A/N: I really have no idea what I am doing… Sorry if I can't drop a warning where the explicit-y parts start because of the content… and it ain't graphic anyway. For me. And it sucks, I know.

Warnings: Extreme OoC, Gore, Grammar & Spelling, Language… this and that. Right! Slash. Innuendos.

Pairing(s): Obviously, LVHP (I'm too attached!)

Disclaimer: There's no net! Morgana's tits!

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::

Tom took control of Harry's body while the teen tried to calm himself down. He could only do this for a few seconds, a minute at most. But he just needed to let his point across. He knew that Voldemort likely already knows why Harry reacted that way, if the look on his snake-like face was anything to go by.

"I don't have much time," started Tom, borrowed red eyes flashing, "but Harry is my vessel. I am your Horcrux. You would do better if you protect him. And I suggest that you ignore the prophecy; they aren't meant to be heard."

Tom felt the strain on his reserves and let Harry gain back the control. He watched, through Harry's eyes as Voldemort simply nodded in agreement. It seems the man—for he was such, now that he acts more like it—has come to the correct conclusion; prophecies are never meant to be heard, let alone manipulate one's action.

Everything that happened to Harry—from the Dursleys to the effects— and what Voldemort had ended up in, were orchestrated just because one prophecy was heard. Without the prophecy, everything would have been finished a long time ago; everything would have ended in the first War and no other casualties to be added. And Voldemort now knew this too.

And Voldemort knew to protect Harry, too. Or he would suffer the wrath of his own Horcrux.

He cared for Harry. Ever since he had seen himself in the child when said child was being enslaved, he determined himself that he would care for the child, unlike himself who grew up as the power hungry, scared of death Dark Lord because no one ever reached out a hand.

He had fulfilled his task, yet failed. Harry, despite having Tom, had still succumbed to the abuse of his blood relatives and with that came the consequences. Harry showed most of the signs of children abused at a young age, but what makes the difference is that he can hide it. Harry's good at hiding things, and that is what Tom regrets, at the same time not, ever teaching him. After all, an insane man that shows insanity can have some of their reactions predicted, but an insane man that can hide his insanity is far too unpredictable, too dangerous. And people sought out to remove someone that dangerous.

The least Tom could do was to restrict Harry with logic to protect him.

Even Tom, at a young age, shows his true colors to people—flashes of memories resurfaced; an old orphanage, taunting children, a bunny hanged at the rafters, shouting, "You! YOU FREAK IT'S YOUR FAULT—and even Dumbledore knew to avoid him, to stop him. Harry, however… only people the teen intended to find out knew. But Tom knew Harry and Harry knew Tom. They would never do anything to endanger the other, and that includes Voldemort, in Tom's case, if he continued with his agreement.

"T- ah, sorry," Tom realized Harry was speaking, "I'm sorry for that- earlier…" Harry looked down to his lap and Tom knew he was blushing. Tom smirked. Maybe this small truce really was a good decision…

"No harm done." answered Voldemort in a slightly strained voice.

Both Harry and Tom noticed this. Tom listened, amused as always, as Harry started thinking of various things that could have led Voldemort to answer like that when all Voldemort did was to cause harm. At least in Harry's view and the boy knew that he doesn't know everything so shrugged it all off.

Silence settled over them though not one of them noticed this, what with their tendency to ignore tense atmospheres. Getting annoyed at the silence and waste of time, Tom chose his moment to speak to Harry his thoughts.

Harry, maybe you should get on with it, you still have to return to Grimmauld Pla—

I don't really have to, Tommy—

Don't call me Tommy—

—just because they need their Boy-Who-Lived doesn't mean I have to return. If I ever disappear, they would probably think that I was holed up somewhere in the house for a few days before they start actively searching for me.

Tom stayed silent as he pondered over this. Harry had a point there; the teen had decided it was fun to see the people there look worried when nothing really is wrong and spent the hours looking moody (Harry had giggled at that when he thought of it) and tired, pretending to be not feeling well after the death of Cedric Diggory and wallowing in self guilt.

Ok, fine. Where are you going to stay then?

Harry shrugged.

Tom might have laughed at the weirded out look Voldemort gave Harry when he shrugged, but he would deny it with all his might—it wasn't impressive now, mind you, but he has Harry at his side but he got the feeling the little bastard would make fun of him instead.

"So why are you here, Harry?" asked a rather hesitant Voldemort. It was funny seeing the most powerful Dark Lord since Grindelwald hesitant. To a teenager nonetheless!

"What I said," answered Harry back, turning his attention to the snake wrapped around him, not at all feeling like fidgeting under the red examining gaze. "A truce and Free Reign."

"You have not explained what this," Voldemort gestured around, "Free Reign is."

Tom let go and laughed at how human the Dark Lord was being after all the chaos of the War he had ignited, and the confusion of his resurrection. Tom, as a soul shard of Voldemort from the end of the war, had all the memories to know how much innocent blood was spilled. Some of these memories filtered to Harry and Tom had blamed himself for not protecting his own memories from a child who can be easily influenced, as the Dursleys liked to gloat around. Even until now when he already allowed Harry to finally release his pent up rage.

"Free Reign," started Harry, "is simply me doing whatever I want in exchange for one thing. Although I already had the permission for Free Reign from Tommy, I needed a way to continue it and being with the order… that is not possible. It's only something I can call whatever I feel like doing."

"And you would ask me because…?"

"Tommy is a part of you and you are a part of Tommy." stated Harry simply, as if it answered everything.

Which it did, thought Tom. Being with Harry for the majority of the teen's life—his birth until Voldemort's attack being the only part he isn't—made him used to Harry's logic of 'anything I think is true is true, no questions asked; anyone who questions it will receive only one explanation and when still not happy, I force you to, through any means necessary'. That had started when the pressure of being with his relatives and finding out that everyone in the Wizarding World was basically the same had broken Harry completely beyond even Tom's care.

Tom had fervently wished that he could have punished those worthless beings but he didn't have enough power to do so and Harry had still been unprotected and unsafe if he does anything against them. Going to his other self had been the top priority even though he said to Harry that he had to wait until he is safe enough to deal with the fallout that Tom had no doubt that will happen at a later date. And being with his other self, Voldemort, was the way out of it. He would make sure of it.

"Okay." Tom found himself surprised at how easily the man agreed but thought, then again, that Voldemort is rather adaptable. "What about the truce?"

Harry hummed. "Well, as Tommy said, prophecies are never meant to be heard—not that I know what the prophecy contains, I know about it the same as you do—and I really, really don't care about what happens to those sheep. I'd rather have my Free Reign, thank you very much."

::Master:: This called all of their attention to the snake nearly dozing off on Harry's lap. Voldemort arched an eyebrow, or at least where it was supposed to be, at the snake. Tom knew why. Nagini was never as relaxed a she is around anyone else besides Voldemort. ::Can we keep him? He's warm and cuddly and he's a Childe. He's now my Childe. Master, I'll keep him.::

There was a silence that descended the room, Harry too busy with cuddling the snake never noticed.

Suddenly, Voldemort laughed.

Tom joined along as he felt Harry be pleased with both the attention the snake was giving him and, possibly, the reaction of Voldemort as well. It really was one of his best decisions to point Harry towards Voldemort. What Harry had lacked in any kind of affection, aside from Tom's, he could, perhaps, at least be repaired by the ones who Tom trusted Harry with.

Or maybe more…

What?

Nothing, nothing.

Harry pouted and lavished Nagini with all his attention. Fine. Don't tell me. I'll find out anyway.

Of course you would.

Tom smirked. Best decision indeed.

Voldemort felt the sudden chill and forced himself to not shiver as he led Harry to the living room.

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::

Harry had quickly invaded one of the guest rooms in the manor and Nagini stayed most of the time with him, only leaving her Childe when Voldemort left for an errand.

Harry, Voldemort quickly found out, liked bugging people so the teen was always found in the study, pestering Voldemort, while, at the same time, reading a book. How he managed that, Voldemort can only guess and Tom sigh. As far as Tom could tell, Harry had never been this annoying. He had been annoying before but not this annoying.

Harry, however, was feeling giddy and nervous at the same time, therefore leaving his nerves at a state not so different to fireworks. He had tried to calm himself down by transferring his excitable energy to the only thing he could; badgering Voldymorty. His most recent modus operandi had been randomly pouncing on the man in his Animagus form. He found that even though in animal form, he could still speak in parseltongue finely. After all, cats could hiss.

He had been scowled at, flicked at, but never something worse than that. Harry really couldn't figure out why he felt relieved and attached even more to the man.

Tom, however, knows. Not that he would tell Harry that. He could only be grateful that his plan had worked and in the last few days, Harry was slowly calming down but he knew the teen could never be calm anymore. Too much damage had been done but, hey, Voldemort's making more progress than anyone else, so it was fine.

As long as Harry would never feel that miserable again.

The insanity that was slowly taking over Harry had been stifling. It had hurt more than anything else. And it had hurt Harry to the point of breaking. Harry was broken; Tom knew that, Voldemort knew that, Nagini knew that. It was already a statement.

Even Voldemort, the ruthless, cruel, heartless Dark Lord that he is, never wanted anyone to be broken and live. He did break people, but in the end, he lets them have the mercy of death.

Harry, however, despite being broken, deep inside, he still had the will to live. To live and do as he wishes.

Harry was never aware that they were trying to mend the broken parts he had left. He was not willing to believe that anyone would want to care for him. Oh, he knew Tommy did but Tommy was too weak to do that. He can barely even express his emotions to Harry and not suffer exhaustion. So being with Voldemort and Nagini, who both took their time to be with him and actually care for him the way only Tommy did.

Nagini with her clingy mother henning, Voldemort with his aloof yet affectionate interactions, and Tommy who he simply knows cares for him, not about.

That, however, didn't stop him from going to have another Free Reign.

After a week of staying put in the manor and annoying Voldemort, Harry took off to Great Hangleton and snatched a random passerby, swiftly transfiguring the rather stocky woman into a doll. Putting the transfigured doll inside his pocket, he went back to the manor.

"Voldy!" called Harry cheerily as he entered the study where Voldemort was doing paperwork he didn't care to know about. "Can I borrow the dungeons?"

Voldemort blinked at him before slowly nodding though a second later, narrowed his eyes.

"Why?"

Harry looked at him under his lashes while pulling a doll from his pocket. Voldemort absently noted that he should buy Harry new clothes as well; he was wearing that baggy, fading shirt and equally baggy trousers he wore two days ago. Though he should probably just let the teen choose. Money was not really a problem. He resolved to burn those abominations the teen continued to wear as clothes as soon as he can.

"A doll?" asked Voldemort incredulously.

"It's not a doll."

"Then what is it?"

"Uhm," said Harry, indecisive on whether he should just say or show. Deciding that it would be a waste of effort if he transfigured his captive back into human then back again, he opted to use the first option. "A human."

"Uh-huh," said Voldemort as he set down the paper he was holding with distaste. "What are you going to do with… it?"

"What are the dungeons for?" answered Harry as he simply sauntered off into the dungeons Voldemort had created when he made the manor into a safe house. It used to be a cellar but a bit of magic here and there made another room upstairs into a more suitable cellar and the dungeons were made.

The place was dark but not at all damp, unlike the ones in Grimmauld Place—that place was so dark and damp; it seemed rather unkempt, probably because it was not being used anymore—though there were still spatters of blood everywhere, it was relatively clean.

Unlit torches were the only source of light—typical medieval obsessed Voldemort (Hey!)—there was a holding cell or two, a small room to the side—presumably for interrogation—and a pretty large open space with various cabinets attached to the walls— a place where people could be more… creative. It's where the choir would be placed for the other captives' enjoyment and entertainment.

Harry went to the open space and conjured a steel table roughly the same size as his new playmate in human form. He placed the doll on the table and transfigured the doll back into human. Harry didn't bother to take in the woman's features as, in the end, she was only another faceless being.

The stocky woman immediately screamed at him as soon as the spell was done and Harry silenced her, rubbing his ears all the while.

"Merlin! Do people really need to be this noisy? It's not like I'm doing anything to them! Yet!"

He quickly stunned the woman when she tried to hit him.

Harry sighed, hands shaking. "Why do people like hitting me?" And people did. His Uncle did. His Aunt did. Dudley did. Everyone did. Why not hit the freak?—Blood, pain, fear, anger, darkness, longing, loneliness, helplessness, "TOMMY—

Arms engulfed him and the first reaction Harry did was to recoil at the touch, fearing that it would only bring more pain—ghost pain erupted, worthless, useless, no one wants yo—

"Harry, Harry…"

The arms tightened around him, only the shushing of a familiar voice anchoring him back in reality. His Uncle's not here. His Aunt isn't here. Dudley can never be here. No one besides Tommy, Voldemort, and Nagini were around.

"No one's here to hurt you," whispered Voldemort to the teen in his arms. He ran a hand through the messy hair, calming Harry down further at the gentle touch. Voldemort himself was surprised at how gentle he is when it comes to Harry. Not Potter. Not the Boy-Who-Lived. And especially not his Horcrux. Harry became more than his Horcrux in the past days. It was just his Harry now, not Harry, his Horcrux.

Harry took a shuddering breath as he calmed down, standing up properly but not pulling away from the comfort—comfort, coming another person aside from his Tommy; comfort coming from his say so enemy.

Tom stayed quiet through all of this, silently happy that there was someone else aside from him that cared for Harry. And Voldemort was different. He was Voldemort, but now he was Tommy, the one who took Harry under his wing despite being inside the boy. That was what Harry had believed in all this time, Tom only kept on rebuking him. But the boy was nothing but stubborn and kept on calling him Tommy, not the Tom who was in the Diary, and not Voldemort the main soul. Voldemort was only his past; not the present nor future.

"What were you going to do to this... muggle?" Voldemort spat the last word as if it was the vilest thing in the world, shifting so he was more comfortable. His arms ended up encircling Harry's waist when the teen faced the slumped figure of the muggle. If their position was a bit intimate, no one said anything.

"Well," started Harry, giggling a bit, his mood turning a complete 180 now that he was fine—not alright, never alright. "She was to be my playmate… but I don't think I like her anymore. So she'll be my dog!"

Voldemort snorted, "Please, by all means, continue."

Harry summoned a gag from one of the cabinets and used magic to put it on the muggle. Next, he summoned a plain black collar with a chain leash attached to it. He held it in his hand and stared at it. The chain was heavy but the collar was too plain. He wrinkled his nose and conjured numerous small, rusting needles and attached it all on the inside part of the collar. He put the collar around his dog's neck before hooking the chain leash at the foot of the table.

He giggled as he let go of the chain and watched as some of the needles imbedded into the skin, all the while Voldemort watched as Harry did all this with amusement.

"You know about the story of Christ, right?" asked Harry absently as he leaned on Voldemort, giggling spontaneously as some blood dribbled down the unconscious woman's neck.

Voldemort made an agreeing sound. "The one those annoying Christians believe in?"

"Yes, that. I just thought about how similar what I did to my dog is with the crowning of thorns."

"If this is how you treat your pets, I fear what will happen if you do have a pet given to you willingly."

Harry pouted. "She's been a bad dog and I have some instincts of my Animagus form. Besides, bad dogs need to be neutered."

"Normal people don't neuter dogs just because they have been bad."

"Well then, I'm not normal people then. Even you aren't."

Voldemort shrugged and placed his chin on top of Harry's head, his tall willowy figure easily towering over the teen's small frame. He really needed to force more food into Harry but the teen could barely stomach a whole plate and Nutrition Potions were out of the question when both Basilisk venom and Phoenix tears were coursing through one's veins; the endless fight between two potent substances renders anything less potent useless. And those two are the most potent.

"Yes, yes." Voldemort waved his hand. "Carry on, Nagini will be here soon."

Harry's smile brightened. "Really? Where had Nagi been?"

"If I would guess, Nagini had been out… hunting."

For mates.

Harry sputtered, blushing. "What?!" His attention from the blood was pulled away to Voldemort who was looking at him in surprise. "Nagi's out hunting for… for mates?"

"How did you kno- oh, never mind. Yes, she is."

"B-but… why doesn't she have a-a—"

"A clutch? Because she was rendered infertile. That was why she insisted on 'keeping you'." Voldemort rolled his eyes.

"O-oh." Harry said simply, obviously uncomfortable at the thought of snake habits. Then, he brightened when he thought of a question. "Do you?"

"'Do I' what?"

Harry smiled mischievously. "Do you follow snake habits? You already have a forked tongue..."

H-Harry! Merlin- why?!

"What the-" sputtered Voldemort, staring incredulously at the teen in his hold, "why did you even- Merlin! That was just- I don't!"

"It was a valid question," said Harry in a sing-song voice, giggling at the sputtering both coming from his Tommy and his Voldemort. Though now that he thought of it, don't snakes have two—

Harry! Don't even think about it!

Too late.

"So, do you have two—"

"Stop! No, I don't!"

"Aww, having two pricks would have been an advantage in—"

Harry!

"Harry!"

"—bed. I'm pretty sure if you knocked up someone they would be—"

Voldemort stopped his tirade by holding his mouth close, forgetting that he could have just used magic to silence the teen. Voldemort stood there, horrified. No one ever asked him about that; he had never been scarred so much.

Harry, however, was laughing, but his cheeks were rather red with something he would not like to mention.

They were startled when a wet choking noise broke the relative silence.

"Oh," said Harry as soon as Voldemort removed his hand from his mouth, though it still went back to its position around his waist, not that anyone minded. "We forgot about her."

Voldemort shrugged and let Harry do whatever he wanted, still in shock with their earlier conversation.

Harry proceeded to wake the woman who tried to scream in pain but found her mouth blocked by a gag.

"Now doggy," cooed Harry cheerily, "you have been bad so I won't stretch our time too long. And we already have a time limit! The rust will soon enough poison your blood so I won't even have to care much for you!"

Harry turned his head to look at Voldemort. "What do you want? Bloody or not?"

Voldemort tilted his head before a malicious smirk graced his lipless mouth. "Bloody."

Harry answered with his own grin. He faced the woman again. The woman was too scared now to even move, her head remained still as the rusted needles poked sharply at her skin every move she made.

"Well, what he said!" declared Harry as he summoned a knife from one of the numerous of its cheap kind. He proceeded to use his magic to speed up the process of rusting. "I had the urge to use rusted things. Suits you, I guess."

Harry caressed the knife before suddenly stabbing it to the woman's hand, leaving the knife imbedded in her skin. A high-pitched, muffled scream tore through the woman, as she choked on her own spit while trying, and failing, from not moving her head too much. Harry conjured three more knives and made his magic rust it.

Harry grinned at her sobbing form. "Did that hurt? Don't worry; we'll only repeat that for three more times."

He stabbed her other hand and then proceeded to stab her two feet.

"There! That was fast." said Harry happily, eyeing his handiwork as minimal amount of blood poured out. He frowned. "That's not right, Voldemort said bloody so…" He summoned all the four knives back to him, wrenching it away from where it was stabbed on.

He giggled as his captive choked on her own spit and scream.

"You know," said Voldemort for the first time, staring at the blood slowly pouring out of the stab wounds, "When you said Free Reign, I did not expect it to be like this."

"Well, what did you expect?" asked Harry as he banished the blood covered rusty knives. The woman was now whimpering in pain and Harry thought it was ridiculous since they barely started.

"I honestly didn't expect anything," answered Voldemort, shrugging. "If you taught me something, I was to not expect anything when it comes to you."

Harry laughed. "Why thank you." Harry turned to frown at the crying, whimpering woman on the table. "We should probably finish this quickly, if we prolong this anymore, she would be broken easily."

Harry summoned a carving knife and proceeded to carve random patterns on the woman's skin, ripping her blue blouse when it went in the way. He used his magic to flip the woman over, ignoring the choke he got when her neck stabbed into the numerous needles on the collar. It already looked ridiculous, having many small holes with blood dropping out from the small wounds as it repeatedly got stretched and imbedded.

Harry continued carving on her back, banishing her clothes when he got annoyed with it. He didn't dare carving runes as it was volatile when carved on human skin. He flipped her back up, giggling as he admired his work.

Voldemort's hold, surprisingly, never got detached despite Harry maneuvering all around.

"What do you think I should do next?" asked Harry to Voldemort, tilting his head.

"Maybe you should cut her breasts?"

Harry clapped his hands in delight. "Of course!" He grinned up at the crying woman. "Now doggy, we both know you'll die anyway so you don't have a use for… those."

Picking up the carving knife he had set down earlier, he carved out her nipples, flicking away the cut up flesh to the side, leaving trails of blood in it wake.

"Didn't I say breasts?"

Harry snapped his fingers nodding enthusiastically. "Right! Breasts! Not nipples, fine."

He pulled out two scalpels from his pocket. It had a longer than normal handle but that works for what he was going to do.

"One cut up breast coming up!"

Harry slowly stabbed the scalpel from where the nipple was supposed to be. He stopped when he felt the scalpel bumping into a bone. He did this to the other one as well.

Harry stood up from his slightly bent down position and leaned his back on Voldemort who was watching with amusement, smirking when the woman would look at him pleadingly. Harry crossed his arms with a laugh.

Dramatically, he raised a finger and gestured a stirring motion. The scalpels copied the motion, eliciting a sickening squelch as it sliced, mashed, and cut through flesh, blood pooling around. With magic being used, it was not disturbed at all by the thrashing body.

The woman kept on choking on her screams. Whenever she tried to remove one of the scalpels, an invisible barrier would prevent it, and the scalpels would only stir faster.

"Look, Voldy!" exclaimed Harry excitedly, pointing at the thrashing woman who was repeatedly stabbing herself on the collar. Although, she did start shaking her head left and right, cutting the flesh and not merely stabbing it. "I made shake!" as he said this, the scalpels stopped and dropped itself on the floor.

Harry tilted his head and peered up at Voldemort who started chuckling.

"Yes," said Voldemort, "it is rather suitable for the season."

Harry beamed up at him.

You know, she'll die any time now.

The woman's neck was now a mess of blood and flesh, her breasts the only other thing in a worse state. Some of the mashed flesh was pulled up the opening when the scalpels were pulled out. Her eyes were rolled back and seemed to have finally lost consciousness, gag inside her mouth, dripping with saliva. She disemboweled some time earlier as well but Harry didn't even bother with that one.

::It smells so much of blood and waste… pain.::

Harry startled when he felt something slither up to his legs.

::Nagi!:: hissed Harry as he calmed himself down. ::Don't startle me like that.::

::Yes,:: continued Voldemort, one hand rubbing at his chin, ::Harry can startle rather violently.::

::Sorry.:: said Harry sheepishly, caressing Nagini's head when she's up to his torso.

::Childe! You should change, you smell too strongly of blood::

::Fine.::

No use arguing with the snake; it was like you were arguing with a dead tree rather than a living snake you can understand and talk to.

Harry incinerated the, possibly, alive body, air heavy from the pungent smell of burning flesh. Thank Merlin for magic!

Harry went to disentangle himself from Voldemort, all the while blushing when he realized they had stayed like that the whole time. Tommy was suspiciously silent as well, which led to Harry believing Tommy was being mean to him. Again.

What, no, Harry- I'm not being mean. You have no idea how adorable you look when you're sulking—no what I mean is, you have no idea how boring it is when you refuse to acknowledge me for a whole hour!

Harry pouted as he made his way to his room, Nagini slithering beside him. He knew exactly how it felt like when Tommy didn't acknowledge him; it was like when he had never even knew about Tommy. Lonely—miserable.

He showered quickly and changed his clothes. Looking around to think of anything to do, he shrugged and went to Voldemort's study, Nagini curled around him.

::So Nagi…::

::What is it Childe?::

::Is it true that you went to hunt for a mate?::

::No.::

Harry was about to sigh in relief but Nagini continued. ::I went to hunt for potential mates, found one and proceeded to—::

::Too much information!::

By this time, they had arrived to their destination. Voldemort looked at him in question but Harry just shook his head, a horrified expression on his face.

Not really feeling like sitting on a chair or at the floor, Harry wanted to try to seat on Voldemort's table but opted not to and proceeded to sit on said man's lap.

"Voldy," said Harry, pouting, "comfort me! Nagi just said she had sex with another! My mother, having sex! Too much information!"

Voldemort blinked before smirking. He faced Nagini and caressed her head.

::Nagini, would you care to tell us about your earlier… adventures? I'm sure Harry here would enjoy your tale.::

::Of course, master! As you know, I went to search for—::

Harry covered his ears but could still hear it clearly. He tried escaping but Voldemort trapped him so he stayed there, ears covered with his hands, a traumatized look on his face.

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::

I... have read better fanfics. I feel so guilty for ever trying to write.

I was watching "My Bloody Valentine" while writing this… so yeh. The blood there is soooo not real. Blood isn't that sticky, dammit!

And I am now a proud owner of Voldemort's wand and the Elder wand(Class A replica)! I got it for… roughly 7 dollars each? Well the Elder Wand was roughly 7 dollars and Voldemort's was roughly 6 dollars. They have Ron's, Hermione's, Draco's, and Snape's but not Harry's! Why?! (I actually just found it in a very crowded shopping district in a store selling an actual sized Mjolnir, fuck! I want one it's 60 fucking dollars!)