Title: Let Us Learn How To Waltz
Summary: Does Harry have a Muggle life? Does Voldemort have a muggle life? We have to second gguess our answers when we see them both in the night club Unrestrained.
Rating: M for mature
Warnings: Yaoi, sexual situations, Cross dressing
Authors: Anna Tramell, Meikouaikitsune
Beta: Anna Tramell, Meikouhaikitsune


This is a co-write with Anna Tramell and Meikouhaikistune.


Harry sat in his flat, an adorable look on his face as he thought. A hand was weaving through his hair as he sat in the silence. He wanted to be Lillian, he wouldn't give that up for the world, but if people who were against him kept running into him; he'd be in another world of trouble. He sighed as he picked up a brush.

It didn't help that Lord Voldemort was acting like a hormonal teenager.

But... really... what did it matter? If Lord Voldemort couldn't see who he really was... if he just kept denying... just what was the purpose of even continuing it. It would only hurt...
Harry/Lillian stroked the brush through his long hair, as his own thoughts engulfed him with misery.

Though he realized on some point it did matter, or he wouldn't be sitting here, nervously running a brush through his hair...but that was just another thing Voldemort could make him do with out even knowing.

He could set his emotions...his body...his heart, a flame and only his touch cooled them down while a lighting his body again. Voldemort was an illusionist though; he would not accept what he would not allow himself to believe. So they were at a stalemate.

And until then... what was he supposed to do?

Harry's eyes closed, as if somehow trying to hold in the painful tears creeping down his coloured cheeks. I wish I knew why I love him so much…

Yet at the same time his consciousness was telling him that he really didn't want to know. To know why the darkness ensnared him, or why the pain excited him. He was going in circles and the more he realized it the more frustrated he became.

If ever Voldemort came to him again, hoping to play a child's game like they had before, he would be hitting the mattress hard until he screamed that he understood.

Screaming and screaming, until his mind broke and his hands reached toward the bottle with a prayer. Just make this pain go away - make me forgot. I don't know if I still want to remember!

The smooth liquid was harsh against his throat and burned as he took many strong gulps before slowing down. This wasn't right and he knew it, but it would help and that's all that would matter, he thought; slowly taking another sip of the Vodka bottle in hand.

Someone was knocking on the door... his eyes flew from the wooden frame to the clock. He was sprawled out now across his chair; the vodka bottle lying half-finished just outside his reach.

"Lillian! We've got a show in two minutes!"

Harry stared blankly at the door... was there even a point...?

No...There wasn't, he sighed as he stood, he threw on a pair of cargo pants, and a tight tank; his hair finding its way into a high pony tail as he forced his feet into a pair of boots. Today his fans would meet Lillian at his worst.

She heard her name announced and came into view on the stage. A foot from the mike and

Lillian stumbled, catching herself on the long poled-object. She grinned weakly.

Lillian chuckled into the mic, swaying slightly as he clung to his mic.

"Ever just have one of those days when you positively just HAD to drink your self into a stupor? Well today was my day. Hopefully it doesn't affect this concert." He closed his eyes as the music began.

"We got disappointed but that was alright
We turned out alright
It was a different life
When we were boys and girls
Not just a different time
It was a different world
No bottled water
We'd drink from a garden hose
And every Sunday,
All the stores were closed.
It was a different life
When we were boys and girls
Not just a different time
It was a different world..." The crowd erupted into cheers, the strobes flashing wildly around the area.

"Hey, calm down!" he shouted into the mic good heartedly. "Alright, this song means a lot. Before Voldemort. I can't believe you fear his name. Came into the picture, life was carefree. There wasn't a fear that ruled our every decision. I understand you're scared, but would you rather die unfulfilled or doing something you love? Think about it, and - I'll see you all next time!" He yelled, stumbling off stage as he apparated back to his flat, ignoring everyone as he groaned into his pillows.

"I'm going to have one hell of a hang over in the morning."

The 'concert' that the fans were misfortune to watch, would be the most talked about one of the century.

Voldemort stirred the comical-looking umbrella around his drink, his eyes glazed far from the scene. A loud band was performing, but he heard nothing. Not the off-beat drums or the out-raged crowd. His thoughts were only on Lillian.

He had missed Lillian's performance, well, he had resisted going until the last possible minute and now he hated himself for it. He wanted to see Lillian, he wanted to see Harry.

Harry, he said firmly in his mind. Harry...

Harry was the one that he had been with, the one he was falling so hard for. Harry...

He tipped the entire drink over and let the fire burn down his throat. But it wasn't enough.

He needed more. He waved vaguely toward the bar-tender but the man shook his head sternly.

So he had reached his limit, hm? Oh silly bartender, he had only one drink...

He flourished his concealed wand and grimly smiled at the refill.

The reason he had the man he was falling for hardly playing with his heart. His need to want, his need to have, his need to take and not care of the consequences. If he could prove to Harry that he was honest maybe Harry would allow him in. He put his wand away, reminding himself that Crucio couldn't fix everything. He sighed and he walked out of the club. He knew Harry Potter's magical signature like the back of his hand. With a deep breath his disappeared.

The vodka bottle lay empty, Harry smiled weakly at the impending presence he then felt. It's him... Harry fully grinned as the man came into presence.

"So tell me, who am I today?"

Voldemort stared down at the boy sprawled across the bed.

"Harry, I-" His eyes caught the empty bottle. "Harry..."

Harry cocked his head to the side, still lying hap hazardously on his chair. The movements making him look smug...sexy...tempting...and dangerous. Most of all jealous.

"The Dark Lord Voldemort, speechless. Oi I wish I had a muggle camera for years to come. The look on your face is worth more that any words you could say. Now get out. I don't need to hear you convince yourself you're infatuated with Harry and not Lillian; because if you haven't been present. I am Lillian, I am Harry. I will always be who I am, because I am what you've caused me to become."

Voldemort refused to move. Instead, he lifted the bottle.

"I have no need to convince myself, Harry." He grasped the bottle hard until it shattered in his hands. "And I know now that I have wasted my time. With you in this state, we can not talk. Lay back, Harry."

Harry stared warily at the man.

"Just what do you mean you're wasting your time?"

"I mean," he elaborated, "With you drunk, I can't see us talking civilized. Lie back, and rest. I'll come back later."

Harry, instead, leaned up.

"Why would you want to just talk?"

The boy wasn't right in his mind... but then again... neither was he...

"Because...I don't want you to think that I can't be...infatuated with you because I can't accept who you are, Harry. I can though and I only wish for you too believe me. You're pissed though, so coming here was a mistake I suppose."

The words didn't connect. He glared up at the man. Talking so goddamn fast...

Harry tugged at the man, trying to bring him down on top of him.

"You're just a liar, you don't know what the hell you're talking about," he growled, and yet he continued desperately to bring the man closer.

Voldemort chuckled as he complied, straddling the younger man, who by words was forcing him away, but by actions was pulling him closer.

"Why are you arguing with yourself, Harry?" The mentioned moaned when he finally had the weight on top of him.

"Because I'm drunk and difficult, now shut up." He hissed, pulling Voldemort roughly by what he assumed was his hair into a kiss, but his hands passed through the glamour and he felt the scaly skin that was Voldemort's and moaned heatedly.

There was yet another knock on the door that was from the manager, but it was ignored as Voldemort unstrung Harry's attire until a bare chest gave away for his hands to roam.

"Lillian! It's the Daily Prophet, open up sweetie - come on! Have you been in contact with Voldemort, Lillian??"

Harry grinned into the kiss and pulled at the cape that so often his lover adorned.

Harry pulled back when the knocking continued and rolled his eyes, grinning.

"Bugger off you high-strung prats! I'm busy." and that was the end of it because before he knew it, those cold silky hands were back on him, and those lips were back on him, and the forked tongue that was hotter then the stars was in his mouth again.

Here again, satisfying the lust that had been falling upon his body so often. The man he loved more than many could comprehend. Only moments before, he had yelled bitterly at the man and now that sinful tongue was crammed desperately against his own.

Right now, I don't care. At a time like this, who'd want to think logically?

No, he'd pull away their barriers and allow the man to drive hard inside him and he wouldn't question it... because this just simply was a moment he never wanted to let go, and he wouldn't if he didn't have to. The knocks against his door and the yells from reporters were ignored as the two grinded against one another, Harry's mouth finding the side of Voldemort's neck. Biting harshly, Voldemort moaning at the sensation, Harry licked and bit the wound continuously. Loving the feeling of Voldemort compliant in his hands.

"Are you just going to tease me?" he heard that silky voice asked, "Or are you going to wait until I beg?"

Harry smiled in a lopsided style. His hands roamed the arched, warm back, and then fell silent, his eyes flittered close.

"I just… want to be with you..." before the man could answer, Harry's body fell limp under his arms - he had passed straight out-cold.

Voldemort smiled softly to himself. Harry had to trust him on some level to leave himself this vulnerable. His last words punched him in the stomach though; I just want to be with you... He pressed a soft kiss to the knocked out man and stood, carrying Harry bridle style around the flat until he found the oversized bed, in the empty bedroom. He set Harry down softly and almost walked away before he seemed to snap himself back into reality. He lay down as well, and smiled though he was uncomfortable; as Harry wrapped his arms around him. Perhaps he could deal with this...perhaps he could love Harry and not just Lillian. A possessive feeling came over him as he wrapped his arm around the other man, holding him tightly. Very soon he fell asleep, comfortable, trustingly, willingly.

The door broke off its hinges and there was a sight to behold. Lord Voldemort, with Harry Potter tucked in his arms possessively.

"Just wait till the Ministry hears about this!" an excited Rita Skeeter announced.

She yelled when the door slammed itself back into place. Looking back to the picture she stumbled in on. She saw Harry Potter, a benevolent sight to behold as he looked at her from beneath his lashes. His wand held firm.

"I never did like you...Avada...Kedavra." he said playfully, and she fell into her death. Her body thudding against the ground loudly.

"Nicely played," Voldemort purred.

Harry grinned slyly back.

"At least we've got our privacy again."

The man wanted to argue that the boy had momentarily passed out... but then... the young boy's lips usually halted all protests. Halted they did, it was almost as if time had stopped, because instead of the earlier urgency. There was sweet bliss in those lips. Like euphoria embodied. He could get high off of kisses like these. And... maybe he really did. His brain refused to concentrate fully. It was hazy... dream-like and gods, he never wanted it to end.

He almost whimpered when it did, but he was Voldemort and that was shamefully. He growled and went after those sinful lips again, moaning wantonly as Harry gripped his ass, pulling him harshly and as close as possible.

Hold this lifeless body to your own/Let's not try to understand what's happening between us
I just want to be with you

Harry looked smug as the two separated, Voldemort's glamour slowly slipping away with his mental comprehension. His read eyes were silted, slightly dilated. His breathing was heavy and he seemed to be confused, he gripped Harry's shirt and did in fact whimper as a thin finger slid into him.

Harry smiled down at the man and captured his lips, moving another finger within the man.

"You're the only one I want... Voldemort."

"Never, Tom." He continued, "Just you." The man above him moaned heatedly, the lube on Harry's fingers allowing him to push back on them much easier, then he had thought possible. Everything hurt far less then he ever thought it could. He froze, moaning as something inside of him shot pleasure through out his body. His muscles tightening as Harry's fingers stayed in place. The green-eyed man nibbling softly on his neck, grinding against the man's leg; his fingers resuming their movements.

"How would you like me inside of you?" Harry teased, swirling his fingers within in. The other hand ran up a stiff organ, hard as his own.

"You'd...be the only." Voldemort moaned brokenly rocking into the different sensations as Harry added another finger. His lips and teeth playing Voldemort's ear.

"Then... I'll make it... memorable..." Harry's fingers scissored at the opening, moving inside the heated flesh over and over slickly. "I'll have you come under my touch..." He prodded the erection teasingly.

"I - ah - never thought Harry Potter would be one to mercilessly tease his partners in bed." Voldemort said, moaning loudly when the three fingers pressed harshly into his prostate.

"Just you, only you are worth waiting for." Harry purred into the man's ear, biting the lobe softly as he pulled his fingers away and lay back on the bed. "But now I'm just waiting for you," he said huskily, his green eyes dilated, his breathing harsh. All things Voldemort finally noticed as he blinked out of his haze.

He could see the headlines now: Why use a wand, Ride the Boy Who Lived and die from a heart attack, so goes Lord Voldemort. Our Hero prevails!

Harry couldn't wait a moment longer for this.

"I hope you're ready now," he breathed.

Voldemort found himself grabbing the sheets in sweaty preparation.

"And I hope you don't try to hold back."

Better now to get the talking out.

"Be sure to call my name..." Harry positioned himself before the man, and slowly entered

"Harry," Voldemort whimpered as he was lowered onto the man, both of them pushing towards the other, their bodies coming together as close as possible, but never as close as their minds, their souls. It was so heated; it was like rain pouring into a fire. Hot bodies, cool air. Voldemort moaned when he was fully sitting on Harry.

They moved together and apart, and closer still in the breathless night. "Voldemort... I love you."

The man above him almost froze...but his body had other ideas, he completely melted, groaning as he grabbed the head of the bed, forcing himself onto the body beneath him. Hard, fast, but lovingly.

"Harry!" He screamed as the man's hands dug into his hips. The pace speeding up. He was falling, sideways? No down, bloody fucking hell... he didn't know if he was falling or even flying. He just knew that he was about to snap.

And gods, he didn't want to wait a second longer.

Harry knew it, felt it even, and their bodies came together hard and grinding for it's last time, pressure uncoiled as the liquid was forced out simultaneously.

And Voldemort did scream, almost as if the command finally made sense to him. Harry's name echoed around the room as Voldemort fell against him panting heavily.

"I love you..." he finished his yelled exclamation softly, blacking out like Harry had earlier.
Their bodies curled together as they lay on the floor, amidst the sweaty blankets playing kindly to the quickly-cooling flesh.

"And I will always love you... Harry..." he whispered.

Harry looked at him softly, even in his dreams he thought about him. Harry ran his hand over Voldemort's face before relaxing against him.

And so... is this just it...? Harry pulled the blanket between them

Just sex and a few soft words?

Or would it mean anything when they wake in each other's arms...?

He thought it was a good thing to just fall asleep...worry about it in the morning...lie himself into a restless sleep as he tried to enjoy the moment as it was. Innocent.

Voldemort eased up and then growled. "My back... gods... that-" His eyes fell upon a sleeping Harry and he quieted. Harry... this was... his Harry... right...

His red-eyes slitted, he jerked back. The feeling that was creeping over him felt strange... and good... no... no it wasn't... he didn't like it... Voldemort's hands searched the floors for his robes. How... how can I keep this up?

How can I...tell him I love him and fight him on the battle field? How can I force myself to hate someone I love? He looked up when he felt a hand on his cheek.

"So yesterday...last night. It was all lies?"

His body fell silent.

"I can't understand any of this..." He said slowly. He turned to see the boy's eyes brimming with tears. "Harry..." Does he love me that much...?

"Then let me help you sort it out?" he croaked.

"How am I going to kill you when the time comes? How do I hate a person...I love?" He asked aloud this time, his eyes closing painfully. What was this? Why did it hurt worse the the Cruciatus Curse? This feeling powerfully grabbing his chest and squeezing hard until breathing was impossible.

"But you don't have to," Harry pleaded. The young man looked absolutely pitifully, mascara staining around his eyes and more tears threatening to fall. "You can... just drop all of it. And... and stay with me."

"Don't believe that I don't want too, but I want to continue with my goal. You could join me! And when it's all over we'll disappear." he said heatedly.

Harry blinked his wet eyes.

"But what are we to gain... and... what if one of us is killed and separated from the other? Voldemort, then what?" His hands grabbed for the man's. "Let's just stop this. Let's just... go."

"How about we leave...and I send words to my men and they play out our plans. We'll never leave our haven until the world is set right. Halfbreeds gaining territory. Muggleborns getting help. We'll never be in danger. I promise." He said kissing the younger's forehead.
Harry didn't look convinced. In fact, he seemed more worried than before. He clung to the man.

"Please don't lie... I love you."

"I'm not trying to lie...I hope what I say will be true." Voldemort said as he bowed his head.