Here it is, Chapter 9. I've got a few ideas for chapters after this, but some of them I'll just have to make up as I go.

Ledocteur - I know what you're getting at, and it's been bugging me a bit too. I don't want to put in too much detail, because I personally find that a little boring to read in other stories, and sometimes skip over too-detailed paragraphs. That's just me, though. I find that, since it's from Harry's POV, he won't notice a lot since he's only six. (Albeit, a little too intelligent for his age, but hey. I can just put that down to having a part of a smart guys soul in him :D) But not enough detail is a problem, too. I will try to increase the chapter length as best I can, without making them boring to read :P Thanks for the review!

None of this belongs to me.


Burning. Sharp. Pointy. Hurts. Killed Petunia…who's hurting me?

I was floating in some kinda darkness. I felt nothing. Just plain, numb nothing. I liked this. I heard voices above me. One was familiar, the other was completely new. The voices wretched me out of my dream like state.

I sat up sharply, only to groan and grasp my throbbing head as pain burst through it. Warm hands were pushing me back onto the bed, but I shook them off and opened my eyes.

The room was spinning a little, but I could make out a few things. Green walls. Green, silver and black decorative pattern…crimson covers? No. Not crimson covers. Silver covers, covered in what I believed to be blood.

There was no way I was cleaning that up.

"Good to see you've finally decided to wake up." a familiar, lazy drawl commented from nearby.

I jumped, forgetting my thoughts, and snapped my head to the right. Much to it's discomfort. The now-dulling pain came again.

Tom was standing there, all high and superior. Well, at least, he thought he was.

I gave him an odd look. "I never knew I fell asleep." I replied dryly.

The man standing next to him, who I assume pushed me down, raised an eyebrow. He had greasy black hair, black eyes, sallow skin…he reminded me vaguely of Count Dracula.

"How much do you remember?" the Dracula-look-alike asked slowly.

I wrinkled my nose. "Right up until Vernon dropped the knife." I realized a moment too late I'd blown the secret. They knew what he'd done, what he'd been doing.

Crap.

Tom must've seen my wide eyes. He smirked. "I am not a fool, child. I had a feeling something was going on." I scowled at him. "The Muggle is dead, since he got in the way." he commented casually, though I could feel a strange sense of…anger that wasn't my own.

I was silent for a moment, just staring up at him, until he asked another nosy question.

"May I ask how the woman died?" he quizzed me, as the black-haired man began gathering up the various glass bottles and flasks lying around the floor.

I gave him an innocent look. "I have no idea, Tom. You'll have to ask her." I said sweetly. Too sweetly.

He raised an eyebrow. "That would prove rather difficult, seeing as she is dead." he shot back, not letting the damn thing go without a fight.

I let out a huff. "You're the amazing Dark Lord. Figure something out." I muttered, a mocking edge to my voice.

He sneered at me, and turned to the black-haired man, who was ready to leave. "This is Severus Snape. He healed you after your little incident."

I nodded to the man politely. "Pleasure to meet you. Cheers for the healing." I gave him a crooked half-grin.

The strangest thing happened then. The man looked into my eyes, gave a pained flinch, and hurriedly left the room. No reply or anything.

I stared after him as the door slammed shut.

"Is he always like that?" I asked Tom, perplexed, as I swung my legs around the side of the bed.

Tom hummed. "No, not always." he said simply. Typically, he left the mystery unsolved. To me, anyway. "And now poses the question of your living arrangement."

I squinted slightly at him, cocking my head to the side then straightening it again. "Huh?" I asked dumbly, frowning.

He gave an impatient sigh. "Your Muggle guardians are dead. You have no where to live. Now, you have three option. An orphanage, the streets, or here." He paused briefly. "Oh, or you can go ask Dumbledore if he'll find you another home."

Fat chance of that happening.

I pondered over the possibilities. Orphanage was definitely a no. I had been threatened with it enough to know it was not a pleasant place. The streets…well, I could survive, but just barely. There was no way I was going to Dumbledore, so that only left one option…

"If I stay here, what's the catch?" I asked bluntly, kicking my legs against the bottom of the bed.

He gave a victory smirk. "Who says there's a catch?" he asked innocently. An innocent Dark Lord was never a good thing.

I scowled at him. "There's always a catch." I informed him sharply.

His smirk disappeared, face calm and serious once more. "Very well. You may stay here, as long as you don't join the Light side or ruin the Dark."

I blinked. "…That's it? I don't have to fight for you or anything?" I asked in bewilderment.

He snorted on a laugh. "My army is not scarce enough for me to recruit children." he informed me haughtily. "Just follow those rules and you can stay. Now, you can either stay in bed or get up." He shot me a look. "I personally wouldn't sleep on blood-soaked sheets, but I can't speak for you."

I gave him a half-hearted glare, and stood up. I wobbled a little, but grabbed onto the bedside cabnet to straighten myself. "I'll get up. So, is this like my room or…" I left the last part unsaid.

He nodded. "This can be your room, if you like." He glanced at the bed sheets briefly, then said in a commanding tone, "Tinky!"

With a gun-shot crack, the weirdest creature I had ever seen appeared in the - no, my room. Wide, tennis-ball shaped eyes. Floppy ears. Wrinkly skin. A clean pillow-case for clothes.

I yelled out, and jumped back, startled. Tom rolled his eyes (Which looked very strange seeing as his pupils were snake-slits), and smirked at me in amusement. He then turned to the…thing.

"Clean the bed sheets, Tinky, and stock some clothes in the wardrobe." he ordered the creature. To my horror, it actually talked.

"Yes, Master!" it squeaked out in a high-pitched, shrill voice that made me cringe. I had to resist the urge to cover my ears. It disappeared with a crack, and there was a dead silence for all of a second.

"…What the fuck was that?" I shouted, voice a few octaves too high for my likings.

He smirked, again unruffled by my language. Good thing, too, 'cause I wasn't going to stop. "A house-elf. They cook, clean and do basically any chore wizards don't want to do." He paused, looking like he was trying too hard not to laugh. "You should have seen your face."

I glared at him fiercely, folding my arms and scrunching my nose up in what I hoped to be a dangerous expression. No such luck. I only succeeded, yet again, in making myself look like a child throwing a tantrum. Which, really, was what I was doing.

Tom snorted and turned to open the door. He glanced behind him once more, and I could see he was openly grinning now. Unpleasant, let me tell you that.

"Get dressed and come down to the meeting room." He held up a hand to stop my incoming question. "Call for Tinky, she'll tell you where to go."

And, with that, he left and the door swung shut. I had a new home. With the Dark Lord.

Could it get any more messed up?


Heh. Well, there you have it. Harry's moved in with the Dark Lord. Normal? Not a chance. But then again, this is Harry Potter we're talking about :P

I'll be introducing your favorite Dark characters pretty soon. The haughty, the insane, the funny, the dumb...well, maybe not so much the dumb.

Sarcasm will ensue, don't worry. :D