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After getting over the initial shock, Harry finally asked,

"Shopping for what?"

Voldemort peered over his newspaper and spoke,

"Shopping for you, Harry. The meeting is in 2 days' time, not counting today. You lack the proper wardrobe to attend it. And as my spouse, it is of paramount importance that you look your best."

Harry finished his juice and Voldemort stood up. Harry got up to his feet as well and his gaze fell upon the newspaper. A picture of him was looking up at him from the page and the heading above it read

"Official search terminated for The Boy Who Lived"

Voldemort folded the newspaper and vanished it. Harry finally decided to ask,

"Why was it terminated?"

"You have been missing for two months now. That is the official time after which the ministry begins considering the victim to be deceased."

Harry spoke through numb lips,

"Deceased as in dead?"

"Yes, Harry. Unfortunately, Dumbledore and his band of fools are still searching for you. Then again, that will be corrected very soon."

Harry looked up and Voldemort saw hope glimmering in Harry's green eyes. He was waiting petulantly for the day when it would be extinguished completely. Voldemort waved away the topic and summoned a jacket. He handed it to Harry and Harry put it on. Voldemort pointed his wand towards Harry's face and cast a glamour. Voldemort pulled out a small white container from inside his pocket and handed it to Harry,

"Do you know how to wear these?"

Harry looked down and saw a pair of contact lenses. He hadn't expected Voldemort to possess something so muggle. Harry shook his head in no,

"I've never worn them before. Why do I need to wear them? You can just change my eye colour temporarily through a glamour"

"Changing your eye colour is not difficult, Harry. However, your glasses pose a problem. These lenses are tailored according to your eye sight."

Voldemort pulled away his glasses and told Harry to sit down on the chair. Harry did as he was told,

"Do not close your eyes."

Voldemort bent Harry's head back until he was staring up directly at the blurred outline of the canopy. He pulled out on of the lens on his finger and held Harry's right eye open. Harry gulped visibly and Voldemort gently spoke,

"It's only a lens, Harry. Relax."

Voldemort smirked internally. It was more than just a lens. It was enchanted and connected to his surveillance mirror so that if Harry managed to escape during the trip, his mirror would show what Harry was seeing and his location. Voldemort placed the lens carefully over Harry's right eye,

"Blink, Harry. The lens will adjust by itself."

Harry blinked and Voldemort repeated the process with his other eye. Once he was done. Harry looked around and realized that he could see everything ten times clearer. He could see the small details in everything. Voldemort summoned a mirror and held it to Harry's face. Someone entirely less looked at him through the mirror. His eyes were a shade of clear blue, the scar was gone from his forehead and his hair had been tamed and were a hue of chocolate brown. The lines around his face had been somehow accentuated to make him look older. Harry pushed the mirror away. It was him, behind a different face.

Voldemort was pleased with Harry's disguise. He was completely unrecognizable. Voldemort cast a glamour over himself and admired himself in the mirror. His crimson irises were now a shade of dark brown. When he was satisfied with everything. He took Harry's arm in his tightly and they apparated. When Harry's feet touched solid ground again, he felt dizzy. Voldemort held Harry up and kept a tight hold around his waist until Harry was feeling stable enough.

Harry looked around and realized that they weren't in Diagon Alley. It didn't even look like they were in London anymore. Voldemort read his thoughts and spoke,

"We're in Paris, Harry."

They walked into the street. Harry was engulfed with thousands of different kinds of scents. When he tried to discern them, he realized that he couldn't. The street was filled with colours or maybe he found the colours more vivid because of the lenses he was wearing. He spotted several stalls filled with magical ornaments and trinkets to know that it was a wizard's market. Voldemort had walked to a shop with a sign board labelled, "La boutique de Simone". Harry followed him and they entered the shop.

A little bell on the door went ding and a woman in her sixties, with white hair that looked like tufts of cloud glued to her head, rushed out to greet them,

"Bienvenue! Comment puis-je vous aider"

Harry couldn't understand a word she said but Voldemort smiled benignly and pointed towards Harry,

"Mon neveu a besoin de robe. Nous ne devons nous contenter que de la meilleure qualité."

She clapped her hands and a plainly dressed younger woman rushed their way. She ushered Harry to stand on a raised platform and began measuring him with her wand. As she measured, she wrote them down on a piece of parchment. Harry felt awkward. He had never been too good with measurements,

"Stand still, Harry."

Harry hadn't realized that he had been unconsciously fidgeting and immediately stilled. When the woman was done with the measurements. She disappeared into the room and after a few minutes came back holding several boxes stacked in her arms. She placed them infront of the old lady and disappeared back into the room. The old witch opened the first one and took out a pair of wine colored robes that were made with some heavy fabric. She invited Voldemort to feel the fabric but Voldemort was looking from the robes towards Harry. And he thought that this colour wouldn't go well with Harry's green eyes or dark hair at all. He finally spoke in a perfect French accent,

"Je n'aime pas cette couleur"

Harry looked around the shop while Voldemort sampled the other fabrics and colours. His gaze fell upon a set of robes displayed in a glass box in the far corner of the shop. Voldemort looked up at Harry and followed Harry's gaze to the glass case. He walked close to him and snapped his fingers close to Harry's ear. Harry fell out of the trance and immediately turned to face Voldemort. Voldemort saw an odd look in Harry's eyes, fear mingled with something else that he couldn't place. Voldemort held Harry's shoulders and asked,

"What happened, Harry?"

Harry's gaze wandered over to the glass case again and Voldemort walked to the glass case. He saw a pair of black robes, blacker than the night, with two snakes embroidered on the panels. The embroidery was done with threads of such vivid colours that the snake looked ready to spring out of the robes. The old woman followed him and spoke,

"Ceux-ci appartenaient à Salazar Slytherin."

Voldemort was fascinated by them. But why had Harry been afraid?

"Come here, Harry."

Harry stepped down from the platform and walked to Voldemort. The expression of fear grew on Harry's face,

"What is the matter, Harry?"

"Can't you hear them whispering?"

Voldemort walked closer to the glass case and listened intently and indeed he heard whispering. It was parseltongue. He couldn't discern what they were whispering. It fascinated him though that Harry had heard the whispering from a considerable distance away. He hungered to study them closely. If they belonged to Salazar Slytherin, and judging by the parseltongue they certainly did, then he needed to have them. Voldemort finally spoke,

"Combien coûtent-ils?"

The old woman dismissed his question with a wave of her hand,

"Ils ne sont pas à vendre."

Harry saw rage flit through Voldemort's face but it was gone as soon as it had come. He waved his wand and summoned a pouch full of galleons. She looked at the pouch with scorn and turned her back to Voldemort,

"Quitter mon magasin."

Voldemort laughed darkly and a shiver ran down Harry's spine. It didn't mean anything good. Voldemort had his wand pointed towards the back of the old witch and spoke,

"Adieu madame."

A green flash of light filled the room and when it disappeared, the old witch was laying sprawled on the floor. A cry had almost escaped Harry's lips when Voldemort forced his hand to Harry's mouth and effectively quietened him. Tears ran down Harry's eyes and he struggled against Voldemort but Voldemort's inhuman grip held him in place,

"Sssshhh Harry."

Voldemort dragged Harry to a straight backed wooden chair, a few steps to the right and threw Harry in it. Before Harry could make a sound or a move an inch, he was gagged, his wrists were restrained behind the chair and his ankles were restrained to the legs of the chair. Tears continued to flow down his cheeks but Voldemort wiped them away,

"This shall not take long."

Voldemort stepped over the dead body and made his way to the room in the back of the shop. Harry wanted to scream. Voldemort was going to kill her just like he had killed the old woman. He struggled against the bindings but it was no use. Harry saw a green flash emanate from the room, Voldemort had disappeared in and a scream escaped his lips. He screamed into the gag and struggled harder.

Voldemort stepped out of the room, returned to Harry and showed him a small gold key. Harry closed his eyes tightly and tears continued to stream down his cheeks. Voldemort strode casually to the glass case and unlocked it. He pulled the robes out and felt the fabric between his fingers. His gaze travelled to the struggling form of Harry and he knew that he had found the perfect robes for Harry.

Harry's struggling had stopped and he had grown still. Voldemort carefully placed the robes in a box and vanished them. He made his way to Harry and kissed his head,

"Harry, there is no need to be so upset."

Harry had grown numb from the angst and helplessness. He had been unable to do anything to save them. He could have done something. He could have warned them. He could have begged Voldemort to spare them. But he hadn't been able to do anything. Voldemort removed the restraints and the gag. A choked sob escaped Harry's lips and Voldemort held a finger to them,

"Ssshhh, not a sound, Harry. Do you wish for someone else to die as well?"

Harry restrained his sobs and shook his head to say no. He was forced to his feet,

"You must be famished, Harry. Would you like to have some Ice-cream?"

Harry didn't reply. He couldn't reply. The smirk on Voldemort's face was one of pure evil and he knew had no choice but to play along or Voldemort would kill another innocent person.

I hope all of you enjoyed this chapter. Let me know what you thought. Looking forward to your reviews. Love you all!

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