He pressed the front page to the kitchen table, glaring at the ordinary headline. It was hard to believe how nothing had changed in the outside world. Voldemort warned.

"Do not scrunch it up."

Harry flicked through the pages to the safety of the crossword.

"Intense feeling for something, particularly something lost. 5 letters."

Voldemort hummed,

"Something you do a lot."

"You've got it already?"

"You are reading out the easy ones."

Harry rubbed his temples, willing his brain to work, but no spark lit up in his head,

"I don't know."

"Yearn."

"Oh, right… yeah. I'm tired, and it's the painkiller potions… they make me slow."

"Excuses."

Voldemort chuckled. He came closer, taking a look over Harry's shoulder,

"How about sexual gratification, eight letters."

His voice was low and rumbling, and Harry resisted the urge to shiver.

"You like picking sex related ones, don't you?"

"Well it is always bubbling underneath the surface, isn't it?"

"In your dreams…"

"So do you know it?"

Harry breathed heavily from his nose,

"Pleasure."

"Yes"

Voldemort said, rubbing Harry's shoulders,

"Pleasure."

Harry tried to find the right number on the crossword, but there wasn't one, and there wasn't a clue like the one Voldemort read out.

"It's not even on here."

"No, no, it's not."

Harry didn't protest or fuss about Voldemort rubbing his shoulders. It felt nice, too nice, and his eyes fluttered shut. Voldemort worked his neck, rubbing his muscles, firmly where he had tight knots of tension, and gently at the side of his neck.

"Does this feel good?"

"You know it does…"

He kneaded his thumbs into Harry's neck, rubbing the sore muscles until his head flopped forward, and he felt like a puppet with cut strings.

"You are very tense."

"Well you know, I'm not used to being kidnapped and held in a huge castle…"

"I did not kidnap you…I just happened to save you…"

"You should have let me die."

Harry slapped Voldemort's hand on his shoulder.

Voldemort laughed lightly, then ran his hands up the back of Harry's neck, scoring his nails against Harry's scalp. Harry couldn't help his gasp, or the excited thump of his heart. Voldemort scratched his scalp, and his nerves twitched and tingled until he relaxed, and sighed into the touches. A moan rumbled from deep in his chest, and Voldemort responded, digging his nails in harder until Harry shivered.

Harry felt himself getting hard again, a heavy heat in his crotch. It became unbearable, and he shifted his hips for the friction of his pants. He panted, then opened his eyes. Voldemort stopped rubbing, and Harry glanced up at him. He was deadly still, body frozen, as if poised to strike. The excited gleam was back in his eyes, and a slow smile spread his lips.

His hand shot down, but Harry grabbed his wrist in time, stopping him.

"Why not?"

Voldemort asked,

"It's a release, that's all—"

"No."

"You know I can make you feel good."

Harry licked his lips, inwardly begging his erection to go down, and his heart to calm.

"I know you could, but you shouldn't… you shouldn't feel good."

Voldemort sighed, backing away. He went back to the stove and stirred the pasta sauce he'd been making. He tried some, then bobbed his head,

"Needs a little more salt."

Harry's head spun. It was like the incident in the shower. Voldemort acted as if it hadn't happened, changed the subject completely, carrying on. Harry couldn't, not this time.

"Why?"

Harry asked.

"It'll improve the taste."

"That's not what I meant, and you know it. Why…"

Voldemort sighed,

"Because I want all of you."

"All of me?"

"Yes."

"Haven't you had enough? I've spilled my secrets to you. You've compromised enough of me."

"I thought so, too, but no. I find you fascinating, Harry, and I want more."

"You can't have more."

"You'll enjoy it, and so will I."

"I won't,"

Harry said through his teeth,

"It'd be wrong."

Voldemort shrugged,

"You are just being stubborn."

Harry picked his crutches off the floor, got to his feet, then left the kitchens. He felt Voldemort's gaze on his back, but ignored it, hobbling out into the vast corridor. But before he could leave Voldemort stood in the doorway,

"I can't do this anymore."

"Do what?"

"Be here. I have to get out of here, I have to sort my head out."

Voldemort didn't budge,

"Go where? You cannot apparate…"

"I have to leave. I'll walk across the fields…"

"You are not strong enough."

"Get out of my way!"

"No. You know I cannot let you go."

Harry flared his nostrils,

"Move."

"I think you should calm down. You are going to damage yourself."

"Damage myself?"

Harry laughed,

"I'm already damaged. I'm beyond repair."

"Just let yourself heal and I shall allow you to leave…"

"You think I care about your twisted fantasy. I don't care. I don't care about any of this right now… I have to get away, I have to leave."

"I am not going to let you."

Harry gritted his teeth, dropped one of his crutches, and swung his fist at Voldemort. He didn't react quickly enough, and Harry caught him. He bumped into the doorframe, lost balance, then fell to the floor.