In Willing Sacrifice

by GeMerope

When Harry Potter has the opportunity to erase Voldemort before the Dark Lord can resurrect, he finds out that walking a fine line between his own morality and the good of this world is more complicated than Harry could have ever imagined. Slow Burn, eventual HPLV.

61. C61 - Shifting Dynamics

I hope that everyone is staying safe and healthy, and that wherever you are in the world, this chapter will be able to cheer you up a bit ^
As promised, fluff is to come :P Many thanks again for all of your lovely reviews.

Enjoy

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Chapter sixty-one - Shifting Dynamics

It was wondrous just how fast magic could bring results. Though Voldemort kept grumbling under his breath about the inability to 'properly' celebrate, it took barely thirty minutes to clean and decorate the house, and gather ingredients that they might need. Sirius had only warily come out of his room at Harry's request and was now eyeing the Dark Lord from where he was sitting. It was hard to read his exact expression due to all the shadows and flickering light that came from the floating candles. Harry knew that his godfather had only agreed to join to watch over Harry, but the teen didn't mind. He was simply happy that he could share this moment with Sirius.

''So… was that everything?'' Harry nervously asked, looking at Voldemort for guidance. The man was stroking his pointed chin thoughtfully as he cast a glance through the veranda, eyes drifting over every sprig of holly and yew that Barty had cut from the garden. Before this, Harry had not realised that both woods were symbolic of eternal life and rebirth. It seemed that not only the phoenix feathers played a role in the unique connection between their wands.

''If you could turn back time to the twenty-first in such a way that we create no paradoxes, that would be perfect,'' came the cynical reply, at which Harry quickly rolled his eyes.

''There's nothing to be done about that,'' he replied, a bit bitingly. As if it was his fault that Voldemort had missed Yule! It wasn't as if he'd asked for Nagini to get kidnapped, nor to get involved in any of it.

The other sighed quietly, and Harry felt a wave of anxiety. Careful to not show too much affection with Sirius watching them, he moved closer to Voldemort and looked up at the man. ~It'll be fine.~ he hissed quietly. ~You honour Magic still. She didn't strike down every mage who celebrated Ostara on Easter, did she? Besides, I know of no other person who is as good at adapting rituals out of the blue than you are.~

His words appeared to have an effect. Outwardly, there was no change, but the magic and emotions he felt became less strained. Harry closed his eyes and briefly basked in the strange combination of the tangible and intangible that flowed through their link. Years ago, he would never have thought that feelings and magic were so closely entwined that one could hardly distinguish them. Even now, sometimes he felt purely raw magic, but as soon as emotions came into play, it was an odd mixture of both rather than separate feelings. He wondered how Voldemort experienced it, as Harry knew that his own magical force wasn't nearly as strong.

''Let us begin, then,'' the man commanded. ''Black, if you try to sabotage this, you're sleeping in the snow tonight, clear?''

Sirius pressed his lips together and gave a curt nod. Voldemort sank to his knees and with a snap of his fingers, all candles were extinguished, smoke filling the room with a lovely odour that mingled with the burning incense. Harry took a deep breath to taste the spicy mixture of smoke, earthiness and fresh greenery.

''On this midnight, we offer what has wrongfully been denied. Magic, I plead for your presence, to receive the late presents we bestow in your honour. The darkest day has passed, our worship lasts.''

Voldemort fell silent and Harry held his breath, wondering what the other was waiting for. He could only see the silhouettes in the room and whirling snow outside that was illuminated by the few rays of the moon that managed to find gaps in stormy clouds. He was hyper-aware of the Dark Lord's magic, an ever-present aura that reached everything within grasp, covering everything it touched like a film of oil. Harry narrowed his eyes when something in their middle, above the log around which they'd formed a circle, began to move. He couldn't quite say what it was in the few seconds he'd been able to see it, nor did he recall feeling anything in particular afterwards, but as soon as the flickering vanished, a strong surge in Voldemort's magic made him gasp and double over. The doors towards the garden were forcefully blown open, and waves of snow gusted into the room. Sirius made an unhappy noise as he was the one sitting with his back towards the garden.

''I thank you,'' the Dark Lord continued, sounding relieved. ''From Samhain to Yule, the dead have spoken. The days of sickness and mourning now over, we welcome the time of light.'' He placed his hand on the large log. Beneath his fingers, it started to spark and glow until it caught fire with a crackling noise. ''That the days may lengthen and bring with them the warmth of your new-born strength. The months of frost to come, we shall weather by turning inwards to the fire that you gave us, the fire which streams through our veins.'' The flames grew in strength in such a short time and with such intensity that Harry could hardly feel the biting frost that came from outside. ''Allow us to bask in your gift and repay you in full for the light that ensures our survival.''

At first, it was hard to see due to the radiant fire, but when Voldemort raised his hands, Harry realised that the log wasn't their only source of light. The network of veins that was usually already so visible beneath the Dark Lord's near translucent skin was glowing red and orange, as if he contained an inferno. Entranced, the teen traced the shimmering lines with his eyes, the light spreading rapidly from the man's hands to the rest of his body like a network of electric wires. Although dark robes hid much, the material was thin enough that it could not entirely contain the glow. When Voldemort spoke again, it was with an ethereal quality that was hard to place.

''Inside each of us the sun returns
This temple of worship for thee, burns
with a fire that a cold one never learns

For half a year, the darkness grew stronger
Burning clear, magic allows it no longer

Hail the flame that has no end.''

Two blazing hands reached out, one to Barty and one to him. Intrigued, Harry carefully took it. It felt pleasantly warm, a rarity for Voldemort. As soon as they touched, the light rapidly spread to his own hand, feeling like molten lava was flooding through his body. In no time at all, he himself was entirely illuminated as well. He reached for Sirius with his free hand, grasping freezing fingers to let his godfather experience the amazing magic that warmed him. The snow could not reach them anymore, melting at the doorstep from their combined heat. Harry was unable to tell how long they stayed like that, one with magic and each other. Through his mind flashed images that went too fast to fully grasp, only impressions remaining. Rays of sun, sparkling stars, icy glaziers… the magnitude of the world unfolded in his inner eye, and it was beautiful.

Voldemort stood, and though he released their hands, strings of light kept connecting them even as he walked away. The man opened a cage and grabbed a petrified, large rabbit, bringing it over to them. ''From seed to land, land to life, life to fire, fire to ash, ash to seed. Accept our offering, oh mother of magic. Avada Kedavra.'' A flash of green for a moment blinded the warm glow of the fire. The rabbit was dead before the body was consumed by the flames. With a shock, Harry recalled a memory of a dream he'd had last year around this time, of a burnt hand in a fireplace. It hadn't been a rabbit then… He'd entirely forgotten about that part when suggesting to celebrate the ritual together. Was it out of consideration that Voldemort chose to sacrifice an animal instead of a Muggle? Or simply because of a lack of time? For Harry didn't think that the man suddenly had a different view on them.

The rabbit was not the only offering however, as Voldemort sliced open his own palm and let the shining blood drip into the fire as well. The Gryffindor had seen something similar once, when Dudley was adamant to find out what was in one of the glowsticks he'd been given by Petunia for a band performance. Harry had of course been the one who'd had to scrub the mess out of the sink afterwards…

Ever so slowly, as if the Dark Lord was being drained, Voldemort's skin returning back to normal. The effect extended to all of them. With a feel of sadness, Harry felt the wondrous magic leave him and the cold settle in again. He huddled closer to the fire, although he tried not to look at the rabbit which lay amidst the flames, draped over the log. He did not have long to feel sad though, as Barty sprung up and closed the doors before gathering some cups and a large bottle of something hat smelled suspiciously alcoholic. Harry had already half relented to his fate when the stack of cups passed him by.

''None for you anymore,'' Barty mockingly said. ''Orders of our Lord. Maybe you passed out too quickly last time. I got a butterbeer for you.'' Although the comment was clearly meant to annoy him, Harry was happy to hear that Voldemort was finally taking into account Harry's wishes about not wanting to drink anything strong. Thus, he gratefully took the warm bottle and toasted with that while the adults all took gulps from some amber liquid.

After only a few sips, Barty started singing in a raspy voice, and although Harry did not understand the words, he hummed along best he could. To his pleasant surprise, Sirius' tenor joined.

''Fáilte ort féin, a ghrian nan tráth,
'S tu siubhal ard nan speur;
Do cheumaibh treun air sgéith nan ard,
'S tu máthair áigh nan reul.

Thu laighe síos an cuan na díth
Gun díobhail is gun sgáth;
Thu 'g éirigh suas air stuagh na síth,
Mar ríoghainn óg fo bhláth.''

Soon after the song ended, Harry's godfather commented: ''That's been a while. To think I'd sing it with a Death Eater of all people…'' he scoffed, shook his head and took another sip, staring thoughtfully in the fire. ''God, this brings back memories.''

Voldemort hissed at the comment. ''Don't take the word of false gods in your mouth, Black.''

Sirius glanced at Voldemort, chugged out the rest of his cup and retorted: ''Mother of Magic rest ye merry Hippogriffs doesn't have the same vibe though.''

To distract Voldemort from Sirius' inebriated talk, Harry turned to the Dark Lord, whose fingers were already flexing dangerously. ''So did it work out, you think?'' he gingerly asked. It took a moment for Voldemort to tear his hateful eyes away from Sirius.

''The offer was accepted, yes.'' Then, he switched to Parseltongue. ~And even at the start of the ritual… my magic returned to me.~

~I think I saw something. I'm not sure what…~

Ruby eyes pensively stared into his. Harry could feel the man's focus change, point only towards him...You saw source magic, welling up through the borders of our world. I am impressed.~

Those three little words shouldn't feel so good, Harry decided, disgruntled as his own feelings betraying him once again.

Voldemort's lips slowly spread into a lazy smirk that was far too attractive. In that moment, Harry realised just how much their magic was buzzing about, intertwining. The heat he'd felt before returned in full, only now it was caused by his own body. Fuck. He was immensely glad now for the butterbeer that he desperately clung onto. Anything stronger, and he wouldn't have been able to agree anymore with the few rational thoughts he had left about why it wasn't a good idea to launch himself at the man he was still angry with.

~I thought about your words from before,~ the Dark Lord hissed quietly. He leaned closer, a pale hand splayed on the stone tiles right next to Harry's. The Gryffindor could feel the iciness cross the mere inch their fingers were apart in distance. He was sure of that, if he were to touch even a single part of the man's skin, he'd be dragged into all-consuming magic again. It was tempting.

~And?~ he asked. The hiss came out far too hoarse.

~The idea intrigues me… you being less of a follower and rather counting you… what, exactly? An ally?~

~A friend?~ Harry dared to suggest. He regretted it instantly when Voldemort frowned and his feelings shifted to something… uncomfortable. ~Sorry, I… I didn't mean to-~

~I am uncertain as to the conditions I would have to fulfil under that term.~ Voldemort admitted tensely, looking away.

Harry's first instinct was to respond in the lines of 'surely you must have had friends before' but held back just in time. From everything he'd seen of both Voldemort's past and present, he doubted that the man had ever truly called someone a friend. In the orphanage, Tom Riddle had stood out and spread fear as soon as he'd been bullied, keeping the other children away. At Hogwarts, he'd been an outcast until using power to ensure a following. As those people had grown older, their children had become Death Eaters… never friends. Even with Regulus, the relationship had developed from follower to lover. There had been no room for any steps between that. The closest who might come to being considered a friend was Nagini, and she was a pet. Maybe it was because of their constructive talk from before the ritual, but Harry did not feel like backing down. Not this time.

~Well, erhm… being friends means being there for each other,~ he thus explained. Of course, he was sure that on some level, Voldemort knew this information and had observed friendships between other people. Harry found it important however, that Voldemort knew exactly what he personally thought of friendship. ~Supporting each other, giving mutual advice… And other than maybe giving each other the silent treatment when mad, friends don't punish each other and instead try to work through problems together. I guess there are certain stages to it, I'd call Dean my friend too for example, but I don't hug to greet him like I would with Ron or Hermione…~ Harry fell silent, not sure if he should have dropped the subject after all. Clearly, Voldemort was on edge about the idea of having friends.

~When I came to pick you up in summer… you embraced me in greeting too. I wondered why, then. It was not… unpleasant.~

He had simply acted on instinct then, excited to see Voldemort again and escaping from the Dursleys… Why must this be so awkward! His heart was thudding loudly when he brashly answered: ~Well, if we were to be friends, I suppose we'd have reached that stage already.~

~I understand that the idea of being friends with Lord Voldemort is daunting…~ the man remarked. ~You're nervous.~

Harry really wished he could sink into the ground right now. A gust of cold wind made him realise that they were, in fact, not alone.

''Black!'' Barty shouted. ''What do you think you are doing? You can't just-''

''They're here! Harry told me that they are here! Just a glimpse! I need to-''

Before Harry had the chance to react, Sirius had run into the garden, followed by Barty.

''I should probably not have mentioned that I buried my parents here again,'' the teen muttered in concern. ''Is he going to be alright? What about the choking spell?''

''I won't activate it for now, Barty will ensure that Black won't start searching for the exit. More importantly, we were on the topic of us.'' Inky robes fluttered past as Voldemort's arm shot out around Harry's back, only to draw him closer. Harry's previous fears had been entirely justified: as soon as the Dark Lord crossed the distance between them to hold Harry in a tight grip, the teen was overwhelmed by magic again, as if an invisible wave crashed through him. It crept into his very pores, cutting off his breath. Dark, delicious, he craved for more of it with every fibre of his being. With it came Voldemort's deep-seeded blatant possessiveness that clawed at his insides again, which Harry at the moment didn't mind nearly as much as he should. He whispered the man's name like a prayer and looked up to sharp eyes that followed his every moment.

''It seems that being friends really does have some benefits…'' Voldemort muttered, a second arm joining the first to pull Harry entirely into his chest. The Gryffindor couldn't do anything apart from clinging on, feeling the fine material of the thin robes slide through his fingers as he grabbed two fistfuls of it. His forehead was pushed against a bony shoulder, and Harry simply enjoyed everything the moment brought.

''Does that mean you accept?''

''I do,'' came the whispered reply, together with a waft of icy breath that tickled his left ear.

XxX

Friends… it was such a common word for common people. Voldemort had never counted himself amongst the weaklings who had need for such connections and had never thought he'd want to start doing so. He'd been entirely truthful when admitting that he did not know what it entailed exactly, but maybe not for the reason Harry thought. Plenty of people, especially in his first years at Hogwarts, before he'd risen to the top, had tried to label him as such. It had become known quickly that Voldemort was academically apt and loved by teachers, so many tried to befriend him in hopes of getting something out of it, be it helping them with homework or getting them out of trouble. There lay the crux of the problem… every person seemed to understand something different under the word friend.

It was not something easily defined, a term with more elasticity in its interpretation than most anything. In books, friends appeared to be people who were so compatible that they supported each other through thick and thin, going to far as to give their lives for the other as if there was some sort of magical understanding of what was mutually expected. Reality was very different indeed. Children often decided that they were going to stick together for life on the day they happened to sit in the same compartment in the Hogwarts express, and only kept hanging around those because they did not bother searching anyone else to group up with after. Voldemort had seen so often that this did not work. People did not know what to expect of each other, some putting far more value in bonds than others. It usually ended in a power play, one person being exploited by their friends, or talked about behind their back. Even if that wasn't the case, many simply dropped their old friends and made new ones as soon as someone more interesting came along. Unlike his peers, Voldemort had found it difficult to understand what was expected from different 'friends', so establishing himself as someone special had made him able to avoid all of that drama very quickly.

Before laying out clear terms, Harry had asked him to be exactly that. And still, he'd been tempted into agreeing. Why? Voldemort wasn't certain at all about this new development. It felt as if he was giving up something without getting much in return. They had already advised each other and supported each other before, had they not? Yet now, he was robbed of the ability to use volatile magic on his young Horcrux when he was displeased with Harry's actions.

Deep down, he found the answer in the form of frightening feelings that made him wish to retreat and reflect upon them. Instead of focusing on that right now, he tried to find logical advantages of this 'friendship'. Treading into this unfamiliar territory also opened up possibilities: gathering information would be easier for example. The Dark Lord knew that most people, including Harry, were often more reserved in presenting answers when they thought that punishment could follow if he became displeased. Perhaps like this, he'd be able to push for honesty. It was unfortunate that they didn't have the time to have a more in-depth conversation at this moment so he could test that theory.

Ignoring the real reason was made more difficult as he still felt slightly lightheaded from the ritual he'd performed and the magic he had been granted use of again rushed through his body. It had worked… the teen's brilliant suggestion of simply going through with the celebration had made Magic forgive his oversight. It was a weight off his chest… one that was currently being replaced by a warm body. With great reluctance, in the knowledge of that Barty would surely get worked up over nothing again if he were to see them like this, he nudged Harry away, relishing in how hazy the emerald eyes had become.

''You need to go back to Headquarters. That damned portrait might signal alarm if you don't show up in bed at all tonight.''

''Oh,'' the other said, emitting wafts of disappointment as he stood. ''Can I drop by again tomorrow?''

The hopeful voice stirred something soft within him that he hadn't known existed. ''Of course, I should have the contract finished in the afternoon. As long as you will have no trouble over there, you can visit in the evening again like today,'' he replied a bit too quickly.

A relieved, radiant smile was his answer. ''Great, thank you. For the talk, the incredible experience of this Yule ritual, for everything… Hey, I know this might seem a bit contradictory, but I'm pretty sure that Sirius would flip if he knew that we are friends now... Especially as I kind of had an angry rant about you before to him too.''

Voldemort scowled. It did make sense to not give Black another excuse to be even more of an obnoxious human being than he already was. The reason Harry gave however, did not please him in the slightest. ''Did you vent your frustration to every stranger on the street too?''

''Luckily for you, I didn't have time for that, but my owl and Sirius' Hippogriff got to listen to my woes,'' Harry grinned. The flippant answer caused ire to rise within him, until he remembered that that was probably not a good reaction. He dug deep in his memory to compare Harry's current behaviour with that of the many people he'd observed at Hogwarts. ''Are you… teasing me?'' he asked in astonishment.

''I didn't think you would catch that,'' Harry parroted Voldemort's own words from earlier that evening. It was wondrous just how fast the boy was slipping from his role as a follower into this new one. It indeed came far more natural, maybe because Harry had so many other friends…

Voldemort realised that this was one point that would cause many headaches in the near future. He wasn't the only one who held this status. In fact, he was pretty certain that the Granger and Weasley brats were considered 'best friends'. The only reason why he could swallow that down was because he knew that Harry wanted to have something else entirely in the end. It was only a first step to something that he could not yet allow. Voldemort cursed himself for unintentionally getting so interested in a teenager again. This time he did not entirely put the blame on himself though. When considering all information, from the Prophecy to their magical compatibility, he was quite sure that Magic was at work somehow. That he shied away from Divination after the disaster that led to his death, did not mean that he did not believe in fate. Far from it.

''Voldemort?'' Harry asked, and he realised that he hadn't replied other than blankly staring.

''I'm simply tired, Evan. It was a long day.''

''Right, sorry.'' The boy looked away, approaching the glass. ''Looks like they're still at the graves,'' he mumbled. ''I don't really want to disturb Sirius right now. I've got no idea what his feelings are on my moving my parents here… Another confrontation right now would not be very productive. Can I trust that you won't treat him badly?''

''If he signs,'' Voldemort curtly spoke. Their new dynamic did not instantly include every other person that the teen was close to. Black was responsible for himself, and he told Harry so.

The teen thoughtfully nodded. ''Fair enough. Though I'd hate to see either of you hurt, so it might be best not to rile him up. Or let him do so to you. I'll be going now then…''

''Evan?'' he hastily said, getting up from the floor as well, brushing off the soot that had landed on his robes during the ritual.

''Yes?''

''This doesn't mean our talks are over,'' he stated, searching for confirmation. He knew Harry… the boy may be happy right now about the progress they'd made, but one day alone and he'd start getting thoughts again about everything that was left unspoken. ''There are still quite some things left to discuss.''

Harry's face fell slightly. ''You're right. For a moment I… I forgot. You never told me your theories on what happened with the connection between me and Nagini for example. And we've got to figure some plans out too for the future regarding Sirius, the Order and more…''

''I wish to speak about Regulus too.'' He said it calmly, though he knew that Harry could most likely feel the turmoil in his mind. ''I have questions still. Perhaps we can find some time tomorrow?''

''Tomorrow, yeah…'' the teen replied, sounding none too happy about it, which did not feel pleasant at all. Should Harry not be grateful that he made more time? ''I'll see you then.'' The teen reached up to his glasses, hesitated, then let his hand fall again. ''Friends also hug goodbye usually…'' he mentioned. It was obviously supposed to come across as a casual comment, but even if Harry wouldn't have been mentally throwing bundles of nerves around, his entire stance betrayed him. Gracefully, Voldemort stepped forward and once more briefly embraced the other, this time trying to reel back his magic a bit. Harry really did fit well in his arms…

As soon as his Horcrux disappeared in a flash of blue light, Voldemort started the process of cleaning up to have something methodical to do. With care, he lifted up the remains of the yule log and the sacrifice, levitating it outside to bury it under a spot of untouched snow. After he was done, he finally approached the snow-covered graves in the far corner of his back yard. Black was kneeling, and although wet hair covered most of his face, it was clear from a dark spot on the grave right in front of him that he'd shed more than a few tears. Barty was shivering and patted Black's shoulder, only stepping away from the other man's side when he noticed Voldemort approaching.

''My Lord,'' he respectfully spoke, bowing his head.

''Get both of you inside, I wish to lock the house for tonight and sleep. You may still rest until the morning, Bartemius. After that, you'll get going on your mission.''

He turned on his heel, knowing that he could trust his follower to do exactly as he said. He should think of giving Barty some sort of a reward, the Dark Lord mused. His follower had done excellent work, taking over the role of Noctua without needing to be even asked. Harry might have an idea on what the Death Eater might like…

The rest of the night passed by in a blur. He still hadn't caught up with the lack of sleep of before, and the Yule ritual had exhausted him further. Damned brew… he very much preferred regular spells over potions due to their many side-effects. Unfortunately, they could accomplish effects that were too hard to achieve through other means, so even someone as accomplished as himself had to rely on potions from time to time. Nagini curled up against him as he slept fitfully, waking up from bizarre dreams every couple of hours. Her presence calmed him each time that he woke and felt her cold scales against his skin. After days of searching for her, he found it hard to believe that she was really back and by now relatively unharmed. The serpent was a lot more clingy than usual, both due to the traumatic imprisonment and because he did not want her in a room with multiple people at the moment, so he'd left her in the bedroom when meeting with Harry and Barty. Voldemort realised that at one point, he should allow Harry to see her again, the teen had saved his familiar after all, and had been too busy being upset for Black to pay Nagini the attention she deserved.

As morning dawned, he reluctantly got up, still feeling rather horrible. He dressed quickly in comfortable robes, knowing that it was unlikely that he'd leave the house in the next days still. As Barty had taken over his other job before, he could still afford to stay home under the pretence of illness for now, with only minimal effort through writing. It would be detrimental to his goals if he allowed his current state to affect his decisions negatively and cause long-term problems. It was better to stay away until he had a clear head again.

For a while, he sat on the bed still, inspecting Nagini. ~How do you feel today?~

~Scared,~ she simply answered, curling the end of her tail around his arm. ~I keep seeing them… I want to forget.~

~Forgetting is not the answer,~ he sighed deeply, wishing that he could just grant her request and obliviate her. Softly, he raked his fingertips across the length of her body. ~You would want to go out of the house again, get reckless… I don't want this to happen again.~ It had been her wish to be helpful and leave the safety of their base. He'd sent her to the Ministry in hopes that the Order would not have the means to truly infiltrate it to such an extent that they could keep watch over the places they thought he was interested in.

She stayed silent at that, and he wasn't sure if she was angry at him or simply tired. If only he could feel her emotions the same way as Harry's… but even if they'd go through the same rituals, they were still two different species. He'd never felt as disconnected from his companion as in this moment.

She moved again, raising her head to look at him with her unblinking stare. ~Will you eat them for me?~ she asked. ~The humans who hurt me?~

~I don't think I would be able to stomach their taste, but I'll make sure they won't breathe long,~ he promised. It would not be simple to make two Order members disappear without causing a ruckus, yet he was still determined to grant her revenge. Sometimes, Voldemort wished that he'd been born a snake, so his urge to kill would have been much easier to satisfy. No-one judged animals for their nature… Surely, not even Harry would tell Nagini off if she decided to kill another snake. Human society was an annoying burden.

~What is with Harrison?~ she suddenly inquired, as if having read his mind. ~He brought me away from that awful place. I want to thank him for it. I could smell on you that he's been here today.~

~He had to leave again. When he returns today, I shall make sure that you get some time to speak to him, dear.~

~You and he fought, I remember…~ she hissed with sadness. ~After he brought me back.~

~That's been forgotten already.~ He did not feel like trying to explain all the ins and outs of his problems regarding Harry, mostly because he was sure she would only understand half of it. Only the concept of that he was angry about Harry reading the diaries of his dead lover would already be impossible to properly get across for many different reasons, the main one being that he'd first have to explain what 'writing' was. He already had enough of a headache at the moment. The topic of Harry did make him realise that now, he finally had an opportunity to get at least one honest opinion. She'd given him advice about the teen before, surely Nagini would do so again. ~Nagini, how would you consider your relationship with Harry? What would you call it?~

She cocked her head a bit, not unlike a dog. ~We're friends, of course.~ He was taken aback a bit as Nagini hadn't even needed to think about it. She continued: ~He is nice to talk to, feeds me, adds more wood to the fire if I ask him to, and now he saved me. I felt betrayed for a while when I found out that he lied to me about who he was, but he did not act differently after, so I forgave him. I am not close enough to Harrison to consider him family yet, so I think that the term friends fits.~

~Harry told me that he also wishes to be my friend, instead of a follower. I accepted as it felt right at that moment, but I don't know if it was a good thing. I cannot make him listen to me anymore now like my Death Eaters.~

~Could you ever make him listen to you?~ She yawned and cuddled up on his lap again. ~I think you were friends before. You take care of each other, yes? The few times that you had to make him follow your orders, he did not take it well. I've heard some complaints…~

''Why does he complain to literally everyone about me?'' Voldemort muttered, irritated.

~Besides, you've told me that you want to have him as your future mate and were trying to keep others away from him until then. Being friends is better than having him as a follower, considering that.~

~My last relationship was with a follower,~ he reminded her crabbily.

~Worked out, did it?~ she snapped at him. Nagini unfurled and slid across the bed, getting into a better position to look at him that did not strain her muscles so much. ~I may not know much about how humans interact with each other, but your followers obey you because they fear you and the consequences of what will happen if they don't. Friends follow your lead because they want to. If you want to mate for life like your people apparently do, the second option sounds like a far more logical starting point.~ Sagely, Nagini added: ~Friendship can bring equality, and equal say is important. Both mates should have a say in where the nest gets build.~

~I'm absolutely certain that you made that up right this moment,~ Voldemort replied, thinking of snake's regular nesting habits. The involvement of male snakes ended at fertilisation. ~Also, you're wrong. My followers pledged their loyalty to me because they agreed to my vision and knew I am the best to lead them towards it. That is not based on fear alone. Barty follows my every order with respect and dedication because that is his wish, not because I force him to.~

~The blond one, yes?~ she asked thoughtfully, ~He is not your follower.~

Perplexed, he simply stared at her. ~Pardon?~

~He is not your follower,~ she repeated. ~You're family. He treats you like you are his parent, and you referred to him as your son multiple times in your rants. You often speak my tongue when you mutter about.~ Voldemort froze at the words. Yes, Barty had expressed before that he saw Voldemort as a sort of father figure, but the Dark Lord had always tried to actively distance himself from that. He had not wished for any familial bond to get to Barty's head, nor did he have the desire to consider anyone related to him who wasn't already dead. Nagini considered herself some sort of family too, but they'd never put a name to it, and she wasn't even human in the first place, so he could bear it without thinking about it too much.

Had he actually called Barty his son? It must be true, Nagini had no reason to lie, and he had never told her about Barty's comments. She shouldn't even know about any of it. Digging deep into his memory, he could not find any particular moment in which he had done so, although he had the vague feeling that he might have during particularly tiresome evenings when muttering about everything and the world to Nagini. Filing this information away, determined to never let Barty find out about it, he got up again and got ready for the day. It was time to check up on his prisoner. Black was the only person around now of whom Voldemort was absolutely certain of their status: enemies.

''What a night, huh?'' Black greeted as soon as he opened the door to Harry's bedroom, in which the dog currently resided. The man was at the moment doing sit-ups on the floor. ''You look like shit. Even more than usual,'' he casually continued speaking. Voldemort blinked rapidly, trying to process what was going on. Black should be scared out of his mind, the Dark Lord still held all the means to choke Black to death… ''Okay, keep quiet… more time for me to speak, great. I thought a lot about the past two days. If I sign your stupid contract today, can I go out into the garden again?''

''I'll think about it,'' he curtly spoke, deciding that Black just wasn't all right in the head. Voldemort turned on his heel again to head to the study, where he spent most of the day. He allowed Black some leeway on the choking spell to let the man down to the kitchens, which Barty should have restocked right before leaving this morning, not feeling up to preparing food himself as he got invested in calligraphic spellwork. It was an obscure branch of art magic that few people knew about or cared to learn, but Voldemort found that it was highly useful to strengthen already enchanted contracts when the very way the words were written on parchment was a spell in itself. The colour of ink, the amount of pressure, the exact degree of slanting, all of it could contribute to different results. In Black' case, he wrote the entire contract with the intent of compulsion, binding an activation charm to the line on which Black would have to sign. It was going to be far more difficult for Black to find loopholes if the contract itself charmed him in such a way that he did not wish to even search for them.

Shortly after noon, all thirty-two pages of it were at last ready. Not wanting to bother searching the house, he modified the choking spell so that it would only cease inside the very room he was in. It took Black only a few minutes to figure that out, which did admittedly speak for his intelligence. As soon as his prisoner entered, Voldemort held out the stack of parchment. ''Sign. You can read through it if you wish, but you're not in a position to negotiate.''

Black threw him a glare and sat down on the floor, eyes hushing over the pages. Voldemort used the opportunity to study the other, trying to take note of small things like ticks and reading speed. Black showed a surprising amount of self-control, most people would have started skipping parts to read faster after about twenty minutes, but Black did not speed up, clearly taking in everything with careful consideration. The largest part of the contract listed ways in which Black could not disclose information, and further specified exactly what that information was. Voldemort had also thought to add further restrictions that would impact Black's life. He was to regularly get into contact with Harry and inform the teen of any and all important details considering the Order of the Phoenix for example, as well as admit to anything he had said to other people that might have an impact on Voldemort's side. Listing Harry as the recipient of this information rather than himself was deliberate, both to extent trust to Harry after the new turns in their relationship and to make Black less likely to turn down the entire contract altogether.

''I expected it to be worse,'' Black muttered when he was finally through. He wore a heavy frown and gave Voldemort a pensive gaze. ''You're not making me spy for you?''

''If Harry determines that something is important, he'll surely tell me,'' he dismissed. ''What had you expected, that I would exploit this opportunity to make you a Death Eater?''

''Maybe? Or an unbreakable vow that ensured my death if I would break any of these rules?''

Voldemort sighed. ''I have no desire to bind you to me as an unwilling follower. I wrote this for a reason, Black, one far more important than trying to cause you harm. I am trying to be inconspicuous and cannot have someone like you revealing my location, contacts or anything else. Usually, I would have killed you, but your life was a reward for Harry, so it would defeat the point if I did so. You dying from an unbreakable Vow would have the same result. Make no mistake, breaking any point on this contract will have direct, severe results that I did not find necessary to specify in writing.''

''You are… really looking out for him, aren't you?'' Black said with a grimace. ''I did not want to believe it. What do you gain from that?''

''Plenty. Are you going to sign or not?'' he snapped, holding out a quill. With a wary glance, the other took it and pressed the tip to the parchment. Still, Black hesitated.

''Will I be able to go to the garden again?'' he quietly asked. Voldemort was uncertain why it appeared to be such an important point for Black. Was it because of the graves? Or did he think he could run? There was no need for running anymore however, the Dark Lord intended to keep his word of letting the man return home after this.

''Under supervision, you may,'' he replied. Two seconds later, Black's signature was drying on the parchment. Each letter of the document glowed up briefly as the spells took effect, binding themselves to Black's magic.

XxX

One moment, Harry was alone, pacing up and down the living room of Grimmauld place, trying to think of something to do. The next, he heard the front door open and Walburga's portrait start screaming. Heart shooting in his throat, Harry tried to quickly rehearse once more what he was going to say: Sirius went out to get groceries, no-one visited and Kreacher has hidden himself somewhere. He thought that it would be more dangerous for me to show myself than him. What, the snake? The snake is here? I don't know, no-one visited anymore. Sirius didn't reveal anything to me. Play dumb, play innocent, try not to faint from nerves… Hopefully the visitors were the Weasleys or someone else amicable.

The door opened, and Sirius enthusiastically shouted: ''Harry!'' running in to swoop him up into an embrace. ''I'm back!''

Relief flooded him, and the teen clung tightly onto his godfather. ''You're here, you're here again…'' Harry kept repeating. Although he'd put up a brave front while at Riddle house, trying to ease the mood when Sirius was around, there had always remained doubt in his mind that the man would actually make it back. So much could have gone wrong still, Sirius finding himself on the deadly end of Voldemort's wand or refusing to sign the contract that the Dark Lord understandably insisted upon. They sat down, both rather shaken, and Harry nervously cast his godfather a glance. ''So… thoughts?'' he finally asked when unable to bear the silence any longer.

Sirius clacked his tongue a few times and glanced around, eyes hushing over the walls, on which a few old portraits slumbered. Harry realised that this may not be the best place to speak. Phineas Nigellus may be the only portrait connected to Hogwarts, Sirius did not trust the other ancestors that hated him any more than Dumbledore's contact. ''We'd better head to the tapestry,'' the man decided, and Harry followed quickly.

As soon as the door of the tapestry room closed, Sirius continued speaking: ''He's something, I'll give you that… I only am not sure what that 'something' is. Only that it is different from what I expected.''

Harry couldn't help but crack a smile at that. ''I'm also still trying to figure that out.''

''No matter how much time I had there to think everything over, I can't seem to sort my thoughts,'' Sirius admitted, shaking his head. ''It's all so much. After all that happened, between being brought back from the afterlife to joining a Yule celebration… I can't let go of the fact that started it, that I tried to… That I would have succeeded in killing you if not for him. It's so surreal.''

''You didn't try to kill me though, I find that an important fact that you should not forget either. Your mind warps reality through hallucinations. After what you've been through, thirteen years of being around Dementors although you were innocent and then either being on the run or locked up, it is completely understandable. You didn't see me, so you did not recognise that you attacked me.''

''It shouldn't be understandable,'' Sirius growled, sitting down in an armchair and slamming a fist helplessly on the armrest. A cloud of dust whirled up and shimmered in the light of the sun that was going down, light that seeped through the one dirty window in the room, which looked out over the street. ''It is so frustrating. I can't help anyone if I can't even clear my own head!''

''Don't therapists exist in the Wizarding world?'' Harry asked with hesitation, sitting down as well, trying to wipe away a few old stains on the chair in vain.

Sirius shrugged. ''Mind Healers, yes, but they work at St. Mungo's and usually still try to find the underlying magical problem in order to heal it. Thing is, while the cause may be an effect of prolonged exposure to Dementors, I don't think that can be cured. Besides, I'm still convicted remember? Healer's oaths don't mean a thing for a criminal. If I'd show up at the hospital, they'd have me dragged to the Auror's office in no time.''

''And going to a Muggle therapist?''

Sirius barked out a laugh. ''Whom I'd tell what, exactly? That some ghost-like creatures tried to suck out my soul on a remote island that isn't on any maps? See you in bedlam, kiddo.'' Harry leaned back, not having any other good ideas either. The books he'd read about healing had also only focused on healing physical injuries or countering magical maladies. Nothing about improving mental health. Harry would gladly offer a listening ear to Sirius, but as he himself was part of some of Sirius' problems, that might be counterproductive. And anyone else that his godfather trusted, like Remus, could not be involved anymore now that Sirius was not allowed to speak openly due to the silencing contract. ''Listen, it's not your burden,'' his godfather reminded him. ''I will somehow deal with it. I'll try to be more careful from now on. One good part about you bringing me there was that I could finally walk in an actual field again, as a human no less. Not the shitty, tiled-up, cramped space with dying plants that my parents left me. Breathing country air, having snow-covered, real grass beneath my feet… that was indescribable.''

''I'm glad that you enjoyed it. Would it help if you could experience that again?''

Sirius started to absentmindedly bite his nails as he stared into the distance. ''I don't know. Maybe… they are there too,'' he whispered mournfully. ''In Azkaban, I often thought about how the first thing I would do when I got out was to visit their graves and pay my respects. In a way I did, visited the graveyard at Godric's Hollow in my Animagus form even before I tried to find you. It wasn't the same. People are scared to death of Grimms. Appearing at a graveyard in the shape of a gigantic black dog was less than ideal, so I had to go by night and couldn't find their headstones like that. I never had the opportunity to return as a human. It was both a shock and a blessing to find you'd moved them from their previous resting place. It was probably good that I saw them while affected by both magic and alcohol. I'm not even sure which of those packed more of a punch, Voldemort's magic was on a whole different level than I ever imagined, and that was while he wasn't even casting anything harmful. Now I experienced the feel of his magic, it feels foolish that the Order tries to take on someone of his calibre. It surely made me wonder if Dumbledore really is on the same level. Everyone always says that Dumbledore was the only person he ever feared…''

''As a kid, maybe,'' Harry said. ''Perhaps even in his teenage years still, when Dumbledore was at the height of his power and defeated Grindelwald, while Voldemort only just started on his path. Nowadays, I don't think that Dumbledore frightens him. Angers is a better description. The topic of Dumbledore usually makes him furious, and I can't really blame him. Not after my own issues with the Headmaster and knowing a few more details on how Dumbledore treated Voldemort before.''

''Albus really wants to see you dead… that wasn't a ploy or something you were made to say while he was in earshot?''

''Unfortunately not. I don't know Dumbledore's exact line of thoughts of course. Whether there is malice behind it, or if he regrets 'having' to see me dead. In either case, he'll try setting me up and justify it in some way.''

''Because you and Voldemort are… connected, right?''

''In order to kill him, I'd need to die first, basically,'' Harry shrugged sadly. ''You can trust me when I say this is definitely true. So at the very least, I will be an unfortunate sacrifice to make for the goal of ridding this country of its current Dark Lord. Not that it would help for long,'' Harry scoffed. ''Voldemort was appointed Dark Lord for a reason. As long as balance isn't restored, magic will search for another to fulfil that task.''

Sirius made a disbelieving sound. ''I admitted to him being powerful, I don't suddenly believe in a god of magic.''

''But the Yule ritual-''

''Was interesting, nostalgic and felt better than I thought it would. I did not see proof of the work of higher beings there. Only that of an extremely formidable sorcerer.''

Were Harry and Voldemort the only people who had noticed the source magic that had flickered in the room before returning to the Dark Lord after it had been taken away? Not wishing to start another argument so soon, Harry dropped the subject. ''In either case… are we… okay?'' he carefully asked. ''I know that much happened in a very short time, and now that you actually met Voldemort…'' he struggled to put his thoughts into words. ''Not sure if it's only my wishful thinking, but you don't seem as opposed to him as only a few days ago.''

Sirius got a determined look. ''I made a decision, Harry. I have been running from responsibilities for too long, failing to see the full extent of my role. James and Lily appointed me your godfather, and they are gone now. I have to… I want to take care of you best that I can. No, I don't agree with any of Voldemort's propaganda and I certainly don't like him as a person, but he is a man who acts in his own best interests. Those currently align with protecting you from Dumbledore or anyone else with harmful intent. As such, I have no choice but to offer my support, even if that means I'll help Voldemort. I only pray that James will forgive me for betraying what we stood for before…'' His voice broke. Harry had the urge to get up and hug his godfather again, only staying put as he didn't know how Sirius would react to it right now.

Instead, he focused on getting Sirius up to speed with some important information. ''I told you that I… that I spoke to my parents during the few minutes that they were alive. Maybe I should have mentioned sooner what exactly they said.'' It had the right impact: Sirius tensed up and leaned forward, wide-eyed, desperate to hear the words of his best friends. Harry hugged himself as he recalled that evening. How strange that it had only been a few months ago that his parents had stood in front of him, hugged him. ''At first, they were confused, their mind and souls not yet fully connecting. For their souls had passed on and were brought back from the realm of the dead, whereas an echo of their minds had been trapped in Voldemort's wand all this time as he'd been the one to kill them. There seemed to be a clash of information due to that. On one hand, they held onto beliefs they'd had in life, while at the same time, they had knowledge of far greater things, a greater scheme of life. Although mum still warned me against trusting Voldemort too much due to his character, both admitted that they might have been on the wrong side of the war.''

''Can you show me?'' Sirius whispered. ''The memory?''

Harry blinked. ''Are you apt at Legilimency?'' he asked in astonishment. Occlumency was one thing, but Legilimency?

Sirius shook his head in denial. ''That is a skill beyond me, I admit. This house held a great deal of old artefacts however, not all harmful ones. My father had a Pensieve in his study. As Dumbledore already had one, I didn't offer to give it away to him and as it wasn't a dark object, it wasn't thrown out either, so it's still upstairs. We could use that. That is, if you'd allow me to see the memory, of course. I understand if it's too private.'' The way he spoke the words made it clear to Harry that Sirius had only added that to be polite, absolutely desperate to witness the event himself.

Voldemort had explained a bit to Harry what he all wished to include in the silencing contract that Sirius had now signed, and was pretty sure that Sirius was not able to reveal any information related to Voldemort that he came to know from this point onwards to anyone whom Sirius was not explicitly aware of to already be privy to that information. There were of course a few negative points about this. While showing this memory would certainly solidify the truth behind Harry's words and hopefully convince Sirius further, the short conversation with his parents had also included some sensitive information. He'd desperately asked them for advice on how to cope with the knowledge of having their murderer's soul in his head, and his parents had also mentioned that they knew about Voldemort entrusting another piece of soul to his familiar. The word 'Horcrux' had not been mentioned, but Harry was sure that Sirius would be able to piece together some bits of information that he hadn't understood before. It was a heavy decision to make, considering that the Horcruxes were one of Voldemort's most important secrets.

However, it wasn't only the Dark Lord's secret anymore. The piece of soul in Harry's mind was a part of himself, a part that he wanted his godfather to understand and accept so that finally, the man would know fully who and what Harry was. Also, like that, Harry would finally be able to convincingly explain to Sirius once and for all why his life was tied to Voldemort's, and thus why Dumbledore needed Harry dead too. Shortly ago, he would have been bound by oath not to say anything about it as Voldemort had been his Lord. Now they were friends instead, Harry was of the opinion that it lay in his own discretion to decide what to tell Sirius when it also involved Harry directly. That Sirius could not speak of it to outsiders, and probably would not willingly tell Voldemort about knowing his secrets, solidified his decision of that it brought more good than not to show Sirius this memory.

''Alright, you go get the Pensieve, and I'll try to recall the memory as clearly as possible.''

Almost comically, Sirius shot out of his chair at Harry's request. ''Get the Pensieve, yes master,'' he mumbled, then shot out of the door. Perplexed, Harry stayed behind. Had he heard that correctly?

''Merlin's balls,'' the teen whispered as realisation dawned. The wording had been an order specifically directed at Sirius. Clearly, the command had triggered the connection that Voldemort had warned Harry about. He really did have power over his godfather that he hadn't had before. Was Sirius aware of it too? Or did the man think he was acting on his own? Distraught, Harry vowed to be more careful with his wording. He did not want to treat Sirius like some House-Elf…

Only a few minutes later, the other returned, carrying the Pensieve. He didn't look like anything bothered him, so Harry figured that either Voldemort had told Sirius about that this might happen, or the spells took effect in such a way that Sirius did not actually notice his own strange behaviour. ''You know how to extract a memory?'' the man cheerfully asked, clearly looking forward to this.

''Not really. I've seen it being done, but I don't know the spell for it myself. Can you teach me?''

Sirius pulled his wand. ''It will be faster if I extract it myself. I'll teach you another time. Just concentrate on the memory and I'll pull it out.''

Harry closed his eyes, imagining that night, his parents' faces, the cold touch of their hands… He tried to ignore the Necromancy ritual, feeling that that part was somehow private between Harry and Voldemort. He tried to also leave out the part of the Horcruxes just in case, but it was difficult as it was in the middle of their conversation, so he was quite certain that he did not succeed. The teen barely felt anything, a slight tickling at his temple when the wand brushed it, nothing more. Upon opening his eyes, he saw the silver strand as it mingled with the memoria fluidum, whirling around. ''I'd prefer not to see it again, if you don't mind,'' Harry croaked. He'd rather hold onto the lingering feelings and impressions of the memory rather than see every stark detail once more. Sirius nodded and carefully lowered his head into the bowl.

Minutes ticked by, during which Harry lit a few of the wall candles to combat the falling darkness, then studied the family tapestry, though he did not find many surprises on it. He saw his grandmother, Dorea Black, who had apparently not been enough of a disgrace to ban her from the family tree. Interesting. Harry had expected his grandmother to have been blasted off the tapestry as well, either after marrying a Potter or latest when taking in Sirius for a while. The name Charlus Potter was still there as well, connected with fine thread. Underneath though, there was a burned spot where James Potter once had been. Neither Harry nor his mother had made it on the tapestry for obvious reasons. Caught up in following all the lines as he was, it took a while to realise that Sirius must be done by now, who hadn't made a sound anymore. When looking over his shoulder, Harry saw that Sirius had indeed exited the Pensieve, simply standing there and looking down on the thing with a frown on his face.

''Sirius?''

The man shook his head wordlessly and took the bowl in his hands. ''That was… a lot to process again.'' Then, the man warily eyed Harry. ''You have his soul in your head?'' he muttered, sounding awed. ''And that snake too? Now the puzzle is slowly coming together.''

Calmly, Harry spoke: ''Under the contract, you can't mention this to anyone, so I figured that it would not be harmful if you knew. I do ask though that you don't let Voldemort know that you have even the slightest information on this matter, as I doubt he'll take that well.''

''I'm smarter than I look,'' Sirius grinned. ''And I already look good. Don't worry kiddo, I won't breathe a word about it. This is good news for you though, isn't it?''

''What do you mean?''

''Dumbledore kept that snake imprisoned to find a way to remove Voldemort's magic on her. If that 'magic' is really his soul, then, should we have succeeded, it would mean that it could also be removed from you.'' His triumphant expression changed quickly to worry. ''Hold on, all of Dumbledore's words about possession… he knows, doesn't he? This is why he wants to kill you?''

Harry nodded and started pacing. ''Yes, although if you are right, he may have tried to use Nagini as a guinea pig to see if the soul can be removed from its vessel. Do you think that he actually tried to find a way to get rid of it without killing the host?''

''It's possible. Dumbledore may have made mistakes, harmful ones even, yet I still refuse to believe that he is evil. Lily and James did not seem to think so either. Dumbledore would not honestly want to kill one of his students if he didn't think it was necessary. On the other hand, it does not sit well with me that he wanted Doge and Vance to try and see if inflicting pain worked after Albus himself apparently failed by using more subtle methods.''

''Neither would have succeeded anyways,'' Harry commented dismissively. ''Voldemort himself does not even know of a way to reverse the process. Once the link is established, it's forever. The soul becomes one with its vessel in a way, which is then part of the larger network. It's why I could see into his head, and into Nagini's as well.''

''Does it hurt?''

The question came unexpectantly. Even Voldemort had never expressed that concern. ''Not to me,'' Harry said. ''Well, it did at the start,'' he corrected. ''My scar would hurt whenever I came too close to him. That had less to do with his soul and more with my mother's sacrifice trying to fight that soul however. We negated that effect a long time ago. I don't actually know if the piece of soul is hurting. I… I saw it once, it appeared in my mind while I learned Occlumency and formed a mindscape. It doesn't really look healthy and it appears as if it can't talk, though it's still capable of performing magic. It saved me, once,'' Harry spoke, rather happy that he could finally speak about this now, share his troubles with someone else than Voldemort. It was a huge relief to know that Sirius couldn't relay this information to anyone else, and wouldn't do so to Voldemort. Harry of course had to be careful what exactly he said, and he would not take the word 'Horcrux' in his mouth, but speaking about the effects it had directly on him was helpful. At last, he did not need to hide any part of himself any more in front of his godfather.

''Saved you how?'' the man inquired with curiosity.

''A few months ago, some harmful entity tried to gain access to my mind, and the piece of soul in my head prevented it. Threw the other thing out and bound it.''

''Merlin, the things you get into,'' Sirius sighed, ruffling his long hair. ''If I wasn't so worried about you, I'd be proud of all the trouble you run into and conquer.''

''You can be worried and proud?'' Harry hopefully asked. A weak smile was his answer.

''Good idea. So, did you give Snape Lily's warning?''

''Yeah,'' Harry vaguely said, to not give away too much regarding Snape's allegiance. ''He wasn't happy and I told him straight that I didn't want him to act differently if the only reason why would be because my mum threatened him. So, Snape is still a nasty git who makes my potion lessons unbearable.'' He fell silent, not wanting to say much more on the matter of Snape. Sirius looked like he had a million questions still, but Harry was faster: ''We should probably come up with a cover story still for Nagini's break-out. After I was told that Vance and Doge can't remember a thing, I made the cage look like she broke out. I don't know how convincing it is though, and Voldemort once told me that Dumbledore can check for spells cast on rooms…''

''Not here,'' Sirius reassured him. ''Not under the wards of my family home. It should be safe, but I'll check your spellwork just in case. Did you also think to add traces of a breakout on the other doors of the house? The cellar entrance for example? Or the front door?''

''Cellar entrance, yes, and I also tried to make it look like she knocked over some chairs and whatnot when getting out of there. Dumbledore knows that she is intelligent, so I thought that maybe we can make it look like she threw floo powder into the fireplace and escaped using that? It's more believable than a gigantic snake escaping unseen in Muggle London''

Sirius barked out a disbelieving laugh. ''You want to tell me that it is more believable that an animal used floo powder?''

Harry crossed his arms defensively. ''You keep it in a bowl above the fireplace like most mages, it's not unfeasible that she knocked that down with her head and flicked it into the fireplace. Besides, Parseltongue is a legit language which even sounds like English to me. I don't know for sure if speaking Parsel is enough to travel by floo, but it's a possibility. And yes, Nagini is certainly intelligent enough to come up with a plan like that, or at least be instructed to do so by Voldemort in case of emergencies.''

Carding his fingers through his long hair, Sirius answered: ''Okay, how about you first try out if snake tongue works to travel by floo and then we use this as a cover story? The fireplace here is only connected to a limited amount of other homes for security of course, so you'd have to travel to the Weasleys for example and make up an excuse of why you're dropping by. If it works and you disappear, I will check the rooms and contact Dumbledore about the situation while you're away still.''

''Sounds like a plan. Won't it be suspicious that I'm gone?''

Sirius shook his head. ''It's your holidays, I can't forbid you from visiting your friends. Dumbledore might if he's your legal magical guardian, but he did not explicitly tell you that you had to remain in this house, did you?''

''I'm not bound here no,'' Harry replied, avoiding a direct answer. Phineas Nigellus had passed on Dumbledore's message of that Harry should not leave, but Dumbledore had no power over him. With everything that was going on now though, Harry did not think that now was the best time to reveal yet another piece of new information to Sirius: namely that he was Harry's legal guardian still. Voldemort had made Harry promise not to speak of it for a myriad of reasons, and Harry agreed that it would be better if Sirius could not hold that over Harry's head.

''Then it'll be better if you're not here. I can use that as a reason why I am contacting Albus about the situation now, so he can quickly check it out without you getting involved. Remember that you're not supposed to know anything about Voldemort's pet having been brought here.''

They put their plan into action quickly. Harry emptied the old bowl of floo powder and flung it into the fireplace just in case it would work. After a while, he fished the blackened pieces out again as 'proof'. Then, he replaced it with a new pot and took a pinch from the powder to floo to the Weasleys.

~The Burrow!~ he hissed, and Sirius' sceptical face turned to surprise before it vanished altogether as Harry was transported to the Weasleys' home.

They welcomed Harry with open arms and he would have felt guilty, if not for the fact that he really was happy to see they were all doing well. Mr Weasley was home now, still weak and recovering, but alive and on the mend. Ron had clearly missed him too, enthusiastically telling Harry about all the trouble that the Twins had gotten up to in only those few short days – ''Set the yard on fire in an attempt to herd the gnomes out!'' – and dug out his collection of cards to give Harry two spare ones he'd forgotten about before. Mrs Weasley insisted that Harry stay for dinner, which he agreed to as it would give Sirius more time. When the clock struck nine though, he started to get restless, wanting to go back to Grimmauld Place to shortly see Sirius still and check if it was safe to leave again. He'd promised Voldemort that he'd visit tonight…

Thankfully, the Weasleys did not express their disappointed over him leaving again for too long, and Mrs Weasley handed him the jar with floo powder. ''Here you go dearie, do come over for a visit soon again. Maybe you can come over tomorrow to celebrate the start of the new year with us? Fred and George are expanding their new line of fireworks that surely will be tested. I'm still hoping that they will ask my permission first, so I don't have to ground them after, but I don't have good hopes for that.''

''I already have other plans tomorrow, sorry,'' Harry apologised. New Year's Eve with the Weasleys sounded lovely, but he'd surely have to stay until midnight if he came over, and he did not want to miss Voldemort's birthday.

''With Sirius? He can come over too, of course!'' she insisted.

''Ah, no. A… a good friend of mine invited me,'' he stammered, sure that he was getting red. ''It's his birthday and I missed it last year. It's really important to me that I visit him this year to make up for it.''

She looked disappointed yet understanding and only nodded. ''You still have a few days afterwards too,'' she spoke thoughtfully. ''Maybe drop by then?''

''I'll try,'' he promised, before flooing back. Grimmauld place was dark, and Harry had to light up his wand to see anything. He finally found Sirius in the master bedroom, talking softly to Buckbeak. ''Hey,'' he spoke up to get the man's attention.

''Oh, Harry! Took you a while. Everything's good here, Dumbledore was in quite a state after I brought him the news and also baffled by a snake escaping through floo of all things, but it was probably the most logical option he could come up with as well. He was happy that you were visiting the Weasleys and gives you his greetings. Be careful when you return to Hogwarts though, I'm sure he'll want to speak to you soon about the snake and everything that happened.''

Harry went further into the room and bowed to Buckbeak, glad when the Hippogriff bowed its head too. ''Did Dumbledore mention what he wants to do about her escape?'' He sat down on the creaky bed next to his godfather and started stroking the sharp beak, intelligent eyes taking him in.

Sirius shrugged. ''Not really. I doubt there is much that he can do. I convinced him that checking the cellar for spells is useless as the snake broke out by itself and obviously cannot cast any spells. Checking the floo history does not work here either as it is an illegal, restricted access under the Fidelius charm that isn't on the registered floo network. At first, he wanted to contact Vance and Doge, until I told him that they didn't visit yet and had planned on starting after new year, when the festivities were over and you might not constantly be in the house anymore. That leaves Albus without any leads as of now, apart from starting all over again.''

''Fast thinking,'' Harry appreciatively spoke.

''It feels strange, lying to him like that,'' Sirius mentioned, troubled. ''Even knowing what I do now… Sure, it's for the better, but it feels wrong.''

''We can't really change the situation. It sucks, '' Harry sympathised. ''It's the same for me at Hogwarts with Ron and Hermione. I love them both, they're amazing friends and I can't stand having to be dishonest. Yet the alternative is far worse. Neither would understand in this moment, and I don't want them to resent me for choosing Voldemort's side when I can't even properly explain to them why I did. Telling them the whole truth is impossible, like it was before with you, and talking about his current goals won't be enough to convince them after all the horrible things he did. Speaking of Voldemort, I really have to go. I promised that I'd drop by again this evening, and it's getting late.''

''Should I come with you?'' Sirius asked, his brow furrowing. ''To make sure that you're… that you're safe? Crouch isn't there anymore either now, so it'll be just you and him, right?''

''I'll be totally fine, Sirius,'' Harry grinned. ''For once, I'm glad that Barty won't be present, I wanted to speak to Voldemort alone.''

''If you're sure…''

''A hundred percent. You don't need to wait up for me, it might take some hours till I return. Get some rest soon, you need it.'' Sirius did not reply, only holding out his arms to give a quick, tight hug. ''Thank you, for being on my side,'' Harry whispered. ''It means so much to me.''

''As you mean everything to me,'' Sirius whispered back. ''I'll do anything to protect you. I'm sorry that I didn't before.''

''All forgiven,'' Harry said brightly. He received a brilliant smile back, which lingered on his mind long after he activated his Portkey.

In a flash of blue, his surroundings changed, and Harry rubbed his stomach at the unpleasant feeling that Portkeys always brought. As the glow died down, Harry was not surprised to find himself in a pitch-black room again. What did surprise him, was that Voldemort did not speak up, as the Portkey should have transported him directly to the Dark Lord's side. ''Hello?'' he called out, receiving no answer. He only heard a soft, rustling sound, nothing else. Confused, Harry raised his wand and lit the tip to cast some light. Something gleamed, and Harry realised that the beams reflected on Nagini's scales, who was curled up around a deeply sleeping Voldemort. ''Didn't wait for me, huh,'' Harry muttered, slightly offended. It looked like Nagini was fast asleep as well, and he carefully moved around the bed, lowering his wand again so the light hit a pale face. The rustling was to be heard again, and Harry noticed that the noise was caused by the fabric of Voldemort's robes rubbing against the blankets, which he lay upon rather than under. It looked like he'd crashed on it and fallen asleep instantly. Just how exhausted had Voldemort been still? He'd appeared so composed yesterday…

Harry did not really wish to wake either a grumpy snake nor a probably even grumpier Dark Lord, but he'd come here on Voldemort's request, so he couldn't simply leave either. As he was debating on what to do, the man started mumbling something and moved his hand in front of his eyes to shield them from the light. Harry supressed a chuckle at how innocent Voldemort looked. He quietly knelt down at the bedside and held his breath as he studied what remained visible of Voldemort's face. Green eyes raked over smooth skin and rested on the slightly parted, pale lips. Harry fought down the urge to lean in closer and press a kiss to them. They'd just established a friendship that he wasn't about to ruin. Long fingers moved again, and he hastily went back a bit as Voldemort frowned and his eyelids slowly fluttered open, a slit of a dark red iris becoming visible. ''Turn off the light,'' he grouchily spoke.

''Thought you wanted me to come visit you?'' Harry teased. Voldemort groaned and closed his eyes again.

''That cursed potion,'' the Dark Lord lamented, which Harry figured referred to the ones that Voldemort had taken to stay awake during his search for Nagini, which he'd also drank once more to get the energy to heal her.

''Should I come back another time?'' he asked.

A suffering sigh followed his question. ''No, give me a moment.'' ~Nagini, wake up dear. Look who is here.~ Voldemort nudged the snake, who also started moving and yawned, showing off her sharp fangs.

~Harrison?~

~Hey there, how are you now?~ he gently asked her as she unfurled and slithered over Voldemort to approach him. ''Oof!'' he exclaimed, as Nagini did not stop at the edge of the bed, instead sliding across his shoulders, coiling herself around him entirely. The weight was pressing, and he was glad that he was already kneeling on the floor. Voldemort took that opportunity to turn and sit up as well, rubbing his face, blinking blearily.

~My scales don't hurt anymore,~ Nagini answered. ~I hope they'll die soon.~

Harry didn't have to ask who she meant. ~I'm glad that you're feeling better.~

~You saved me,~ she gratefully said. ~And brought me back.~

~You'd have done the same for me,~ he smiled, accepting it when she nuzzled his cheek, a cold tongue flicking over it.

~Of course.~ The matter seemed to be settled with that, as she loosened her grip on him and slithered under the bed.

''I had expected her to have more to say to you,'' Voldemort commented. ''She's been asking about you. Admittedly, she still isn't entirely well yet, so that may be why. Shall we relocate to a more comfortable place?''

''Gladly.''

They switched to the drawing room, where Harry quickly started a fire as it was freezing. He blew on his fingers to warm them even quicker. He could feel that Voldemort was even less pleased with the cold than he was. ''Maybe casting a warming charm will be quicker?'' he asked.

Voldemort made an unhappy sound. ''Warming charms are helpful, which is why I have them in the bedroom as well, but it holds nothing to real heat. I can wait.''

To offer at least a bit of warmth already, Harry sat down on the couch next to the other, happy when Voldemort leaned in minimally to bask in his body heat. Impulsively, Harry reached out and took Voldemort's hands in his own. ''Here, I'll warm you,'' he said, ignoring the nearly electrifying shocks that the gesture caused to shoot up his arms, in favour of concentrating on helping Voldemort feel a bit more comfortable. He refused to meet the astonished gaze of the other, rubbing the skin between his palms. He'd do this as well for Ron or Hermione, he reasoned to himself. Even Neville or Ginny if they were freezing so. That thought didn't entirely convince his brain to stop freaking out over the fact that he was touching Voldemort's hands intimately. It also did not help that Voldemort's emotions went from shocked to something warm and pleasant that buzzed in the air.

''You.. err, wanted to speak about some things?'' he asked, still not looking at the Dark Lord's face.

''Yesss,'' Voldemort replied softly, flexing his fingers until Harry let them go. ''A few matters were not addressed. Before I change my mind, I will be blunt and start with the one that I wish for you opinion on most. Regulus.'' At the name, the teen tensed up instantly, wondering if this touchy subject would already lead the Dark Lord breaking away from their new agreed-upon roles. ''As much as I begrudge your breach of my privacy by reading his diaries, you seem to know better than I do where it… went wrong. I still can't quite understand no matter how much I have thought about it. He never showed anything but devotion. He took my word as law.''

''I already told you, didn't I?'' Harry frowned. It was quite surprising that Voldemort wanted to talk about his past lover, considering how mad he'd been about Harry prying into it before. Therefore, the teen was hesitant now to speak of it. ''You told him that you descend from Muggles…'' he hinted.

''While true, he was smart, top of his class. We talked for months on end… Surely, he knew by then that those beliefs of blood supremacy were mere propaganda… That Magic matters more than blood,'' Voldemort scoffed.

Harry simply stared at the man for a few baffled moments. Was the other truly that delusional about the views that his followers had? That 'propaganda' had enabled Voldemort to rally a whole army to his side. ''Speaking frankly, your problem is that you always expect to be the centre of the universe.'' That hadn't come out as subtle as it had sounded in his head.

''What.'' Voldemort growled dangerously. Harry didn't flinch. If the Dark Lord wouldn't keep his word and lash out instead, Harry had every right to end this and return to Grimmauld.

''You weren't the only influence on Regulus' life. In fact, he hardly knew you at all until the last two years. Since childhood, he'd been groomed by his parents into the perfect blood purist. Intelligence is no guarantee for a person's beliefs being logical. For years and year, he was part of a circle in society that deemed anyone with only a drop of Muggle blood as lesser. You must know how deep those biases run, you fully used those to pull the majority of Purebloods towards you. From what I gathered, you were very tight-lipped about how much of that was a ruse on your part. So, Regulus moved in those social circles, thrived in them. Maybe part of that was Sirius' fault… he shielded his younger brother from the ugly sides of their parents, protected his brother while only he rebelled. But then Sirius was forced to run away, and it placed all responsibility on Regulus' shoulders, who was only too eager to take what his 'ungrateful brother' had refused. Instead of the second son who always had to prove his worth in society, he became the Heir of one of the most powerful dark families in Britain. Always having had ambition, Regulus grasped that chance with both hands and became determined to prove that he was worth it. In you, he saw the perfect future. Someone of seemingly like mind, a powerful Pureblood who had beliefs that aligned perfectly with those of the Black family whose legacy he wished to continue, and the power to make it happen. It was with this mindset that he… that he fell in love with you.'' At the word 'love', the Dark Lord's jaw clenched briefly, but there was no other indication that he'd heard it. Not for the first time, Harry wondered how much Voldemort had felt for Regulus in return, and how he'd labelled those emotions. There had to have been something if Voldemort was still so bothered by being betrayed.

Harry continued: ''During all of your talks, he found nothing that contradicted his thoughts. You spoke of magic, of a new society, of erasing muggles… and that was part of the problem. Your conversations always came back to you. Your politics, your schemes, your followers… it was a one-sided communication. Never once did you ask about his childhood or family. You didn't even know that he was engaged, did you? He broke that off to be with you, had a huge fight with his parents about it. Regulus told you nothing because he had the feeling that those petty things would only bother your grand mind. He idolised you so much… When I read his words, I did not get the feeling that your relationship was very… equal. He wanted to have something serious, yet always held back as he was a follower first. Then, right after revealing that you had created a Horcrux, making you an immortal, he found out that your dad was a Muggle. Worse, when he tried to talk to you about how that fit in with your plans for blood supremacy, you laughed it off and said that he should have known better to believe in such a thing. Everything he'd been raised to believe in crumbled within days.

So, he had a choice to make. You, or the rest of his world. In my opinion, he made the wrong choice, but I wasn't surprised when I read it. I'm sure that he loved you, but he also loved his parents, his friends and the life he'd been given. Suddenly rejecting everything he'd ever been told because things weren't adding up with a Half-blood being the most powerful mage he knew, was too much to ask. He could not find it within himself to forgive you for lying to everyone before, and also could not get over the fact that someone with tainted blood had dared to make himself immortal. So yeah. In short: you didn't listen, didn't communicate like he was your partner, and lived a lie for far too long. You expected him to choose you no matter what happened, oblivious to the fact that of course you weren't the only person in his life. And the last nail in the coffin was that you killed his House-elf, whom Regulus loved like most people love their loyal pets. Your complete disregard of that bond was what fuelled Regulus' anger. If you'd have listened even a single time to what he found important in life, you'd have known that that Elf was everything to him.''

The Dark Lord didn't answer immediately. Nothing could be read from his face either ''How could I have mended it?'' the man demanded to know without addressing any of the specific points Harry had made.

''Mend it?'' Harry repeated, thrown off. ''Er… I'm sorry to say that I don't think it could have been. You both got together under very different expectations and views. If you'd been open and honest from the start, it might never even have come to the point it did in the first place.''

Clearly, this was not what Voldemort had wanted to hear. ''There must have been something.''

''Some people aren't meant to be,'' Harry quietly spoke, thinking of his own feelings. Although he had hopes, he still did not know if it was a realistic possibility for him and the man in front of him to ever have an actual relationship as he wished to. ''You can only look back on the times that were good.''

''I don't know how,'' Voldemort admitted, frustration audible. There was a vulnerability behind his annoyance that Harry hadn't heard often. ''Each time I think of him, I am consumed by betrayal and anger on a scale I have never felt before. I don't know how to handle it! It doesn't help that you-'' he cut off and let out a short growl, looking away.

''That I… what?''

Voldemort was silent for the longest time, staring miserably in the fireplace. His magic was dancing around aimlessly, giving Harry unpleasant goose bumps. The sense of desperation gnawed at them both. ''You remind me of him, in a way. I can't put my finger on why, your personalities are so different and yet…''

''I know what you mean,'' Harry spoke, to Voldemort's clear surprise. ''One of the reasons why I kept reading was because I could relate to Regulus so much. It's odd, as he was raised in a dark pureblood family and I by my muggle relatives, but I could find a lot of similarities. We both cared deeply for Sirius, and later for you, we both had family that was distant and objectively not very healthy for us. We both loved the escape Hogwarts offered and the friends we found there… And both of us felt a large responsibility in a war that wasn't really our business. Of course, there were many differences too, as he practically leapt at the opportunity to involve himself while I did not have much of a choice. Still, reading of his experience felt like reading about a kindred soul, or maybe an alternative version of how my life could have been. I can't describe it better,'' Harry said, shaking his head. ''Maybe it was partially something planted in my head the first time that you called me Regulus. Nagini did say that I looked like him as far as she could judge.''

''I suppose you do…'' Voldemort commented absentmindedly, brooding again.

''I don't really know how you can control those emotions,'' Harry admitted. ''Other than keep trying to tell yourself that it was in the past. There's nothing that you can change about it now, and even if you had tried to act differently back then, it may have resulted in your relationship ending even sooner.'' It did not appear to be the answer that Voldemort was looking for, as he could feel the other withdraw. ''May I… ask you something personal?'' Harry gulped, not sure if he would step too much on the man's boundaries.

Voldemort raised one thin eyebrow. ''Hasn't this entire conversation been personal already?''

''It's probably more personal,'' he nervously spoke. Voldemort only waited expectantly, so he pressed on: ''Did you ever… well, have qualms about being with someone so much younger than you?''

The Dark Lord gave him an amused look for some reason, and Harry was aware of that he was flushed. As he was pretty sure that Voldemort knew at some level that Harry felt attraction, it was not a very subtle question. The teen just had to know what Voldemort's stance on it was though, especially as Harry was still younger than Regulus had been and not even of age yet, and Voldemort was over a decade older now than he'd been then. Harry knew of his own feelings, and also that Voldemort wanted to... have him, for lack of a better word, but he did not know where they stood at all regarding the age difference, which was an important aspect to many people. Harry had not fully considered it before until he'd realised that a future relationship wasn't as impossible as he had feared.

''I did not consider it a problem with Regulus. By the time we grew closer and spent time together, he was already sixteen.''

''And?'' Harry asked, confused.

''And, while laws are shaped by the present ideals and norms in a country, the opposite is true as well. By law, the age of consent is sixteen in this country regardless of when one becomes an adult. While I disregard many other laws such as those against murder and theft, I do agree with the need to protect children, so I set my moral boundary in accordance to the law in this case. Had I lived somewhere else, I may have found that too young, who knows.''

''So you draw a hard line at 'legal' or 'not legal', regardless of age difference?'' Harry asked, curious about how Voldemort's mind worked there. He recalled Aunt Petunia's scandalised gossip about middle-aged celebrities starting a romance with some 'young blonde bimbo's' in their twenties as she had called them.

''I don't see why not. I find there to be no difference in if a sixteen-year-old sleeps with someone who is one or fifty years older. It does not change anything about the act. Regarding relationships, I can understand that it may become troubling if people of different generations end up together and don't understand each other in the long term, but ironically, these kinds of laws are specifically about acts of intercourse. There are no laws against a non-physical romantic relationship with someone even younger. Marriage yes, though also only since it is usually expected that married partners engage in certain acts. I suppose this goes beyond your question though,'' Voldemort realised.

''Right,'' Harry spoke, feeling quite embarrassed to speak so openly about this topic with the recipient of his affections. However, he'd never been taught anything about any type of laws and his curiosity for it reared its head. ''One more thing, is the legal age sixteen in all of Britain then? Also in the Muggle World?''

''Not exactly. In Muggle Britain, the laws changed quite a bit over the centuries. There was a law passed in 1885 when the legal age was changed to sixteen in both the magical and Muggle world. Before, it had been thirteen. While the wizarding law did not change anymore from that point onwards, there were a few changes in Muggle law however. Same-sex relationships are not very accepted there even to this day, so the age of consent for that is higher. They changed it only last year from twenty-one to eighteen, with some people vying to drop it to sixteen as well. In the meantime, there were also some attempts to raise the general age from sixteen to seventeen several times, which was only passed in northern Ireland and again, only in the Muggle World. There's been talks of reverting it to fit with the rest of Britain again though, so I am not sure how long it will still exist. Since wizarding law has not changed for so long and is equal regardless of gender, I opted to include the current British magical law into the legislative system I created for future use.''

Harry was so mesmerised by Voldemort's knowledge that he could almost forget that he'd asked about it for personal reasons. He did find it interesting that Voldemort apparently tried to keep up to date to changes in the Muggle world as well. When he expressed this, the Dark Lord answered: ''As long as we will have contact with Muggles, it is important to know of their laws, as the ideas Muggleborns have are shaped by those, which might clash with our society. It is an often overlooked danger. The other way around, it can cause trouble as well: wizards and witches who try to live in the Muggle world may break the law there without realising it. To get back on topic and give you a final answer: it did not bother me as Regulus was legally able to consent to anything we did.''

A few passages from the diaries came to Harry's mind about what exactly they had done, and he wondered if his face could grow any hotter. It also gave him the answer he'd really been searching for: as he was fifteen right now, there was no chance at all that Voldemort would allow something to happen for a while still. On one hand, it was good to know, and on the other also slightly disappointing.

''Don't look so glum, Evan,'' Voldemort commented, and Harry could feel that the man was extremely entertained as his expense. But that could not be, it didn't make any sense. Sure, Harry could not fully hide his feelings, but Voldemort had swallowed that story from Snape about him being involved with a Durmstrang student, hadn't he? As the Gryffindor looked into deep ruby eyes, he wasn't so certain anymore.

''I'm not glum,'' he pathetically countered.

''Of course not.''

''I… I don't have time for much more talking,'' Harry tried to use as an excuse, even though he'd told Sirius it could take hours. ''Before I need to leave again, could you maybe tell me what happened between me and Nagini?'' All amusement disappeared from the Dark Lord's face instantly as the man turned serious again. ''I thought our link was stable, and I've never gotten visions from her before. So why now? And twice in such a short time? Did some spells go wrong?''

''No… I ensured that the link between us is under control,'' the man mused. ''My theory is that this never affected the one you and Nagini share. You were always able to have visions of her.''

''I never did,'' Harry protested.

''I imagine that the link between separate Horcruxes is not as strong as those each of you have with me. Due to this, you won't accidentally slip into Nagini's mind at random. However, both times that you saw her, she was in danger.''

''Not at the beginning. Both visions started when nothing was happening yet.''

''I doubt you saw the events unfold at the same time as Nagini did.''

''You mean they were delayed?''

''Yes. I've been thinking about everything you said and also what I gathered from Black. It may be hard to determine as it would only be a difference of a few minutes at most, but let me ask you this: during the second vision of Nagini, you saw that she was afraid of the two people in the room, wo then attacked her, correct?''

''Yes.''

''So when you came downstairs, rather instantly, did it look like they'd only just started casting spells?''

Harry thought about it for a while. ''No, she already had a number of injuries. So the vision I had was a sort of delayed memory that Nagini sent out the moment she was actually attacked then…'' he concluded.

''It would make sense. During her distress, her short-term memory of what had happened up to that point was sent out and received by you during your sleep, which has proven to be a sensitive time in which you are susceptible to visions. I most likely did not see either as I was awake both times. You never connected to Nagini's mind before this as she has not been in danger before while being a Horcrux.''

Harry leaned back into the couch, thinking about the implications of this. Did this mean that it could happen more often? And was it only with Nagini as she was a living horcrux as well, or would he suddenly start having dreams of those in inanimate objects too? He thought of the Locket-Horcrux, which he'd given back to Voldemort a while ago already. He honestly didn't really want to get visions of the one who had betrayed him so.

''What are you thinking about so deeply?''

''Oh, nothing,'' Harry hastened to say, not wanting to mention his problems with the Horcrux he'd kissed.

Voldemort was clearly less than impressed as he hissed out: ''I did not think that lying to each other would be allowed under our new circumstances.''

''It's not… argh, you make it sound really bad! Look, not all lies are bad per se, okay? There are white lies and omissions and other things like that.''

''Ah,'' Voldemort commented, unconvinced. ''I fail to see why you would use those. If one of my followers would-''

''But I'm not your follower anymore, I'm your friend who is asking you to trust him on this, okay?'' After the previous topic, Harry did not think it would be a brilliant idea to let Voldemort know that he'd locked lips with one of the man's Horcruxes.

''How can you ask me to trust you when you do not trust me with the truth?''

Harry ran a hand across his face and groaned loudly. ''Sometimes the truth isn't necessary to know at a certain point in time. Or at all! Remember when sometime after you came to your senses, way back when, I'd seen into your head that you liked it when I held you in your rudimentary form? I was embarrassed by having seen that, and you practically tried to torture me into telling you cause you thought I was hiding some vital info! That was a truth that I still wish I hadn't been made to say out loud.''

''So it is something embarrassing?'' Voldemort pressed on.

Harry fidgeted uncomfortably. ''Yes, actually. Please, can we drop it?'' Voldemort scowled, looking offended. ''I need to return soon,'' Harry softly stated. ''Sorry, I really did not want to leave on a bad note… Can I try to make up for it tomorrow?''

Angry zaps of magic shot through the room, so Harry almost thought that he'd ruined his own plans until Voldemort stiffly spoke: ''If it pleases you to visit me again, you may do so. I'll be here. Any particular time I can expect you?''

Harry exhaled slowly in relief that he had not screwed up his chance to return on Voldemort's birthday. ''Maybe around ten in the evening?''

Voldemort frowned and cocked his head. ''It will be New Year's Eve, don't you have other friends who are just dying to celebrate that with you?'' Despite everything, Harry was slightly happy about the amount of jealousy that dripped from the man's words.

''In fact, I do. I already was asked by the Weasleys,'' he spoke with no small amount of satisfaction. ''I told them no.'' The shock that crashed into him made him jump slightly. ''I'd rather spend it with you,'' he meekly added to ensure Voldemort that he was sincere. ''I told everyone that I'd be spending it with another friend as I missed last New Year's Eve with them.'' Harry was careful to not take the word 'birthday' in his mouth, as he wanted it to be a surprise that he even knew about it. Voldemort did not look like a person who threw a birthday party, so he did not want to make it uncomfortable.

''I won't have fireworks, or any of that other Muggle nonsense,'' Voldemort warned him still. ''Barty isn't here either. And I already told you that there is no magical significance to the day, so if you were hoping for another ritual, you are out of luck.''

''You're not going to convince me otherwise,'' Harry said, trying not to grin at the Dark Lord's attempts to dissuade him. ''I didn't want to visit for fireworks, or Barty, or rituals. I want to visit you.''

''In that case, do so at your own risk,'' came the reserved reply. It did not discourage Harry at all, who got up from the couch. ''As you were half asleep before we sat down here, you didn't give me a welcome hug,'' he grinned, trying to see how far he could push the other now that he'd managed to throw Voldemort off. ''It would be polite to remedy that now.''

He relished in the mixture of disbelief, exasperation and gratitude that wrapped around him as Voldemort got to his feet as well, and Harry sighed contently as he was allowed to wrap his arms around the man and held on tight for a minute. It was a good thing that no-one could interfere with Voldemort's morals on hugs with consent laws.

---

I hope you liked this chapter, in which Harry and Voldemort grow a bit closer again, and finally have a fresh start. (yes I know, wow, they are finally friends after 61 chapters :P) The next chapter will mainly focus on New Year's Eve and the remaining holidays, before we finally head back to Hogwarts again to pick up some plotlines!

Some notes:

- The song that Barty and Sirius sing is a winter solstice prayer from the Carmina Gadelica Vol III, no 317.

- I mainly included the whole legal stuff because some people who left comments seemed to be confused about when they would/could get together, as I said up front that I did not want this relationship to be underage. As this story plays in Britain, I will stick with british law for the definition of 'underage', as it is different in each country. In my own country, 16 is a bit of a grey area, with permission needed of legal guardians and such for example (though not entirely forbidden).
As with the drinking laws, this again reflects the state of law in 1995, not currently. Right now, the age of consent in Britain is 16 for everyone regardless of gender. The Northern-Irish law of seventeen was reverted again, and there is no differentiation anymore between hetero- or homosexual intercourse.

Please Read and Review!
xx GeMerope