Embracing His True Self
Chapter 113
The Apparation caught him a little off-guard, but not overly so, in fact, he was grateful that he had been Apparated away. He didn't want the others to see his breakdown, or at least a Harry Potter version of a breakdown. Which did differ to others, since everyone was different, added to the fact that he was stronger than the normal person. Draco or any of those fellow Pureblood children, if put through what Harry had would likely be in St. Mungo's by now. Only because Draco had, had such a wonderful spoiled life, whereas Harry had been raised this way, and it had hardened him in a way Draco and most of the others could never fathom.
The heat was the first thing that registered in Harry, it was beyond stifling. He didn't even want to be in Tom's hold it was that bad. He untangled himself from Tom and his jaw dropped, as he whirled around, awe spreading across his features. "Are…are we…abroad?"
"Technically," Voldemort replied, pleased with himself, as he watched Harry's reaction. He was rather proud that he had done so well, Harry's emotional shift had changed rapidly. "It is a magical isle that was created by Rionach Steward, a witch, who did this before she settled in America, she built Ilvermorny, adopting children, but never having any of her own. It is suspected she was raised to believe her gift was evil and she didn't want to pass down that…particular ability."
"How do you have it?" Harry asked, closing his eyes, the smell of the salt in the air, the ocean crashing against the rock's way ahead, the pier, the sand beneath his feet, and oh the heat…it was utter bliss. Flicking his wand out he murmured a charm, and his clothes and shoes melted away, leaving behind only a pair of swimming trunks. "Didn't she give it to her adopted children?" opening one of his eyes to peer at Tom, who was stood in his clothes, which were all black.
"She may have," Voldemort confessed, eyeing Harry with a predatory glimmer in his gaze. "I honestly have no idea when it came back to my branch of the family tree. It would require digging and likely asking the goblins."
"Why didn't you bring everyone here and become the Minister of your own magical world?" Harry asked, so utterly bewildered, wiggling his toes into the sand delightedly. He loved the feeling of the sand between his toes and the water washing up onto the beach to submerge his feet. Looking around, it was paradise.
Silence was the answer.
Harry careened around, giving Tom a bewildered look, it wasn't like him at all.
"I was unaware of the estate that I had pending to my name," Voldemort explained blankly. "Everyone assumed that the Slytherin estate was gone, after all, the Gaunts had squandered the money and everything of value by the time my mother was born."
Harry nodded his understanding, "The people around me had no such excuse." And he'd always feel a sense of anger over that.
"I didn't tell a lot of people to whom I was related, but the smarter of my intimate friends figured it out. Orion Black, your godfathers, father, told me about the Gaunts. It wasn't anything I hadn't already deduced by finding everything in the old newspapers." Voldemort replied, moving to copy Harry when he started walking, moving with him. As always drawn to his orbit, and everything he was, whether they were enemies or lovers.
"Then how did you manage to get the money together to fund a war and build your own estate?" Harry asked, glancing briefly perplexed. "And this?" gesturing towards the island they were on.
"I stole, gained from my followers, used their abilities both magical wise and talent in their jobs," Voldemort stated, "It was much later I realized I had such an immense fortune waiting for me, never mind all of this." and the fortune wasn't solely wizarding currency.
"So, why not bring them here? You wouldn't have to answer to anyone." Harry pointed out, cocking his head to the side, stopping moving and standing with his back to the water. Green eyes inquisitively on Tom's honestly curious. Why the hell did he want to fight for magical Britain when he could live here?
"Now where would the fun be in that?" Voldemort asked his bonded entirely too amused. "Truthfully, the island isn't big enough to house more than two hundred people in total."
"That small?" Harry asked, glancing around, quite shocked, the area looked so infinite from where they stood.
"Likely smaller, since we would need room to grow our own produce…and by my reckoning, there would only be enough to last us a month, we'd be eating fish primarily. It would take years for fruit and crops to grow enough to sustain us." Voldemort informed him, "There would be enough room for my marked Death Eaters but not everyone else that supports our cause."
"And you wouldn't be caught dead in here in case it collapses," Harry added dryly.
"That too," Voldemort said without a hint of shame.
Harry turned to look around, "How likely do you think that is?" closing his eyes again, the gentle breeze against his skin. He didn't know how it worked, was it like pocket dimension? Was it something that Muggles could see? sense?
"Unlikely, there would be some sort of warning, a magical backlash, it wouldn't just collapse it would deteriorate, like an approaching tsunami or twister." Voldemort informed him, "This sort of magic isn't my expertise, it never struck me as useful or informative."
"It's a good way to make money," Harry said shrewdly, sweltering, "An exclusively magical area, this heat, able to use magic when you like without having to worry about Muggles…add in stuff they could do, entertainment, man we could make a fortune." He could imagine how much the Malfoy's, the Lestrange's even Severus would pay for this kind of place. "Are there plants and stuff growing here that might be extinct now?"
"Very likely, there hasn't been anyone here for centuries, no human or animals be they prey or predators to trample and kill them." Voldemort agreed, the heat barely affecting him due to his forethought to put a cooling charm on himself. Although, wearing all black in this sun, definitely wasn't ideal. Looking at it with new eyes, seeing what Harry was seeing.
"Sev's going to love it here!" Harry proclaimed, inching closer to the water, so his feet remained immersed as the waves crashed back and forth, the coolness against the heat quite lovely.
"No people, lots of potion ingredients, of course he is," Voldemort barely refrained from rolling his eyes in exasperated amusement.
Harry stopped moving, peeking open an eye, "Can anyone not of Slytherin blood even come here?" he had Slytherin blood, just as Tom did.
"Anyone you won't miss to test it on?" Voldemort asked, a wicked smirk tugging at his lips.
Harry sniggered, "Actually…no," shaking his head. "Not at the moment, you're planning something…what is it?" and it wasn't who to send through the island wards either. No, this musing going on in the background, simmering like a pot on the stove. It was actually rather distracting to Harry, and he just had to know what was going on.
Voldemort wasn't surprised by Harry's question, in fact, he'd expected it sooner. Their bond was unlike anything anyone had ever seen. He wanted to replicate it (to an extent, no Horcruxes) but the magic itself. A marriage bond of a new kind, to always know what your partner felt? It was quite frankly one of the best ways to a good uncomplicated marriage. There was no trying to decipher how they felt, if they needed to be alone you knew to do so. However, for an arranged marriage it likely wasn't suitable, but a compatible match that wanted to be together? That cared for one another? It would definitely work.
"There will be one last battle," Voldemort informed him, "In the Ministry of Magic of all places." That part still baffled him, how on earth did they think it would turn out for them by attacking the Ministry.
Harry didn't need to ask how he found out; his first thought was Luna. So, she had returned from her honeymoon early, honestly one wonders why she'd even gone in the first place. "I guess it was too much to hope for." he grumbled, too much to hope that with the death of the last of the Order that people would stop altogether. A pang of worry shot through him, "She didn't say who was involved, did she?" Remus and Sirius were abroad, yes, but that didn't mean they were ignorant to what was happening here. If they knew Voldemort's real name, then there was every change they could be involved in this one last stand of.
"She did not." Voldemort informed him, having a good idea what he was thinking.
"Did she say when?" Harry asked, there was nothing he could do. He'd planted seeds, spread doubt, made sure they thought of themselves first. Stopped them going through a war for him, he didn't care if they never forgave him for who he chose to love. Although, part of him, a very small part, hoped that they would survive. He liked them, was rather fond of them, they'd helped him, somewhat. He couldn't claim to love them, mostly because he stopped himself, they loved a façade he put up, not the real him.
"A couple of days," Voldemort answered, a disgruntled look passing over his very attractive features.
"What are you thinking?" Harry asked, up to his ankles in water, amazed that Tom could stand the heat.
"Well, the other attack worked quite well in our favour," Voldemort said, with vindictive glee, the two girls (and Dean Tomas he supposed) had given him the excuse he needed in his lap. "Perhaps another one might cement my position." Turning and walking up the beach knowing Harry would follow him.
"Bit risky, we have no idea their actual numbers, and we can't rely on Luna," Harry stated.
"Technically…" Voldemort started.
"Not. Relying. On. Luna." Giving him a gimlet glare at his back.
"Very well," Voldemort sighed dramatically, turning to stare at Harry, with an amused look at the scowl on Harry's face. "However, she has been very prudent with informing us of anything that requires our attention." Which pleased him.
"Sounds like you expected something else from her," Harry pointed out, caught up with Tom, grabbing his hand, interlocking their fingers, "Can you imagine a property here? Just being able to step out onto the beach, or a hotel maybe?"
"Let's just say that she…is a rare soul indeed," Voldemort confessed, "I think besides her, you're the only one who has been unafraid of me." Whereas everyone else was unfailingly terrified of him, even the order members (as brave as they attempted to be, ultimately fled after trying to defy him) even his first Knights (of the Walpurgis) had been terrified of him by the time they were seventeen. He still didn't know what to think of the pair of them, Harry he understood, it was hard to fear death when you wanted it for so long. Luna…the witch was just out of this world, he suspected mentally a lot of the time. Then again, wasn't that always said of witches?
Harry laughed, "Just admit it, you like her."
"That too," Voldemort answered, and with flicks of his wand, he had a green and silver tartan blanket laid out over the sand. With a single stating of a House-elves name, platters popped up all over it.
Harry blinked, giving Tom an amused look, "Are you seriously indulging in a picnic?"
Voldemort arched a brow right back, "One minute you're angry that I'm spending all my time at work…then weirded out when I make time for just us?" he couldn't have it both ways, well, technically both emotions can exist at the same time but that was no matter.
"You figured it out," Harry said, grinning in delight, "Maybe we aren't bad at this as I thought." Plonking himself down, plucking a carrot and dipping it into the sauce before chewing on it. "Mmm, that sauce is lovely." Still slightly dazed at the fact Tom was trying to be romantic.
Neither of them had a romantic bone in their body. Had never seen anyone being remotely romantic in their lives (young teenagers did NOT count it was gross) they were Aromantic for definite. They cared for each other, yes, but romance was foreign to both of them. They were perfectly happy with the relationship they had.
They'd survived this far without any romance and their relationship remained strong. Although, Harry would have preferred Tom's attentions on him more often than he was of late, working in the Ministry. So, sue him Harry had gotten used to being the focus of his attentions, he loved it.
Voldemort chuckled, getting a brush of Harry's passionate thoughts through the bond. "Just what got you riled up?" he could read Harry's mind, well, likely not easily, but that would definitely sour their mood.
Harry smirked at him, arching a brow, "I think you know…" glancing at the water, "Thank you for bringing me here, I've never really been near the water, or anywhere except here, Hogwarts and the Dursleys." Well, the campsite to watch the Quidditch World Cup counted as well, but not enough to be bothered with mentioning it.
"You're welcome," Voldemort replied, joining his partner on the blanket. Making a vow that they would visit other places. "Remind me to take you to all the magical places I visited in my youth. They were places of splendour and the magic I learned there…out of this world."
Harry rolled onto his side, popping his head up with his hand and elbow. "Where did you go?" he questioned, green eyes glittering with the desire to monopolise Tom's time and know everything about him at the same time get it on.
"I travelled for ten years," Voldemort answered, sensing Harry's complete interest in his answers. "I started by heading for France, Italy, then from there I made my way to Greece then through Iraq and Iran Pakistan and then India where I spent the most time. There were quite a few people like myself, but despite that they were highly sought after. I made a significant amount of money in my year there, I was actually tempted to stay, but I hungered to know more magic, to learn more things, they were no longer able to hold my interest."
"You did something and got out of the country before you could be blamed," Harry deduced.
Voldemort snorted, inclining his head, "I regret nothing." Even if he was compromised at the time, which he most definitely was, at that point in time he was three horcruxes in mental damage.
"Where else did you go? What was it like?" Harry asked, eager to know every single little thing, wanted to imagine somewhere that wasn't Britain.
So, Voldemort told him, he spoke for hours upon hours until his voice grew hoarse. Until the artificial sun began to wane, casting an orange/pinkish hue over the water that lapped and slashed the entire time. When it truly got dark, Voldemort and Harry flicked their wands, and balls of light shot into the air. They spent the rest of the night in the sanctuary of the island. They didn't talk about the war, the Ministry or even the people back home. They focused on themselves, reaffirming that they belonged to each other.
Possessively so, judging by the marks that would be clearly and visibly seen on both of them.
It would be the first time that the others had seen the Dark Lord openly marked, but they were neither stupid or brave (depending on the person) enough to say anything.
A/n – Still have no desire to write out smutty scenes…sorry guys *shrugs* It's difficult to believe I used to be able to write it isn't it? I'm hoping very desperately I can gather up even a smidgen of my old ability to write it especially for The Contract 😉 I would like very much to write out Rabastan/Harry but there's plenty of smut on A03 I'm sure you don't need mine added to it if I can't be bothered with it 😊 I genuinely hope that it doesn't let you guys down, honestly, who would have thought (THE THOUGHT) of writing smut could be so exhausting? Lol and yeah, sorry about the short chapter my nephew went missing yesterday and didn't get a chance to write at all (we found him 6/7 hours later) my dogs loved it since I was out looking for him far longer than they usually get walks so there is that me on the other hand? Ugh the worry and my poor feet what a day (and what a start of a bloody week!) but he's fine even if I imagined doing a Homer Simpson on him lol anyway R&R and as always although I've not been saying it as of late, take care xx