Chapter 30

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Harry continued to pace the room, ignoring the Muggle man he had immobilized and hidden behind the sofa. The itinerary and all the careful details were rolling through his mind as he picked them apart for possible weaknesses.

Kidnapping a Muggle tramp for this had not been ideal, but not everyone was a bloody divine being that could chant a few phrases, remove a chunk of their skin, and create a body to fool someone.

Some people had to kidnap a Muggle and then ensure that, when they were no longer needed, they would be returned to where they'd been taken from and thoroughly Obliviated.

But that part was the least of Harry's problems.

This plan had to work. He only had one chance.

Percy was already making trouble for him and he couldn't stand another moment knowing Voldemort was being abused, thinking that Harry had abandoned him.

He felt bad that he would be forcing Voldemort to make a Vow on his magic, but he couldn't ethically take any more chances. Letting the man continue to be tortured was not an option yet Harry couldn't free him to have the man just go and kill more people.

Fool me once, and all that.

Harry looked at his watch. 10:49am.

Okay. Now he could take the Polyjuice.

He uncorked the bottle and took a swig. His body stretched and morphed, and it was uncomfortable but not painful. When it was complete, he was taller and wider with wrinkled hands and better eyesight. He took off his glasses and then moved quickly to the Muggle on the floor.

He forced the Polyjuice down his throat and watched, mesmerized, as the body elongated and deflated, hair disappearing and skin becoming inhumanly white.

Lord Voldemort was laying on the floor, still immobilized, and Harry wanted so badly to touch him.

With no reason to deny himself, he stooped down and ran his finger lightly over the sharp cheekbone. He paused. Voldemort would surely be delivered to him naked therefore he must strip the Muggle before the switch could occur.

Did he trust himself to be left in a room alone— even for five minutes— with a naked Voldemort who would not remember this encounter?

But the familiar body wasn't his so that would calm his ardour. The cunning, ruthless mind that he loved was not here.

He vanished the Muggle's clothes and stared down at the body on the floor.

It was perfect.

Pale skin, hairless, long legs, lean muscles, sharp bones… Those fingers that made any movement seem elegant, that unique profile that shot him through with adrenaline whenever he saw it. This body always got a reaction out of him; as a child it had been fear, but now it was so much more.

A knock at the door startled him and Harry looked at his watch. 10:58.

They were early.

He quickly pulled the shrunken collar out of his robes, returned it to its normal size, then snapped it around the man's neck. It wasn't imbued with the dreadful spells Voldemort's real one had, but Harry had to hope that the Minister wouldn't test it until he got the prisoner back to his cage.

He cast a strong Notice-Me-Not Charm and an Invisibility Charm on the Muggle. Then he walked to the door, looking down at himself and making sure his transfigured clothing fit him well.

His heart was hammering, his fingers twitching. In a moment, he would open that door and see Voldemort. He felt giddy and reckless and desperate to change the plans, but he controlled himself. This was for the best.

He pulled open the door and Percy was standing there, but Harry's eyes flicked behind the Minister and fell on that familiar, wondrous form whose exhausted eyes were trained on the floor and whose hands were shackled behind his back.

Thankfully, though, his face seemed to have been healed. Even the horrid HALF-BLOOD wound on his chest had been removed.

"Mr Fudge, it's an honour," Percy said, with a small bow.

Harry restrained an eye-roll at how, even as the Minister himself, Percy still got weak-kneed for those in power.

Harry nodded and gestured mutely behind himself and the procession entered the room. Harry's eyes followed Voldemort who did not react in any way to what he was being led into, but kept his eyes down and his gait measured.

When the door closed, Harry faced Percy.

"Alright, Cornelius— may I call you that?" Percy asked, and Harry nodded again. "Excellent, thank you."

Percy turned to face Voldemort and then placed his hand on one of those broad, thin shoulders. Harry bristled at the impudent contact. Voldemort's muscles tensed as he resisted for a moment before he closed his eyes and slowly folded his legs.

And suddenly, Lord Voldemort was kneeling on the floor while Harry, Percy, and two nobodies stood over him.

Harry closed his mouth. Holy fucking shit.

"I have to go through the rules regarding his use before I leave him in your hands, though these two Aurors, Mr Pike and Ms Belyar, will remain outside the door should you need them."

Harry's gaze was still caught on that beautiful, bowed head, marvelling at how unnatural it was to see Lord Voldemort assuming such a submissive and passive position when the man was the epitome of power and dominance.

The silence alerted him that he should pay attention to the conversation. He nodded to both Aurors, his heart beating out of control.

"Now," Percy continued, and Harry forced himself to give him his attention, "you have two hours to spend however you'd like, but there are restrictions to protect you and to ensure that he does not perish before he has paid his due."

Merlin, how many times had Voldemort endured this? Being given to people who hated him and would torture and humiliate him without even the pretence of legality or witnesses? What had been done to him in secret that was so horrid that these people would pay for it rather than do it in public?

"I'll take these off before I forget," Percy said, and then tapped his wand on the restraints at Voldemort's back.

Once released, the Dark Lord slowly brought his hands forward and rested them delicately on his thighs.

"Obviously, the first rule is that you must not attempt to remove the collar or remove the prisoner from this room. We ask you not to answer any questions he may pose to you, though it has been awhile since he has attempted such presumptuousness."

He paused and Harry realized he wanted a response, so he nodded. Percy nodded as well, then continued.

"You may use any charm, spell, curse, hex, or potion on him so long as it does not kill him. This includes two of the Unforgivables, the Cruciatus and the Imperius, which in his case are permitted."

Harry looked over at Voldemort, who remained kneeling, still and silent, not reacting to this speech where he was being discussed like chattel, not even deserving of basic consideration.

"His collar has been charmed in many ways, the ones of interest to you will be that he will obey any orders with the keyword Tom, I command followed by what you wish. Say those three words and he will obey anything."

Harry nodded, feeling sick.

"You should know, he cannot hurt or attack you in any way. If he tries, he gets incapacitated for one minute and hit with immense pain. If you want to have him perform services for you, but you want him to struggle a bit, I would suggest the spell Mordere, which is connected to his collar and will send a shock of acute pain into his brain. This is highly satisfying to watch as he will naturally resist the degrading work and then the pain will compel him to obey. The indecision has been reported to be wonderful."

Percy shot him a conspiratorial smile and Harry struggled to return it.

"You may use him sexually in any capacity you can think of and this includes intercourse and oral sex. The collar's keyword command works especially well with this, unless you want him to fight, in which case I have been told that that is fun as well."

Merlin.

His eyes shifted in horror to Voldemort who remained unmoving, face blank and eyes lowered. Resigned. Harry pressed his teeth into his tongue until he tasted blood.

"What am I forgetting?" Percy asked, squishing his lips to one side. "Do you have any questions?"

Harry swallowed and willed his voice to work.

"No. It all seems… in order."

Percy smiled.

"Right, I'll let you get on with it, then."

Harry watched the three people walk to the door, feeling somehow numb and also full of restless energy.

"Have fun!" Percy called over his shoulder, and Harry fought the impulse to curse him.

The door shut a few moments later and Harry almost collapsed to his knees. But then he remembered how tight this schedule was.

He looked down at the man kneeling nearby. Voldemort still had not moved, but his breathing had begun to accelerate. His hands, which had been spread out on his naked thighs while Percy had delivered the rundown, were now curled into fists.

Everything in him yearend to gather the man into his arms and embrace him, tell him everything. He would cancel his plans, heal Voldemort himself, and then whisk him away to his home where he would spend the next several weeks apologizing and convincing himself that the man was safe.

But that was impossible.

Ron.

Voldemort just couldn't understand what he'd done wrong. And if he wasn't able to get it, then he would do it again and again and Harry wasn't about to sacrifice all his friends and his morals and everyone else— not even for love.

So he had to act aloof. Cold.

"Tom," Harry said, and he hated calling him that, but he couldn't very well call him Voldemort, not while pretending to be Fudge.

No one called him that these days.

Voldemort flinched when Harry spoke. Harry squeezed his finger until it hurt to stop himself from falling into Voldemort's lap and comforting him. Harry forced his voice to be even. Steady. Detached.

"I have a proposal for you," Harry said, and he saw a small crease appear between those hairless eyebrows.

"You can look at me," Harry said, "but don't get up."

Voldemort's red eyes lifted slowly and then connected with his own and it was like being stripped bare with fire, everything false burning away and leaving him raw and exposed.

He felt a force try to push into his mind, but Harry was faster.

"Get out!" he shouted, stepping back and looking away. "What are you thinking? Gods, why do you always do that?"

There was silence and when Harry chanced to look back down at Voldemort, he was tilting his head slightly, watching him.

"That's not a great start to this, Tom," Harry said, and didn't regret using that name this time. "Besides, how can you even do that without your magic?"

Voldemort continued to watch him and Harry knew he didn't have time for this.

"Tom, I command you to answer the question."

He beat back the guilt that tried to assault him for using the collar, but it wasn't like Voldemort would ever find out Fudge was Harry.

Voldemort glared at him, but his mouth opened obediently.

"Practice," he bit out, as if the word hurt him.

Even under duress, even knowing the man was speaking without consent and even with Harry knowing he should be ashamed of himself, it was still bliss to hear that voice again.

Harry waited for more and when nothing else was forthcoming, he tried again. May as well hang for an egg as for a dragon…

"Tom, I command you to answer in detail how you can use Legilimency with that magic-inhibiting collar."

Voldemort hissed, looking away. His skin jumped like a whip had struck him and then he spoke.

"I practiced." His words were harsh and cold. "I wanted to learn this skill and so I did. I do not require magic to penetrate another's mind anymore."

He paused and studied Harry for a moment.

"Though, it is uniquely uncommon for others to notice my presence there."

Crap. He was giving the game away. But then, what was he supposed to do? Let the man read his mind and find out all the answers there anyway? He doubted Voldemort would guess it was him. He just had to be more careful.

Voldemort was studying him, but then he seemed forced to add, "Is that sufficient detail or shall I elaborate further?"

Harry shook his head.

"That's fine. Thank you."

Voldemort closed his eyes, seeming to take a moment to collect himself. Harry watched, mesmerized.

When his gaze returned to Harry moments later, it held shrewd contemplation.

Right. Back to it.

He looked at his watch. 11:14.

Bugger. He only had sixteen more minutes to get through this.

"Okay. Here is the situation. I am not Cornelius Fudge but someone who has been well-paid to help you."

Voldemort was frowning at him now. His posture had straightened and his head raised to no longer be tilted down subserviently.

"Your name."

Harry shook his head.

"That doesn't matter. What does matter is that you are not leaving here without taking a Vow on your magic with me. One of your Death Eaters will be admitted into this room to complete the ritual, but only after you agree to take the Vow. Otherwise, you will be Obliviated and will return to your cage."

Voldemort shifted and one of his legs slid forward.

"Stay seated," Harry warned, taking his wand out but not pointing it at him.

Voldemort paused, raising a bare eyebrow.

"I will not take a Vow on my knees."

"What does it matter?" Harry asked, irritated, but Voldemort just held his gaze and slowly uncurled his legs, swinging them around until he was raising himself to standing.

He then looked down at Harry imperiously and fuck, if that damn arrogance wasn't the hottest sodding thing he'd ever witnessed. Even naked and with a bleeding collar, the man exuded authority.

"It matters to me," the Dark Lord stated. "Besides, with this collar and two Aurors just outside, I am unable to attack you."

"I'm not worried about you attacking me," Harry denied, fooling no one.

Voldemort inclined his head.

"Of course not. Now, who are we expecting?"

"Bellatrix," Harry answered, not even certain how that name had tumbled out of his mouth.

Voldemort hummed in acknowledgement.

"And what is this Vow that you require of me?"

Harry took a breath.

"You will swear not to kill another person."

Voldemort stared at him in silence while Harry tried to predict how this would go down. Then the other man made a scoffing noise. Ah. Refusal. What now, genius?

"Are you aware of how a Vow like this works, imbecile?" Voldemort spat. "If I break it, I will lose my magic. How do you expect me to last one day as an escaped criminal if I am unable to defend myself?"

"Defend, yes. But not kill."

"You think my opponents are trying to stun me? Do you believe I ever engage in duels that are not to the death?"

"You'll have to learn how to outmanoeuvre them, then, eh? And here I thought you were cunning."

Voldemort's eyes flashed.

"Impertinent fool. That is not a Vow I can make."

Harry forced himself to shrug unconcernedly.

"That's a shame. So, let's run out the clock and then I'll hand you back over to the Minister."

Voldemort's eyes bored into his.

"Who sent you here?"

"That doesn't matter."

"Was it Potter?"

Harry's heart almost shot out of mouth, but he fought to remain stoic. He shook his head.

"No. Mr Potter is not involved with this. Anyway, your time is ticking."

Harry almost looked at his watch, but then remembered how that was sure to hint at who he was. He cast Tempus instead. 11:26.

"You don't want to keep her waiting," Harry warned.

Voldemort growled.

"You are not allowing me the opportunity to consent. To take this Vow is suicide."

"You won't die, you'll just lose your magic, and—"

"Just my magic!" Voldemort shouted, and suddenly he was huge in the room. "Am I to become a squib if I am forced to kill someone?"

Harry nodded, trying to act unruffled.

"Guess so. Maybe that would be a good lesson for you, hating Muggles as you do. You'd have to—"

Voldemort surged towards Harry and Harry backed up until he was against the wall. The taller man did not touch him, but his warm breath puffed against Harry's skin as he spoke.

"Who sent you."

Harry swallowed.

"Doesn't ma—"

"Who are you."

It was difficult to be this close, to be pressed up against the wall with that precious body so near that he could reach out and touch it. This may be the last time he ever got to…

He dropped his eyes helplessly and took in all that pale, lovely skin, the way his lean muscles strained, the way his waist narrowed under those protruding ribs, how—

"Answer me!"

Harry looked back up, catching that blazing glare.

"I'm not important," Harry replied, and moved out from under Voldemort's oppressive frame.

He walked to the window and looked out. No sign of Bellatrix, yet. She would be arriving by the window so she didn't have to get past the Aurors. This had to be seamless or the entire might of the Ministry would come down upon them.

"Time's up," Harry said, turning to face Voldemort. "What did you decide?"

The other man was standing by the wall, his eyes shifting fast, obviously doing some quick thinking.

"I will accept that Vow if it includes logical conditions."

Harry folded his arms.

"Such as?"

Voldemort glared at him.

"Such as killing in self-defence. Killing to protect another life. Killing to break myself free from a life-threatening situation."

"You can't die," Harry scoffed, before he remembered he wasn't supposed to know that.

When he looked back at Voldemort, the man's eyes were narrowed.

"I assure you, I can," the other man replied, watching Harry's reaction to that.

"Oh yeah," Harry said with a small smile, "I keep forgetting you're mortal now. I still think of you as the almighty Dark Lord, but then Harry Potter took care of that, didn't he?"

Voldemort continued to scrutinize him.

"Indeed."

Harry felt someone trip his wards. He turned to the window, looked down, and saw Bellatrix glaring up at him. He gave a little mocking wave and then faced Voldemort.

"She's here. You're out of time. Should I send her away…?"

"I will take the Vow with those conditions."

Harry considered this.

He didn't want loopholes that the man could manipulate and work around, but neither did he want Voldemort here for a moment longer.

He frowned and made a show of thinking about it while Voldemort stared at him.

"Fine," Harry replied, and Voldemort nodded once, unlacing his hands, which had been together in front of him.

He took a step towards the window, but Harry held up a hand to stop him.

"I'll go get her," Harry said, "but first, allow me to remind you of the situation."

Harry received another furious look for that, but ignored it.

"I retain full control of you right now. There are two Aurors outside that door, ready to come in and subdue you should I indicate I am in distress. Bellatrix has completed an Unbreakable Vow with me that protects me from harm by her during this operation in return for my assistance with getting you free."

Harry felt the wards shift and wanted to scoff. She was trying to take them down, the impatient bitch.

"Your servant is getting antsy," Harry said with a wry smile.

"Perhaps you should let her up."

"I'm not done. Basically, you can't hurt me and she can't hurt me, so don't waste your time trying. My goal here is to see you free, okay? I don't want to have to use your collar against you— oh, and you'll have to get that off on your own, I have no idea how to remove it. Will that be a problem?"

Voldemort twitched his head in the barest of shakes.

"Good," Harry said. "I think that's all, I'll explain more when she gets up here."

Harry waited to see if Voldemort had any questions, but he remained silent so Harry walked to the window and threw up the pane. He looked down, lowered the wards, and motioned for Bellatrix to come up. Then he backed away, giving her space. She may not be able to hurt him, but Harry still hated her.

When Bellatrix's head came up over the sill, her eyes immediately found Voldemort's and they filled with desperate longing and relief.

"My Lord!" she cried, flinging herself onto the ground in her attempt to get to him.

Harry stepped between them raising his wand, not about to watch this revolting scene play out.

"There'll be plenty of opportunity for you two to embrace afterwards," Harry sneered, moving back and closing his eyes for a moment. "I don't want to see that."

Because I'll fucking rip off every one of your fingers that dares to touch what is mine.

He blew out a breath. It fucking hurt that she would get the credit for Voldemort's rescue, get his gratitude and his trust. Harry wanted it all for himself, but he knew it could not be. The man had not even tried to apologize nor acknowledge the unforgivable act he'd done.

Voldemort didn't care. Maybe he wasn't able to care.

He opened his eyes to see that Bellatrix had conjured a robe for Voldemort and sent it towards him subserviently, her eyes downcast, as if embarrassed by his nakedness. Harry watched the other man pluck it from the air and lift it over his head.

He looked away, resentful that she had thought of that and he hadn't. He was so used to seeing the man naked that he hadn't even really thought about it. He hated that she had anticipated his needs so much easier than he had.

"We don't have much time," Harry said, disgruntled and refusing to meet Voldemort's gaze. He turned to Bellatrix. "You came here under a Disillusionment Charm, correct?"

She scoffed and picked herself up off the floor.

"What else would I have done?"

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Knowing you, prolly shouted throughout the streets that you were bringing your Master home."

He almost stuttered the word Master. It was theirs, not Bellatrix's, not the Death Eaters'. Voldemort wanted Harry to call him that and it was different, better, more meaningful between them.

The woman turned slowly to face him, her eyelids heavy and her face grim.

"Do not think you can talk to me that way, you filthy half-blood."

Harry bristled at her giving details about who he was, but there were plenty of half-bloods he could be, so hopefully that didn't ruin everything. And to emphasize that point, he shot a quick look in Voldemort's direction.

"I'm sorry, were you referring to him or me?"

Bellatrix's wand flew into her hand, but before she could speak, Harry cast a non-verbal Disarming Charm on her.

Then he laughed in her face.

"Are you trying to die? Remember that time when you took an Unbreakable Vow that you wouldn't hurt me? When was that again? Oh yes, this morning."

"You insolent—"

"I thought you cared about him," Harry said with disdain, gesturing to Voldemort. "You literally have one job here and that's to help him complete this Vow so he can leave. Are you going to fail him so spectacularly just because you can't keep your fucking mouth shut?"

Bellatrix was vibrating with indignation.

"You dare speak—"

"Just stop," Harry said, drawing out the vowel to an absurd length, drowning out her diatribe until she became too insulted to continue.

He was breathless and a bit light-headed, but it was worth it. He smirked at her.

"I know you want to murder me," he panted. "And the feeling is mutual. But can we just get through this so we never have to see each other again? Can you control yourself, or maybe…"

Harry turned to Voldemort who was watching them both with a frown.

"Maybe you could try giving her a command to shut the fuck up and let me get on with it?"

"My Lord!" Bellatrix said, but Voldemort cut her off.

"Enough."

She fell silent at once, a look of deep resentment on her face when she pulled it away from him and set it on Harry.

"Thanks," Harry said brightly, smiling at Bellatrix in triumph.

He picked me over you! If only Voldemort could have known who Harry was, he wondered if the result would have been different. Probably.

"Now, let's try again. Did you use a Disillusionment Charm, like I asked, to get here, Bellatrix?"

To his surprise, she shot a quick look at Voldemort and then answered.

"Yes," she replied with downcast eyes.

She then looked up at Voldemort, perhaps for praise or reassurance, but he ignored her completely. Harry's mood improved tremendously at the sight.

"Okay," Harry went on, "so I have a Muggle man here already Polyjuiced to look like you," he gestured to Voldemort, meeting his calculating gaze. "Tom—"

"You dare call him that filthy Muggle name—" Bellatrix interrupted, but Harry hit her with a Silencio.

She looked furious, but there wasn't much she could do and this was loads easier.

"How can you stand her?" Harry asked, with a derisive laugh and met Voldemort's eyes, but then sobered when he remembered that there was no camaraderie between them.

Voldemort's place was with his mad lieutenant and Harry's was far away, on the other side. They weren't a team. They were nothing.

He sighed, all humour gone.

"You and I will do the Vow and then you and Bellatrix will leave through the window, Disillusioned once more. I will then return the Muggle man Polyjuiced as you and under the Imperius Curse to the Minister when he arrives. We'll all have an hour to properly hide ourselves and work on our alibis."

Harry felt suddenly exhausted. He no longer cared, he just had to get through this then he could go home and lick his wounds.

"Any questions?" Harry looked up and met Voldemort's crimson eyes, trying to read them, but it was impossible. "Are you ready to take the Vow?"

Voldemort paused and regarded Harry like he was trying to work out a puzzle.

"With the aforementioned amendments, yes," Voldemort said, though he did not look happy about it.

Harry nodded.

"Okay, let's get this over with."

.

.

When all was said and done, Harry couldn't watch the pair leave. They had ten minutes until Percy came back and Voldemort and Bellatrix should have been long gone by now.

But the Dark Lord was lingering.

Harry hadn't been able take the tension any longer so he'd gone into an adjoining room. The bedroom. He'd begun to pace, stuffing his hands into his pockets and biting his lip bloody to stop himself from going back out to see if they'd departed yet, to see if Voldemort was still standing unmoving, still there, refusing to leave like he was bloody waiting for something more to happen and Harry was seconds away from that something more being him throwing himself at the Dark Lord and begging him to take him along.

Or, just take him.

Harry heard muffled voices coming from the adjacent room and looked down at his watch. 12:55.

Fuck. They were cutting it close, too close. If, after all of this, the bloody genius got himself caught and hauled back to that cage because of— whatever the fuck it was that he was fretting over—

"My Lord!" Harry heard Bellatrix shout, and then measured footsteps came up the hall towards him.

Harry turned to see Voldemort standing on the threshold, looking wild but determined.

"Harry."

The man's eyes were blazing and Harry got lost, feeling that incredible connection they shared and everything else fell away.

"Yeah?" Harry asked, breathlessly.

It was only after the Dark Lord's eyes widened a fraction and then narrowed in victory that Harry realized his mistake.

Fuck.

He should backtrack, make excuses, Obliviate the man, anything.

But instead, they merely stared at each other.

Expansive vistas of possibilities opened up between them suddenly. They were here, free, together. They could leave and start fresh somewhere, anywhere—

And when Harry felt the subtle press of a mind against his own, this time he gave it entrance and immediately images were being thrust forward, of Harry standing at Voldemort's side, the two like upright pillars against a sea of masked faces; of Harry duelling Voldemort, but this time it was pedagogical and Harry was learning powerful, ancient magic; images of Harry being encircled by arms that could only belong to the Dark Lord as curses struck them on all sides, but Voldemort absorbed the impact, protecting Harry like a shield; of Harry and Voldemort curled up, Harry's back to Voldemort's chest, the older man whispering in Harry's ear and Harry was smiling, happy, safe, and so in love—

Bellatrix's shout ejected Voldemort from his mind.

They stared at each other once more, both panting, and— was this an offer? Is that what that was?

Bellatrix suddenly appeared at the doorway where Voldemort had previously stood and only now did Harry realize that he and Voldemort were grasping hands, standing a foot apart.

"My Lord," Bellatrix said, sounding scared and confused. "They are knocking, please, we must go!"

Voldemort had not removed his gaze from Harry. He opened his mouth, but before he could speak, Harry dropped the cold, long-fingered hands.

He stepped back.

"Go," he said, echoing that word in the rain.

Voldemort's eyes flashed and he took a step forward, but Harry shook his head and dodged him. He owed his successful escape to that collar, because without it, Voldemort's magic would surely have bound and suffocated him as Harry could feel that it wanted to.

"Go," Harry repeated again, and then broke that agonized, furious stare to walk out of the room, his heart shattering to pieces.

There was another knock, but this time, before Harry could get to the door, it opened and Percy stepped forwards, a concerned look on his face.

"Is everything alright?" Percy said, his gaze sweeping the room. "When you didn't answer, I thought—"

"Sorry," Harry replied, forcing his mouth to smile and his shoulders to give a guilty shrug. "I was just cleaning him up."

Harry glanced behind himself to where the Polyjuiced tramp was seated on the sofa, obedient and quiet.

A small smile crept onto Percy's face.

"Ah."

Percy walked up to the Muggle and scrutinized him.

Harry knew this should be nerve-wracking, but all he could think about was whether Voldemort had stayed and what Harry would do if he had.

"He looks fine," Percy said, turning back to Harry and gesturing for the tramp to follow, who did, thanks to Harry's Imperius. "Any serious injuries we should know about?"

Harry shook his head and Percy nodded.

"Alright, then, we'll be off."

The three people left, the Muggle in tow, and when the door closed, Harry's feet instantly took him into the bedroom, his heart hammering, anticipation and hope clamouring inside his chest.

As he rounded the doorframe, the open window and empty room staggered him and he stopped.

He should be grateful that Voldemort was free. Relieved that the whole mess was over. He should feel any damn thing at all except for the crushing sense of irrational betrayal, abandonment, and despair that left him breathless.

END OF PART II