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"Burned it to the ground,"

Sirius said via the phone in Harry's ear.

"Next I'm going after the guns."

Harry nodded.

"Take away the source of the money. I want them crippled."

He swung around in his office chair, staring down on the streets of London through the glass wall behind him.

"He's going to retaliate, though. Stay on point."

Lord Voldemort loved danger too much to take this blow meekly. Sirius assured him,

"We're ready,"

Harry spun his chair around again, now facing his desk,

Voldemort's brown eyes appeared in his mind again. Not for the first time. Never for the first time. He fisted a hand. The hand he'd used to beat him like he'd asked. Demanded, really. The man didn't know how to beg.

He could make him. He could teach Voldemort how to beg. Except no, he couldn't. He didn't know what kind of fate had him and Voldemort crossing paths and Voldemort fixating on him, but Harry didn't like it. He didn't trust it. He knew better. He wouldn't go there, which was why he'd forced himself to get into his vehicle and drive off when he felt himself cracking, wanting to touch Voldemort's beautiful tattooed back while he knelt on the ground, looking all needy, making those damned sounds that Harry heard even now.

The carefully crafted control he'd honed was fraying with every appearance that guy made in his life. Voldemort needed to go, he needed to die, for Harry's sanity. And because he wanted London. His palm hurt and he looked down. His fingernails were digging into his flesh, leaving deep half-moon grooves. Sirius asked,

"Are you alright, Harry? Something on your mind?"

Harry shook his head even though Sirius couldn't see.

"Just thinking. I want that problem dealt with, Sirius."

"Haven't made contact with my guy yet, but he'll get it done."

Sirius paused and then asked,

"What's with the rush? Something you want to share?"

Harry would've laughed, except this wasn't anywhere near funny.

"Nothing to share. I want to mitigate the fall out, that's all."

Because there would be fall out. Oh yeah, there would be a hell lot of fall out,

"We're at war, fall out is a given."

Sirius sighed.

"I'm going to reach out to my man again, get him on it as soon as he can. In the meantime, want me to send Cho your way?"

Harry choked.

"Sirius, I don't need that. What the hell?"

Sirius chuckled and hung up before Harry could say anything else.

The phone behind him on his desk beeped,

"Mr. Potter, you have a visitor."

He frowned. He wasn't expecting any clients.

"Who is it?"

"Uh. He says it's Lord Voldemort…weird name…."

Harry's cell phone crashed to the floor, falling from his lap as he jumped to his feet. What the hell? Was there no way to get rid of that bastard? Damn. He opened his mouth, but his office door opened.

"Hello, Mr. Potter."

Harry breathed, reaching for the calm inside him. Deep, deep down. He had to dig to find what usually came so easily to him. He asked as he approached Voldemort,

"Are you stalking me?"

Voldemort was dressed in a pair of tight black jeans and a deep crimson button up shirt. He crossed his arms and leaned a shoulder against the locked door. His dark hair looked immaculate. But there was a certain wildness to him, an edgy restlessness that Harry immediately picked up on.

A self-satisfied smirk crossed Voldemort's face before he spoke,

"You didn't think I'd let you simply walk away, did you?"

He sounded out of breath, eyes wilder than normal.

"How did you know where I work?"

"I'm quite resourceful, Mr. Potter."

He winked.

"Something you'll soon learn about me, no doubt."

Harry didn't want to learn anything more. He didn't put that into words, though. He stood there and eyed Voldemort as his chest rose and fell.

"Have you been running or something?"

He shook his head.

"No. Took the stairs, is all."

Harry blinked,

"We're on the seventeenth floor."

Voldemort's teeth appeared briefly when he grinned.

"I know. I don't do elevators. Last time I rode in one, I got a bullet in the back."

Harry took a step back.

"People try to kill you on the regular?"

Voldemort shrugged.

"What can I say? I just seem to set people off."

Harry nodded slowly,

"Yeah. I can see that about you."

Voldemort went quiet, gaze deep and piercing as he stared at Harry who stared back, more than a little bewildered until he realized he was smiling. Honest to God. Smiling at Lord Voldemort.

He shut it down, immediately bursting that warm little bubble in the middle of his chest. Voldemort's eyes shifted too, regret mixing with the wild hunger there. Something tightened in Harry's chest and he reacted without thinking, backhanding Voldemort. He watched as his head snapped back, slamming into the door. He must've bitten his lip because blood immediately coloured his bottom one red.

It was natural to Harry to reach out and pinch the bleeding lip between thumb and forefinger, hard. Until Voldemort whimpered and his eyes snapped open. Need swam there, shimmering in those pretty brown eyes. Harry hooked his thumb nail in the little cut at the inside of Voldemort's lip, tearing it. Blood dripped down his chin and onto the front of his shirt and Voldemort took the pain, revelled in it with loud whimpers that spiked Harry's blood pressure,

"Tell me what you want."

Voldemort's eyes flashed, defiance even as he rocked his hips and blood dripped.

"I don't—"

"Repeat yourself?"

Harry finished for him. He leaned in closer as he shoved his fingers fully into Voldemort's mouth, blood and all.

"Now that's a shame, because if you want what I'm about to give you, Lord Voldemort, you better start begging."

Check out my other fanfic named "Ensnared". It's actually a Harry Potter Version of "The Beauty and the Beast" Let me know what you guys think. Just follow the link below or visit my profile. Looking forward your feedback

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