None of the Characters belong to me, but J.K. Rowlings, The Harry Potter series. Please enjoy.
Harry slowly woken up, his head felt heavy and groggy. His vision was was blurry, realizing that he had no glasses on. His memories were coming back through, and he remembered what had happened, and what a dream it was. Once his head became less hazily, he blindly search for his glasses, once found he searched around… this wasn't his room. I swore that was just a dream, Harry thought to himself. But, it wasn't, because he checked injured arm, which was wrapped in bandages. After what Voldemort did to him, he didn't remember what happened, if he was rescued from the terror or not.
The room looked unfamiliar, so he obviously wasn't in at Hermione's (because it wasn't a Muggle styled home) or at the Borrow (the Weasley's family home). So, where was he? He got up slowly, his leg almost gave out do to weakness. Once his legs were able to handle themselves, he began to walk towards the bedroom door. He turned it and walked out into a small narrow hallway. The woods were a dark color, wallpaper (which were probably old because Harry never seen such wallpaper before) was a warm green color. Was he at Prof. Snape's house, did he get the chance to convince Voldemort to take him away to a safer place? So he walked down the hallway, where light was coming from. As soon he got to the end of the hallway, he was at the stairs which opened to the entrance way of the house.
He walked down the stairs slowly, absorbing his surroundings, awestruck at how grand the entrance way was, especially with the big golden chandelier that made the room very bright. I'm definitely in a wizards home, Harry continue to talk to himself, but, whose house is this? He walked to the door entrance and tried to open it but, as soon as he touched the door knob he was shocked and then an alarm went off. It was so loud that Harry covered his ears.
"Oh, for Merlin's sake!" yelled an aggravated person. "Silencio!" The alarm immediately went off. Harry looked up to see who it was; his face gone pale as Voldemort stood before him. "I thought you would be smart enough to know this house would be warded to keep in from the outside world and keep people from coming in, Mr. Potter."
"I thought I was somewhere else," Harry honestly answered. "I thought I was-"
"Rescued?" Voldemort finished for him. "Now how would you have been rescued?"
"Think Snape might had a heart to return me to my home, or at least to Hogwarts."
Voldemort shook his head. "While he was next to his master? Please, yes he has a heart but, he also has a brain too you know. He wouldn't dare try to betrayed me, even if he wanted to. No, after we bandaged you up, I brought you to my secret hideout where not even Severus could even find. No one knows but, Nagini and I. And to give you also another thought, if you did manage to escape, there is no civilization near us for 100 of miles. The only way to go somewhere is by Apparating, which you are too young to know how to do."
"Why did you let me live?" Harry asked out of nowhere, wondering in the back of his what Apparating was?
Voldemort smiled. "I have my own reasons not to kill you. You're more valuable to me alive than dead. Especially to the research I have been doing since my escape from the diary."
"What's the research on?"
"None of your business," Voldemort plainly stated. "That's something you will have to figure out on your own while you stay with me. Now, come along, you must be hungry since you've slept for two days."
Two days? I've been under Voldemort's care for two days! He couldn't believe it, he was stuck in the middle of nowhere as a prisoner with younger version of Voldemort. He couldn't believe that he, a trained assassin, is now a prisoner. He's never been kidnapped before, and never had a plan to escape from one, since it was never necessary in the past. But, he never thought of being kidnapped by a wizard, and because he was still new to the Wizard World, he only has little knowledge about wards and how use spells to break certain wards. Speaking of spells, where's my wand?
"Did I bring my wand with me?" Harry looked at his clothes, realizing he was in a pyjama shirt and boxers, instead of his assassin uniform. "Because you were the one who changed me into new clothes, so I thought you would of search for more weapons."
"Yes," Voldemort replied. "I did change you clothes, I only found a few weapons but, no wand was there. Don't worry, your magic is kind of useless since you only know so very little anyways."
Harry glared at Voldemort. "But, I did have Severus secretly retrieve your belongings, receiving your wand for me. Only school stuff, even your uniforms, were only received, your clothes that your relatives made you wear were burnt, I have clothes that might actually fit you properly."
Harry was now angry. "Those were the only clothing that I had on me! Where is my wand?!"
Voldemort only gave Harry a cheeky smile. "Now why would I tell you where that was, when I'm trying to prevent you from trying to hexing me?"
"Give me my wand, now."
Voldemort only stared at Harry for moment, until he replied. "Not until I can trust you not to try and hex me, or try to escape. You want your wand back, you need to play Slytherin and obey my rules."
"Fuck you," Harry retorted back. "I won't be like some sorry little puppy and follow you around until I get something I want! If I want it, I will get it one way or another, after all, I was train by gang members, if I recall."
"You're right," Voldemort said, Harry smile devilishly thinking he won this. "You're not a sorry little puppy that would follow me around to receive his treat." Now Harry gave a confused look. "You are a little kitten who's being train to be obedient but, is reckless and always tries to be the courageous cat so he can achieve at his goal, and won't stop, even given punishment. Like I told time and again, you're a little kitten, a mere child."
Harry growled. "At least I'm not sticking my tail between my legs like your pathetic Death Eaters. I won't become that kind of person."
"I'm not asking you to turn into me Death Eaters, I'm only giving you a suggestion to listen to me rules, so you and I can live in peace. Even if you like it or not."
Harry snorted. "It's not my peace, it's your peace. You can't handle people who rebel against you, because you're losing that power of control over a twelve, soon to be thirteen, year old boy."
"I'm surprised."
"What?" Harry asked confused.
"You didn't yell at me for calling you a kitten," Voldemort chuckled.
"Shut up, Tom!" Harry yelled back. "I'm so certainly not a kitten!"
"But, you're stubborn as one," Voldemort replied, as if it was very obvious. "Kittens are very stubborn, they don't ever try to give up until the achieve their goals to become stronger and better. Just like you. And watching a kitten do it is very funny. Watching you trying to achieve, whatever goal you have, is hilarious too. Hence, you're just like a kitten."
Voldemort left the hallway down towards what was probably the kitchen, leaving Harry gaping at what Voldemort just stated to him. Voldemort was treating him as some kind of joke, teasing him for being such a small curious child, asking for trouble. Most of the time, trouble ends up finding him. But, it was the fact he was just insulted by the most powerful Dark Lord, continuing to call him a kitten. Did Voldemort make a mocking joke, no fucking way?
He walked passed a very small dining room in a decent size kitchen, where Voldemort sat at the breakfast table, the Daily Prophet in hand, and coffee right next to him. He seems more human, no fucking way is he human in anyway. Harry sat across from Voldemort at the breakfast table, gazing out the sunny window. But, something was wrong, didn't Voldemort say they were hundreds of miles away from any nearby village or anything civilized.
"It's an illusion charm," Voldemort stated, as if he read Harry's mind. "It's to make sure you don't know your surroundings, fake village few is what you see."
Harry nodded in response. "So, what do you want to eat for breakfast?"
"I'm not hungry…."
"You're not hungry?" Voldemort repeated in question format. Which Harry hates when people do that to him.
"Yes, I"m not hungry," Harry said annoyed. "Are you deaf or something?"
Voldemort gave him a warning glance. "I heard you, I was asking rhetorically. It wasn't meant to be answered. But, why aren't you hungry? You haven't eaten a meal in two days."
"Maybe something is disturbing my appetite," Harry then realized that he said his thought aloud, covering his mouth as if realizing he made a mistake. "Sorry, it I didn't mean to-"
"Save your breath, Potter," Voldemort stated, venom in his tone. "I don't need to hear to your sniveling sorry. I knew you didn't mean to say it out loud, all though kittens tend to act even though don't mean to."
"Will you stop calling me a fucking kitten for Merlin's sake?!" Harry huffed in annoyance.
"No," Voldemort answered. "Not until you stop acting like one. And once again and I'm asking once, or I'll choose for you and force feed you. What do YOU want to eat?"
Harry glared daggers at Voldemort, who also gave him an equal glare back. It was like that for a few minutes, until Harry's stomach growled loudly. Upon realizing what just happened, Harry flushed a deep red, Voldemort gave his victorious smile. "Are you sure you're not hungry?"
Still flushing but glaring at Voldemort, Harry responded, "I'm not hungry."
"Maybe I know the reason why you aren't," Voldemort stated. "Because you hardly eat decent enough that body may not handle solids correctly. So, how about we try something small, light, but filling?"
Harry only glared at Voldemort as he got up to the stove. "Maybe some oatmeal will satisfy your hunger, with a little bit of cinnamon and fresh sliced apples for some flavoring. This will fill you up, also preventing from hurting your stomach."
About five minutes after that, the kitchen began to smell like oatmeal, Voldemort was cooking; slicing the apples and stirring the oatmeal as often as he can. He took out other needed ingredients, and it was making Harry's stomach roaring for food. But, no, Harry wasn't going to beg for food, not even if Voldemort was volunteeringly making it for Harry. But the smell… it was so tempting for Harry, so tempting to have. But… what if Tom was poisoning it with something? Although, as far as he could see, Tom didn't add anything that seemed poisonous, encourage him not to take the offering food. But, the smell was still mocking him, what was Voldemort was playing at?
Voldemort turned around, as if he heard Harry's, looking what was concern for the young wizard, Harry flushed at the thought that Voldemort was looking at him worriedly, and just turned his attention towards the illusion window. A moment later, Voldemort served both Harry and himself and sat at the table putting Harry's bowl at Harry's end. "Eat, I know you are hungry, and I won't have a hungry child running around my home. Eat it and I won't have to touch you to force it down you throat of yours," The threat seemed to work, and Harry began to slowly and enjoyed the popping flavor of oatmeal for breakfast. Voldemort, for the most part was an excellent cook but, that doesn't mean Harry wasn't going to attempt to make Voldemort's life a living nightmare. Their war was just too about to begin.