A/N: Hello, people!
I don't own Harry Potter.
I have no beta.
ENJOY!
CHECK ME OUT ON TUMBLR. HELLY-WATERMELONSMELLINFELLON. I FOLLOW BACK.
-Most of this chapter happens in the past. Let's just say, Cursed Child made a lot of headcanons possible. Such as Time Turners that work for far longer than the normal ones. So I am gladly using that idea to my advantage. ^-^
-This was supposed to be updated 2 days ago, but FF would not load fully! I could not get anything in the doc to save! I bitched about it on Tumblr.
"What happened?"
Harry winced, wishing that of all the things the man asked first, that wasn't it. But he had a right to know the happenings going on in his home. He deserved to know just what had occurred in the month that he'd fallen ill. It wasn't like Harry could keep it from him anyway. He was in the man's house, sitting on his bed with his familiar. Any attempt at secrecy had pretty much been killed already.
"You, being the twat that you are, decided that there was no possible way that you could be felled by such a disease. Therefore, you never protected yourself, and you ended up falling ill about a month ago."
Voldemort's serpentine face creased in a few places. His skin shone in the light of the Lumos currently keeping the room bright for Harry.
Harry bit his tongue to stop himself form licking his lips. He didn't want to send any wrong signals after all. Not now of all times. This was a serious moment.
"I… didn't place any protections because I forgot."
Harry stared for a moment, completely baffled. There was just no way, right? This was Voldemort. This was the Greatest Dark Lord in History. How the hell did he forget to protect himself right after casting all manner of protections for his familiar? And his house? And his lands? And basically anything else in his possession?
"Dark Lords make mistakes as well, you realise? I am not as infallible as I act."
Well how was Harry supposed to know that? The man was fucking immortal, all-powerful, and had perfect self-control. There was literally nothing in the way he acted that would suggest that he could or would fall prey to the problems in the world. They just seemed too plebeian for one such as Voldemort.
And as stated once before, Voldemort was larger than life.
"It's called being Slytherin," Voldemort continued. "We do not let others become aware of our faults, so long as we can help it. I would prefer the world to not know that I am still human. It keeps them guessing and ever watchful of my actions. The unknown keeps them on edge, which is fine by me. I would prefer to have the advantage on my side."
It made sense, but still!
"How many know of my… absence?"
Harry paused to think about it. "Less than ten people I think. Bellatrix found you and came to me while I was with Snape and Dumbledore and mum. Lucius was told. Luna already knew because she Saw it. Dolores Umbridge got to find out because we discovered that she took part in the distribution of the disease, and I wanted to terrify her before letting Bellatrix have at her. Maybe a couple of others."
Voldemort's crimson gaze narrowed. "What has Dumbledore been doing?"
Harry was hoping that he would ask about Umbridge and ignore the whole Dumbledore part, but of course he couldn't. Voldemort never did anything that Harry expected of him. The prat.
"Bellatrix rushed to St. Mungo's in complete hysterics because Vashti went and informed her that something was wrong with you. She went, found you had fallen ill and were delirious, and placed you in stasis. Then she came to tell us, and spun a very good story about how no one can get into your office to get to the important paperwork you keep for yourself, meaning that Magical Britain could hit a serious decline without your specific paperwork being handled.
"Somehow, during the process, I magically agreed to become your Consort, thereby taking up your duties whilst you were unconscious. Dumbledore had helped me a little bit here and there, and Snape and Bellatrix were insightful. Luna was helpful as well. Overall, it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be, because I also had you to help me along the way."
At Voldemort's confused look, Harry reached into his pocket and withdrew the diary. "Tom is a bit snarky, but certainly kind enough to help. I also learned a shite tonne of Runic Circles form him!"
Harry was certain that the purple hue that spread over the other man's skin was his version of blanching. Especially when he placed a hand over where Harry assumed his heart was.
"Please… be careful with that."
"I am! I know what it is you know! Nagini and Tom assured me that it's virtually indestructible to anything by Basilisk venom, and as Alesandese doesn't seem the type to destroy your possessions, I don't think it'll get destroyed any time soon."
It was a mixture that he wasn't prepared for. Normally his emotions were perfectly controlled and he wouldn't let anyone see his fear or worry. He usually couldn't afford such mishaps. However, it seemed that he was destined to be emotionally unreserved in front of Harry James Potter, several times in his life.
To see his Horcrux so casually waved about could have given him a heart attack. And Harry didn't seem in the least bit concerned despite claiming that he knew what it was and what it was capable of. He just called the diary 'Tom' as if they had some kind of camaraderie.
The diary did not like the name Tom any more than Voldemort did, so to allow Harry to even refer to him as such was amazing. But also concerning. If anything, Voldemort was going to have to have a very long talk with the diary some time in the near future. If only to ascertain what his plan was in regards to Harry's life and safety.
Because if Voldemort's eventual intended was in any way in danger because of his own Horcrux, he'd make certain that the diary never saw the light of day again.
Something gold and flashy caught his eyes, and he found himself staring at the Consort Ring on Harry's wrist.
Forgetting the diary for a moment, he had to consider just what that meant.
Harry James Potter had agreed to be his consort some time during his absence. He'd come to Slytherin Manor in order to get into his office where all of his paperwork was. Nagini had told him about the diary to an extent, enough that he'd used the diary for help when doing Voldemort's job. Harry Potter was sitting on his bed, and had even casually referred to his House Elf by her name. As if it was normal.
Meaning he had to have been coming around on a regular basis to be so familiar with his surroundings.
"Did you take the Consort's Chambers?" he found himself asking, wanting to know the extent of Harry's acceptance of their new bond.
The teen frowned. "No. Just because we are magically wedded, does not mean this is my house and that I should go exploring. I stayed in a guest bedroom that Vashti pointed me to when I asked. Most of the time. Sometimes I fell asleep on the sofa in your office."
He was a tad disappointed, but he could understand the boy's meaning.
"You did not explore? Not even once?"
"I didn't have time to," the other wizard scoffed. "There is a pandemic still going on. People were still unwell. I closed my shop for the time being so I could juggle working on international affairs and helping find a cure. There was barely any time to do anything. Though I got pissed a week ago with Hermione, but that doesn't count."
Yes, the pandemic had certainly taken up a lot of his time before he had fallen ill. He could understand Harry's frustrations with the entire situation. He also realized that he was going to have to arrange some kind of award for those who had sacrificed their time and energy to the creation of a cure.
"How many died?" the Dark Lord asked, voice heavy with disappointment. He did not like that this had happened, especially in his territory.
Harry's head lowered in sadness. "Forty-seven Wizards and Thirty-nine Witches, five Vampires, five Thestrals, nine Werewolves, one Goblin, and several Kneazles."
More lives had managed to be lost in a three month epidemic, then Voldemort's entire ten year war on Magical Britain. Honestly, he was awestruck.
"Do you have a lead on the cause of this disease? What exactly did Dolores Umbridge have to do with it?"
The look that came across Harry's face, was something Voldemort never though he would ever see. It was a sort of bloodthirsty darkness, that did not seem to fit the teen's overall character. It also sent a shiver down Voldemort's spine. He wasn't sure if it was because he found it unnerving or arousing, he did not know. Maybe he found it to be both. Either way, this was not the Harry James Potter he had just been speaking to.
"The pink toad had a meeting with one Reginald formerly-know-as DuBois, and signed a Blood Agreement with him. He then handed her several needles where she was instructed to inject them into Dark beings. She then passed those needles off t a common thief by the name of Mundungus Fletcher. She gave him thirteen Galleons to do the job well, and never thought about it again.
"The Weasley twins were the ones to witness the exchange and went to tell Bellatrix with their worries, who brought them here to tell me. I put a warrant out for her arrest and we questioned her calmly at first, but once she made it clear that she would not give over any information, I informed her of the consequences of her actions, and then let Bellatrix have at her."
Voldemort almost winced. And the reason was because Bellatrix got a little overzealous sometimes. She was an excitable creature, and whenever she was given leave to do whatever she wanted, she would honestly do whatever she wanted. The fact that he saw fit to give a prisoner to Bellatrix in order to get them to crack, told him about the stress that the young man had been under.
Harry had stopped playing the kind and helpful questioner. He'd done a one-eighty easily and dropped all pretenses.
The fact that he hadn't exactly bothered to follow the law when it came to dictating a possibly treasonous person, had told him enough. But no, he could finally understand exactly what the other had to go through. And it must have been harrowing, especially since he was only a teenager, and he wasn't even the Lord of his own families yet.
This was the sudden real life experience that he had not expected to have so soon after graduating.
Of course Life decided to throw random things their way at any time, so there really was no preparation for anything. However, even Voldemort could acknowledge that Harry Potter most likely needed a month to himself. Some solitude once everything was said and done.
"I have not issued an official warrant for Reginald's arrest. I don't exactly want him to know that he is in trouble and that we're on to him. I was hoping that we could find him first, so that we don't have to go chasing him everywhere. I just want this shite to be over with."
Voldemort did as well.
With a sigh, Voldemort reached out and took the younger man's hand. The difference was almost startling. Voldemort's pale skin was cold and shined slightly, his purple veins easily visible beneath his flesh.
On the other hand, Harry's skin was hot, skin peachy in colour and his veins green and blue.
The other gave a small smile. One that was full of exhaustion and pure desire for sleep. Harry had most likely slept as little as possible. He was looking thinner as well. He could use a good meal or ten.
"Vashti," Voldemort called out.
"Master Voldy is being alive and well!" the Elf gushed as she Apparated in.
"Will you fetch Harry some finger sandwiches? He seems to need some nourishment."
"Please bring Voldemort something as well. He needs solid food more than I," Harry said quickly, before the Elf could carry out her task.
Harry didn't seem willing to draw attention to the fact that their fingers were linked. Not that Voldemort wanted to either. The moment was nice as it was and he didn't want to make it awkward or possibly ruin it. Not now when Harry literally accepted the physical contact between them.
In fact, the other didn't seem too worried, especially since he placed a hand against Voldemort's browless forehead in order to test his temperature.
"You're a little too warm for what your natural body temperature should be. But we'll have you looking fit in no time."
Voldemort did not miss the way Harry's eyes trailed down his bared torso. Nor did he miss the look Nagini sent in the boy's direction.
He'd have to have a talk with her later on.
Pop!
"Vashti had Master Voldy and Master Harry's requests!"
§I would like something to eat as well!§ said Nagini, her tongue flicking out in frustration.
Harry relayed her message, and Vashti went off to fetch a mouse for the time being.
Voldemort took up the small object, his long and inhuman fingers curling around it completely. With careful movements, he twisted the knob on the top, four times, and watched the hourglass spin repeatedly.
The area around him passed in a blur of colours, going from dark to light repeatedly.
His Time Turner was a very special creation he'd managed to make years prior. It was a variation of the ones the Ministry held tight control over. Only instead of going back hours, it could go back a few weeks. Voldemort had used it during his takeover of Magical Britain, employing repeated use in order to earn a more sound victory with as little loss as possible.
With his creation in hand, Voldemort was going back to when he had just fallen ill.
There were things that needed to be done. Things that he was certain no one would chastise him for should they ever find out.
First, was to speak with the diary. Then he would have to find Reginald No-Name and teach him a very important lesson.
Had he known the fool was the reason behind this issue, he would have simply used the spell earlier. But at least he knew now.
When Voldemort had told Harry that he'd placed special measures on the entry forms for the tournament, he hadn't been joking. There was a specific type of tracking charm that linked the person to the parchment, and Voldemort only had to focus on the parchment in order to find out exactly where the person was, and basically take them by surprise. If he wanted.
And he wanted.
The blurs came to a sudden halt, and Voldemort tucked the Time Turner into his robes. The clearing he'd used was empty, but that was fine.
Technically, people weren't supposed to allow themselves to be seen when using a Time Turner, and while he didn't actually give a bleeding damn what people thought, he didn't want to cause any drama for himself. Especially if Harry Potter was currently being told that he was ill and could not continue to lead the combined nations of Magical Britain.
No, Voldemort wouldn't jeopardise that.
With a huff, he Disapparated, moving straight through his own wards without so much as a blink. The magic allowed him entrance, welcoming him with a small caress.
He was silent. None of the Elves knew he was there. He shared a core with himself, so they would only sense Voldemort, but not more than one. Especially since they all had some idea of what the diary and ring were and could not feel the individual souls or magic within them. Everything was just Voldemort to them.
Flipping through his desk, he pulled the diary out and penned a quick note.
You are about to meet my consort.
His name is Harry James Potter, as we've discussed many times prior.
Currently, the pandemic has reached alarming proportions.
The current me is in bed, having fallen to the illness.
Harry has just accepted the position of Consort Slytherin, if what I was told is correct.
I am Voldemort, from about thirty-two days in the future.
You will aid Harry in anything he asks of you.
He is not equipped with leading a nation, and will need some form of help.
Bellatrix wouldn't be useful in this and Severus is busy creating a cure.
Dumbledore CANNOT be too much of an influence over him!
It is up to you to lead him.
Do your best to win him over, but do not lie.
Do not fake sincerity.
Yet do not pander to him either.
He is someone I admire and respect.
I will not have him offended because of you.
You are not to take his magic nor his soul.
Or you might return to your box.
It took a moment, but the diary's snark was quick to shine through in only one sentence.
Well this should be interesting if you're so heated over it.
I mean it, Tom.
He did that just to annoy the boy.
Fine. Bugger off, old man.
With gritted teeth and eyes full of annoyance, Voldemort shut the book and left it on the desk, off to the side. He shut the drawers and made sure everything was set with the passwords.
Tom would do as he was told. Simple. It was for both of their benefit after all. Tom got to have a partner to discuss things with, and Magical Britain wouldn't fall. Voldemort saw it as a win-win situation.
His magic rippled a bit, letting him know that an unknown person had entered the wards. Yet this unknown person had some of his magic on them.
Harry.
A moment later, the door to the office gave a low hiss, and Voldemort Disapparated, not even a whisper to let anyone know that he'd been there.
It wasn't supposed to happen. Or rather, Voldemort told himself that over and over. But how was he supposed to know that Albus too-many-bloody-names Dumbledore, would be in the same place, and recognise him from afar? Especially since he was actually in his preferred disguise.
And unassuming man in plain clothing. Boring. Normal. Nothing interesting to see.
And just when he'd been about to turn, Dumbledore had to call upon him.
"Tom, my boy, it's a pleasure to see you!"
Tom was such a bland name. And in this instance, it was probably the only time Voldemort was grateful that it was his birth name. Tom's were generally boring. No one cared about Toms.
"Dumbledore," he said stiffly, mouth set in a tight line.
The older wizard came over to his table and seated himself without so much as a by your leave. Voldemort would have said something, but decided against it. The drama of being rude to Albus Dumbledore of all people wasn't something he needed at the moment. At least not in public.
Luck seemed to shine on him, because Dumbledore set up a privacy ward immediately, and spoke very plainly.
"I was under the impression that you were currently suffering from a magical disease."
Voldemort glared and reached into his robes to flash the Time Turner. He despised the look of understanding in the old wizard's eyes. That bloody twinkle was back!
"Any reason for the desire to gallivant through time, Tom?"
Ugh!
"I have someone to find, and a few things to consider. Simple."
"Things… such as your near death experience?"
He could not withhold the flinch. It came, it went, it gave him away and he hated it.
"I see… you have yet to come to grips with it."
"It's obvious what happened you old coot! I nearly died. Death. Still heart and cold body. I understand just fine."
Dumbledore's hoary head shook back and forth, the twinkle dimming thankfully. "You understand the theory. Your mind has processed the facts. You have yet to process the fact that your greatest fear was at your doorstep and you could do nothing about it. That is an emotional sort of understanding, not mental."
Voldemort's enchanted brown eyes narrowed. "Are you implying that I am... traumatised? Me?"
"Are going to attempt to deny it?"
He glared, because he honestly had no argument and it infuriated him so much. And he firmly did not look in Dumbledore's direction because he did not want to see the other man's smug attitude so openly.
"Simply put, Tom, you almost died. And you know who saved you? Harry. Severus. Me. Lily Potter. Goblin Rangrok. And so many others. Your safety was placed in the hands of others, without your knowledge. Harry especially saved you an extra time, preventing you from turning to stone in your own bed."
Voldemort continued to glare, but slowly, his hands began to shake.
He was immortal. He had Horcruxes to keep him 'alive' in a sense. He wouldn't fully perish, his body would simply be dead. The spirit would linger though.
Still, he didn't want to experience death simply because he had protections set in place. He wasn't going around risking his life like a Gryffindor, just because he knew he couldn't be truly destroyed.
Still, he was a human. He unfortunately felt emotions and pain, and all those annoying things attributed to the human race.
He didn't know death personally. No one did. Death was the unknown. A world, a being, a concept that no one truly living had any idea of. And the ghosts Voldemort had questioned were of no help in his quest to learn all he could.
He hated not knowing. He hated the thought of possibly dying in pain. Of being alone. Of becoming unknown just like Death.
"Death comes to all, Tom. Whether you've managed to thwart it with Dark Magic for a certain time, you cannot avoid your body dying at some point."
He could avoid it if he wanted. For as long as he bloody wanted!
"And might I remind you that not everyone is 'immortal'. Harry for instance. He will die within the next century and a half, and you will be alone again. Your children will eventually pass on. That's the way the world works."
He stomach sank when Dumbledore mentioned Harry. Harry's fragile mortality that held him back. That prevented him from truly living. Harry's life was in danger more than Voldemort's was, and that was a problem.
Harry wouldn't consent to making a Horcrux though, would he? Harry was okay with the use of Dark Magic in moderation, though Voldemort wasn't so certain that he'd welcome Soul Magick. He would probably heavily deny the idea, among other things.
His consort was mortal.
No one had ever come along that affected Voldemort like Harry did. He did not want to lose the boy's snark, or the amused twist of his lips when he called Voldemort a twat. He didn't like thinking about a day where the only person to directly challenge him - without the intention of being an arsehole - would be gone.
"I see you understand," said Dumbledore, sounding pleased as he folded his hands together. "So what do you plan to do about it?"
What could he do about it?
Voldemort was powerful and intelligent, but he wasn't omniscient, no matter how well he played at being such.
Dumbledore was eyeing him firmly. "I'm sure you are aware of your distant relation to Harry, through a common bloodline. I'm also certain that I do not need to explain why that line was so famous."
At Voldemort's blank look, the man continued.
"I did extensive research on both the Potter Family's Invisibility Cloak, and the Wand of Elder that I won from Gellert. You'd be interested to know that they are indestructible to everything, and that they grant very… peculiar abilities to the owner. I also believe that the stone, alongside the wand, is in your possession."
"Are you talking about the Deathly Hallows?" asked Voldemort, incredulous. It was a children's story. It couldn't possibly be real.
"Mmm. Your grandfather's ring would make a nice engagement ring, wouldn't it? That stone is quite fetching. Unique even."
And with that. Dumbledore stood, waved away the ward that kept their conversation private, and walked away.
Voldemort was left to consider many things he hadn't thought of before. He also had to evaluate the deviousness of Albus too-many-bloody-names Dumbledore.
The wards around Reginald's property weren't like Voldemort had expected. Basically, the Runes Master had employed impressive protections around his home. And for most, they would be a problem. But Voldemort was the Greatest Dark Lord in History. He had Masteries in many subject, including Runes.
Plus with his abundant power and control, he very easily broke through the wards. Those which were crisscrossed and those that overlapped.
It was an interesting piece of work that included some Blood Magick, some Wiccan Magic, and a well placed Fidelius Charm.
Voldemort held nothing back, unleashing his magic and full on attacking the intricate web of protections that had been made to keep Reginald safe from danger. However, Voldemort wasn't just dangerous, he was calm. And when facing someone whose anger was in perfect control, things would get a lot worse that what they originally appeared to be.
Voldemort batted away a preexisting curse that was supposed to lob his head off. He also shielded himself easily against the external traps set on the small manor.
His magic felt around the web, breaking the weakest links first. The best way to win, was not to destroy the first layer, and then the second layer, and so on and so forth, it was to destroy the weakest parts you could find first. Instead of expending excess energy on trying to break the hardest protections immediately, Voldemort preferred to dismantle the structure in his own way.
Each layer had a few specific places that were easy to tear through, allowing Voldemort's overwhelming magic to slip through and continue onward.
Once he reached the main ward stone of the estate, Voldemort's magic surrounded the object and crushed it instantly.
The rest of the wards fell, and the air rippled at the fluctuation of power.
Voldemort immediately set up several anti-Apparition and anti-Portkey wards.
"Accio Reginald."
The window on the top floor, shattered as No-Name's body was pulled through it.
Voldemort deposited him on the ground none too gently, and smirked as the coward sputtered.
"So you thought you could get revenge for yourself, did you? We're going to have some fun before I take you in,"
The man sputtered and called for his Elves, but none came.
Voldemort's sharp grin could probably summon devils if he wanted it to.
"Where did Voldemort go?" Harry demanded, looking around and feeling very unhappy at the moment. The man was supposed to be resting. Sleeping. Gaining back his strength after surviving a near death experience.
Instead, the moment he turned his back, the other decided that he was going to go gallivanting around without so much as a care for his own health.
Vashti wrung her ears a little. "Master Voldy took some potions and then left. He did not say where he bes going, but that he would 'be back soon'."
The wards rippled for a moment, and Harry darted off for the front door in order to confront the other man and to take him to task for ignoring his own health.
When Voldemort walked into however, Harry's words died on his lips. Levitating right behind the man, was one Reginald No-Name, looking as if he'd just lived through WWII and was unfortunate enough to tell the tale.
"You found him that easily?" asked Harry incredulous beyond measure.
Voldemort merely flashed a smirk. "Timing is everything, dear Harry. And I am not a wizard who is confined by time."
And with that, the man turned and motioned for Harry to follow. "I'm certain there are a few people who will want to witness this one's upcoming trial."
Harry summoned his scarf from his room, and wrapped the fabric around his neck. It was December, and the snow had fallen in heaps. No one could blame him. "I'm ready."
"Magical Britain, I am proud to announce that on this day, the epidemic is finally over!"
The gathered citizens cheered uproariously, some happiness finally coming to their faces. The twentieth of December was to be marked down as an important day in Magical Britain's history. They day the disease was finally eradicated.
"We have apprehended all those responsible for the hardships you all have had to endure. I present to you, Reginald No-Name, Dolores Umbridge, and Mundungus Fletcher."
The three were brought out, surrounded by heavy guard and magical barriers. The public booed and hurled insults. They demanded punishment.
"I have overruled the decision of killing them outright, because death would honestly be a reprieve for them, and I feel they must suffer for their actions, do you all not agree?"
Voldemort's charm was heavily at work, his glamoured smile blinding in the light of the room. The crowd echoed their agreement with his decision, making him even more pleased.
"We will be holding drawing, if you will. Each of you will choose the coloured ball with the punishment you most agree with. You will then place it in the jar before you. One of them will be chosen at random, by myself. The chances of your preferred punishment being used, depends on how many more of your coloured ball is available."
The citizens went berserk and rushed forward when given permission.
And Voldemort stood there, smiling calmly through it all. Because everything was right with the world finally, and he didn't have much to worry about from now on.
Once the decision was made, he would then be conferring the First Class, Order of Merlins.
But one thing at a time of course.
Harry's pleased grin stood out most in the crowd, reminding Voldemort that not all of his worries were handled.
He had research to do.
A/N: Another is done!
-Anyway, this chapter is for my mom, flamingpen18. Her birthday was the 18th, but I couldn't finish the chapter in time for her. And when I had finished it, FF would not cooperate! But she loves this fic, and I hope she'll like the chapter!
How was it? Let me know!
Check out my other Tomarry/Harrymort fics!
See ya! :D
CHECK ME OUT ON TUMBLR. HELLY-WATERMELONSMELLINFELLON. I FOLLOW BACK.
