The Calm: Chapter Two
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Warnings: This fic will be Harry x Voldemort. Dark!Harry. Gore maybe. Cursing (both types of cursing). Guys, it will get smutty between Harry and Voldemort somewhere along the way. Not this chapter. Just wanted to warn.
A/N: Hello, I edited the last chapter and added more to it. Perhaps you will like to reread it because I added more things to hopefully make sense. Also my Voldemort is going to be more, well, human in my story because he will have created seven horcruxes but he absorbs all but four- the diary, the ring, Nagini, and Harry (accidentally still).
"... disappeared for two years. We all believed him dead, my lord. He is foolishly lucky, no one has ever been recorded to survive the Veil. Perhaps it was that green light that surrounded him? Upon first impression, I believed it to be the Killing Curse, but after further inspection in my pensieve, the lights appears to encompass him in a way that is all too different," a deep voice spoke from about ten feet away. "The same light that is surrounding him now."
People! He had not interacted with people in a while, two years in fact. Two years is a long time. At least he will not have to take his N.E.W.T.'s or anything else. Well, according to his magic, he will not be taking any exams soon, seeing as how he will be allying himself with Voldemort. More like submitting himself to Voldemort. Honestly, what kind of name is Voldemort? It's too long. Voldie sounds better, not as intimidating.
"... seems to rely on sheer luck. He breaks all the rules of magic, he should have died the same night I killed his parents, Severus," a silky voice cuts into his thoughts. A silky voice that sounds too close.
He cracks open an eye and is met with intense ruby ones. He immediately forcefully closes his eyes, willing it all away. In theory, it sounds okay to go to Voldie. But in actuality, it is bloody terrifying. Oh Merlin, what if his breath smells bad? He has been out for two years.
"Idiot, just reach out to him with your magic. I am great, he will love us. Rather, he will love me, but he will tolerate you." The reassuring voice in his head (honestly a voice in someone's head is not supposed to be reassuring) soothed him. He opens his eyes again and stares directly into Voldie's eyes. He visualises his magic poking Voldie's eyes.
-0-0-0-0-0-0-
Severus startles as the Dark Lord releases a yelp and then reaches out for the Potter brat as if to throttle him, though he does not get far due to the light surrounding the boy in a cocoon. The Dark Lord growls at this barrier and starts pacing alongside the bed.
"You impertinent brat. I allow you to stay in my bed-" they couldn't move him, "I did not kill you-" he tried though, "and then you go and- and- POKE me in my eyes?"
Severus knows that if he even lets out one guffaw of laughter, his life will be over in milliseconds, so it takes all the self control that he knows to remain neutral.
"I was trying to show you my magic," a gravelly sounding voice comes from the bed.
"SHOW me your magic? Show ME your magic? What good will that do, you are no use to me and I would rather see you dead than see your weak, little magic."
Severus does not think he has ever seen the Dark Lord have a fit as he is having now.
-0-0-0-0-0-0-
He closes his eyes again and visualises his magic grabbing Voldemort's hand and letting him feel. He hears a sharp intake of breath. Honestly, if it were anyone else it would be considered a gasp, but saying that Voldie gasped sounds too common for him.
He feels something holding his head, something that is not his magic. It feels hot hot hot hot hot. But it doesn't burn. It feels like going from an extremely cold area to a hot summer day. It feels reassuring and powerful and radiant. He wants to immerse itself into it. He can feel his magic reaching out and grasping it as if it were an old lover.
"He is ours, child. His magic is what feels so wonderfully pleasant. So beautiful. He is ours." His magic is purring?
He opens his eyes and Voldie has his eyes closed and he looks so… so… serene?
He almost misses it but now he has a great realisation-
"Why don't you look like a snake?" he blurts out. He immediately wishes he hadn't because Voldemort's magic (?) pulls away and he is left feeling bereft. He focuses back on Voldie's face, his extremely handsome face. How could he have missed it? He supposes it is because his eyes are so intense it is difficult to look elsewhere once they have hooked you in.
He focuses back into the present and notices that Voldemort looks as shocked as a dark lord can be.
He misses the warmth so he reaches out with his magic again, watching now. He sees that a bright green blob comes from him and to Voldie. It draws out something white. So white. Is that Voldie's magic? Ironic how someone so dark has magic that is pure white.
He feels the rush of heat again, and he can feel it coursing through all of his body. Wait. All of his body. He immediately retreats his magic and he can see Voldie's magic trying to chase after it. He looks up to Voldie's face and he sees it contorted in fury.
"Severus," he had forgotten that Snape was in there, Snape looks bewildered, to say the least, "leave at once." Voldemort sounds pissed off, he cannot think of any reason for that.
Snape leaves so fast, his cloak does not even billow. The door shuts with a click! Everything is deadly quiet.
Voldemort approaches the bed until his right thigh is against it. He then gracefully sits down on the edge. He is about a meter away and he should feel scared but he is too embarrassed at the blood that rushed to his face and to his lower body.
"Let me feel it," Voldemort's whispered command sounds more like a plea.
He knows what he means, so he releases his magic and it goes to Voldemort without any direction to do so, it reminds him of a magnet. Voldemort sighs in bliss and closes his eyes.
He can feel the heat traveling through his veins. Through every cell that makes his body up. He closes his eyes and relishes in it, basking in the light that is Voldemort's magic.
He finally moves his body, he moves to lay on his stomach to hide the odd effect that the magic does to him. They remain like this for a couple of minutes.
He eventually falls asleep feeling safe and warm for the first time in a very long time.
-0-0-0-0-0-0-
He wakes up and he feels well rested. He also feels warmth. His magic is still attached to Voldemort's, but where is Voldemort? He turns his head and he sees the most powerful, fearful dark lord in existence snuggling up to a pillow about a meter away from him.
He softly snorts and sits up in the bed. He feels the cuddler stir beside him but he soon calms down. He gets off the bed and heads toward the only door besides the one that Severus left through. He enters upon a bathroom fit for royalty, though he supposes Voldemort is a bit royal what with being Slytherin's heir. He shuts the door and goes to the loo that looks ridiculously haughty. It has an emerald encrusted handle.
He pulls down his trousers and he holds his extremely sensitive and aching-
The door slams open and he freezes. He looks toward the door and there is a fuming dark lord.
"WHY did you leave? Is there a reason as to why-"
The dark lord's eyes zero in on his hand looking as if he is doing very not innocent things.
"Oh. Well. Yes. Alright. Goodbye." The dark lord clears his throat and awkwardly - yet still regal - backs out of the lavatory and shuts the door behind him.
He lets out a groan. Great, now the dark lord thinks he is both literally and figuratively a wanker.