With a groan, Harry roused. His head throbbed and his mouth felt parched as if he hadn't drunk any water in weeks. His head rose an inch off the pillow—he couldn't tell whether it was a pillow—and thumped back down. He couldn't seem to get his eyes to open.

Holy Morgana, what the hell did he do last night? His mind was racing. He sighed as he squinted his eyes open, relieved that the room was dark. This wasn't his room, was it? This wasn't his bed, either.

Okay, Harry shouldn't be anxious since if he did have sex, Lord Voldemort would kill anyone who dared to touch him.

He shook the man next to him, who seemed to be someone he knew. "Yes, Harry, it's me," the dark lord grumbled. "Oh thank god," he whispered back, before deciding that waking up wasn't that necessary and returning to bed. The Dark Lord's bed to be precise, he was so bragging about this to Draco. Who knew morning voices were so sexy-

When Harry woke again, he found himself alone in the bed. Which was impolite because he would have preferred the Dark Lord to wake him up, but as he assessed his appearance, he thanked the gods—if there were any—for small mercies.

The fragrance of the place was strong.

It smelled exactly like The Dark Lord, a scent so specific that it had become etched in his mind. It was the finest Hodgen's whisky, with a tiny hint of parchment and sweat, yet it was so appealing.

So he got up and opened what appeared to be a wardrobe, deciding he needed a shower and a change of clothes. Now.

He strolled up to what appeared to be the bathroom and walked in, holding a shirt that smelled like The Dark Lord.

The lord's dark bathroom was unexpectedly bright. The room was big, with a white marble tub in one corner, a shower across from it, and a wide mirror in the middle—presumably to stare at his exquisite face.

He walked over to the counter and placed HIS t-shirt on it, closing the door behind him.

He walked to the shower and tried it out a few times before figuring out how to use it properly and showered.

He's not really to blame for taking a little longer in the shower than usual—just it's that he felt super cool. Why did this man have to have such extravagance in everything he owned?

He cleaned himself and immediately fled the bathroom after putting on his clothing, transforming fresh underwear with the handkerchief he had on him from the night before.

He realized he couldn't leave without saying goodbye, so he walked back over to the bed and sat down again, pondering his options.

He looked around the room with intrigue. He wondered if The Dark Lord had brought anyone else [Read: Bellatrix] here with him.

He'd been thinking about his auntie and Marvalo's apparent closeness. If you had asked him before, he would have answered they were definitely lovers, but now that he was in that character, he could not really say so. Smirk of satisfaction. He wasn't sure.

He didn't want to appear jealous, but he also wanted the man to himself, so he resigned himself to confronting the dark lord and facing the weeks of teasing afterward.

Harry was now reading a book he'd discovered on The Dark Lord's painfully well-organized table, and he smiled faintly as he read the words.

Cassius Selwyn wrote a book about the effects of runes and how to apply them in everyday life. It also described how infusing magic in them extended their longevity.

When Lord Voldemort-Marvalo eventually appeared, he was engrossed in the world of magical theory. "Hello, Darling, I see my books have kept you occupied," he said. As he strode into the room, the Dark Lord whispered.

"Have you had sex with Auntie Bellatrix?" Harry asks curiously. If Harry was being honest, it would be repulsive if he responded yes to Harry's question. He couldn't bear the thought of his maternal aunt being in any kind of sexual situation. Not with his Marvalo, for instance.

The Dark Lord choked and sputtered in disbelief. The nerve of the boy-

"No" he managed to get out before turning away from Harry as if he would do something he might regret

"How did I get here Marvalo?"

"Last night I believe, you got drunk and arrived at my manor. You're quite a talker when you're drunk you know"

Harry hummed pleased

"I'm glad I came to you "

and then Lord Voldemort BLUSHED

Harry wondered if he was living in a dream

After speaking with Lucius, Marvalo expected to find his bed visitor still asleep when he returned to check on him.

Some primal base instinct inside him screamed with joy when he discovered him awake and in his clothes, reading one of his favourite books on his nightstand.

Harry appeared unconcerned, and Voldemort felt compelled to smile. This. It was for this reason that people sought out a spouse. This appeared to be worthwhile. He finally got it.

To keep Harry safe, he'd make irrational judgments as well. He would go to any length to maintain this image in his head for the rest of his life.

"Greetings, Darling I see that my books have kept you occupied, "he remarked, playfully. He hoped Harry likes the book and asked him for the next one as well.

It would give him an excuse to visit Harry

"Have you had sex with Auntie Bellatrix?" Harry inquired nonchalantly.

He coughed in a haphazard fashion. WHAT DID THE BOY SAY?

"No," he said flatly. He couldn't believe Harry's first question was about that. He's hoping the next time it'll be about the book he's reading rather than who he's slept with.

And how could anyone imagine he slept with Bella when they were only friends? No matter how much Bella wanted for it, it was not to be.

"Marvalo, how did I get here?"

My dear, you arrived when you were drunk and told me delightful stories.

"I suppose you got inebriated and came to my manor last night. You're quite the talker when you're drunk, don't you know? " he said.

"I'm glad I came to you"

And Voldemort felt himself turn red.

He understood perfectly well what liking a person so very much you wanted to spend the rest of your life with them felt like and he felt it all for Harry.