***Thank you so much for the reviews! Keep them coming! The feeling that what you're writing is actually being read is amazing! / I do not own Harry Potter if I did it would be awesome! I'm not J.K. Rowling if I was I would write more books! I just like borrowing her characters! / ***
Giving in
Chapter 2: Riddle manor
They had apparated to Riddle manor. A manor more luxurious than the Malfoys. 200 rooms in total, a ballroom, a dueling chamber, a library, dungeons, a bunker that was 6 floors under the house, and 2 indoor swimming pools. The manor was never ending. Whatever you could think of, the manor was equipped with it. It looked as if it was bigger on the inside. No one knew of its location, not even Voldemorts most trusted. It was said to be in another dimension. A place between worlds.
Voldemort carried Harry up the winding road that led to the manor. The doors seemed to open before him and he carried Harry through the entrance hall up the staircase to the warded west wing. It was hidden from view behind a painting of Salazar Slytherin. Only a few trusted inner circle members knew of its existence.
Voldemort debated on putting Harry in a guest room but thought better of it and decided to put him in his chambers. He needed the boy to be kept close and under constant watch. Voldemorts private chamber was the most warded part of the entire manor. It would take all of the order including Dumbledore to take down his wards.
His room was hardly luxurious; he liked to keep it simple since he hardly ever slept in his bed. Being immortal messes up your sleeping pattern or so he kept telling himself but in actuality it was because of the stress of being the Dark Lord that kept him from sleeping. All what was in his room was a king size bed, a dresser, a small coffee table and what seemed to be a wizard version of a lazy boy chair by the fire place. His walk in closet was opposite to the door and right next to it was the bathroom. Next to the fireplace was a door that led to his private office. His bedroom was big but simple. He didn't like to have excess things. Only the bare necessities. He placed Harry in his king size bed. Changed Harry's battle clothes into sleeping attire and with the flick of his wand the bed was warmed up and Harry was tucked in. Voldemort left the room as quickly as possible escaping into his office but not without turning around to see the boys sleeping form one last time.
Conjoined to his sleeping quarters was his private office. He spent most of his days locked up in his office doing Dark Lordly Duties. He decided to get a couple of hours of work before the night was out. But he soon found that a glass of firewhiskey was calling his name. It had been one of the longest days of his life. The last hour alone, he felt as if he had aged 50 years. He sat in his big chair at his desk. He drank a few gulps of the firewhiskey and savored the stinging feeling going down his throat. He felt his eyes droop and he thought he would just lay his head to rest for a few minutes.
And that's how he woke up the next morning, with a crank in his neck and papers stuck to his face. He groggily looked at the grandfather clock on the other side of the room. It read 10:30 'ugh!... I haven't slept this much since the Malfoys ball in 79' when Bellatrix tried to drug me and maul me... Ugh and then I passed out in the closet for 6 hours trying to hide from her (he shuddered at the memory) Her screams when I found her in the morning and I woke her with a Cruciartus... Ahhh music to my ears... Wait...Wha-?...' And that's when Voldemort realized that someone was actually screaming. And it was coming from his bedroom...
All at once everything came back to him. The memories of last night hit him and he jumped up, running to his bedroom. Harry Potter... In his bedroom, in his manor! He opened the door and Burst into the room, wand in hand. Harry was screaming but it wasn't because of an attacker it was because he was having a nightmare. He was wrapped in his sheets and drenched in sweat. He was screaming as if his life depended on it, maybe it did... He could not tell. Whatever the boy was dreaming about frightened him to the point of panic.
Voldemort cautiously walked toward the boy and sat next to him on the bed. 'Should I wake him up?' Thought Voldemort. He had never comforted someone from a nightmare before. What was he supposed to do? He decided to let Harry scream it out for a few more seconds. After a minute Voldemort couldn't take it any longer. It pained him to see Harry in so much distress. If he had thought that a week ago he would have thought he was going insane. So what should he do? What could he do?...
*** Too crazy? Was it horrible? I was going to add a few more paragraphs that I actually wrote already but I decided to leave it for the next chapter! I'm EVIL! I know! :) REVIEW! *** -Castlerocks
