Title: Who Wants to Be the Bloody Boy Who Wouldn't Die?
Author: Iskjif
Pairings: Voldemort/Harry (eventually), mild one-sided Severus/Lucius
Warnings: Okay, if you have a problem with my pairings and are still reading this after my warning, well as far as I'm concerned you have no rights…

Summary: Eventual HPLV. After the events of OotP Harry is apathetic and disillusioned. The Dursley's escalating abuse only serves to alienate him further. When Voldemort's followers come for him, the idea of torture isn't too unpleasant when it's at the hands of those who don't pretend to care.

A/N: Allo my dears! Since I made you all wait so long for chappie 4, I decided to do a double update. Enjoy it because it's not gonna happen too often… I hope you guys like this chappie! Sorry if there are any mistakes… I can't find my book and it's too late to talk to my beta…

OoToO

Death Eaters were a paranoid bunch.

Harry supposed that it was their training. Most of the day had been spent with Severus and Lucius apparating him from place. He couldn't tell if it was done to keep him from knowing where he was or to keep someone from following them. Which ever it was, he mused, it didn't really matter, he was hopelessly lost and surely no one who had been following them could have kept track of the three wizards.

The boy supposed that he was probably going to his death, but he could not rouse any outrage or sadness no matter how hard he tried. All he felt was a deep weariness. Truly anything was better than the way things had been, deserted and betrayed by his 'friends', beaten and starved by his 'family'. Something Dumbledore had said once about death and an ordered mind, sprang to mind but was quickly squashed.

Dumbledore's betrayal had truly been the worst. Harry had trusted no one as he had that old man. He knew that surely the Headmaster of Hogwarts had known of his abuse, the man had addressed his first Hogwarts letter to the cupboard under the stairs… Anyone who wasn't a fool would surely have seen those living arrangements as indications of abuse. And yet Dumbledore had sent him back to the Dursley's year after year… Even if the knowledge of the abuse had been the man's only betrayal, Harry would never have forgiven him.

Harry wondered briefly if this was how Voldemort had felt about Dumbledore when he was younger.

He was jarred from his thoughts when Severus squeezed his hand for his attention and stated stoically that they had arrived.

The boy was surprised that he didn't recognize the manor that rose before them. He had expected Voldemort's base of operations to be Riddle Manor in Little Hangleton. But really, when he thought about it, it made more sense for the Dark Lord to have a base that wasn't as easy to find as Riddle Manor.

The three wizards tromped across the grounds and into the manor. To Harry's further surprise, he was not seized by a terrible fear as he had anticipated upon his entry into the building. He had thought that his impending death would have been a more terrible thing once he had arrived at Voldemort's lair and he supposed it would have definitely been worse had it been Riddle Manor, but it was not. As it was, he looked around with slight interest at the design of the place.

Harry trudged along behind Lucius, holding Severus' hand. He had not let go of the man's hand since he had left the house and he was grateful that Severus had not made to let go either. Despite his strange lack of alarm, Harry was glad for the comforting gesture. He wasn't quite sure what all had led to the Potions Master to his change of opinion where Harry was concerned, but he speculated that the two Death Eaters had watched the house for a while and that Harry's situation had reached the man.

It was strange but he was sure now that Severus was just as loyal a Death Eater as Lucius or even Bellatrix, and yet he didn't think any less of him. Maybe being rescued had cancelled out the feeling of betrayal that should have occurred. But no, cancelled out wasn't quite right… Harry found that he was beginning to like Severus and appreciate the comfort he offered.

Harry's time to think on the confusion of his feelings was cut off when they all came to a stop in front of two large, ornate doors. Before the boy could fully react to this, Lucius flung open the doors.

The room was full of Death Eaters and at the other end of the room, seated on a raised area, was Voldemort.

The Dark Lord's appearance was… surprising… He now looked more like the Tom Riddle Harry had fought in his second year. His appearance was that of an attractive twenty-five year old. His hair was dark and thick and his skin was pale, but not as starkly white as it had been the last time Harry had seen him. Even with his voluminous robes and the way he seemed sprawled in his chair, his build was clear. He was slim, but probably well muscled.

Harry hung his head so that his blush would be missed and felt those bloody, crimson eyes boring into the top of his head.

He felt Severus tug on his arm and so he moved forward. The boy shuffled along towards his fiercest enemy and what was most certainly going to be a rather painful death, feeling only a mild, morbid curiosity, but mostly he just felt numb. It felt like an eternity before they finally came to a stop. He kept his head down waiting for whatever pain there would be. Severus kept a loose hold on his hand and he was grateful for that.

The boy stood there like that, feeling that powerful gaze on the top of his head and wondered what Voldemort was playing at. After several minutes of that, Harry could take it no more. He glanced up at Voldemort in what was meant to be a quick glance, but when their eyes met he couldn't look away.

He felt that he could be lost in those deep ruby eyes. The held such power and knowledge. He was mesmerized by their depth and darkness. Harry felt that he should just give in, throw himself on the Dark Lord's mercy and he would be safe. Had he been less enthralled he would have laughed outright at the idea of giving in or that Voldemort even had mercy. The boy lost himself in the dark gaze and a millennia could have passed before Voldemort had broken the contact, for all Harry knew.

Voldemort and Lucius began conversing, most likely about the current situation and why he looked as he did. Harry looked down at the ground again in confusion. What had just happened?

Harry tried to puzzle out his even more tangled emotions in vain until he was interrupted by Severus' speaking.

"My Lord, I must ask you not to harm this boy… I don't believe that he will be much of a danger to us as he is…"

The boy in question looked up quickly in shock. Why would Severus risk his life for him like that? Surely speaking to Voldemort that way could only lead to death. Harry looked up at Voldemort, this time with fear. He couldn't let Severus die for him!

To his great shock, Voldemort smirked.

"You need not worry that I will kill the boy, as I am sure that is what you are referring to. He clearly has no fear of that. Where would the satisfaction be in killing him when he is so ready for death?" The Dark Lord purred in a tone that spoke of his disdain of the man's request.

Harry shivered and he assured himself that it had been caused by the cold cruelty, which was a tangible force in the air.

Voldemort smiled sweetly, but the expression was betrayed by the dark glee in his eyes which was obviously in response to Harry's reaction.

"So my dear Severus, what you recommend be done to start Mister Potter's recovery?" He said with a feigned sweetness so sweet, that it burned like acid.

Harry noted that Severus looked visibly shaken. So this must be a tact that the Dark Lord did not use often. The boy thought absently. The Potions Master responded quickly, obviously not wishing to press his luck any further.

"I would suggest rest my Lord" he said nervously

Voldemort smirked, seemingly amused by Severus' discomfort. Moments later a cowering female House elf appeared with a crack next to the Dark Lord. He addressed her softly.

"Take this boy to get some rest. When he wakes attend to his needs."

The elf nodded and bowed a little curtsy. She then grabbed Harry by the hand and dragged him from the room. He was nervous leaving Severus behind but he was sure the man would take care of himself.

As the elf dragged him through a seemingly random maze of hallways, he realized that he didn't know the little elf's name. If she was to take care of him, he might as well learn that much. Harry guessed that she was probably very flighty, and so he addressed her softly as Voldemort had.

"Hey my name is Harry, can you tell me yours?"

She stopped short and gazed at him in surprise. She spoke cautiously and quietly in answer.

"Shimi is what I is being called, sir." She then began dragging him down the hall and Harry knew that he would not get anymore out of her.

When they finally arrived at their destination, Harry was amazed. He had expected a room not much better than a dungeon cell, but he now found himself in a lovely suite with several rooms. There was a small library, a sitting room, a bedroom, and an extremely large bathroom.

Harry itched to use the enormous bath but his fatigue and Shimi's urgings finally overwhelmed him and he climbed into the huge bed.

When he awoke, Shimi was there waiting for him with what seemed to be a feast to his eyes. He tucked in with enthusiasm but was careful not to eat too much. He knew better than to feast when he was starving. Harry had Shimi draw him a bath and he gratefully took his time. He had never been able to take baths so soothing at the Dursley's and he cherished the time.

After his bath he checked out the library. He gathered up several books and began reading through them. Harry read until his back started cramping from being hunched over for hours and he could hardly read five words without a jaw-cracking yawn.

He finally gave in to his body and put the books back where he had gotten them. He then stretched, arching his back and rubbing the angry muscles. He proceeded to exit the library and walk to the bedroom. Upon his arrival he realized that he was not the only one to enter the room.

Voldemort had entered from the direction of the bathroom.

Shirtless.

Harry hardly knew whether to be embarrassed, outraged, or fearful. It ended up as a mixture of outrage and embarrassment.

"W-what are you doing here!" Harry was proud that his voice only shook a bit.

Voldemort raised an eyebrow.

"This is my room, why wouldn't I be here?" he said in bemusement.

Harry paled slightly, momentarily speechless and trying to look anywhere but the Dark Lord's naked torso.

After a moment, he shouted out, "Well I'm not sleeping on the floor!"

Voldemort looked completely unruffled, "It's my bed if you have a problem then you sleep on the floor."

Harry gaped like a suffocating fish and Voldemort snickered. The boy glared at the Dark Lord and huffed.

"Fine!" The boy who lived sent one more glare in Voldemort's direction before flopping down on the bed and throwing himself under the covers.

The Dark Lord smirked and slipped into the bed. They both lay as far away from the other as possible without falling off the bed. Harry's embarrassment fell on him in full force and he had to turn away quickly so Voldemort wouldn't see his blush.

Just as Harry was thinking that it would be impossible to fall asleep, he drifted off.

OoToO

A/N: Well there you go! Chapter 5! I hope that Harry wasn't too OOC, this was a really weird situation to write him in… well anyways… hope you enjoyed it! blows a kiss