Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, or any of it's characters, so don't sue me!
Pairing: hmm…not sure, but will be slash if anything…
Warning: Some spoilers from OoTP. (order of the phoenix - for mere mortals)
Plot: A weird thing which I just thought of this morning (I don't think I am copying anyone, so…*shrug*)
Basically, my theory on how Harry could get out of the war (kind of), and still manage to save all the people whose lives 'supposedly' depend upon him. Afterall, Harry's a teenage boy…if it were you in his place, don't you think the pressure would have some…unforeseen consequences?
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The truth as we know it…is actually quite flexible.
"I believe we've been patient enough, Lucius. We move in on the Ministry tonight."
The figure of Lucius Malfoy halted its pacing, turning to look at the figure on the dais in a mixture of wonder, delight and anxiety. "What are your orders, my Lord?"
"Surround the building and force entry. Stun everyone in the building, but kill all the mudbloods when you round them all up. We want to send a message to Dumbledore. We are here, and we won't be going anywhere, nor shall we be defeated by a runt of a…!"
"Tut, tut, tut…"
Shaking his head sorrowfully, the boy responsible for the sound of disappointment emerged from the shadows behind the Dark Lord's chair. Casually leaning against the intricate stone carvings, which the series of cave were made out of, the boy folded his arms across his chest - the picture of indolent carelessness.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you. The consequences of that series of actions would prove fatal, as it were, for all involved. For you, especially, might I add."
Rising from his seat in shock, the great, Lord Voldemort slowly descended the stairs leading down from the dais, keeping his eyes on the boy at all times, in an attempt to protect his back from attack. Moving even further backwards, his ordinary brown eyes darted away from the person in plain sight, searching the rest of the room with small, darting movements. Standing at the same level as the shell-shocked Lucius, Voldemort gathered his poise around him and…whispered out the side of his mouth like a guilty school-boy.
"Lucius! How the hell did he manage to get in here? Where the fuck are my guards? And I hope you have a bloody good suggestion as to how we manage this situation!"
"Don't take it out on him, Tom. I won't reveal how I managed this, nor will I tell you what has happened to your guards…relax it's nothing permanent…I can, however, tell you how you are going to handle this 'situation'. It's quite good actually, as it is the only way you can handle this situation." Harry paused for effect, green eyes noting he was the centre of attention.
"You are going to listen to me."
At that, Voldemort threw back his head and allowed a real laugh to pass through his lips, for the first time in years. Swallowing his laugh to a chuckle, Voldemort, formerly known as Tom Riddle, stared up at his supposed 'arch-nemesis', who, as it turned out, was just a boy.
"Oh, I'm going to 'listen' to you am I? And what are you planning on saying? 'Don't kill me, it's wrong'?" Irony laced his words, twisting his handsome features with a bone-deep bitterness. "In case you missed the memo, I am the embodiment of all that is dark and evil…wrong. So, do enlighten me as to how, you telling me that fact, could possibly change my ways."
"I'm not here to tell you that. As you've so aptly pointed out, you are already aware of that minor fact. And I do mean minor."
Here Harry paused, pushing himself away from the stone wall, and moving quietly farther into the light given off by the torches. Stopping at the edge of the dais, he seemed oblivious to the fact that the person who'd been trying to kill him all of his life, was standing less than a foot away in front of him.
His green eyes darkened in colour, as Harry struggled to put his point across from under a thousand different scenarios, a thousand different prophecies, and a thousand different endings.
"All my life I have been taught about good and evil. Wrong versus right. Led to believe the two eternally battle it out, until one of them wins, after which there is a period where the winning side is in control, before another opposing force rises up, and the battle begins all over again."
"An eternal cycle of the same event, only played out in any number of different combinations, scenarios. The ethics remain the same. Sure, there are varying degrees of the two opposites, and the players are constantly shifting, changing, switching sides, dying, being replaced, yet, they all fight for the same thing in the end. To see which side the coin lands on."
"Nobody is ever interested in the neutral party. The grey, bland area in between the two polar opposites. There is never any talk of the two opposites reaching a compromise, and maybe shifting into that grey area themselves. Dumbledore never speaks of bargaining with you, or you with him. The thought of reaching an agreement never even crosses your minds. Until now."
Holding his hand up to halt Harry's flow of words, Voldmort frowned in thought before reaching a decision about something.
"You've come here to negotiate a…peace? Between…good and…evil?"
Expression never changing, the boy nodded his head, a lock of silky black hair falling into his eyes. A strained silence dropped over the odd trio; Voldmort processing what had been said so far, Harry waiting for Voldemort to finish those thoughts, and Lucius…waiting for someone to tell him the punchline for the joke.
"You've got to be kidding me! I mean, hell, I know they call you the boy-who-lived, but I think the title may have gone to your head slightly! Nobody can negotiate a peace between good and evil! By definition they are each the absence of the other, it is mathematically impossible, therefore, for any sort of…truce, to be reached! Tell him, my Lord, tell him how mad his plan is. Then we can kill him and move on with our planning, or better yet…use him as a hostage, bait, a bargaining chip to get the wizarding world to give up and accept your rule…"
"No." Raising his head once more, Voldemort looked from the boy, to his servant, and back again.
"I trust you have thought this out in greater depth. Your plan wasn't just to come here and announce to me that you wanted 'peace', was it?" Harry nodded, a confident, knowing grin, tugging at his lips.
"Very well then, Lucius, go and see to the guards. Aid them, replace them, whatever, just make sure the base is protected. I believe one unexpected visitor is enough for today, oh, and make sure I remain undisturbed."
Knowing better than to question his master, Lucius headed for the door at the end of the hall, directly opposite the dais.
Moving cautiously, Voldemort climbed back up the steps, watching the boy retreating back into the shadows as he did so. Turning his chair around so that it was facing the shadows, Voldemort sat down. Not so much a show of trust - just the fact that his wand was concealed in one of the arms of the chair.
Making sure the shadows shielded his partially-glowing eyes, Harry carefully monitored the outcome of all of his actions, using his seer abilities. One wrong move, and he knew Voldemort would attempt to kill him using his 'craftily' concealed wand, which was currently residing in the right arm of the chair, if one of the possible outcomes was to be believed. Harry had taken measures to ensure his own safety, but he would like to have some warning before being attacked.
"I am prophesised as being the opposite of you. You have fashioned an image of evil for yourself, and as such your actions shaped mine, so that, in the future, I am going to be considered a force of absolute good. To counter balance the effect of your existence in the world. It has always been this way. This is how nature keeps herself in check."
"At the moment, however, I am a teenager. This is a state in a person's life that is renowned for metamorphoses, a constant shifting of image, emotions, behaviour, as people try to find the person they are meant to be. I like to refer to this as the 'grey period', when anything is possible."
"I am neither good nor evil, as of yet. By marking me as your enemy, you yourself decided what I will become when I grow up. Dumbledore will, of course, cement that, as he wants as many soldiers for the light as possible. I would rather remain in this grey area to be perfectly honest. I don't see things as chequered as everyone else, and I have no wish to be forced into that mindset."
"So, I have come up with a compromise, of sorts. From what little I know of you, through our link, our 'meetings', and everything people have told me, I have some small clue as to what it is you want."
"You hated your muggle father, and feel you are less than perfect because his foul blood runs in your veins. To make up for this, you want to create the 'perfect wizarding society', in which nobody's blood has been diluted by muggles, with money and privilege going hand in hand. I would never condone the killing of another being, not by your hand, and certainly not by mine. I do understand the reasons people give for this act, but I can never forget what they have done, despite my understanding."
"I propose you get your 'perfect wizarding society'. You certainly have enough supporters to create it. I believe that your dreams can be realised, with certain boundaries of course, and in a 'peaceful' manner. If you were given your own piece of land, enchanted so no one can enter of exit without your personal permission, I see no reason why you wouldn't be able to build this world you dream of."
"Given some time, you could become a self-sufficient society. It probably wouldn't even take all that long with the help of magic. Anybody who shares your views could simply relocate to your domain. You would be ruler there, as you wish, and as such in charge of punishing your people as you see fit. The only things I would not condone, are the killing of them, or the mental torture of them, i.e.: breaking them."
Voldemort had eased forwards in his seat, looking for all the world like an attentive student, a slight frown of concentration marring his otherwise smooth forehead. Taking a deep breath, Harry continued outlining his idea, sensing he was moving towards the path he wanted. At a snails crawl, but still going in the right direction.
"The ministry and Dumbledore will not agree with my idea obviously. They are white, and as such believe all others should be too. I felt you might be more open to my suggestion, seeing how willing you are to dabble in new types of magic. This grants you a slightly broader mindset, and I felt, to be perfectly honest, you were the safer of the two options."
"What?!" Straightening as though a bolt of electricity had shot down his spine, Voldemort stared at Harry's shadowed figure incredulously, then burst out laughing again. "Whatever else you may be boy - fool, idiot, damaged in the head - you certainly are entertaining!"
"Your…offer, does sound interesting. However, you have just highlighted one of the main problems with it. There is no way you will be able to convince Dumbledore or the Ministry to go through with it, and without their go-ahead, there is no way for your plan to be put into action."
"Then there is the small problem of sincerity. How am I meant to know whether or not this is some extravagant trick on Dumbledore's behalf? The old man is certainly clever enough to come up with it, but a small boy? I'm not so sure."
Standing up from his chair, Voldemort advanced a few, short steps towards the shadowy figure, brown eyes narrowing as he spoke with a cruel, calculating drawl.
"How could a boy find my hideout on his own? How could he take out my guards, all on his own? How could he possibly implement his 'supposed' plan…all on his own? I don't think he could. I think…he had help. Severus!"
Stopping just out of arms reach, Voldemort half turned, in order to watch the door as one of his Deatheater's entered.
The dark clad figure made it halfway across the hall, before he noticed his Lord had a visitor. Slowing down slightly, the man nevertheless continued forwards, visibly trying to get a clearer view of the boy. Coming to a complete stop at the foot of the dais, Voldemort stepped back, allowing Severus Snape a clear view of Harry Potter. A shocked gasp rang through the room, and Voldemort looked back at Harry, his eyes narrowing in thought.
"Now that you've seen I'm here separate from them, why don't you send the faithless spy away, so we can continue with our…chat?"
Mostly monologue, I'm afraid, but I wanted to get the basics of Harry's plan down. It is, of course, more detailed than that, but I'm giving you as much as Harry is giving Voldemort. Lol.
R&R, please? *cyber choccies to my reviewers - thanx for the comments*