disclaimer: see chapter one

warnings: male/male

parseltongue

Chapter 3

It was late at night or early morning depending on one's view, when the ruling couple retired to their bed chamber.

Since it was only the two of them on the whole seventh floor of the palace, at any time of any day, curses and magical scanners ensuring that there would be no trespassers of any nature, Harry allowed the fake expression of happiness he had worn during the whole ball to fade back into the mask of indifference he had cultivated in the last two years.

He didn't know what he hated more, the fake public displays of affection or the only too true happenings that took place every night. The look in his eyes grew even colder and more distant with every step he took into their rooms.

Crossing through the lavishly decorated ante-room, Harry started to unfasten the clasps, buttons and straps on his robes. When the robes fell open they revealed his unmarred, lily white chest and a pair of deep black pants.

Just as he reached the door to the actual bedroom, a heavy hand fell on his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.

"I don't remember giving you permission to go to sleep, yet."

Harry let the hands steer him back to the armchairs on front of the fireplace that made sure their rooms where sufficiently warm. His hands rose to re-fasten his clothes, but another hissed order made them fall back to his sides.

"I rather like the way you look, kitten, and there's no need to be shy between the two of us."

Shrugging unconcernedly, Harry sat down in the left armchair that was angled to give whoever sat on the other one a lovely view of the seated. In the earlier days he had been so disconcerted by Voldemort's open staring an leering whenever he ordered Harry to sit there, that he had tried to displace the armchair at least a couple of degrees to make the angle of sight a bit less intruding, but it had been magically secured in place.

Nowadays the young wizard didn't let little things like that ruffle his feathers anymore. He had painfully learned that he did better to save his strength for the big battles and simply concede defeat in the smaller ones.

Voldemort let his crimson gaze wander appreciatively over the sight his young consort made, relaxing in the armchair like he had no care in the world as he was, open green robes artistically framing white, unblemished skin, their colour highlighting the arctic green eyes that openly returned his stare.

His kitten was a picture of debauchery and he couldn't wait to claim his price once again. He was sure he would never grow tired of it for the rest of all eternity. But business came first: "So, what did you think of the ball, kitten?"

The younger wizard finally lowered his gaze, turning it to the happily burning fire instead. And what wonderful shadows those flames cast on his lightly muscled abdomen.

"It was a success, just as I predicted, Milord." His kitten's voice washed over him like music, melodic as it was. It had grown slightly deeper in recent years, but Voldemort welcomed the change. Not only were the sounds that voice produced in the bedroom even more satisfying, but it aided Voldemort's plans for the future and his kitten's role in them quite beautifully. No one took a young looking dignitary with a teenager's voice seriously, no matter how overwhelming his magical presence was.

"You mean just as you promised." he reminded his consort lightly, finally sitting down in his own armchair.

"The laws you enacted and enforced have strengthened the people's belief that despite having declared yourself a Dark Lord you will be a just and competent ruler. People do not rally to rebel against a system that appears just. More importantly, foreign nationswill not be easily convinced to take action against a system that appears just in its own way."

"Speaking of foreign nations, I hope you are prepared to do your duty when I send you to the continent next month." A subtle warning underlined his sentence, reflected in the merciless gaze of his crimson eyes.

His kitten merely sighed, then turned his head to meat Voldemort's gaze again.

"You know as well as I do just how futile any subterfuge on my part would be. My mind is an open book to you. My body needs yours to survive. My soul and life are magically bound to yours. Do you still need to be so paranoid?"

Voldemort's eyes narrowed predatorily and a delighted smile curled his lips. His kitten had learned well when and where he could show his claws without fear of retribution, equals indeed.

"I am a Dark Lord."

"And you have made me your consort instead of your pet." was the unabashed answer.

"I will truly miss your presence when you start teaching at Hogwarts next week." the older wizard mused, before standing up and reaching out for his companion with his right hand, the demand to follow him unspoken.

Obediently the dark haired young man took the hand and allowed Voldemort to pull him to his chest and to claim his lips in a possessive kiss. One hand loosened the tie that held his kitten's dark locks back; the other explored and caressed the planes of his chest.

"Now we will retire to the bedroom, kitten."

Severus Snape looked disbelievingly at his superior. "You cannot be serious, Minerva." he gasped.

"I assure you, Severus, I am deadly serious. Do you really think I would ever jest about something like that?" there was a sour note in McGonagall's voice and Severus tried to overcome his shock enough to placate her.

"I know, I know. It is just…"

"Apparently there will be a new course added to the curriculum this year, which Mr. Potter will teach. It is called "culture" and will be mandatory for all years. They will be taught modern, proper etiquette, Wizarding laws and modern politics." she explained further, giving her deputy headmaster a significant look.

"Since it will be taught by Mr. Potter the course will be above question, I see." he replied thoughtfully, a cold weight of dread settling deep in his stomach. "I'm afraid the Dark Lord is even more cunning than anyone ever gave him credit for. He's going to change the way whole generations of the brightest and most powerful Wizarding children in Britain think and feel, moulding them in the image of his new empire."

For the first time McGonagall looked every year of her age, her face paling rapidly and her eyes growing dim.

"Tell me about the ball last night, please. I do not wish to think about Britain's future any more today."

"What is there to tell? It was a congregation of fools and sharks. They danced, they dined, they intrigued and they tried to worm their way into the Dark Lord's consort's favour." he answered waspishly, disdain dropping from every single word.

"It is true then, he has taken a consort. Who is it?"

"Why, come September he will be one of your teachers, Minerva." And Severus would have the opportunity to get to the ground of Potter's puzzling remarks.

Severus let his gaze wander out of the window and into the distance. Maybe, just maybe not all hope was lost, yet.

TBC