25. Peace and Calm
A/N:
The word r*pe is used and the concept is thought about in this chapter, but that is all. No memories, no details, no nothing. Just to be on the safe side, because I remembered it.
During tea that day, Harry finally made a decision that he thought might help him a bit, but that he feared he very well might live to regret, as so many of his choices in the past few months. So, when the last cup had been emptied Harry asked Voldemort if he had some time to talk in Harry's rooms. Voldemort acquiesced and soon after they sat in Harry's drawing room.
"I have been thinking …" Harry began, then hesitated.
"Sounds dangerous," Voldemort commented drily.
Harry blinked at him. "No. No, no. Dark Lords cannot banter. There must be a rule against it somewhere."
"I assure you we can, if so inspired. Might I also remind you how very little regard I have for nonsensical rules?" He raised his eyebrow a little, as if to say 'surely, you do remember that'.
"That is true … But know this, the Earth probably trembles on its axis when you do."
"I might be powerful, but I highly doubt that my words alone can shift the Earth off its axis."
Harry looked at him and shook his head. "Anyway, I have been thinking … That … thing that happened in the Atrium, when you were able to calm me down, do you believe it possible to recreate that … response? In me, I mean." It felt like his heart would hammer its way out of his chest, and while his hands did fist themselves in his lap, he managed to stay quietly on the sofa.
Voldemort looked at him for a long while before nodding slowly. "Perhaps. But why would you want to?"
Harry looked away while chewing on his bottom lip. "At first, I was terrified that I would end up like that, without a will of my own, and I'm still terrified of that. Truly terrified. But … I'm also so very tired of being afraid or angry or having panic attacks every damn time I … we have to calm the soul shard. Being that close to someone, having them at my back, having them holding me from behind, knowing it is you and knowing everything I know about you, even if I'm also starting to believe that you really are different than before … I'm so tired of the fear, the pain, the rage and the hopelessness of the whole situation, and I want, I need, a break … before it breaks me. There is no way to set it on pause, no way for me to catch my breath and gather myself before we continue. And while a sleep potion is an option …" Harry shuddered involuntarily at the thought of being completely helpless that way. "It's not really an option anyway.
"If what I experienced in the Atrium is possible to recreate without any difficulty, then …" He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. His heart was still hammering hard, but he needed to have this conversation. He needed to get through it, because even if it was only two weeks since the soul shard had begun to cause episodes every evening, even if it still could get better, easier, he was in hell right now.
"I was calm then, I felt safe, I felt like everything was under control, everything would work out," he whispered before he opened his eyes and looked at Voldemort, who looked steadily back. There was not even a hint of derision in the red gaze, nor superiority or triumph.
"Even knowing that it wasn't rational or real … I didn't care … Afterwards I was afraid that the spell I thought you had used would have long-lasting consequences, or even make me addicted. That fear didn't disappear when you told me that there had been no spell, and I know that this might be playing with fire … And yes, I'm … not enthused … by the thought of being … in your power like that again, but I'm so very tired of being afraid and upset, every day, long before it's actually necessary to retreat back here … I'm just so, so tired. When I first got here, I was holding on to my sanity by the skin of my teeth, now … Well, let's say it's not getting better and leave it at that."
Voldemort spent several minutes looking at him before he slowly nodded.
"Very well. If that is what you wish, we may try it and see if it works the way you want it to."
Harry hesitated. "In the Atrium, was it uncomfortable for you? Other than the fact that you had to keep my magic from erupting? Do you believe it would be unpleasant for you to try it now?"
That earned him a long stare. He almost categorised it as a scowl.
"Harry, you just admitted that you suffer heavily psychologically because of this, not that I did not know that already … Do you not think that I can cope with a little unpleasantness to give you a break from that suffering, now and again?"
Harry shrugged, unsure about what the answer should be. The way Voldemort spoke, it almost sounded like he cared that Harry suffered. Cared enough to want to give him a break, even if it should be unpleasant for Voldemort himself.
Voldemort cast a Tempus charm and got up. "I have one last meeting today. Do you feel fine, with respect to the soul shard?"
Harry thought about it and nodded. "Yes."
It almost always gave him trouble around nine in the evening. Sometimes a bit later, sometimes a bit earlier.
"Try to come and get me if that should change. Please." Voldemort made a point to say that, every day, at least once. It was a bit like he was conditioning Harry, little by little. Reminding him that he could, that he should, take that responsibility onto himself. It was Harry's sanity, body and life that suffered, after all. No matter how it happened and how it had started. Harry couldn't even condemn Voldemort for it. It made more sense that Harry asked for help when he needed it, than Voldemort always asking if he was alright. If Harry could ask for the help he very much didn't want to need, then he would be safer.
Harry looked away from Voldemort. "I'm not there yet. Sorry," he whispered.
"No matter. We may try your idea this evening, if you wish."
Harry nodded.
"Then I will see you at dinner."
Harry watched Voldemort while he left the room. The thick, black, slightly wavy hair brushed his broad shoulders, and the sleek dark grey robes sat tight across his back and upper arms and was tucked in by his trim waist before flaring to swirl around his legs and bare feet. The door closed behind him and Harry tossed an arm over his eyes with a groan and let himself slide down with his back to the sofa seat. He wasn't supposed to notice things like Voldemort's broad shoulders or his trim waist! It was bloody disconcerting that he did.
On the other hand, sooner rather than later he had to have sex with the man to consummate their marriage. Maybe it was just as well that he did notice, and appreciate, Voldemort's appearance. Having sex with him would be hard enough as it was. Maybe it would be easier if Harry was able to focus on his looks.
What else could make it easier? Harry mused. If it had been my choice completely … but in a way, it was my choice. I was fully aware that I would have to have sex with him, before we got married. I honestly thought I would be dead before we would come to that part, or possibly raped. Not sure that counts as validation of a marriage contract in the eyes of magic, but that wasn't my main worry back then … Anyway, I thought I would be able to suffer it, even before I knew that Voldemort had changed, inside and out. I thought I would be able to suffer intercourse with Old Snakeface that would as soon kill me as look at me.
So, why does the thought of having sex with him bother me even more now? How is that even possible, when possible rape by Snakeface was my starting point? I knew my mind was weird, but honestly … Harry gave a heavy sigh.
What else could help?
To know him a lot better. To know with absolute certainty that he has no plan or wish to hurt or harm me. Yes, that would undoubtedly help. He told me as much, two weeks ago, and would probably tell me again, if I asked. The trouble is to actually believe him; to trust him.
It would also help if I felt attracted to him, more than just like the way he looks …
Why does this bother me now? Why this hang-up? We will have sex once, get it over with, and …
Harry sat up and swore. He didn't think he would enjoy the first time they had sex, that was to consummate the marriage, and far too early in their relationship for his part, but apparently a part of him had decided that the second time they had sex would be better. And that was before Harry even knew if Voldemort wanted to have sex with him, or if he even liked sex. Hell, for all Harry knew, Voldemort might look as much forward to their consummation as Harry himself did; in other words, not at all. Maybe Voldemort was asexual, maybe Harry was anything but his type. For fuck's sake, Harry didn't actually know if Voldemort liked blokes at all. This was a marriage of convenience, after all. Voldemort's convenience.
It was wrong, so wrong, on so many levels, that Harry unconsciously had decided that the second time they had sex would be better by far than the first.
"I will have to talk about sex with the Dark Lord. Yay!" Harry let himself fall back on to sofa again. "Not like I didn't plan that anyway, if I wasn't getting raped," he grumbled and used Accio to get the book he was reading from his bedroom. "I just didn't plan on talking about the opportunity of us having sex more than once. The idea wouldn't be so bad, or so upsetting, if I didn't have it about the fucking Dark Lord. Fucking the Dark Lord. Heh. Oh, shut it, Potter!"
Harry decided it would be best to concentrate on reading, before he completely lost it in a dialogue with himself.
Harry and Voldemort retreated to Harry's rooms as soon as the dinner ended, instead of sitting with Astoria and Draco until it was necessary to leave.
"How do you want to do this, and what are the rules?" Voldemort asked and sat down on the sofa.
Harry sat down on the other end of the same sofa. His nerves were trembling and his heart hammering. But it would be so good not being stiff with rage or fear, so good to escape the pain of the surrender he hated, so good to avoid the fight with himself so he wouldn't attack Voldemort.
Harry swallowed. "I don't remember too much of last time, but I suspect I will both remember more and be able to control myself a bit better, when I know what's happening and when I'm not on the verge of a breakdown. Still … I believe I might not act as I usually would, and I don't want you to use that against me later. I do this because I need a break, having you hold my actions above my head will not help with that. If I truly do or say something stupid, I will apologise and most likely mean it, but …" He stopped.
"I have not held anything regarding the episodes brought on by my soul shard against you, I will not begin to do so now. You have my word."
Harry nodded.
"You were hardly able to focus, the last time," Voldemort said slowly. "How far should I trust what you say? If you tell me that you are fine, should I believe it? If you tell me to do something that I am uncertain if you would want in another situation, should I do that?"
"Damn, that is a good question." Harry closed his eyes and thought back as well as he could. "I … felt differently about things … when it happened. It was quite alright to be close to you, to have you touch me, when I know that it should have been unsettling. Later, and even now, it still feels … off … that it was alright, but it was alright. And the thought of not being close to you, of you not touching me right then …" Harry swallowed. "I'm not sure it makes sense … but that would have been worse," he ended with a pained whisper.
"It was, and it will be, the soul shard that makes sure of that," Voldemort said.
Harry nodded. "Then it does make a kind of sense, then."
"It does. Can you cope with that, both when it happens and later?"
"Yes, I coped with it last time, I can cope with it again. As for if I'm able to give consent when … whatever we call it … happens … Go slow, ask, listen, use your best judgement … I … I don't know anything else that could work better than that. What about you?"
Harry tried not to think about how much he had to trust Voldemort to actually believe he would do that, ask, listen, care, and stop. He had already worked through it as much as he could. He needed a break like he needed air to breathe. If nothing changed, then he soon wouldn't be able to go through those episodes as quietly as he so far had done. And if he began to fight … He really didn't want to know what would happen if he began to fight it, and Voldemort.
He really, really didn't.
Voldemort used a couple of minutes before answering. "No, I cannot think of anything else. I will stop if I notice anything wrong or if you tell me to. Apart from that, I will stop around midnight." He hesitated and met Harry's gaze right on. "I do believe that it would be harder for you this time if I try to leave before the soul shard is entirely satisfied."
Harry remembered how distressing it had been when Voldemort had removed his hand from Harry's face in the Atrium, and how eagerly he had welcomed his touch back later, and swallowed hard. It would be worse this time, because this time the soul shard was completely awake and aware, if he could call it that.
Fuck, what am I doing! He screamed at himself, before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. Earlier this week he had bitten his jaws so hard together during the episode, he had gotten a headache and his jaws had been aching the following day. Just the day before he had fought so hard with himself to lay still in Voldemort's arms, his back and shoulders were aching today. Soon, he would break or strain something even more serious. He couldn't continue like this, he knew that, and even if the episodes might get fewer with time, that didn't help him now.
He needed that damn break!
Harry opened his eyes and looked at Voldemort. "I know." He took a deep breath again. "How do we do this?"
"Send your magic, your power, to me without any set purpose, without forming it with a spell, and I will do the same. If I am correct, that is what did it last time and it should work again."
"Like I would do if I helped with a healing?"
Voldemort blinked at him. Once.
"Like if I am a power well for someone that does a bigger working?" Harry continued.
"You are able to do that?"
"Yes, I mean, sure. Can't anyone with enough power?" Hermione, himself and a few others that were powerful enough, had done that in the war, mostly to heal people or break curses.
"I do not know. I do not know anyone that has tried. But yes, I suspect it will be something like that."
Harry nodded and began to spin out his power just to stop, hesitate and meet Voldemort's gaze again.
"Uhm, I have only ever done this through touch," he said with a low voice.
Voldemort held out his hand, Harry took it and felt his own power flow out of him as well as Voldemort's power flow into him. A circle, a magical circuit. It hit him then, while he looked at their clasped hands. This was something private. Something intimate. Being a power well was a necessity, when it happened. This was …
He met Voldemort's gaze and the worried thought fell away. Calm embraced him. Voldemort looked at him and everything was … calm. Nothing was wrong now. There was no reason to worry, no reason to fret, no reason to rage or howl. Everything was under control, everything was calm. He was safe. Safe from the storm that was his feelings, his memories, his doubt, his regret, his pain and his rage. Safe. Anchored. Through that red gaze. Through that hand on his.
Harry felt himself lean slightly towards Voldemort and knew what would happen next. New what he wanted to happen. Needed to happen. And didn't fear it. Didn't despise it. Voldemort put a careful hand along Harry's jaw and stroked Harry's cheek with his thumb, a gentle gesture that made Harry's eyes close, and then he exhaled in a long, slow breath.
Calm.
Peace.
Safety.
Finally.
Finally.
"Harry?" Voldemort's voice was pure silk and Harry shivered, not ashamed of the feelings that voice wrought in him. He needed that voice, needed that touch, needed this feeling.
"Yes?" He wasn't able to do more than whisper, and he realised he was exhausted, near to collapsing against Voldemort.
"You are crying. Are you experiencing pain?"
"No." The whisper was hoarser now, but while the words were soft and slow, they weren't hard to utter. "Just calm and peace. For the first time I can truly remember. I knew … I knew I was weary. Knew I was used up. Unused to anything but war, pain, and strife, but … I didn't know it was this bad. Even now … I didn't know I was constantly this … anxious. Until right now … when I'm suddenly … not, anymore. I can breathe. For the first time in my life … I can breathe." Voldemort's face was blurred by Harry's tears, but Harry saw the red eyes assess him.
He noticed his body continuing to lean more and more towards Voldemort, and he knew where it would end up, if Voldemort permitted it.
And he didn't care.
"The soul shard's need … it's there," he said and felt Voldemort's fingers hesitate for a moment against his skin, before he continued to stroke him, deliberately, gently. "It wants contact, but it's not painful, not desperate, just very much … there …" He took a deep breath again. "I … the need is there … but it doesn't hurt now, it doesn't make me feel forced or cornered …"
"You seem to me to be quite coherent," Voldemort said slowly, and the silky voice went through Harry like a delicious wave.
"I believe myself to be, just calm and slow with it," Harry stated. "I can breathe. You have no idea how that feels, after so long." He felt himself lean even more towards Voldemort.
"No, I do not," Voldemort murmured. The hand that held Harry's hand slowly let him go and even if Harry's first instinct was to protest, he was calm, and not in pain, and safe and everything was under control, everything would be just fine. The hand landed on his shoulder and slowly inched up to touch his neck. Soon long, cool fingers caressed the back of his neck and Harry breathed and the tears dried up. He met Voldemort's red gaze and held it, gratefully.
Calm. Safe. An anchor in the storm.
He leaned into the touch, leaned into Voldemort. Voldemort moved and slowly moved Harry too, until Harry's forehead rested against Voldemort's shoulder. As soon as he knew that Voldemort was there to take his weight, it was like his body just gave up on holding him up. He melted against the other man and felt him struggle all of two seconds before he held Harry securely, carefully, calmly in his arms, against his own body. One hand was still on Harry's neck, the other stroked soothingly down Harry's back.
"Sorry, didn't mean to do that," Harry muttered into Voldemort's shoulder and noticed that one of his arms had gone around Voldemort's waist. "Didn't know that it would happen either." Voldemort smelled more heavily of cool desert nights, than wild green places this time. Dry sand that still held the warmth of the sun, clean, cool wind and a hint of spices. Harry breathed it in. He could breathe. Really breathe, freely.
"Do not distress yourself about it." The silky voice made him shiver again, and again he simply didn't care. He was in the other man's arms. Their magic was connected. He was held by him, calmly, safely. He held a part of that man's soul. He felt safe, and for right now, he was safe, he was certain.
That was enough.
"What's with the silky voice? Do you even know that you do it?" He recognised that he probably wouldn't have asked that if he wasn't in this situation. "That was a drunken question, by the way. Sorry?"
Voldemort made a small humming sound. Laughter?
"Would you still like an answer?"
"I think so, yes."
"I remember that you mentioned my voice that night we talked about the fact that I made you my Horcrux. You called it silky back then too. In all honesty, I do not know if I do anything different at the times when you would describe my voice as silky. It might be that I do my best in seeming calm and collected. Does it bother you?"
"Not right now, and usually it's just … a bit … weird, to react that way, I mean."
"If it does not bother you, does it please you? No, nevermind answering that, I do not intend to compel answers from you when you are in this condition."
Harry hesitated. "I think I will answer. You already know that I experience something. I find it … weirdly attractive, that voice. Right now, it's more pleasant than it usually is, because usually … all the history between us makes it hard to want to find anything attractive about you. That makes it hard. Also, confusing. I have never seen anyone else react to that voice at all, while I have to try my damnedest not to shiver openly. And it's not a negative kind of shiver, either, even with our history and my confusion. You are not going to hold this over my head later?" Harry wasn't able to worry about it right now, but he did remember that he had tried very hard not to show Voldemort what kind of impact his voice could have on Harry.
"I am not going to do that, I gave you my word. Mayhap we should discuss something else now?"
"Nu-hu, I have amnesty from any consequences right now. I have to make use of the opportunity."
"How very Slytherin of you, Harry." The sudden deep, velvety purr in Voldemort's voice, heavy with both approval and pleasure, combined with his hand brushing a strip of bare skin on Harry's lower back, made hot arousal spike up Harry's spine like lightning. Sudden and painfully desperate. Harry gasped, then moaned and pressed himself toward the other man.
From one moment to the next everything crashed down inside him in a violent riot of feelings and thoughts.
No, no, what happened, what am I doing! No, no, no! This is not … What am I doing! No!
Harry stiffened and tried to sit up. His heart was galloping in his chest, his head was spinning and he was gasping for air. He whimpered and tried to get away from the arms that held him. A careful finger under his jaw made him look up, blinking. The red eyes meeting his gaze was calm, so calm, safe, so very safe, even for him, especially for him?
He was safe.
He had an anchor in the storm.
He was safe.
"It is the soul shard, Harry," Voldemort stated in a voice of pure silk and Harry shivered and closed his eyes. Tears running down his cheeks. Pure relief now. Voldemort stroked his cheek, stroked away his tears with his thumb. "It is the soul shard, and I will never hold anything from these episodes against you." Harry could feel the red eyes on his face, studying him. "Do you want to stop this? If we do it gradually, it might work out better than if your intense feelings rip you out of this state."
Harry shook his head a bit and opened his eyes. "No, I still need this break and it still feels wonderful to actually be able to breathe and relax in this way. Even if … even if I'm not doing it by myself. I'm just … I didn't mean to do that, to react that way."
"I understand, and I wish you would think nothing of it. It was not intentional, I know that. I believe we should move to the bed, before the soul shard makes it hard for you."
"Alright."
It was physically painful to move away from Voldemort now. The soul shard had snuck up on Harry and the need had become strong and insistent. Voldemort slipped an arm around Harry's waist, under his T-shirt, before they moved to the bed. Harry didn't resent the needy feeling now, didn't even want to fight it, on the contrary, he revelled in the feeling of Voldemort's cool skin against his. When they were about to lay down, Harry didn't turn his back to Voldemort as he usually did, to keep as much distance to Voldemort as he could, both mentally and physically. He laid down, chest against chest, with an arm over Voldemort's waist and angled it up his back. Voldemort spread the blankets over them both.
Harry pressed his face against the other man's neck and breathed in his scent again. Even that, even his scent, made him calmer now. One of Voldemort's hands was against Harry's neck, his fingers caressing carefully. The other hand stroked down Harry's bare back in long, slow strokes. Harry held still and just enjoyed the opportunity to relax, enjoyed the feeling of complete calm. Now and again, he would withdraw enough to meet the red eyes that always met his gaze steadily, then he would relax back against Voldemort.
After one such time, Harry said:
"Oh, I didn't even ask if it's alright with you that I'm positioned this way. Should I move? Turn around?"
Not that he wanted to, right now he thought he would prefer to never move again. A part of him knew, even now, that while Voldemort wouldn't take his free will away from him, being able to relax this way could become addictive. He had thought about that possibility right after the Atrium incident. Now, it was all the more likely. He would have to be very careful. He needed breaks like this, needed the rest, the opportunity to breathe, maybe more so now that he knew it was possible, and knew how very tense he always was. It was like a little piece of heaven. If he found that piece in his former enemy's, and current husbands, arms; so be it.
If the war had taught Harry nothing else, it had taught him to be practical, often brutally so.
"No, that is quite alright, Harry," Voldemort's cool, silky voice answered, and Harry sighed.
"You are petting me, have you noticed?" Harry asked after a little while.
"It took a disturbingly long time before I did, but yes, I have noticed. I contemplated stopping, but … I believe that it is not only you that feels some kind of effect from this. Though, yet again, you get the biggest impact. I will stop if you want, or need, me to do so."
"No, I think I would prefer it if you didn't. It's calming. But then again, everything seems calming right now."
"Do you think that you will find that disconcerting later?"
"A bit, probably, but not as much as after the Atrium incident. Then I didn't know what had happened, why or what would happen because of it. This time, I made the decision and know what's happening. And I know that I needed it to happen. The last time my shoulders were this sore …" He stopped; he just couldn't think about the war right now. Or, he could, nothing was stopping him, but still … he just couldn't. He needed peace and calm. "Anyway, it would be good to have a day to recuperate from stiffness and soreness."
"There is a powder you can use in the bathwater to help with that. I will have Dobby put a jar by your tub."
"Thanks. That sudden … withdrawal … from this state, when we were on the couch … That was seriously disturbing, but it did answer my question about whether I can choose to get out of this state, without you doing anything. That was good to know, even if I hope to never do it again." He shuddered. "It was mentally painful, and really confusing."
"I know, it was bad enough that your Occlumency shields fractured a bit and your feelings moved with your magic to me, for a moment. Just a moment, and then you were able to stop it again."
Harry nodded, holding his shield's and strengthening them was second nature to him now. He looked up and into Voldemort's red eyes. Yet again Voldemort looked back with that tolerant calm, and Harry felt safe, calm and taken care of; everything he seldom, if ever, had been before. Voldemort caressed his neck and back and Harry pressed his face against Voldemort's throat again, breathed in, sighed, and felt himself relax even further. Felt himself sink into the mattress and against Voldemort, felt his body become even heavier.
"May I ask a question?" Harry asked. "A probably impolite question? I'm just so bloody curious."
"And I did give you my word that I would hold nothing you say or do during these episodes against you, did I not?"
"Exactly."
Voldemort hummed and Harry was almost certain now that it was a sign of amusement. He had never heard the sound before today. It really did seem like this influenced Voldemort too. It was strangely reassuring to know that; that he wasn't alone in experiencing something that didn't actually originate in himself.
"You may ask, but I do not promise an answer."
"That's fair. We were supposed to find your Horcruxes, but found only one. The locket that you took back. For the rest of them we could only infer, or guess, what they were and where they possibly could be. Now that the Horcruxes are no more, could you tell me what they were and where they were? Also, if you reabsorbed the soul shards in those Horcruxes to become more sane … what about the Horcruxes that you can't reabsorb or keep close to you, those that were destroyed?"
Voldemort was silent for a while before answering. "I ended up making seven Horcruxes, one more than I originally planned. The diary, the ring and the locket you already know off. The first two are the ones that were destroyed. Other than that, my Horcruxes were Helga Hufflepuff's cup, that I had Bellatrix Lestrange keep in her vault at Gringotts, and Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem, that I concealed in the Room of Hidden Things, also known as the Room of Requirement, at Hogwarts. That makes five, you know the last two."
"Bloody hell, Gringotts, really?" Harry huffed. "That's overkill, just so you know. Even now I don't think I'm mental enough to try and rob the goblins!" He gave a hard sigh. "What about the two that got destroyed? What does that do to you now?"
Voldemort hesitated for a long moment. Even that didn't worry Harry now. He was safe. There was nothing to fear.
"I cannot say for certain, but as far as I have been able to ascertain, the soul fragments that were in those Horcruxes have passed on, to somewhere else. Because they have passed on, the place in my soul where the pieces used to be, was able to heal, somewhat. I have been able to do a ritual that lets me see my soul, in a way … Feel my soul might be the better word. I did it after I reabsorbed the three inanimate Horcruxes. There was a distinct difference between the place where the soul shard you hold, once was, and the places the two destroyed Horcruxes were. Think about the difference between a bleeding wound and a wound that has begun to heal.
"I do not know if my soul will ever heal more than it already has, but it is enough to keep me mostly mentally stable. Though, not always as stable as I would wish."
"You seem stable to me," Harry admitted. "Loads more stable than me, anyhow. But then again, that's not at all hard." He snorted.
"I do attempt to be on my best behaviour when you are around," Voldemort confessed. "Having you disturbed by my actions would make the situation needlessly hard, especially when it already is hard enough."
"Oh. Well. I appreciate that … thanks … I think. And thanks for the answers. At least I now know we were screwed anyway, regarding the Horcrux hunt. We couldn't really succeed, not with a Horcrux in bloody Gringotts!"
"Harry …" Voldemort's voice had been calm all along, but now it was back to being silky and Harry shivered.
"I don't like that word … for me … still. I know I am one … one of your … I can talk about the others, even about Nagini, but not about me." It was harder to talk about this than about anything else so far, but even so, it didn't agitate him, not really. And that was exactly the reason why he chose to say this now. At any other time, it would hurt. "Not like that. I think … I believe … it's because it makes me feel so much like a … a thing. And I have been used my entire life. I can't stand the thought of being nothing more than a thing for the rest of my days. I just can't stand it."
"You are not a thing, Harry." Pure, cool silk, waving around him, stroking against his skin and his mind. Voldemort's hand went up into his hair and massaged the back of his head. Harry whimpered in pleasure at the feeling. "You are not a thing, and you will never be a thing. You do hold a fragment of my soul, but that does not make you a thing in my eyes. It makes you precious. I do not wish to use you, anymore than I wish to hurt you, or kill you. My word on that."
"And you do tend to keep your word," Harry said huskily.
"Yes, I do."
Harry became quiet and Voldemort continued to massage, caress, and stroke him.
To Harry's later bewilderment and Voldemort's surprise, Harry fell asleep in the Dark Lord's arms.
A/N:
To everyone that has been waiting for some cuddling between Harry and Voldemort. Hope you liked it!
And also, yes, the chapter where they will consummate the marriage is written. There will be smut. =p Just not quite yet. They need to talk about it and stuff first, as grown adults that doesn't want to kill each other do.
Thank you for the comments, the favs and the follows! They are much appreciated! I love to hear what you think about the story and the characters! It makes writing this story even more fun!
Hope you liked it! Please review!