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Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters...

The first thing Harry noticed when he woke up the next morning, was that he was being watched. The second he he noticed, was the one watching him was a snake. A very big snake.

Reacting instinctively, he bolted up in bed, and it was only then that he remembered where he was, and what had happened. He was in Voldemort's manor, which meant this snake had to be Nagini, and wow, he'd actually manage to live through the night. Weird. He honestly hadn't been sure if he would, not that he was complaining or anything.

"Good morning, hatchling," the snake greeted politely. "You still smell tired."

Harry couldn't help but smile. "I only just woke up, Nagini. Give me a couple of hours, and I'll be fine." He sighed, stretched, then asked, "Where's Voldemort?"

"In his study. Shall I tell him you're awake?"

The teen shrugged. "Sure. I'm going to shower." He watched Nagini slither off the bed, across the room, and through the open door, and once she was gone, Harry himself got out of bed and padded over to the adjoined bathroom...


When a fully dressed Harry emerged from the bathroom, he found the Dark Lord waiting for him in the bedroom. He paused, blinked, and then resumed drying his hair. "Sooo," he spoke after a rather awkward moment of silence, "where do we go from here?"

Voldemort had absolutely no idea how to answer that, because not even a night of sleep had clarified things for him. Well, he supposed the biggest reason all this had happened was because Harry was his Horcrux, which meant his safety was now paramount, which meant staying with the Dursleys was out of the question, not that that was a possibility anymore.

"Come," the Dark Lord said finally. "We will discuss this over breakfast." He lead the way out of the room, hearing the boy drop the towel on the bed before following behind him. There was another important matter too, he realized. Revealing his true appearance. He disliked having to keep himself disguised when there was no need, after all...

A few minutes later, the two were seated at a table, eating breakfast. They were quiet at the moment, both of them thinking of the best way to broach what was on their minds.

Harry knew he was a Horcrux, or assumed so, at least, and wanted it confirmed, just to be sure. He was guessing that the only reason Voldemort had bothered helping him and bringing him here was because of that possible fact. But what did that mean for him now? Killing him would harm the soul piece inside of him as well, and there was no telling what would really happen, seeing as the book had claimed no one had ever made a human Horcrux before.

Harry didn't want to become a Death Eater or anything either. He had no desire to hurt or kill anyone not named Umbridge, Wormtail, or Bellatrix. Well, for the most part. So what was going to happen to him now that he was here? What was Voldemort going to do? What was he going to do?

Across the table, Voldemort was just as unsure as his...guest was. Harry was going to be safe here, so that was a good thing, but what about beyond that? What was the boy going to do about school? His future? Ah, and there was still the matter of informing his Death Eaters, of course. That wasn't bound to end well.

"So," said Harry suddenly. "You turned me into a Horcrux." It wasn't a question.

Voldemort inclined his head. "Unintentionally, but yes."

"And how does something like this happen 'unintentionally'?"

If he wasn't the Dark Lord, Voldemort would have shrugged. "I cannot say."

"Right, and er, what're we going to do about this?"

Dammit, they had gone right back to that, hadn't they?

"Nothing," replied Voldemort finally.

Harry blinked. "Nothing?" he echoed in confusion.

"Nothing. You claimed you were willing to go neutral in this war, because you do not wish to fight. That is fine, in my opinion. You are my Horcrux, and thus, are under my protection. In fact, at this point, I would tell you not to fight regardless of your opinion. It is merely an advantage that you already have no desire to."

Slowly, Harry nodded. "That makes sense and all, I think, but what about Dumbledore and the Light? There's no way they're going to let me get away without fighting."

"If you can survive through one more year, then perhaps you will be able to do just that-get away."

The teen blinked. "How? Why one year?"

Here, Voldemort smirked. "Dumbledore is dying."

"...What?"

"He was too curious for his own good, and put his hands on a particular object I put a curse on myself. This curse was then transferred to him, and while Severus has managed to contain it in one of the old man's hands, it will still spread, albeit slower than meant to. He has one year, at the very least, until he dies due to this curse."

Harry just blinked again, and stared. This...was not something he had been expecting to hear. Dumbledore had always come across as being more immortal than Voldemort, just because of the way he spoke and behaved. He just seemed like one of those people who would never die. And now, here he was being told that Dumbledore's own-own idiocy was essentially killing him.

Scrubbing his hands over his face, Harry thought hard. "Okay, so there's that, and I guess that's good. But everyone probably thinks you kidnapped me from Privet Drive, right? And I have every intention of going back to Hogwarts in September. So what do we do about that? I can't just show up when they know I've been missing, and they aren't going to buy me being a rebellious teenager and just heading off on my own."

Voldemort was silent for a moment, seemingly thinking before he spoke again. "Tell me, have you turned sixteen yet?"

"Er, what's the date today?"

"The third of August."

"Then yes, I have."

The man inclined his head, running a long, sharp nail over his lipless mouth. "Before we decide what else to do, there is something quite important that we must take care of first."

"And that is?"

"A trip to Gringotts. Dumbledore has placed a magic dampener on you, and this is greatly affecting your magic. Affecting it in a very negative manner."

Harry stiffened, and his eyes narrowed. "Negative in what way exactly?" he questioned intently.

"Essentially, what a magic dampener does is siphon away your magic," the Dark Lord explained calmly. "Depending on the type used, the magic either vanishes away into nothingness, or is transferred to the one who placed the dampener on the victim. It is hardly something that should be used on anyone not yet of age, because their magic is not properly developed or stable, meaning too much magic can be dampened, easily causing death."

Harry listened to all that, and then, slowly, asked, "And which kind of dampener is on me?"

Voldemort shook his head. "I cannot say. Severus found out from Dumbledore himself that there is indeed one in place, but he did not elaborate. Only a goblin will be of help to you now. They are the only ones who can remove them, and it will be quite expensive."

"I don't care about money! I want this fucking thing off me!"

"I know, Harry. We will come up with a plan, and then we will go. You are in no immediate danger, but the sooner the magic dampener is removed, the better."

Harry nodded, sighed, took a large sip of water, swallowed, then said, "By the way, what happened to all that hissing you were doing before?"

The Dark Lord needed no elaboration, and hesitated for a brief moment. No, there really was no reason not to do this. Besides, the more time he spent with this glamour up, the more magic he was wasting. With a flick of his wrist, he allowed his glamour to drop, revealing his true appearance.

Harry stared, taking in the soft looking skin, the dark hair, the nicely shaped yet still red eyes, the nose, the-Well hello, surprise boner. How've you been? He cleared his throat. "So, this is what you really look like, huh?"

"Indeed."

"And do you still want me calling you Voldemort? Or are you back to being Tom?"

"Marvolo. Call me Tom, and I will castrate you in your sleep."

Harry winced. "Marvolo it is." He sipped more water, eyeing the man, who couldn't have been a bit more than a decade older than him in face, and then spoke again. "So, Marvolo, what's the plan for Gringotts?"

And so the plotting between the Dark Lord and Boy-Who-Lived finally properly began...

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