Soo, my exams are finally all over and although I have to work now instead, that means more time to dedicate to my favourite hobby ^^ Thank you so much to all of you who are with me on the journey of watching these two idiots and all that is happening around them.
I very much enjoyed reading all of your reviews, and I apologise for not having had the time to answer everyone individually this time. I promise to do so again as usual from now on :)
Enjoy!
Chapter 62 – Fireworks
The coldest month in over a decade went out with a blast, the front garden of the Weasleys covered in frosty bushes and sheet ice that had formed from puddles of previously melted snow. Inside, nothing of that could be felt. Even if the whole house wouldn't be covered in comfy warming charms, the number of people and their boisterous energy made up for the dark outside world. Sirius hadn't thought he'd ever get used to the company of other people so much after his period of isolation. He'd been mistaken. The affection of these people was contagious. It only served as an even harsher reminder of that now, he was betraying everything they stood for. He wondered how Harry did it, who was chatting away with Ron, Fred and George in front of the fireplace as if nothing was wrong in the world.
It had taken some convincing to get Harry to agree to come here after all despite declining Molly's offer yesterday, and Sirius had to promise multiple times that it was not a trick to get the teen to stay past ten o' clock in the evening. Personally, he couldn't fathom why Harry was so insistent on spending this day with Voldemort of all people. The Dark Lord was not exactly the most approachable or festive person. Even celebrating Yule had been focused around honouring magic, not enjoying the company of other people. Harry had insisted that he somehow owed the man for not celebrating his birthday last year while receiving birthday gifts himself, but Sirius somehow did not get the feeling that Harry did it out of a sense of duty.
He had mixed feelings now about his godson's involvement with the Dark Lord. Clearly, Voldemort had done much for Harry, going out of his way to ensure that the teen was protected and healthy, going so far as to take him away from those abusive Muggles and cover the boy in protective spells. On the other hand, he too had a game going on, Sirius could recognise that by the way that Harry had complained about being made to do things he didn't want. Sirius feared that once Harry's usefulness would run out, Voldemort would turn on the boy and show the cruel sides he undoubtedly had. Even James and Lily had been afraid of that in death.
He closed his eyes briefly and recalled their faces that he'd seen in the memory. Even after replaying it in his head time and time again today, he could find no falsity in it. Harry's memory had not been manipulated, nor had the ritual been a sham going by everything he knew about dark magic - which was much more than he would ever let anyone suspect.
The chime of a clock rang out, and Sirius looked up at it, slightly nervous. Half past nine now… in less than thirty minutes, he'd have to say goodbye to his godson again and hope Harry would return safely tomorrow morning. It was nerve-wrecking that Harry not only wanted to visit, but also planned on staying the night in that house, until at least breakfast.
''Harry dear,'' Molly spoke up, a broad smile on her face. ''We were planning on cutting the cake at midnight, but as you need to leave early, I thought we'd do it now so that you can bring a piece for your friend as well!'' Sirius involuntarily snorted, which hopefully no-one seemed to have heard. Harry reddened and started to stutter something about how he didn't think it was necessary. ''No no, I insist!'' Molly continued, waving her hands. ''I can't let one of my guests leave with empty hands! Besides, what is a birthday without some home-made cake?''
''Err, thanks,'' Harry mumbled as the woman quickly went to the kitchen and returned with two large pieces of a heavenly-looking chocolate cake. In his personal opinion, Sirius did not think that Voldemort was worth giving this away to, but he could hardly voice that thought.
Instead, he approached Harry and said with an innocent tone: ''Are you going to tell him just who made that?''
Would Voldemort really accept goods that came from blood-traitors? The other Weasleys seemed confused a bit at the words, whereas Harry only threw him a grin back. ''Of course, and if he doesn't like that, I'll happily watch him suffer by eating both pieces in front of him.''
''Why would your friend not like it?'' Fred asked sharply, clearly getting defensive of his mother.
Harry shrugged helplessly. ''He's a bit… peculiar. Hung out with bad friends in his youth and such, swallowed some Slytherin crap. I still somehow have to convince him that all people are born equal. I've made some good progress on that though.''
''Right, he had bad friends,'' Sirius muttered under his breath. Harry either didn't hear it or didn't deem it worthy of a reaction.
The topic slowly returned to Quidditch and racing brooms, which all participants were quite engaged in. Sirius gradually relaxed again and put his worries aside, trying to catch up on everything he'd missed while stuck in prison and Grimmauld place. The teams hadn't really changed, but their reputation had, and rumours had it that a new racing broom would soon come on the market, which was supposed to become as much of a game changer as the Firebolt had been.
''Course, it needs to get past all restrictions first, and since Percy works in-'' Ron broke off his sentence as he got two death glares from the Twins. Sirius had almost forgotten that their older brother was a taboo topic since Percy left during summer over opposing political ideals. Sirius himself was in two minds about it, as he'd never really liked the Ministry, but could also understand from a personal perspective how a fundamental difference in ideals could break up a family. Trying to avoid that with Harry was one of the reasons why he was in his current situation. Arthur and Molly did not have it so easy, as breaking away from Dumbledore like Percy wanted would then go against the beliefs of their other children.
At least Percy hadn't really caused trouble other than ignore invitations and sending no more than some rather tasteless white flowers while Arthur was in the hospital. Sirius hoped that it would not escalate when the Order would take on a more active role. The longer Voldemort did not make a move, the more agitated all members became, and the more likely an explosive action could occur. The Ministry would not like that at all, no matter for which purpose…
Too soon, it was time for Harry to leave, and with a quick, maybe slightly too desperate hug, Sirius watched his godson disappear in green flames. Harry had told him that Voldemort's house was not connected to any Floo network, so he was first going back to Grimmauld place and pick up the present before using a Portkey. It was rather disturbing that Harry had been granted a personal Portkey to summon himself to the Dark Lord's side… Sirius cheered himself up with the fact that it at least meant that Harry did not have a Dark Mark tattooed on his arm.
Fred, George and Ginny got up and moved to the kitchen, as they were arguing about cookie flavours and wanted to ask their mother for some last-minute changes - which Sirius knew was going to be fruitless, which Molly's own children really should know by now – and only Ron remained, who was staring at the fireplace with a frown.
''Not sure how I feel about Harry leaving to go to that psycho instead,'' he commented softly. Sirius almost had a whiplash at the words, staring at Ron. Hadn't Harry said that his friends didn't know yet? Maybe he hadn't understood that correctly…
''I agree completely,'' he hastened to say. ''I'm rather worried.''
''You too huh… I don't get why Harry would rather spend time with someone who clearly doesn't appreciate him instead of us.''
Sirius hummed, glad that he wasn't the only one with these thoughts. ''I don't get it either. I feel that Harry is getting played. Only a few days ago, the kiddo had an outburst about how much of a manipulative arse he is, and now insists on celebrating his birthday?'' Sirius almost said 'Voldemort', but his tongue somehow twisted itself as he tried that, probably a result of the silencing contract that left him unable to mention the Dark Lord to anyone not explicitly stated as 'safe'.
''Right, I don't understand at all,'' Ron groaned. ''And between you and me, I don't feel too comfortable with it, which is why Harry usually goes to Hermione for advice. I wonder if that was a mistake. But both times that Harry has spoken really openly about it, he burst out crying, so… yeah… I'm not good with crying people.''
Sirius narrowed his eyes. ''He made Harry cry?''
Ron shrugged. ''It's no wonder. I mean, they're not really compatible, are they? Haven't met him personally, but just from Harry's words, I can't see this going well.''
''I have met him personally, and I can confirm your words,'' Sirius growled lowly.
Ron sat up straighter. ''You've met him? Honestly?''
''Just a couple of days ago,'' he affirmed. ''Not a pleasant experience, I tell you.''
''So you know who it is?''
Sirius blinked. That question somehow seemed off. ''Sorry?'' he asked, confused. ''What do you mean 'who it is'?''
''Harry only ever talked about 'the guy he has a crush on', he never mentioned an actual name,'' Ron grinned helplessly. The grin slid off slowly, probably because Sirius suddenly felt as if he had no control over his frozen face anymore. Crush?
''I…'' he croaked. ''I think I need to go. See if I can catch Harry still before he leaves. I forgot something.''
He practically stormed towards the fireplace, ignoring Molly's yelling about also taking some cake with him. After some fumbling with the Floo powder and a string of curse words, Sirius finally arrived at his home, howling in frustration when finding it empty already. Harry would have something to answer for when he came home, that was for sure.
XxX
Completely oblivious to having just missed his furious godfather, Harry blinked against the bright light that stung his eyes upon arrival. It appeared that the bitter winter had made Voldemort relinquish to his preference for heat over his fondness of darkness. Bubble dimension or not, the weather here was still the same as outside unless Voldemort would change it with weather magic himself. The man in question sat on the floor, studying rolls of parchment that had been scattered across the low coffee table. Pleasant waves of magic rolled through the air, indicating that Voldemort was is a neutral mood, completely focused on work. Had he even realised the time?
The Dark Lord's head shot up as Harry cleared his throat. ''You came,'' he stated with slight surprise.
''I promised,'' Harry answered, and moved closer. After a moment's hesitation, he decided to sit on the floor next to Voldemort, setting his bag aside to not instantly draw attention to it. ''You are working on a day like this?''
The other pulled what looked like a map closer. ''After those hectic days, I need to catch up. Both my Death Eaters and staff cannot be left unsupervised. Barty did a decent job managing the newspapers at least, but my followers do not respect him enough to take orders. There have not been enough battles to prove his mettle in, in their eyes. The raids on the slave auctions were all quick and lethal, not exactly filled with glorious duels. To be prepared for the year to come, I have to get focused again myself and take the reigns.''
''Are you at least rested now?'' Harry asked in worry, thinking of how exhausted Voldemort had looked before.
The man grunted. ''Decently, the potion's after-effects are wearing off. It will still take a couple of days until I am physically as well as before, which I cannot wait for.''
''I admire how much of a workaholic you are, but setbacks in your health aren't going to help anyone,'' Harry sighed. ''No-one is expecting you to reveal your next grand plans on today of all days.'' Daringly, the teen resolutely started putting the sheets of parchment into a pile without being asked to.
''I told you, there is nothing special about New Year's Eve,'' Voldemort sneered, grasping Harry's wrist tightly to hinder him from continuing.
Harry met Voldemort's irritated look and raised an eyebrow. ''Is the date on which a Lord of Magic was born not significant enough to celebrate?'' he spoke, unironically.
Harry's arm was released so abruptly that the Gryffindor had to supress the urge to check if his skin had suddenly grown slimy tentacles. ''True, Dumbledore showed you those memories…'' the man hissed. ''I wasn't born into my role, your argument is invalid.''
For someone who was so egotistic, Voldemort was sure making a big deal of not celebrating. The teen didn't really understand, as Voldemort didn't appear to have something against birthdays in general, giving Harry gifts and even a trip to France, albeit it connected to work. Harry tried to think of multiple ways to tread around the topic without making it awkward. None of them were really his style. ''Do you dislike your birthday?'' he thus bluntly asked. It was probably a good thing that the present he'd bought was still in the bag. If Voldemort really had something against it, Harry wasn't going to force him to accept gifts.
The Dark Lord was silent for a while, staring at the fire, which made his ruby eyes flicker in a way that gave the illusion of actual flames dancing in his eyes. It was no wonder that so many people would be scared to death when even catching a glimpse of Voldemort. Harry tried to rather concentrate on the emotions that he was able to grasp, a strange twisting of discomfort. ''This day has meant different things to me at different points in time, rarely did it leave a positive impression. You know where I grew up, and when. In a time of turmoil and later war, Muggles did not have much time to celebrate any birthdays, least of all of the child they were most afraid of. At Hogwarts, it was much the same at first, until I gained popularity and this day became one on which I would be overloaded with superficial gifts of people who hoped to grow close to me. That was one of the reasons why I did not disclose this information anymore after I graduated, preferring to have my peace. That then became a habit. Not even Nagini knows my birth date.''
Not sure what to do with this information, Harry reached out and lightly placed his fingers on Voldemort's. ''I'm sorry that I found out without your permission,'' he said, retreating after a few seconds as the Dark Lord did not react.
''I fully blame Dumbledore, not you.'' The man heaved a deep sigh. ''Is that why you insisted on visiting me today?''
Scratching his head awkwardly, Harry admitted: ''Yeah, actually. It's just that… you gave me gifts these past two years and I never repaid you in kind as last year, I didn't yet know when you'd been born.. I never imagined that you'd have something against celebrating since you… well, since you're you.''
''Is this yet another way of saying that I think the world revolves around me?'' Voldemort asked dryly.
''How perceptive of you,'' Harry grinned. Was the other finally learning to pick up on hints?
The Dark Lord hummed and turned back to staring at the fire for a while, his emotions shifting, to Harry's surprise, into something far more pleasant. ''None of my previous reasoning applies when it comes to you, does it? You couldn't care less about currying favour with me, nor do you think I am a monster.'' The word was spoken so pensively that Harry's heart quenched. He did not think that Voldemort referred to the view any enemies from the previous war had for the Dark Lord's actual horrible deeds. No, it was stated like a fact by someone who had heard it so often that it had been ingrained in their very being, and Harry knew all too well the kind of people who would have called a much younger Tom Riddle that. Rarely did Harry wish harm on people, but he now sincerely hoped that Mrs Cole and her entire orphanage were burned to the ground.
He did face an internal moral debate however. Going by stories he'd heard, of the Dark Lord dehumanising people and bringing down terror upon an entire country with his war and hatred against those of 'lesser blood', Harry could not lie and say that Voldemort had never been a monster. The blood on his hands, the trail of pain that Voldemort had left in two generations, was not something that should be simply forgotten. Denying it would not improve future actions, as history often repeated itself. Yet that also did not take away from the fact that the man had changed both goals and methods and was constantly trying his hardest to save their society any way he thought was needed. Neither did it change the fact that Voldemort had not been born evil, and the path he'd taken was an accumulation of tragic events that could have been avoided. If the Wizarding world would have not already been so prejudiced. If he would have grown up anywhere else. If Dumbledore would not have let the assumptions about Parseltongue cloud his judgement from the very first day…
''You were not born a monster,'' Harry settled on saying. ''But you were born with a great amount of magic, so no matter when you were chosen as a Lord, you were special enough from the start that you would grow to become one no matter what.''
Special… the one childhood wish that Voldemort had wished to be confirmed and was denied. Being unique, standing out in any way he could… If Harry was good enough in judging the man's character, he could imagine that this was a craving that had started even before the desire to become immortal. His words had the desired effect, Voldemort's magic grew heavier, pressing yet comfortable, like a thick duvet that smothered you with its warmth.
''I suppose I wouldn't mind celebrating,'' Voldemort whispered. His eyes flicked over the bag that still lay innocently at Harry's side.
Supressing a smile, the teen took it and first withdrew the now slightly squashed pieces of chocolate cake. ''Not sure if you like sweets, but this was made by one of the best home bakers I know. Of course, you'll first have to swallow that this came from the Weasleys…''
''You stole this for me?'' Voldemort inquired.
''What? Why would I steal cake?'' Harry asked, baffled. ''Mrs Weasley is incredibly generous and insisted that I bring two pieces, one for me and one for my friend.''
''She doesn't know who I am. She would gain nothing from it.'' The frustration was both tangible and audible.
Harry tried to patiently remind himself that this was Voldemort's birthday and releasing a loud, suffering sigh was not going to make anything easier. ''They're Gryffindors, just please accept that Gryffindors don't have this equal-exchange system in place that your House has.'' Although the Dark Lord raised a disbelieving eyebrow, he quietly accepted that explanation and drew his wand to transfigure two blank sheets of parchment into plates.
''Considering how much ground my plans are gaining whereas the Order remains ignorant, it seems fitting that my enemies would feed me on the day that celebrates my prolonged existence,'' he gleefully stated, making matching silver forks appear. Harry admired the detail on them, a pattern of crisscrossing fine lines giving more grip on the handle. ''And I do enjoy chocolate, although bitter is preferable to sweet,'' he added, a fact that Harry filed away for future use. With his other hand, Voldemort summoned a glass and a bottle of wine from the cupboard, which poured itself. Harry didn't need to be asked whether he wanted some as well.
Not wanting to look cheap by only giving something that came from other people, Harry then withdrew the present, which he'd wrapped in light blue paper. After a bit of debating, he'd decided to take a gamble and not go with traditional Slytherin colours. From bits and pieces that he'd picked up from their dreams, Voldemort appeared to have a fondness for blue. The Dark Lord carefully took the offered package and looked it over. ''Perhaps I sometimes underestimate how observant you can be.''
''It's because half of the time, I have a brick in front of my face,'' Harry grinned, thrilled that he'd guessed right. ''But I have my moments.'' Long nails hooked under the folds and slit the paper open clean as if using a letter opener, a movement which Harry couldn't pull his eyes away from. So that was why Regulus had complained about scratches. Voldemort's hands were almost as deadly as his wand was. Good to keep in mind… Harry forced himself to pull his eyes away from the man's slender fingers and instead look at his face when the paper was pulled off and red eyes scanned the cover of the book.
''Tolkien?'' the man muttered in surprise, instantly opening the book and reading the table of contents. ''This is…'' he fell silent, leaning back so his back hit the couch. At first, Harry thought that Voldemort was simply still looking through the book, but as minutes passed, it became apparent that the Dark Lord was fully concentrating on the story - or first story? Hermione had mentioned something about it being a collection, Harry hadn't really checked before wrapping it up. Not wanting to disturb the other, Harry leaned back too and relished in the feel of magic around and the taste of chocolate in his mouth as he shovelled more of Molly's cake in.
Something caught his attention as he sat there, a few swirling shapes on what looked like white fog that drifted from one corner of the room to the fireplace and back. It didn't look like Voldemort's magic, and he wondered what it was. Over the crackling of the fireplace, it was almost as if whispers came from that side of the room too. Dismissing it as another oddity of magic, Harry instead started to sneakily glance over to Voldemort, who appeared entirely engaged in the story, his face wearing an expression of full concentration. He turned the pages with the flick of a finger while sipping from the glass he held in his other hand. Now and then, the fork levitated upwards with pieces of cake until the slice was gone. Harry was immensely glad that he'd been allowed to visit today. There was nothing quite like sitting alone in a room with the person you had feelings for.
''Evan, you're distracting me,'' Voldemort muttered suddenly, not looking up.
It took a moment of frantic wondering what he'd done, before Harry embarrassedly realised that the link went both ways. As if it was his fault that whenever he looked at Voldemort, it felt as if there was a dragon breathing fire in his chest! ''Are you going to read the whole night?'' he asked to distract the other.
''As per your advice, I am not working anymore,'' the man pointed out. ''And books are meant to be read. Unless you have another enlightening suggestion?''
''Oh, errr… I had been hoping to… talk a bit? I still had a few questions…''
''When do you not,'' Voldemort muttered, though he closed the book and laid it on the table. ''Your gift is very thoughtful,'' he mentioned. ''I was not aware that more had been written about this universe, and it is interesting to see that it is not so much an adventure story this time as a description of events. Literary, a fascinating piece. I can't imagine that you would enjoy reading it, how did you come across this?''
''Hermione knew about it,'' Harry spoke in honesty. ''I told her about your taste in books and wanted to find something similar.'' He'd expected the other to sneer at the mention of Hermione, Voldemort hadn't seemed to like it when mentioning the girl before. Once again, he was left wondering what was going on in Voldemort's head as the Dark Lord only nodded.
''Finding the best sources of knowledge available to you to solve a problem is an intelligent thing to do. Granger is useful, isn't she? Is that why she is your friend?''
Harry couldn't help chuckling now at Voldemort's attempt to pick apart Harry's relationships. ''Honestly, I disliked her a lot at first, but then Ron made her cry and got her in a very dangerous position where she could have died. Actually, you were there, weren't you? The troll incident in my first year.''
''Granger mentioned that she went to search for it. Even in my weakened state, I could detect that that was a lie, yet I never knew the full story.''
''The first time she lied to a teacher,'' Harry smugly said. ''And an experience that she, Ron and I bonded over. I figured that I had misjudged Hermione's character. She was only annoying in class because she honestly appreciated having magic and the knowledge she could gain at Hogwarts. I was a stupid kid not to see that, along with the rest of my class. She became my friend because I found out that she's a likeable person, it has nothing to do with whether she is useful or not. At first, we mostly grew closer because there weren't a lot of other people willing to give her a chance and we hung out and talked a lot. Later, I fully came to appreciate who she is at a person: passionate about topics that are important to her, caring about other people and a driving force behind getting me out of the trouble I usually find myself in.'' Once again, Voldemort did not react negatively, and Harry really did wonder what the man's problem had been with previous mentions of Hermione.
''You seem to know your friends well.''
''That's… kind of one of the points of friendship. When you like other people, you naturally try to get to know them better.''
The other hummed noncommittedly. ''You get along well with Barty, do you not? Would you say that you know him well enough to suggest a gift?'' Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise. He'd expected Voldemort to know one of his most loyal followers' tastes well enough. Barty practically followed Voldemort around like a puppy. The other interpreted his expression correctly, as he continued: ''I theoretically know what Barty wants, but he always speaks of long-term goals. Ending corruption, realising my own plans… occasionally I have gifted him a feel of my magic and once the death of his father, but I was thinking of something a tad… grander. He has faced the scorn of my other followers for staying here and taking care of me more than going out and taking on an active role. Most of his missions have been covert, single operations. Still, he has done splendid work handling the hospital issues and gathering all data I needed for publishing this scandal. Barty is a man of few needs though, so I can't imagine what would be fitting.''
''Not something material, that's for sure,'' Harry said. ''Honestly, what instantly comes to mind is simply your admiration. Yes, he is here because of your goals, but far more than that, he's here for you as a person. You're the first who ever saw Barty for who he was, made a large impression on him as a child and personally ensured that he was freed from the clutches of his father. Being recognised by you is all he'd want. If you want to make it grand… why not knock down two Chasers with one Bludger and use this as an opportunity to increase his standing among your other followers at the same time?''
''Giving him a new position for example?'' Voldemort mused, stroking his chin. ''That could work. I could gather all of my current Death Eaters in a ceremony to appoint Barty as my official right hand. He's done enough to earn that.''
''Did you ever have a right hand?'' Harry wondered out loud.
''Informally, I had a few through the years, yes. For his experience and influence, Abaraxas Malfoy was my first. After that, I took on Bellatrix as a student and there was a bit of rivalry between her and Lucius for the position for a few years before my demise. In practice, she supported me most on battlefields, whereas Lucius handled the political aspects. It does not seem fitting to grant him this title after he denounced my name however, and Bella is in prison. He's back in my good graces since Lucius played such a large role in getting rid of the slave auctions and housing the many beings and beasts that came from there, but I can never trust him fully again.''
''I was honestly a bit surprised to hear about Bellatrix,'' Harry spoke with a tad of hesitance. ''All of your other followers are male, are they not?''
Voldemort let out a displeased noise. ''It is true that there is quite a disparity, although Bellatrix was not my only female follower. Not by my choice. Magic does not differentiate between gender or race, only society does. The early separation of girl and boy dorms at Hogwarts and the culture of early marriage and expected roles in Pureblood families made it difficult for women to join actively in the war. Most who did join my ranks were half-bloods for this reason, and I could not allow those in my inner circle if I wished to uphold the ideals of my earliest and closest followers then. It's a different story now, as I will slowly try to abolish those ideals-''
''You will?'' Harry interrupted, sitting more upright. ''That's the first I hear of that! I mean, you told me that you personally don't believe in blood prejudice anymore, but I didn't know you'd finally try to convince your followers of that as well.''
Voldemort frowned. ''This should not surprise you so much. As I stated several times, Pureblood ideology was useful propaganda for the last war, but without open fighting, I can and will need people on board that are part of a broader spectrum. Hiding behind several personas, the first of them being Noctua and the second being the leader of the Hand of Magic, will enable me to enlist all kinds of mages. It is only Muggles whom we need to fear, and in part the influence that they bring into the world with the ignorance of Muggleborns. By ingraining those from a young age into our society too in the end, it will be useful to have less exclusivity. Hierarchy certainly, but casting them out altogether would decrease our population far too much. Once we separate ourselves, Half-bloods should become non-existent after all, and Muggleborns would be the only ones bringing in new magical blood and abilities, increasing our numbers.''
''Have you told any of your followers of this?''
The man chuckled. ''Of course not, we are far from that point. Gradually changing their ideas is more successful than to risk losing them over such a mundane matter. I haven't forgotten how quick Rosier was to turn on me for accepting you into my ranks. Announcing that other Half-bloods and under certain conditions even Muggleborns are acceptable company would uproot their fundamental beliefs. At least, this is what I have gathered from your explanation yesterday.''
At that sentence, Harry narrowed his eyes. ''One second. Since when exactly have you planned this all out?''
''The overall idea since before resurrecting. Considering Muggleborns, I had a couple of plans ready, depending on what would happen. If you are inquiring about my decision on how to handle breaking this news to my followers, then the answer would be today. Your words solved a dilemma I have had for a while on how to handle several facets of the problems that will arise when splitting off our society from the Muggle world. Originally, it had been my idea to reveal myself to a greater number of dark families around Ostara, when the new generation is also home for the holidays, and announce some of my plans. I have now realised that I'll need to be more subtle. You were correct, everyone has different motives for joining me, and while they may overlook some matters such as giving more rights to creatures in order to be able to practice all magic freely again, admitting that I used their own agenda against them for so long would be dangerous. I cannot count on my magic-given authority alone. While I certainly will show that I have returned, trickling information in slowly will be more effective.''
''Yeah, dark and light mages fighting is already bad enough, an uprising against you by families that were supposedly already on your side would be awful,'' Harry agreed. ''To get back on Muggleborns… I realise that during all this time, you've revealed very little to me about your thoughts on them, other than that you want to kidnap them from their parents as soon as you find out they are magical… which I still think is an utterly horrible idea.''
''Why?'' Voldemort sharply spoke. ''You know better than most wizards how it is to be a magical child in the Muggle world. You were feared, misunderstood and hurt. Only to then be dropped into the magical world without any knowledge.''
''You and me both,'' Harry calmly spoke. ''And still, we both adapted, pretty much left the Muggle world behind as soon as we could. Admittedly, I might have wanted to have more contact if my family had raised me in a loving home instead, but a lot of Muggleborns and Half-Bloods do have that. And when it comes to adapting… well, I'm sure it was easier for me than for future children if our cultures will drift apart again, but it's not like we're entirely different species – that's my opinion,'' Harry said as Voldemort scoffed. ''Look, I fully agree with you that something needs to be done about Muggles mistreating magical children, and also about the knowledge aspect, but you're instantly grasping for the most extreme option! Surely, there are milder alternatives! Where would all those Muggleborns even go to? In Britain alone, there are several born each year, you won't find adoptive families for them all. I doubt that you of all people are looking to open an orphanage!''
Voldemort physically flinched at that, making Harry instantly feel like a horrible person. ''I'm sorry,'' he mumbled. ''I'm just afraid that it'll end up like that. With the hatred against Muggleborns, I doubt many Purebloods will look forward to taking them in either.''
''Why do you think that I wish to publish these articles on how Muggleborns are treated?'' Voldemort asked in a tight voice.
Harry blinked. ''Err, same as with the hospitals, right? To make the Ministry look bad for covering up something like that, for caring more about peace than justice? To in the end have this help you in your campaign to be picked as the best candidate if you offer a solution that they couldn't?''
''That too, of course,'' the man conceded. ''However, that is not all. Right now, Purebloods see Muggleborns as the enemy. I want to show them that magical children left with Muggles are victims more than anything, to increase sympathy for them and motivate Pure-bloods to save them. That is also why I want your voice to back this up, to show that even a child considered a hero in our world was nothing more than a punching bag to a couple of hateful Muggles who were terrified of magic.''
The way it was put made the teen flinch. Harry wasn't entirely sure if he should be happy about being asked to show his weakness and play the victim, though he also couldn't' say that the image was untrue. ''There will be backlash against that narrative from Muggleborns who do have great and accepting parents,'' Harry warned. ''And I honestly can't say whether those are a minority or a majority. I don't think even you know that. You're making a whole lot of assumptions. Yes, the documentation that you showed me of this happening to other children was horrible, but these cases were from all across Europe in the span of decades.''
Voldemort did not appear convinced, so the Gryffindor continued: ''All I am saying is, maybe consider alternatives for both types of Muggleborns. Screen the parents, see if they are likely to become violent and only take the children away from those who would. With Legilimency and truth serum available, that shouldn't be too difficult, right? And for those with parents who are supportive, offer resources so that when they do enter our world, they're prepared? It would also solve the problem of some jobs no longer being necessary, like the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office. All professions that have something to do with connecting to the Muggle world are likely to become redundant in a mostly cut-off society. But the people now working in those positions are exactly the ones that could interact with the Muggle parents of magical children,'' he proposed, thinking of Arthur Weasley.
''I will… think about it,'' Voldemort spoke, rubbing his face. ''Unsolicited though your advice may be, you mentioned certain points that I could work with. We shall speak more of this in the coming month, either through the mirrors or during night-time. News about the hospitals is wearing off fast as the Ministries are not going to find a solution and they cannot simply shut down all magical hospitals across the world either. I need to move onto a new point of focus at the end of January at the latest, to have that be on the forefront of people's minds still once I reveal my presence to more potential followers.''
''How are the previous projects doing by the way? What happened with all the beings and beasts? I only know that some centaurs returned to their herds..''
''Most of them live in groups, so much the same,'' Voldemort spoke. ''My followers helped them reconnect to their lost family and friends to get them back where they belonged, of course under certain silencing contracts and other restrictions. I don't want a number of rogue Vampires for example to start killing off humans as further revenge, nor do I wish for my name to be leaked out to the magical community. They are only able to speak of it to those of their same kind for example, and limited to a small number. Additionally, I put heightened measures in place for werewolves as they are human for most of the month and I know Dumbledore has contacts to some. In either case, they are doing well, licking their wounds. I can count on their support in the future, as you have seen.''
''Right… and otherwise?'' Harry enquired, wanting to pry some information out of the Dark Lord now that he still had the chance for a lengthy one on one conversation that wouldn't be interrupted by him waking up or people entering the dorms.
Voldemort gave Harry a pensive look. ''Do you expect me to reveal all of my plans in detail to you now because of our new status?'' he asked. ''Is that included in this new deal?''
''Erhm, not necessarily,'' Harry hastily spoke. He didn't want to give Voldemort the feeling that he was using this new phase in their relationship as a means to get access to info he would have been denied otherwise. ''If you feel uncomfortable revealing something to me, you have no obligation to tell me, I'm simply asking you. Although I'd like to add that if it's something that could concern me, I'd like to know now instead of finding out later.''
The other looked affronted. ''What plans concerned you, I have been open about.''
Harry bit his lip, wondering if today was really the best time to possibly devolve into an argument. Still, after all the infuriatingly vague hints of Dumbledore, he had to finally get some concrete information. ''Even about the Prophecy?'' he thus asked. Instantly, the mood shifted, the room becoming colder and Voldemort's magic started to withdraw.
''I gave a summary of the incomplete information I have,'' Voldemort snarled back, standing up and retreating to the couch, glaring down on Harry, who did not back down.
''Yes, a summary which states I have the power to destroy you. It was important enough to you back then to try to kill me over,'' Harry reminded the man sharply. ''I have been grateful for your hesitance to do so again, but you said that you were waiting until you had more information, and I cannot believe that during all your research into various subjects, you found nothing new. I find it strange that you have lost interest in this thing altogether. Especially as you told me that only two copies exist: one in Dumbledore's hands and one in the Ministry of Magic, where Nagini happened to be last week.''
''Ah, so that is where your insecurity comes from,'' Voldemort spoke, relaxing again. After a few moments, he said: ''I knew that Dumbledore would have the same line of thought as you do now, that I would not be able to wait to finally know the full Prophecy. By sending Nagini there, and have a few of my men wandering those corridors at times, I played into Dumbledore's beliefs to have him waste resources by sending teams to guard a place that did not need it.''
''A distraction.''
''Exactly. It was more effective than I had hoped for, as it turned into this fiasco. I needed to have him focus on something, as he knows better than that I would sit idly by. I thought that the ruse of me being after the Prophecy and in turn after you, would be more believable than the truth: that I am not only focusing on Britain, nor am I starting another open war.''
''Did you ever find out more information on the Prophecy though?''
Voldemort shook his head. ''There are only four sources: both copies, the memory of Dumbledore and the one of the Seer. Of those, I can only imagine that getting access to the Seer would be easy under normal circumstances. However, Severus disclosed to me that she is a permanent resident of Hogwarts, even during summer holidays. If I could find a way to get in there, I might as well break into the Headmaster's office.''
''You do realise that I have access to her, yes?'' Harry asked. ''I even take her class, and she is pretty obsessed with predicting my death every couple of weeks. Although it's gotten less since Umbridge is in the castle. Umbridge hates Trelawney and put her on probation. As it is no secret that that toad hates me with a passion, my Divination lessons have gotten bearable. Also, Severus is there, I'm sure she would stand no chance against his Legilimency.''
The Dark Lord sighed. ''Why are you trying to make it easier for me to gain access to it?'' he asked irritably. ''Evan, in the end it would not matter what it says, since it is a fact that you are my Horcrux. Killing you is detrimental. Back when I first heard the Prophecy, I found that you were an unnecessary risk. Now… you are so much more than simply a threat. There are many other factors to consider.'' There was a slight tremor in Voldemort's voice that Harry wasn't sure if he imagined. ''Let me ask you instead… if this prophecy foretold that you will kill me… would you listen to it? Would you try?''
''Of course not!'' he spoke with more strength than he'd expected his voice to produce. Voldemort was afraid of that Harry would go after him? That was laughable. The Gryffindor had had so many opportunities and couldn't go through with any of them, instead nursing the Dark Lord back to health and joining his cause.
Voldemort merely gave a sideway glance. ''You don't know that. New information, new perspectives can always change the way you think. As long as I know that you merely have the power to do so… it does not mean that you will. There are infinite possibilities still as to the true meaning of the sentences I know now. If it becomes a certainty…'' he breathed in slowly and exhaled through his nose, anxiety sparking in the air. ''The urge to eliminate you might take over,'' the man admitted softly. His sharp nails gleamed in the light of the fire as he involuntarily flexed his fingers, and a familiar feel of dark hunger was echoed into Harry's chest as Voldemort's thoughts turned to murder.
Harry knew that those words should have sparked fear in him. The furious expression before Voldemort had cast the Cruciatus curse only a few days ago came to mind, and yet he remained calm. If the other was actively avoiding the Prophecy in order to prevent maybe getting the urge to off Harry, then the teen doubted there would be any real threat. ''Don't forget,'' he said with a weak smile I order to lighten up their conversation. ''I'm the Boy-Who-Lived. I'll do my best to live up to that stupid title.'' When Voldemort did not react, Harry got up from the floor himself and sat next to the man, closer than was strictly appropriate. ''You can ask the Locket,'' Harry continued. ''Even trying to suppress me didn't work out quite like expected, due to the piece of your soul in me. Something can be said for that, can't it? In a way, you're always trying to keep me alive and safe. No sudden urges for bloodshed can change that.''
''I might ask,'' Voldemort said, finally looking him in the eyes again, where Harry instantly got lost. ''Admittedly, it does love talking about you.''
Harry's heart stuttered and his thoughts screeched to a halt as he took in that information. Naturally, he'd expected Voldemort to get some information out of the Locket, but as nothing had really been mentioned during their past talks, he'd imagined it to have been about the Lockets' motivations, or at most Hogwarts and its residents. ''You, you talked about me with it?'' he asked with rising distress. What the hell had the Locket said?
Pale lips stretched into a grin. Voldemort leaned closer, and Harry could smell the mixture of chocolate and tangy wine on his breath. ''Naturally, it is a part of myself after all. An annoying, misguided part that I am glad I don't have to deal with anymore, but a part nonetheless, one that took up all of your time in those months I could not reach you.'' Cold fingers came up to Harry's face and grasped his chin so he could not look away without actively breaking the grip. The instant their skin touched, magic surged through his body and Harry had a difficult time keeping his thoughts straight. Through their mental link, he could feel that it affected Voldemort as well. ''I admit, I wondered if you yourself would tell me everything that transpired between the two of you. Should I be disappointed that you did not? Was it too… embarrassing?~ Harry's mouth dried out, and he didn't even know when exactly in that sentence Voldemort had switched to Parseltongue, only noticing that the last word was drawn out into a long hiss.
''You knew… all this time?'' he managed to utter with his sandpaper tongue, mortified. Here he thought that his stupid story about having snogged a Durmstrang student had actually worked… Had Voldemort been mocking him all those months, just like the Locket-Horcrux had done? The thought alone made him want to sink into the ground, but he couldn't muster up the energy to move an inch. Slowly, tendrils of magic materialised, flickering in the corners of his eyes as they encased the both of them in a dark fog.
~Ah, Evan… I wish that I could tell you that I am not easy to fool, but I believed it for a short while, after I made Severus show me that memory the first time. Rage erased my rational sense. How elated I was when finding out that I had been mistaken.~ Harry's eyes fell close and he shuddered in bliss as Voldemort pulled him close and cold fingertips brushed the bangs out of his face. The softly stroking finger pads were joined by something else that was just as cold and dry.
Only when Voldemort withdrew and the teen opened his eyes again, did Harry register that yes, the Dark Lord's lips had just been pressed against his scar. Completely frozen, he didn't know what to do. Harry had had so many daydreams and fantasies of moments like these, based partially on the diaries he'd read, yet never had he imagined that Voldemort would be so… careful and soft. Crimson eyes studied his reaction calculatingly, and the man started to withdraw, at which Harry finally sent a jolt through his body to prevent it, clinging on tighter. It felt as if his lungs were filled with the fog around them, electricity danced over his spine and Harry never wanted to lose this feeling of being alive.
''Sorry, I don't really know what to say. Or do,'' he choked out. ''Please just… give me a bit longer to figure it out?'' he whispered, burying his head in the silky robes that covered the man's chest. The only reply he received was the tightening of hard arms around him. Harry remained like that until his bones and muscles started protesting about the awkward position he was in. Even through the haze of overwhelming emotions and magic, he mustered up the courage to ask for clarification just in case he was reading too much into it. ''This kind of goes beyond friends a bit,'' Harry finally said, moving up to place his head on a bony shoulder instead.
''I realise,'' was the short answer.
''Oh,'' he only replied, still not knowing what to do. The initial feelings ebbed away a bit as their hug was prolonged and he had more space in his head to think. Only yesterday, he and Voldemort had spoken about the man's ex-lover and established that Harry was apparently too young for a relationship. So what the hell was this? ''I'm slightly confused how this fits in with our previous conversation about relationships,'' he admitted outright.
''That too, I realise,'' Voldemort sighed. ''Don't talk so much.''
''Oh excuse me,'' Harry muttered sarcastically. ''Of course I should absolutely not freak out over your mixed signals and the revelation that you've known for fucking months that I wanted to-'' A hand was clamped over his mouth and he glared at the other's stern face.
''I did not say anything before to prevent exactly this,'' Voldemort admitted, ''And I am right now trying to figure out if I should regret mentioning it more than I do.''
Gathering all of his willpower, Harry was the one to break contact and give Voldemort some space. ''Talking about it right now won't bring us many answers,'' he admitted quietly once he moved back enough to get rid of the hand in his face. ''I can feel that you're just as confused as I am now. Let's just… sleep on it, maybe?''
The Dark Lord agreed, and neither of them exchanged a word as Harry helped clean up all the scattered parchment. Voldemort carefully took the book that Harry had given him and put it on the side table next to the couch, a fancy bookmark sticking out from between the pages now. In silence, they went out of the room and walked down the corridor. Harry had the feeling that he'd lie awake all night worrying about that kiss if he went to his own room, but before he could carefully ask Voldemort to perhaps sleep next to each other with the offer of sending calming thoughts, the Dark Lord had disappeared into his bedroom and closed the door in front of Harry's face.
The teen sighed. ''Happy birthday anyways,'' he still muttered. ''And a Happy new Year.'' He then grinned wryly. ''I thought you'd said there wouldn't be fireworks.''
XxX
That had not gone as planned, Voldemort mused as he angrily undressed, cleaned his teeth and shoved Nagini out of the way so he could crawl in bed. He tried to ignore the whispered words from beyond the door, before he heard Harry shuffle away, first to the bathroom and then to his own bedroom. Nagini made a few unhappy noises about waking her, but soon cuddled up comfortably as he started stroking the top of her head. The Dark Lord tried to close off the connection that he and Harry shared as much as possible, not knowing how to handle the waves of anxiety and insecurity that Harry was sending out now. Surely, Harry was familiar enough with emotions and strong enough to deal with that on his own. Voldemort tried to turn his thoughts to other things, yet failed to do so, everything kept circling back to the past few hours.
In truth, he'd never wanted to reveal that he'd known Harry had kissed his Horcrux. He'd entertained the thought a few times, yet had decided against mentioning it to not make their situation more tense than need be. He couldn't tell why he had done so after all. Maybe there wasn't just a single cause. Both his and Harry's feelings had put him on edge as it was such unfamiliar territory, and having his birthday celebrated after many decades again had thrown him off even more. And then Harry had dropped the word 'Locket'…
The Dark Lord released a frustrated hiss and glared at the ceiling. He wasn't used to having these urges that drove to action without logic behind them. Surely, Harry's feeling had influenced his once more. Because of it, there was very little he could say for certain. Was what he felt real? Moreover, did he want it to be? Everything had been so clear-cut before. No rogue feelings beyond a few primal ones, control over the ones he'd learned through books and observation… Ever since resurrecting, it felt like he wasn't himself anymore. It led to vulnerability.
No, that was not a productive thought. Feelings meant being human, and he'd learned that that could be a desirable thing to be. He needed to be able to connect with his people if he hoped to lead. To a certain degree, he'd need to understand them, and allowing emotions into his life was a step forward. It only confused him that it started to feel more and more as if he was ruled by emotions instead of the other way around. He'd need to do something about that for certain. In the meantime, he could think of what to do with Harry. Reaching out to kiss the teen hadn't been part of his plan… However, it could be, couldn't it? Nagini had spoken of courting, and a forehead kiss could be counted amongst that. It was not an inherently romantic action, so morality was no more an issue here than embracing was. How Harry would interpret it wasn't Voldemort's problem. And if the other read more into it… well, it would be a solid way to ensure that the teen would stick close to him instead of looking for others.
'Nothing could keep me away from you willingly,' Harry had said, only a few months ago. Involuntarily, Voldemort shivered, though he could not place the emotions that had caused that reaction.
~You're fidgeting,~ Nagini hissed, displeased.
~Much happened tonight,~ he explained. ~I let Harry know that I am aware of his feelings for me.~
~About time. Humans are so slow with everything, I swear. What did he say?~
~Very typically, he panicked. Less typical, he insisted that we should not talk about it now.~
~Are you panicking?~
Voldemort glared down at his familiar. ~Of course not!~ he said, like a liar. ~I have far more important matters on my mind! Your health, my next plans, work…~ As he said so though, the only thing on his mind was how pleasant it had been to spend time with someone who appreciated his presence for no other reason than who he was. Someone willing to discuss any topic simply to talk, who engaged in interesting conversation without fear of stating their opinion. And underlying that was the fear of losing this. Every day, it could fall apart by careless words, without even his knowledge. It had happened with Regulus, with the Death Eaters who'd turned their back after his death, with Rosier… traitors everywhere, people he'd trusted.
''Magic help me,'' he whispered into the dark, not having felt so scared in years.
XxX
One sleepless night later, after tossing and turning for hours, Harry was no further in figuring out what to do than he'd been before. After the initial shock was over, he felt that it was… nice to no longer have to hide how he felt about the man. And from Voldemort's actions and the feelings that he'd been able to grasp from their mental bond, it wasn't entirely unwelcome either, only unfamiliar. The Gryffindor had no illusions that the Dark Lord would be more open for emotional conversations however, or that a single kiss on the forehead would mean they were suddenly in a relationship now.
He thus stood up early, showered and went to the kitchen to put together some breakfast, glad to see the cupboards restocked. Barty must have gone on one more shopping trip before leaving. In the end, Harry decided to roll with however Voldemort would react today. If nothing much happened… well, he had other things to do, a whole new school semester to focus on soon again during which he could healthily supress his anxiety and sadness.
Small steps, he reminded himself. As Hermione had said, love came in many forms and relationships weren't all the same fairy tale either. It was enough for now to know there was something between them, which could maybe turn into something bigger over time.
Naturally, if Voldemort had all of a sudden decided that he wanted to snog Harry against the nearest wall, he'd be all up for that as well.
That hope was dimmed when the man in question walked into the dining room and sat down without a word as Harry was setting the table for two. The teen served up breakfast, which earned him only a minimal nod. Damn, had Voldemort entirely changed his mind? Should Harry speak up?
''You did not tell me yet if you noticed anything different about your godfather after the ritual,'' Voldemort spoke up, and Harry raised an unimpressed eyebrow at this obvious attempt at making unrelated conversation.
''If talking about my recently dead and resurrected godfather is your best topic at breakfast, I'm glad I'm not here for dinner,'' he remarked, trying not to sound too bitingly. ''I can't say much about it, I only noticed in a single instance that it had any effect.'' He almost wished that he had denied seeing any results when Voldemort instantly sat up straighter and got a dangerous glint in his eyes.
''Do tell,'' he purred, leaning forward.
Harry put the cutlery down and hesitated, not wanting to reveal that he'd found out while preparing to show Sirius memories with sensitive information. He tried to describe the situation of giving Sirius a direct order, leaving out most of the context. At the moment, it looked like Voldemort wasn't very interested in context anyways. When he finished, Voldemort instantly went on a tangent about several different ways in which Harry could explore this new bond to uncover its depths and limitations, from starting with vague orders and going to specific ones, to trying to see where the limit lay in Sirius not realising he was being influenced.
''It might be similar to the Imperius curse,'' he theorised, sounding utterly fascinated. ''Wherein the person will only try to resist the order once it goes against their view of what would be normal behaviour. You need more evidence to use this against Black when the need arises.''
''I'm not going to experiment on Sirius,'' Harry sighed, continuing to eat his scrambled egg.
Voldemort hissed softly, pulling up his lips to reveal sharp teeth. ''You have the opportunity to study a magical phenomenon that might be unique on this earth!''
''Which is not more important than the feelings of my godfather, who also happens to be unique on this earth.''
''Following that logic, you should consider everyone's feelings!'' the man spoke, exasperated.
''Yeah, yeah you should! That is something I've been trying to tell you for quite some time now!'' Harry replied, getting fed up and raising his voice.
Abruptly, the other rose and made their plates vanish. ''Well apparently, I can't even consider my own feelings because I don't fucking understand them!'' Voldemort roared, slamming his palms on the table surface, causing Harry to sit still in shock at the outburst. Violent stings of pain assaulted his chest, which at first he thought to be a result of accidental magic, but which turned out to be a manifestation of Voldemort's emotions. Like approaching a wounded animal, Harry slowly rose from his chair and shuffled closer to the other, carefully wrapping his arms around Voldemort.
''You don't have to understand them,'' Harry muttered. ''Most people don't always know what they're feeling or what it means.''
''Go.'' The words was spoken so softly that Harry almost thought he'd misheard. As he looked up however, Voldemort's expression was firm. ''This is not productive for either of us now,'' Voldemort said. ''I am glad that you came, but it is time for you to leave, Evan.''
Harry's throat dried out. ''Have I done something wrong?'' he asked, trying to remain calm instead of being reduced to begging. Voldemort exhaled and put his hands on Harry's shoulders, pushing until the teen let his arms fall to his side again.
''No… no, you didn't. I cannot afford to get lost in another crisis, that is all. My followers are waiting for guidance, and I haven't been running the papers since Nagini disappeared. Life goes on. Now Magic returned my full powers, it would be unthankful to her if I turned my gaze away from my Task right away once more. You as well have goals that you need to fulfil. Practically, you may be a great wizard, but academically you are behind and this is your OWL year. Added to that, you are being faced with your own challenges due to Dolores Umbridge and the group you formed against her and her lessons. I also still want you to start acting as a front for my next campaign. Regarding us - and I won't deny that there can be an us - it will have to wait. I agreed to being your friend only days ago, Evan.''
It sounded so logical, in part even reprimanding, which was so incredibly frustrating. ''I guess this means that I won't see you again this holiday?'' he asked, already knowing the answer.
''Only in dreams,'' Voldemort replied, reaching out to card cool fingers through unruly black hair, a movement which sent goose bumps down Harry's spine. ''I shall attempt to sleep at night more regularly when I can, I just realised that with how much you are taking on, you might have need of someone to help you with your studies. Who better than I to teach you about magic?''
Harry smiled despite it all. ''I'd love that, you're a great teacher.''
This time, it was Voldemort who reached out for one last, brief embrace before he once again asked the other to leave. With a mixture of sadness and hope, Harry activated the Portkey.
I couldn't help putting more fluff in hehe. They're just too cute.
I'll see you all next chapter, and if you feel like reading something during the wait, I will be uploading a new chapter of Sugar Demon in the coming week since a few people asked me about writing a second chapter and I finally managed to do so :)
Please Read and Review!
GeMerope