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.

97. C96 - A Hundred Suns

AN: Okay ONE more Severus POV, as a treat to myself, because I can't help but find his reactions to anything Harry and Voldemort do too fucking funny.

Thanks so much again for the support! I absolutely love you guys.

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Chapter 96 – A Hundred Suns

In the garden below, the exams started at last, Alecto stepping forward first to see the students' application of charms. It hardly caught Severus' interest: having observed earlier that week that Professor Tofty's expectations did not go beyond levitation, colour change and growth charms, he wasn't assuming the woman to pick something wildly beyond that scope, as the Carrows had been instructed to pick similar spells. Indeed, although she certainly forewent charms that had been covered in the first three years and focused instead on those that took considerably more power and concentration, the Hogwarts curriculum hardly went above and beyond in this subject. Once the three students had all shown (to various degrees of efficiency) their ability to summon heavy objects with precision, disillusion themselves and use an eradication spell to disintegrate small wooden and metal marbles, the first part of the Charms exam passed rather uneventfully. Marginally more interesting was Alecto's added round of awarding points to advanced charms the three wished to demonstrate.

Granger decided to show her control of elemental magic by creating fires and rapidly dousing them using the N.E.W.T. level Aguamenti charm. Draco instead used the flexible definition of 'charms' to show off a few more volatile spells, throwing a reductor curse at targets he asked to be conjured. Severus admitted to being impressed Draco knew this dark charm, as it shouldn't have been covered at school at all, having been crossed off the curriculum a couple of years ago after some unfortunate incidents with expensive equipment being reduced to dust. It wasn't a spell useful in duelling either, so he couldn't imagine Narcissa teaching her son this curse.

Pulling his attention back to what he'd come here to watch most of all, Severus sharply observed Potter. What horrific charms might the Dark Lord have taught the boy?

''Oh, Sirius-'' Potter exclaimed as if having forgotten something, whirling around before even reaching his designated spot. A shame Severus couldn't deduct points from Gryffindor here. The blatant disrespect for good demeanour… No-one else seemed to care however, not even Alecto. ''Siri… I will technically get hurt with this, just a warning in advance so you don't flip out. I'll be perfectly fine in no time,'' the boy continued, making Severus raise an eyebrow. Was Potter going to use blood magic?

The mutt's face fell and he handed his wand over to a stunned Granger, whispering something to her that was too inaudible to hear from up on the balcony.

With a dramatic flair that Potter must have inherited from his father, the boy threw back his left sleeve, raised his wand again and put it to his own arm. ''Pafsílȳpos'' Potter spoke clearly, which Severus recognised as a potent, advanced anaesthetic charm. He himself hardly wasted his time with pain relief when healing, instead focusing on getting the actual job done as fast as possible. Then: ''Ossio Comminutus''

Severus stared in disbelief, the spell ringing in his ears. Had Potter just shattered all bones in his lower arm?

With how hot-tempered the Dark Lord had become regarding Potter's health and safety, Severus had expected to hear displeased hisses or such at the very least, yet when hastily glancing over to his left, the man appeared entirely calm, merely the faintest curiosity showing. Some of the other onlookers were far more emotional: Black was attempting to rip his own wand from Granger's hands again in a fit of madness, who clung onto the wood with knuckles as white as her horrified face. Next to her, Weasley just seemed confused. The boy likely wasn't up to speed with his charms enough to even realise what had happened. Other than with bone-breaking curses, shattering one's bones did not dislocate them so severely that it was visible from the outside.

''Mad lad,'' Crouch exclaimed loudly. As the tone was admiring rather than reprimanding, Severus' distaste for the Dark Lord's choice of right-hand man grew. No wonder Potter was getting more and more reckless if this type of behaviour was fostered.

''Alright, sorry Sirius, really,'' Potter nervously laughed. ''Professor, could you check my arm to verify the bones are properly destroyed?'' he asked as if this was the most ordinary question in the world.

Alecto may not have much experience with healing, but anyone in service of the Dark Lord for a few months knew what damaged bones looked and felt like. Stoic as usual, the woman briskly walked over to Potter and prodded his arm in several places, finally giving a nod. ''Your work might have been for nothing though, Potter,'' she sternly warned, frowning. ''A bone-shattering curse falls in Dart Arts territory, not charms, and while I admit that your use of a pain-relieving charm is impressive, only you can judge the strength of it. I know your story and how many injuries you've suffered in life. It may well be that your charm is only stopping the very worst pain and acting does the rest. That is not enough for a fair assessment. Well, let's get you healed up now, Severus might be able to assist…'' Severus decidedly did not want to assist with healing someone stupid enough to damage themselves, but knew he'd have no choice one way or the other.

''Alecto,'' the Dark Lord spoke, that one word crisp as a winter's first frost. ''Evan can hide neither thoughts nor physical influences from me. Pain very much included. Rest assured that his charm was perfection.''

Potter awkwardly cleared his throat even as Alecto started profusely apologising and bowing low towards their Lord. ''Errr, that was… actually only the prep work,'' he buffoonishly stuttered. ''I wanted to show that I could actually apply the charm I raved about in my theoretic test. Look: Episkey!'' One perfect circle later, Potter was moving his left arm again, demonstratively flexing fingers that looked as good as new, causing gaping all around.

Healing some cuts and scrapes or even a broken nose was one thing. A whole shattered arm and - if Severus had seen correctly – hand as well with a single charm? An entirely different story. Oh, it wouldn't be a problem for himself or any other decently trained Mediwizard or potioneer. A fifteen-year-old-boy learning Healing on the side, though? Perhaps, he aversely admitted as he fought the astonishment rising within, Potter might have a single braincell beneath that moppy hair of his that wasn't corrupted just yet.

With that final bit of commotion - Amycus giving a whistle from the side-lines that showed he too had finally been impressed - the exams continued. Runes was next, which only Potter and Granger were being tested for. Why his godson had thought it a good idea to skip out on Ancient Runes in favour of a subject like Care for Magical Creatures was a mystery. Marginally better than Divination at least, Severus inwardly sneered. Or Muggle Studies, which would have given Lucius a stroke. Not that his friend wouldn't have had his fair share of those since adopting Potter, surely.

While Alecto was handing out three items each for her students to enchant with runic spells (a mug, a dagger and a round amulet), the Dark Lord spoke: ''As we watch this amusing show… do use the time to think about your reward, Severus.''

Having fully expected to receive none due to technicalities being abused, a feel of unease dawned upon him. Was it wise to simply accept instead of voicing those thoughts? He wasn't one to shun valuable opportunities and his Lord didn't hand out gifts left and right, yet he might appear greedy if leaving those doubts unspoken. Surely, the other would know of his reservations. Deciding it was best to tread the safe path here, Severus remarked: ''The condition of being rewarded was the potion working as intended… It having no effect would mean this condition was not met, and considering the ingredients used to create it, a reproduction is unlikely.''

''Perhaps. And yet, I do believe that you spent a good portion of your time on explaining exactly why it did work. Or would have worked, if not for the small fact that there was no need to take it. I do not break my promises lightly.'' Severus' grip on the railing tightened, for if that were true, perhaps Lily might still live. He should have known the Dark Lord knew what was on his mind without those thoughts being spoken aloud. ''My other promise to you was only broken as keeping it would have been futile. She ignored two attempts at mercy, do not tell me that was not enough.'' The last word was whispered in a way very telling of the dangers arguing would bring.

''Yes, my Lord,'' he conceded. He'd never be done grieving, but this was one fact of life he could at least accept by now. There had indeed been mercy, more than some thought possible from one such as the Dark Lord. ''Then…''

''Then name a reasonable boon.''

Such bargains struck were always about equivalent exchange, he'd learned in all the years spent in Slytherin. Severus took his time thinking on it, for it was no easy feat to find an acceptable reward. Too little and he would be seen as unworthy of playing these games. Too much would be a grave offense. Yet what could be equal to achieving the creation of an invention so many had sought after, even if it had only been useable once? Most importantly, what value did the Dark Lord himself assign to this potion? Would Severus overstep his bounds too much by taking the factor into account that in a way, his invention had caused his Lord peace of mind about the man's emotional turmoil? Maybe he should not risk that…

''One creation against another,'' Severus decided, ''There have been rumours, my Lord, that you have discovered a way to take to the skies without aid? If there is anything to these claims, I would ask to be taught this spell as my reward.''

''Fitting,'' the other spoke, thin fingers tapping on even thinner lips as he thought about the offer. ''Very well, Severus. At the end of next week, once the potion exam is done, I will have some time to teach you.

Both surprised and pleased his Lord had agreed, Severus carefully allowed himself to feel some amount of satisfaction as he carried on watching the Runes exam. Potter and Granger were both done with their carvings – the task had been to design three bindrunes: a stacked one for keeping all liquids in the mug warm, a same-stave one on the knife so its wearer would be alert to danger until the runes would fade, and finally a radial bindrune on an amulet for protection in battle. Not that Potter would need such a thing, Severus inwardly thought, reminded of being told that the boy had received shields from the Dark Lord that cast any harmful spell back at its attacker. Had anyone seen fit to warn the Carrows about that?

From this distance and angle, Severus could not make out whether the carvings the two had chosen were effective. Alecto's face was not revealing either when she inspected and tested the items.

''My Lord,'' he spoke, reasonably sure that doing so was allowed as the other had broken the silence first. He'd rather get this talk over with before Potter would be a constant presence again, unwilling to let the irrational boy in on the intel he'd gathered. ''Before we are pulled to more pressing matters, I still wish to make you aware of Dumbledore's growing impatience regarding my inability to reveal your location to him yet.''

''Truly? I'd expected the fool to be understanding of it taking you more than a few weeks to gain enough trust.''

''It has been over a month,'' Severus pointed out. ''He was content for a while, but ever since the appointment of the Carrows at Hogwarts, he's been hounding me with letters. Apparently, I should have been able to convince them of my loyalty by now, somehow. It likely does not help that his insistence on taking his leadership of the Order more seriously means that he is surrounded by worried family of one of the brats here.'' He threw a glare at Weasley. It was a relief to be stationed at Hogwarts, for he likely would be driven insane when dealing with Arthur and Molly Weasley's behaviour right now.

''I have plans for Ronald still,'' the Dark Lord responded after a bit, sounding displeased. ''An exchange to ease Dumbledore and the boy's parents about his safety would be counterproductive. Not to mention that it would require memory modification after all…''

Severus raised an eyebrow at the suggestion. ''I doubt that would be a feasible solution one way or the other. They are just as worried about Potter as for their own son.''

''Why?'' his Lord asked, sounding thrown off. ''They have no ties to him.''

Crouch cleared his throat, tearing his eyes away from the happenings below. ''From what I heard, Evan has kind of considered them adopted family for years. Such bonds can be just as strong, if not stronger,'' he hinted, hastily lowering his head when the Dark Lord turned his unblinking stare at his Right Hand. Deserved, Severus thought. That had not been subtle.

In a more clipped tone, the other continued: ''I see. Well, this puts us in quite the predicament. Dumbledore getting antsy could lead to unexpected results. I'd rather have him where I can predict his actions. Severus, tell him that I have invited you for a personal meeting coming Sunday, after which you will surely be able to deliver him the information he so desperately seeks. Like that, he won't take actions that might divert my attention elsewhere than on you, we can conduct the remaining exams in peace, and also having a few more days to make the necessary arrangements.''

The tone sounded final, so Severus only nodded to convey he'd follow those orders, internally glad that all of this wouldn't be dragged out into his own holidays.

Alecto also appeared done with the appraisal of the bindrunes, a last analytical spells making all six objects glow the same bright blue. She clapped her hands. ''Good work,'' she spoke, probably the most praise her students could ever expect. ''Don't rest on your laurels yet though, for you'll have to face my brother next and unlike with me, his methods of testing you are… a tad less close to Ministry approved practises,'' she grinned. ''Even if he is still to use the same spells,'' she warned Amycus as the man strode forward with a grim expression. He wore duelling robes, a clear advantage as opposed to his students.

Both the Dark Lord and Crouch leaned forward, clearly having been looking forward to this part most of all. ''The kid learned most duelling from me,'' Crouch bragged before Potter had even fired a single spell. ''Better not let me down today. If he doesn't whoop Amycus' arse-''

''Language, Barty,' the Dark Lord absentmindedly muttered.

''Pardon, my Lord. If Evan doesn't smack Amycus so hard that his behind will hurt for days, I'm not speaking to him for a solid week.''

But the older wizard wasn't paying anymore attention to Crouch, instead speaking up loudly: ''Evan, you are not allowed to purposefully use my protection to your advantage, understood?''

''Hadn't been planning on it,'' Potter retorted. ''Should we close our link, by the way?''

''No,'' their Lord resolutely replied, fingers rapping rhythmically on the balustrade. Severus figured the boy was talking about the strong mental connection they had, which he'd seen glimpses of in Potter's memories in the few hours he'd attempted to teach Occlumency. ''With how much magic you used already in the past night without any proper rest, I prefer to keep an eye on your condition. That is not to say you can use exhaustion as an excuse to give it any less than your all.''

After giving no less than a thumbs up to the future ruler of their continent, the boy faced Amycus. ''A duel, right?'' he asked. ''Draco told me how you teach at Hogwarts.''

The other Death Eater crossed his arms and looked Potter over for a moment. ''That's the idea. Can only properly test your application of defensive charms when there's something to defend yourself against,'' he affirmed. ''Is that a wish to go first?''

''Wouldn't have a problem with it. I wondered what spells you wished to fire at me the first time you pulled that wand on me.''

Severus raised an eyebrow. On what occasion had Amycus been so stupid to draw his wand against Potter? A hiss that slipped through sharp teeth came from his left, so apparently this did not only come as a surprise to himself. Crouch quickly leaned in and whispered something in their Lord's ear. The Dark Lord softly growled in return: ''Imbecile, he could have been carelessly ripped to shreds,''

With that ominous comment and an uneasy feeling about the upcoming duel, Severus watched Potter and Amycus meet in the middle of the field, both wands drawn and held up in front of their faces in proper duelling fashion. True, Severus had been the one to teach that stance first, hadn't he? Maybe he should rub that in Crouch's face someday. From the corner of his eyes, he noticed Granger nervously hopping from one foot to another while Alecto put up a strong defensive barrier around all those who watched from below to not get hit by stray spells. Shouldn't the other two students be escorted inside? Or was Amycus so confident that he thought it would not matter if they saw his style? Maybe it did not: this was one battle-hardened Death Eater against a couple of teenagers. Realistically, only Potter might actually pose a semblance of a threat.

Amycus explained: ''The rules are simple: the duel will either last seven minutes, or until either one of us is knocked out, disarmed or otherwise unable to continue fighting. I will judge you on the range of spells you use – both offensive and defensive – creativity in usage and how long you will last. I shall only use spells that are taught in the first five years of Hogwarts.''

''That doesn't narrow it down much,'' Potter replied, raising an eyebrow. ''Barty demonstrated the Unforgivables to us last year. I know I have a good record with Killing curses, but…''

''Spells you children have been allowed to practise for future use. Or should have been allowed under competent teachers, as I don't count Umbridge's crap theory approach. I'll refrain from Unforgivables today,'' Amycus smirked. ''You, on the other hand, may use everything that is available to you, regardless of whether you learned it in school or not. Do your worst. Surprise me. All clear?''

''Is Carrow going to regret that?'' Severus couldn't help but mutter, glancing at Crouch.

''I hope so,'' the man replied, looking as if he was choking down laughter. ''Pity the duel is so short. Evan can't possibly show all he knows before the timer would run out.''

Even as Severus picked up on Crouch's full confidence that Potter would not only last those full seven minutes, but be the one to end it as well, he realised there was no more time for more speculation. The duellists turned their back to each other and took ten slow steps in opposite directions.

XxX

From the moment he'd turned around, Harry's mind went in the zone. He no longer saw their audience, no longer felt the pressing summer air that had been so bothersome during the previous exams.

Three steps.

Only his opponent counted now, and the steady wand in Harry's grip. Weapon and shield both, more than the convenient tool most mages regarded it as, as Voldemort had so often tiraded about. It sizzled already as he fell in tune with the holly wood and phoenix core.

Six steps.

The first move was everything. Barty had attempted to drill this principle into him first, and Harry had carried those teachings further when setting up duels with the D.A. The first move decided whether one was on the offensive or defensive and set the pace for the rest of the duel. One wasn't necessarily better than the other, but he'd have to build on it. For this occasion, the choice was obvious.

Nine steps.

All of his muscles tensed, he built up the spell even as his right foot still hovered above the ground, as he knew any other experienced duellist – which he didn't doubt Carrow to be – would too.

Ten. The spell shot from the core of his being into his arm. Turn, and his Protega Maxima flashed as it was released from the tip of his wand to meet the red Stunner that had silently been fired in that same moment. The speed of their spells were equal, he registered in the back of his mind. That just meant he would have to physically be faster.

He was sprinting to the side before his first shield had fully dissolved, throwing up another series of barriers, both magical and physical, to hide behind as he zigzagged into closer range. Harry wasn't especially good at aiming, so closing the distance would only be an advantage. The soft earth he'd pulled upward in make-shift walls crumbled as a blasting curse hit them, and Harry reflexively dodged the clumps as Amycus used an Oppugno charm to sent them flying sidewards. Two could play that game. While dodging, he'd already prepared his next spell, the detonatable star his friends had taught their Defence group. Knowing he couldn't afford to sacrifice much energy or body heat right now, he didn't let it get white-hot, releasing it already when red. It was enough, as he set it off right in front of Amycus' feet, a rain of dirt jumping upwards as the ground exploded.

The man wasn't easily deterred however, losing his footing only for a moment and shielding himself from the blast. It still gave Harry a valuable second in which Amycus' attention wasn't on him. Having combed a hand through his hair to find some loose strands, the teen threw up a haze shield that covered at least thrice his own size, concealing his exact location. As he couldn't very well fire spells directly in order not to lose that advantage, he transfigured the grass beneath the man's feet into fiery ropes.

Unfortunately, he quickly learned that fire was apparently a specialty of his opponent, for the man took control of it with ease and turned it against Harry, using a powerful Incendio to burn up a path through the meadow large enough to cover the entire shield he was hiding behind. It forced him into a sprint again and to rethink strategy while dousing the flames that were attempting to catch up to him. The only relief was that very few spells to manipulate the elements had been taught during class in the past five years, restricting Amycus' ability to do as he pleased.

''Serpensortia,'' Harry muttered. A cobra, very similar to the one Draco had summoned during their first official duel, appeared, looking around in displeasure. Harry should maybe have asked Voldemort at some point if these serpents were actually pulled from somewhere across the globe or if they were created for this purpose. To be on the safe side as he wanted no actual harm to come to the animal, he ordered: ~Spit venom at that man from a distance. Distract him for me, please. I'll give you as many rats as you like afterwards.~

Encouraged and somehow not at all taken aback by Harry speaking to it or it being caught up in a wizarding duel, the snake lunged forwards eagerly, throwing itself into battle. Seeing the direction it was heading in, Harry circled around the opposite way so his opponent would have to fight on two fronts.

Regardless, Amycus made a formidable foe, countering both the cobra's bouts of airborne venom and all of Harry's hexes and jinxes with his own. As this was going nowhere, both of them parrying or dodging each spell throw their way, Harry purposely let himself fall to the ground. He threw up another type of distortion shield, a light one this time that he'd researched for the D.A., and hastily traced a few runes into the ground. A quick slash to his hand gave enough blood to active them, although in the heat of the battle and beneath the rising sun, the faint red glowing lines were thankfully hardly noticeable. A powerful blast both shattered the shield and knocked Harry back a good few feet. He coughed as his back hit the ground hard, groaning as he attempted to get up again.

The other's tall and broad form blocked out the sun as he stepped closer, wand trained on Harry.

''Incarcerous!'' The last syllable was uttered just as the other stepped on Harry's sowilu rune trap, and the ropes that flew out to bind the teen were sent just a bit to the right as light completely blinded Amycus, enough to make him stagger. Not that Harry – who had closed his eyes in anticipation of this and rolled to one side hoping for the best- could see exactly in which direction the ropes went. He did feel it, as they still caught his left arm and leg, partially immobilising him. Throwing a look at Amycus when trying to get up, Harry noticed his opponent had pulled up another shield just as soon as he'd been left vulnerable.

The teen only had a moment to analyse the situation. Amycus' eyes were pressed closed, and the man was clearly in pain, but his front and sides were covered by a sturdy Shield charm. The cobra had disappointingly vanished sometime during the struggle, the boon of food apparently not worth enough to stick around. Harry himself could not freely run until getting rid of the tight ropes, which would surely make enough noise and occupy his wand arm long enough that he'd be left completely open to a frontal attack… He wasn't proficient enough to keep up a shield for long while concentrating on burning the ropes through either.

He knew time to be ticking away too, and truly wanted to make both Voldemort and Barty proud by defeating Amycus instead of only withstanding his attacks for the duration of the duel. Creativity, his examiner had said…

With his good leg, Harry managed to twirl around, apparating for the first time in months as he concentrated on the spot he needed to be at.

As soon as his perspective changed, he fired a nonverbal disarming charm straight at Amycus' back, the man's wand being ripped from calloused fingers and landing in Harry's triumphant hand.

''SIX MINUTES AND THIRTEEN SECONDS! VICTORY TO EVAN!'' an enthusiastic shout ripped through the air – Barty - , and all sensations he'd managed to block out came rushing back. The noise of thundering applause, the heat, the aching in his bones. Most importantly, the tidal wave of pride that washed him away for a blissful moment. He looked up to the balcony and sent a tired smile to his lover, whose blazing eyes and thrumming impatience told Harry that he wouldn't even need to beg to feel his partner's wicked tongue down his throat today.

Those thoughts were momentarily wiped from his mind as Sirius tackled him. ''HAH, knew you could do it! That was epic, Harry, epic! That transfiguration spell – plants into fire whips? Even James would have trouble turning living matter into such a pure element. Not sure why you didn't just shoot a fireball, but the skill!'' he made a chef's kiss sign, complete with the accompanying noise. ''Come on, show a bit more enthusiasm, pup! You beat a Death Eater!''

But Harry couldn't muster the energy for jumping up and down like Sirius was doing, leaning heavily on his godfather until the other finally noticed he wasn't looking too well. ''Hey- hey kiddo, you alright?''

''Need some- I dunno – water, maybe?'' he slurred, vision going a bit wonky and black spots appearing.

''I'll take it from here, Black.'' Harry registered the temperature shift before his partner's voice, automatically reaching out to be enveloped by cold arms. ''Evan, you need to sit down, come.''

''I'll be fine,'' he protested, even as he pressed his face into cool robes to reduce the sudden thudding headache. ''Want to watch the others.''

''You will. From a spot where I can heal you and replenish your magic. I'm less tired than you are.''

''My Lord,'' Alecto spoke up in worry. ''The Litha ritual will take your strength too-''

''Do not presume to know the limits of my power, Alecto,'' Voldemort cut her off. ''Rather go check on your brother. He still has to gather the strength to take on two more teenagers. Both of whom have been trained by the one who just beat him.''

They turned to head inside and Harry managed to pull himself together enough to walk on his own feet with only minimal support by leaning on Voldemort's offered arm. His own two students, who were still awaiting their turn, didn't look nearly as prepared as he'd felt. Draco was white as a sheet and disbelievingly staring at the chaos that was the garden now: rubble, burns and holes everywhere. Hermione wasn't faring much better, doing breathing exercises while clinging onto Ron's sleeve, who tried to awkwardly pat her back with his free hand. His best friend turned concerned eyes on him when Harry walked past. ''Need me to get you anything?'' Ron asked.

''Don't worry, guys,'' Harry managed to grin. ''Aim for his eyes.''

He closed his own in bliss as he and Voldemort made their way through the dark and cool house to head to the balcony from which the Dark Lord had watched the exams so far. A glass of water appeared out of nowhere and was pressed in his hand midway, which Harry gratefully drank. ''This is your last chance to head to bed,'' Voldemort mentioned as they passed their bedroom

''There's only two more fights of seven minutes max, I'm sure I'll hold out a quarter of an hour still,'' Harry responded. ''Or is this your way to get an alibi to sleep right away as well?'' he asked, raising an eyebrow at his partner. The edges of their link were frayed, and he believed it to be from mutual exhaustion. Voldemort had slept even less than he had. His partner did not reply with anything more than disgruntlement, striding towards the open door at the end of the upstairs corridor.

Harry followed, gave a minimal nod to Snape and accepted Barty's hug and words of praise. When Voldemort conjured a set of chairs though, he threw the man a critical glance. ''I know you mentioned wishing to replenish my energy, but I must agree with Alecto. If you will still lead a ritual today, I'd rather gather my strength the natural way and not impede on you. What time did you plan it for anyway?''

''Noon, when the sun is highest,'' Voldemort replied. ''About three-and-a-half hour from now.''

''Could get in a power nap beforehand,'' he suggested, ignoring the chair in favour of propping up his elbows on the railing to get a better look. Draco was up next, having gathered enough confidence to stride forwards without appearing shaken. ''There isn't too much to prepare for Litha celebrations anyways, correct?'' He'd entirely forgotten about the summer solstice being today until Alecto had brought it up. Voldemort had said little about it apart from mentioning the upcoming rite a few times in the past weeks. Thinking back on what he'd read in books on seasonal rites, Harry recalled that Litha was one of the lesser sabbaths that hailed the sun and the balance between budding life and the shortening of days. The entries listing possible practices and common customs had been short and to the point. He also thought of the burning dragon the Beauxbatons students had lit on the grounds of Hogwarts…

''I could take what little preparation is necessary upon myself,'' Barty instantly suggested, a lifesaver as always. ''As long as I don't have a snake snapping at my ankles,'' he added quickly.

''Are you suggesting Nagini is not always on her best behaviour?'' Voldemort icily inquired.

Since Barty was clearly struggling between telling the truth and not wishing to offend his Lord, Harry chuckled and defended him, saying: ''You don't know the half of what she gets up to when you aren't home, love.''

Maybe the endearment slipped because of how tired he was. Maybe the revelation surrounding the love potion was to blame. In either case, he said it, and relished in the reaction. Voldemort had always taken great pleasure in throwing Harry off, both when they were alone and in front of others, but Harry had never felt completely comfortable doing so in return. It didn't take more than a second for the stunned look on his partner's face to disappear, but it had been visible long enough to notice, and Harry threw him a knowing, satisfied grin for it.

Below, the first spells were being fired, and Harry turned his last shreds of attention towards watching his brother's performance. It was a pretty spectacular fight: the spells Harry had taught during D. A. sessions combined with what Draco had learned of duelling forms from his mother was a sight to behold. Unfortunately, like during Quidditch, his brother's two clear flaws were speed and a lack of attention for detail. When Draco was busy going on the offensive, he didn't watch his surroundings nearly enough and slipped when a simple Freezing charm hit the patch of ground he was standing on. Amycus ended the duel quickly, then.

''Six minutes is not too bad,'' Harry muttered, glancing at the glowing timer that hovered in the air next to Barty. He hadn't noticed that at all during his own duel, far too concentrated on his opponent.

Hermione's approach was quite different. She was on the defensive like Harry, but did not really appear to do much besides creating shields. Knowing she was very capable of some wicked offensive spells, he wondered what she was up to as the girl circled around the field at a great distance. She was muttering constantly while trying to block or avoid any spells thrown into her general direction, though whether she wove incantations or was simply trying to talk some courage into herself, Harry couldn't hear.

''A curious approach,'' Voldemort casually commented, finally standing next to Harry again and intently focused on the duel. ''Did you cover wards in your club?''

''No,'' he frowned. ''Shielding, yes, but no warding, as I didn't have a grasp on even the basics of it, myself. What is she doing exactly?''

''You'll see once she gets back to her starting position again, I'm sure. If Amycus does not prevent her from reaching it, of course.''

The Death Eater sure did try, but there was only so much that could be done with spells strictly taught within the first five years at Hogwarts. Due to the distance, nothing touched Hermione as long as she did not attempt to rush into the offensive and instead concentrated only on shielding and hex-deflection. Amycus did not try to close in on her either, likely confident in being able to overwhelm Hermione eventually like this. Shortly before reaching the veranda door again where she'd started, Hermione performed a smokescreen charm, thick grey plumes pouring from her wand and rapidly spreading, hindering Amycus from seeing what exactly was going on. Glancing at the timer, Harry noticed that six minutes had already passed due to how slow Hermione could progress while under constant fire. ''Come on…'' he muttered anxiously.

With a broad slash in the air, her spell was activated. Harry only saw the smoke starting to whirl and move to the centre, slowly compressing as if an invisible, constantly shrinking dome contained it. The fog thickened due to it as it closed in on Amycus. The man was hardly visible, only a vague shape with wildly slashing arms as he attempted to dispel the smoke without success. Before Harry could find out whether he'd be forced into giving up or would find a way to escape the dome however, a loud chiming told them time was up. Not one to overstep duelling rules, Hermione instantly cancelled her spells. Although the result had technically been a draw, she wore a victorious expression, knowing she'd ended it having the upper hand.

''You said to aim for the eyes,'' Hermione spoke cheerfully, looking up at Harry. ''I thought I'd go for both eyes and lungs for good measure.''

''You're being scary again,'' Ron faintly commented from the side-lines, walking up to her once Alecto let her own barrier fall. ''That was a containment wand, right? Sir Crouch has been trying to teach me that one, but I didn't get it down yet. Where'd you learn it?''

''I've had a personal Durmstrang tutor,'' she smirked. ''I told you before that Viktor's elective was Warding. Quite handy for a duel created specifically to show off Defence Against the Dark Arts.''

Barty hummed approvingly, also seeming impressed at her performance. Once Amycus was done coughing and had gathered his remaining dignity after pretty much losing to two of three teenagers, he said: ''Didn't know I'd find so much resistance today. Well, I've certainly seen enough. Quite excited for what tomorrow will bring if this level of dedication to magic is kept up. Are the lot of you ready for Herbology and Transfiguration?''

So far, the practical exams had been much more interesting than the theoretical ones, so Harry enthusiastically affirmed it along with the other two. If Transfiguration didn't go well, he could always try pulling the ace of showing his Animagus form and hope it would garner bonus points. Whether it would, might depend on which of the two would assess that exam though, as he got the feeling that Alecto was much less flexible in how points were awarded than her brother was.

''And now, you're at last going to sleep,'' Voldemort murmured in his ear before Harry could start a long-winded conversation with Hermione to rehash the exams.

Knowing they had little time, he told his friends: ''We'll speak again in a few hours. Really not feeling well. Last time I slept was…'' he did some math in his uncooperative mind. ''Almost twenty-seven hours ago? I don't want to doze off during Litha.'' He'd already missed most of the Ostara rite, even if Voldemort had performed a similar one on a smaller scale for him after, and during Beltane they'd still been at Hogwarts, so he hadn't seen that celebration either. Grateful that he had at last reached a point of exhaustion where even memories of last night's murder wouldn't stop him from sinking into blissful slumber, he stumbled to the bedroom, not exactly surprised when Voldemort followed him like a shadow.

''Don't you need to hold your followers' hands and congratulate them on a job well done before they start wailing for your approval?' he humorously asked after crashing on their bed without bothering to undress further, only having left his dirty boots in the veranda before heading inside.

''They can be lucky I'm tired enough not to punish Amycus' abysmal performance. I had expected him to lose to you, but to Granger?''

''She's faced an adult werewolf, a mountain Troll and a Basilisk and lived to tell the tale,'' Harry smiled, then yawned loudly as he snuggled into the soft blankets. ''I'm not surprised.''

Voldemort made a dissatisfied noise, nonetheless, even as he got under the covers and drew Harry close. He cold weight of his chest against Harry's back was comforting, as were the arms that caged him in. ''She fought neither, as far as I'm aware,'' the man still mumbled, already sounding half-asleep. ''Not like you did. Getting petrified, running, or being saved by friends says nothing about duelling skills. ''

Harry had much to say about that still, but his lips weren't working properly anymore it seemed, and he couldn't keep his eyes open. Merlin, hadn't he built up resistance against a lack of sleep after the Locket-Horcrux had taken the ability of getting a proper rest from him for months? Granted, he'd been able to doze off now and then and altogether gotten at least an hour of sleep each night instead of complete withdrawal, but he should really…

Those last thoughts also flew from his grasp as he finally crossed the border between the world of the waking and dreams. Dreams filled with experiences that weren't his, memories of the Slytherin dorms and old ruins in which he held speeches. Of battles and quiet afternoons reading, of red eyes in the mirror and red eyes that should have been green on the face of his partner, which came closer and-

A loud knock jerked him awake in the same moment that Harry knew the name 'Tom' left his lips. He clapped a hand over his mouth, wondering if he'd really said it or if it had been part of the dream itself.

''My Lord? Evan?'' came Barty's muffled voice through the door. ''It'll be noon in fifteen minutes.'' Before Harry could respond, footsteps indicated the other had left in a hurry again.

Behind him, Voldemort stirred and shifted, lips being pressed to the base of Harry's neck. ''I suppose I should show you my memories of last night soon,'' the Dark Lord spoke with a sleep-hoarse voice, confirming Harry's fear. ''Before our dreams take them out of context.'' Not entirely certain what his partner meant by that, Harry only nodded affirmingly. Having more information on the incomplete picture he had of the events that had transpired, was always better than being left in the dark. Not having succeeded in finding a definite way of contacting the Horcrux that resided somewhere in his body, mind or soul, Voldemort's memories of the short encounter described previously was the only way to find the answers to at least some of the burning questions Harry had. Such as why his partner appeared so confident in it not being dangerous after warning so often about the effects Horcruxes could have.

Finally awake enough from the nap to concentrate on more than a single topic at once, Harry's mind started racing to do exactly that, being bombarded with memories about all the craziness that had happened today. He needed a break. ''I hope you don't need my assistance for this ritual?'' the teen asked as he rolled onto his back, casting an appreciative glance at lean muscles as the other got out of bed and stretched, having taken the few seconds to undress earlier that Harry had not.

''Not unless you wish to spice up the sun worship with an added fertility rite,'' Voldemort casually mentioned. As soon as he realised what that implied, Harry's cheeks grew flaming hot.

''No thank you,'' he choked. ''As much as I'm looking forward to that promised night, I'd rather not passionately make out with you when my best friends are watching. Let alone Snape. They are all staying for this celebration, right?''

With a faint smirk, the older wizard spoke: ''Yes, and the Malfoys have also arrived. The more participants, the more powerful the effect. I prefer to have at least ten people present for this rite'' Unsure whether Voldemort was now talking about the Litha ritual itself or still going on about this fertility business, Harry opted to shift his partner's attention to something different as he also at last got to his feet.

''I actually wanted to clear something up still before we head downstairs. You were… rather open today in showing affection.'' If it would have remained at that cup of coffee, he'd have not said anything, but Voldemort had gone out of his way to not only tell Alecto off about the anaesthetic charm, but also instantly been at Harry's side after the duel and half-carried him inside. He'd been practically fussed over, the teen realised.

''Is that a problem?'' Voldemort asked coolly. ''You should have realised by now that I don't do anything by halves, Evan. With how things stand after last night…''

''Which I'm grateful for,'' he hurried to say as he noticed the air growing heavy instantly. ''And would certainly welcome at all times… if we hadn't had to wipe over a hundred minds after our last shared celebration of Magic. Don't forget that Lucius and Narcissa are still on the fence about my stay here breaking decorum. Besides, there is also the Carrows, whom I still don't know too much about other than the dry facts in their files... '' He thought of Snape as well, but it was much too late to do anything about the man knowing the extent of their relationship again now he'd witnessed the result of the love potion Voldemort made him brew. Not without erasing literal hours from the git's mind and risk damaging it in the process. At least Snape couldn't wield much influence over Harry's life and wasn't exactly the type to gossip.

''You know enough about them. I told you that after catching onto the uttered critique, the Carrows immediately planned to round up those who'd sullied my name in order to torture them for slander instead of fuelling the fire,'' the other mentioned with immense pleasure. ''Another reason I trusted them with more duties and closeness to me. They are among my most loyal and do not appear to care about the way I'm going about courting you, including broken rules. Your guardians also have less say here than they like to think. So, unless you wish to keep up some charade for your friends…''

Harry snorted at that. ''I kissed you full on the mouth with all of them watching and went to visit Hermione last weekend without covering up any of the bite marks you'd so tactfully left on my neck. You know I'm done hiding from them. In fact, I'd like to ask for your permission to tell them about last night.''

This didn't appear to lift Voldemort's mood at all. ''Which part of last night?'' he carefully asked, eyes suspiciously narrowing.

''All of it apart from Tom. Especially Sirius' remaining critique revolves around the same impression you gave me before: that you cannot truly love me. I'd like to set the record straight in hope it will finally make him cave about my pleas to no longer oppose our relationship. He hasn't done so openly anymore, but I can see clearly that he still disapproves. Telling him about the potion's results would be proof-''

''No,'' Voldemort denied him abruptly, decisively.

''But-''

''Evan,'' the other grimly spoke. ''You may tell them I love you if you so wish.'' Harry stiffened at the words, the silent implication of last night's events for the first time voiced by Voldemort himself, however indirect. ''You may even say you are convinced of the honesty of my feelings, but having Severus be aware of the lengths I went to discover my own emotions is already precarious. This is not information I can afford to have leaked. I made myself vulnerable, for you. The least you can do is respect my wishes to keep it as private as possible. I am already willing to show my human side instead of the untouchable image I build up before, by displaying my being involved with you. Any more than that would tarnish my reputation. How many do you think would think me suitable to lead a country if they knew I failed to recognise my own feelings and had to take a love potion to find out?''

Unfortunately, Harry could see where his partner was coming from. Arguing this further would only serve to agitate Voldemort. ''Okay.'' he accepted. ''I get it.''

''And regarding Wormtail,'' Voldemort warned, ''I urge you to be cautious about the details as well. You are well within your right to discuss it with others, but that does not free you from the consequences if they don't respond well, either to my involvement or by you going along with it on one of the first nights they left you alone since arriving here. I expressed my concern before that Black will wish to reverse his new living situation when he finds out. That I won't let him would lead to greater friction.''

Harry grumbled unhappily. ''I'd hoped not to start piling up new secrets after at last revealing so much to them,'' he finally said, feeling uneasy about it. ''Maybe… Maybe I'll tell Barty and Ron first. See how they react.''

''A wise compromise,'' Voldemort acknowledged with a dip of his head. ''Now come, cast these thoughts from your mind. We have something to celebrate.''

XxX

It felt too warm for the first day of summer, sun stinging his arms. Midsummer, he recalled from mum's stories. Back in the day, people had considered the solstice the middle of the season, not the start. It did fit better with how the weather felt, Ron thought, glad to not have been the one who had had to run around like a madman today. 'Mione's shirt had clung to her back with sweat until she'd gone to change.

''So, what's going on now?'' she muttered uncomfortably as they sat down on the grass together. They'd all been herded outside, being seated in the newly restored garden around a large pile of logs, twigs and hay. It had been haphazardly thrown together, as if Crouch didn't care at all for its shape.

''Litha,'' he answered, fingers scraping over the ground to gather some leftover wisps and bits of hay to twist into a sturdy ring like Charlie had taught him some years ago. His brother had been able to braid the stalks into entire necklaces too, which Ron didn't have nimble enough fingers for. Nor the patience. ''Surely, you've read a thing or two about this? I'm surprised we're gathering at noon though. Back when mum and dad still wanted to show us 'cultural outings', we'd go to hilltop bonfires near midnight.''

''I've read about the many different variations of summer solstice festivities,'' Hermione hesitantly answered. ''I am not entirely sure what version dark mages use. Although I can explain the time: for a festival that honours the sun, it makes most sense to have the main celebration when it's reached its height, doesn't it?''

Ron shrugged. ''Suppose. Doubt it'll look as nice though.''

''Magic does not care for pretty sights,'' they heard, and Ron looked up, shielding his eyes from the sun that illuminated Sirius. ''Between you and me,'' the man continued in a more hushed voice as he crouched down and threw them a grin. ''I think most of the whole worship is bogus of course. Nonetheless, fire magic is indeed strongest when the sun is high. Divination isn't the only branch of magic that is influenced by the alignment of celestial bodies. Most dark rites use the moon, but the sun can be mighty powerful too.''

All the while warily eying the Death Eaters and the other two Malfoys, who were muttering amongst themselves at the other side of the stack of wood, Hermione asked in a hopeful tone: ''Do you know what exactly to expect?''

Sirius held up his hands apologetically. ''Would have said with full confidence that I do, had I not already witnessed a Yule celebration led by him. My families' version was very bare bones compared to what a powerful mage who believes he's been blessed by magic can offer. I imagine that experience will be repeated today. Litha is pretty much the antithesis to Yule after all. Hey, have you guys seen Harry yet?''

Just as Ron was about to deny it, the veranda door opened, through which both Harry and You-Know-Who appeared, the latter wearing an outer robe with shimmering gold thread depicting solar patterns on black fabric. To Ron's great displeasure and fear, the gigantic snake he always attempted to avoid slithered out behind them.

Wearing a broad grin and looking much healthier than before, Harry rushed over to their side, only faltering mid-way when Narcissa Malfoy sharply cleared her throat. He looked a tad lost, and Ron recalled Harry ranting about having a fall-out with the woman earlier this week, after which they hadn't seen each other again. With slightly dragging feet, Harry went over to his new 'family', causing a pang of jealousy and envy both in Ron's chest. Immediately followed by shame as Harry clearly felt out of his depth too when Mrs Malfoy whispered something in his ear and showed a tense smile.

He could only breathe more easily when Harry managed to escape the Malfoy's clutches to join them, even if it came at the cost of having to deal with his personal nemesis as Draco trailed after his best friend and casually joined them. It didn't look like today's earlier defeat had knocked Draco's ego down a peg. Shame.

Before he could ask about what Mrs. Malfoy had said, Harry exasperatedly exclaimed: ''Oh, just sit in the grass like a normal person,'' when Draco attempted to enlarge a napkin he'd brought. ''You're being ridiculous.''

''My robes-''

''Will survive a green stain or two. Merlin, you've got magic.''

Draco didn't get a chance to come up with another scathing reply, as You-Know-Who drew his wand and spoke on a tone that demanded attention: ''My friends…'' His unnatural eyes shifted to their group. ''And allies. Come and gather.''

The adults scattered, sitting down in a circle around the large stack of wood, most of them with expectant and reverent gazes settling upon their Lord, the only one left standing. He looked at none of them in return, wide open eyes instead directed upwards towards the sun in a manner that couldn't be safe. Ron vaguely remembered his mother's scolding about turning blind. He quickly turned to Harry, but his friend didn't appear to be worried at all, looking at You-Know-Who like he was the second coming of Merlin.

When the older wizard spoke again, there was an echo of power behind it that distorted his already strange voice. It was as if Ron had been anchored to the ground by the ancient tremor that could be heard below.

''We are here once more today to rejoice all we've been blessed with. On this spoke of the wheel, we still for a moment, look back on all we've taken for granted as being selflessly given. Today, we pay the price for the past segment of the year and give a dowry for the next.''

You-Know-Who started circling now, wand held loosely and drawing figures into the air that turned into tiny, floating crystal balls that rose into the air, spinning around a few feet above their heads in complicated patterns.

''Oh sun high above,
your greatness and power
is awing and shines
like a beacon of love''

Ron felt the awe as soon as the man spoke of it, gaze drifting to the sky too now, seeing how the transparent orbs glinted under the blue sky. He blinked when sparks appeared, trails of them descending from above and jumping back and forth. Slowly, each of the conjured spheres started glowing.

''Child of greater stars
you alone receive
our adoring gaze
so bless our beating hearts,

Bless the fire we light
in your likeness
Your brightness
shall ease the coming path''

A hundred miniature suns flashed up and connected through beams of crisscrossing light. A loud crack thundered through the meadow as the beams turned into one and ignited the fire, but Ron didn't jump at all, having expected it, almost. From the corners of his eyes, he noticed that none of the others had moved either, Hermione taking in the display with a slack jaw and vacant expression.

''We will hold your divinity
hope springs eternal,
as our journey begins
we step with serenity

into the unknown darkness nocturnal''

He knew now why Sir Crouch hadn't bothered arranging the pile more than he had, for the entirety of wood and hay was set alight and rose, hovering and compressing into a ball as if their circle contained the true sun in their midst. Amidst the flames, he saw figures: gaping maws and wings, galloping deer, a log that turned into a burning snake that dwarfed the real one among them.

''Your powers allow us to create a reflection of that which is older than the earth. Fire contained a moment longer than nature foresaw. Let it bury our past and carry a lighter future, before the sun turns away from us once more. Speak now, all of you who hold grudges to be consumed by the eternal flame.''

He knew this part. Long dark and warm evenings of his childhood, grievances scribbled with stumps of charcoal on leftover parchment to cast it in the dying bonfire. It had felt relieving, even if Ron wasn't sure if it had ever really worked before. He still held that grudge against Fred and George for turning his teddy into a large spider. Ron visualised it once more now, the betrayal and hurt he'd felt at that prank, the deep-seeded hatred against his brothers, who'd thought it harmless, which Ron wished he could let go of. No thought was spared about what the other participants might think about this petty, childish grudge. He too was only vaguely aware of how one after the other got up and screamed into the sun, their words turning into spectacular displays of bursting flares as the sun caught their grievances and turned them to ash.

Legs moved on their own accord, and the scalding heat felt like it was going to melt his face off as Ron hurled his grudge into the ball of fire. Eight spindly flames shot out, then dissolved into the wind. And with it, all leftover resentment. With spinning head, Ron made it back to his spot, bewildered as he recalled the memory yet found nothing but vague peacefulness.

Some of those in the circle got up time and time again when their turn came, Sirius and Hermione most notably. He wondered how they could have built up so much resentment, but no matter how loud the screams, it was distorted enough not to understand a word. There might have been one or two more petty things Ron could have tried to let go of, but grudges were powerful things, and he did not wish to take more energy than necessary of the ever-shrinking imitation sun, not if others needed it more.

At long last, the sun's creator himself stepped forward, when the fire was only the size of a fist still, soaring above a pool of ashes. He spoke – no, hissed – a few syllables too, a single lick of fire turning into a fanged, open mouth that snapped close before the light dimmed entirely.

''Weasley,'' You-Know-Who spoke, and it took a moment before Ron realised he'd been addressed. Was the centre of attention now, in fact. Had he done or said something wrong? That fear was eased somewhat, yet replaced by several more as the man followed up with: ''There are few holy animals so important on this day as the icon of the sun itself. In tales of old, the sun lion would battle with the world serpent until it shed its skin, allowing for new change. Although I'd prefer my companion to remain unharmed, I'd like for this symbolism to crown the celebration.''

''I… I don't know…'' he stuttered, very much put on the spot. Ron had already expressed before that he wouldn't like to show his Animagus form to anyone else. Turning right here in front of the Malfoys, the Carrows and Snape…?

''Expecto Patronum!'' came a shout from the side. Before Ron could even risk You-Know-Who's ire by denying the request out of discomfort, a large silver lion shot out of Sirius' wand. Immense relief coursed through Ron's veins, and he threw his saviour a grateful smile. The glowing Patronus was magnificent, showing off its fangs with a snarl and prowling closer to the Dark Lord. ''How about this one?'' Harry's godfather grinned. ''It can't exactly fight your companion, but I have no doubt that any of you slimy Slytherins has a snake as a Patronus.''

''A non-corporeal image of an animal is hardly the same, Black,'' You-Know-Who offhandedly scoffed.

''Oh right, I forgot that Dumbledore mentioned that you probably can't feel enough to produce a Patronus,'' Sirius mocked. On the other side of the circle, Sir Crouch got to his feet with a warning growl. The other Death Eaters stirred as well, wands being drawn. Their Lord didn't look intimidated, Ron noted, holding up a hand to stop his followers.

''His feelings are perfectly genuine enough, Siri,'' Harry threw in, also standing now and looking far more defensive than You-Know-Who himself. ''You're not helping anyone with your accusations.''

''I was just trying to-''

''I know perfectly well what you were trying. Maybe you should have let go of a few more grudges when you had the chance.''

As quickly as it came, Harry's anger faded again, as if it was drained out of him by You-Know-Who' hand that grasped his shoulder now. ''There is no need for quarrels today, my love. The words of a man who was so wrong about everything in life matter little to me. Let us put this behind us so we can find a way to save our grace instead.'' None of them moved, Sirius especially looking as if he'd turned into stone. ''Is something the matter, Black?'' the older wizard spoke with a hint of amusement.

Sirius didn't answer, nor did anyone else apparently know what to say. Ron wished he could cut the tension somehow.

''Expecto Patronum!'' came an almost bored drawl from Ron's other side. He instinctively flinched as a large glowing snake twisted mid-air. Draco shot him a smug smirk. Right, he'd completely forgotten that the git's Patronus was something so predictable. Malfoy's position in Slytherin meant everything to him after all, so when the House's symbol had appeared from Draco's wand during their first Patronus practise in the D.A., it hadn't come as a surprise to anyone.

The animal slithered towards the lion, as if it had received instructions on what to do. Despite You-Know-Who's earlier words about non-corporeal images, the beasts made for a spectacular display, pouncing on each other, twirling and striking in a fascinating dance until Nagini released a loud hiss and got in between, chasing the Patroni with her fangs, making them both vanish in thin air.

''Jealous much?'' Harry laughed, gazing fondly at the animal. He followed it up with a short series of hisses, at which the snake curled up and lowered its head as if ashamed. Ron wasn't sure if that wasn't just wishful thinking on his part.

''A worthy addition, Draco,'' You-Know-Who said. ''Although next time, wait until you are called by your elders to contribute,'' he reprimanded. The blond bowed hastily, but Ron could see that stupid self-indulgent smirk didn't fade until Malfoy straightened again. Not that he could watch it for long, as You-Know-Who walked up to him again and gave a disapproving stare. ''Disappointing,'' he only muttered, and Ron felt wholly inadequate. Which was insane, for regardless of everything that had happened in the past weeks, or how important this man was to his best friend, Ron didn't feel any urge to worship You-Know-Who like so many of the others here did. Who cared if Ron wasn't impressive enough?

He could relax minimally again when crimson eyes no longer bore into his soul, and the celebration continued as if there had been no interruption at all. The rest of it was thankfully much less formal, seasonal food and drink appearing as everyone simply talked. Or barked in Sirius' case, who'd apparently found the best solution to his previous actions to be transforming into a loveable dog and sitting at Harry's side. He didn't even leave it when Harry went over to You-Know-Who to share the first fruits. They looked far too much like 'wholesome couple goals' as Harry sat in between the man's legs and shared food and a chaste kiss that the Malfoys looked scandalised by. His friend was going to get an earful once he was alone with his new guardians again for sure.

At least Ron finally got some quality time with both of his friends once a grinning Harry plopped in their midst again, which was worth a lot. It would have been far too much to ask to endure Draco's presence without having his best friend as a buffer.

''So, Harry'' Mione spoke with a frown. ''Want to tell us what kept you up so long last night that you almost dropped from exhaustion?''

Harry rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, eyes flickering to the other side of the circle, where his boyfriend was now speaking to the bunch of Death Eaters who were visiting. ''I haven't really processed all the details yet myself,'' Harry said. ''Went a bit far with trying to practise the Dark Arts on my own when I couldn't sleep. Err… had a short fight of sorts with Voldemort after he returned and pushed me further instead of helping me cope with the aftermath, which was finally mended – or more like pushed aside - when he admitted to genuinely being in love with me, which I never thought was going to happen. That's the short version.''

''I thought that was obvious,'' Ron blurted out before anyone else could give their opinions.

Harry blinked. ''What do you mean?''

Why couldn't he have stayed silent? It didn't help that You-Know-Who had on multiple occasions shown his ability to hear conversations through walls and whatnot. ''I mean,'' he continued slightly unwillingly. ''Just the way he talks about you, first of all. And all the little things, I guess. You told me about getting gifts and trips… and then there's the power he wants to share. When you handled the situation with Daphne…'' he could feel his own cheeks flare up red, not having wanted to be reminded of the time You-Know-Who had ravished Harry against a tree for 'influencing pawns and showing he could rule'. Hurriedly, he finished in an as silent whisper as possible: ''I'm only saying that he very much acts besotted around you, mate. Like, all the time.''

''O-oh,'' his friend replied, now also very embarrassed. ''I suppose we're both dense then. Well, now I just have to be quick about giving him something in return. Draco, how is my order coming along?''

''You told me you'd leave my involvement out!'' Malfoy hissed, suddenly highly uncomfortable. ''Go tell everyone that I have something to do with any gifts, will you?''

''If you ask so nicely,'' Harry said, finally managing a grin again. ''I could shout it off the rooftops for free advertisement.''

The teasing statement earned him a stink-eye. Abruptly, Draco drew his wand and cast a silencing barrier around them all for privacy. You-Know-Who reacted minimally, halting his speech briefly to critically look over his shoulder, which Malfoy clearly missed as he heatedly spoke: ''I got all the parts and finished it yesterday to get my mind off the exams. Wasn't easy so you owe me.''

''Sure, sure. I can do you a favour another time in return. I don't suppose you brought it?''

More uneasy shifting. ''Not as if I can let something so important out of my sight,'' Malfoy muttered, digging into the pockets of his robes to withdraw a small wooden box that he pressed into Harry's hands after making sure none of the adults were looking their way. ''Hey, don't open it now, Scarhead!''

Not listening, Harry cast a quick glance inside. Leaning in, Ron only caught a glint of silver. ''Brilliant,'' his friend breathed in relief, then snapped the box shut again. ''I really do owe you. Surely couldn't have gotten that anywhere else so fast even if we could have snuck out for shopping. Now for something else… Hermione, you've been in Paris, right?''

''Yes…?'' she asked hesitantly. ''We mostly visited the Muggle side though, all the regular tourist spots. Funnily enough, there isn't much of a magical community in that city. My parents asked about it to get more involved in my life, but there's barely three streets for shopping, including the supposedly famous Place Cachée. The truly bustling magical communities are all in Bretagne and the Pyrenees. So, if this is about date advice-''

Both Draco and Sirius were thrown a rather furious glare as one choked and the other let out a whine in the same moment. By Hermione, interestingly enough.

Harry didn't seem to notice, caught up in his own ideas. ''Ah, I wasn't thinking about the magical side at all. If anyone would see us there, we could cause a civil war. Literally. And having a date while he wears a disguise just doesn't feel the same. No, I tried to come up with places he might like and remembered that Dean once told me how wicked the catacombs were when visiting on a trip with his dad. Wanted your opinion too if possible.'' Ron wasn't the only one giving Harry a horrified stare now, who quickly tried to defend: ''Look, everyone is fond of different things. He happens to feel comfortable in places I consider creepy like damp caves and the Chamber of Secrets, but that isn't going to stop me from giving him this one thing. He's been more than accommodating by finding date locations I liked so far.''

''Underground tombs certainly fit into the creepy category,'' Hermione faintly stated. ''We didn't tour the Parisian ones, so I can't give you a first-hand account. However, I have read several different books and if your goal is to visit such a place without running into any people, I'd recommend the Odesa catacombs instead. They're ten times as large for one – an estimated 2500 miles instead of the 200 in Paris, and much less regulated. With the ability to apparate out, you could enter at any point without worrying about getting lost, avoiding all of the parts reachable to Muggles. There's supposed to be a hidden treasure in there too,'' she mentioned offhandedly. ''A solid golden model of a ship. As well as a vengeful deity of darkness protecting any treasures within the tunnels.'' She laughed at that. ''Most likely stories to scare children away.

Ron thought it sounded plenty scary even for people their age, but Harry only looked intrigued. ''Grave robbing and treasure hunting sounds right up Voldemort's alley,'' he cheerfully spoke. ''Thanks, Hermione!''

After that dubious statement that had Ron exchange a worried glance with Hermione, conversation turned to lighter topics. Even if he felt slightly left out as the other three debated about exam results and what was still to come, Ron was happier to sit back and listen to this than speculate about all the weird things his friend got up to. Including any unhinged info on You-Know-Who's taste in places for dates.

XxX

In retrospect, it was fitting that such turbulent events had happened on a day celebrating a turning point, Voldemort thought. A day all about holding onto the last bit of light before darkness would grow again. Grindelwald speaking of this Deathstick, his Horcrux' awakening, Harry's soul tearing, discovering his own emotions… They all signified greater things to come in the months ahead. All new factors to consider in the brewing storm.

So many pieces had finally been put where they needed to be. Only a few more shoves and tumbles to turn the political field enough in his favour that Voldemort could delve into magic again instead. To pick apart these changes, to welcome them as he turned his eye away from worldly matters. He already controlled the most influential press through Delacour, he held Hogwarts in his grasp through Severus, and soon he'd control the Ministry, once Dumbledore no longer stood in his way to interfere. All of it had happened much faster than originally anticipated, pawns stumbling into place through circumstances he'd only marginally controlled. Luck was with him for once. Did Magic have a hand in that?

''You're scheming again, aren't you?'' Harry asked. As soon as Voldemort had denied sleeping again so soon - the quick nap had been refreshing enough and he was itching to find more information than Grindelwald had revealed – Harry had refused to leave his side again, even if it meant foregoing sleep for a few hours more. They were enjoying the last bit of warmth outside now, after the festivities had long ended and their guests had returned home - joined by Barty, who wanted to still chatter away with Black.

Harry had also had a large hand in some of the past events, he noted with no small amount of satisfaction. The recent happenings in Hogwarts especially had come about solely due to his partner's actions.

''I'm always scheming,'' he answered. That much should have been obvious.

Harry pressed closer to his side, fingers trailing over the back of Voldemort's left hand in order to distract him. ''You act as if there isn't any time left of your immortal life sometimes.''

''Our immortal lives,'' he corrected absentmindedly, flipping a few pages in the book he'd hoped might hold some answers: 'Exotic wand cores and famous examples'. For a wand powerful enough to earn the name Deathstick surely had to be crafted from outstanding materials. ''I am also hardly the impatient one out of the two of us,'' he pointed out, attempting to subtly mention being able to feel Harry was on edge about something. He'd been on edge ever since the ritual, yet hadn't voiced any concerns so far. Voldemort could make a few educated guesses what held Harry's attention yet did not wish to make presumptions again.

''I've had far less time to get used to the idea.''

He merely hummed at that poor effort to steer their conversation into nothingness, waiting for Harry to tell him what was truly bothering the teen. Then, after minutes of silence: ''When Sirius confronted you today-''

Ah, so this was about Black again?

''-I was so sure you'd blow up at him. I almost blew up at him for being so rude to you. Besides, no matter how good you can act, I could feel your rage at his insinuation.''

''Of course I was furious at his evident challenge. He tried to discredit my skill in front of several of my followers, after all. Moreover, I had not expected that my ability or lack thereof to cast a Patronus charm was important enough of a subject to be gossip for Dumbledore to spread. However, turning my ire into action would have solidified his words into doubts which I would not have been able to dispel so easily. Both Black and young Malfoy then conjuring a corporeal Patronus would have damaged my reputation further. It was wiser to brush the matter off. Don't think it shall have no consequences though, Black isn't welcome here for the coming week at the very least. Cutting him off from you is about the only truly effective punishment by this point, don't you agree?''

He'd anticipated Harry to fight this decision, or at least complain about it having been made without waiting for input. To his great pleasure, Harry reluctantly nodded instead, likely well aware that Voldemort couldn't force him to cut off Black entirely. ''He was way out of line,'' the other mumbled. Then, he turned contemplative. ''Your main concern about this charm was the genuineness of your emotions… In light of your discovery that you can feel love, don't you think the same goes for happiness?''

An entertaining idea, but Voldemort doubted it was a helpful one. ''I studied this emotion before and made it my own,'' he curtly stated. ''Years ago. It was never enough to produce even a wisp.''

Never one to give up easily, Harry countered: ''Maybe your memories weren't powerful enough. Both when analysing your feelings and when picking up everything you exude when I'm near you, there's been plenty of times where I couldn't distinguish your happiness from my own. I offered before that I could try teaching you this spell, didn't I? Isn't it worth a try at least?''

The Dark Lord considered it, uncomfortable as a small amount of fear whispered of failure. Was it worth it? He had nothing to truly gain from the spell itself, as he neither needed a defence against Dementors nor would he add more light magic to his regular repertoire by using it as a messenger. However, as a Lord of Magic, should he not be able to cast every single spell he wished to at his whim…? ''I am not doing this to prove Black wrong,'' he warned.

''I'm aware. Trust me.''

Voldemort had always been of the opinion that trust was only given by fools. ''What is it that I should do?'' he nevertheless asked.

The dashing smile was almost worth the fear of shame. ''Just concentrate. You need to search for a memory in which all you felt was joy. Recall it. Close your eyes and picture it clearly.''

Even more reluctant now, tensing up as he cut off his own sight against all common sense, Voldemort attempted to follow Harry's instructions. It was a struggle, even when his partner recommended to instead think of the actions that had brought these emotions forth.

He'd been content before, especially when it came to their relationship: their talks and dreams, the quiet moments after successfully resolving arguments, jointly attended events, their destruction of the Hall of Prophecies to defy fate together. He had not lied when declaring that breaking apart would end in the destruction of either of them, the mere thought driving him to the edge of consuming rage and grief, nor had it been an attempt at deception when proclaiming Harry his equal. Finding a moment in which all he'd known was joy, though?

The memory he had used when Harry had analysed his feelings had been from about a year ago, when the teen had shown such exuberance over being picked up from his family's house. He'd felt something akin to joy then, at being so welcomed. Yet the memory was overshadowed by anger towards those Muggles, making a recollection of that event likely unusable for this. Another that drifted to mind was his discovery after taking the love potion, but his own initial denial and suspicion at Severus' lengthy explanation muddled that, too.

''When were these instances during which you could not entangle your own happiness from mine?'' he thus asked, tensing up when realising he was making himself vulnerable again.

In the few moments of silence that dragged on, he expected his partner to give up on him. Or worse, scoff at his inability to do this independently. It had been a miserable idea in the first place, one he fully blamed-

''Most strongly?'' Harry asked, a sad note surrounding him like an invisible halo. ''Yesterday night. When I walked briefly on the same path you did.''

Voldemort's breath ceased. Yes, that one moment of pure exuberance, when Harry had accepted all he was without turning away. At last, the confirmation he'd been waiting for, to see his partner's strength match his own. He recalled the sight clearly, the curse falling from his darling's lips, the green wave rushing through Pettigrew, a warmth spreading in his own chest.

It wasn't necessary to confirm whether this was the right memory as he grasped hold of that sheer delight once more, his partner could feel it just as well in the same moment. A slightly altered version of it echoed back: Harry's own, softer joy. It spoke volumes that Harry once more did not condemn him for these thoughts, for his strongest memory of happiness to involve murder.

''Now lift your wand – don't let the feeling slip, don't break concentration. Just lift your wand into the sky and repeat: Expecto Patronum.''

The strength of their connection was of such an intense nature in that moment that the incantation left him in the very same moment that Harry uttered the words. Bright silver light permeated his eyelids.

''Whoa-'' The awed exclamation made his eyes fly open. Frozen, the Dark Lord stared at the feathered wings of his shining Patronus.

''Is that-'' he whispered.

''A Phoenix?'' his partner asked excitedly. ''I heard magical creatures are super rare! And a corporeal one on your first try. Well, suppose I shouldn't have expected any less. Makes me kind of useless as a teacher,'' he grinned. Before Voldemort could think about all the implications, Harry continued to rattle: ''You know, I'd really been betting on a copy of Nagini. Good that I didn't tell her about my speculations, she'd be sulking for months if she'd have been disappointed so.'' He turned more contemplative, then. ''Funny, back when you first introduced me to Necromancy, I imagined this would have been a good symbol for you, had it not previously been claimed by your sworn enemies. The way your burned yourself and rose from the ashes…''

''I did consider it,'' he admitted, still staring at the bright guardian he'd called forth as he tried to shake from his daze. It circled around their heads and sang, irregular tones that rejuvenated them both. ''When I first formed the Knights of Walpurgis.'' Voldemort grasped his wand with both hands now, inspecting the white wood. ''Phoenix feathers are considered one of the most powerful wand cores, and mine certainly served me well. My quest for immortality also came to mind. It was unfortunate that the Professor I loathed had a Phoenix companion. In the end, I did not wish to affiliate myself with him and chose a snake instead to honour my ancestral gift of Parseltongue.''

Strings of light unravelled mid-air, the Patronus losing form, then disappearing from sight altogether.

''You have your answer now,'' the Gryffindor pointed out. ''About the authenticity of your newfound emotions.''

''Yes… nothing artificial could have sufficed.'' He needed to reflect upon this for a while. The other outcome to this attempt, being unable to call a Patronus regardless of his perceived expanded range of emotions, had been far more realistic in his mind. In contrast to his partner's optimism, Voldemort had attempted to remain realistic instead of hopeful. He tried not to be sour about a fifteen-year-old holding more knowledge than he did about this aspect of magic.

''Seriously?'' Harry asked upon feeling the tiniest smidge of it leak through nonetheless.

''I've meticulously studied every area of magic since I was eleven. Almost six decades,'' he defended.

The teen gave a funny look, then burst into bright laughter. Had his successful casting of the Patronus charm been so uplifting to witness?

''Never change, love,'' Harry spoke, leaning in for a kiss. Like earlier, the endearment felt warm, and Voldemort imagined he could get used to this.

''I don't intend to,'' he answered, too late. The Patronus must have taken more of a toll than anticipated, for his usually quick mind had been far too slow in reacting, still stuck on that last fond word. Brusquely, he seized control of his own limbs.

''Congratulations on successfully mastering this charm. By the way, I still have something for you. Wasn't exactly meant as a reward or anything, but it might be fitting to give it to you now nonetheless, before we both get caught up in busy schedules again.''

''You should be caught up in a busy schedule right now,'' Voldemort reminded. ''You still have two practical exams tomorrow, and next week is filled as well.''

Harry grimaced. ''I'm aware. Don't worry, I won't slack off.''

Putting his wand away, Voldemort waited with faint curiosity. This gift had to have been the one that caused young Malfoy to throw up a silencing barrier. What exactly had Lucius' spawn brought to the table that Harry could not? He quietly accepted the plain wooden box from his suddenly incredibly nervous partner.

Inside, he found an impressive piece of craftmanship: a silver chain made of intertwining rings, each individual one carefully adorned with a pattern of miniature scales. Two charms dangled from the end of it, two runes carved from different materials: a sowilu of sunstone and an eihwaz of polished yew wood, bleached as white as his wand. No magic seeped from the runes themselves, so they had not been enchanted. The symbolism itself was still strong enough. As he took it out, he noticed the ends of the chain melded together seamlessly, forming a small bracelet.

''You said I could get a- a token,'' his partner explained, carefully taking the piece from his hands again. ''May I?'' he breathed.

He hadn't cared much for Harry's need to show their connection in a physical way beyond acknowledging that need existed and should be addressed. It had been easiest to do so by simply agreeing, especially as it was indeed unfair that he'd left a mark without receiving one in return. Now he held the gift in his hands, which his partner had clearly put much thought into, he felt more touched than he liked to admit.

Voldemort wondered briefly whether it would be acceptable to take this without entirely clearing up their quarrel of last night. Moreover, Harry was still wholly unaware of the Horcrux's actions. He shook that doubt off. Not a single change in their lives would be enough to make the strength of their bonds ever waver now. It was only fitting, then, to show it off in one more way. ''You may,'' he spoke, resolutely offering his wrist, then was instantly thrown when Harry only lifted his hand to kiss the knuckles, flashed a smirk and got down on his knees.

Curious, he waited as Harry slightly lifted the hem of his robes , gently grasping his foot instead, pulling it towards him to fasten the chain around his ankle. Moving his foot to feel the charms tinkle against the protruding piece of bone, Voldemort admitted it was more practical. Especially when casting magic, different materials could influence the flow of magic. As he did not only use his wand with his dominant left hand, it was thoughtful of Harry to not give him jewellery that might hamper his spellwork in any way.

''That looks far sexier,'' the teen grinned, ducking his head, yelping indignantly when Voldemort 'rewarded' him with a stinging spell.

It was his own fault for dating a teenager, he supposed.

---

AN: Yes Voldemort, it's entirely your own fault haha. Hope you guys liked this chapter despite all the switches in POV's ^^'' I somehow couldn't stick to one, too many angles to show. Next up (planned at least): Harry finally gets all that missing info, the O.W.L.s commence and a Dumbledore POV.

On another note: I need to work out some stuff with the overarching Plot in the coming chapters, plus I am going on holiday in a couple of weeks, so both the next chapter and the one after will come out in 4 weeks instead of the usual 3. I'm very sorry about the delay.

Please Read and Review!