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.

90. C89 - One Page

Thank you all so much for the lovely reviews again. I'm so glad people are still following this story despite the length ^^''

Enjoy!

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Chapter 90 – One page

Timing was crucial. A balance play of expectancies. The Dark Lord would grow irate by not being informed of his enemies' strategies the very moment Severus had been initiated. The former Headmaster on the other hand, clearly anticipated it would take multiple weeks to establish direct contact. It was a tricky situation. He was used to spying by now, but never before had had to pretend to be a double spy. It came with more pressure than he felt comfortable with at the moment.

Both yesterday – the day he'd received news of Dumbledore's delusions – as well as today had been spent pondering on the best course of action. Actually playing out both sides was not a possibility when his Vow bound him to one who was firmly attached to the Dark Lord… yet at the same time, Severus was loathe to give up agency to dance once more on his Lord's tight strings. Umbridge's disappearance had quickly brought comfortable power and the Minister's ear both. This entire ploy would need to make him risk giving up all of that. Why could Dumbledore not have kept his crooked nose out of Potter's business?

None of that inward restlessness was betrayed as he gazed out across the dark grounds of Hogwarts, standing still as a statue on one of the castle's many balconies in hopes that the fresh air could clear his mind. When it did not, he lifted his left arm and observed the Dark Mark instead.

Technically, Dumbledore should know that he could use it to communicate with the Dark Lord and ask for permission to apparate directly to His side. That he hadn't been asked to do so before to aid the Order was only due to the old man's concern that Severus was at risk of being killed on the spot as he hadn't been summoned in all the time his Lord had been alive again. Now he was supposed to convince the Dark Lord of his unwavering loyalty though, surely using the Mark was a more viable option than going through strings of old acquaintances to be granted an audience – which might also compromise some of those people for having traceable ties. With just how gullible Dumbledore had turned out to be regarding Potters innocence, Severus might not have such a difficult time trying to sell taking the risk of activating the Dark Mark instead of going the more careful route. Granted, he would not have if the situation was truly as Dumbledore believed, but only Severus himself could know that with certainty.

More importantly, it would tip the scale in favour of the one whom he did not wish to aggravate in the slightest. He'd chosen loyalty over death ten months ago and was not about to put the Dark Lord's patience to the test again.

Mind at last made up, he took a deep breath and put his wand to the Mark. It responded instantaneously, faded red lines turning a vivid jet black instead as a connection was established, betraying it was not as inactive as the Dark Lord pretended. The alien sensation of ink crawling under his skin and flares of warmth never failed to make Severus uncomfortable. He attempted to ignore it by getting a move on, knowing that if would receive a response, he'd be expected to make an appearance within minutes.

An unbearable heat that almost made Severus lose grip of his tightly controlled expression followed when he was halfway down the grand marble staircase leading into the Entrance Hall. Before he had recovered and taken hold of the magical pull he'd received that would act as a guiding line to the Dark Lord's location, a voice behind him called out:

''Severus, is there an issue?''

Pressing his lips together, he turned to look at Minerva, who was observing him from the top of the staircase. ''Issue?'' he repeated. ''Why would there be?''

''Since you exempted yourself from the night patrol roster, I couldn't imagine what would keep you out of bed this late otherwise,'' she replied with a hint of irritation.

''I am the Headmaster of this school now, Minerva,'' he subtly warned her. ''I have more important matters on my mind than catching students out of bed. Should you not be glad for the chance to coddle your Gryffindor brood instead of having them being properly punished when I notice their trips past curfew?''

''Matters near midnight outside of the school?'' she coolly asked. ''I hope you know what you are doing.''

''More than most,'' he bit back, then inhaled deeply to calm down. His position as Ministry-appointed interim Headmaster was only stable due to her open support. ''A mutual colleague of ours insisted I urgently rekindle some… old friendships,'' he hinted, at which her suspicion finally slid away. ''He was incredibly persistent - as usual - and would hear no protest,'' he added.

''Oh, Severus… my sincerest apologies.'' She looked at a loss of what else to say for once. Thankfully, they stood far away enough from each other that he could not see whether the look in her eyes matched the light tremble in her tone. ''I was unaware of any… contact. I myself haven't spoken to our colleague since he retired.''

''How very fortunate for you,'' he retorted, turning around and continuing his descend. He had to get past the anti-apparition wards as soon as possible. Preferably before any of the Aurors would notice either their odd conversation here or see him exit. ''Goodnight, Minerva.''

A second, sharper sting of pain ran through his left arm just before he reached the gates and Severus had to hold himself back not to run the last bit. At last, he whirled around and was carried by magic not his own towards an unknown destination. As soon as his feet connected to solid ground and he noticed his Lord's presence, Severus had the sense to instantly kneel and wait to be spoken to before inspecting where he'd arrived.

''Our new Headmaster of Hogwarts,'' came a cold mocking. ''How does the crown fit you, Severus?''

Carefully, he wondered what the correct answer to that question could possibly be. It did not escape him that the position he now held was one the Dark Lord might well wish to acquire at some point in the future. ''It is merely a borrowed crown, my Lord,'' he thus replied. ''Due to internal differing opinions, Fudge created the position of interim Headmaster and allowed McGonagall to reinstate herself as Deputy. It is… an administrative disaster. Especially when it comes to the most recent news.''

''I assume the Minister was hoping all to be settled as soon as Dolores Umbridge were to turn up again,'' the Dark Lord commented, ending with a sinister chuckle. ''A shame for Fudge that I oppose the idea of his further rule.''

Contrary to Dumbledore's beliefs, it was no surprise that the woman catching lycanthropy was all according to the Dark Lord's plans. Potter had flat-out said that she'd been captured after the stunt pulled at the Department of Mysteries and would suffer the consequences for her actions.

''For you to request to visit me personally at this hour however, what you wish to speak of must weigh heavier than the logistics of Hogwarts. Or do you truly need my advice on how to handle the news that Umbridge will not return to reclaim her throne?'' the other taunted.

''No, my Lord,'' Severus muttered. ''I come bearing news of Albus Dumbledore's latest follies.''

A soft hiss was the only reply at first, and he stiffened at the thought that the Dark Lord's murderous serpent was possibly present also. When he was at last addressed again, the change was evident. All the mocking had vanished when the man spoke: ''Rise, my friend.''

Careful not to make any sudden movements, Severus followed the command, eyes flicking over to his Lord just long enough to see the snake was indeed curled up around pale, bare feet. As he averted his gaze again, Severus noticed they were in a medium-sized study. Peering through the only window, he saw an impressive view of a bustling city through which a large river flowed. On the other side of it, electric lights illuminated a sizeable historical Muggle building that he recognised as eastern European. The view was as stunning as it was terrifying. What was his Lord doing so far abroad? Moreover, how much magic had had to be used for Severus to be practically side-apparated this far from his original location?

Severus blinked as an empty armchair slid itself backwards and a crystal glass, filled with an unidentifiable liquid, floated into his reach. Grasping it out of politeness, he held it just close enough to recognise a hint of alcohol. Some sort of test? His Lord knew very well he generally did not drink. Or was it an obscure potion, disguised as an innocent drink?

''Contrary to popular belief, not every thought that crosses my mind involves murder, Severus. And if I would attempt to poison you, Nagini's venom is far more potent than anything I could brew that is unfamiliar to someone as skilled as you.''

A hint of embarrassment threatened to creep up his neck, so he quickly sat down. ''Of course,'' he answered with a strained smile. After a moment of consideration, he dared place the glass down without taking a sip, nonetheless. ''I merely prefer keeping a clear head.''

''Sensible as always. Well? What news do you bring?''

The hint of impatience told him that the exchange of pleasantries was over. Folding his hands together and leaning back ever so slightly to not look intimidated by the other's presence, he answered: ''Dumbledore contacted me yesterday to at last reveal his grand plans for Potter to me. It was… not quite what I expected.'' There was no outward reaction, but in this close vicinity, Severus found it difficult to sit still when stifling magic froze the air at the mention of the boy.

''What plans?''

Deciding it was better to start with the good news, he carefully brushed a crease out of his robes until sure he'd found a steady voice again, then continued with: ''For one, he is convinced that currently, Potter needs saving. He is so utterly enraptured by the tale of a tragic hero he's spun for the rest of the world that he somehow managed to twist it so that now he himself clings onto the belief that Potter is the ultimate good in this world.''

''Finally, something he and I can agree on, then. What does this have to do with saving Evan?''

The statement gave him a slight pause. ''Ah… well… Dumbledore is under the impression that it is obvious that he belongs to the good side and thus, that Potter would never defect. For all that happened since the incident at the Department of Mysteries, he came up with frankly baseless theories that support what he sees as an unshakable fact: that Potter would never comply with you. Leading him to conclude that you have kidnapped the boy and his friends using means of mind-magic, threats, torture or otherwise.''

Understandably, the Dark Lord looked intrigued. ''How likely is it that he was acting?''

''I estimate that likelihood to be incredibly low. We have had… past discussions about this. His faith wavered at the end of Potter's fourth schoolyear as the boy openly used dark magic to win the Triwizard Tournament. However, the one and only time he managed to cast Legilimency to see clearly into Potter's mind, he was apparently cured of all suspicion as he found something akin to compassion. It seems he has deluded himself so far to think that all dark mages lack the ability for these kinds of emotions.'' Which was frankly insulting beyond belief. Severus knew that Dumbledore had questioned his motivations as being genuine and deemed them not selfless enough, but he'd though Dumbledore at least had had the decency to believe in the strength of Severus' love for Lily. If the old man rejected that those 'corrupted' by dark magic were human beings like any other… it either meant that Dumbledore felt Severus had never been a proper dark wizard to begin with or that any emotions he held were not true. Bitterness rose to the surface at the thought that he'd done Dumbledore's dirty work for years. It had kept him out of Azkaban after Karkaroff's accusation but at what cost?

''I need more details, then. How he explained Evan showing up at Hogwarts unaccompanied, what he believes happened in the Ministry, how Black's disappearance plays into this and most importantly, concrete plans for this… rescue action.''

''If I may interject-'' Severus spoke unwillingly. Ruby eyes narrowed, but a small nod indicated he could continue. ''This was only half of what we discussed. The second half was more disturbing. It appears that while he does wish to save Potter for now… it is only for him to die later.'' He clenched his fists in preparation for the rage that would be sure to follow. After a second, he blinked in confusion as no curses were being thrown around.

''He has literally told you this?''

Still on guard, he dipped his chin. ''Yes. Laid out his scheme word by word.''

''Excellent.''

Slowly, not entirely certain whether he'd heard correctly, he repeated: ''Excellent?''

''Severus, this information is not news to me. Due to a multitude of circumstances, I have been aware of Dumbledore's need to murder Evan in order to push through his grand plot of getting rid of me once more, for a long time now. The main problem I faced was that we lacked the absolute proof of Dumbledore being aware of this himself. I was personally certain he's known for at least four months by now, but convincing others of the same with only anecdotal evidence, especially when they have looked up to the fool for their entire lives was challenging. A few accepted it, a few did not. Having a confession in form of a memory is at least something tangible – even if memories can be tampered with. Most importantly, it will erase any last traces of doubt that I know Evan still has buried in his mind. Of course, this will mean I shall have to see this conversation for myself. Knowing you are an excellent Occlumens, I shall give you the option of either offering your mind freely or handing over a copy of the memory.''

How gracious. Why did everyone wish to have a slice of his thoughts? Severus bitterly grumbled inwardly. He knew all too well how painful being submitted to Legilimency from the Dark Lord was – the man wasn't exactly gentle – and yet he still preferred it over giving a memory away. One never knew where such a copy would land. Even if the Dark Lord were to extract his own memory of viewing it in Severus' mind, there would be distorted details, making it feel less personal.

''Legilimency,'' he thus said. After a moment of internal struggle, he picked up the previously abandoned glass and threw it back to dull his own senses at least slightly. He hated the smell, the burn, the associated memories… but he currently did not carry any potions that would help take the sharp edges off the dagger that was about to be plunged into his mind. His Lord showed no reaction, merely waiting until Severus at last met his eyes for more than a careful second.

It was worse than the recalled. It was always worse, he corrected himself. No mental recollection of pain ever compared to the fresh feeling, a sure flaw in design of the human mind. He attempted not to fight back as images and sounds flashed by. At least the Dark Lord held to his word, Severus tried to console himself as a splitting headache blurred the picture of his meeting with Dumbledore the day prior. He'd gone straight for the desired memory without prying more than necessary. Both a skill worthy of note and a gesture to appreciate.

It was hard to keep himself together and Severus registered his physical body slumping in the chair, hand slipping – he should have put the glass down, it was going to break. Broken glassware, broken plates at the wall, harsh sounds and shouting, huddling in a corner, helplessness, help, anyone-

With a gasp, he took control back over his thoughts as the foreign presence retreated with a last sting. Severus struggled to put himself back together to appear as collected and pristine as before, yet couldn't avert his eyes from the shards on the floor next to his chair.

''You are not usually this shaken, Severus,'' his Lord observed. ''The last few times you granted me access barely had an impact. What changed?''

Loyalty or not, the man who'd killed the woman he loved was not the first person Severus wished to spill his heart out to. Unfortunately, unanswered questions were never appreciated. ''Dumbledore's confession,'' he admitted. ''He- he promised me salvation in protecting her son. To not have her sacrifice be wasted and ensure he lives. But Lily did not sacrifice herself only so Harry could die before he even becomes an adult!'' he burst out, finally giving up and pressing his hands against his eyes. ''She would have wanted him to live as long as possible,'' he whispered. ''Safe and content. And what did I do? I believed Dumbledore's lies. He put the boy with abusive family, spread the tale of his heroism before he could walk, then raised him for slaughter and all I did was hate Potter for his father the moment he walked through the doors of Hogwarts.'' It was disgraceful… but as much as he'd attempted to correct his view since discovering some of Potter's true character during the Occlumency sessions, it felt like an insurmountable task. Breathing deep and slow, he managed to shed the pitiful display and composed himself again, wiping the dampness on his fingers off on his cloak instead.

''Unfortunate,'' the other said without a shred of sympathy. ''There's no use to wallowing in the past, Severus.'' A lazy flick of skeletal fingers later, crystal shards rose from the floor and mended seamlessly. With a soft clink, it was set down on the small wooden table in between them. ''Channel this into revenge instead and improve your actions for the future. Dumbledore is not through using you, but he does not know the power you hold over him now. Nothing he has planned shall come to pass as we shall prevent it. You gave me several interesting bits of information I had not counted on before that change the entire game in our favour.''

''Is that so?'' he asked, allowing himself to grasp at a bit of hope.

''Voldemort himself must do it, when the time has come,'' the Dark Lord quoted, absentmindedly stroking the scales of the snake that had climbed on his lap at some point while Severus had been preoccupied. The man laughed softly, a dangerous sound that usually preceded carnage, which had Severus tense up. ''While I am unaware what led Dumbledore to that assumption, this means Evan is not in direct danger. We had anticipated that the fool would attempt to hunt Evan down if some of the other tasks Dumbledore busied himself with did not work out. That risk is greatly reduced, if not erased, as long as he believes we are not on the same side. With the addition of you allegedly spying on me, we can create a false loop of information that feeds into his fantasies. This will allow Evan greater freedom while still being secure. I shall only have to decide what happens to some of our unexpected recent allies… such as Black. He's decent at Occlumency, but his mental state might cause him to slip when confronted with questioning from the Order's side. Furthermore, I have made several decisions based off the belief that Dumbledore was completely aware of Evan's change in allegiance… but that is not your concern for now. Your task first and foremost is to remain credulous to Dumbledore.''

''Do you have any wishes in what information I should relay to him?''

''Not so hasty, Severus. I can't imagine someone as careful as myself would instantly trust a follower who has dallied with my enemies for so long and only returned at such interesting timing, not even ten days after capturing the one responsible for my former disappearance. Such a follower would have to wait for any intel until their loyalty has been proven anew, don't you think?''

It made sense, though at the same time Severus wondered why that had not been the case initially. The day after he'd chosen to return to his path of following the Dark Lord, he'd been invited over for a celebration and made aware of Potter's change of heart. Had the circumstances that had warranted him being trusted again differed so much from the current situation? They must have… well, it had been the Dark Lord himself who'd invited Severus, seen through his lies and given him options based off the words of the dead.

He correctly assumed the question had been rhetorical, for after only a short pause, his Lord went on: ''Needing you to supposedly shed yourself of any suspicion to me brings forth golden opportunities we previously did not have. We can use both your position as Headmaster of Hogwarts, as well as that Hogwarts is in need of a new Defence teacher. You have not found a replacement yet, have you?''

''I have been teaching the subject myself whenever I had the time as a temporary solution,'' he admitted. Supposed curse or not, that he'd been able to fill in for Lupin without consequences had given him the confidence of being able to try again. It was the post he'd originally wanted after all. ''Since there aren't many weeks left until the end-of-year exams I found it would be a waste of time to spend my days recruiting instead of teaching. It was my intention to search for someone new during the summer break. I assume you have a fitting candidate, my Lord?''

''You assume correctly. The Carrows are growing restless, to the point where they are taking matters into their own hands… In questionable favour to me at least, but I'd like to remove them from the political field and towards a more controlled environment such as Hogwarts nonetheless. There are few people who know more about the Dark Arts than Amycus, and Alecto has the necessary knowledge to teach History of Magic – the proper type, not an endless recital about goblin rebellions such as is being taught now. Installing these two as professors will benefit both me and the school. As they are considered respectable citizens who were only shunned due to Dumbledore's constant suspicion of their involvement in the late war, Fudge should not give you any trouble when appointing them.''

Severus let the news sink in while trying to hide his distaste. The Carrow siblings were wild cards with few manners and much bloodthirst. It had come as an unpleasant surprise that they'd still been allowed back at Voldemort's side now plans of war were off the table. It made sense to keep them close as they were respected among other dark families, but giving them roles of importance was a dubious decision. He could already see the drama enfold, especially as Umbridge's Decree that allowed corporeal punishment was still active. Yet Severus doubted the Dark Lord would care how much his followers might instil terror in Hogwarts. Perhaps he did not realise just what lengths the students would go to keep their school free of tyrants?

''My Lord, while I naturally will do as asked, I feel I must point out that Umbridge was driven out of the castle recently by Potter and his friends because of how she treated them… the majority of those friends are still residing in Hogwarts.''

''Your point being?''

''I'd hate to bring allies into Hogwarts only for them to lay hand on children who will drive them insane after the first try. The students are currently drunk with their victory over the previous Ministry-appointed professor who attempted to control life in Hogwarts and used violence to enforce it. Considering especially Alecto's temper…'' he trailed off, observing how thin lips twisted into a sneer.

The serpent slithered away as the Dark Lord rose and started pacing, hands clasped behind his back. Disturbingly, his pet looked up and followed every move like a well-trained guard dog. Severus was generally fond of snakes, but this particular one's strange behaviour never failed to put him on edge. It was almost mammalian… if not human.

''I see your concerns, Severus,'' the older wizard at last spoke. ''I'll ensure they both know not to take… liberties. If we are to convince the next generation of our justice, greeting them with violence cannot be the answer. I shall give you the authority to command the Carrows as you please in my stead. Be sure they spread the word and values of magic without going on the offensive. Sending the Carrows is to serve many purposes, not only to make Dumbledore nervous. One of the most crucial aims is to improve the education Hogwarts has to offer and by Merlin, Amycus and Alecto are both excellent scholars once they overcome their power plays.''

Never having dealt with them much – both were more than ten years his senior and had thus neither attended Hogwarts at the same time nor been in Severus' direct circle of acquaintances – he'd have to take his Lord's word for it. What he had seen so far spoke against that evaluation of their characters, but maybe he'd be pleasantly surprised by the Carrow's deeper waters.

Sensing this topic had ended and that he'd simply have to find a way to deal with his new staff members, Severus instead moved onto the next matter that had been on his mind ever since speaking to the former Headmaster: ''May I ask how to best counter Dumbledore's current goal of extracting Potter from you, my Lord? Should I send him on a goose chase of different locations or…''

The other pensively shook his head. ''No… for now, you are to tell him you do not possess any information where either I reside or where Evan is being kept. That you hope to gain my trust until I lead you to them. We can win several weeks like that. After, you may tell him exactly where I am… he will neither be able to find me without me making the first move nor break through my defences.''

''My Lord!'' he spoke up, shocked at the flippant confidence. ''I do not doubt your capability, but-''

''But?'' came a suddenly icy hiss.

He swallowed, forcing himself to double down. ''Dumbledore is underhanded, has a great deal of powerful allies and is no stranger to obscure branches of magic… If he has the certainty of your location he will not rest until-''

''Severus,'' the other cut him off once again, warning clear. Sharp nails rapped on the leather arm rest as the other took a seat. One more word and he would have crossed the thin line of patience that had been drawn. Not winning anything by being subjected to pain, Severus tucked his opinions away for now. He avoided his Lord's crimson gaze until the man was once more calm enough to address him without clearly wishing to rip his head off. ''I shall handle Dumbledore. First of all, he clearly wishes to try the route of negotiation for the release of my captives. It may not even come to that, for what he wishes to obtain as leverage will come at a great price, for some a lethal price. Did you recognise the potion from Dumbledore's description?''

''A nightmare draught,'' he dutifully replied. ''I have not yet told him so.''

''It is an altered version of a nightmare draught,'' he was corrected, and instantly Severus started wondering what exactly the difference was, which properties had been changed, which ingredients replaced or which quantities added. Before he'd made up his mind on enquiring about it, his Lord ordered: ''Tell him it is a modified Befuddlement draught instead. In its location, it would make sense for that to be just as possibly deadly and they look similar enough to the untrained eye.''

Severus swallowed down a scathing reply for the dozenth time this evening. A nightmare draught and a Befuddlement draught were so dissimilar that he'd expect a second-year Hufflepuff to tell them apart. The only resemblances were the colour and smell. Surely those were not the only properties laymen relied on for potion determination! Although Dumbledore had mentioned coming across the potion in a dark and hostile environment and had not been able to extract a sample to study further… Maybe…. Just maybe, it would be enough. ''He'll surely notice once the first sip has been taken,'' he couldn't help but mention. Nightmare draughts were strong, but if one was careful and did not swallow the entire dosage at once-

He should have seen the spell coming. He should have reacted the second the curse was being uttered. The red jet of light hit him square in the chest and all Severus could do as the Cruciatus curse tore at every nerve was curl up into a ball and put all energy in clamping his teeth together so hard that it was impossible to scream. Making any sort of noise would only result in the Dark Lord drawing the curse out longer. When it felt like white-hot flames blistered his fingertips away and rods of steel were being pushed into his spine, Severus retreated to the furthest corners of his mind to escape the pain. He succeeded only partially, but it was enough to keep his dignity when the Cruciatus was lifted and he heaved himself back into the chair. ''My apologies,'' he muttered. ''I should not have offered unnecessary advice.''

''Indeed, you should not have. Some trust in that I know exactly what I am doing would be wise, Severus. You have done your part in relaying the details he gave, I need no additional input regarding how to proceed from here. If I look for creative criticism, I have plenty of people whom I appreciate hearing that from. You are not one of them.''

That may be for the better, Severus silently considered. Staying at a distance was preferable. If it hadn't been for Dumbledore's meddling, he would have happily remained locked in at Hogwarts for the rest of his years if it meant peace and quiet in his personal life. ''Understood.''

''Good. Now… the old fool has told you some unfortunate details about the connection between Evan and I.'' The blood seemed to freeze in Severus' veins, and only the knowledge that he'd already received instructions for future steps prevented him from recklessly trying to disapparate on the spot. While Dumbledore had not mentioned the word 'Horcrux', he had still described rather clearly that a part of the Dark Lord's soul had split off and nestled in Potter's body. Enough to affirm Severus' conclusions when seeing Potter's history during the Occlumency lessons. He'd been able to keep his assumptions a secret from the Dark Lord then with slight magical alterations… there had been no realistic way to do so now. Not without very obviously tampering with his own memory.

''I am bound to you and bound to the boy,'' he spoke warily. ''My lips are sealed.''

''For now… Now you have nothing to gain from revealing this to anyone. That could change.''

The snake, which was curled up in between them on the floor, hissed quietly as if it understood he was viewed as a threat. Severus recalled that it too must be a Horcrux as Potter had been inside its mind. How many of these damned things were walking around? Just how often had this lunatic torn his own soul apart? It was a wonder the Dark Lord still resembled a man. It once more made Severus wish he could have left all of this behind him… But Lily had asked him from beyond the grave to take better care of her son, who would never leave this man's side.

''It won't change,'' he vowed, jutting forward his left arm. ''My Lord, you know my motivations, my failures, my shame… I made errors before but have atoned for all of them.''

An unidentifiable emotion flashed across the skull-like face. For a moment, Severus feared that the other had changed his mind. Then, the Dark Lord scoffed and turned around. ''You had better keep your promise this time, Severus. I'll bury you myself before giving you a third chance. Leave now and inform Dumbledore of my current position. I'll be long gone before he arrives and it will lend your story believability if he finds traces of my magical signature here. You can use it as evidence that you are not hiding knowledge of my whereabouts.''

''As you wish, my Lord.''

A few minutes later, he breathed in the city air, letting the past conversation run through his mind over and over while at the same time calculating how best to return to Hogwarts. The Dark Lord may have been able to bring him here, but travel by the Dark Mark was regrettably a one-way trip. Severus knew his own limits very well and wasn't bothered by admitting to not being strong enough to apparate more than a few hundred miles. Conjuring up a map and calculating the distance, he sighed irritably. Over a thousand miles… and of course there would be neither direct floo connections nor readily available Portkeys to Britain. Just what he needed in the middle of the night when he had classes to teach a few hours from now.

Resigned, he apparated as far as possible to a known destination in southern Germany and, already quite exhausted, made alternative arrangements for some floo hopping from there.

---

Rarely had Harry felt such exploding anger. The last time he could starkly recall was years ago, when it had first sunk in that Dumbledore had been playing tricks all along. And although he'd accepted Voldemort's verdict about the old Headmaster having known it would need to end in Harry's demise, he had clung onto the last straw of hope that the man at least had the decency to feel honest regret about it. The talk with Snape however had been so… cold. Calculating. He'd all but admitted to slowly leading Harry on in order to manipulate him in seeing the 'truth' at the very end. What a comfort it was that Dumbledore had planned on revealing these grisly plans right before expecting Harry to calmly become a martyr to murder another human being.

Harry pulled away from the Pensieve and blindly grabbed for his partner, drawing himself into an embrace as he feared his pounding temper would rip him apart otherwise. This reaction wasn't healthy, he knew that. Even less so when clinging to Voldemort like a lifeline, who drank in the hurt and rage like a starving man. Obsessed and delighted with the raw pain Harry was feeling at Dumbledore's hand, because the Dark Lord knew it would be turned into a weapon. Harry was too far gone to care.

If Dumbledore thought wanting to save Harry from suffering now before sending him into the grave later was a band-aid, he was sadly mistaken. Insult to injury was how he saw it. Harry had decided a long time ago to never be used again. It was the reason why he'd rebuffed so many of Voldemort's ideas, why he'd never stopped following his own moral code instead of unquestioningly agreeing to the one he'd pledged himself to. It had taken much self-reflection and talks with his now-partner to find where he wished to be: in control of his own future. How ironic it was that someone who supposedly lacked in empathy respected that whereas Dumbledore did not.

''My plan of luring the fool to his death suddenly does not sound so wicked after all, does it?'' The tempting whisper dripped with malice. Beneath balled fists, the teen could feel the quickened pulse and shortness of breath as his partner was consumed by Harry's storm of emotions. He exhaled harshly, burying his face into a pale neck, finally giving into the urge to destroy something as he desperately sank teeth into skin. A blot of surprise covered all other feelings for only a second, soon wiped away by smugness and desire that spurred him to continue, taking what he could get in this blinding fury, tasting blood as he screamed into Voldemort's shoulder and the arch of his throat, leaving a trail of marks wherever lips touched. Somewhere beyond the red haze of hurt, he vaguely registered glass splintering violently in response to the wild magic that was lashing out.

''Vicious, aren't you?'' the man tenderly asked, finally pushing Harry away. It still took a few long moments before his vision started to clear and Harry's pumping heartbeat slowed. With horror, he looked at the mess he'd made. Blood dripped down marble skin and the drawing room around them was covered in sharp splinters. Fine transparent sand covered the sofa, a shield spell from Voldemort having prevented any further damage from the shattered window. It did work wonders for his anger, which vanished the same second it felt like a bucket of ice water had been thrown into his face.

''OH- Merlin. Fuck. I- I didn't want to-'' he spoke in distress, frantically wiping the blood from his lips and gagging at the thought of having hurt the one he loved. He moved away from the sofa to put more distance in between them, fully expecting the brunt of Voldemort's exasperation at his actions. Before he could step on sharp pieces of glass, they were all pulled away to the window, which mended itself with a tinkling sound as if never having been broken.

A pale hand was lifted to the injuries and brushed away some of the blood, Voldemort holding up stained fingers to inspect the smears with unhealthy interest. ''Don't insult me, Evan,'' he murmured quietly. ''I've been harmed far worse than by a couple of shallow love-bites. I've admittedly never been on the receiving end of those in particular. A novel experience. You do know my fondness of novelties. Alas, I am neither fond of high-collar robes nor of my Death Eaters spotting any weaknesses… Episkey.''

Calming down as the wounds closed without a trace, Harry tried to push the guilt aside that was unwelcome for them both. Instead, he turned his thoughts to all the bitter revelations that today had brought. It hadn't been the most pleasant news to wake up to, but they had to keep going to remain a step ahead. ''This leverage Dumbledore mentioned… as there was a nightmare potion involved, I assume he's found the cave? Why did the Inferi not attack?''

His partner smiled, clearly pleased by how quickly he moved onto important matters, brushing the anger aside for this moment in favour of taking action. ''They only do so once the water is disturbed. Because of the potion, I needed a second person or creature with me to consume it, it would have been counterproductive if the Inferi would attempt to kill that person before they fulfilled their duty. Anyone who does drink that potion without assistance though, will either get so disorientated by the end that they stumble into the lake, or become so thirsty that they'll attempt to drink the water. The lake is its only source, as I prevented the use of any elemental or transfiguration spells within the cave.''

Uncomfortable, Harry spoke: ''You needed another to drink it for you each time you checked on the Locket? Could you not have made it removeable only by you, or developed an antidote so you wouldn't be affected?''

''Both would have had loopholes others could have exploited. Removal spells could have been copied, antidotes can be stolen… No, this was the safest option. It didn't cost much either, I once used a House-elf and Muggles for the remaining visits…'' When Harry grimaced, the older wizard cocked his head curiously. ''Ah, is this about the value of life again?''

Harry inhaled deeply, wishing he wouldn't smell the steely scent of blood anymore. ''You keep underestimating the ones you deem beneath you regardless what way your philosophies shift. Even when it comes to House-elves… you researched their origin, know their kind initiated this bond with the mages they serve, but still never stopped to consider House-elf magic is only different to ours, not inferior.'' His partner's previous mood soured, but especially since these new revelations from Dumbledore would force them to act, Harry thought it of utmost importance that the two of them were on the same page. Voldemort hadn't returned to the topic of Muggles since their last talk about it, which was worrisome. ''Muggles have many strong qualities too. Treating them like disposable toys to protect your own longevity... no, not even that. I can understand to a point why you killed people to achieve the perfect immortality you sought, but to murder someone only to be completely certain the Locket was still in place beyond all the barriers you created? That sounds like a preventable waste that brought far more suffering than it ought to have.''

''As apparent, my concerns were valid, as not only was my Horcrux already stolen once, my greatest enemy has now discovered that location also and is working on dismantling my protections. Undoubtedly, he would have succeeded in doing so if Severus had not been on our side.''

''Only because you left trails caused by that same protection. The trap that required you to throw away another's life was the reason it got stolen in the first place as the House-Elf escaped the fate you intended. Also, I fail to see the necessity of these complicated safeguards. You say it was the best option, yet none of your other Horcruxes had the same kind of security as far as I'm aware. You literally gave one to Lucius Malfoy without informing him of its dangers. And didn't you tell me once that the ring used to hold a curse to ward off enemies? That too would have a counter curse that could be replicated. You could have come up with so many different methods…''

Voldemort growled, agitated magic practically bouncing off the walls before he exclaimed: ''What point are you trying to make?''

''I want to understand you!'' Harry hissed. He carded a hand through his hair and started pacing, frustrated. ''Where your borders lie. What motivates you to kill in one situation and makes you still your hand in a similar one. Why you created a death trap around this Horcrux and justify it as essential when you didn't do so for the others.''

His partner fell silent, radiating annoyance with a hint of… awkwardness? Harry stopped in his tracks and quietly waited as he felt that second feeling drifting more prominently to the surface. ''It was born out of ambition,'' Voldemort at last admitted, and Harry could almost swear his cheeks were a tad less pale than usual. ''I modelled this cave to my own taste using the most advanced magical techniques I knew at the time to push my own limits. A brew that even a potion master would be jealous of, a blood ward learned after studying Borgin's darkest artefacts, Inferi that would continue to obey me even in case of my own temporary demise, enchantments and runic spells that drenched the place in magic I created. Was it so wrong then, to use that laboratory of innovation as a hide-out for a piece of my soul once I left, even if it meant I had to adapt my spellwork in such a way that it would require another's assistance to fully access?''

Slightly taken aback, the teen asked: ''You did not create it for the Horcrux?''

''No,'' the other grouchily replied. ''It was the perfect area to hone my skills away from prying eyes. After graduation, I apparated there often to practise magic of all sorts. Even during my travels, once I had sufficiently learned to wield the source magic I had been granted to apparate across great distances without draining my own core, I returned there to put into practise what was often only taught as theory. It was – is – something I am proud of. Hence why I wished to leave a piece of soul behind even after I did not actively use the place anymore. When my reputation had risen to such a level that I could practise all I desired from the comfort of lavish homes of my followers on the surface.''

''But why not simply throw the Locket into the lake and have your Inferi bring it to the surface each time you visited, instead of putting it in a potion that makes even you personally unable to touch it without removing that obstacle first?''

From the stunned look on Voldemort's face, Harry got the idea he already knew the answer. ''You… didn't think of that?''

The other only hissed and looked away. ''It doesn't matter now, the Locket has been safe since you returned it to me. I did not toss anymore Muggles into that cave and the potion was left purely as an opportunity to get rid of my nosy enemies. Does that sufficiently please you?''

''Only if we can have another conversation about violence.'' He'd wished to avoid it as long as possible, but more and more unpleasant details had sprung up over time that he hadn't asked his partner about. He did not wish to grow resentful and found it healthier to attempt to talk it out. At the spike of fury that stung his skull, Harry raised his hands, wondering if he was really going to say what he planned. After a moment of self-reflection, he decided that yes, he would.

''I am well aware of both your feelings and your position. I know you have killed many people in the past, you will continue to do so and I'll not bother you with senseless ultimatums as I accepted that as fact even before I allowed myself to admit I loved you. I only request – for your own sake as well as others – to not use it as a first resort without weighing all options or consequences as I know you have unfortunately done before. Once a life is taken, it cannot be restored as it once was. You have experienced yourself how detrimental your tendency to prefer excessive violence can be. My parents' murder led to losing your body, your attempt to use Kreacher's life endangered your soul, the war you started made people so fearful and resentful that they cast aside your ideals because the blood you drenched this country in weighted heavier than any positive change you wished to make. And it is not only murder itself… Some of your followers hold more fear than respect as you threaten them with pain at every turn and gave them traumatising displays of people being eaten by Nagini while fully awake. Is that the foundation of your new world?''

The Dark Lord's forehead creased slightly at his agitated words and the man inched closer slowly to envelop Harry in his arms. ''You would not have found it in you to love me had we met twenty years ago,'' he muttered, burying his nose in Harry's hair and inhaling deeply. ''All you speak of is far in the past. As for my current deeds… Rosier betrayed me as he thought I had abandoned my ways, I know for a fact several of my other followers also think I have mellowed. No new war was started, I no longer condone hunts on Muggles, I have welcomed creatures, half-bloods and even Muggle-borns while announcing to my followers that they are to be respected as fellow magical beings. You still think I am not trying? Not improving? Is it not enough?''

Pressing his face deeper into silky robes, Harry drew a shuddering breath. ''I appreciate all of that more than I can possibly say,'' he stated seriously, taking in the seeping sadness that encased his heart like cold fog. ''But I have also seen the other side of this war, the opinions of hundreds of people who were not at the heart of Slytherin, who are so wrapped up in grief over family and friends having died for your mistakes that nothing you or I say can ever sway them to your side now. The past can't be changed, but if you want to live in a society that celebrates magic, that accepts dark magic… we need to prevent repeating history. It's not only about avoiding a new war – it's a fundamental problem of a mentality that sees other people as expendable things the moment you believe it suits you. That you still wish to eliminate those who'd severely threaten you after careful consideration is, as I have already told you before, understandable. Collateral for selfish purposes though, only breeds resentment from perhaps unexpected sources or has other negative effects. That includes Muggles. What if the next random Muggle you sacrifice has the potential for getting magical children? Muggle-borns are already so rare even amongst millions of Muggle families, why reduce the chances to grow our numbers?''

''Why bring this up now? To distract from your own pain?'' Voldemort asked suddenly, mentally prodding as strands of magic started caressing Harry.

''In part, maybe,'' he reluctantly admitted. ''But also because of that pain. I am so furious at Dumbledore that I grow weak in my resolve and would love nothing more than to see his head on a pike. However, I'm well aware that I'd regret following up on that urge in the end. Dumbledore's death would start an avalanche. It would only fuel the Order's will to fight you with the influence he currently exerts, people who've remained neutral so far could change their mind, the organisations he runs would find new leaders – new faceless people. We at least know where Dumbledore stands and that at heart, he does not wish for war either. What if the next Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederacy of Wizards is hot-headed and militaristic? Or what were to happen when the Order of the Phoenix is driven forward by someone not held back by somewhat of an accurate moral compass?''

''You believe Dumbledore acts on morals? After what you witnessed just now?''

''Yes,'' Harry answered with a sigh. ''A very clear one that is far more calculating than I'd wished and I do deeply resent him for personal reasons, but Dumbledore seems to believe that saving multiple lives in exchange for fewer is inherently a good choice. An opinion many would stand behind, if I'm not grossly mistaken.''

As Voldemort considered his words, Harry flashed a grin at him. ''Come on, when comparing that to your own actions, it isn't hard to see who, from an objective point of view, would be considered a better person if the options are you or him. You in all seriousness suggested I murder a couple of my peers to further my skills in Necromancy a few months ago. That is what I am talking about when it comes to choosing violence as a default… Would it have been good practice? Sure, most likely. Would it have given me more value than rituals with which I resurrected already dead animals? Maybe. But at was cost? Grieving families set on revenge? Murder investigations? Hogwarts closing down once more? I know we have different views, but all of this is why, if we are to create a plan for the future together to deal with common enemies such as Dumbledore, I'd highly appreciate it if we can openly explore different ideas before you suddenly trap and kill him without my knowledge, consequences be damned as long as you get to see the life leave his eyes.''

It was clear as day that Harry was hitting some sore points, so he attempted not to be intimidated when his partner snapped: ''You seem to be full of accusations and inaccurate predictions! Do not forget that regardless of my wishes, I gave you the chance to come up with a solution for Umbridge. I even gave you my word on trying to consider other methods for getting rid of Dumbledore. What about that gives you the idea I am so short-sighted as you claim? Had you been anyone else, I'd have considered your words an unforgivable insult to my character ten minutes ago! As is, I at the very least demand an explanation how your view could get this skewed!''

It was true that Voldemort had reconsidered offing Umbridge, as well as said he'd think about alternatives for dealing with Dumbledore, and yet too much had happened for these isolated events to make Harry trust in Voldemort's judgement. Promise or not, the man was quick to mention the fate he wanted Dumbledore to suffer as if hoping Harry would change his mind and support it. Moreover, Umbridge's case could have well been a one-time-only offer because Voldemort did not particularly care about her. In contrast, Voldemort had fired a Killing Curse at an Auror right in front of Harry's eyes without ever having mentioned the guy or having explained the threat he specifically posed. Harry hated feeling so out of his depth, torn between wishing to trust his partner and knowing the other oftentimes simply did what he considered best without looking for consultations. There had been so many deaths Harry had only found out about in retrospect, from human sacrifices for celebrations to offhandedly mentioned kills months after the fact. Voldemort had never even mentioned punishing traitors by having them be eaten alive, which turned out to be a much larger deal for Harry than he'd initially thought when Narcissa spoke of it… Stumbling to explain, Harry conveyed more with emotions than words.

At the end of his rant, which consisted of jumbled frustration and attempts of reassurances that it was truly not Harry's intention to make Voldemort feel guilty of any past deeds, his partner leaned back and spoke: ''You clearly fail to realise this is what I have been striving for. I have eliminated only those I considered severe threats to either my person or the future I envisioned. Those who knew about my method of immortality, traitors who already showed they could not be trusted or political enemies who were so firmly against dark magic that they could never have contributed to the desired balance. Exceptions were only made for others, such as Barty or Nagini.''

''What happened to the real Noctua?'' Harry blurted out. The lack of a satisfying answer to that had nagged him for a long time. ''You said previously that you mutilated him, only to steal his identity. I never followed up on that, a mistake on my part. Is he still alive even now?''

''I only needed his skin and memories. The former healed, the latter was replaced. Last time I checked on him, he was rather happy studying wand woods in Sweden. Wandcrafting had been Noctua's first choice of study before his parents talked him into pursuing a career with less competition. He's no worse for wear besides the fact that he believes his name to be Carlson Bythesee, who has no direct family anywhere near Britain. Before the necessity of his removal, I already discovered that he isn't necessarily opposed to using dark magic, so it would have been clearly counterproductive to kill him off.''

Harry wished to ask whether needing his skin was meant metaphorically, then remembered Madam Pomfrey informing him about the strips of skin that had been used to attach the centaur arm to his own being of human origin. There was likely no need to ask and bringing it up would help no-one either. Still not entirely satisfied, he continued: ''You also wanted to eradicate my last remaining family members as a gift.''

''Muggles,'' came the quick response, but before Harry could shoot back at that, Voldemort unhappily added: ''Yes, I know what you wish to say. That was before you somehow got deep enough under my skin about the topic to quench my irrational need to crush them all. After you so graciously pointed out that my urge has vanished, I thought about it in greater detail and concluded I have started to see them as… somewhat human from more than a biological standpoint. They remain dangerous as a whole of course, but certain individuals may indeed have their use in the future. If I do need human sacrifices – and I have explained to you before why it is necessary for certain rituals – I'll select them more carefully. Those too old to either be turned into werewolves or have offspring, those without possibly magical family members who could resent their deaths, those who have contributed little of intellectual value or other worth and so on. As for your request about violence… that hunger for inflicting pain as well stemmed in part from my inability to feel complex true emotions. Dominating others through hurting them was one of the only means to feel something akin to delight, yet now I have found… other sources of joy,'' he mused. Cold fingers curled around the back of Harry's neck, insistently pulling until their faces were only an inch apart. ''Does that ease your worries somewhat?''

It likely shouldn't, he thought, but Harry could not bring himself to feel anything but pride. He closed the distance, intent on showing his approval rather than voicing it. They were swept away by each other, the feel of dry lips meeting his own making his heart leap into his throat. Desperate for more contact, Harry opened his mouth. A stinging bite later, the teen glared at a highly amused Voldemort while rubbing his sore bottom lip. ''You're a menace,'' he pouted petulantly. As his partner broke their embrace and moved away in favour of igniting the fireplace to get some heat, Harry mulled over everything that had at last been spoken out loud after weeks of stewing in silence about these - to him - uncomfortable topics.

Voldemort would never be a saint and Harry hadn't asked for that either. Hearing the ways his partner had improved – partially even unwillingly – was plenty to still the leftover fears. Most of his friends would probably be horrified to hear about these plans to calculatingly select Muggles to sacrifice based on their worth for the magical community, or Voldemort's admission to silencing those who opposed him whom he deemed impossible to sway, but Harry could only see how the sheer number of casualties would drop drastically. It meant Voldemort would only murder those he needed for a specific purpose and leave everyone else alone. It meant no more senseless slaughters out of anger, no more quick revenge as an outlet or preventable deaths that only happened by Muggles being in the wrong place at the wrong time. According to Sirius, most of them had lost their lives in the first war due to crossfire during Death Eater raids and the like, where no-one had cared whether onlookers survived the rain of spells and collapsing buildings. If Voldemort saw value in keeping alive anyone who could contribute in some way to the world he envisioned, he'd be much more careful.

''Thank you,'' he at last spoke up, figuring he shouldn't leave his own thoughts unsaid now. ''It appears most of my fears were unfounded… or at least outdated.''

''I understand now how you drew the conclusions you did,'' the older man spoke, at last having calmed down somewhat. ''As a footnote to this, I also do wish to draw attention to the fact that you were unaware of most of my kills since I resurrected due to you being at Hogwarts. The limited time we did have to speak during shared dreams, even after I considered you to be more than a follower, I did not wish to waste on what I considered irrelevant facts. You living here, being constantly in my vicinity, of course changes what information you'll receive.''

''It's a relief to hear that,'' he answered, although his words were interrupted by his own rumbling stomach. Figuring they should stop drawing this talk out so he could start with breakfast preparations, Harry said: ''To move onto Dumbledore's current idea to 'rescue' my friends and I...'' he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. ''At least this whole talk has thoroughly calmed me down enough to think clearly about it.''

''Pity, I liked your vengeful spirit,'' Voldemort remorselessly confessed. ''It was a sight to behold. Frankly, it will depend on the capacity to which Dumbledore can execute the plan he laid bare to Severus. Whether he manages to retrieve the Locket, whether he realises it is a fake or not… Part of it won't work in the first place. He wishes to distract me with negotiations using the Locket as bait while sending in a House-Elf unseen to get you and friends out in the meantime. After hearing both your story of a House-elf blocking the entrance to King's Cross and another jumping through all my wards in the cave to return to Regulus, I did in fact learn and ensured Elf magic cannot influence the barrier here. It won't be able to get in without finding the proper entrance, just like any mage. So unless you change your mind about not wishing to leave him to rot with my Inferi, we need to exert patience and wait to see what unfolds. We'll have several weeks to plan a counter to all of his possible strategies before I even allow Severus to reveal I have been here in Little Hangleton all along.''

''Why not lie and give him another, completely unrelated location? Surely Dumbledore won't come here without announcing where you live to the rest of the Order.''

''Unfortunately, the old goat is very proficient in reading magic. Apart from here, I haven't been anywhere in particular nearly long enough to realistically sell it as my residence. If I lead him to any other house, he'll know at once something is off. Besides, I have confidence in my creation of this dimension, it is the most familiar territory and thus advantage I can get. Even if the entire Order of the Phoenix stands on my doorstep, they won't be able to enter.''

''Wasn't part of the point of creating a separate dimension for Dumbledore to not pick up on any magic cast from the other side though? How will he notice any of your magic unless he enters here? And if you would allow him entry, won't he also feel mine, Ron's or Sirius' magic…?''

Voldemort waved his concerns away. ''Microscopic shafts and a setup of mirror magic,'' was the incomprehensible answer. ''Tricky, though doable with enough preparation time – which I have. However, we're getting ahead of ourselves. As said before, much depends on his next steps, which I'll have Severus monitor in the meantime. Dumbledore might also get distracted from his rescue mission by my choice of new teachers for Hogwarts. I doubt he likes 'his' school being overrun by my followers.''

''The Carrows,'' Harry spoke with an uncomfortable feeling in his gut. It had been mentioned in the memory he had been shown before, but he'd been too distracted by anger over Dumbledore's words to give it much notice. He'd only met them once, at the Ostara Ball, where they hadn't really left any impression as they hadn't personally talked. He'd heard a few stories from Voldemort though and they didn't seem like the kind of people Harry would want to associate with. Of course, he held back from forming a too negative opinion of them since a few years ago his younger self would have told him he'd never wish to associate with Voldemort, Barty or the Malfoys either, but so far he had certain reservations when it came to some of his partner's old followers. ''And you think releasing them in Hogwarts is really the best move?''

''I am not 'releasing' them like some wild animals, Evan,'' the other disapprovingly said.

''You do want to get rid of them to reduce their influence, which says a lot. Say, aren't these the same Carrows who apparently rounded up people who expressed critique against you after the Ball? You sure they aren't rebelling and wanting to go back to the good old days like Rosier?''

Voldemort's nostrils flared as the former Death Eater was mentioned once again and crabbily replied: ''If that would have been the case, they'd no longer be among the living. I had a meeting with them afterwards and although their memories were of course muddled and altered as I had instructed Severus to do, I found their underlying intentions were to intimidate those who dared speak poorly of my choices. They may be a tad too eager to practise creative curses on living targets, but they know whom they answer to and why. Your acquaintances will not be harmed. Severus will make sure of it.''

Harry grunted. ''Right, I totally trust Snape to rein them in. You know, the guy who hates students for no reason, messes up their academic achievements, fully intended to poison someone's pet and looks the other way when his precious Slytherins bully other students even to the point of using curses that cause bodily harm.'' He put a hand over his heart and sighed dramatically: ''The only person who embodies the pinnacle of Hogwarts' values. And before you start on how he improved his behaviour towards me or whatever, do remember he only saved my life because he's forced to.''

Infuriatingly, the other didn't react to Harry's anger, flashing a smirk over his shoulder instead. ''He embodies Slytherin's values.''

''I thought you admitted that Slytherin was wrong in many points?''

''In his goals after leaving Hogwarts yes, not while he was active at school. Which only speaks in favour of putting the Carrows where I will. They are people who need structure and guidance. Without it, they'd tend to go off track in an overzealous attempt to push through my ideals with violence. At Hogwarts however, when needing to adhere to the boundaries of being teachers, restricted even further by Severus and other staff members, they can concentrate on unfolding their real talents when not allowed to do as they please. Call it obligatory personal growth if you will. Here, have a look.'' With a wave of his wand, two black files that had been standing on top of a shelf flew down, one depositing itself on the coffee table and the other directly into Harry's hands. The cover was plain, except for the vague imprint of the Dark Mark in the left corner. Ignoring a second protesting rumbling of his stomach, Harry opened it, the first noticeable thing he saw being a picture of Alecto Carrow.

''How will you even get both of them into Hogwarts?'' he inquired while flipping through, seeing letters and reports inside that described her achievements, strengths, weaknesses and deeds in Voldemort's service… His partner truly was incredibly thorough in the methodical way in which he kept track of as many people as possible. Was there a file on Harry himself too and if so, what was considered important enough to be in it? Shaking that from his mind for now, he elaborated: ''I get appointing one in the Defence Against the Dark Arts position, both because Umbridge left and as they're surely proficient in Dark Arts. History of Magic however? Binns is a horrible teacher, but as far as I recall, the only time one of the ghosts was rendered immobilised was when it looked into the basilisk's eyes and that is no longer an option.'' A shot of sudden hurt made him realise that hadn't been the most sensitive topic to bring up. Quickly, he scrambled to say: ''I just mean- How would you go at finding an excuse to replace him?''

From the tightening in Voldemort's sharp jawline and the pressing discomfort that instantaneously pounded on Harry's skull, he figured it would take a while before the man would calm down enough to answer, so he busied himself with looking over the yellowed copy of Alecto's N.E.W.T. results and other academic degrees. As this woman too must have been taught by Binns – because who in Wizarding Britain hadn't – it was admittedly impressive to see she'd received an O in History of Magic and had followed it up with a Cultural History and Philosophy degree at the Arcane Arts Academy. It seemed like a fairly boring path for someone who'd then become a front-line soldier for a couple of years instead of getting a regular job. After Voldemort's downfall, Alecto Carrow had found work in several places, first as an appraiser for magical artefacts and later as a personal tutor for pure-blood children.

As if he hadn't just ignored the question for minutes while getting a grasp on his anger, Voldemort replied: ''Severus is Headmaster of Hogwarts now and Umbridge tried everything to make it easier for herself to fire teachers. Usually there'd be a vote from the Hogwarts school Board of Governors, but as long as these Decrees are still in place, Severus' word will be enough to have that useless ghost retire at last. Unofficially, he'll have to justify it to Fudge as Binns technically passed the inspections that were held at the start of this schoolyear and nothing he teaches is nonconforming to the Ministry-approved curriculum, but I doubt it will be difficult as nearly every person alive in this country recalls his teaching methods. Getting a more engaged professor involved who has the necessary credentials and experience tutoring many children of Fudge's personal acquaintances should be enough to convince our dear Minister. Now Dumbledore cannot block this attempt, it'll be a breeze.''

''So you have no reservations about this,'' Harry concluded hesitantly.

''Not as long as I instruct them to behave in a civil manner and actually teach instead of using this to get ahead. Amycus should have certainly learned from his last mistake.'' At Harry's raised eyebrow, he explained: ''Both of the siblings lay rather low during my absence, but Amycus did nearly get in trouble with the law shortly after the war. Bored and unemployed, he duped a couple of Muggles into pretending to be a priest to some Muggle god and used small displays of magic to convince those followers of his holy powers,'' Voldemort stated. From the way his magic turned prickly, Harry could tell that not only the Ministry would have disapproved of this breach of the Statue of Secrecy. ''When word got out that a mage was misleading Muggles and openly using magic in their presence, an investigation was started. I believe Lucius was the one to send Amycus a warning up front, which led him to abandon this little project and only leave memory-wiped Muggles behind, a cold trail for the Aurors. Of course, I was less than pleased when finding out that not only had he risked exposure, but also used magic in order to exploit a false religion. It was both an insult to Magic and to me. If he would not have confessed this stunt to me before I took him back into my ranks, I doubt I would have let him at all. As he was honest about it, he merely suffered a punishment of such a nature that I can rest assured no sacrilegious behaviour will ever cross his mind again.''

Harry pulled a face at this next reminder of Voldemort's way to handle the Death Eaters. Other than with his opinion on Muggles or excessive violence against third parties however, he couldn't expect his partner to heed his words regarding this. As Narcissa had attempted to make clear, many considered this punishment or reward system to be an acceptable norm. As much as Harry disapproved since he knew loyalty could be won in many ways, this wasn't his fight. He only hoped it wouldn't come back to bite them in the end. At least Voldemort seemed to entertain the idea of leaving the 'younger generation' to Harry, who would ensure their bonds would be built on more than fear.

When thinking about Voldemort's followers however, one last thought came to mind. He closed the black file and pensively asked: ''Not all of those who follow you do so out of fear, do they? You made sure to grant some of them a reward up front in return. You employed this strategy with Barty… and with your most recent follower as well. That Auror. I assume you kept your promise?''

''Odell… yes, I ensured her sister recovered from the disease that had been plaguing her. A result of an experimental spell gone wrong, unfortunately paired with a case of Black Cat Flu. The latter is relatively harmless to people when treated swiftly, but in combination with being permanently stuck in the middle of an accidental human-to-animal transfiguration of several species at once who all have a distinctly different physique… well, the matter became rather deadly.''

''I suppose it was a good way of winning her over… but I never understood why you gave her your Mark. I was under the impression that this was some sort of honour that only those closest to you received. That Auror… she didn't exactly seem the same type as most of your other followers, less compliant and more willing to fight you to the death. She was a Muggle-born too,'' he recalled.

''I used to only mark those I considered to be good enough for my Inner Circle, that is true. However, after my fall I realised that the majority of them turned their back on me too. It has made me reconsider the trust I gave, the value of calling all of those I marked my confidantes. Instead, I started using the Mark as a convenient way to monitor and control my followers. With the addition of it destroying the minds of traitors, I see more merit in giving it to those I cannot have close personal contact with. I can hardly walk up to Odell's office and there is no place for close ties to dark families with the regular company she entertains. For now. Speaking of Odell… I hope this is one more example you shall think of when you convince yourself of my unstoppable thirst for blood,'' Voldemort sarcastically spoke. ''Apart from Scrimgeour, all of our opponents from that afternoon survived the ordeal.''

Harry ducked his head, not having considered that in his previous fit of worry. ''Right… sorry. It wasn't my intention to see the worst in you,'' he attempted to explain.

''You can be glad we are connected, so I can personally feel your utmost sincerity,'' Voldemort stated grimly. He stuck out his hands to warm them more thoroughly, the reflection of flames glinting in his sharp fingernails. ''Less pleasant is the feel of hunger your empty stomach causes. Go and prepare yourself some food. I doubt there'll be time to eat later. Did you study the rituals I asked you to yesterday?''

''I did. Fairly certain I can pull them off, although admittedly it will be horrifyingly embarrassing if nothing happens.''

''After the feats you have already performed, channelling one soul should be easy for you. Furthermore, I'll be there to guide you. Was there anything else?''

''Nothing that can't wait,'' Harry replied after a moment of consideration. All in all, they'd addressed the most pressing matters that had been weighing on him. He still had a few questions, but none he wouldn't also be able to openly ask with other people around during breakfast. Striding up to his partner, Harry gave a last embrace from behind before heading to the kitchen. Lost in thoughts, he didn't at all notice how Ron deliberately snuck past him to head upstairs.

XxX

''What are you even doing?'' Ron desperately muttered to himself as he arrived on the landing. ''You must be mad.'' He should have just asked Harry. That was what best friends were for, right? No need to bother You-Know-Who personally. But… from what he'd picked up, this gathering was pretty exclusive and Harry wasn't even invited, only tolerated since anyone who valued their body intact would nod along when the literal Dark Lord decided he wanted to bring over more guests.

Sirius also thought he was crazy for wanting to go in the first place, Ron knew, which is why he'd waited for a moment the man wasn't around – or awake yet in this case. He didn't think Sirius had much say in it anyways, that guy seemed to have gone on the craziest adventures whenever possible. Hardly fair to call Ron ridiculous for grasping for an opportunity to be useful while also getting out of the house he'd been stuck in for weeks now. It was doable since both Harry and Sirius kind of shared the same fate, but it was still a bit different. His friend obviously enjoyed being here every moment of the day - especially when You-Know-Who was home and they'd discuss for hours on end or retreat upstairs for whatever Ron didn't wish to know about, and Sirius could at least leave for very brief visits to Professor Lupin or when he would be accompanied by Sir Crouch.

Ron had no such luxury, so after the initial shock had worn off, his extended stay felt similar to some of the more boring holidays he'd spent at home, only without his family around. It had been the longest time Ron had spent away from all of them, which truthfully made him rather anxious. He was grateful Harry was here of course, and had at the start even enjoyed not being constantly bothered by Ginny or pranked by Fred and George, but that had faded quickly when realising he didn't have a clue when he'd see any of his siblings again. It could be months. Heck, years. As long as the Ministry wanted to snap his wand and throw him into Azkaban basically.

To counter those feelings of unease, he'd attempted to keep busy, learn more of this world he'd stumbled into. This must be what Harry and Hermione had felt like when discovering magic, he imaged. To find out there's so much hidden behind a thin curtain. Now Ron was the one who'd been pushed through a wall, quite literally from what he'd gathered from conversations about dimensional walls and bubbles. The truth behind his friend's allegiances had at the same time opened up a well of knowledge about magic he'd previously been forbidden from even mentioning.

Dark magic both scared and excited him. Thankfully the painful stabs to his chest hadn't resurfaced after figuring out it had all been in his head. He hadn't mentioned it to Harry anymore since their weather rituals were over with, but Ron wasn't opposed to seeing more, to trying more. Of course, he was mindful of this addiction people whispered about and did not want to cast spells meant only to hurt others. At the same time though, he did wish to be a part of the world Harry had described with such a feverish look.

Muttering a few more words of self-encouragement, Ron finally willed his legs to move again after stalling long enough to gather confidence. He held his breath and peeked through the door opening to the upstairs living room, finding it empty. He glanced nervously to the bedroom a bit on the right, then jumped when hearing the scraping of wood on wood from the other side. Sneaking closer, he pressed an ear to the door he thought it had come from. Soft scratching noises that he identified as the unmistakably sound of quill on paper ensured him that this was the right place, so Ron internalised that the Hat must have sorted him into Gryffindor for a reason and knocked.

''Mr Weasley,'' You-Know-Who neutrally greeted without looking up. The abnormally tall man sat in a large office chair and appeared to be drawing. At a second glance, Ron recognised star charts, though these looked far more complicated than the ones they'd had to draw for Astronomy homework. As Ron apparently took too long to answer, a rather irritated: ''Are you disturbing me for a specific reason?'' followed.

''Ah- yes… Sir,'' Ron felt his own face twist into some awkward expression when realising he had no idea how to address someone known for being unmentionable. He'd previously attempted to avoid addressing You-Know-Who and wasn't quite sure why a 'sir' had slipped out right now. Clearing his throat, he decided to get out what he wished to and flee downstairs as soon as possible. ''I'd like to accompany Harry to the Greengrasses.''

One unnatural snapping head movement later, Ron was pinned down by a blood-red gaze. He wasn't sure why Harry liked to gush about You-Know-Who's pretty eyes, as he found them to be one of the most terrifying aspects of the man – and not for a lack of choice. ''You wish to accompany us… to a funeral?'' The stressed 'us' to made abundantly clear to Ron he would also have to deal with his presence.

Standing his ground, Ron nodded. ''Harry talked about it a lot yesterday and seemed quite enthusiastic. He err… mentioned Necromancy and wanting to see you do your… err, job,'' he stuttered, then squared his shoulders to not seem so cowering. ''It's not as if I don't know anyone there either. I get along with both Daphne and Astoria.'' Good, his voice wasn't so wavering anymore.

''Hardly enough to warrant your presence at their great grandmother's memorial service, I would assume.''

''Maybe, but neither is Harry familiar with anyone else there. And with all due respect… Sir Crouch expressed his worries about Harry going there unaccompanied by anyone else. Something about memories having needed to be adapted last time?'' He was bluffing a bit with this ace, as the Death Eater hadn't spoken directly to Ron about it, but neither had he been quiet when voicing complaints to Sirius while Ron had been trying to mind his own business.

You-Know-Who slowly put down his quill and sent a terrifying glare his way. ''Have you kept up with your studies as instructed?'' he questioned.

''I… tried my hardest,'' he truthfully said. ''Read most of the books I got so far and Sir Crouch helped me with the practical aspects of putting up a few basic wards.''

The older wizard hummed noncommittedly, and Ron suddenly felt like he'd been called up front of the classroom by McGonagall to read out a piece of homework he'd half-assed.

''You have been an adequate friend to Evan.'' The statement came so out-of-the-blue that the teen didn't even know how to react to that. He sure hoped he'd been. ''As you have been making an effort, unlike other people,'' (He got the feeling that You-Know-Who was specifically talking about Hermione, whom Ron hadn't seen since her sudden departure), ''I shall allow it as long as Evan wishes you to be there also. Go ask him.'' The waving gesture was a clear dismissal, and Ron happily took his leave, practically storming down the stairs with beating heart.

Merlin, how had Harry ever fallen for such a stoic person? Although Hermione's choice of partner wasn't much better. Between You-Know-Who and Krum, he wasn't entirely sure who was more frigid. He sure hoped neither Harry nor Hermione expected him to ever become bosom friends with their chosen partners. If he'd ever get a girlfriend, he sure hoped it would be someone more pleasant to be around for everyone. Family dinners would get rather awkward otherwise.

As he barged into the kitchen, inhaling the delicious smell of scrambled egg, he announced: ''You have a creepy taste in men.''

''You don't need to tell me that,'' Harry chuckled, sounding in good spirits. ''Here, can you taste this and tell me if it's crunchy enough yet?'' he asked, balancing a piece of bacon on a fork.

Ron thoughtfully tasted it and voiced his approval. ''Can I help?''

Wordlessly, Harry shoved a chopping board and a box of mushroom to an as of yet empty spot on the counter. As Ron settled into busying himself with the given task, Harry asked: ''I thought you tried to keep out of his way. Did you really speak to Voldemort just now?'' He sounded a bit anticipating, and Ron hoped Harry didn't think he was actually trying to befriend You-Know-Who.

''Wanted to get his permission to come along today. To the funeral you've been talking about. He said it's okay as long as you're fine with it… Are you?''

Harry frowned and stilled his work. ''There's going to be a bunch of Slytherins. Primarily Slytherins apart from me, in fact. It's not really going to be a cheerful event.''

''Well… yeah, I know. It's just that… I'd like to know more about what's out there. And since in the past weeks you've tried to let me know more about what You-Know-Who actually does and about what he's all taught you, I figured it'd be nice to see for myself, you know? Err, if it's not seen as disrespectful of course.'' He hadn't really considered that yet. Although he personally wouldn't have minded if strangers attended his Aunt Muriel's funeral as a learning experience.

''You have to stop calling him You-Know-Who at least while there,'' Harry grinned. ''That's my requirement.''

He groaned. ''My parents will kill me if they ever find out I've referred to him as 'the Dark Lord'.''

''Don't worry, if they ever find out, I'll distract them by announcing I've kissed him.''

''As if you could ever do any wrong in mum's eyes. Hey, what has you in such a good mood?''

His friend shrugged. ''Trying to focus on the positives of today.''

''It's barely seven in the morning, how do you even already have positives and negatives to weigh against each other?''

A deep sigh followed, and for a while Harry busied himself with loading the prepared egg onto plates. ''Snape visited around midnight. Voldemort at least waited until I'd properly slept before telling me about it, but there was a lot to unpack.''

The summary that followed was one of the wildest stories Ron had heard, and that said a lot after Harry had unpacked all of his own secrets.

''So Professor Dumbledore is convinced we're all some poor kidnapped kids who've been locked into a dungeon and need saving… until you're was supposed to walk to your own death maybe a few years later?'' His mind was still reeling, trying to catch up. ''Wait, what about that is positive news? The saving part? We still can't go back to normal despite this right? No matter what Professor Dumbledore thinks, we needed to flee Hogwarts because of the Ministry, not the Order.''

''Well, we would technically be safe from persecution when going to the Order's Headquarters, but that is of course only an option until they force us to tell the truth behind what really happened. I doubt I'll get plus points for my involvement with Voldemort. Although…'' he gave Ron a strange look. ''This might be an opportunity for you. You'd be safe with your parents instead of stuck here.''

Before hope could worm too far into his heart, Ron was already shaking his head. ''I know too much. About you, about You-Know-Who… I agreed to stick with you too, I don't think that'll make anyone in the Order happy. I could only show up there if you'd wipe the past month from my mind and I'd really rather you didn't. Truth is better than compliance.''

Harry smiled. ''You're the best friend I could have ever wished for.''

Knowing he was getting red in the face from embarrassment at that heartfelt admission, Ron turned his attention back to the task at hand and realised he'd absolutely mangled the mushrooms. Trying to act nonchalantly, he shoved the roughly hacked bits into an empty bowl. ''So, I gather that wasn't the positive news?'' he inquired. ''If we can't use this rescue to get our lives back to normal?''

''No. Voldemort eased some of my fears regarding his… er… tendency to throw around deadly curses. It made me realise we've progressed further than I'd thought.''

''Oh… wait, he'll stop killing people?'' Ron disbelievingly asked.

Harry bitterly laughed at that. ''Stop? Merlin, no. Let's just say there's a sharp downward trend in the amount of murders to his name.''

Ron wisely stayed silent. If he'd ever find out that any potential girlfriend turned psycho and killed even a single person, he'd break up with her instantly for sure, but Harry's relationship with You-Know-Who clearly couldn't be measured by normal standards. Hermione had condemned it, thought Harry must be under some kind of influence, but Ron doubted that. His friend was just crazy in love. It wasn't his business to interfere or make decisions for Harry's own good.

But Merlin help him if You-Know-Who ever broke his friend's heart, because most powerful wizard in the world or not, Ron would come at him with fists and teeth.

---

AN: We all need friends like Ron, don't we?
So, Harry and Voldemort cleared up some of the remaining things that had been nagging Harry and they're on the same page now, and Dumbledore is still stumbling in the dark.

Next up will be the Greengrass funeral for sure, though I haven't concretely planned yet what else will be in. We might get a bit of a time skip / summary after that point.

please read and review!
xx GeMerope