"You were crying out for your mother earlier."

Harry could still taste the saltiness from his tears. He wanted Voldemort to ignore the embarrassing episode, him sobbing himself awake then accepting a cradling hug from Voldemort, but he could see the curiosity in Voldemort's face and knew it was only a matter of time until he'd ask.

"You sounded like a child. Your lip was wobbling, and your face crumpled. You sounded small, fragile."

Harry remembered the earlier dream, not a dream, but a memory, one that made him feel cold, and his gut plummet to his toes. He didn't like thinking about that…Mainly because it made him remember who Voldemort really was…

Voldemort spoke softly,

"Tell me what you're thinking."

"No."

"We are going to be spending a lot of time together."

"I don't want you toying with my mind."

Voldemort leaned back in his chair,

"Tell me or, I'll leave you on your own."

Harry wasn't attached to a beeping machine, but it was obvious Voldemort's words had triggered something. His chest started to rise and fall faster. Voldemort's voice and presence cut through the dreams, dragged Harry to the surface, but when he was gone, one dream led to another, and another, until he was stuck in a merry-go-round of hell. Memories of his parents, hallucinations of Hogwarts, and the magpie, tapping on the window….

He managed to gasp out,

"Don't…Please…"

"Then talk to me."

"Will you use it against me?"

"No. I only want to get to know you, Harry, the real you. The one no one else sees. It's for my personal interest. I won't torment you with it. I won't tell anyone else. I just want to know."

Harry picked the sheet on the bed, pinching the material between his thumb and forefinger, then releasing before pinching it again,

"It was a memory of when you killed my parents"

Voldemort made a thoughtful sound before inquiring,

"How do you feel about that?"

Harry exhaled through his nose,

"I don't know…"

Voldemort lifted his eyebrows,

"That is a lie."

"I'm not lying… I really don't know… You killed them and I should hate you for that… I used to hate you for that, but I don't anymore…"

The truth rolled off Harry's tongue. He couldn't help it. It was the potions; they loosened him up. He looked down at his body… too sluggish… too heavy…

"How can I ever hate you again? I swallow whatever you feed me… I'm helpless and reliant on you to feed my addiction…."

Voldemort tsked,

"You are not going to get addicted. I will not allow it to happen."

"Would it bother you if I did?"

"Yes."

Harry frowned,

"Why?"

"I cannot let you go back into the big bad world addicted to pain relief potions. I will not destroy you like that."

"You have messed up morals."

"I have rules when I play games."

"I'm a game?"

"Yes. Now tell me… Do you like me?"

The question was so evasive, so unexpected, Harry's lips opened and closed a few times before he formed a reply,

"Do I like you?"

"That is not an answer."

"I… I like you…"

The words were sharp on his tongue, and unconvincing in his head. Voldemort narrowed his eyes, seeing through it.

"It's okay not to like me…"

Harry growled through his teeth,

"How can I not like you when you're all I've got at the moment?"

"Tell me the truth…"

Harry swallowed the guilty lump in his throat,

"I like you but it's not normal though, is it? You take care of me…Feed me… Look after me… But you killed my parents… You killed Cedric… You tried to kill me twice… And then you saved me twice…It's so messed up…"

Once Harry started, he couldn't stop. His mouth spoke faster than his brain could stop the words. He blamed the potions he'd been taking. They pulled down his barriers, exposing him….

"There's a very fine line between like and dislike, Harry… Do you think the lines have started to blur?"

Harry scrunched up his nose,

"Yes…"

Voldemort smiled in satisfaction,

"Do you ever wonder what your parents would think of you if they saw you now?"

Harry cried. Tears were burning in his eyes,

"Stop it!"

Voldemort touched his cheek gently,

"Have you ever felt lonely?"

Lonely… The faces of Ron, Hermione, Sirius and everyone else flashed in front of his eyes followed by the feelings he'd experienced in the past few months after Cedric's death… It took a moment for him to reply,

"Yes."

"So was I… I knew I was different. You could be standing in a crowded room, smile on your face, and still feel lonely. I knew I was twisted, wrong, and they weren't like me."

He closed his eyes,

"I don't want to talk about this anymore."

He thought Voldemort would push, keep asking questions. It wasn't like he could escape, and he'd be worn down eventually, but instead Voldemort nodded, then whispered,

"Do you want a change of scenery?"

"What?"

"I could move you into the sunroom. There is a window there… Would you like that?"

Harry nodded,

"Yes… I can't lie in this bed anymore…"