Everything was hazy.

Even Harry.

He came to awareness to hear the sharp, cold voice of his potions teacher, Professor Snape.

"-swear, my Lord, I have been loyal since your return. My faith is with you now." He sounded pleading, which was a very odd thing to hear from Snape. The man demanded things, never asked.

Harry's vision began to fade in, faint shapes and colours first, and then more sharp detailing. Snape was kneeling on the floor looking dishevelled, in front of Harry who was seated in a comfortable chair. The room was dark, lit by a few braziers and wall-torches, with heavy stone block walls and flooring. It wasn't somewhere he recognised.

"And yet, you were disloyal before, weren't you, Severus? Lord Voldemort dislikes traitors." He felt his mouth move, but had no control over it. Voldemort's body, he remembered suddenly, as everything began to make sense again.

Snape stayed silent, and Harry's (Voldemort's) sharp eyes spotted the sweaty sheen on the man's forehead. Good. Let him suffer. He'd made Harry's time at Hogwarts hell.

(…that was a very vicious thought, and though Harry hated Snape, he'd never wished pain upon him before. He suddenly felt Voldemort begin to build up the occlumency barriers between them again and realised that he felt… tangled with the man. What had happened?)

He'd been upset, angry. Grieving. There had been an explosion.

"Severus, tell me exactly what happened when you went to Dumbledore. What did you promise him? What did he make you swear?" Voldemort's voice was silky smooth as he folded his legs, leaning forward to look down at the man. "Do not think you can lie to me again, my servant. Most would not even be granted the opportunity for forgiveness - you are lucky. Do not waste Lord Voldemort's mercy."

Snape took a deep, shuddering breath and Harry wanted to do the same, focusing, not wanting to miss a moment of this. Snape had betrayed Voldemort? And now he was claiming to be loyal again? The Order had claimed that Snape was a spy in Voldemort's ranks - he remembered the trial of Igor Karkaroff, the pensieve memory, how Dumbledore had stood for him - but perhaps it was a lie?

"My Lord, I… after informing you of the Prophecy I went to Dumbledore," the words began to tumble out of Snape's mouth in a high, stressed tone of voice that Harry had never heard before from his teacher. "He was suspicious of me, and cruel when he found I had pled only for Lily's life, not her son or husband. He eventually said he would protect me provided I swore an oath," Snape hesitated for a long moment, "to protect Lily's son, Harry Potter, and began to spy for the Order."

"I… see…" Voldemort drew out the words, seemingly calm.

Harry was quietly reeling, remembering how Voldemort had asked his mother to step aside three times, those precious memories of her voice meant a great deal to him. Why had Snape asked Voldemort to spare her? Snape had sworn an oath to protect him? Was that why he had been counter-cursing Harry's broom in his first year? Was that why he was out on the grounds at the end of his third year?

"Lily Evans Potter is long dead, Severus. Now her son is too. What do you intend to do?"

Snape visibly flinched, but straightened his spine and looked up at Voldemort, black eyes determined. "I-I would serve you again, my Lord. Your goals, I have always agreed with, but more powerful men have tied me- now that Potter is gone, I have no need to be a teacher, no need to work for Dumbledore and the foolish Order. I don't even know if Dumbledore's protection of me still stands. I wish to pledge myself fully to the Dark, my Liege."

"Hm." Voldemort rested his chin on his hand as he looked at Snape. "But, Severus. You are my spy in the Order. What if I wish for you to continue that duty? You have asked far more of me before, but keeping a watch on Dumbledore is extremely important, and as is having eyes in the school. Hogwarts is Dumbledore's domain, and you have access to it, as it stands."

Harry cringed internally at the thought. Snape wanted to leave teaching and he was awful at it, terrifying his students and favouring the Slytherins, letting them toss ingredients into Gryffindor potions, but… he didn't have the authority to tell Voldemort not to do this.

Voldemort told him to behave if he wanted his body back, after all.

"Then… I would do as you ordered, my Lord." Snape bowed his head once more, shoulders slumping slightly but clearly submitting to the Dark Lord.

The smugness from Voldemort was clear, and Harry felt his lips curl into a smirk. "As much as I enjoy torturing you, Severus, it turns out I do not need your services in that area. You are much more reliable as a potions master. I'd like you to turn your eyes to the wolfsbane supply issue, work on providing and improving the potion. The werewolves are under my protection and I want to prove this to them after so long without my pushback against the Ministry."

Snape's eyes flashed, and Harry thought he saw a faint smile on the man's face for a moment.

"Yes, my Lord."

"And Severus, I think I will explain this to you, as you are bound by oath," Voldemort pointed his wand at Snape, and the man twitched, his hand flying to the other forearm. "Show me your Mark."

When Snape hastened to obey, Voldemort felt another surge of smugness, and Harry noted it with curiosity. Apparently having people bow to you was… intoxicating? Maybe that was why Voldemort liked to make people bow and serve.

Voldemort lowered his wand to the mark, and Snape clenched his jaw for a few seconds as Voldemort chanted something quietly. "This conversation is entirely oath-bound. Do recall that you belong to me, Snape. You swore your oath and let me put my mark on your body, and you chose to. Do not forsake me again, or I will cut off your hands and feed them to Nagini."

Slavery again, Harry thought quietly, but this was different. Liege Lord and servant. Willingly given. He didn't fully understand, but it felt like Snape was also under Voldemort's protection. House-elves didn't get that with their masters, there was no guarantee.

"Yes, Master," Snape rasped.

"Harry Potter is going to be resurrected soon." Voldemort changed the subject, emanating glee at the way Snape startled. "As he will be treated kindly and in my care, it should not interfere with your oaths. You may be permitted access to him at some point. Do behave, Severus."

Snape seemed even paler than before. "Y-yes, my Lord." He said, and Harry could practically see the millions of questions racing around in his mind.

"Do not tell Dumbledore of my plans for Potter, no doubt he will want to rescue Harry and pit him against me again. That will not happen. The child is under my protection now."

"Yes, my Lord."

Voldemort's meeting with Snape had carried on longer than that, but Harry was very tired and had slipped unconscious before the end of it, not waking for several more hours.

The Dark Lord was in the middle of cooking himself a meal, his wand flicking through the air as he directed salt and pepper and other herbs onto the sizzling meat. He paused when Harry stirred, lowering the heat so he could pay attention to the boy in his mind.

What Harry had done was unprecedented. He'd tapped into Voldemort's magical core through the 'main soul' as Voldemort referred to himself as, and expelled a huge explosion of magic out into the duelling room. The wards had held, barely, but the training dummies he'd been constructing needed rebuilding from scratch. It was admirable how compatible they were with each other, that Harry could wield Voldemort's magic with no real ill effects. He wondered if it would still work when they were in separate bodies.

is that possible? Harry's voice was small, guilty and tired. I didn't mean to do it…

Voldemort snorted. "Harry, when it comes to you I have learned to expect the impossible. It is quite possible for the soul pieces to wield their own magic - as evidenced by you gaining your own magical core rather than being a squib - but it makes sense that you would be able to access my magical core while in my body."

Aren't you angry? The boy hated to ask, but he was so confused and Voldemort could feel his emotions leaking over the places where their souls were trying to rejoin.

"No, I am not, Harry." Truthfully, Voldemort was worried that they would merge too much to be seperated properly, but he was not angry at Harry for his emotional reaction. It had given him more information to work with regarding their relationship. "I believe I know how to put you back, but the required potions will take about a week to brew. I have put Severus on the task, in one of my potions labs, so all I need to work on is the arithmancy calculations for the ritual. Other than that, I have a few things to plan but nothing important. The Dark Side is… quiet for now, until I solve this little… one body, two people issue."

What sort of move will it be this time? Now you've stopped hunting me, will it be another kid? Or just Dumbledore's Order? Harry snapped back, and Voldemort could feel the boy's pain. He was hurting, and lashing out, and frankly, Voldemort did not know how to deal with that.

(At the heart of it, he could relate. But he didn't want to think about that.)

"Harry, you're safe here," He tried, quiet as he flicked his wand to serve up his dinner. It had been almost ready, it would be fine. "Once you're in your own body, you will be able to feel your emotions properly, process this without all this… overlap. It will improve. You have every right to be upset, you know."

Harry was likely in mourning for his own life, and Voldemort was in the unique position to understand that. He wondered if the boy would realise.

You didn't answer my question.

"Quite frankly, right now my plans are minimal," Voldemort responded. "I assume you know nothing of my actual goals, so I won't bring those up until we are seperated properly. I will be pushing for Lucius to get pardoned at his trial, working with the werewolves to supply them with safe wolfsbane and reservations while I attempt to reverse some of the legislation that Umbridge has passed, and figuring out what to do with you." He hadn't had to explain his core campaign goals in a long time, and he didn't really want to do it while he was tied to Harry in case the boy exploded his magic again.

Werewolf rights. And… Lucius? He was fighting in the ministry, he was caught in the act, how will you pull that off? Harry seemed less angry now, more curious, and Voldemort cautiously began to eat small bites of his dinner. Between chewing, he cast his mind around for Nagini and prodded her gently, asking for her presence.

The serpent was somewhere in the grounds, but had not hunted anything and so did not complain, simply sent her agreement and began to return.

He finished his dinner, but he kept Harry's question in mind as he did and had a suitable response when he was no longer eating. "Lucius was not caught in the act, he was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. Without your testimony, and the fact that the Order is an illegal group, there are very few legitimate witnesses that could place him there. Dumbledore never saw him, and he was found unconscious in the chamber of death," Voldemort explained to the boy, relaxing when he felt no strong emotions from him. "He has been claiming he was brought along by the death eaters to stop him from raising the alarm, and he has an excellent lawyer. I imagine he will get off with a fine and damaged pride."

Huh. Slippery man, Harry commented. He seemed to have a distaste for the Malfoys, and that wasn't surprising, but it was interesting to see that it was just that, a mild distaste, not the epic rivalry Malfoy's son liked to brag about.

Nagini entered the kitchen shortly after, and Voldemort stood to greet her, bending down so she could climb up his shoulders.

"No rabbits or hares or stupid birds or anything, my Marvolo!" She complained, and he stifled a laugh.

"Do you wish for one of our live ones?"

She made the snake equivalent of a snort. "Maybe later. For now, I require you to relax. Work is for daytime." It had indeed turned evening.

This would be the second evening Voldemort had Potter in his head, the first day that Potter was aware for.

Wait, I was out overnight?

The boy was clearly unsettled at the idea, and Voldemort allowed himself a small sigh. As Nagini said, work was for daytime. It had been a long time since his friend had first enforced this evening routine, making Voldemort spend some time idling instead of working.

He wasn't certain about having Potter intrude on their time together, but it wasn't like there was much else he could do.

"Yes, Harry, you exhausted yourself trying to use my magic and were entirely unaware for about fourteen hours. I was… unsure if you would wake at all, and I do not know if you will if you do that again, so please try to control your emotions until you have your body back."

Harry tucked himself inside the Occlumency shields, but his soul shard remained pressed tightly against Voldemort. He'd begun visualising it resting against his chest, above his heart.

Or perhaps that was always where Harry had latched on.

He looked away, to Nagini. "My dear, do you have a preference this evening?" The piece of his soul wrapped within her own, tight and content, felt very obvious in the unnatural warmth of her body.

"The sitting room with the hearth. Read something to me!" She demanded, excited.

Lips twitching with his amusement, Voldemort headed up to the sitting room and watched as Nagini chose a book. She enjoyed mystery novels and old tales with happy endings, and the book she picked was no exception.

He felt a faint disbelief from Harry, but ignored it, summoning the book and sitting on the thick rug before the fireplace.

It was interesting to have Harry resting in his mind as he and Nagini enjoyed their time together. The warm glow of the fire was drowned out by the happy humming warmth of the two soul shards, nestled beside his own. It was intoxicating and enjoyable and Voldemort could sense echoing sentiments from both of them.

Contentment. Comfort. Safety.

That was what this felt like.

And instead of stifling that feeling, like he had expected of his nemesis-turned-Horcrux's presence, it was multiplied.

It felt good.

Eventually he finished reading, and he had to glance at the clock to realise that three hours had passed in a haze of warmth and hypnotic words on paper, hanging in a pool of comfort. He closed the book and ensured Nagini was off his legs before standing. He let the book float back to the shelf with a wave of his wand.

Harry was comfortable too, having settled down into a sort of doze in his mind, but the boy began to awaken as Voldemort made his way out of the room. Nagini preferred to sleep in a room with a fireplace, but Voldemort disliked the irregular flickering light so they generally met up in the mornings. Harry would be joining Voldemort because there wasn't exactly another option.

It was only as uncomfortable as they made it, so Voldemort got changed without looking down and firmly did not think about it. It was only for another week, and then they'd be in separate bodies and it would be fine.

Not that Voldemort ever really looked at his body anymore, anyway. In the darkened lamps of his bedroom he felt more comfortable with the scales along his spine and hips, the swell of heat pits in his neck and slitted eyes, all the little creature traits that had come out so strongly when he had been resurrected. Partially caused by Nagini's venom and scales being potion ingredients but partially because he'd already had naga ancestry. That sort of deep, Dark ritual brought the creature traits up to the surface.

It was just how it was. There wasn't any way to reverse that transformation, so he just lived with it. The intimidation factor was generally helpful, but it did make him feel somewhat alienated from his human followers.

He had no mirror in his bedroom, so he did not look in one before he peeled back the covers. No chance of accidentally seeing himself without warning.

Voldemort tucked himself into bed and turned the lamps out, grateful for Harry's continuing silence.

They fell asleep quickly, souls resting against each other.

It was the deepest sleep Voldemort had had in decades.