Kyah! So sorry this has taken so long, however I have extremely valid reasons!

Firstly, D-Con was last weekend, and I spent the last two weeks on the run up to it working almost constantly on my outfit! It was such a good weekend though, so much fun and so much anime merch to buy! Now I'm very happy in my bishi-ful room!

Secondly, I've had lab reports to do – sucks, I know!

Thirdly, I've been trying to sort out accommodation for uni next year. Unfortunately I got rejected from my application in halls, so have had to reapply to another hall which is £3000 more expensive – and absolute joke! And, unfortunately renting privately isn't any cheaper!

Fourthly I just rewatched the first one and a half series of code geass, and finally finished the second series (crying my eyes out and causing myself to have an asthma attack - classy, I know). Been in a funk since then :(

So, yes, much has been happening, thus little time to write! Hopefully this chapter will partially make up for it!

Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, I would be rich, and able to buy myself a house in St. A's, thus not having to worry about ending up living out of a cardboard box next year :'(
Hopefully it won't come to that!

Chapter Twenty Five

Voldemort, Harry reflected after their impromptu duel, was very different from Flitwick. He could still feel the excruciating pain he had been submitted to with each failed dodge or lacklustre shield. The way his muscles felt as if they were stretched passed breaking point whilst being simultaneously on fire and in ice. The pain was more than he'd expected, but wasn't what had surprised him. He could easily admit that he never wanted to get hit again after experiencing each different curse, the residual pain assuring him of that, but the way the magic flowed through him, saturated with intoxicating Darkness, Harry had to wonder if there wasn't something quite wrong with him: that, through the pain, something inside of him also enjoyed the experience.

He didn't even want to acknowledge that thought.

And so, after their first battle – with Harry trying his best to conceal his trembling muscles after one too many curses, and Voldemort hardly trying to hide his smirk – he had been led to the manor and Quirrell, whom Harry was surprised to find still alive – he guessed Voldemort did reward those who were helpful to him – brought them dinner then sat quietly at the table, not looking at either of them.

He wondered what they would be doing the next day, knowing that his first duel had been only a test to see how well he could perform just now. Voldemort stood the moment he finished, ordering Harry to follow and leading them both through to a study where they took up residence in, surprisingly, comfortable chairs surrounding the fire in the room, rather than opposite each other at the desk like Harry expected, to show the divide between them.

"You will spend your mornings reading which ever book I assign in here, in silence whilst I work on other, important projects," Harry was sure he wanted to say 'more important projects' but had held back from blatantly scorning him, it was rather surprising to see they were both attempting to not cause any altercations between them, "and then the afternoon practising the spells you learn until I join you for a duel. Meals will be whenever Quirrell announces them and I expect you to attend each of them and be able to discuss what you've learnt. If you can't then there will be a price: I do not stand for any less than the best."

Voldemort gave a dismissive gesture, and Harry stood, though he didn't leave just yet, one question weighing on his mind. "What about Quirrell, where does he stand? From his behaviour after your separation, I would say his services thus far haven't been exactly willing… Will he be a risk at all?"

Voldemort smirked at him, "You are rather Slytherin for a Ravenclaw Potter, always looking after your own interests first. I find it… disappointing that you think I would not be able to keep a firm control over any of my followers." His tone turned cooler at this, not quite icy, and Harry wondered if he was, yet again, overstepping whatever boundaries the Dark Lord had laid down for him.

"But it is understandable, that you feel concerned, you have rather a lot on the line, Potter. Sit down," Harry did, never mind that he had just stood up on order to leave, "Let us discuss the future."

The predatory gleam in his eyes gave Harry pause, but he swallowed forcefully and waited for the coming discussion, not quite sure why he was so tense.

A flick of Voldemort's wand made him jump and he felt a slight red blush crossing his face in embarrassment for showing his apprehension so blatantly, particularly when Voldemort chuckled. However at present he still felt wary whenever the Dark Lord armed himself, unexpectedly.

There was a minute of steep silence that Voldemort seemed content to sit through, watching Harry, whilst Harry felt each muscle in his body start to tense, methodically moving up from his feet.

The door, which he only just realised was directly behind him in his blind spot, opened with a creak and he could only just pick up Quirrell murmuring something as he entered, placing a set of tea on the table between them with shaky hands that Harry watched carefully, in case they would send the scalding water over his lap.

Immediately after placing the set, Quirrell stumbled out the door with a glare from Voldemort following him. Their tea poured itself with a wave of Voldemort's hand before he grasped it when it approached.

Watching Voldemort take a sip of his own before sitting back, Harry eyed the swirling brown depths, extremely cautious as to what he was willing to consume. During dinner he had been able to cast a detection charm discreetly, though chances were Voldemort still noticed: with the man watching his every move from opposite him, Harry wasn't sure what he should do. Having already discussed his self-interest briefly minutes previously, Harry hoped Voldemort wouldn't take great offense at his suspicion.

He flicked his wand out, looking Voldemort, who looked humoured at his action, in the eye. "May I?"

Voldemort smiled, which was more disturbing that any smirk he had seen so far. "Of course Harry. If you feel your security is in question, by all means."

It was obvious from his response that this was another challenge for him, to see how he would react and if he was willing to trust Voldemort.

Casting his detection spell the first items that were appeared were as expected: tea, water, milk, sugar. It was the final one he had been looking for but, if honest, hadn't expected: Veritaserum.

Looking up at Voldemort again shrewdly only to find Voldemort still staring at him intensely, waiting for his next action.

Slowly, keeping his eye on Voldemort, the other watching his own movements, he raised the cup to his lips and took a large sip, ignoring Voldemort's raised eyebrow.

"Why did you drink it?" Voldemort demanded, a look of curiosity crossing his face.

Harry felt the words slipping out his mouth without even a conscious thought as to how he would answer.

"I don't trust you, that was why I cast the spell, but, even without trust, there needs to be an understanding between us. I am the student and I know that, therefore you need to have some amount of authority over me, no matter how much I loathe that thought."

Voldemort smirked, and Harry could tell he was extremely pleased with his response. "So you acknowledge me as your superior?"

Harry felt a smirk wanting to cross his vacant expression already knowing how he would respond, however with the potion's effect, his face remained blank.

"No, you are my teacher: that's different from superior."

Harry watched Voldemort frown, however thankfully it was thoughtful rather than incensed.

"Then how would you consider us in regards to each other, other than a teacher and student?"

Harry watched his own face twist slightly in thought, that was something he hadn't considered: what other form did their relationship take – what would it become once he had learnt all he could and was on longer that student?

"I would base my answer to that on the future; on what I aim to be, an… equal. To hold the sort of power you do, to be able to send shivers down any dark wizard's spine with just the slightest touch of magic, to be able to make enemies quiver before cutting them down. The wizarding world is wrong, the amount of influence muggles hold, the destructive change they wrought upon our society – so much has gone wrong and I don't think that one man, no matter how powerful or what backing he has, can fix the problem alone, nor should he have to. I don't want to surpass you: how would fighting amongst ourselves help promote the dark arts and force change in society? It wouldn't. I want to be strong enough and smart enough to be able to make a difference in the war, working alongside you and your Death Eaters. However, I could never be content with myself working under you. Independence is the most important thing to me: whether I get to the point where I can call myself your equal or not, as long as I don't have to rely on other people to survive, then all else is irrelevant."

Harry decided he must have been more shocked at his own answer than Voldemort, given the elder wizard's almost simplistic thoughtfulness in relation to his own surprise. He had always revered the Dark Lord and the amount of power he held, perhaps most particularly when seeing him surviving as little more than a parasite on Quirrell's head as, despite his weakness, it showed his prowess in that he had endure that long. However he had never realised that his reverence had turned into a desire to equal that strength and be able to cause such drastic change to the wizarding world. People had always told him he would go far: he wondered if that was what they were meaning.

He would have pondered further on his thoughts, but Voldemort gave a quiet 'hm' before glancing curiously at him.

"Come over here, Harry."

Harry stood, doing as he was requested whilst mentally cataloguing the use of his given name again.

He stopped a foot from where Voldemort sat, not sure where he was meant to be but Voldemort simply tugged him closer by his wrist before letting that go in favour of placing a hand around his neck to pull his face down.

Bent over at an awkward angle, Harry had to fight to keep his balance and save himself from an embarrassing collapse into the Dark Lord's lap.

"You might want to kneel," Voldemort suggested off-handedly, pulling Harry's face closer to his own.

As gracefully as possible, Harry dropped from a crouch to his knees, rather uncomfortably as he was pressed against the base of the chair between either of Voldemort's legs: he rather hoped whatever this was wouldn't take long.

Finally the incessant tugging on his neck stopped, leaving only an inch separation between their faces, so that he could easily feel Voldemort's warm breath against his own lips.

He could hardly stop his eyes roving over the Dark Lord's face, taking in the fine structure and flawless skin only really appreciable at such a close distance.

His heart beat spiked, though he wasn't sure why, at the feel of one of Voldemort's hands on his cheek and quickly his cheeks began to heat up.

If he noticed, Voldemort didn't mention it as he was staring intently into Harry's own eyes.

It was only a split second's worth of time, from the increase of his heart rate, to the moment Voldemort spoke next, but Harry was sure something would happen, he would be called out – on what though, he didn't quite understand.

However his focus was brought to Voldemort's own eyes when the man sharing his personal space said, irritably, "Keep your eyes on me, Potter. It's hard enough to try and understand this eye without it moving every other direction!"

Sorry if that last part seemed a bit amateurish or anything, it just came out like that on its own.

And, just to reinforce this: I don't plan for any slash to be happening soon, probably about year four – hopefully! XD

I also don't like Harry's monologue about equals, seemed tacky... but I'm often very self-critical.

Once again, I apologise for how long this chapter took, but, alas, fanfiction must sometimes take backseat to other issues, as explained above.

Let me know what you thought!