Word Count: 365
Ministry: L4: Office of Misinformation: Trio Era
Easter Egg: Day 10, Stripe: Voldemort Wins!AU
Warning: Uhhh. Mind control? Ish?
Not His Job
Harry knelt slowly onto the pillow waiting for him. It was plush and comfortable, made of the softest velvet in the prettiest shade of emerald. He played with the tassels absently, paying no attention to the people filing into the room around him. Beside him, Voldemort sat on a throne-like chair, raised on a dias so he was overlooking his followers.
Eventually, the movement stilled and the noise settled into silence. There was a pause, filled with anticipation, as everyone waited for their leader to speak.
"Victory, my friends," Voldemort murmured softly, voice carrying through the room. "Is ours."
Stomping and cheering filled the room, and Harry winced at the sudden noise. Voldemort brushed a hand through his messy hair to settle him.
"There is still work to be done," Voldemort added, and his followers quieted. "The Ministry will need to be restructured, Hogwarts needs a new curriculum and teachers. There will be an uprising; of this I have no doubt. They will be punished sharply and swiftly."
Harry leant against Voldemort's leg.
"Without Harry here to help them, they will fail, dismally."
Harry heard his name, but it felt distant, almost like he was in a daze. He didn't know why he was sitting on a pillow, suddenly, nor why the hand in his hair felt so good, or why he was leaning against the man he'd been prophesied to kill.
There was a moment of clarity.
That this wasn't right.
This was… he wasn't supposed to be here.
But it was gone as soon as it came and he sunk back into the comfort around him. He was safe here. That was what he was positive of.
His master… Voldemort would look after him.
He knew that like it had been ingrained into his very soul, into his mind, like it had been branded into his skin. He was Voldemort's, and Voldemort would keep him safe.
What about your friends? Your life? Your ambitions? Your morality?
Harry didn't care for the questions and shoved them away. He didn't need to think about things like that anymore.
It wasn't his job.
His job was to be here, at Voldemort's side.
Because he was his.