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Chapter two: the Dark Lord

His breath quickened as he opened the wooden door that was half-hidden under long tresses of ivy. Voldemort was here somewhere… he wished he'd been less stupid and written Sirius about this before rushing off, or informed the Aurors of the information he'd received from the rat, but he also had a feeling… he had to do this alone. There had to be a reason why he was the damned boy-who-lived, else the previous years of his life, his victory over Voldemort's younger self and the Basilisk, had accounted for nothing. It had been laughably easy to find Voldemort's hiding place after getting the address from Pettigrew. It truly showed how weak the man still was, unable to protect his own residence with any sort of shields or spells. The last time they had seen each other, Voldemort had been barely more than a ghost. Now... Harry had no clue what awaited him now, only that it was a good sign when Pettigrew was the only Death Eater who had been near Voldemort. It spoke of weakness that none of his other followers had been called back.

He had no idea yet how he was going to kill the dark wizard, but he hoped a quick Diffindo to the throat would help… why did everyone always make such a fuss about duelling? It was dark in the house, and there was a layer of dust on the wooden stairs, something he was grateful for because it conveniently muffled the sound of his footsteps, even if the steps creaked under his feet. A sudden, ridiculous thought entered his mind, and he grinned, wondering why the hell he was worrying about the Ministry finding out about him using magic while he was about to face the most evil dark wizard in history… A streak of light from under a door told him Voldemort's location, and he prepared himself, wand at the ready as he pushed the door open.

Harry stepped inside, holding his breath. He scanned the room, expecting to find a man, or at least a ghost-like shadow like in his first year. Yet, he saw neither and furrowed his brow. He turned the chair, but that too was empty. Was the Dark Lord somewhere else in the house? Had he gone out? Before he could turn and leave the room however, he heard a whimpering sound and tracked its source to the couch, which he'd previously thought to be unoccupied. His attention was drawn to a small bundle, which he had passed off as crumpled blanket before. The whimpering sounded again and carefully, fully aware of that it could be a trap, he unfolded the black fabric with trembling hands, gasping with horror and stepping back the instant the blanket fell away, revealing… something.

~Na… Nagini…~ the thing whispered, and in that instant, Harry realised that what he saw before him, no… who he saw before him, was Lord Voldemort himself, reduced to something that was barely human, and, from the looks of it, not very healthy. ~Nagini…~ it said again, more fervently this time.

Once Harry got his stomach under control and was certain that he wouldn't retch -from disgust or nerves, he wasn't entirely sure-, Harry finally took it upon himself to assess the situation. Voldemort was harmless. Well, as harmless as he was ever going to be… This was his chance to end the Dark Lord once and for all. He raised his wand at the embryo-like, white body to fire the cutting curse. The wood trembled in his hands as he brought it closer to that fragile, long neck. Then, red eyes opened and stared at him without focusing, their stare feverish.

He was ill, Harry concluded with shock, and the teen hesitated, cursing his good nature. He tried steadying his hand a few times again, mouthing the word without actually saying it before groaning loudly. He couldn't do it. While Voldemort was anything from innocent, he just couldn't find it within himself to murder an ill man, looking like an underfed baby. Putting down his wand, he stared at Voldemort, wondering what the HELL he should do.

A sound behind him made him jump, and he scrambled away with fright as a large snake slithered through the door opening. ~Master… you called?~ she said –it was clearly a female voice-. Nagini glided over the floor to the figure on the couch, affectionately nudging the head while her tongue quickly flicked in and out of her snout.

~Wormtail… where… is~

~Shh, master, don't speak, you are not well… The rat hasn't returned still. However, there is another one of your servants in this room~

Harry wanted to vehemently protest against that, but decided to keep his mouth shut, not really in for a fight with a twelve-foot long snake that was possibly venomous.

~Who?~ Voldemort whispered, sounding as if he was struggling to keep conscious.

~You do not know him?~ Nagini said, suspiciously flicking out her tongue as she approached Harry with an almost hypnotic stare. ~It's merely a hatchling… the stuff on his head is black… hair, yes? Green eyes… I cannot say more. You know I can't distinguish humans well… they all look more of the same to me, even after you gave me human vision.~

~Food.~ Voldemort groaned, thin fingers clutching the blanket.

~He could milk me in Wormtail's stead…~ she suggested. Harry had no idea what this 'milking' was. He was positive though, that Voldemort hadn't heard her anyway, for he made a pained sound in the back of his throat and Nagini inched closer to him again, hissing soothing words.

The whole scène seemed so… off. He'd always heard how unnatural and cold and evil Voldemort was, yet here he lay ill on a couch, being comforted by his familiar. He knew that, if he wouldn't do anything, there would be a large possibility that he got fed to the snake, so quickly, a plan formed in his mind. While he might not be able to kill Voldemort now, he was sure that he could pull it off if the man was healthy. The consequence that thought led to made him shudder with disgust, but he was also… excited for some strange reason.

~Nagini… tell me what to do to make him… better,~ he calmly hissed, and she snake immediately snapped her head to the side to give him a penetrating, bewildered stare.

~You speak?~

~Yes.~ He decided that it would be better to not give her any explanation for it, lest he screw up and stumble over his own words as he tended to do. Nagini didn't seem to care either way.

~Master is dying… the rat didn't come back. Master will not last much longer without someone to feed him. I would do it, but alas, my body is not very suitable to brew a potion with… You can, yes?~ she said, a tone of hopelessness in her voice that made Harry's stomach twinge with guilt.

~What potion? ~ he asked.

~You need my venom. The instructions are written down, and the ingredients are all in the room next to this one. It takes a few days to brew, but my master had Wormtail make a few extra bottles in case something happened. They're at the desk.~

Harry got to his feet and exited the room. This was his last chance to back down. He could run away and leave Voldemort to rot. From what he'd just heard, Voldemort would wither away on his own, starve to death with no-one to care for him. The thought made Harry disgusted with himself. Just like he could not kill an ill or sleeping opponent, he was also not such a coward to let an enemy starve to death rather than face him. No, this was his fight. This was what was expected of him. He should be the one to kill the Dark Lord… not leave the man to die. Besides, the man had proven last time that he died that he could return to life again… what said that wouldn't happen again? If Harry left, he would have absolutely no way of verifying whether Voldemort's spirit wouldn't sneak off anywhere else again.

The room he entered looked like a study, and both Muggle and magic books adorned the walls. It seemed that Voldemort wasn't here for a long time yet… Harry grabbed a vial on the desk with a green, opaque draught in it and returned to the other room. He stepped over Nagini, his hands trembling a bit under the scrutinizing gaze of the snake. ~And now? ~ he asked her, kneeling down next to the couch.

~Pour it in his mouth. You need to massage his throat to have him swallow it. He is too ill to do it himself. ~

Repulsed, he touched the rudimentary, white body, surprised when it wasn't scaly or slimy or anything… it just felt like skin, albeit very cold skin. He helped Voldemort to a sitting position. The blanket fell off completely, and for the first time, he could fully see what served as the man's body now, and had the urge to flee and spit out his stomach contents. He had the shape of a crouched child, except that Harry had never seen anything looking less than a child. He was completely hairless, and skin was stretched straight over the bones at some places. His arms and legs were thin and feeble, and the feet looked more like large, clawed things that weren't wholly formed yet. And of course, there was the face…

Not willing to touch the slit in the head that served as a mouth, he pried the top of the vial in it, letting the potion drip in the man's mouth, gently massaging the throat to have it go down as instructed, a bit nervous under the snake's glare that could have rivalled a hawk's.

~Good… now cover him and watch over him. I haven't eaten in days and need to go hunting. ~

~Is there anything for me to eat in the house? ~

~The kitchen is downstairs, along with some Muggle money Wormtail brought to buy groceries in the village with. ~

~Thank you. ~

~What is your name, servant of my master? ~

~Harrison. Harrison… Black, ~ he said, cursing himself for not thinking of something better. Once Voldemort would get even slightly better, he would immediately know who he was. He just hoped that the snake would buy it.

~Black? Yes, I know of you… several servants of my master were Blacks…~ she said thoughtfully, and then slithered away. ~Goodnight, Harrison.~ Harry released a shuddering breath. She'd been fooled… for now.

~Goodnight, Nagini. ~

Nagini had been gone for half an hour now, which had felt like an eternity, and Harry stared at the fire, his wand idly twirling in his hand. Now and then he glanced nervously at the couch to verify that Voldemort wasn't awake. He rolled his tense shoulders and glanced at the door. Nagini would return shortly, he knew. He wondered if there was a chance for him to go back to the Dursley's to get his clothes and the like, but he didn't think it would be possible. If Nagini found out that he had left Voldemort alone, she would be furious and possibly swallow him in her anger, and asking her wasn't an option either. If she said no, then he wouldn't be allowed out of the house at all anymore, and she could hardly buy his groceries… well, at least he had both his wand and money. He was glad that he had been so thoughtful as to exchange some of his Wizarding money for Muggle, and he had both now, plus the money Wormtail had left. His wand, though, was of little use here. He didn't want the Ministry to know he was here. In the past two years, the Ministry, and the Cornelius Fudge especially, had not exactly won him over with sympathy. Who knew what would happen if they interfered here? He did curse himself for not thinking long enough to take his invisibility cloak, which would have been a real asset.

The silence was getting the better of him and he jumped up, aimlessly walking around the room, flipping open random books, sitting down and standing up again, pacing on the rug in front of the hearth until he remembered that was where Nagini usually lay when she was in the house, as far as he had seen from his short, almost flash-like visions that he'd had in the past week, ever since he'd returned from Hogwarts. In the end, he sat down on the very same couch he'd avoided for the past hours, and studied Voldemort's face while the Dark Lord was asleep. What a strange thought, that before Harry lay the man who killed his parents. Yet, he couldn't seem to bring those two facts together, this man and the murders… he looked too peaceful for that, although Harry knew it was a mere illusion that was sure to change when the other would wake. While sunken in his thoughts, he didn't notice the snake that had returned, and he jumped at the sound of her voice.

~It is odd to see him in such a state,~ she whispered softly, and Harry blinked once the words had sunk in.

~Harmless?~ Harry questioned her, but she made a strange sound that he identified as laughing.

~That too… I meant… well, weak. It worries me.~

~You're… worried?~ Harry said in astonishment.

~Of course, young Black. He took care of me when I was on the verge of dying… yet now I can do nothing to aid him but give my venom, and it makes me feel hopeless… helpless.~ She said, sad and desperate.

~You care for him?~ Harry said, his disbelief apparently too evident in his tone, for she heaved her impressively sized upper body from the floor and glared at him.

~Do you doubt that, speaker? Oh, why am I even talking to you, you humans are all the same. All, except for him,~ she hissed venomously, and crouched back.

~I'm sorry.~ Harry apologised, more than a little shocked. ~I just hadn't thought… I mean, everyone always told me he was, well… not nice to be around.~

~Maybe you spoke to the wrong people,~ the snake softly said while draping herself over the couch so she could give her devoted attention to her… master? Friend? Sensing his confusion, she continued. ~I see him as a… a parent, I think. Yet sometimes, I get the feeling it is I who should protect him as if he is my hatchling…~

~Why are you telling me all this? ~ Harry frowned. ~It is not like you know me…~

~You speak. That is enough for me. It has been too long since I had contact with anyone but Marvolo.~

The teen was momentarily confused, but then she gestured to Voldemort, and he remembered the man's full name. ~How long do you think it will take for him to be healthy again? ~

~I don't know. He hasn't had the potion for three days. He first has to become accustomed to it again. A week perhaps. ~

Harry became sombre at the thought that he had to spend a whole week here. Trusting that Nagini would stay here and made sure no harm came to the man, child, whatever Voldemort was now, he walked out of the room, even less at ease when the snake began to hum slightly as if she was trying to sing the thing a lullaby. He was shocked by the amount of genuine care the snake had for Voldemort, as he had to have done something to earn it, and it changed the image he had of the man to an extent he didn't like.

Shaking his head to get rid of those thoughts for now, he explored the house, surprised by how large the manor was. Whoever had lived here –and judging by its name it had to have been inhabited by family of Voldemort at one point at least,- had been filthy rich… It made him wonder for the first time why the man had grown up in an orphanage. By the memory the diary had shown him, he'd gotten the idea that it had been about as bad as the Dursley residence. If he'd had relatives who could afford this… why hadn't he at least had funds left to him?

Harry found the kitchen and opened several cupboards and a fridge which unfortunately did not work but was still stocked full, used as another cupboard of sorts. It seemed he wouldn't have to go shopping in quite some time. On a closer inspection though, he saw that several fruits and vegetables had gone bad, but there was still enough left to last some days with. Taking everything out that he couldn't use anymore, he put it in a bin and brought it outside. He hoped Voldemort would get better soon, because he was pretty sure that the waste collection service didn't stop by this house anymore, and he didn't want to get flies everywhere. Here was to hoping that Nagini would keep the rats and mice away.

After, he made himself something warm to eat, and found it again a miracle that there was still gas and water here even if the electricity had gone. Could Wormtail have made sure of that? He didn't see the rat filling in forms and talking to gas companies. The image made him snicker, and the absurdity of his situation made him laugh even more. Here he was, Harry Potter, unable to defeat his greatest enemy because he happened to be ill, munching on some bread, rice and veggies in a run-down kitchen, thinking of Wormtail paying gas bills. He had to be going crazy for sure.

His sniggers died down until only silence hung around him, though a smile was still twitching at the corner of his mouth, especially as he imaged the Dursleys wondering where he was and how they were going to get something to eat. He supposed that Aunt Petunia's cooking skills had had to be improved since he'd spent the years at Hogwarts. He wasn't there to make their meals now anymore. Even when she had cooked while he'd been there, he hadn't been allowed to taste those meals, so he honestly couldn't remember how her cooking skills were. Speaking of cooking, he suddenly wondered whether or not Voldemort really only needed that potion. It seemed not enough to feed anybody, no matter how small. Was that why he was so thin, perhaps? Wouldn't he need nutrition, or water at least? Just in case, he made some porridge. Perhaps it would get him out of illness sooner so Harry wouldn't have to stay here for such a long time.

Carefully, he made his way up the stairs again. He'd been down for more than an hour, so he hoped that Nagini wouldn't be angry at him. When pushing the door open though, he saw that the both of them were asleep, thin arms wrapped around a part of her body as if holding a stuffed toy. Harry shook his head and put the porridge down on the low table before sitting down on the floor. Nagini occupied most of the couch, and the only other chair was the one he'd seen Voldemort sitting in, in the dreams he'd had the last few nights.

The fireplace was empty, and as the cold of the night started to seep through the room, he decided to find out how it worked, glad he'd made some campfires before on nights when he'd been thrown out of Privet Drive number 4. This hearth didn't seem to work differently from a regular campfire, thus, he put some wood and paper in before carefully lighting it with a match. With concern, he looked at the box of matches, which only held five still. If he wouldn't find any other boxes he'd have to venture into the village anyways. While he hadn't heard before of Little Hangleton, the Knight bus knew where it was, so there might live some witches and wizards here. He wouldn't be happy to run across any, if only because that would mean more people who were in possible danger with a Dark Lord on their doorstep.

Harry was very glad about that Stan hadn't asked what he was going to do here and why he didn't want to be taken back to his home, and he hoped that the guy would keep his mouth shut about it to other passengers. At least it was summer, so he would not be missed, and he was fairly certain that the Dursleys would never go to the police if it wasn't absolutely necessary, because normal people had no business with the police for anything. At least, that was what his uncle had shouted at him through the door of the cupboard at age ten when he'd suddenly found himself in another town and went to the police office to be brought back home.

He finally got the fire going, his matches now down to four. He thought that, if he just put enough wood in it constantly and tried to keep it on rather than restart it tomorrow, he might last a week with that, but he couldn't be too sure. He jumped as a body slithered up next to him, Nagini having been attracted by the warmth of the fire.

~It might be good to lay him in front of here,~ she hissed, her eyes blinking languidly as the heat washed over her. ~It is pleasant.~

Harry nodded mutedly, not thinking it would go over well if he would deny her that request. With not very carefully hidden revulsion, he wrapped Voldemort in his blankets again to hide as much of him from sight as he could, red eyes blinking open slowly for a moment and closing again as Harry picked him up. With tense arms, he carried Voldemort over to the fireplace, having half in mind throwing the thing into the fire, but knowing that he would be done for too if Nagini would the teen sat down again on the floor, holding the embryonic body as far from himself as possible without the snake noticing. He looked down in horror as Voldemort began to stir and turned his face to the fire, moving in the blankets until he'd found an apparent comfortable position, a content sound slipping past the slit of his mouth.

What was he doing here anyways? Why couldn't he just… finish it? The man himself hadn't had any problems trying to kill Harry when he was a baby, so wouldn't this be the perfect revenge? He tried to keep telling himself that it was because the man was ill, or because he might come back anyways, or because Nagini would off him, but somehow he thought that even if all of those factors were removed, he would still be sitting here, cradling Voldemort to his chest. He sighed deeply at that realisation, although he also knew that he would have to kill Voldemort in the end. He would just wait until the man wasn't ill anymore, lock Nagini in a room somewhere and try…

He shuddered, disgusted with what he held in his arms and disgusted with himself for seeing it as something it wasn't: something innocent. Rationally, he knew Voldemort wasn't innocent in the slightest, and that his current form was that of a baby did not mean that his mind wasn't that of a sixty-something-year old. –really, how old was Voldemort anyways? He wasn't quite sure… Riddle had been sixteen in his second year and that had been fifty years before so… fifty-eight? Probably, if those 'fifty years' had been an exact number and not a mere guess. He couldn't for the life of him remember the exact date and year the diary had shown him that memory of, only that it had been somewhere in June. Even then, odd happenings had apparently reached their climaxes at the end of the school year… Perhaps that was something unique for Hogwarts, like the curse on the DADA position.

It was such a shame that Remus wouldn't be able to teach again next year, but when looking at what had happened to Quirrel and Lockhart, the werewolf had had a relatively easy end to his career. He hoped for the man that there were other employers who didn't mind his furry problem so much. There had to be someone out there who wasn't as prejudiced as most parents of the Hogwarts students had been. Harry thought it ridiculous to condemn a man for a condition that affected him only one night a month, that could be somewhat controlled and wasn't his fault at all on top of all that.

Harry's head suddenly jerked upwards. In deep thought, he hadn't noticed that he'd slowly started to nod off, and he'd found his face a tad too close to Voldemort's for his liking. Shaking, he placed the man in the chair and turned that towards the fire, hoping that Nagini would be content with his excuse of needing sleep too much to hold her master.

~Why are you letting him go?~ she predictably hissed sharply, her eyes suddenly blazing with wakefulness.

~I need to sleep and don't want to topple over him,~ he answered, waiting nervously until she finally nodded slowly in a too-human gesture. Taking care not to step on her, he walked out of the room, knowing for sure he'd seen another blanket, hoping sincerely that Wormtail hadn't slept under it. It didn't look like it, crumpled in a corner as it was, but one could never know. After all his years as a rat the man might have taken to rat-tendencies so much that he'd deliberately made a nest in that corner. Harry was far too tired to search for other blankets though, and wrapped it around himself, happy when noting that, while it wasn't exactly fresh, it didn't smell like rat either, just like old blanket.

Not wanting to give the snake any reason to snap at him, he returned to the fireplace, albeit he'd have preferred to not sleep in the same room as the both of them. Nagini had slithered away from the fire again, probably having gotten too hot, and moved to the couch, leaving nothing for Harry to sleep on but the rug in front of the fire. He added another few logs, hoping it would last for a while and that he would wake up in the night so he could put more on it. Then, he lay down in such a position that he could keep an eye on the bundle on the chair. Surprisingly, he hadn't seen the man's wand yet, though he was fairly certain that he'd seen it in his dreams, so it had to be somewhere in the house… If he could find it and hide it somewhere else, saying that Wormtail had stolen it… He preferred Voldemort harmless.

Not that he knew the extent of the man's powers. For all he knew, the Dark Lord was adept at wandless magic, even in this rudimentary body. But with a wand, he most certainly had magic, so he thought he could at least take his chances. When Voldemort came to, he would recognise Harry as his enemy anyways, so it wouldn't matter if it'd anger the snake or not that he'd taken the wand away. Both snakes, that is.

Harry lay awake for quite a long time, constantly waking from the feeling of unease. He suddenly remembered that he'd completely forgotten the porridge, and decided to reheat it tomorrow. Even if Voldemort didn't want or need it, he could eat it himself.

Read and review to let me know what you think please!

I wish to give a warning though: Next wednesday, the European parliament will vote on a new copyright law that, if passed, will force websites to use filters on uploaded content for European users. Despite fanfiction being legal if not posted for profit and disclaimers are put, automatic filters would still block it as it has 'copyrighted material'. In short, I have no idea if next week I will be able to upload again or not. It depends on if the law is passed, if FFN will care -being an american website-, how soon those filters would be implemented etc. So, just wanted to give a heads-up in case everything is suddenly killed and I cannot continue writing. Hopefully, it won't come to that.