A/N: Thank you so much for all your comments! I am sorry for the long delay but this story was meant to be a one shot that grew and I have not quite figured out how the story line will unfold. But a short chapter to fill the time

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"How in depth control do you have over these bracelets?"

Harry blinked in confusion as the question came without any preamble. Voldemort had been reading quietly on the floor by the fire while Harry had been working at the table. Voldemort had become bolder during the last three months and was now more likely to start a conversation or ask questions. Not that Harry minded, as long as Voldemort also knew that no meant no when Harry did not want to discuss some aspects of his life. It was usual his position as Master of Death that interested the man and if allowed then Voldemort would probably have spent the whole day asking questions.

One of the things Harry had come to learn about Voldemort during the time he had kept the man captive was that the man loved learning. Most of the books he picked from the library were heavy tombs that Harry wouldn't have touched unless he was forced.

He leaned back in the chair and thought about how much he wanted to reveal. "What do you mean?" he asked, buying himself time to consider that question.

Voldemort gestured with his hand. "Do they simply block my magic as a whole or could you, in theory, allow me access to parts of my magic, but not all? And the wards, are they connected to the bracelets or are they two separate measures?"

Harry could feel his lips twitch. "Are you considering cutting off your hands to escape, pet? In which case I will make those bracelets into a collar and put it around your neck." Voldemort would need to cut off both his hands to get rid of the bracelets and as such the act would kill him, but Harry wouldn't put it past the man to entertain the idea.

Voldemort glared at him until Harry lifted an eyebrow and gave him a warning look. The man dropped his eyes to the floor, but the irritation was easy to spot in the tense shoulders.

"They are made from the same strain of magic, but they work separately. Cast a tempus, " he ordered and concentrated on his connection to the bracelets.

Voldemort looked back up, surprise and wariness warring on his face. Slowly he lifted his hand and twisted it. Harry could feel him trying to access his magic and through the connection he allowed it. The number fluttered over Voldemort's hand for a moment before the man canceled the spell. Voldemort looked away and Harry caught the look of pure longing that he was trying to wipe off his face.

Harry turned his attention back to his work and sighed. There was still too much to do.

"Where do your friends think you go when you come here?" The careful, blank mask was back on his face.

"To a secret getaway to rest," Harry answered without looking up. "Now, go back to your book so that I can finish this. I'll take you out for a walk afterwards."

Voldemort visibly bristled. "I'm not a dog that you need to take out for walks," he sneered.

Harry lifted his head. "Careful now, pet, or I'll find both the collar and a leash and take you out for a walk." That threat made Voldemort shut his mouth and lower his head. Harry frowned. Perhaps he had been too lenient the last half a year considering the attitude he seemed to have adopted lately. He had half a mind to actually go through with this threat simply to make a point, but decided against it.

It had been a long time since he last had been forced to banish Voldemort to the basement for bad behavior. It had also been a long time since he had properly punished the man. The last six months had gone by in a semi-balance of peace and Voldemort had managed to behave. There still had been occasions where he had overstepped but small corrections had been enough to discourage such behavior.

"Can you add to the fire?" Harry asked absenmently as he noticed the fire was starting to go out.

"Yes, sir."

Harry concealed his smile at the underlying anger and irritation that Voldemort didn't even try to leave out. He remembered when he had told Voldemort that he was responsible for keeping the rooms he had access to clean. Harry had provided the necessary utilities but it had taken a couple of rounds with the cruciatus curse before Voldemort had given in and taken Harry's order as what it was - an order. With a sigh Harry concluded that there was no way he was going to finish his work. He kept getting distracted by his own thoughts and by Voldemort.

Standing, he gestured towards the man. "Come on, let's go." Perhaps some air would do good. Voldemort followed him out through the door. As usual he hesitated before crossing the wardline. Harry was used to it and considering how much it hurt if Voldemort tried to cross the line he could understand why the man was careful.

Harry picked a light jacket from the wardrobe in the hallway. It was summer, but the temperature had been dropping the last couple of days. Turning around, he handed Voldemort his jacket that Harry had bought him. "What about a trip to the village?" He asked as they stepped outside. The wind had picked up it seemed and Harry closed his jacket, lifting the collar.

Voldemort fell into step beside him as they walked down the path to get clear of the wards in order for Harry to apparate them.

They landed in the back alley Harry normally used. As they walked out they both stopped short. Apparently the village was having some sort of local funfair because there were people all over the place. The main street had been closed for traffic and there were now a whole lot of small stands that were offering foods or trinkets. There were some carousels for the children and Harry could see that some of the stands offered games where you could win stuffed animals.

Beside him Voldemort blinked. He looked like he was having problems comprehending just what he was looking at. Harry grinned. This could be interesting.

He extended the proximity spell he used on Voldemort whenever they were out to make sure Voldemort would have enough room to navigate through the crowd.

"Come on," Harry said and ignored the muttered "Do I have to?" behind him. He could hear Voldemort sigh before he followed.

They explored the fun fair for some time although Harry was probably more excited than Voldemort who looked like he would rather be tortured. Perhaps this was more of a punishment for the man than anything else.

"Lighten up, Tom," Harry said as he bent over yet another stand looking at the locally produced headbands. It was a long time until Christmas but there was no reason to leave the present shopping until the very end. He picked out three that were wrapped and handed over. As he turned around he saw that Voldemort had noticed the rather large stand with old books. Harry smiled. Of course, books, the one thing that was bound to catch the man's interest.

He walked over and picked up one of the books. It was a french one and the title made absolutely no sense to Harry. Voldemort bent over another table and started shuffling through the books. After a while he picked up one and opened it. He put it down before walking over to another table.

Harry walked across the road to look at a stand that was selling sweets. Ron loved to try out muggle candy that he had not seen before. Turning back he noticed that Voldemort was once more engrossed in a book. "Do you want it?" Harry asked as he crossed back over.

Voldemort's head came up and his eyes narrowed. "It depends on what you will demand in return."

The voice was ice cold, but he didn't manage to conceal the look of want in his eyes at the offer to buy him the book. Harry considered it. He stepped closer to avoid being overheard. "An improvement in your manners would be enough for a couple of books," he said, letting his voice take on a threatening tone. "I have half a mind to punish you anyway." He did, regardless of any improvement in manners his suggestion might invoke.

Fear flashed through the brown eyes to Harry's satisfaction. Voldemort seemed to give in because his shoulders slumped slightly and when he looked back up, Harry could see something that reminded him of desperation or defeat. "I would like the book," Voldemort admitted in a quiet tone. It looked like it was painful for him to admit that much.

Harry didn't believe the submissive act for one second but that was alright. He was not going to be fooled into thinking Voldemort was in any way broken. He was beaten down a couple of notches but he was far from broken. If Harry had wanted to break him then he should never have allowed him upstairs in the first place.

This was just Voldemort trying to manipulate the situation to get something he wanted. As always. Well, at least he was consistent that way.

"You can pick three," Harry said before he could catch himself. That was perhaps a bit over the top but perhaps he could encourage good behavior through positive reinforcement rather than negative.

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Apparently giving Voldemort any leeway was bound to backfire pretty quickly. His manners did improve however just after the funfair, but as the weeks passed, Harry started noticing the small liberties Voldemort was starting to take and he was reminded about the old saying; If you give an inch he will take your arm.

He came back one evening to find Voldemort on the couch, which the man knew he was banned from. But, as he had slipped off it and knelt not long after Harry entered the room, Harry had decided to let the matter drop.

After accidently calling Harry by his name in the house, and not getting punished for it, Voldemort had started to do so more often.

When it reached a point where Voldemort simply gave a nod and a bow when Harry arrived, Harry realized that he was slowly losing control over the situation. For all that he knew he still was in control when it came to power, the way things were developing was not acceptable.

He put down his cloak and tried to reign in his anger. "Kneel," he said, crossing his arms over his chest as he turned around.

Voldemort opened his mouth but Harry beat him to it and fixed him with a hard look. "No, no excuses, no protests. Kneel." For the love of Merlin. Having Voldemort around was a full time job when it came to making sure he stayed on top in their twisted little relationship.

Voldemort didn't move other than to cross his arms over his chest.

Really? Harry thought. Did the man have a selective memory? Then it hit him. Of course. Voldemort was testing the waters. He was trying to figure out if any of his manipulations had worked even the slightest. If Harry saw him differently after all their walks and outings. If Harry gave the order a third time then Voldemort would take that as a sign of weakness which would most likely make him try to defy other orders.

" Crucio ". The slight surprise on Voldemort's face was surprisingly wonderful the second it lasted before he crumbled to the floor. He managed to keep silent for a while before he groaned and then screamed out as Harry put more of his power into the spell. Harry held it as long as he dared before releasing it.

Voldemort was panting on the floor. His cheek wet with tears that he had probably not meant to shed. His hair was a mess, as was his robes. His face was flushed and for a moment Harry wondered if he might have overdone it. Voldemort coughed and blood splattered over the floor. He heaved a couple of deep breaths before coughing again.

Harry waited. Seconds and minutes ticked by until Voldemort was breathing normally again. He blinked and lifted a hand to clear away the tears. The hand was shaking so badly that Harry was afraid he was going to poke himself in the eye for a moment, but he managed to drag a hand over his face, removing some of the evidence of tears.

" Crucio. " This time Voldemort screamed as he twisted on the floor. Curling and uncurling as the spell and pain held him tight. He turned again and this time he smashed his right wrist into the floor with such force that Harry wondered if it might have sprained.

His screams echoed off the walls as Harry tried to judge just how long was too long to keep someone under the curse. It was not like he had a lot of practice with the curse, other than the times he had used it one the man currently sprawled on the floor. He ended the spell once more and sat down in one of the armchairs before extending his hand and summoning a book he had left on the side table beside the couch.

By the time he had finished a chapter, Voldemort started to stir on the floor. His arms shook as he tried to push himself into a sitting position, only to fall back down twice. Harry stopped reading and watched him struggle to sit up. A part of him was still irritated and he had half a mind to shove Voldemort back down in the cell for a couple of months.

A couple of tries later, Voldemort was half kneeling, half sitting in front of Harry. "There, that wasn't so hard now, was it?" Harry asked, sarcasme dripping from his tone.

Voldemort's arms shook and for a moment Harry expected him to fall down once more.

Harry put the book away and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. After watching Voldemort's bent head for a little while he reached out and wove his hand into the black hair. Pulling, he brought Voldemort's head back. "One would think you would learn after a couple of years, but apparently not."

Voldemort tried to move backwards, away, but Harry kept him still with the hand in his hair. "You know," he began slowly, "I could cripple you, render your legs useless and force you to crawl if you want to get somewhere." He moved his wand into sight. "It would not be difficult. It does not matter to me whether or not you can walk."

The widening of Voldemort's eyes told Harry that it mattered very much to Voldemort whether or not he could walk. "Don't, " he rasped out, his voice sounding like sandpaper.

Harry let go off his hair and watched the man scoot a couple of feet away. He groaned and hissed in pain as he put weight on his right arm to move backwards. Ah, Harry thought, apparently the man had damaged his arm during everything, but that could wait. First they were long overdue for another conversation.

"Why not?" Harry demanded, letting the irritation and anger into his voice. "You continually disobey me. You force me to put you in your place so that you don't take mine. I don't want to break you, but trust me, pet, I will if that is what's necessary. I don't care that you are researching ways to escape, or that you are plotting and planning. You can keep doing that to your heart's content. But, that does not change the reality. You are min, subjected to my rules and restrictions." The last part had not been something he had planned.

He had planned to torture and kill the man. Keeping him had not even crossed his mind, but then again he was not a cold blooded killer. Seeing Voldemort in his much more human form, not to mention a young one, had made him realize that Voldemort was just that, human. Not a good one, but still a person. What right did Harry have to put him down like some rabid dog when he could keep the man in a controlled environment? Not to mention that Voldemort did not want to die.

He took a deep breath before continuing. "By rights you should have been dead. I should have killed you, not kept you alive. I still should kill you but I find myself in a position where I do not want to do so. Not because of any manipulations on your side, but simply because I can keep you here, alive and unable to hurt anyone. Why kill a threat that can be contained? Unless, of course, you want to die, but that concept terrifies you."

Voldemort was staring at him, his brown eyes wary.

"I thought so," Harry continued. "I could have kept you in the cell downstairs and kept torturing you. I still might. However I have given you the chance at something better. Yes, it is still a cage, a golden one that comes with conditions. However as long as you do obey it can be improved. I was planning on giving you the range of the whole house as well as the garden. I would even be open to allowing you to go to the village yourself. Now however. You keep trying and pushing. Looking for an angle - some way to manipulate me or to get free. Why should I keep giving you chances that I know you will fail?"

He sighed. Perhaps this conversation was more one he should have had with himself. He caught Voldemort's eyes as he continued.

"I'll give you three choices and you can choose your own fate because I'm tired of your schemes and subtle manipulations, plans and ideas. I can kill you if you want. I can return you to the cell one last time and keep you there, or you can stay here. If you chose the last option then this is your last chance. If you deliberately disobey me again then I will lose my patience and lock you in the cell downstairs. What will it be?"