Harry could hear Voldemort swear from the kitchen. Something he rarely did. Entering Harry could see him clutching his hand and blood was dripping down and onto the floor.
He looked up from the mess as Harry entered, the lines in his face tense with pain. A knife on the counter was apparently the culprit. The tip was stained in blood. Beside it there were some herbs that Voldemort apparently had been chopping.
"Here," Harry said, holding out his hand as he drew his wand. Voldemort hesitated for a heartbeat before putting his hand in Harry's. His eyes followed the motion as Harry sealed the rather ugly looking wound before banishing the blood on his hands and the floor.
Voldemort withdrew his hand and flexed it. "Thank you," he said quietly. He had been quiet the whole day, keeping out of the way and curling up outside under his usual tree with a book. Harry couldn't criticise him for not doing anything around the house for once. The whole thing was spotless. He couldn't really fault Voldemort for anything and that was starting to become a tad annoying as Harry wished for an excuse to take some of his pent up energy out on Voldemort.
Turning towards the counter he noticed one of the cooking books Harry had bought him was open on a page that showed a pasta dish. "What are you making?" Harry asked curiously, leaning over to look.
"Pasta bolognese," Voldemort answered.
Harry glanced at the pot boiling with something that looked like a tomato based sauce. It smelled good.
"I will call you when it's finished." The tone made it clear that he wanted Harry out of the kitchen. Preferably out of the house, Harry assumed, never to return again.
He nodded. "Good."
######
He couldn't sleep. He kept tossing and turning. His thoughts turned to Voldemort as they so often did. What was he supposed to do about his now unwanted houseguest? He should have simply killed him that day, not kept him like some sort of pet.
You have already had this discussion, his subconscious reminded him. Yes, that was true. He wanted to keep Voldemort. Being able to keep the dangerous man locked up and as a prisoner, having him obey even when he did not want to. It was a power rush like no other he had ever felt, but a part of him had started to enjoy the incidents where Voldemort obeyed without force much more than the times Harry had to force him. He was getting tired of the constant battle of power that came with keeping Voldemort in his place.
It had been four years now. The blinding need to hurt the man was almost gone. Although on some days he did miss taking his frustration out on the man. He still could but something stopped him. If the man did disobey then he would punish him but he couldn't longer find it in himself to hurt him for the sake of hurting him.
The problem was that Harry regretted that promise to send Voldemort to the basement permanently if he disobeyed. It was nice to have Voldemort in the house and as much as he wanted Voldemort to act out so that he could punish him, he didn't want to send the man back to the basement for good. Which was what he had promised to do.
He was starting to want for a Voldemort that wanted to obey him. That he didn't have to keep locked up. Of course letting Voldemort loose in the world was not an option. Although there was a limit to how much damage a previous Dark Lord without money, papers and magic could do in North Ireland. He wouldn't even make it off the island without help.
Death Eaters were not popular in North Ireland even though the country had not been directly involved in the two wars Voldemort had started.
######
May came as it did every year and along with it the annual celebration of the Battle at Hogwarts.
Harry managed to suffer through it as he did every year. The only difference from previous years was that he fled to his countryside house as soon as he could escape the party.
He landed on the doorstep to the small house and breathed in the fresh air for a moment before opening the door.
The sight he was met with could only be described as a complete chaos. It looked like a tornado had thundered through the hallway and when he looked into the living room it was not much better. Furniture was overturned. Lamps and other things were broken. There was glass everywhere. There were feathers from the pillows all over the floor and some was stilling floating in the air.
Pictures had been torn from the walls. In all it looked like what it was - a complete mess. The room had been completely destroyed.
In the middle of the room he found Voldemort. He was kneeling on the floor, panting and clutching his hand and arm that was bleeding. The blood ran down his arm and hand and onto the floor. He was breathing hard and both his clothes and his appearance were in a disarray. He didn't notice Harry until he stepped into the room and as he did he froze like a deer caught in the headlights of a car.
"What the hell?" Harry exclaimed and looked around himself at the completely wrecked living room. Anger rose in him as he rounded on Voldemort. He grabbed him by the chin and forced his head up. "Care to explain, pet?" He snarled and waved a hand in the air to indicate that he meant the mess around them.
Voldemort kept his eyes lowered. Harry felt the need to shake him senseless. What the hell had bitten the man? He had been well behaved for a long time. So long in fact that Harry couldn't remember the last time he had punished the man.
This however. This was not something he could let Voldemort get away with. Damned it, he thought and felt the anger rise. This also meant he had to follow through on his promise to Voldemort about the consequences of him misbehaving.
Then he noticed the blood that was seeping onto the floor. Crouching down he pulled out his wand as he picked up Voldemort's hands. They were covered in blood. There were several cuts on his arms too that were bleeding. Voldemort gave a small flinch at the sight of the wand but didn't protest when Harry started healing the cuts and bruises.
Once he was done he put the wand away. "Clean up this mess, pet."
"How?"
It wasn't the question that made Harry frown, it was the voice. Voldemort sounded exhausted and defeated and lost. He was still staring at the ground and there was a slump to his posture that made him seem small. Harry could feel the anger disappear. He wasn't sure why Voldemort had acted out like that but it had to be something more than him simply being bad.
"Magic. The reparo spell should do the trick. I assume you are powerful enough to do it wandless."
That made Voldemort look at him. He looked about as exhausted and defeated as he sounded but there was a spark of something in his eyes. He lifted his now healed hand and the pieces of a broken vase rose and came together. The repair was flawless.
Harry nodded and rose. He left the room and wandered down to the basement and the cell. The wards needed to be strengthened after not having been used for a while.
Staring into the empty cell he sighed and rubbed a hand over his eyes. This was actually one thing he didn't want to do. He could of course refrain but that would cause other problems as Voldemort would see it as a weakness to be exploited.
The cell was as empty as it had always been. Perhaps…
After opening a couple of the doors to the storage rooms he finally found one with a bed. He shrunk the bed and took it with him back to the cell where he reversed the process and put the bed in the corner that Voldemort had normally used to favour. The one furthest away from the wards.
Making his way back up he was not surprised to find that the hallway and living room was now back to perfect condition. Voldemort was still kneeling in the middle of the room. It didn't seem like he had moved at all.
Casting a glance around the room he nodded to himself. Everything seemed to be in order. "Come," he ordered and turned.
He could hear Voldemort shuffle to his feet and then the sound of footsteps behind him. He was a little surprised that Voldemort hadn't spoken or tried to bargain his way out of being locked up in the basement again.
When they reached the cell Voldemort simply walked in and stopped in the middle of the room. His arms were wrapped around himself. He didn't turn around when he spoke. "What will it be this time? Another whipping, the cruciatus curse or perhaps something new?"
Harry frowned and felt a small flicker of worry gnaw at him. Voldemort did seem a bit off. As for punishing him… Harry couldn't find it himself to do more than what he was already doing.
"Neither."
Voldemort turned and the same hopeless and defeated look that had been on his face upstairs was still present. "This is it then? You are going to leave me here for the rest of time?"
"I told you. I warned you."
To his surprise Voldemort simply nodded. Harry had expected a bit more. A fight, an attempt to bargain. A protest - something at least. Not this quiet acceptance. Pulling out his wand he accioed the blue blanket he had given Voldemort all those years ago. He folded it and threw it just inside of the wards.
Then he turned and exited.