The spells collide but this time there is no golden cage of treads or dead ones returning. Voldemort is using the Elder wand, the one that is not a brother to Harry's own.

He tries his best to keep the wand steady but it is not easy. It takes more or less all his power simply to hang on. He can see that the point of contact between the two spells is moving. Luckily towards Voldemort. He clenches his teeth - determined to hang on.

Suddenly the pressure lets up as the spells hit Voldemort, sending him flying into a wall where he crumbles to the floor. Harry has the awareness enough to grab the Elder wand as it flies towards him before the blackness overtakes him and he can feel himself falling.

If Harry had not encountered a 16 year old Tom Riddle in the Chamber of Secrets, then he would have assumed that the warden of Azkaban had sent him to the wrong cell.

Kingsley however is only confused for a moment until Harry speaks. "Hello, Voldemort." The man throws Harry a confused look, but does not ask the question that is probably burning on Kingsley's tongue.

Voldemort looks like what he probably would have if he had aged naturally. Black, thick hair, sharp brown eyes, lean and tall. If Harry was to guess an age he would think around thirty.

The change in appearance is startling but not surprising. Kingsley had explained that the warden had mentioned that Voldemort had been wearing a glamour which had been broken when they had put the magic inhibitor collar on him.

Harry had asked why not use bracelets or something less humiliating than a collar. The explanation had been that if Voldemort got desperate enough and cut off one of his own hands, then the bracelets would fail to work as two were necessary. Harry would not put it past Voldemort not to do so. He had after all expected Wormtail to cut off his own hand to resurrect his master.

Cutting off his head however, that would be fatal.

Voldemort is sitting on the floor, probably due to the lack of furniture in the cell, but moves to stand up at Harry's greeting. He fails once as his legs don't seem able to carry the weight and he crashes back down. Harry can see him closing his eyes and taking a deep breath before giving it one more try.

On the second try however he remains upright. He moves closer to the door and as he does more light shines over his face. It's clear his year-long stay in Azkaban has not been a pleasant one.

There is dark bruising around his neck, partly hidden by the collar. The same around his wrists. There are dark bruises on his cheek and a cut above his nose. The scabs of healing wounds around the corners of his mouth look painful.

"Harry, how nice of you to come by." The voice is hoarse and sounds. Either from the lack of use or from too much screaming. Harry is willing to put his money on the last option considering the bruises and cuts he can see .

"And the Minister himself, I am honoured." Voldemort leans against the wall next to the door and crosses his arms over his chest. He looks calm, in control, but Harry can see the faint tremors that are racking through his body.

"Whom do I owe for this visit?"

Kingsley steps forward, holding up a scroll. Voldemort's eyes zeros in on it and Harry assumes he knows what it is. There had been no trial. There was no need, but it had been necessary to decide what to do with Voldemort.

"The Wizengamot has decided."

Finally, Harry thinks. It has been one very long process. The members had been bickering back and forth about what to do with the now harmless and imprisoned Dark Lord. The suggestions had rung from torture, to imprisonment for life and back to execution. Each option brings with them their own kind of risks.

Voldemort raises an eyebrow but does not look surprised. "Execution then I imagine?" he drawls in a bored tone, but Harry hears something else underneath it. Fear. He is mortal now and he knows that they can kill him. Neville had taken care of Nagini just in time for the final duel.

"Took them long enough to decide," Voldemort huffs, looking down on the nails on his right hand. He is trying to be indifferent, but Harry knows him too well not to notice how tense he is. "

How, if I might ask, or will it be a surprise?" He doesn't succeed in keeping all of the fear out of his voice either.

For a moment Harry feels guilty. Dying is Voldemort's greatest fear. The prospect was terrifying enough that he made his first horcrux when he was only sixteen. The thirteen years he had spent as a wraith had probably not helped the situation either.

"Yes," he says simply. That was what the Wizengamonth had landed on. Death by Harry's hand because they didn't dare to kill him any other way due to the wording of the prophecy. Preferably using the Elder wand to be sure he banished the Dark Lord for good this time. He takes out the wand and shows it to Voldemort.

"I am the master of the Elder wand. Its alliance was never with Snape. I am also in possession of the resurrection stone and the cloak of invisibility. Together they make me…" He is interrupted by Voldemort before he can finish.

" Master of Death ," the other man breathes. His eyes snap to Harry's, studying him. Then he laughs and it is a genuine laugh, one that Harry has never heard before.

"Of course," the man laughs before he sobers. "I am assuming you will be my executioner then." It's not a question but Harry answers all the same.

"Yes. If you chose that option," he answers.

Voldemort tilts his head. His brown eyes are watching him, calculating, wondering if there might be a way to avoid dying. "Why would I choose to die?" He asks then.

Harry smiles. "Because you might find the alternative worse."

Now Voldemort is curious. He steps to the front of the cell door. "I killed your parents, why would you offer me anything other than death?"

Harry sighs. "Because magical blood is magical blood. It should not be wasted."

"And just what would you like to offer me, Harry Potter?" The voice is soft, expectant. There is a slight condescending tone to it also.

"A teaching position."

Incredibility passes over Voldemort's face before he schools his face into a neutral mask. "I beg your pardon?"

"Harry," Kingsley says in warning, asking him silently to reconsider not to offer the other option they have agreed upon.

It had taken almost 8 months for the Wizengamont to agree to the idea after Harry had told them that he would refuse to kill Voldemort if it came to that. They had of course tried to bully him into killing Voldemort. When that had not worked they had moved on to bribes, manipulations and outright threats, but Harry had refused to be swayed.

Hermione had backed him the whole way, but Ron had not, having lost his brother to the war and all. It had put a strain on their relationship.

"The Defence Against the Dark Arts position you cursed. I am offering you that. I assume you would be able to hold it for more than a year? The students deserve a more permanent solution than a new teacher every year." Something better than what Harry got.

Something like a smile twitches at the corners of Voldemort's mouth. "Yes, I would."

Harry nods. "There are conditions of course."

"Of course," Voldemort parrots. "Tell me Harry, why would you think it would be a good idea to let me around young impressionable children? Why should I take you up on your offer? I do not like children." He comes closer to the cell door once more and this time he leans against it.

Harry answers honestly. "Because you are terrified of death. You split your soul six times to secure a way back into the land of the living."

Voldemort smiles and it would have been a beautiful smile if not for the hard look in his eyes. "That does not explain why you would think it to be a good idea to let me around children? I don't do well with children as you might have noticed."

Harry ignores the barb. He has had a year of warming to his own idea and he has done his research on Voldemort. "You asked for a teaching position at Hogwarts twice. Why?"

Voldemort looks away, but some old emotions at the memory of not being good enough lingers on his face when he looks back. "Strategic move. It would have been easier to gain followers from the students and build my army that way."

It might be the truth, Harry thinks, but he doubts it. Getting turned down twice had probably just fueled Voldemort's want for Dumbledore's approval. The childish want for someone he respected to acknowledge how far he had come, how powerful he had become. Voldemort might not have feared Dumbledore the way everyone thought, but he had respected him.

Instead he nods. "I am not going to let you loose around the children unsupervised. I expect you to make an unbreakable vow."

"No." The word is spoken in a clip tone that leaves no doubt that Voldemort will not aquisent to either.

Harry frowns. He had expected Voldemort to agree to the vow. "Then you chose death," he concludes just to be sure Voldemort understands the consequences of his choice.

Voldemort looks away before looking back. His eyes shine with something, something close to desperation but still he does not accept. "I am not going to risk my magic and life on an unbreakable vow. Not one that I am destined to break no matter how much I try not to."

Damn it, Harry thinks. He does not want to become a murder, even when it comes to his parents killer. No matter how much evil and bad the man has done, they have to be able to find a way for him to be useful. The knowledge he holds that he could pass on. Voldemort is an incredible wizard. He has done great things, terrible but great. There has to be a way.

"Then you have made your choice," Kingsley states, putting the scroll with the final verdict away. "Harry," he continues, placing a hand on his shoulder. "It does not have to happen today." Kingsley knows how much Harry hates the thought of comiting murder.

Harry feels frozen in place. He had been so sure Voldemort would take the chance to teach. To put his knowledge and experience to good use for once. If only to avoid death. He is after all the most decorated student to ever pass through Hogwarts.

He wants Voldemort to have a shot at something other than death.

The Wizengamoth is demanding a date for Voldemort's execution. In the end Harry just picks the 1th of January. He decides to be the one to break the news to Voldemort and this time he goes alone.

Apparently the guards are not being kind to Voldemort.

"It is in people's nature to want revenge," Voldemort states matter-of-factly when Harry stares a bit too long at the damage to his body. It is worse this time around.

Voldemort does not stand up and Harry assumes he can't.

"1th of January," Harry says.

Voldemort nods. "A fitting date I assume. How will you do it?"

Harry swallows. He does not want to think about what he has to do. "I assume Avada Kedavra is the most painless way." He tries to make it a question, but he thinks he failed.

"It is. Unless you plan on putting me humanly to sleep with drugs the way the muggles do with their convicts." Voldemort does not look as resigned to his faith as he tries to make Harry believe. He is restless and agitated. He keeps clenching and unclenching his right hand and there is a lot of tension in his body. Harry can tell he is nervous or perhaps scared? Who wouldn't be when told the date for their death? Especially when death is the person's greatest fear.

"Would you prefer that?" If Harry has to kill him then he wants it to be as human as possible. Even if that means researching how muggle kills their criminals that are sentenced to death.

"I would prefer not to die."

Harry barks out a humourless laugh. "So would I, but I have given you your choices. The ones the Wizengamoth agreed on. They were hell set on the only option being execution. It took me a long time to convince them there might be another way. This is your choice. You do have another other option." The last bit comes out a bit more harshly than he had intended. After that he leaves before Voldemort can reply. He can not stand looking at a person that he will have to murder.

Back home he grabs a bottle of fire whiskey and drinks himself to sleep. The 1th of January is still two weeks into the future.

He sleeps badly the next week. He keeps getting woken up by nightmares he can't remember. Christmas comes and goes without Harry really noticing.

He goes through the motions but his heart is not in it.

He meets with Hermione and Ron and tries to keep active in order not to think about how close to the 1th of January they are getting.

When the owl arrives on the eve of December the 28th he almost collapses in relife. Voldemort is requesting a meeting.

"Fine, I'll teach the brats, but do not expect me to be any good at it." Voldemort spits the words out in anger, his eyes narrowed. He is standing this time.

Harry suppresses a grin. At least this version of Voldemort is sane. Not like the spitting mad and power hungry monster that had come out of the cauldron in Harry's fourth year. Whatever Voldemort has done to change his looks apparently has done some good to his mind as well. He is still dangerous of course, but without his magic he is manageable at least.

"I will have the Ministry's legal department put together the wording for the vow," Harry says, turning to leave to do just so. Just as he is almost turned around, Voldemort speaks.

"No."

"What?" Harry turns back, surprised. "I am not letting you out of here without an unbreakable vow to ensure everyone's safety. Not to mention my own."

Voldemort sneers. "Yes, I know . I was there when you told me and I have perfect recall."

Sane perhaps, but he is still insufferable. Harry decides to wait and see if Voldemort cares to explain.

Voldemort takes a breath and looks away. "Magical conquest."

"Uh?" Harry asked ineloquent.

"I don't expect you to know what it is," Voldemort says in that condescending tone of his that makes Harry want to hit him.

Harry starts to rethink the whole idea - perhaps he is being too cruel on the children by exposing them to this man.

"The Minister and the Wizengamot will know what it is. They will accept it instead of the vow." There is no uncertainty in his voice, but there is something that sounds close to resignation.

Harry is surprised when the Wizengamoth votes it through without any questions or discussions. He still doesn't know what it is as everything was moving so fast that day and Kingsley had not had time to tell him. He, however, had looked very surprised when Harry showed up at the office with Voldemort's request. It had lasted for a couple of seconds before he had been out the door in order to get this secretary to call the Wizengamoth into session.

And now they are back in Azkaban, he and Kingsley. Voldemort has been let out of the cell and he is currently chained to the table by his hands.

"They accepted," Voldemort states. No question in his voice.

Kingsley crosses his arms over his chest. "Of course they did. What I can't grasp however is why you of all people would suggest it. I would like an explanation before we continue."

"And I would like to get out of here, so if we could move this along," Voldemort sneers.

"Not without an explanation."

Harry still has no idea what Magical conquest means.

Voldemort sighs. "Fine. As you wish. I expect the wording of the vow will be so complex that at some point or another I am going to break it either intentionally or unintentionally and I do not want to risk my life on the uncompetent lawyers you have in that department of yours. We could make a magical vow that only would deprive me of my magic if I were to break it, but I assume that would not be good enough for the mumbling old fools in the Wizengamot, as such, here we are. I assume you have informed the boy," he looks at Harry, "considering this requires his participation."

Kingsley seems to be considering Voldemort's words, trying to figure out any hidden meaning or if Voldemort is lying. Harry is sure he is lying, but he doesn't know about what. "I don't trust you," Kingsley says.

"Then you should be pleased with this solution," Voldemort says sarcastically.

"I am," Kingsley deadpans.

Voldemort gives a short nod. "Good. Should we move on?"

"Are any of you going to fill me in on what we are doing?" Harry askes, fighting down the irritation of being left out of the loop until the very last second once more. It was bad enough when Dumbledore was doing it.

Kingsley seems to realise that Harry is also present. He turns towards him and drags a hand over his face before speaking. "Voldemort has asked that we use a different kind of oath. One that is very old, but very powerful. Like we intended with the unbreakable vow he will not be able to harm or use his magic without permission."

Voldemort raises an eyebrow. "Are you expecting me to teach without access to my magic?"

Kingsley gives him a sharp look. "We can discuss that after." Harry gets the feeling that he is in a hurry to get this over with for some reason.

"Like with the unbreakable vow it will be between you and him. Here," he hands him a piece of paper with a paragraph in latin on it. "The only thing you have to do is point your wand at his forehead and speake the verse, that will activate the oath. After that you give him these ehm… restrictions by reading the or- them out loud."

Harry looks at Kingsley. He can feel something is off but he can't tell exactly what. There is a nagging feeling in his stomach too. "That is all?" he asks, suspiciously.

"Really?" Voldemort says with a pointed look at Kingsley. There is some amusement sparkling in the brown eyes that does nothing to calm Harry.

Kingsley ignores Voldemort. "Yes. The oath will not affect you, only him. You might feel a slight connection to his mind afterwards. I'm not sure. These kind of oaths are very rarely used."

"I wonder why," Voldemort deadpans from the sideline.

"Be quiet," Kingsley snaps. "This was your request." He seems tense when he turns back towards Harry. "This will not affect you or your magic in any way. That much is clear."

Harry can tell there is something he is missing here, but Voldemort has agreed, and if the oath will not have any consequences on Harry's part then how bad could it be?

He holds the wand to Voldemort's forehead and starts reading the verse he has been given. Why did they always have to be in bloody latin? He stutters over some of the words, but everytime he does Voldemort is more than happy to supply the correct pronunciation. All though it doesn't look like the oath is pain free on his part because his hands are clenched and there are lines of pain etched across his face. Sweat breaks out on his forehead as Harry reaches the last line.

The last words die out and he is handed another note. This one in english. It looks like a list of rules. Harry reads them one by one. Voldemort is not allowed to use magic without Harry's consent. He is not allowed to leave the building where they are living without Harry's consent. A condition Harry does not understand seeing as they are shipping Voldemort off to Hogwarts. Then there is a couple about no harming or torturing or manipulating.

He finishes the list and looks at Kingsley. "What now?"

Voldemort is breathing hard now. His head bent over his hands. When he raises it Harry's eyes catches sight of the mark that has formed just on the left side of the man's neck. It is partially hidden by the collar. He frowns. It looks like the Potter coat of arms.

Voldemort lifts a hand and it ghosts over the tattoo or whatever it is. A look of something darts across his face too fast for Harry to decipher.

"What in Merlin's name?" he asks, leaning forward to get a better look at the tattoo. It is not big, but not exactly small either.

Kingsley comes up beside him. "It's just a sign that the oath took," he says dimissingly.

Taking out his wand he uses it to unlock the collar as well as the chains that are binding Voldemort to the table. They fall away and Voldemort rubs at them.

"The headmaster will take you through housing arrangements, rules etc."

"I assume Severus is still headmaster?" Voldemort asks as he stands, flexing his shoulders and rubbing at his neck where the collar has been. Where the Potter coat of arms now rests in blue, red and gold. Almost like a mark of ownership Harry thinks for a second before battering the idea away. It is wrong to own another human being.

"Yes," comes the terse reply. "You will be going with him," Kingsley says to Harry.

Harry sputters. That had not been their agreement. He could check in on the man every now and then. "What? That was not what we agreed on!"

At the side Voldemort follows the conversation.

"You don't have a job presently do you?"

"No, I haven't figured out what I want to do yet," Harry says defensively, crossing his arms over his chest. He has enough money that he does not need to work, but he does want to have something to fill the days with.

Beside him Voldemort rolls his eyes. It such a human gesture that Harry is momentarily distracted.

"Good, then congratulations you are now the assistant Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher."

Harry just stares at him. Has he lost his mind? "Why the hell do I have to come with him to Hogwarts?"

"You live alone, Harry. Kreacher can take care of the house, and from what I hear you did a good job with the DA club back in school. And you can take your NEWTs while you are there and get a proper education. Hermione has already done so." Kingsley opens the door to the room they are in, clearly finished with the conversation.

Well, Harry thinks, she didn't have to babysit a Dark Lord while doing so.

"Severus is expecting you at Hogwarts tonight. Apparat to the gate or use the Floo."

Harry tries one more time. "Snape can handle him just fine, why do I have to go?"

Kingsley sighes. "Because he needs supervision so that he doesn't traumatise the students in his classes. Think of it as a punishment for having come up with this ridiculous idea instead of simply killing him." Then he is out the door, leaving Harry alone with his parents' killer and the most dangerous man alive. Or perhaps not at the moment due to the oath he had taken.

"My, my, Harry, you really do have interesting friends," Voldemort says.

"Meaning what?" Harry snaps, fed up about the whole thing, the oat, the whatever Kingsley has kept from him. Of having to go to Hogwarts and work there.

"Just what I said." Voldemort smiles. "I assume I need to check out of this lovely hotel before we leave?"

Harry nodes automatically. Yes, Azkaban has to officially discharge him. Into the Ministry's care for the foreseeable future.

He apparats them to the gate. He needs the walk to the castle in order to calm down.

It feels like he is losing control over something that should have been easy. That yet again information is being withheld from him and he is a pawn in yet another game.

He glances over at Voldemort who is looking around. There is an eagerness to his step and what is stranger is that Harry can feel his excitement. If he concentrates he can feel a presence in his mind that feel much like Voldemort did back when Harry was still carrying a piece of his soul.

They reach a turn on the path and the castle looms above them. It has taken time to repair it, but it is now back to its former glory.

Voldemort stops.

A feeling of longing washes over Harry from the bond. It's strange. Voldemort is truly happy to be back at Hogwarts.

He stops too and turns to look at Voldemort.

"Why did you arrange this? Why not just kill me?" Voldemort moves his eyes from the castle to Harry.

Harry shrugs. "Does it matter?"

"To me? No. I am alive. But I am curious."

And he does look curious. Harry is reminded that even as Tom Riddle, Voldemort has always valued knowledge. The understanding of how other people tick. How to manipulate them.

In the end he answers trutfully. "As I said, all magical blood matters. And your experiences and knowledge will make you the perfect teacher. I don't like being forced into becoming a murderer," he adds in a low voice.

Voldemort laughs. "Oh, poor thing. Harry, you don't have murderous bone in your body."

Harry wants to hit him.

"No." The word is said with such a finality that even Voldemort is thrown.

Snape stares at both of them from where he is seated at his desk - at Dumbledore's desk.

"I beg your pardon?" Voldemort sneers.

Snape is not impressed. "I am not going to let Harry allow you the use of your magic to teach. You can teach the theoretic and Harry, your assistant can show them the practical part."

Harry can feel Voldemort's annoyance. He feels insulted himself, being the Saviour of the Wizarding world and now reduced to Voldemort's assistent.

Snape continues. "As for you being here. The Board of Directors have approved this arrangement for some reason I don't understand, but I will not have the students addressing you by your made up name. You will use your real one, which is?" He puts a quill to a piece of paper in readiness to write down the answer.

Voldemort just glares at him.

"Tom Riddle," Harry answers and ignores the murderous glare Voldemort is sending him. A small revenge he thinks, for everything. He know how much Voldemort hats his name.

Snape jots the name down. "Good. I have arranged for an apartment for you two with two bedrooms and bathrooms, a kitchen and living room. In the dungeon."

Voldemort smiles. Harry groans.