II

After spending most of the day walking the park and some of the surrounding neighborhood, a large portion of Harry's hunger returned and he made a beeline for Number 4 Privet Drive. The shortcut down the little side street had him nearly there in under a half hour but a feeling stopped him. He felt the strange compulsion from that morning with surprising pungency. It was such that he didn't think he could take another step in the direction of home. His head throbbed painfully, originating at his scar. He sank to his knees in the middle of the alley.

"What do you want!?" he ground out, looking less than sane to anyone who might have happened by.

"The world, of course. But for now, you'll do nicely," a thin voice floated across his mind.

"You can't have me."

"Come to me, Harry, and we shall see."

Harry couldn't believe the Dark Lord was in his head baiting him once again. Where did this capability come from? Harry struggled to ignore the pain in his head.

"You think I'm foolish enough to be fooled into a trap? Don't insult my intelligence. I'll never go to you, unless it's to kill you."

There was a tense pause before Voldemort answered softly.

"You seem to think you have some sort of control over the matter..."

There was another pause during which Harry had tried to formulate some response, or get off his knees, whichever he was capable of first.

"Imperio..."

Now, Harry had experienced the force of Imperius, and with some effort, had been quite capable of fighting it. Against the intensified version Voldemort had sent at him through his mind, he was defenseless. His body seized up of its own accord with an audible 'pop' and awaited a command. It was like the normal force of Imperius had been magnified tremendously. Was this really the power of Lord Voldemort?

"Come to me," he commanded once more.

It suddenly felt as if every cell in Harry's body was making an attempt to be anywhere but there, and he found darkness closing in his vision. He lost consciousness, his body automatically apparating seconds later.

Harry came to on a slightly dusty grey carpet in a small sitting room. He assumed it was a sitting room, but some of the furniture had been draped in dust cloth. He had awaken sprawled on the floor, left cheek pressed into the carpet. The throb in his head had dulled considerably, but he could sense Voldemort was nearby, maybe even rooms away.

Taking it slow, Harry was able to stand and walk to a set of double doors a few feet away. He felt the wards before even touching the painted wood. They were oppressive and ominous all around him. The room was so heavily guarded, he'd have to be Dumbledore to break free on his own. It seemed they weren't taking any chances with The-Boy-Who-Lived. He could even feel similarly strong wards on the building in general.

Harry vaguely wondered since when he'd been able to do things like sense wards and the Dark Lord's presence. The whole situation was spiraling out of control without him even knowing how it began. He hadn't even the time to send for help. He shook his head lightly, trying to clear away any negative thoughts. He could handle this; he was meant to face Voldemort. He wouldn't allow himself to be harmed by him. He felt for his wand, suddenly startled by its absence.

Well, of course they wouldn't let you remain armed. You're a hostage now.

Harry cautiously wracked his mind for Voldemort's presence, finding the familiar red pulse lurking distantly. The pulse intensified as it became aware of Harry's consciousness but there was no attempt to communicate.

Why this nonsense, Harry wondered. If Voldemort could cast Imperius on him from Merlin knew how far away, why not just kill him? There was something drastically amiss, and Harry didn't think he was ready for whatever Voldemort had concocted this time.

The doors swung open and two black-clad Death Eaters came in, their masked gazes falling on the boy immediately. "You're to come with us, Potter," one of them declared.

Like hell...

When the boy hadn't made any move to follow the wizard chuckled. "Going to be stubborn about it, then? I hoped you be defiant. Crucio."

Harry sucked in a huge breath at the impact of the spell, and screamed.

"Imbecile! He said not to hurt him."

"I won't do any permanent damage. I think he just needs motivation."

The spell ended and Harry lay gasping on the carpet once more. Large hands circled his forearms and hefted him to his feet. He was half dragged, half led down the hall to a familiar pair of doors.

Oh no.....

The doors opened as they approached and the scene opened like another dream. Voldemort, now even more physically restored than the dream, turned from the window.

"Leave him, gentlemen."

Harry's escorts bowed before leaving him alone with Voldemort, or Riddle as Harry was now beginning to see him. It must have been some extraordinary charms that got the Dark Lord to this state. The older wizard approached calmly, hands clasped behind his back. Harry took a small step back towards the door.

"Come now, Harry. If I wanted to kill you right now, do you really think there would be much you could do to stop me? I don't think I need to mention that you are unarmed."

Harry regarded him cautiously. "You sent the dreams, then?"

"A minor experiment. I trust you've noticed the change in our little...connection?"

Harry raised a brow but refused to comment.

"Funny what comes in handy." Riddle rounded an arm chair, expensive dark robes skirting the carpet gracefully. "I'll going to be frank with you, boy. I've found a better use for you in this war, and so long as you leave me other options, I won't kill you."

Harry didn't like where this was going.

"You've defied me on more than one occasion, and in most circumstances, that would have earned you your death without question. However, I think it more fitting a punishment to mould that foolish mind to my liking. The wizarding world will see their precious beacon of hope grow dimmer in my possession."

"You're going to keep me here?" Harry sounded skeptical. Riddle held his wand delicately in his right hand as he neared Harry.

The Dark Lord smiled thinly. "Not only will you be kept here, boy, you'll be made to serve me. And I think you'll even find there's some pleasure to had in your predicament."

"You've got to be joking."

Riddle raised a smooth brown. "Am I? Tell me, Harry, what exactly did you feel in your dreams this morning?" The cool tip of the wand suddenly glided down Harry's cheek. The boy started at the sensation.

Riddle was so close his scent filled Harry's nostrils. Soft breath wafted over Harry's skin scattering a bit of his perception to the wind. Crimson irises brought it back.

"Revulsion."

Riddle pulled back with a short laugh. "Was that before or after you became aroused?"

Again, Harry chose not to comment.

"You'll find there is little you can hide from me Harry." His tone became firm. "Starting now, you'll not eat, bathe, or sleep unless I've allowed it. You won't even see the light of day unless I feel you've deserved it. You will be spending a lot of time with me boy, it's best you learn the rules now if you wish to stay in tact. Is that clear?"

Harry was speechless, brows furrowed in disbelief.

Suddenly it felt as if his skin was on fire. Not just pain...burning. Harry gasped.

"Answer me."

After taking a second to realize what was happening he nodded quickly, trying not to scream as the heat became excruciating. Riddle tilted his head, eyeing Harry under his brows. "What's that?"

"Yes.....I understand." It had started to feel as if his blood was boiling, but there was no fire or smoke - just heat. Harry was frantic.

"And I thought you'd last a bit longer than that..."

After a second it ebbed away, leaving the boy sweating and choking. Riddle smiled. Oh, this boy would bring him so much pleasure.

The door opened, and a Death Eater - Pettigrew - entered promptly. "Yes, my Lord?"

"Take him. I'm finished for now."

The shuddering boy was led away on weak knees.