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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Preparation is the key to all things
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A stunned Severus had been repelled from the massive chamber with a flick of Voldemort's wand, which had been hidden in the right arm of the chair, as Harry had foreseen.
Heavy doors slammed shut after the newly departed, the sound reverberating throughout the cavernous hall. The doors were so deep in the shadows, that it was impossible to see the source of the sound from the dais Voldemort still stood at.
Brown eyes still narrowed in speculation, Voldemort turned to face his unexpected guest once more.
Tucked back in the murk behind his chair, the boy-who-lived, didn't look very human at that moment, let alone like a boy. The flickering torchlight attempted to throw his face into relief, but only managed to cloak his face in further darkness, with the darker shading showing Voldemort where the hollows of his cheeks were - no longer plump with youth.
Suddenly wanting to see what it was precisely the shadows hid, Voldemort took a step closer to the wraith-like boy. At once he realised his mistake, but it was too late, and the boy turned like a startled deer, ducking into the darkness headfirst, as though it was deeper than it looked.
And maybe it was, Voldemort mused, as his searching hand came into contact with solid stone, for the boy at any rate.
Sighing with what felt, strangely, like disappointment, Voldemort returned to his chair, sinking into the padding gratefully. Returning his wand to its hidden compartment, Voldemort stared contemplatively into the darkness behind his chair, not completely sure what had just transpired. That Severus was a spy was no revelation, he'd known for years. That Harry Potter didn't want to be the hero the wizarding world had made him, whilst something new, was hardly surprising, now that he thought about it.
After all, what kind of kid wants to have that kind of responsibility on his shoulders? Had Dumbledore even considered that fact, before he'd dumped all of his problems onto someone else's remarkably smaller shoulders? No, probably not. Thinking abstractly, was something Dumbledore was surprisingly bad at, especially considering how loopy he normally was. One of the reasons he had been so surprised by Voldemort's actions, and so unprepared to deal with Voldemort's 'evil' plans.
The sound of cloth brushing against stone jerked Voldemort's head back up, and he blinked his surprise when he saw Harry Potter had returned, though where he had gone was still somewhat of a mystery.
"Let's make something clear from the beginning, Tom. I will help you get what you want, and I will also help the Ministry and the Order of the Phoenix get what they want. For you, your own kingdom to rule over. For the other's, you and the other Death Eaters gone from their world."
"I won't, however, join either side. You, I came to, as I said, because I thought you would be more amenable to my proposition. That doesn't mean we are going to become best buddies, or any shit like that. So, I would prefer to keep these meetings, if not secret, at the very least, not public."
"You have no need to see me in order to accomplish your dream. Just think of me as your mysterious benefactor, and leave the rest to me, okay?"
Still lurking in the shadows, the boy had lost his air of indolence, and was evidently not best pleased with Voldemort's actions. No longer leaning languidly against the stones, he stood up right, arms crossed over his chest to show he wasn't prepared to compromise on this point.
"All right then, meeting in the shadows it is." Shoving down his curiosity before he did something else stupid and scared his visitor off for good, Voldemort turned to the reason for Harry's appearance. "You were going to outline your plan for me, I believe?"
"Yes, right, umm..." Folded arms loosened, then relaxed by the boy's side, as he lost his anger in the face of Voldemort's acceptance of his demand. Evidently the boy was no good at remaining upset, a thought which comforted Voldemort slightly for some reason.
"The main problem, as you said, is getting the agreement of Dumbledore and the Ministry. I have come up with a plan which will not only gain their agreement, but also insure they can't break it. Ever."
"For obvious reasons, I don't particularly want to tell you exactly what I plan to do. I will however tell you what the results of my labour will be."
"A signed contract, giving you permission to have your piece of land, and set up your own society there. Included in the contract will be a…safety measure, ensuring nobody launches an attack against your society. As you no doubt understand, without this measure, your society would rather be like a cage. Built to trap all who believe in the same things as you do, making them easy prey to be picked off."
"You will, of course, have to sign a contract to similar effect. Yours however will also contain a sub-contract which all members of your society will have to sign, before they are allowed entrance to your land. This will not only protect you from spies and assassins entering your domain, but it will also give you a hold over all of your people, making policing them an easy task."
Turning the idea over in his head, Voldemort acknowledged the fact that the boy was probably his best bet in getting his dream realised. Even if he did gain control over the wizarding world, he would forever be quelling rebellions, not to mention the large majority of the wizarding world was comprised of mudbloods and people who didn't agree with his views. That way would result in a lot of bloodshed, something Voldemort had never particularly relished, contrary to popular belief. What the boy was offering him though, was almost guaranteed to turn out peacefully, especially when the boy had admitted to being against murder.
"I trust you have brought the contract to show me?"
Reaching behind him, the boy pulled something out of back pocket of his jeans. The motion drew Voldemort's attention to the boy's attire. Black boots, black jeans, black turtle-neck jumper. With his black hair covering a large portion of his face, practically the only part of the boy not cloaked in darkness were his hands, and the lower half of his face.
The rustling of paper pulled his attention back to the documents now in the boy's pale hands. Harry darted forward enough to drop the stack of parchment into Voldmort's lap, then jumped backwards so quickly all Voldemort had time to do was blink.
Ignoring the boys odd behaviour in favour of leafing through the contract, Voldemort noted the fact that the parchment practically crackled with magic under his fingers.
"What spells are on this contract? Just for future reference, you understand."
The boy ducked his head down, cloaking his face in further shadows, but not before Voldemort caught a glimpse of the half-smile adorning the boy's face.
"Binding spells mainly. Some major ones, some minor, a variety of linking spells as well."
"The contract is binding, throughout the generations, that's what the major binding spells ensure. I didn't make it hereditary though. I made it so that whoever is in power, in your society, or in the wizarding world, is bound to the contract. The linking spells make the need for their signatures redundant. There is also a linking spell in the wizarding world's contract, linking the members of that world, to the binding."
"Basically, the only difference between the two contracts, is that members of your society have to sign their names onto your sub-contract, which binds them to the main contract. This also serves to officially declare them no longer members of the wizarding world, putting their allegiance into your hands, thus rendering them answerable to you alone."
"These are only very rough, but I tried to make them as binding as possible, to escape the need for bloodshed. Once your society has gotten settled down, it might be possible to negotiate a link between the two worlds, enabling trading, and possibly visits between the two."
"Your sole belief is that you are better than muggles, and through them, mudbloods. For this reason, any with muggle blood running in their veins will be instantly transported to you should they venture into your lands. If you give them a magical permit, they will only be there temporarily, and as such are untouchable by your people. If, however, they plan being there on a more permanent basis, your people have the right to 'own' them, as slaves."
"They will, however, be treated more like employees than slaves, and be granted their own set of rights."
"I've already incorporated the part about them being transported straight to you upon entry in your territory, but creating a whole working, slave, sub-culture, that will take longer. Until such a time, I think it would be best if you simply returned any who should wander upon your lands, preferably to the Ministry. That would not only show you are willing to compromise, but it would go a long way to dispelling the view that you are evil."
Subsiding into silence, Harry monitored Voldemort's every action, running through the outcomes to see if he was succeeding in his task.
Voldemort finished reading through the documents, then looked up abruptly as the silence registered. A flash of glowing green caught his eye, and for a moment he thought Harry was casting Avada Kedavra. As the boy leaned back into the shadows slightly, he realised that wasn't the case. Apparently the boy had more reasons for wanting to hide in the shadows, than his distaste for being seen dealing with Voldemort.
"Do you want my signature now, or do I get some time to think upon it before signing?"
Determinedly keeping his gaze locked on the floor, Harry answered without looking up, positive Tom had caught the flash of green from his eyes while Harry had monitored the outcomes.
"Take however long you need, my offer isn't going to disappear. Granted, the sooner you agree, the sooner I can set the plan in motion, but this kind of decision shouldn't be rushed."
Looking back at the parchment on his lap, Voldemort pursed his lips as he thought it over.
On the one hand, signing the contract would bind him to the agreement completely, something that would definitely be bad should he need to break the agreement. He had no doubt that Harry had covered ever loop in the contract, and while the idea was good, he still wasn't sure he trusted the 'good' side to stick to their end of the deal.
"Get the Ministry and Dumbledore to sign, then I'll sign."
Harry sighed, the sound clearly heard across the distance. Following the trail of an outcome, Harry prayed he'd get the right result.
"Shame. I needed to get your signature first. Oh, well, if you change your mind, I'm sure you can find a way to let me know. I'll let myself out."
"Wait." Grumbling under, Voldemort shifted in his chair, then held out an impatient hand. "I suppose you remembered to bring a quill with you, didn't you?"
Smoothing his face blank of expression, Harry pulled out the quill from his pocket, then lightly chucked it over to Tom.
"Sign with your blood."
Making a face, Voldemort nevertheless pricked the tip of his finger with the sharp point of the feather, scribbling his signature and the date where indicated on the parchment, wetting the tip with his blood again when it dried.
"There. Now you need to hold up your end of the deal."
Refraining from reminding Tom that Harry wasn't on either side, the boy motioned with his hand. The parchment and quill flew into his grasp, and Harry ducked back into the shadows before Voldemort could react. A faint "Thanks", floating in the air behind him.
Sitting there, stunned, Voldemort glanced down at his bleeding finger, the only evidence that the boy had ever been there.
"Rude."
Crap, I know. *ducks head to avoid the crowd throwing tomatoes* I'll try to make the next chapter better, although it could take a while before I update - lot's to do!
R&R, please? *cyber choccies to those who review*