Harry drew a deep breath. He hadn't expected Voldemort to follow him. fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck So, what should he do now? He hadn't devised a strategy. What type of Slytherin did he happen to be? How is he going to escape from the clutches of the most powerful dark lord?
Does he even want to do so?
Harry rushes when he sees a sudden movement around the corner; he's nearly sprinting at this point, but he can't seem to stop his feet. He's now dismissing even more corridors. He had no idea how enormous the manor was until now. It now seemed to go on endlessly.
He loses track of where he is as he wanders down more hallways. All of the portraits appear to be unfamiliar. He simply can't stop himself yet again. He's on the run right now. When his father found out, he would be furious.
When the footsteps are no longer heard, he jerks to a halt. He's in excellent shape. He sits down on one of the beautiful desks that line the corridor, exhaling a sigh of relaxation.
He pushes the flower vase aside. and cleans the desk before climbing on top of it. All he needs to do now is wait for Voldemort to leave and then return to his bedroom. Down these never-ending corridors somewhere.
He discards his outer robe. This section of the mansion appears to be largely untouched. He stares at the dust-covered flooring and almost falls from his perch when he hears a quiet voice say "oh harry," and he quickly turns to see the source of the sound.
The only thing that surrounds him now is darkness. He takes his wand from his robe, which he had just taken off.
His breathing becomes shallower, and terror rises in his chest. He knows it's futile, yet he can't seem to stop the anxiety from mounting. Mother assured him that he would never have to return, and she has never told him anything but the truth.
Another murmur came from behind him: "harry." Oh, this was a terrible idea.
"My lord?" he whispers into the darkness.
He's terrified now. Puffs of air are flowing out of his mouth. Something is attempting to seize his power. He believes the feel of the magic is familiar, but he is certain it is Mrs. Bennette. Perhaps he's simply tired. That would explain all of this.
He's already searching around frantically. He understands that the woman could not possibly be there. But a soft voice in his head tells him that his parents were lying all along and that they'd grown tired. No one could possibly love him. It wasn't fair to the freaks but when had life ever been.
To get away from the voice, Harry dashes down the passage and slams right into Lord Voldemort.
"There you are"
But he's too terrified to contemplate whatever hatred he could have for the dark lord; all he can think about is the orphanage. He sobbed as he grabbed the tall man's collar.
"there – a someone, Mrs bennet. I don't wanna go back. Promise me I won't go back"
At this moment, he's babbling nonsense, and Voldemort is confused. He knew it was a horrible idea to flee the man, but this was the stuff of nightmares. He's weeping even harder now, and he's still clutching the robes tightly in his hands. He can smell the dark lord's oil and his excellent fragrance. Before he realises what he's doing, he takes another sniff.
Lord Voldemort now appears worried, but he gently slips down onto the floor, Harry clutching his hand for dear life. He's still crying, but Lord Voldemort's hands are uncomfortably hovering on top of him. All he can feel is Voldemort's heartbeat; he wasn't sure he had one at first, but now he thinks he has, and he feels the soothing warmth of his power wash over him.
He had no idea why Lord Voldemort felt so familiar to him, but he didn't care right now. He felt the might dark lord whisper something and softly pet his hair as he drifted off. He smiled as he relaxed into the contact. He curls up on his lap, weary from his brief fear, and chooses to take a nap, gently thanking the man.
He hadn't expected the little minx to be so swift on his feet when he started chasing him. Every phrase had eluded him. Now that he's finally
consented to talk with him and ask for his hand in courtship, now that Harry was of consenting age. Yet Harry was attempting to flee. He'd never encountered somebody so perplexing before.
Harry was a strange creature, and he was rather intriguing in his own right. So he followed Harry down Malfoy Manor's many twisting corridors. He had no idea how massive the structure was in its entirety. The dust on the flooring increased as he progressed along these corridors. He was struck by how unkempt this area of the estate was.
He also felt a powerful tug forward, which he assumed was the object he'd handed Lucius to keep safe. excellent. He'd taken his vow seriously and encased it in powerful wards that Lord Voldemort would find difficult to dismantle.
He drew out his wand, ready for an assault or any intruder who had managed to overcome the wards and was frightening harry, after hearing harry quietly scream out for him and hearing the boy's ragged heavy breathing.
He walked right into the boy, who clung to his robes and began crying. Lord Voldemort was a master of his emotions, therefore he didn't push Harry away from his body right away. Harry clutched him like a lifeline, sobbing uncontrollably.
Lord Voldemort had been through a lot in his life, but no one had ever dared to cling to him and sob their heart out. This was, without a doubt, a new experience. As Harry murmured about promises and not going back there, Voldemort stood uncomfortable and unstable. This would need to be examined upon, but at a later date.
As Harry flung his entire body weight upon him, he couldn't stand. He was strong enough to pick up the boy and cradle him, but the dark lord's stance made it impossible for him to stand up.
So he slumped to the floor, his back to the wall, and Harry clutched to him, crying his throat dry. His hand lingered awkwardly above Harry, wondering if he wanted to do this or not. When he placed his palm on Harry's head, though, his cries subsided and he nestled into his broad chest. He smelled him once, which was strange, but he opted not to dwell on it in favour of seeing a faint smile appear on Harry's lovely face.
He finally realised what had transpired. This kid had cuddled up to Lord Voldemort, Britain's most powerful wizard, and then dozed off. He would have tossed them off and cursed them to hell and back if it had been anyone else. This boy, on the other hand, sat in his lap, curled up like Nagini, and slept happily. He put his trust in the dark lord to keep a watch on him as he slept. Voldemort grinned briefly before scowling. but then grinned once more When Harry awoke, there would be so many possibilities to tease him.
He had expected more than snuggling when he followed Harry, but he figured that would suffice for the time being. As harry wraps his arms around his waist, he thinks to himself, Yes, this will suffice quiet well for now