Disclaimer: I do not own.

//This is Parseltongue.//

Paraselenic

Modus Vivendi // a compromise or arrangement that allows conflicting people, groups, or ideas to coexist

Harry glowered at Voldemort as he finally stopped shooting off curses at him, Harry's own secondary wand still pointing towards him. Upon putting the pieces of Harry's identity together, Harry had reassessed his previous thoughts of Voldemort being somewhat reasonable when he had immediately began firing several very nasty Dark curses at him in succession. Initially, Harry had just dodged and put up shields, but after ten minutes of being fired at like he had a bullseye painted on his forehead (which, all technicalities taken into consideration, he supposed he did… but that was beside the point), he had finally gotten fed up.

That had actually been what had stopped the impromptu duel, surprisingly.

He had retaliated with one of his favorite hexes, an obscure spell that would painfully turn a person's skin inside-out without actually killing them, reattaching said skin on, just with the nerves and capillaries exposed. It left the person looking really quite gruesome.

"Where did you learn that spell? The only documented record of it is in one of Le Fey's diaries…"

Harry raised an eyebrow at the expression on Voldemort's face. It was eager and almost excited, and Harry couldn't help but feel an answering excitement. Finally, someone who could appreciate the obscurities of some of his favorite spellworks. Most immortals had no use for Wizard magic, so he hadn't had a single person beyond Dante to discuss such things with. "Yes, yes, it's in the Fata Morgana, page four hundred…"

"And seventeen, yes!" Voldemort, despite the deformities of his form, looked somehow young with a childish smile on his face, clearly fascinated that someone else had read the rare tome. "Did you see the entrail-rearranging spell on six hundred and seventy two?"

Harry nodded emphatically, lowering his wand and returning the grin. "It's a bit risky to use, though, since the slightest mispronunciation could wind up castrating you. Not a chance I'm willing to take, thank you. Have you read Horrible, Hostile Hexes by Merwyn the Malicious(1)?"

"There is still a copy of that? Weren't most of his works lost after his death?"

"I was gifted one of the last remaining copies for my twentieth birthday… you could borrow it if you'd like."

At the same moment, both wizards seem to realize how terribly out of character they had been acting and settled down, taking their original seats on either side of Voldemort's desk, disarray of the office notwithstanding. Harry kicked away a large piece of an end table from the arm of his chair, settling comfortably across it once more. Voldemort sighed and ran his hand over his bald head, eyeing Harry critically. "I must say, your knowledge of the Dark arts lends your story credence."

"It's been ten years for me, Tom. I've been trained in combat, dueling, and magics forgotten by humans. I finally woke up after the Department of Mysteries fiasco and saw how little control I had over my own life. I made a change. I finally feel ready to confront my destiny… and I believe that can be best accomplished if you and I work together." Harry tucked a stay wisp of black hair behind his ear before throwing Voldemort a grin. "And I'll let you borrow the book."

Voldemort pursed his lipless mouth, crimson eyes searching the man in front of him for long moments in silence before he bowed his head just the barest bit. "It shall be done, Potter. I daresay you've grown acceptably Slytherin in your time away."

Harry merely grinned, "Ah, but Tom… I've always had it in me."

Crimson eyes rolled and Voldemort steepled his fingers. "Why do you insist on referring to me by that plebian name? I despise it, you know."

"Because regardless of your wishes, it is your name. If you really insist, I will call you Voldemort, but I would prefer Tom."

"It doesn't matter," he said with a wave of his hand. "A name is just a name. However, if you call me that in front of my Death Eaters, I will Crucio you out of existence. Now, what are these grand plans of yours? It must be something magnificent to have brought you all the way here."

"Hogwarts," Harry stated simply. "No offense meant of course, but you've not been very enterprising in the years since your rebirth. The ministry and Hogwarts are the two most important institutions in the British magical world, and if we can get them… we can have Britain."

Voldemort nodded slowly. "I admit my priorities may have seemed rather single-minded, but being left without a body for over a decade can leave quite a grudge," he said dryly, lacing his fingers and propping his chin on them. "However, I have been slowly placing my men and women within the ministry, seeding my people into the infrastructure. It did stunt my plans, however, when you managed to out Lucius last month."

Harry smirked before laughing suddenly. "Oh my, Lucius isn't going to be happy… I left him petrified at the entrance."

"You… petrified Lucius?"

"Well, I needed to get here today, so I couldn't wait and find a simple way to get to you. So, I accosted our pretty Mr. Malfoy in Knockturn Alley and asked him as nicely as I am capable for him to bring me here… needless to say, he wasn't happy with me, and I had to petrify him before he retaliated."

Voldemort raised one brow. "I would rather you not attack my followers, Potter."

"You can call me Harry, you know," he retorted, the corner of his lip twitching. "And I am not going to run around assaulting your Death Eaters now that we have an agreement. You are aware that I will not wear your mark or bow to you, aren't you?"

The brow lowered and Voldemort's jaw set. "I thought as much… you and your Gryffindor stupidity. While I must admit that this displeases me greatly, I think forcing you or killing you would only work against me in the end. Am I correct, Little Gryffindor?"

"Ah, but this is my Slytherin pride talking, not my admittedly vast Gryffindor side. I refuse to submit to anyone."

Voldemort's lipless mouth curved in a wicked smirk. "That was rather suggestive. Proving you wrong would be entertaining."

"Ah, now that is a different story all together," Harry said with a small chuckle. "But, no offense meant Tom, but you're not really my type. Scaly isn't attractive."

Voldemort didn't seem to take offense, merely waving his hand and his grin fading. "How do you plan to take Hogwarts?"

"From the inside, of course."

Voldemort waited for elaboration with a pointed look.

Harry leaned forward, propping his elbows on Voldemort's desk. "I will return to my relatives' home right after I left it and return to Hogwarts for my sixth year with the help of the Reversion and Regression potions. I will play the part of Dumbledore's Golden Boy and plan my assault from the interior, and I will take Dumbledore down by the end of the year."

"When will you be missed? "

"I need to return to my relative's house by noon tomorrow."

"That's bothersome. You will need to be introduced to my Death Eaters, and we still have much planning to do. I would like to hear your ideas for the future."

"That is something we really must discuss, Tom. Your pointless killings will only pull the fight in the Light's favor. While I agree that a magical being with a muggle dilutes our bloodlines and increases the existence of squibs, why do you hold such animosity towards muggleborns? You should know I can't condone that."

Crimson eyes narrowed. "What do you think the muggles would do if they found out about us? We would become targets for them, because we are different and a threat. We cannot risk exposure."

"And making yourself known with suspicious deaths across the English countryside is staying hidden?" said Harry. "Yes, the muggles would persecute us, that is a given. Their thoughts have changed little since the days of the Salem Witch Trials, and I don't doubt how they would react to learning magic was real. But Tom, you should know better than most the power of muggle denial. They would not accept its existence without proof… and how will they get that proof?"

"It is not the absence or presence of proof that is the problem. It is the fools in the Light who think that muggles can be their friends that are the problem! With idiots like that running around, we'll be exposed within a few years and have to fight a war that the muggles know they are participating in. I prefer extermination," Voldemort said, voice tight.

"We have advanced since the seventeenth century, and they cannot find us if we do not wish to be found. We have muggle repelling charms that require special spells to circumvent that only certain people know… they cannot find us, Tom. Even if every muggleborn suddenly decided to reveal our existence, they would not be able to find us. They would have to drop a bomb on their own city to rid themselves of us."

Voldemort tipped his head in concession. "Be that as it may, muggleborns dilute the bloodlines as much as muggles do. It will mean the end of the Wizarding world."

"How do they dilute it? A wizard is a wizard, Tom. What is better, two magical people bearing children, or purebloods continuing only to breed amongst themselves and interbreeding so badly that children begin to have deformities? Or worse yet, the ostracized purebloods like the Weasleys dipping into the muggle gene pool and weakening magic to nonexistence?"

Voldemort leaned back in his chair and hummed thoughtfully, taking a long time to formulate his answer. Harry let him, watching the expressions cross the reptilian face. The silence was surprisingly comfortable, and Harry was quite amazed at how easily he was relaxing around what had once been his greatest enemy. He didn't have the time to contemplate it much, though, as Voldemort shrugged. "I suppose I can concede that point, but you know the Death Eaters will not be happy."

"Am I supposed to care? They are your subordinates, no? They will obey or you can throw around your Cruciatus until they do as you say. Popular opinion has rarely influenced you."

"I suppose you are correct," Voldemort said with an amused smile. "How will we meet once you are in Hogwarts? Surely your absence would be noted."

"It would normally, but so long as I do not often disappear at night, I can manage to get away."

"Severus could help with that."

"No," Harry said quickly, perhaps a bit too much.

"And why not? He is my only marked Death Eater within Hogwarts, surely you could use the assistance."

"I…" Harry paused, annoyed at himself. Despite his dislike for the snarky git, he didn't want to get him killed. After all, there was no real proof that the Potions Master was on Dumbledore's side. He could be playing the Light just as easily as he could be playing the Dark. "I am not in the habit of trusting double agents. He spies for you against the Light, he spies for Dumbledore against the Dark. It is difficult to know what he truly believes. I don't want him knowing my identity."

Voldemort looked skeptical but nodded anyway. "Fine. But when you are certain of his leanings you will either take him out or let him in, yes?"

Harry nodded. "Yes. If he was a liability I would not hesitate to make him a meal," Harry said with a smirk that barely exposed one fang.

Spider-like fingers tapped a tattoo on the desk. "This brings up another question. How are you going to hide your Vampirism within Hogwarts? Even with both the Regression and Reversion potions, your fangs and blood cravings will not be affected."

Harry nodded. "I will make do. Since my godfather's death was only a month ago as far as anyone near to me is concerned, it will not seem suspicious that I do not smile widely enough to reveal my teeth or if I take long walks alone."

Voldemort tipped his head. "His death was unfortunate; it was not intended. Bellatrix would have used Avada Kedavra had she wished him dead. I did not wish to give you any reason to be more daring in your vendetta."

"I refuse to forgive her for her mistake, but I do not blame anyone for it. I have had many years to grieve, and though I miss him… I do not think he would accept me as I am now. It is… for the best." Harry shook his head and quirked a forced smile. "So, world conquest?"

"Don't be daft." Voldemort's eyes rolled skyward.

"Well, I really don't understand what it is you're going for. I understand taking out your opposition and overtaking the ministry… but what in the hell is your ultimate goal?"

"To be unopposed. To be known for my strength and to be regarded as the icon I should be…"

"Your ego is smothering me, Tom."

The snake-like man glared before sitting back in his chair, eyes up towards the ceiling. "The structure of Britain is disturbing. It is corrupt and out of control."

"So, instead, you will build it in your vision?"

"Precisely. I will make sure the muggles never have the chance to stand against us, make sure that wizards will never die out. Our blood will stay strong and thus we shall prevail in the end, a stronger race. Under my guidance, Wizards will become great once more…"

"Your head is swelling again, Tom."

"Potter, I will spell you into oblivion if you don't shut the hell up."

Harry shrugged a shoulder and smirked. "I'm only taking the piss out of you, Tom. So, then… let's talk war. Because you know that is what it will be?"

"Just because you're a buffoon doesn't mean I am. I will call in my Death Eaters in an hour. Until then, we plan."

Harry pulled the hood of his cloak forward to shadow his face once more as he stood behind Voldemort; the man was waiting on Wormtail to arrive so he could call the rest of his Death Eaters. They had managed to make a lot of plans with compromises on both their parts, and Harry was shocked to find that he actually worked well with Tom Riddle. Like the older man had said all those years ago in the Chamber of Secrets: they really were a lot alike. They had much in common now that Harry was not blind to the world around him, and their personalities meshed together pleasantly. For the first time in years Harry found someone other than Valerian that he enjoyed talking and joking with, feeling strangely at ease in the company of his parents' killer. No, he wouldn't be hugging the man and declaring his love for him anytime soon, but he had found real intelligent common ground with Voldemort.

As Pettigrew slunk into the long hall, Harry couldn't hold back a feral growl from escaping his throat. Voldemort raised an eyebrow toward him and Harry hissed quietly, not letting Pettigrew hear as he approached. //I want this one dead, Tom. I can concede Bellatrix, but I will kill this one.//

Voldemort cut crimson eyes toward barely exposed green. //Fine. But can it wait until after you have fulfilled your plans? He is useful to me.//

Harry only nodded and bowed his head again, purposely not looking in the rat's direction to quell the violent urges he evoked in him. Voldemort's voice once again took on it's hissing, raspy quality as he ordered Pettigrew to his knees so he could activate the Dark Mark, making Harry smirk maliciously as whimpers left the traitor's throat.

The results were nearly instantaneous. Robed and masked figures began appearing in the hall, immediately kneeling in supplication. Voldemort's eyes flickered indolently across his followers, cowing them as they peeked curiously at the figure to Voldemort's left. Harry stood still but watched Voldemort through his lashes as the Dark Lord looked over those who arrived. It was nearly fifteen minutes before Voldemort looked satisfied with the turnout, glancing around at three dozen faceless Death Eaters.

"We have gained a new ally," he hissed loudly enough for them to hear, his hand waving toward where Harry stood. Harry resisted the urge to titter at the overly drawn out hisses that were heard even in a sentence without any S's. "He is powerful and is to be treated with the same respect you give me. I will not stop him from killing you if you have such a limited mental capacity as to challenge him. He goes by Mylläkkä, and with him, we shall turn the tides of this war! Soon we shall take both Hogwarts and the Ministry of Magic away from the simpering fools of the Light."

Harry stepped forward and pushed his hood back from his face, revealing himself to the assembled minions. He very nearly grinned as he saw one form stiffen painfully, a few wisps of white-blond hair giving away its owner's identity. Lucius was obviously displeased, and Harry looked forward to rubbing his snooty, patrician nose in it.

Harry inclined his head to the group and stepped back again, not needing to say anything to the group. Voldemort listened to reports from his members and gave new tasks, and Harry just watched silently over the proceedings. It was interesting, the difference between the man he had spent the afternoon bargaining with and the man who now was purposely making his followers shrink away in fear of him. It was nearly comical. He ignored the periodic dark looks that Lucius Malfoy was sending him along with the rageful ones from Bellatrix Lestrange. The woman was not pleased with someone being closer to her Lord in favor than she. It didn't bother Harry, so long as the foolish witch didn't try to stand against him.

Harry pulled himself back to attention as Voldemort's voice called out to Snape, beginning a plan they had decided on to discover the man's true allegiance. "Severus, come here. The rest of you may go."

As the loud cracks of apparition filled the room, Harry lowered himself to sit on the edge of the dais, sprawling back with his arms holding him up. He sent an amused look to Voldemort, who snorted at Harry's lack of dignity. The younger man shrugged and grinned, flicking his eyes towards Snape as he cautiously approached the platform and knelt.

"Yes, my Lord?"

"This year we will be setting our sights on Hogwarts. You will eventually play an intricate role in this, but for now I will just remind you to get as much information as possible. And tell the old man nothing of our plans."

"Yes, my lord," Severus said, bowing until his mask nearly touched the ground.

"You may go."

As Severus stood, Harry couldn't help a small chuckle from escaping him. "Tom, you're too good at the cowing-into-submission thing. Do you give lessons? Because I would really have fun with that talent."

Voldemort scowled. "What did I tell you about calling me that infernal name in front of others, brat?"

"Ah, it's just Snape. No harm, really."

Crimson eyes rolled, and Harry was pleased to see a lack of any real anger in Voldemort's eyes. "I should really hex you."

"Yes, you probably should. But then I would be angry, and I would not let you borrow my book."

"Must you hang that over my head?"

"Yes, it's ever-so entertaining."

Severus's eyes flicked back and forth in morbid fascination of this man who dared to… banter? Bantering with the Dark Lord! Either this Mylläkkä was terribly insane or just very lucky to be alive. And was Voldemort amused by him? Severus had a ominous premonition of doom in that moment, and wondered over what was to come for the Wizarding world.

Harry grinned when Severus finally Apparated away, stretching his back and standing to join Voldemort as the latter exited the hall. "Well, that was fun."

Voldemort didn't bother looking at him. "Potter, I swear you are going to be the death of my sanity."

"Ah, but Tom…" Harry began as he sashayed past the Dark Lord, throwing a wicked smirk over his shoulder, "the fun has only just begun."

(1) This is a real character from one of the Chocolate frog cards. Woo, me! XD I'm so canon. -snort-

Revised: 3/17/09 - Not as much editing in this one. Did I get more in previous edits, or was it just because this is a shorter chapter? Hum...