Hey guys,
I must warn you, I was on a LOT of coffee while writing this chapter so who knows how this will go...
Anyways, for all you Superbowl fans wasn't Madonna incredible? I know, I know, totally unrelated to Harry Potter, but I needed to say it lol
Well I hope you enjoy and remember to review and tell me what you think...
Lots of love,
Jessie
Chapter 10
Harry the Brat:
It had been a week since Harry had arrived at Riddle Manor.
He was feeling rather accomplished, as he was now able to navigate himself around as quickly and easily as Voldemort himself, which was definitely saying something considering how large the fortress really was. Of course, there were exceptions, as certain floors and halls were off limits, the Dark Lord expressively forbade him to enter them and even threatened him with some rather... nasty curses should he disobey.
All in all, Harry was adjusting quite nicely to not only the manor, but to the constant presence of the one he was once taught to fear.
Then again, Harry had never been one to cower, he actually enjoyed the adrenaline rush that accompanied the fondle of terror.
As the days had gone by he was becoming rather adapted to the daily happenings, such as the erratic death eater meetings he was always forbidden from joining, dining with the Dark Lord every morning, night, and sometimes even noon, as well as the gigantic python he had yet to forgive, but still continued to follow his every move.
He had a feeling that Voldemort had probably ordered her to watch over him, but actually found himself not being bothered by the thought that he was under constant surveillance, instead he decided to look at it as the Dark Lord's way of keeping an eye on him and maybe even... caring?
It was then that Dobby appeared inside of his room. Originally, his personal elf was going to be Grumpy, but after a loud and long quarrel with the Dark Lord concerning that topic, which had resulted in several stinging hex's sent his was, he had eventually gotten Dobby, as he still wasn't on the best of terms with Grumpy after the whole... book incident. However, he found himself absolutely adoring the small, large eyed house elf he had gotten as a replacement.
"Good morning Mister Harry Potter Sir, Master be calling yous, he's waiting in the dining room, he wants to talks to yous about some things."
Harry nodded, "Okie dokie Dobby, tell him I'll be there in a minute, I still have to get dressed."
"Will Mister Harry Potter Sir be needing any other help?"
"No, I think I'll be fine, I'll call you if I need anything, thanks Dobby."
With a quick nod of the head and a snap of his fingers the elf disappeared once more.
Yawning, Harry managed to successfully pull back the covers and climb out of bed without any issues.
Sliding his feet into a pair of warm slytherin green slippers with the silver initials H.P. on them, he padded over towards his wardrobe and pulled out a pair of black slacks, a white long sleeved, button up polo, and a dark green sleeveless sweater vest to go with it. Grabbing a pair of black socks in favor of shoes he took a brush and quickly combed through his unruly hair before leaving his room and heading towards the dining hall.
Running and then sliding down the hall in his socks, he almost ran into several statues however managed to stay on his feet, and when he finally reached the stairs, he hopped down them two at a time, only slipping once, but managing to grab onto the bannister before he completely landed on his arse.
Finally, he spotted the large, wooden, double doors that led to the dining room, grasping the knobs and pulling them open, he slid into the room, only to meet the dark glare of a very vexed Voldemort.
Harry smiled sheepishly, while walking over to his usual spot next to the man, who always sat at the head of the table, even when it was just the two of them.
"Uhhh... hi." He greeted lamely, but again was only meant by the frowning face of a fuming Dark Lord.
"Oh good, it's only you... with all the pounding I would've imagined a hippogriff had broken into my manor and was wildly storming about."
The Dark Lord stated cooly, while sending an annoyed look the boys way.
"Uhhh huh ha sorry about that." Harry replied throughly chastened.
Voldemort gave him one more glare before letting the topic drop and changing to a new one, that was just as humiliating for Harry.
"Would you mind telling me exactly what's wrong with the half of a dozen designer leather loafers I purchased for you only a few days ago?"
The boy looked confused before responding, "Nothing's wrong with them, why would you assume that?"
"Well I presumed that the notion of having shoes was so that one could wear them, not go around sliding about, undignified in his socks instead."
Harry scowled, "But trainers aren't half as fun as wearing socks, they're pinchy and my feet don't have room to stretch in them."
"I apologize, I didn't realize you had to 'stretch' your feet all the time, in fact I didn't even realize one could stretch his feet." Voldemort snidely replied.
Harry pouted.
Rolling his eyes, the Dark Lord changed the subject matter and started addressing another issue.
"Alright child, the real reason I wanted to talk to you was about how I haven't been around as much lately and I'm sure you've had a lot of questions you've been dying to ask, so I'm going to spare a few moments and dedicate them to indulging your curiosity.
Harry smiled excitedly. Finally he'd be able to get some information!
"Uhh okay, well I do have one question..."
"Yes?" Replied the Dark Lord, interested in what the boy was so intrigued about.
"Okay, don't take this the wrong way but uhm how do you... breathe?"
Silence.
Mind numbing glower.
Silence.
Twitching eyebrow.
Silence.
"Uhm, never mind, you don't have to answer that", Harry replied awkwardly.
Clenching fist.
Silence.
"So uhhh, what's your real name?" Harry boldly questioned instead.
Deciding that at least this question wasn't offensive, Voldemort mused over whether to tell the child before replying, "Tom, Tom Riddle, was my birth name however, I despise it, as it was handed to me by my filthy muggle father, so you are absolutely forbidden to ever call me that, do you understand?"
Harry nodded thoughtfully.
The Dark Lord continued, "However most people refer to me as "you know who..."
"What?" Harry replied gobsmacked!
"I'm so sorry, that's awful, why would people call you that, that's so... mean!"
Voldemort looked strangely at the queer child, "What are you talking about?" He questioned throughly confused.
"Well, you know, I'm sure it hurt your feelings when people called you 'you know poo', I mean that's really rude!"
Breathe in, breathe out.
Breathe in, breathe out.
Breathe in, breathe out.
Snap.
"No, you stupid, dense dimwitted child, they called me 'you know who', 'WHO!"
Harry scowled.
"A bit touchy are we?"
Voldemort gripped the table cloth in his two fists, attempting to restrain himself from killing the little brat.
1, 2, 3, 4, 5.
1, 2, 3, 4, 5.
1, 2, 3, 4, 5.
"I mean it is partially your fault, who picks a nick name like Voldemort, honestly I'm just surprised people don't call you "Moldy Voldy", actually come to think of it, I bet your followers do behind your back, I would... Moldy Voldy, Moldy Voldy, Moldy Voldy, it has a nice kind of ring to it, don't ya think?"
Breathe in, breathe out.
Breathe in, breathe out.
Breathe in, breathe out.
"Ohhhhh, instead of 'you know poo' they could call you 'The Dark Turd', you know, instead of the Dark Lord, that's a good one too, right? Oh and I bet if you ever got like an ugly wart they could call you 'Voldewart."
1, 2, 3, 4, 5.
1, 2, 3, 4, 5.
1, 2, 3,
OH SCREW IT!
"You stupid, foolish, dense, dimwitted, ignorant, brainless, unintelligent, witless, idiotic, pea-brainied, daft, mindless, slow, simpleminded, idiot child!"
Harry glared.
"They do not and never have nor will call me those things and if you'd like to keep your tongue and your ability to speak, neither will you!"
Harry scrunched up his face angrily!
"I hate you, you're mean and a big bully!" He screamed at the top of his lungs while jumping up from the table, his chair falling onto its back and making a mad dash to the sanctuary of his bedroom.
"Don't you dare slam that door!" Voldemort yelled while hearing the boy pound up the stairs.
SLAM!
SLAM!
SLAM!
"That's it, young man, you're in a lot of trouble! I'm going to count and you have till three to get back down here and apologize for acting childish, storming off, and slamming your door!"
"ONE!" Voldemort shouted!
SLAM!
"TWO!"
SLAM!
"THREE!"
SLAM!
"THAT'S IT, I'M COMING UP THERE!"
SLAM!
SLAM!
SLAM!
Voldemort pounded on the table in frustration! The audacity and gall that boy had was unheard of! Taking a breath, he calmly rubbed his temples and forced himself to relax before he did something he'd later regret.
Ordering a herbal tea from a house elf while instructing Dobby to go send a sandwich up for the boy since he'd yet to eat and he didn't need an even crankier Potter, Voldemort settled back in his chair and took a few tranquil breaths.
He should throw all his plans out the window! He had a whole new idea of how to achieve world domination. He simply had to deage his followers and set them free on the streets of London. A say 13 to 14 year old Bellatrix Lestrange invading your home was an absolutely terrifying concept, enough to make even the strongest of men wet his trousers!
Sighing, Voldemort screeched his chair out from the table and strolled up to his office, deciding to let the boy calm down for a while before confronting him.
Who knew having a ward would be so tiring?
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