*clears throat* Well, it sure has been a long time since I've updated. I suppose I should give some sort of explanation. To start things off, I've finished High school. Yay! During the 4 years of torture, I loaded my schedule up with Ap Classes, running two clubs, and taking intensive Commercial Art classes (one of only two programs like that in the state of Florida). So, there is my reasoning for not updating. Writing is not my main hobby, nor is it something I want to do for a career, so as my schedule got more and more demanding, it was one of the things I had to shove to the side. Thankfully, that part of my life is over. I've been writing this chapter very sparingly over the past couple of years when I could, so I hope it all makes sense together. I hope to be updating much more often, since my life in college will be much more calm and I'll have so much more freetime. Honestly, even after not updating in forever, I'm still getting favorites, follows, and reviews for this story. It helps me so much when I get those notifications, and it's humbling knowing that people actually like what I've written. Okay, jumbling mess of a ramble over, go ahead and read!
Oh wait, one more thing. I've changed some things plot wise since I started this story in order for it to flow more. Dumbledore will still be alive is the biggest thing. Okay, now I'm done.
Golden sunlight filtered through the windows of a small cafe not far from the Inn. Harry scarfed down two helpings of country fried steak, mashed potatoes, and some sort of gravy. The cafe was American themed, a type of food he'd never had before and he found it to be quite delicious yet...fattening. His eyes glanced down at the couple of shopping bags he had collected through out the day. He'd decided he needed a few new pieces to help him blend in, so he went and bough new jeans and shirts, a couple of sweatshirts or two, and a new pair of trainers. All in all it felt the most new clothing items he'd ever bought.
He cleaned the rest of his plate and paid the bill, strolling out of the cafe into the sunny yet busy side walks. People walked briskly past him, chatting on cell phones and generally minding their own business, not even giving him a passing glance.
Harry loved it.
As he walked, no one whispered, no one pointed, no one subtly took photos of him from behind newspapers. He was just a normal teenager walking around in Britain. No threat here. Harry snorted softly, maybe he should abandon the Wizarding world and become a muggle. Get a muggle job, live a muggle life with a muggle wife and children. No, no he couldn't do that. Despite what the Ministry had done to him, and regardless of what Dumbledore has told him, there were children he couldn't let live the life that they were born into. What if Voldemort won the war, and after taking over Wizarding Britain, he moved onto the rest of the world? Harry shook his head as he neared the hotel, that would be selfish and unwise for him to let happen.
He made it back to his room without disruption and collapsed on the couch, sighing and scrubbing at his face. Hedwig hooted him from her cage on the coffee table. He smiled at her and unlocked the cage and she flew around a bit before settling on the couch next to him.
Harry breathed and felt the moisture on the air. He glanced down to his hands, turning them upwards and imagining a water coating on them. A small smile graced his lips when the shimmer and pulling of droplets appeared above his hands and slowly wrapped around them. This was way cooler than magic to him, and ever could be. Harry groaned loudly and released the magic, then put his head in his hands. He needed to write the letter to the bloody Death Eaters, he couldn't hide out like this forever and he wanted answers. He wanted action.
He grabbed a pen and paper, tapping the pen to his chin. Who can he trust to get the letter to the Voldemort without alerting the Order nor the other Death Eaters? A snort escaped his lips. Why go through the middle man when you can go straight to the source?
Malfoy Manor.
Voldemort.
I need to speak with you privately and quickly.
It's urgent.
This is not a hoax nor a trap. I've come into recent news that have had me reconsider the choices I've made and which side I'm fighting for. If you accept my request for conversation, meet me at the Continental Diner in downtown Ealing by five pm tomorrow. It's a muggle eatery, so dress appropriately.
-HP
There. Perfect. Quick, simple, too the point, and with enough teasing information to warrant a reply. Harry stole a glimpse at Hedwig and nibbled on his bottom lip. He felt that it was extremely risky to send his owl, but at the same time he trusted her speed and agility. Placing a quick kiss atop her head, he tied the letter to her leg and let her go, telling her to be safe.
He was alone now, with his own thoughts. Harry's mind mulled over Amius, and how the old relative had completely changed his entire world. How could Dumbledore keep this kind of information from him? This was huge news, and being as nosy and thorough the old coot was, Harry couldn't believe he didn't know about Amius and the Elementalists. Then again, Harry had never heard of them in any books he had read, even his history books. Well, why would the Ministry allow such a massacre to be presented to the public? How many people actually did know what the ministry had done to other wizards? The red hatred boiled in Harry's chest again, and the comparison to Voldemort's pursue of muggle and what the Ministry did only plagued his mind. They had both targeted a group of people and aimed to completely wipe them out. The only difference was that one had succeeded, almost. Harry was, once again, that rare exception. A common mantra once again ran through his head, why me?
He felt something stir inside him, one he hadn't experienced with regular magic. He actually wanted to practice his new found gift.
Ten minutes later Harry had a huge bowl of water sitting on the glass coffee table, and he had taken off his shirt in case he lost control and spilled water on himself. He cracked his knuckles, and glanced down at the list of ideas he had written down for exercises. His mind focused as he outstretched his hands.
Square.
Sphere.
Corkscrew.
Double helix.
Pyramid.
Repeat.
And he did repeat those five shapes for almost an hour, until he could do it so rapidly that there was no thought, he just did it. He let the water fall into the bowl, and a huge grin stretched across his face. He actually felt accomplished in what he had done. It was progress. He went and got a drink, taking a small break. His next move was learning how to move the water. He could make shapes, that was a given, but moving the water in the air? That was a another stepping stone.
He sat back on the couch and stared at the bowl of water, then made a small ball hover in the air. Harry was unsure how to approach this. The water felt like clay when he was shaping it, so perhaps if he thought about the clay moving to the right...
Harry reeled back in shock when the little water ball zoomed to the right and slammed into the wall, leaving a wet spot on the paint.
Well, it seemed that worked, a little too well. A small chuckled bubbled out of Harry's lips as he summoned a new ball and refocused his mind. His eyes narrows as he concentrated and tried a new approach. He hovered his hands out in front of his chest and felt the ball, then moved his hands to the left while gently squeezing the ball. It hovered to the left, following his hands. This method felt much more controlled than his earlier attempt at picturing the ball moving, but he also felt that it would be harder to fight like this. Another hour passed with him playing with the water ball, to the point where he was controlling the sphere with his fingers. At one point he had it bouncing like a paddle ball.
Harry felt so in-tune to this gift he had earned only a day or so ago. He had never been amazing at normal magic, but with this type he felt like he could do anything and stop anyone. Harry actually felt powerful.
A pecking noise made him halt his practice, and he looked out the window to find Hedwig sitting there patiently. He let her in, fed her some food, then meandered into the bedroom. He was tired from the day, and he hadn't realized how much time had passed until he let Hedwig in and saw the sun had already set.
Harry flopped onto his bed after changing and brushing his teeth, and had the full intention of going straight to sleep when a voice in his head startled him.
"I'm glad to see you have been practicing." The old gravely voice echoed in his head. Harry jumped up into a sitting position before he remembered Amius was still there.
Yes, I'm becoming very good at it actually. Did normal magic come to you like this? A barking laugh answered him.
"Ha, no no. I wasn't even able to make a wand spark, I was almost a squib through and through. Other MOEs I knew were crap shots at normal magic as well. Although on the flip side, people like Lily who only had one element were superb wizards. My theory on it is that, our elemental magic takes up so much of our core that there's simply no room for the normal type of wizard magic." Harry nodded his head, as his theory did make sense in his head.
Ah, that's good insight. Tell me Amius, have you been observing our world for a while?
"Actually yes, pretty much since your birth young one. I must say, that red headed boy is quite...an annoyance to listen to. But the girl, the one with the bushy hair, is quite intelligent. I think it would be worth while to try and convince her to go to the 'gray' side as your century calls it."
Hermione is brilliant, but with her being muggleborn, I think she would stay to the light side unless I have a damn good logical argument to sway her.
"Hm, perhaps. I feel there is more to your inquiry than my opinions on your friends however."
You would be correct. What can you tell me about Voldemort?
"Ah, the little boy from the orphanage that you lads call Lord Voldemort! Would it surprise you that he had the potential to control fire if he grew up in a wizarding household instead of that orphanage?"
Really? The first wizarding war would have been...quite different if he had that ability. How come I have the full power if I grew up in a muggle household?
"MOE power and elemental power, although stemming from the exact same branch of magic, form very differently. MOE power is completely ingrained in your blood, your core, nothing will stop it from coming on your inheritance day when it makes its appearance. However, elemental power requires a good home, one with love and care which is where Lily came from, and that begins from birth basically, like accidental magic."
Interesting. You're always a well of knowledge. But, I digress, I guess what I'm really asking is what is Voldemort up to now days?
A chuckle bounced around his mind.
"Well your letter certainly caused a storm at his base today. Quite the heated debate between him and his snake and that blonde haired man."
Lucius?
"Yes, that one. Voldemort ordered him to find where this letter came from and basically test it within an inch of its life, and when every poison, spell, curse, ecetera came back negative, well...Lucius had a limp. I felt almost sorry for the man. But, he did read your letter, and I believe he will show up tomorrow. Now Harry, I have some advice and I need you to listen carefully. Phrase your questions as if you were talking to a hungry lion, and for your sake, forget everything Dumbledore has told you about this man. I have examined his soul-"
Wait wait, hold on, you examined his soul?
"I was crap at magic, but I did have a peculiar ability that has since died out over the years. It's quite useful. Continuing, I've noticed several new soul pieces have been added back to him, although it's still split. I've also been noticing that for the past two or three weeks, serious changes have been underway in his base. I think Harry that his...sanity has come back to him in sorts.
"Harry went silent, his eyes focused in on the ceiling. He honestly couldn't believe what he was hearing. First Amius had an amazing gift that allowed him to examine souls, how wicked was that. Second, Voldemort has somehow gotten parts of his soul back. Third, Voldemort has gained part of his sanity back? The crazed madman that has almost killed him on multiple occasions, murdered his parents, started a genocide thousands of innocent people, was almost back to normal?
This was nuts.
Completely and utterly nuts.
Well...I guess...I'll see what happens tomorrow?
"I would normally tell you leap before you think, but in this case, do a bit of thinking before jumping in. Despite his recent changes, do proceed with caution about supporting his cause. He still retains his personality traits.
Sadistic, controlling, manipulative, got it.
"Yes. One last thing before I go. I did help you find your first element, but the others will require you to find them. Water is kind of our family thing I suppose, so I helped you get started because that's our strongest. Maybe it was because I was from Italy, surrounded by water everywhere. My good friend, Annalise, was superb at earth and was from the German countryside. Anyways, I do recommend trying to find air next, then earth, then fire, and then the rest will come to you naturally over time. Meditate daily, and practice."
Thank you Amius, I will be forever grateful
"I know. Harry I will be gone to another part of the world after tonight, spiritual drifting and all. Perhaps western Asia, looking at the celestial wind patterns. Or the Middle East, either way, remember to be safe and careful. I love you, young one."
I love you too Amius. Good bye.
Harry felt the pressure ease from his head and turning on his side, he gazed out of the window in his bedroom. The moon's light was streaming onto the carpet, and Harry was trying to process everything Amius had seen and told him. He felt slightly numb, but that was because he was in shock he supposed.
He heaved out a sigh, told himself it would work itself out, and forced himself to sleep.
The next morning he found himself standing in the shower. He leaned his head against the cool tiles while the hot water streamed down his back. His head hurt terribly from another nightmare, but this one wasn't connected to Voldemort in any way. He had been standing on a hill, laughing and waving his hands around, controlling a massive blaze that was destroying all of London. He could remember in the dream seeing people he loved being burned or running from the flames, and he had used air to push them back into the fire before they could shield themselves. He had woke up panting and his sore throat indicated he had been screaming for a while.
He shook the horrible nightmare from his head, chalking it up to his fears of his power consuming him and told himself that he would never be like that.
Stepping out of the shower and toweling himself off, he dressed in jeans and a t-shirt and then wandered back out into the living area. He glanced at the clock and noticed it was barely nine in the morning. He had a ton of time before going to his meeting with fate. He bit his lip, maybe he should practice using the water as a fighting tool. He had the hang of making shapes with it, but throwing a ball of water at the Dark Lord would not prove to be very effective. He needed it to hurt.
He shoved the coffee table and chairs out of the way, leaving a clear space for him to work with. Any water he would get on the carpet he would just pull out. He grabbed another bowl full of water and set it next to him on the floor and stared down at it, holding his hands out. He should try making it into a whip of some sort.
Harry furrowed his brows and moved his hands in a wave like motion, encouraging the water in the bowl to rise up steadily to where it resembled a ribbon. He kept his hands and arms moving, making the ribbon twirl, and then grabbed one end of the ribbon in his right hand and made his mind focus on keeping the water together, and let his other hand fall to his side. To his surprise, the water maintained its shape and became cooler.
Hm, cooler?
He narrowed his eyes and pushed the image of the water become straight and stiff.
He let out a yelp as the ribbon of water turned into an icy stick, and he dropped it in shock. The broken ice shards immediately melted back into water and Harry leaned back against the wall. He had inadvertently discovered ice before any of the other elements. A wild grin broke across his face. If Voldemort tried anything shifty today, a few shards of ice in his face would be better than splashing him to death. Harry pulled the water back up from the carpet and made it into a whole ice stick again. The ice was chilly to his hand, but not uncomfortable to make him want to drop it. He tossed it back and forth between his hands and spun it around like a bad karate movie, laughing to himself.
He scratched the back of his head and looked back at the ice, thinking about the ball he had thrown around yesterday. Could he freeze water mid air and turn it into sharp pieces of ice?
He made the water go back into the bowl, and then picked up a ball of water and held it in his fingertips. He then threw the ball like a pitcher would a baseball, and he then immediately thought about the ball becoming a thin, needle-like, solid piece of ice.
An ice spear embedded itself in the wall, and a triumphant look decorated Harry's face.
The day was spent in the same way, with him practicing different ways of using water and ice in combat, but it frustrated Harry that he had limited water and space to work with. If he had a river, or a lake, of some sort to summon larger things of water, he was curious to see what he could come up with. He imagined a huge wave coming up behind him and hitting-
His train of thought stopped.
Who was he fighting now? The logical answer was still Voldemort, but he truly did want to hear what Voldemort was going to say to him. And Dumbledore surely would have known about his heritage, and Dumbledore was the one who sent him back to the Dursley's every single year...and surely Dumbledore was the one who kept Voldemort in the orphanage? More than likely it was him. Dumbledore has always kept things hidden from him, and he even took money out of Harry's Gringotts account without explaining why. Harry no longer trusted the old man, and he wasn't sure on what Dumbledore's true intentions were anyways. He was obviously trying to stop Voldemort from killing people, but after that? He didn't know. Maybe Dumbledore desired to rule the Wizarding world, but in a manipulative and infuriating way rather than by brutal force. His eyes wandered to the clock, and he yelped, realizing he only had twenty minutes to be ready and at the diner before Lucifer himself showed up.
He ran to the bedroom, dressing in his nicer clothes and trying, desperately, to run a comb through his hair. He didn't want to look like a homeless teenager on the run, instead he wanted to at least try and give the impression that he was attempting to be a mature adult to the bloody Dark Lord. He left his hotel room and booked it down to the Cafe, patting his pockets and assuring his wand was there as usual. As he walked, he tried to calm his racing nerves. For all he knew, he could be walking into a trap.
The diners cozy atmosphere couldn't penetrate the iciness that seemed to attach to the underside of Harry's ribs. His skin felt cold and clammy, and for the second time in the past five minutes, he launched into an internal tirade on why this was such a bad idea. Voldemort might not have even gotten his message. Or, he did and was going to kill him on the spot. Or perhaps he was going to let Harry explain at least the bare minimum of what had happened and then laugh in his face and kill him anyways.
Or maybe, His mind whispered, he'll actually believe you and you'll get your revenge on the ministry and Dumbledore. Harry grimaced and fiddled with the handle of his coffee mug. He desperately hoped that Amius was right in telling Harry to speak with Voldemort.
He felt him before he saw him. His scar began to itch uncomfortably, and he kept his eyes trained on the door. As soon as he saw the plain dressed, bland, brown haired man walk through the door, Harry gripped his mug and gritted his teeth against the pain that blossomed in his head. He breathed deeply and locked eyes with the man who stalked over to his table, reminding Harry of a shark locked in on his prey.
Voldemort slid into the seat across from him and Harry felt a silencing charm float around the booth. Harry cleared his throat nervously and stared down into the dark coffee.
"The Prophet is having an absolute field day with your disappearance Potter." His voice flowed out smoothly, very different from the snake-like hissing of his previous years. He sounded like a more mature version of himself from the Diary of second year. "You also look like you're in an immense amount of pain." Harry could only nod and then point at his scar. Voldemort let out a noncommittal hum and then Harry felt his pain subside to where it was merely an annoyance. He blew out a sigh of relief.
"Why did you do that?" He looked back up at Voldemort's face and relaxed his grip on the mug.
"How can I have a diplomatic discussion when my enemy cannot even speak."
"I no longer wish to be your enemy." Harry sighed out, and a small grin graced his mouth at the subtle amounts of shock that flew across Voldemort's face.
"In your oh so mysterious owl, you mentioned that you came into some information that made you reconsider your allegiance to the Light. Tell me what has happened." Despite the absence of the red eyes, Voldemort's hard stare still made Harry uncomfortable.
But, he blew out a breath, steeled himself against the many horrible outcomes that this could cause, and began to tell his abridged version of what had happened to him the past couple days.
"Have you heard of people who can control all of the elements?"
"They are myths, at least now. There have been no record of humans who can control multiple elements for thousands of years." Harry smiled grimly.
"I guess I'm a living myth then. My seventeenth birthday was only two nights ago, and I was pulled into another realm by what happened to be my great grandfather. He could control all the elements; the formal title is Master of Elements but its Moe for short. They aren't common, per say, but up until a little over 100 years ago there was one or two from every country. However, one of them went insane and killed a whole town full of people and the ministries of the countries basically started a Moe genocide. They killed almost all of them. Except my great grandfather. He was able to escape to the other realm, but he can't leave or else he will die. I came into my inheritance and gained that power." Voldemort sat silent for a moment, studying him with his intense stare.
"How does that change your allegiance to the Light. What you've just told me only furthers my desire to see you dead."
Harry pursed his lips, trying to figure out how to best say what he wanted to. "I said I don't want to be your enemy. What the ministry did to the Moes, is just as bad as what you have done to the muggleborns. I don't wish to fight for that side. In addition, Dumbledore has been withdrawing money from my accounts amongst other grievances he's done to me over the years." He took in a deep breath before continuing. "My great grandfather also has been, for lack of a better term, spying on you since I was born. He has noticed some unusual activity that has been happening at your base the past few weeks." He looked back down and his coffee. "I'll admit, I have noticed the distinct lack of attacks from your side recently."
Voldemort leaned back against his seat, looking like the image of calm and relaxed, but Harry saw the tightness in his limbs.
"You want revenge on the ministry and Dumbledore."
"How could you tell so easily?"
"Your eyes and body language." Harry grimaced and tried to make his face blank. "Trying to hide your emotions would be like trying to thread a horse through the eye of a needle." He let out an undignified snort. "Gryffindors."
Harry blinked owlishly, "Did...did you just snort?" Voldemort stiffened.
"Yes. I suppose I should...answer some questions about my side of the war I am sure you are bound to have." Harry cleared his throat.
"Amius, he said that your soul has been repairing itself." Harry held himself against the instinct to flinch backwards when Voldemort's eyes flashed.
"And how does he know that?"
"He gas a gift on analyzing souls. He can view our world from his realm and use his gift on anyone he can see, I think. He didn't have much time to fully explain things to me."
Voldemort remained quiet. "I suppose..." he murmured, "you do have some right to know. We are connected after all. Has Dumbledore told you about Horcruxes in his quest to make you a weapon?" Harry nodded.
"I destroyed your diary in my Second year. You were a right cocky bastard in your youth." Voldemort surprised him again by letting out a biting laugh.
"Yes, I was. Not necessarily proud of my younger years."
Harry continued, "Last year, I know that Dumbledore destroyed the Gaunt ring."
"Yes, he has been coming closer to finding other Horcruxes of mine." He blew out a breath. "I should feel angry at the destruction of the vessels, but they have improved my side for the better." He leaned closer to Harry, resting his arms on the table. "Very, very little is know about Horcruxes. Usually, the people who do make a Horcrux only have the power or bravery to make one. Thus, when that is destroyed, they are quickly killed afterward. However, I am special of course."
"You made six, correct?"
"How do you know that." He hissed. Harry shrugged, putting his hands up. The irate expression Voldemort sported revealed to him that he really wasn't supposed to know that.
"Dumbledore of course. Everything I know about you came from Dumbledore and my own experiences with you."
"I should have known the old coot would have known exactly how many I had." He grunted. The more Harry spoke with Voldemort, the more he was caught off guard by the many, normal, ways he spoke. The previous times Harry had interacted with the man, he was so cold, aloof, and had a reptilian way of speech. More of a monster than a human. During the conversation, Harry felt like he was talking to a man and not a snake. He still kept his guard up. Voldemort could still decide to kill him. "But I digress. Yes, I have six. Had would be the more correct statement. I only have four left. What little research has been done on Horcruxes showed that when the vessel is destroyed, so is the soul. However, I have reason to believe that is not the case. The soul put in the Horcrux is merely a bit of the main soul, the main core of your soul remains in the human body. The reason it was believed that the soul was destroyed when the Horcrux vessel was, was because no one lived long after their Horcrux was destroyed." Harry nodded his head in understanding, watching Voldemort with inquiring eyes.
"I have a feeling I know where this is going." He sat back and waved for Harry to speak. "When I destroyed the Diary five years ago, you didn't actually have a body at the time, so your soul piece wandered around for two years until you recovered your body."
"Very good. I didn't expect you to catch on. Yes, but that soul piece had wandered very far and it didn't rejoin my body until a few months ago. It was so weak that I didn't even notice that it joined me until the Gaunt ring soul piece joined my body a few weeks ago. Only then did I come out of my madness and notice that it was even there. It has gotten stronger now that it has a vessel to live in." Harry nodded and sipped his coffee, looking out the large front window of the cafe.
He was about to ask Voldemort on whether his plans for the war have changed when his blood ran cold. Outside, across the street, was Arthur Weasley in a passable muggle outfit. He swore and ducked his head. "Don't look, but Arthur Weasley is across the street. I would bet the Potter fortune he's looking for me." Voldemort's shoulders tensed and he too hunched down in his clothes.
"It would not bode well for either of us if the Order found you." Harry nodded, and breathed a small sigh of relief when Arthur continued walking down the street.
Voldemort sat back and regarded Harry with a calculating, cold look. Harry stared back at him, keeping his face blank. He still did not know whether Voldemort would kill him, but the more they discussed what has been happening, the more confident he became that Voldemort wouldn't kill him. He cleared his throat. "I guess, my ending question is how has your soul pieces rejoining you affected what you wanted out of the war." A cat-like grin stretched across Voldemort's face.
"Despite the madness that splitting my soul inflicted upon me, I never lost my goal for the war. I still stand by my idea that Muggles and Wizards should not mix. However, I do acknowledge that my strategy of killing muggles and muggleborns is a fruitless and pointless effort. There are billions of muggles, armed with explosive and destructive weapons that our kind would never be able to stand against." He leaned in, and Harry couldn't help but lean in as well. "I know you were raised by muggles. How did they react when they knew you were a magical child." Harry's lips pressed into a thin line.
"I'm not going to tell you that."
"Then that's all I need to know, that on some psychological level you realize that muggles do not respond well to things they cannot explain. Wizards know that magic simply is. Muggles," he shook his head, "muggles would not see that. We would be freaks, freaks that should be slaughtered like cattle for their religious beliefs. You know of the witch hunts that happened for hundreds of years in Europe and America."
Harry grimaced, realizing that Voldemort was correct. He suffered years of abuse and neglect from his muggle relatives because of his magic.
"Fear Harry, fear of what we are would drive them to kill us all. A full blow world war, much worse than the one I waged in Britain."
"As much as I hate to admit it, you make a convincing argument for the separation of the worlds. I would need to give it more thought however. What about the muggleborns?"
"I have not come up with a permanent solution as of yet, but I do have ideas. However, as it stands, I am in no position to try and change anything. Britain fears me, as it should fear a powerful Dark lord, but they would never let me be in power. There would always be opposition."
Harry smirked. "I think I have an idea on how to be in that position." Voldemort quirked an eyebrow.
"You would assist me in becoming a leader of the magical world?"
"I am considering it. You know, you've never lied to me. And you've been up front with what you want. The Light, Dumbledore, they keep secrets. They keep me out of the information loop, saying I'm too young and other bullshit. Hell, I'm supposed to be the one fighting and killing you, and they can't let me into meetings? It's nonsense." That feral grin etched itself back on Voldemort's grin.
"I for one would love to have you as an ally Harry. You have proven yourself to be a powerful wizard, and with training your new talent, a very formidable foe."
Harry breathed out a sigh of relief. "Good. I was worried you were going to kill me."
"A few weeks ago I might have out of pure blood-lust and hate of you. But with the clarity I have of my mind, I would much rather have you as an ally."
"So where do we go from here?"
Voldemort crossed his arms.
"I do not think it would be wise for you to return to the order. I fear they would put you under lock and key for the rest of the war."
"I was thinking along those same lines. I have a hotel here in the city, but I can't train in those cramped quarters."
"Well Mr. Potter, it seems you're coming to stay with me."
Despite the new path that Harry was taking, he felt a bit of fear from that statement.