, Harry approached the wall that contained a multitude of vials and bottles of all sorts of shapes and sizes, each containing a colorful fluid. Some he recognized, but most he couldn't even dream of guessing at.

Working together, Voldemort rising up from his perch on Harry's shoulder and looking at the shelves above the ones Harry looked at, they went through every single potion in one section before moving on to another. Each glass was clearly labeled, so at least they weren't stumped on that aspect. Harry, having had questionable motivation to actually learn Potions, had to ask Voldemort what several of the concoctions were when he didn't recognize the name.

Soon, after several minutes of searching, it became clear that, while there were quite a variety of potions there, none of them were anything of particular rarity or interest, or even unknown. Harry postulated that maybe one of the vials was purposefully mislabeled, but Voldemort had another idea.

:He must have another place for the really interesting potions.:

Harry took a moment to digest that, before bemoaning, :Oh Merlin, do we have to break into his quarters now?: Harry winced, stepping away from the shelves and rubbing his forehead, brushing over the famous scar. :What do we do now? Like I said, we don't even know for sure if Snape's the one who dosed you. We could be on a wild goose chase.:

Voldemort was silent for several moments, his tongue rapidly flicking in and out of his mouth. Harry took that moment to check the Map, making sure Snape was still where they'd last saw him.

"Oh shit!"

As Harry's luck was fond of pissing on him at the most inconvenient times, naturally, when he checked the Map, Snape's footprints were no longer stationary in his room, but snaking through the dungeon corridors in a path that would lead right past his office. Whether or not he was actually going to stop there was unknown, but Harry wasn't going to take any chances. :We've got to go.:

:Wait! I can taste cold air and dirt. I think there is a room below this one.: His tongue flicked out again, perhaps to confirm his findings.

:I don't care, we can come back later. Snape's on his way here and I'd rather not get caught.:

Voldemort was clearly very unhappy as Harry tossed his Cloak over the two of them again and quickly left the room after making sure nothing was disturbed. Snape's magical lock automatically reinstated itself the moment he shut the door behind him. Observing the Marauder's Map, Harry watched as his name trailed away from Snape's. He felt justified in his hasty retreat when Snape stopped by his office door just a few moments after Harry had left and entered the room. The man wasn't in there long, though, before he continued walking in Harry's direction, much to Harry's dismay. Cursing, he powerwalked so as to put distance between them, not trusting his Invisibility Cloak to keep him completely undetected from Snape's perceptiveness.

Using the same system they had before, with Voldemort watching the Marauder's Map and Harry doing the walking, they retraced their steps to Gryffindor Tower.

Suddenly, Voldemort hissed, :Stop!: in Harry's ear, and the boy immediately froze and glanced down at the Map, trying to see what the problem was. Currently he was just outside the Great Hall, and coming in the opposite direction was Albus Dumbledore. Behind him, Snape was also approaching.

:I want to see what they're doing.: Hesitating before reluctantly nodding, Harry sidled up to a wall and pressed himself against it, covering himself in the shadows even though there was nothing visible of him for the shadows to actually hide. asked

:You think one of them might have fire-called the other?: Harry queried softly, a pair each of red and green eyes intently watching as the two dots got closer and closer until they intercepted each other. Voldemort didn't answer. Harry turned his attention to the real-life representative of the Map's dots as they came into view and tried to hear what they were saying.

"Severus, what seems to be the problem?" Dumbledore asked in his congenial manner.

The Potions Master looked around before silently casting a privacy charm. Harry cursed under his breath, but Voldemort told him to cast "Listen" in Parselmagic. It took two tries again, but immediately they could hear through the privacy barrier once it was cast.

"The wards in my office were tripped. I went to investigate but the intruder had left."

Inwardly, Harry winced. How could he have forgotten about wards? It probably goes to show how distracted Voldemort was to have forgotten too. Or maybe Snape was just more paranoid than they both considered him to be.

Dumbledore, however, seemed unconcerned. "Perhaps it was a rat. Was there anything disturbed or taken?"

Snape huffed. "The anti-theft wards were intact, so no. Headmaster, why did you not inform me of Potter's new…pet?"

Dumbledore twisted his blackened hand in front of him in a gesture of conciliation. "Ah yes, I see what you are getting at. I wanted to see if perhaps you'd ask the same questions I did. Has there been any sign of Voldemort since you administered the potion? By the way, well done, my boy. That had to have been difficult."

"Yes, it was," Snape drawled irritably. "House Elves are unendingly protective of the kitchens and the items within. I managed to pour some into the cream the night before."

Harry was glad he'd put a silencing charm on, because at this admission of guilt Voldemort had sibilated out a sharp hiss, spitting venom in the process. Without thinking, Harry lifted his hand and smoothed it down Voldemort's head and hood, trying to calm his temper, all the while thinking, 'He takes his tea with cream?' because he found that odd. For some reason, the unconscious gesture worked, though, and the snake went silent and focused on listening again.

"No sign," Snape reported, ignoring Dumbledore's compliments. "As I said, that despicable excuse for a wizard Wormtail claimed he killed a large white snake on the same day. I, of course, had the rat Obliviated. There were no remains as proof, though, but it hasn't been spotted since by those allowed into the Dark Lord's base, and Wormtail insisted it was dead."

"Hmm, if that is the case and that was Voldemort, then the result of the potion was certainly unexpected, among other things." Dumbledore said that in such a way, somewhat dry and huffy, that had Harry thinking he was missing something, but he hoped things would become clearer the more he listened.

"Apparently," Dumbledore continued, "we had not accounted for some aspect of how it would react with Voldemort's body and magic. A snake! Imagine that! I thought for sure that particular concoction would result in a transformation to the temporary body before the ritual with Harry, or even the shade from before that. The purpose of the potion was to use past weakened states as a template for transformation. Perhaps that was his Animagus form? Hmm. I wonder if the other…"

"Yes, yes, I know," Snape groused, interrupting whatever Dumbledore had to say and inserting his own words. "The counterpart would most likely give interesting results as well. In any case, it is of no consequence. What I need to know now is if you think Voldemort has been banished once more?"

Idly, Harry wondered at Dumbledore's word choice. Why "banished" and not "killed"?

"That would be the preferred case." Snape muttered something under his breath that Harry couldn't hear properly—something about "gone for good," and he decided he could probably fill in the rest.

Louder, Snape said, "But you're not sure. Don't you find it odd that days after Wormtail found a strange white snake in You-Know-Who's manor that the Potter boy should find one as well?"

Dumbledore seemed unaffected, as always. "Yes, it is a strange coincidence, isn't it? Coincidences are a tricky type of magic in this world. You don't really think Harry capable of assisting Voldemort, though, do you?"

Sneering, Snape said, "He's a Gryffindor; I would not put it past him to be that stupid."

Harry felt very affronted. Perhaps getting called stupid by Voldemort several times a day gave him a lowered tolerance for others calling him such. At that moment, Snape was officially off his "Do Not Touch" list for after Seventh Year. That git could fend for himself. Never mind that Harry actually was assisting Voldemort…but that was beside the point!

"For Voldemort to have made it all the way to Hogwarts as an ordinary snake in such short a time would be quite a feat. However, I put a binding spell on Harry and his snake as a precaution. I assure you, during the snake's 'probation' the next two weeks before break, the snake will not be able to get more than ten feet away from Harry. If someone had indeed gotten into your office, it is highly unlikely it was Harry's snake while Harry himself resides in Gryffindor Tower."

When Harry heard how Dumbledore spoke of the binding charm, he grew apprehensive about the implied danger to Voldemort should he decide to get away. Harry wouldn't put it past the man-snake to try. He then wondered if he feeling concern for the Dark Lord, but couldn't quite come to a conclusion about it. Around his neck, Voldemort remained uncharacteristically silent.

"What makes you trust that Potter wouldn't help the Dark Lord if he is that snake?"

From where Harry hid, he could just make out Dumbledore's serene expression firm up to something more serious. "Come now, Severus, we must trust Harry. He is the only one capable of defeating Lord Voldemort, and if he really is banished once more, then Harry will have the time to complete his task."

Bless Dumbledore and his guilt-inducing speeches. Harry frowned, pushing the feelings aside to hear what else may be said.

"I still think putting all your hopes on a boy is extremely foolish."

Dumbledore's face was once more jovial. "Ah, but Harry is no ordinary boy, is he? Come now, it is late. I'll see you in the morning, Severus."

Snape mumbled a cheerless goodnight before rotating on his heels and heading back down to the dungeons. Dumbledore went back to where he came from as well, leaving Harry and Voldemort alone in the dark.

:Well?:

Voldemort flicked his tongue. :How very curious,: the snake hissed almost absently.

:Um, hello, Tom, the potion? Were you at all paying attention, because you don't seem to care too much.:

:Of course I care, you brat, but there were some other interesting bits of information divulged as well.:

:Huh,: Harry mused, :Like how I apparently am the only one who can kill you? Me, a sixteen year old kid with hardly a fraction of knowledge as you do?:

:It appears you may be more than you seem.:

Harry scoffed and threw up his hands. :Not you too! I figured of all people you would refuse to see me as a title such as the Boy-Who-Lived, the Chosen One, or the Savior. In reality, I'm nothingspecial.:

'Why am I telling the Dark Lord this exactly?' Harry exasperatedly remarked to himself.

Voldemort's tongue flicked out in a curious sort of way. :You survived the Killing Curse.:

:You know what Dumbledore thinks? He thinks it's the power of love that I have which will defeat you. What am I supposed to do, hug you to death? I survived that Killing Curse because my mother sacrificed herself for me. You listened to only part of that bloody prophecy and lo and behold, it was self-fulfilling. If you hadn't gone there that night I wouldn't have been marked as your so called equal and you'd probably be ruling the world right now.:

Voldemort was contemplatively silent for a moment before hissing softly, :You know the prophecy, don't you?:

'Oh shit!' Harry thought. 'I didn't mean to say so much…'

:You mean you didn't get that from my head?: Harry asked, stalling.

:No. Tell me, Potter, what does it say?: the snake-man said sweetly. Er, sweeter than normal, that is.

Harry sighed. Oh well, in for a penny, in for a pound. Maybe Voldemort will finally realize everything was his fault for even listening to the stupid Prophecy in the first place.

:After the Ministry last year, Dumbledore took me into his office and showed me the memory of when the prophecy was first spoken,: Harry explained.

Shutting his eyes, he whispered, "The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies."

Harry hated that prophecy. Because of it, his whole life had been one huge disappointment. Dumbledore thinks it's his ability to love that will defeat Lord Voldemort, whatever that means. In reality, Harry barely knew it; he grew up in a loveless household, and even now he's not sure how pure the love he and his friends share. Sometimes it seemed it was only a conditional love, instead of unconditional. A marriage of convenience. Other times they were the best friends in the world. It was so confusing.

Voldemort gave a delicate snort, breaking Harry from his brooding. :You are not my equal.:

:Yeah? Tell Dumbledore that, because he seems to think this prophecy is accurate. I would argue that my supposed secret power is dumb luck, but I think, if anything, you do know that,: Harry derided.

:Yes, very irritating, that is. But let us leave this subject for now, as it is getting us nowhere, and get back to the Tower.:

:Yes, Master,: Harry grumbled mockingly, checking the Map before heading off.

Once safely ensconced in his bed, Voldemort curled up in front of Harry, red eyes gleaming. They were now able to discuss what they had overheard about the potion Snape used.

:From what I gather, the intention of the potion was to transform a person into a past weakened state. The results of such could range widely, depending on the person, as there are all sorts of weaknesses a person could be subjected to.:

Harry considered this, weighing it against his own assumptions he'd made from what he overheard from Dumbledore. :I think you're right. But, wouldn't most people simply revert back to infanthood? That seems like the weakest state possible.:

Voldemort bobbed his small head. :Perhaps, but like I stated, it would depend on the person. I have to admit, Severus Snape is a brilliant Potion's Master. The potion he gave me is powerful in that it is unspecific. Something like that would be very difficult to brew, let alone invent, if that is what Snape has done. It would require more than a little bit of magic siphoned into it, as well.:

:How is it 'unspecific'?:

:Think about it; your observation of infanthood being a person's most weakest state is accurate, but say a person went through a period of depression? In that case, they are emotionally weak, and may in fact meet the terms for the potion. Or, perhaps a person was temporarily blinded, or cursed. I suspect Snape's potion could bring a person back into any of those states. I imagine it might even be able to kill, if there was a person who had died but was brought back to life before the soul had a chance to depart fully. Whatever it is, it must be a state of almost complete helplessness, is my conclusion.:

Harry was just beginning to wrap his head around the whole concept. :So, for me my weakened state might not be as a baby, but maybe how I am when Dementors are around, or when this one particular bastard possesses me.:

Voldemort had the audacity to chuckle. Harry shot him a glare.

:But for you, Snape and Dumbledore meant for it to revert you back to that…whatever body you had before Wormtail tossed you in the cauldron the night of the Third Task, or into that spirit form. Why did you turn into a snake, then?:

:To explain: it is simply my most weakened state. Even I would not have accounted for this outcome, but now that I contemplate it, it makes sense. While I was in spirit form, I wasn't completely helpless as I could possess other wizards, and while in the temporary form I was able to access my magic. Both states I had to rely on my followers, but only to an extent. So instead, the potion drew forth the snake portion of myself Dumbledore had not accounted for. I suspect my magic had tried to protect me, but because the potion is not magically inert—as I said, most likely requiring it while being brewed—my magic reacted badly and thus gave the volatile potion the power to give me a truly weakened form. As I am now, I'm at my most weak. After all, I have to rely on you, not my followers, but my enemy. Only you can understand me, and only you might be able to help me.:

Harry was awed. :That's…that's something,: he responded inelegantly.

:Yes,: Voldemort hissed. :That potion is indeed a significant piece of magic and skill.:

The two sat in silence for several moments. :They mentioned a counterpart potion,: Harry finally said.

:They did,: Voldemort agreed, :but I am unsure if he spoke of it theoretically or if there really is one. I am certain Snape had a hidden storage cellar under his office. Many Potion Masters do. There was a current of air that did not fit with the rest of the room. If anything, he would keep it there.:

Harry sighed. :We made a mistake tonight forgetting about the wards and…oh, please, don't give me that look, even Dark Lords can slip-up. Anyway, we're going to have to lay low before we try again. Christmas break is in two weeks, and by then the Binding spell Dumbledore put on us will have dissolved. We can try again then, since I'll be staying in the castle.:

'Yeah,' Harry thought glumly. 'There is no way I'm going to the Weasley's for the hols this year…not if it's with Voldemort.'

Voldemort grumbled but had to acquiesce. Suddenly, he cocked his head in an odd manner and focused his scarlet eyes on Harry.

:Did you know he's dying?:

Harry frowned, startled. :Who?:

:Dumbledore,: the snake said matter-of-factly. :His blackened hand is the result of a dark curse. It seems the Headmaster has been prying into things he shouldn't.: Voldemort dark tone implied that he knew more, and was very angry about something, but Harry was too stunned to bother asking.

"He's dying?" Harry whispered. "I don't believe you."

"Then you are a fool."

The worst part was, that was the thing Harry could believe.

Harry shook his head dumbly. Not Dumbledore! The man, while externally looked wizened, to Harry he seemed timeless, some constant that would always be there. That seemingly wise old man who, Harry had eventually come to understand, could be just as blind as Voldemort about how the world works. The man had made mistakes, but he's allowed that; it's a right of being human.

But now he was dying?

It would be the end of an era. Dumbledore had been the icon of the Light for decades now, ever since his defeat of Grindelwald. If Dumbledore died, where would that leave them? Panic began to rise in Harry's throat.

But then he focused on Voldemort again and forced himself to calm down. He needed to look at things rationally, to pull himself away from the immediate reaction and to think, because now there was a bigger picture that he'd been missing all along…the missing piece of the puzzle he didn't know he'd been stupidly sitting on was now retrieved and put in its rightful place now.

Dumbledore had been trying to tell him something, to teach Harry something about Voldemort. He had known that ever since the Headmaster had brought him to his office to look at old memories about the very enemy sitting on Harry's bed. He was trying to impart Harry with some sort of knowledge before he died. But what? And why was he doing it in this odd, roundabout way? Harry was all for figuring out things for himself, but sometimes it was just simpler to have someone figure it out for him, especially if time was of the essence.

Whatever it was, Dumbledore was letting him find it out on his own, and Harry wasn't sure if he was meant to before or after Dumbledore's death. In any case, Dumbledore's and Snape's plan to weaken Voldemort was beginning to make more sense. While Dumbledore's time was running short, he apparently was trying to ensure Harry's ran a little longer. Harry didn't understand things yet, but he knew Dumbledore purposely withheld information from him. It was just the way the old man worked. It irked Harry, but in the end he had decided that as long as he understood this, he would let the Headmaster play by his rules…for now.

Voldemort was growing impatient with the silence. :You're not going to cry on me, are you Potter?:

Harry wondered at the crassness but then remembered this was the Dark Lord, being a bastard was just in his nature and he couldn't care one bit if Dumbledore died. Still in a slight bit of shock, Harry shook his head.

:No, don't worry, I wouldn't want to cause you any emotional pain in return.:

:Spare me, Potter. And good, because I don't want to have to deal with your blubbering over the next Merlin knows how long.:

:Oh, don't worry,: Harry told him with watery cheerfulness, pushing aside all thoughts of Dumbledore. :The weeks will fly by, especially when you're having fun with me!:

Voldemort hissed out a moan. :Weeks! My Death Eaters are going to get themselves killed, I just know it, while you remain within my reach and I cannot even touch you.:

:Look on the brightside,: Harry said. :You'll have lots of time to build your troops back up while I finish school.:

:Go to sleep, brat.:

:Yes, Master.:

Ok, that was chapter 3! I hope you liked it, and now the plot can move forward a bit. I'm a bit worried about the reactions to it being Snape and Dumbledore but future chapters will hopefully make it alright.

Also, I'm at a point in future chapters where I could make this an M rated story...would people like this? I can always put warnings around any scenes for those who don't read that. Let me know!

Until next week (I really like chapter 4...)

Edited 6/19/12