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Sirius said over the phone.

"It's going to be about three days, Harry; the Russians want to know what else we can bring to the table."

Harry rubbed his head with a frustrated sigh.

"Give them whatever they want. I don't care what you have to do, Sirius. I want this deal."

Sirius cursed.

"I hear you, Harry. We should've dealt with that Voldemort bastard by now, do you hear me? Don't know why you're holding back. What are we waiting for?"

They were waiting for Harry to come to his senses.

"I have my reasons and I'll share them with you soon. Maybe when you get back."

Sirius was headed to Moscow to meet with the Russians in a last-ditch effort to salvage the deal Voldemort had tanked when he'd tipped the cops off to their shipment of marijuana. Harry didn't know for sure that they could still hold on to the Russians but he had to try. He also wanted Sirius out the way, an unofficial cease-fire, while he figured out a way to have what he wanted with Voldemort.

Because he wanted Lord Voldemort. He wanted him bad. He knew he'd set himself up for a long and hard fall, but Harry didn't know how else to have Voldemort. The truth would kill anything they might have. He wanted some time to show Voldemort what it meant for them to be together before he told him the truth. Maybe by then Voldemort would feel as Harry felt. Stupid. It made no sense, but that was all he had. He asked in an effort to get his mind back on track,

"Who are you taking with you? I want you well protected, you're going on their turf."

"I'm rolling five deep,"

Sirius said.

"Unless I transport all our men to Moscow, I'll remain outgunned, so it doesn't really matter."

Harry wiped a hand over his mouth.

"Watch your back, Sirius, and keep me updated. This isn't a joke."

Sirius's words rumbled in his ear.

"I know that. I'm not trying to attract any unwanted attention. I know how blood-thirsty those guys are."

Harry chuckled.

"Unlike you?"

Sirius joined him in a moment of mirth then he sobered

"Take care of yourself, Harry. I've got some things to handle before I head out."

"Later."

Harry ended the call and sat there, staring at the phone in his hand. Things used to be so cut and dry. Not easy, per se, but he'd known what he was doing all the time. Every step of the way. Right now everything was a jumbled mess of lies and feelings, emotions when he'd thought himself long past that. Need, when he'd thought he was beyond that.

He hadn't heard from Voldemort all day and unlike the man, Harry had no way to contact him. He didn't know if Voldemort was coming to dinner. Past six o'clock and Debra was finishing up whatever it was that smelled so good in the kitchen. Anticipation cramped Harry's belly. Voldemort was complicated and strong and dangerous, and he made Harry feel and want and need. He made him want him, and Harry wasn't going to question it, he wasn't going to hide from it. Caring for Voldemort was suicide, but he'd take it if it meant going back to life without the excitement of Voldemort.

Six turned into seven o'clock. Harry showered and waved goodbye to Debra who didn't say a word, but looked at him with eyes that asked if he'd thought any of this through. She'd been with him since he'd moved in to the condo. She'd seen him when he was just a broken man, wandering around in a hate-filled daze. He'd tried looking for solutions, but every avenue led to one that didn't include Voldemort. Harry rejected them all. Dressed in jeans and a grey t-shirt, he paced the length of his balcony in bare feet. He watched the sun set, watched the sky turn from blue to orange, pink and violet then black, and ignored the churning in his gut and sweat moistening his palms.

He went over their time together at breakfast. The scared look in Voldemort's eyes. What if Harry had sent him running for good? What if Voldemort never showed up again. Voldemort's deep brown eyes blazing with that internal fire seared Harry to the core. What if Harry never got to tell him all the things he was feeling, never gave word to the emotions balled in his throat?

In his office, he tried to do some work, but that didn't last too long. Harry was back pacing, back wondering. Hours and hours. At ten o'clock he watched the news and the drone of the TV lulled him to sleep. When his chin dropped to his chest, Harry made himself walk to his bedroom and plop onto the bed. He hugged the pillow to his face, searching for Voldemort's scent, but it had long faded away. He drifted to sleep, wishing for things he shouldn't.

The sound of his phone startled him awake and he jumped up, gaze darting through the darkened room. He was hearing his phone, but he couldn't see the damn thing anywhere. He leaned over the bed and found it on the floor, dancing with the vibrations. Harry snatched it up and checked the time. 12:53 am.

He answered the Unknown Caller.

"Hello?"

"Mr. Potter."

Harry's heart lurched at that voice, so clear and strong. He swallowed.

"V."

"I'm at your door."

"You are?"

Harry scrambled off the bed, getting all twisted up in the blanket.

"I didn't think you were coming."

Voldemort didn't speak as Harry made his way through the condo and to the front door, but Harry heard him breathing heavily through the phone. He must have taken the stairs again. He pulled open the door.

Voldemort stood on the other side, in a white t-shirt under a black leather jacket and tight black jeans stuffed into a pair of motorcycle boots. He lowered his phone and shoved it into his pockets as Harry stared at him, taking him in. His eyes widened when he saw the big purple bruise on Voldemort's jaw. He finally spoke

"I didn't think I'd come,"

He stepped forward, over the threshold and Harry moved backward, giving him room, making space for Voldemort in more than his house. When Voldemort was all the way inside, he closed the door behind him, and Harry cupped his jaw tenderly with a grimace. Voldemort winched. Harry asked in a low tone.

"What happened?"

Voldemort shook his head.

"Not now. I don't— That's not what I want right now."

His face was shadowed, but Harry made out the lines of stress around his mouth and eyes.

"What do you want, V? Anything,"

He promised.

"Anything and it's yours."

Heat turned Voldemort's eyes a deeper, darker colour.

"I want you to stop calling me V."

He touched Harry, a palm on his chest.

"Not going to happen."

Harry smiled at him.

"What else? Tell me what else you want."

Voldemort's Adam's apple bobbed and he tipped his head back, leaning it against the door. Anguish came and went on his face, in his eyes. Harry wanted to touch him, cover him, protect him, but he needed Voldemort to say the words.

"You."

Voldemort's word seemed to echo inside the dim quietness. His hand fisted in Harry's t-shirt and he pulled Harry forward, onto him. He didn't have to tug hard, Harry was already there with him, on him, body bracketed by Voldemort's thighs.

"You and me."

Voldemort's tongue peeked out, wetting his bottom lip.

"I want us."

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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