Disclaimer: I do not own.
//This is Parseltongue.//
Paraselenic
Sadism // the gaining of pleasure from causing physical or mental pain
"I'm off to bed, guys," he said with a faked yawn.
From the common room couch, where she had been coyly flirting with Dean, Ginny pouted. "It's early, Harry! We all just barely got settled in!"
Harry gave the youngest Weasley an apologetic smile. "I didn't get much rest last night, having to adjust to Ron's deafening snores again."
The rest of the group, which included a few of Ginny's year mates as well as Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, laughed at Ron's expense, and Harry received a face full of pillow for his effort. He grinned at Ron and tossed the pillow back at the redhead. They had all congregated in the Gryffindor common room to relax, deciding to spend their first real night back together. Thankfully, the homework load was less on the first day, though people who had had Potions already had a hefty essay to complete.
"Prat, I'm not that bad," Ron complained. "Neville snores louder!"
"Yeah, but Neville learned the put up a silencing charm over his bed years ago," Dean joined in.
Harry needed to get away if he was going to get out the window unseen and away from the castle, as the other boys would soon be going to bed. He broke into the familiar camaraderie. "G'night, all! I'll see you in the morning."
Hermione waved distractedly from within her Transfiguration textbook, and everyone else gave varying goodbyes. Harry gave another yawn for effect before trudging up the stairs, tapping his robe pocket to be sure the Regression and Reversion potions were in place. It would be too dangerous for Harry Potter to risk being seen anywhere near Riddle Manor, not to mention that Harry would be damned if he would try to conduct a meeting while looking like a sixteen year old.
Arriving in his dorm, he quickly yanked the curtains around his bed shut and cast a locking spell over them. He didn't want anyone to find him absent, so it was better if they were suspicious of him locking his drapes. After changing his school robes for a heavy cloak, Harry pulled his old Firebolt and Invisibility Cloak out of his trunk and unlatched the window, shivering the smallest bit as the chilly night air wafted in. With a last glance around the room he hopped onto his broom and soared into the night, heading towards the edge of the anti-apparition wards.
Behind him, sleepy hazel eyes blinked rapidly at the window, wondering just where Harry was going that late at night.
Harry wiped his watering eyes with the back of his hands, willing away the stinging prickles that the Reversion potion had invoked. Reversion, while not nearly as painful as the Regression was, still hurt like a bitch. He stood slowly and shuddered, trying to clear his head of the echoes of the roaring pain; he was suddenly very glad that he didn't do this often. Adding to the pain was the extreme tightness of his clothing, now. He'd forgotten to take into account the size difference. He had gone from bigger to smaller last time, so this had not been an issue. Now Harry struggled to move and cursed the fact that he had worn one of the few pairs of pants that actually fit his sixteen year old body that day.
The shadows of the forest outside Hogsmeade gave him total privacy anyway, so Harry threw off his heavy cloak and stripped out of his clothing, glad to find that he hadn't ruined his trousers in the transformation. After emptying the pockets, he sighed and shrunk them along with his invisibility cloak, glasses, and his phoenix feather wand. Stuffing them into the cloak pockets, he was glad to at least have boxers on as he pulled the cloak over his shoulders and used a spell to hold the front shut.
Not wasting any time, Harry Apparated into the foyer of Riddle Manor, adjusting the cloak's hood over his head as he observed the few people that milled around the manor at night. Many glanced his way, but few paid him any mind. Harry started on his way to where he knew Voldemort was, ignoring any looks sent his way. He knew he was expected.
Sneering at Pettigrew, who was crouched down in a doze beside the door, he strolled into the office and smirked at Voldemort as he lowered his automatically brandished wand. Harry pushed back his hood as he flopped gracelessly into the seat across from the man's desk. "Do you ever leave this office?"
Voldemort scowled and waved his wand, setting a silencing barrier. "Hello to you too, Potter. Nice to see you. Yes, I had a fine day, tortured Wormtail into a blubbering mess and got some interesting information regarding the Ministry. How about you?"
Harry couldn't help but snicker. "Oh Tom, are you in a mood? I'm sorry I am not following decorum, but you must admit that you are in the exact position I left you in weeks ago."
Voldemort growled, running a spindly hand over his face. "Being a Dark Lord isn't all Death Eater meetings and torture sessions, you know. I have mission reports to read, expenditure charts, missives from allies… you should be helping me with this, Potter, since you are supposed to be a partner in this."
Harry shrugged a shoulder and grabbed a paper off the top of the stack to Voldemort's right. "Well, no one but your Death Eaters know who I am at the moment, so I can't do much to help."
"We're going to have to change that, you know."
"Ah, but how? I refuse to go on a killing spree just to get my name out. If there was a worthwhile raid planned, I could accompany you. That would surely get the message out."
"We'll figure it out." Voldemort propped his chin on laced fingers, suddenly looking drained.
"Have you been sleeping, Tom? Pardon, but you look more like shite than usual."
A scowl. "Thanks, Potter."
The joking smile faded, and Harry leaned forward in his seat. "Honestly Tom, what's wrong with you?"
"Showing concern for the Dark Lord? Honestly, Gryffindors."
"Oh shut up," Harry said seriously, bright eyes narrowing, "I don't know what's crawled up your arse, but knock it off. We don't know each other especially well yet, but I'm not blind. When something is wrong with you it affects me as well, as we will not be getting anything done with you acting like a prat."
Voldemort's lipless mouth curved into a wry smirk. "I'm tired, Potter. Lucius was able to regain his job at the Ministry, but with considerably less influence. I've been planning for over a week straight on the best way to handle this situation, but I keep finding loopholes in my plans. Fudge needs to get out, but I don't want someone like Scrimgeour taking his place; a fanatic like him would be worse. I want to add more of my men into the system, but that raises the chance of someone catching on. I want to start recruiting those who are disillusioned within the Auror ranks, but one wrong person and more problems will arise."
Harry propped his elbows on the desk resting his chin on his hands with far-off eyes as he thought out loud. "Fudge is easily manipulated, leave him. You should add people, despite the risks, the more there are the better. And you can always stage another raid on Azkaban if a few of your men get caught. Don't bother with the Aurors, there are too few who would even consider dissent for it to be viable. You should set Lucius rebuilding his contacts, making new ones. Despite his loss of power, he is still a prominent wizard and now that his allegiances are suspected, those people who do want to know more would want to go to him, as a powerful and well-known pureblood."
Voldemort inclined his head. "They were rhetorical questions, Potter. I know very well the best course of action. But it seems the years have been good to your practical intelligence as well. Salazar knows you had little of it when you were a teenager."
"I was a child forced into a war with no training. Don't tell me you expected me to be some kind of prodigy as well?"
"No, but you held your own for a brat, I admit. Do you realize how much of a blow to my ego it was to be thwarted by a child a tenth of my age so many times?"
Harry couldn't help smirking. "Was ickle Voldie's self-esteem bruised?"
"Oh, shut up Potter. Now, I'm going to call Lucius in here to relay the plans; is that acceptable?"
"I thought they were rhetorical."
Voldemort scowled. "They were. But your points managed to sway me. Now, shall I call in Lucius?"
With a nod from Harry, Voldemort dissipated the silencing spell and barked out in a harsh tone, "Wormtail!"
A few moments of silence passed and Harry sneered pointedly. "The git was sleeping in the corner across from your door when I arrived, he probably still is."
Voldemort looked livid as he stormed to the door, flinging it open with a loud crash. Harry leaned around his armchair to watch the doubtlessly entertaining scene and enjoy the pain of one of the few people he could bring himself to hate. "Wormtail," Voldemort hissed menacingly at the now cowering man. "How dare you neglect your duties, impudent fool!"
Harry let a satisfied smirk cross his face as this was followed by a Cruciatus, the wails of the rotund traitor echoing through the office. Harry relished in the pain he knew was being inflicted in a way he had never relished in pain before, a warm rush shooting down his spine. He grinned as Voldemort delivered a swift kick to the rat's side once the curse was lifted, sending him scurrying off to find the Malfoy patriarch.
Voldemort turned in time to see the look on his face, smirking as he returned to his desk. "Enjoy that, did you?"
Harry shared a wicked grin with the Dark Lord. "Only with that bastard."
Harry had pondered the night before just how he could move past Voldemort having killed his parents yet still wish for Pettigrew's death for simply giving him the opportunity to. It had been a simple conclusion, really. Voldemort had never been their friend. Voldemort had always been a straightforward man; he liked you and you were in favor, he didn't and you were either dead or wished you were. Pettigrew had no spine and had betrayed people who had shown him nothing but kindness. Harry welcomed the nearly euphoric feeling that spread through him with the Peter's pain.
"In the meantime, is there anything you have to report from Hogwarts yet?"
"Just one thing. Dante, my martial arts and dueling instructor from Sceaduwe Citadel, ended up being asked by Valerian to come back in time as well, to watch over me or some such nonsense. However, this is advantageous in that he is the new Defense professor, and so even without confirming Snape's loyalties I have someone to cover for me."
Crimson eyes had widened just a bit, and Voldemort steepled his hands under his chin. "You're on a first name basis with the Marquis Valerian?"
"Don't act like he's something special if he happens to check up on me, Val's ego is big enough as it is."
"It would be… extremely advantageous if we could secure an alliance with him; do you realize the power he commands?"
"Of course I do, it is his blood that made me what I am, and I have been his closest confidant these last few years. I am sure Val wouldn't be opposed to helping out or giving support, though he won't be doing much himself. I can say this surely, as he was rarely gone from the Citadel in the years I stayed there. I would know," he said wryly.
Voldemort looked at him questioningly, but Harry merely smirked. The two shared a moment of strangely comfortable silence before Harry perked up, looking sheepish. "Hey Tom… this is going to sound strange, but do you have a pair of trousers I can borrow? You're taller than me, but I can make do."
Harry nearly laughed at the comical look that overtook Voldemort's face, an incredulous lift of his brow that left one of his eyes twitching. "And… why do you need trousers?"
"I forgot that I was going to grow five inches and a fair amount of muscle mass when I used the Reversion potion…" Harry illustrated this by yanking on the top of his cloak, exposing his bare collarbone and shoulder. "While my state of undress is hidden, it's rather uncomfortable sitting here in nothing but my undergarments and a cloak."
Voldemort snorted and swished his wand, and moments later a folded black pile came through the still open door, sailing toward the desk. "I hope these are… acceptable," Voldemort said with a leer that made Harry nervous.
It made sense when he actually looked at the bundle, and a chuckle escaped his lips as he stood. "You just want to see me in leather, don't you, Tom? I'm flattered."
The leer intensified. "You grew up well, can you blame me?"
Harry laughed and canceled the spell holding his cloak shut, letting it slide off his shoulders and pool at his feet. He didn't have to look towards the Dark Lord to know he was watching. " You were a looker in your school years. It's a pity, really, that you're all… icky. No offense meant, of course, but you have to know what I'm talking about. I tend to prefer my men with noses," Harry said offhandedly as he bent to push his feet into the dragonhide trousers.
"Things are not always as they seem," Voldemort murmured, and Harry glanced toward him over his shoulder as he pulled the pants up, a strange sensation traveling down his spine at the heated look he was receiving. He ignored the shiver and raised an eyebrow for clarification as he stood and faced him, but Voldemort was too distracted to answer, choosing to rake his eyes down Harry's half naked form. Harry couldn't fight the heating of his face, pink spreading over the bridge of his nose and across his cheekbones.
He had just managed to close the clasp of the pants, scowling at the way the legs continued past his feet and called attention to his height, when Lucius Malfoy swept into the room, making it halfway to the Dark Lord's desk before halting at the sight of 'Mylläkkä' standing topless in leather pants. Harry's sheepish blush vanished instantly, a smirk appearing on his face. "Now this one, on the other hand…" He heard a muffled snort from Voldemort and Harry's smirk turned lopsided. "Hullo there, Pretty, like what you see?" he purred, making Lucius stop his perusal and force a blank look.
Lucius ignored Harry completely, obviously still sore from their first meeting. Though the area around his mouth was tight with irritation, his face was blank as he swept into a bow before Voldemort. "You called for me, my lord?"
Voldemort's eyes were amused, but he remained serious. "You will be extending your contacts and feeling out your old ones within the Ministry. As Mylläkkä here pointed out, you are still an influential and well-known pureblood. Any dissenters in the ministry would go to you before any other."
Grey eyes cut over to Harry, whose smirk broadened enough to show a flash of fang. "In the coming months, plenty of things will be happening that will make people's faith waver. Though you were cleared, most everyone is aware that you really are a Death Eater now, and those who question the Light will see you as an obvious choice to speak to."
"Understood, my lords."
"Hmm... I think I like the sound that, Tom."
"You would."
"Oh, don't give me that, Mr. 'No-One-Can-Say-My-Name'."
Lucius had looked surprised when Harry had insulted Voldemort, but he looked petrified when the only response to his flippancy was a chuckle. "It isn't like that ever stopped you, brat."
"Of course not. I've never been all that scared of you, bar a few more extreme situations.".
"Well, unless you have other business with him, I'm going to send Lucius off now."
Harry pursed his lips in thought, shrugging. "Unless I'm allowed to toy with him some more, I guess he can go."
Lucius scowled. "I am going to make you regret accosting me. No one dares to toy--"
Voldemort, who had been fingering his wand, turned it on the Malfoy. "Crucio. You shouldn't disrespect your superiors, Lucius."
The blond dropped to his knees and whimpered, the spell still holding. His pride made him try to keep from screaming, but both Voldemort and Harry knew it wouldn't last. Lucius fell onto his back, arching off the ground and a bit of blood trickling from his mouth where he had bitten his lip, and Harry sauntered over with a smirk. One leg on either side of his body, Harry leaned down over Lucius, a finger tracing his jaw. "Come on, Lucius, let me hear you scream…"
Furious and pained grey eyes locked with Harry. He gave a smirk in return. "Come now, Pretty. If you scream for me, I'll have dear Tom release the spell."
Whether it was this promise or simply being unable to hold it any longer, scream he did. The blond arched violently, eyes rolling back and only making Harry's grin widen. He waved a hand at Voldemort, and the Dark wizard obliged him by cutting off the curse. Harry crouched over Lucius and watched the man's body twitch, one tanned hand still tracing over aristocratic features. "It's impressive that he can be so pretty even like this."
Harry stood and moved away before the blond could retaliate, grinning at Voldemort. The Dark Lord smirked. "You have a sadistic streak, I see."
"I think I'm noticing that."
Voldemort turned crimson eyes on Lucius. "You are dismissed."
The blond tried to regain his dignity as he rose on wobbling legs, bowing and leaving without another word. Harry finally picked up the cloak he had neglected and put it over his shoulders, not bothering this time to seal it. He noted with amusement that Voldemort's eyes often strayed to the exposed skin, and wasn't sure why exactly that made him feel so smug. He was used to being looked at this way; since he had 'grown up', he had gotten his fair share of attention. Perhaps it was that it was Voldemort, his childhood nemesis that was staring at him so hungrily.
Nonchalantly, Harry leaned forward and snatched the quill out of Voldemort's hand, using it to mark a few points on a report from a raid the week before. Voldemort's eyes blinked several times before a scowl settled over his face. "Brat, give that back."
"Your mind was away from you." Harry smirked, looking up through his lashes. "So I figured one of us should be working."
Voldemort huffed and conjured another quill, snatching a paper off the stack. "Insufferable. How am I going to survive this war working with you? Is that your plot? Kill me off by driving me nuts?"
Harry winked, "We'll see, Tom. We'll see."
Revised: 3/18/09
