Chapter four : Please forgive me
"Harry, wait!" Voldemort shouted desperately and ran after Harry who had stormed out of his chambers.
"Why did you kill him? I thought you didn't kill anyone anymore! I thought that you really were changing because of the horcruxes... I thought we were... " Harry paused. That they were friends? Was he really thinking because they had for a few days that he was now friends with Voldemort? He felt disgusted with himself. Of course not, Voldemort was evil and Harry had just been trying to get him to trust him even a little in order to escape.
Voldemort did not say anything. What could he say? It was true, he had killed the Malfoy boy. And he didn't regret it at all so why would he lie to Harry that he was sorry when he really wasn't?
He had killed Draco because Malfoy and hsd failed to kill Dumbledore. The sexual dream Harry had had about him had been an added bonus. He didn't want some gay drama between his horcrux and a somewhat worthless Death Eater. It just had annoyed him if Harry lusted after that spoiled prat. He had of course had in mind that he would want to keep killing him from Harry's radar and blame Malfoy's death on Snape or someone else Harry hated. But when Harry had looked him in the eyes so sincerely and said that he wanted to get to know Voldemort better he had totally forgotten about the books on his bed.Nobody had ever wanted to know more about him, not really.
Now he had lost the thing closest to a friend he had ever had if not counting snakes. Was it normal to be jealous because of a friend?
But should he be sad if Harry didn't want to be his so called friend anymore? After all, he had only done what came naturally to him. Killing for him was normal. Wasn't friendship about accepting the other without caring about his faults? Not that Voldemort had given everything he had to the "friendship", he hadn't told Harry anything remotely important or personal.
He just didn't dare, nobody could like the real Voldemort. He had mostly showed Harry his false charming self, which he had used some many times before to get the things he needed in life. He had lied to many people and he had not shown his true emotions to anyone.
Voldemort decided that he wasn't going to share the reasons why he had killed Draco with Harry so he just stated coldly.
"You'll sleep in the dungeons from now on"
-
"Happy birthday, Harry" Harry said to himself and sat on the floor in the cold dungeon. He had been there for days and had not seen a glimpse of Voldemort since he had put him there.
He was still devastated about Voldemort killing Draco, who hadn't been his friend but he didn't wish for him to die either. He had genuinely thought that Voldemort wouldn't kill his classmates anymore.
So he simply didn't understand why he had killed Draco. From what he understood Draco had been laying low and couldn't have done anything wrong and couldn't have annoyed him in any way.
One mad thought crossed his mind once. What if Voldemort had killed Draco because he had been jealous? He had seemed pretty mad when he had caught Harry having a dream about Draco.
But why would he be jealous of Harry? Voldemort had shown no interest in Harry and didn't ever talk about anything too personal which made Harry feel bad. He didn't want to share his life with Harry. The chances of him ever getting out of there seemed slim.
Being jealous would definitely require some romantic interest and a rather powerful one to get Voldemort to go and kill Draco because of one lousy dream. This couldn't be the reason, there had to be something else that Harry just didn't know.
If he had just bothered to explain it to Harry, then he could have started to think about whether he was able to put the killing aside or not. Why wasn't he willing to give any kind of a reason? He just rather put him into a dungeon, for a decade maybe. Harry didn't even know if he would ever see Voldemort again.
Maybe there was a reasonable explanation for his actions. And even if they weren't he still wished for the man to come down there even if all they'd do was yell at each other. Even if he'd put a cruaciatus on Harry it would win this. Everything was better than this silence.
And today of all days. It was Harry's 17th birthday. He knew that because of the prophecy Voldemort would remember it.
He couldn't do anything but wait. He looked at the door all the time and tried to listen if he could hear footsteps. He was disappointed when he heard a sound and it was just the house-elf bringing him his usual food.
But there was still time. Voldemort could still come and explain or even say something on this important day. Voldemort knew that he wouldn't be getting any other birthday greetings from anyone. But why would he even care? Voldemort hated him and obviously wanted him to suffer.
And Harry had really thought for a really short time that Voldemort cared for him even a little bit since he had managed to listen to all of Harry's worries and fears and didn't fall asleep. How stupid and wrong had he been.
He waited and waited.
But no one came.
-
Voldemort sighed. It was Harry's birthday today. Should he go and congratulate the boy? Since the boy had been kidnapped he wouldn't have anyone congratulating him. Besides the boy was assumed dead now.
What was this? Pity, from the dark lord. No way. He didn't feel sorry for anyone, not even for himself.
And if he did go down there Harry wouldn't probably be even pleased to see him. After all he had killed Draco and Harry was probably still mad about it and asking questions he wanted never give answers to. He barely knew the answers to Harry's questions himself.
But why did he feel bad about abandoning the boy on his birthday?
He knew there was no use going down there to have an argument. Harry didn't want his company and he didn't want to force it.
However there was someone else he could try talking to now. His younger self was still locked up in a room an based on everything house elves had said this could be his moment to let him free, well around the castle anyway.
Voldemort walked up to the big marble door and opened it with a simple spell. Tom was sitting on his bed looking emotionless, his dark hair still perfectly done and his brown eyes looking straight at Voldemort. It seemed he had finally accepted his faith since he didn't try and attack him. Voldemort asked for him to come downstairs with him to come look at their castle and Tom followed him seeming genuinely interested. He figured the best way to get Tom to behave less aggressive would be to call everything theirs since they were the same person after all.
A week went by after Harry's birthday. Voldemort had tried to get Tom to calm down and be able to walk freely around the castle without trying to escape or attack him. He let Tom anywhere except for the dungeons, he didn't let him Tom in there and had sealed the door with magic. It was too soon for his two new "friends" to meet.
Finally Voldemort decided he had to go down there, since all he ever did was think about his fight with Harry. It was just easier this way. The wizarding world should have a 'happy' leader.
Harry was sitting in the corner looking pale and skinnier than before. Voldemort felt awful, what had he done to his horcrux. Harry looked at him curiously.
"Come on, Harry. I'll tell you everything" Voldemort found himself saying and didn't even think about it. Harry followed him, grateful for being able to leave the depressing cold dungeons.
Voldemort led him to his bedroom again. Harry followed nicely, not saying a word. Voldemort pointed him to a couch near a big bookshelf full of books of Dark arts. He had no clue about what he really wanted to tell Harry but he just couldn't bear even one more day of silence. He had locked Tom back up in his room for this so he wouldn't interrupt them.
"I killed him because I was jealous", Voldemort then said and looked away. He decided to leave out the Draco failing killing Dumbledore part, that would just cause more arguments. There was no turning back now. Harry blinked, he looked as if Voldemort had just said that Snape had a pink sparkling donkey.
"Why are you jealous of me? You don't even like me... Is that some kind of sick thing that you murderers do or..."
"No. I don't know. I really don't know. But I didn't like you having that dream about him. You are mine. You are my Harry, just mine. You are my prisoner and my horcrux."
Harry's mouth opened, so surprised he was to hear this. Thinking that he owned Harry wasn't the thing Harry would have liked to hear but it was good enough for now. He couldn't expect miracles from a heartless murderer. And it was not like he could choose to have another friend. Who would he be friends with? Bob, the crazy old ghost?
"That doesn't make it okay!" Harry shouted.
"I know it doesn't. But I can't change who I am, Harry. I thought you knew who I was and wanted to even be my...friend" Voldemort said quietly.
"I did. I do. I did.. We had a lot of fun. But what you did just isn't acceptable.. But then again... You are the dark lord and I can't very well stop you from killing... At least you didn't kill anyone I truly cared about...this time" Harry stated.
"I'd tell you I'm sorry but I'm not"
"Okay, worst apology ever!"
"Thanks" Voldemort smirked and got Harry to smile too. Harry threw a Nagini's stuffed snake toy at him.
"You're unbelievable you know that?"
The next day they went to the lake together. The lake was right next to the castle and Harry had seen it many times from the window and had wanted to go for a swim.
Harry had convinced Voldemort to come with him after a lot of persuading. Voldemort didn't like being wet as he had explained it.
It was a hot day and the sun was shining brightly. Harry looked at Voldemort who was wearing muggle clothes for once.
"Come on. I don't want to be the only one swimming, you'll just get bored" Harry took all of his clothes off and was completely naked in front of Voldemort. He didn't feel embarrassed. He had been working out a lot.
Voldemort looked curiously at Harry's body, trying to look like he wasn't looking though he was. The boy had a gorgeous body. Slim, but muscled. Nice abs, and Voldemort looked lower and whistled in approvement without a sound. It was really very big, not as big as his own, but still. He looked away quickly and flushed a little. What the hell was he looking at again?
"Will you just join me, you must be boiling wearing all those clothes" Harry continued.
Voldemort shook his head.
"I told you, Harry. I really don't like water, besides I don't own swimming shorts so..."
But Harry wasn't listening to him anymore. He was staring at the castle. He had seen a boy inside the castle by a large window.
The boy was too far away to recognize if it was someone Harry knew but he doubted it. The boy had dark hair and to Harry's surprise he was naked in what seemed to be like a large bedroom Harry had never visited before, he thankfully wasn't looking at Harry so Harry could let his eyes wonder on his body. He had an amazing tight six pack, toned muscles and he was the most well endowed man Harry had ever seen.
Harry couldn't look away. Even from a far it was obvious this boy was exceptionally handsome, tall and before he even realized it Harry was having an erection.
Voldemort noticed what had been happening, Harry had been eyeing his younger self and gotten aroused. Voldemort did the only thing he could think of. He took out his wand, pointed it at Harry and yelled:
"Stupify!"
Harry fell on the ground unconscious.