22. The Machinations of War and Peace and Marriage

Part II

Harry didn't look up again and by the beginning of the pudding course it became quite obvious to Voldemort that Harry was struggling with more than just memories. He sat rigidly in his chair and chewed on his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood.

"Harry?" Voldemort asked.

"I know." Harry clenched his fist on the table. "I'm working on it." It was a growl.

Then he was right. It was the soul shard acting up again. Less than 24 hours after the last time it had to be calmed down. That was not good. For his own part it was simply inconvenient, for Harry it was much worse. It was still far too early to conclude whether it would always be this way, with less than a full day and night between the episodes, but it was not off to a great start either.

And it would get Harry agitated again, he had no doubt. Rightfully so, he had to concede.

Now Astoria, Draco and Severus were looking at Harry, but Severus had enough sense to look away hastily without any prompting. Astoria and Draco were a bit slower, and Astoria gave Voldemort a worried glance before looking away and forcing herself to begin a conversation with her husband, and pull Severus into it.

"That it happens now does not necessarily indicate that it always has to happen this rapidly," Voldemort said in a low voice.

"I know that," Harry ground out and got stiffly to his feet.

Just as stiffly he went towards the door without looking at anyone. Voldemort got to his feet, with the rest of the table following him immediately. He nodded at Astoria and said:

"I will talk to you all later." His gaze went to Severus and watched as the man nodded, then bowed. He knew he could not leave without talking to Voldemort first.

Harry was already halfway up the first flight of stairs. He went quickly, but still stiffly, and he was shaking slightly. Voldemort considered trying to say something while he walked beside Harry up the second flight of stairs. But what could he say in this situation that did not rub salt in the wounds, or enraged Harry?

From Harry's point of view, this was Voldemort's fault. In Voldemort's own point of view, it also was his fault. He could not possibly have known the consequences of his actions, and yet, he had done them, and this was the result. He had experienced a notable betterment of his mind and faculties because Harry was in close proximity to him part of the day. For Harry it was surely the other way around. Because of this, his already battered mind suffered even more.

What was there to say in such a situation? Voldemort couldn't even act contrite, because while he was apologetic that Harry suffered, he wasn't even the slightest bit remorseful for what he had done. It had worked better for him than he had anticipated. He could not regret stabilising his mind further.

So, he walked silently beside his spouse and only turned when he heard Nagini hiss:

"Young consort, you are in pain again! What have you done now?"

The great serpent stared unblinkingly at Voldemort, the closest thing she came to a glare, he was sure, and he was about to answer when Harry faltered with a whimper and grasped blindly in the air.

"No, no, no, too much. Please. Too much!" He careened and struck the wall with a shoulder. "Please, no, too much. No! It's … too much! No!"

"Young consort? Nagini will help you!" She slithered closer.

Harry held his hands around his head and sobbed while he muttered the same words again and again.

If the soul shard in Harry drove Harry to crave physical contact with Voldemort, that Harry didn't want, and then the soul shard in Nagini told Harry to relax, which he probably didn't want to do right now either … Then two outside forces, or at least outside forces as far as Harry's own will went, were pushing him in two different directions. Neither way which Harry actually wanted to go. He was pushed mercilessly towards doing something he didn't want to, and feeling something that was completely wrong for the situation he was in.

That would be too much for anyone. Let alone one that was as battered and hurt as Harry already was.

"Nagini, dearest, go talk to Astoria, I will help Harry," Voldemort said.

"But the young consort is in pain …" she looked like she wanted to get even closer to Harry, but Harry was sobbing harshly now, his whole body trembling.

"I know, and I will take care of it. Go."

She hissed in agitation and he knew she would sulk about being sent away later, and then she disappeared down the stairs.

Harry calmed down a bit when Nagini left, but he was still trembling on the floor. Voldemort knelt by him.

"Harry, can you hear me?"

His only answer was a whimper.

"Harry, it's not over yet. We should get you to your rooms."

This time there was no answer at all. Voldemort wondered if the soul shard were ripping into Harry's mind again. Slowly, and very mindful of the fact that Harry might attack him like he had done the night before, he put a hand over Harry's. Only his excellent reflexes made sure that he not only caught Harry in his arms when he flung himself against Voldemort, but that he was able to get to his feet afterwards.

The other man clung to him, his legs around Voldemort's waist and his hands clawing at Voldemort's robes before he managed to put one hand down his back under the robes and one hand on his neck. Voldemort's own arms were around Harry's back, under his shirt, and at the base of his skull. Harry's face was burrowed against Voldemort's neck.

While Voldemort was grateful for the fact that it seemed that Harry, or the soul shard, was satisfied with the placement of Harry's hands, and thus would probably not claw his back open again, Harry's mouth, and teeth, so close to his throat, did indeed worry him. The claw marks he had gotten the night before had been less than fun, but the truly unsettling part had been when Harry had plunged his teeth into Voldemort's throat, dangerously close to his jugular. That was something Voldemort did not need to experience again.

Ever.

After he left Harry the night before, he had used the rest of the night trying to figure out what kind of magical creature-, or being-, heritage, Harry had. Because as far as Voldemort knew, there were no creature or being that could look and act completely human, and then partly transform and get the teeth and claws of a predator. Not like Harry had done. Voldemort would guess it was the claws and teeth of a kind of big cat, but it was impossible to be certain, because he had only felt the teeth and claws, not seen them.

Could it be that it was the soul shard that had made it happen? That when it had been driven into almost killing Harry, everything, and anything, of Voldemort's was good enough to keep it from extinction, including Voldemort's blood? Could it be a survival trait, somehow? Voldemort didn't know, and he was loath to ask Harry and get him distressed over yet another thing that he couldn't control or didn't understand. He was already obviously on the very brink of what he could cope with.

What Voldemort did know was that his spouse was a mystery, and Voldemort liked to solve mysteries. This mystery was definitely one worth solving.

Voldemort opened the door into Harry's suite and got them into the bedroom, where Harry suddenly licked his neck once. That was almost certainly not good, so Voldemort vanished Harry's shirt and his own robes before the teeth came into play. The other man strengthened his hold around Voldemort. Only the fact that Harry was starved and far too slender, combined with the fact that Voldemort did care enough about his body to exercise, got them into the bed without accidents.

Harry continued to cling to Voldemort, but kept from clawing and biting, which was a good sign, Voldemort supposed. He knew that when Harry was able to focus again, he wouldn't be happy about being chest against chest. Being that way was somehow too close, but right now, it was impossible for Voldemort to change their position, so he had to be patient and wait.

And he did.

Less than an hour went by before Harry began to breathe faster and sob silently, his body shaking slightly. Voldemort made sure to not move his hands and keep his breath slow and steady.

"What the hell …" Harry groaned.

Silence. Harry moved enough to find a better position and then slowly he relaxed, bit by bit. He didn't try to turn around and didn't try to get away. Voldemort didn't know if Harry found it hard to move away because of the soul shard, or if he was confused enough not to realise the situation completely.

"Seriously," Harry said after a while, his voice raw but also more clear than before. "What the hell happened? I had it under some kind of control and then … I think … I lost it … again … Damn, Nagini was there and …" He groaned. "Do I owe her another pair of rabbits and an apology?"

"No, it is I who owe her an apology. She wanted to help you, but because I believe it was she, or the soul shard in her, that made things harder on you, I sent her away. She did not want to leave you, and I became sharp with her."

Voldemort knew exactly what, or more precisely who, he could give Nagini as an apology.

Let the fool have some worth in his miserable life.

"Do explain that for me again. Slowly."

Despite the confusion Harry still didn't seem upset, and Voldemort found himself grateful for that.

"You seemed relatively fine when leaving the dining room. Not happy, but functioning and completely cognisant."

"That I remember."

"When we arrived at the last landing Nagini appeared, smelling your distress all the way from my rooms. It seemed that her arrival brought you confusion and pain. That was how I interpreted it. You said it was too much, you said 'no' and you pleaded for it to stop. It seemed to me that you now had to wrestle with the soul shard inside you, and its needs, as well as the soul shard inside Nagini and its usually calming effect on you. That seemed to be too much for your own mind, and I sent Nagini away. You appeared to calm down then, but was no longer cognisant. I got you into your rooms. It has been a bit over an hour now."

"I vaguely remember hearing Nagini … and nothing after that." He shivered suddenly, and then shivered even harder.

Voldemort pulled the blankets over them both and put a warming spell on them.

"Did I seem delirious to you?" Harry whispered through the shivers.

"As I said, I doubt you were cognisant in the time you do not remember, but it was nothing at all compared to yesterday."

"Good," Harry said vehemently, and Voldemort couldn't help but agree. "I really have to try to turn around, it's becoming too much. Too close …"

"Of course. Go slowly at first, just to be sure."

Harry did, and it seemed that he didn't have too much trouble turning around. Voldemort didn't know if it was deliberately on Harry's part or if it was the soul shard that made it happen, but when Harry had his back to Voldemort, he pressed himself closer and his hands over Voldemort's pushed Voldemort's hands into Harry's flesh. Voldemort thought it best not to comment, at this time.

Harry stopped shivering after a while.

"I'm glad that you use trousers under your robes. I'm certain that would have been too much skin against skin contact for me, at this point."

Voldemort hesitated, but in the end saw no reason not to admit the truth. "I do not usually wear trousers under my robes. I began today. Yesterday I conjured a pair when I realised I needed them, or more to the point, that you would probably prefer it if I used them."

"Oh. Well. The sentiment still stands." He was quiet for a while. "So, Nagini and an agitated soul shard does not mix then."

"It would seem so. I will inform her, and she will keep away at those times."

Harry swallowed audibly. "Do you believe that this means that this … thing … has to happen once every day?"

"I cannot say. You largely handled it better today than yesterday and regained awareness faster than yesterday, too. The fact that you needed skin against skin contact again today might be a remnant after yesterday. Or it might not. I do not want to speculate with this little information."

"Alright. I see your point." He hesitated. "Could I move your hand a bit?"

"Yes, certainly, always feel free to do so when I am touching you."

Harry moved the hand that lay over his stomach higher up and placed it over his sternum. The other hand was already placed over Harry's collarbone.

"Any specific reason for that move?" Voldemort asked.

"Did you notice what your hand brushed?"

"A prominent scar," Voldemort said slowly. "You have a lot of them, I think I am touching at least two right now."

"Yes, but that scar is … worse. The memories connected to it are worse."

"Noted. I will remember that."

"Thanks."

They didn't speak any more until Harry suggested that he felt better and slowly inched away from Voldemort, before breathing a sigh of relief. He looked over his shoulder and nodded at Voldemort.

"I'm going to take a shower and then take a walk in the park, since the rain has let up."

"Do that." Voldemort got out of the bed and was walking across their shared sitting room when he heard Harry call for Dobby and ask the elf to air out the bedroom. Voldemort could understand the notion. The room held the scent of fear and despair, the sheets on the bed were saturated in sweat and tears. Even if the situation had been quieter than the day before, it hadn't been easy. Better, yes, but far from easy.

Voldemort dressed in black robes and went straight down to the dungeons. He hadn't intended to be away from his prisoners for so long, but he had had to check in on Harry and then they had begun to talk. Talking with Harry was much more interesting than to hear the wretched men snivel their pathetic excuses. Voldemort would never like when his people failed him, but he knew now that he could manage failure better than he could handle excuses.

When he stopped at the bottom of the stairs, he removed his glamour and wasn't much surprised that he still had his least human appearance. Pathetic excuses on top of failure; it was simply too much. Not even hours of interesting discussion or thoughts of the mystery Harry was, could change that fact. But he was grateful that his glamour was good enough that Harry didn't seem to notice.

He went into the only occupied cell in the dungeon. Two men sat chained to their chairs, and one man hung by his wrists from chains on the wall.

"Do you want to tell me again how you managed to misplace one single witch?" he hissed at the man on the wall.

He was the one that came with the pathetic justifications. The two others were at least smart enough to apologise for their failure and come up with a couple of ideas on how to find the witch again.

"My Lord, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please! She was just a slip of a girl, how were we to know …! My Lord …!"

The red colour of the Cruciatus Curse lit up the room and the man screamed and tossed around in his chains. Voldemort only held the curse for half a minute. Enough to be noticed, but far from devastating. If he revelled in the man's pained screams, then Harry wasn't here to get upset about it.

"How did you manage to lose Miss Granger? You are three wizards that had the task to keep track of one witch!"

The man on the wall gasped for air. "It wasn't our fault! She is a sneaky little mudblood and tricked us!" He screamed as he was hit with another Cruciatus. Voldemort kept this one going far longer.

Voldemort turned towards the two men chained to the chairs.

"And you two?"

"My Lord, we underestimated her, gravely," one man said hurriedly. "We thought too highly of ourselves and our own expertise and did not consider that she has lived on the run for years and is most likely very well versed at losing people that's on her tail. She is highly intelligent and scarily competent, to be quite honest, my Lord."

"So, instead of blaming your failure on her through her shortcomings, you blame your failure on her through her competence. At least it is original, and most likely far closer to the truth. I have it on good authority that she could wipe the floor with the three of you without batting an eye. You will stay here tonight and leave tomorrow to pick up Miss Granger's trail again, and to make sure that you try your best, Nagini will keep you company while you are here."

Voldemort left and found Astoria, Nagini, Draco and Severus in the parlour next to the dining room. Astoria had Nagini's great head on her lap and was petting her, which was why Voldemort simply waved it away when Astoria tried to get up to bow when he entered the room, but was hindered due to her lap being full of content serpent. Severus and Draco got up, bowed, and waited to sit until Voldemort did.

Nagini hissed happily. He would have to give her a rabbit or two a week or so from now, instead of feeding that snivelling wretch to her. He would surely give her indigestion, besides; Voldemort was not supposed to feed her people anymore.

Or so Astoria claimed.

Voldemort himself claimed that if he was going to kill someone anyway, they could at least be of some use by feeding his familiar.

"My Lord, how is Harry?" Astoria asked, because she was the only one of them who both cared enough and had the nerve to do so. Except Nagini, of course, but she was half asleep.

"Better now. He is soon on his way out into the garden, I imagine. It was not nearly as harrowing as yesterday, and while I hope it will be a bit longer until the next episode, I am not sure that I can truly believe it. Harry, of course, hopes so even more fervently than I."

"Then, you found out what was wrong with Mr. Potter, my Lord?" Severus asked.

"Yes, I did, Severus, and this is a secret you have to keep completely to yourself. I will not tell you what his vulnerability is, none of you will know that much, but you can never reveal that he has such a vulnerability at all. Just know that I am the only one able to help him, and that if he ever asks for me, you will do whatever necessary to make sure I know of it. No matter the circumstance. There is no excuse good enough not to get word to me as soon as humanly and magically possible. No excuse at all. This has almost taken his life once; I will not risk such a thing again. I hope I have made myself clear?"

"Absolutely, my Lord," Severus said and bowed from his sitting position.

Draco and Astoria did the same.

Voldemort didn't intend to leave Harry much alone until Harry reached a point where he was able to ask for the help he needed. To do something else would be dangerous.

"Is there anything I can do for him, my Lord, except tell you if he should need me to?" Astoria asked.

"I do not believe so, Astoria. He agreed to speak somewhat to you when he refused to speak to me. Whatever you have been doing so far is good enough, please continue doing it."

She smiled. "Yes, my Lord. Thank you, my Lord. Would you like something to drink, tea or something stronger?"

"Something stronger, I think. The idiots in the dungeon have given me a headache. Not a literal one, but still …" He accepted a tumbler of firewhiskey from Prim.

"How did they lose Granger, my Lord?" Draco asked and got his own tumbler from Prim.

"Through their own incompetence or her competence, depending how you want to look at it." He took a drink.

"My Lord, why do you want to keep an eye on Miss Granger?" Astoria asked and took her wine glass from Prim.

"Because she is Harry's closest friend, and someone already tried to use her against him."

Astoria frowned in thought.

"Madam Bones and the whole debacle at the Ministry," he added.

"Oh," she said. "Oh my, that's not good!"

"Indeed," he said drily because he found that statement a touch too timid. "There is only a question of time before someone gets their hands on her and tries to force Harry into doing something. He would do it too, without question or thought. Not because he is a Gryffindor," he said sharply when Draco rolled his eyes, "but because that is how they have lived for almost the entire war. Completely dependent on each other, and no one else. If I could trust Harry to ask for help, it would be different, but he will not ask for any help at this point in time. So, I would much rather know where Miss Granger is, and whom she associates with, than one day find out that Harry has taken off because someone threatens Miss Granger."

"Would you like me to impress the importance of their mission on the idiots in the dungeon, my Lord?" Astoria asked sweetly. There was a cold fire now, in her ice blue eyes.

He nodded at her. "An excellent idea, Astoria. I am quite done with their foolishness. The fool that hangs on the wall is the greatest of the three of them. All of them must be able to get back to their task tomorrow morning, but if they can be properly motivated not to fail me again, that would be appreciated. Take Nagini with you, I promised them her company tonight. Though, she is not to maim, kill or eat them."

He repeated his words to Nagini, and the two of them left to do his bidding, and have their fun.

A/N:

Thank you for the comments, the favs and the follows! They are very much appreciated! I love to hear what you think about the story and the characters!

What did you think about Voldemort's POV? Did it work out alright? Is he believable?

Hope you liked it! Please review!