"Oh good, you figured it out," the dark lord said humorously. The way he said it was quite condescending, not that Harry noticed through his shock though.

"What do you wan?" Harry gasped, forgetting Voldemort had already answered the question not more then moments ago.

Voldemort laughed and got out of bed. "I already answered that one Harry," he said as he walked to his armoire. He pulled out a robe for himself and slipped it on. He turned to throw robes, pants and a shirt at Harry. "You may wear those after you've bathed. You've probably noticed the blood has been cleaned, but a nice bath will do you good." He clicked his fingers and a house elf appeared. It curtsied to Voldemort and waited for orders. The dark lord told it to draw a bath for Harry and get a small luncheon ready. It diapered, presumably to run the bath and Voldemort turned to Harry.

Harry was staring at him with wide eyes and slightly parted mouth, he was to say very shocked. "What in Merlin's balls in going on?" asked Harry rudely, getting over his shock slightly.

"Language Harry, language. I am saving you Harry. Just as you requested," was the reply he received.

"But you're trying to kill me," said Harry earnestly. "What's wrong with that plan? What are you going to do anyways? Save me, heal me, turn around and kill me?"

"I've decided that that plan was faulty, I no longer want to demolish your being." Voldemort said, "Now come take your bath, if you wait to long too long it will chill."

Harry slide out of bed slowly, still not trusting the Dark lord in front of him. He pulled the bundled of clothes Voldemort had thrown at him close to his chest, like he could save them from something. His head looked around the room, not finding a door. He turned to look at the other man who was staring at him expectantly.

"Err… where's the bathroom? There aren't any doors," he asked softly trying hard to keep his cynical nature in check.

Voldemort face was one of disbelief, and then remembered the boy grew up with muggles, like him. "The door will appear any where you want it too. Walk towards the wall thinking of a door and it will spring open."

He watched as the boy turned to the right and observed the mahogany covered wall. He glanced over at Voldemort once, he nodded at the boy. He knew this was a test. If he'd told the truth a door would open and Harry would tryst him, to a certain extent. If he'd lied and there was no door Harry would never trust him and wouldn't join him.

Luckily for him a door popped open and allowed entrance to the boy. The boy walked through, and then manually closed it leaving Voldemort in his own room to await him.

Harry stood and looked at the nicely decorated bathroom. It was done in marble. Two white sinks stood on the right wall with a large extravagant mirror above them. On the left there was a toilet carved in black and while marble. But the most noticeable piece in the room was the large bath facing the door, but placed in the back of the room. It was dug into the floor made up of black marble; black and white seemed to be a theme here. The sides where lined with some type of soft material.

The bath was already dull of hot water and bubbles. Two black fluffy towels rested next to several bottles of shampoo, conditioner, soap shower gel and the likes. He signed knowing he'd do as told and take a bath. He de-robed and slowly lowered his body into the bath. He marvelled, the temperature was perfect, as was the water level. He could sit down and it came right up to his chin, perfect; he didn't swallow any in his mouth but it covered his entire body.

He scrubbed his still sensitive skin lightly, not wanting it to bruise but still wanting to be clean. Smelling clean and felling much better Harry tried to relax some in the tub. He'd long ago washed away the tears that had escaped his eyes. But he couldn't help but fell as if they still stood up on his pale face; raw and red.

He didn't know how to feel. It was a completely confusing conflict of interest. On one hand, he tried to think logically, he was away from the torment that is the Dursley's. While on the other he was now a captive of the in famed Dark Lord that had been trying to kill him for approximately sixteen years. He didn't know how long Voldemort had taken to planning his initial attack. Months? Days? Years? He wasn't sure. And truly he didn't feel like knowing the answer.

What he did want to find out though was what was with this sudden act of kindness. While it was most certainly a trap, without doubt, there was still some kindness evolved. But why was Voldemort hiding it, he was utterly defenceless, even dying. But there he goes and heals his arch-foe. He hadn't needed to do that. Was it for the wizard debt? Was there even one in this case?

Harry buried his head in his hands, more confused then ever before. He wanted to hate Voldemort, despise him for everything he'd done. But also found himself wanting to thank him, to like him, he couldn't have it both ways. He knew this. He signed and retrieved a towel, drying himself off.

As he got out of the tube he looked out at his wet body. Physically he was beautiful and he knew it, though he was a little on the skinny side. "Oh! Father of Mercy, Mother of Merlin!" he said, sliding down the wall. He'd just remembered what he'd spilled to Voldemort when he'd been in bed with him. For Merlin's sake he'd grinded against the fucking dark lord. Again Harry buried his head in his hands. Not exactly something he wanted his enemy to know about him.

Now what was he to do? Voldemort could blackmail him into anything with that. Well maybe not murder, but everything else was certainly open. Hopefully he just won't realise now powerful a weapon he had in his position. That though was laughable, he's a bloody, quite literally too, Slytherin, he'd take advantage of it even if it wasn't important. He'd just have to pretend it didn't mean anything, that it wasn't that important.

With the little resolution he had left, he hosted himself up and dressed in the clothes he'd been given. He couldn't help but noticed, even in a situation like this, how nicely tailored they were, and such fine silk. And Voldemort had tossed then on the bed like they were rags. He most definitely was loaded. Not exactly a good thing for an evil dark lord bent on killing and maiming the world, not to mention him too.

Dressed and wearing the most neutral facial expression he could muster, which was quite good he had to admit, the summer sessions with the Dursley's helped, he opened wide the door and sauntered out like he owned all of London, England. Little did he know that he could actually afford it.

A/N: thanxs all for reading my fic. Sorry this took me so long to put up, but my excuse is school started again and I've started a harder program. While please REVIEW and tell me what you think? Good, no good? Did I leave out something that he should have been wondering? In the next chapter a confrontation, but between who and who? While once I write it out I can tell you. XD

Ok pole here with only 4 options, question: who should Harry be with?

only Voldemort

Voldemort and Severus Snape

Voldemort and Malfoy (one of the two I'll keep that a surprise if it's one of your choices.)

ALL of them combined

He will be with Voldemort there is no getting past that but I'd like to know if he should be with Snape or Malfoy or just exclusively with Voldemort. Please review and let me know your choices, REVIEW!