Everything is J.K. Rowlings. I only claim the plot. Everything else is hers, all the characters and the magic, all of it. Please let me know what you think though, I encourage feedback of all kinds, just be nice about it!

This is a really short chapter but I'm posting the next soon to make up for it. So again, Voldemort is sane in this story. Also, any ideas about Severus Snape please let me know. I still don't know what to do with him. Please let me know what you think, but be decent about it.

Prove It

"My Lord, I have brought you Harry Potter."

The explanation was a little unnecessary in Harry's opinion but he kept silent as he stared at the Dark Wizard before him who was stepping off the dais and approaching Harry and Malfoy. The man was just as snake-like as he remembered and he fought nausea that turned in his stomach.

"Yes, I see that."

Malfoy must have taken that as a dismissal because he backed away to the front row of the encircling crowd with his head bowed. Harry caught a glimpse of him standing next to his father who didn't look like Azkaban suited him. Luckily it seemed that Bellatrix wasn't present, Harry wasn't sure if he could have controlled himself if he had seen her deranged face.

"Well, well, Potter. I must admit you have surprised me," the man hissed, his red eyes tracing the length of him, probably taking in the rumpled clothing as well as the dirt and sweat mixture streaking his bruised and scarred skin. Harry refused to avert his eyes from Voldemorts gaze though. He may be coming to make a deal with the devil himself but he was not one of the man's little minions. "I was not expecting you to be such an eager volunteer." A few of the brave Death Eaters chuckled but Harry kept his head held high.

"I wouldn't exactly call myself a volunteer, so much as a man wanting to make a deal." Harry hadn't spoken loudly but his voice carried much the same way Voldemorts was doing. He wondered if the man had cast some spell to make it so that every word was heard.

"A deal you say? What could you offer me?" The monster before him continued as though his minion hadn't spoken.

"Quite a few things. Whether I give them is depending on how much incentive I get." His heart was pounding and his hands were sweating but he kept his voice even with every bit of willpower he possessed. At the moment he had no cards but he had to act like he held them all if he wanted to stay alive.

Voldemort actually chuckled at this and it didn't sound snakey it actually sounded human. How odd. "I do appreciate your spirit, Potter, but might I remind you that you are the man who begged to come before me. Had a change of heart, have you, Potter?" The man mocked him and his fellow minions snickered.

"You could say that," he replied which shocked most of the followers into silence. Voldemorts eyes flickered with curiosity but he didn't show anything else. "Turns out we have a common enemy now."

"Oh?"

"Albus Dumbledore." The red eyes widened momentarily before narrowing once again.

"Explain."

"It has come to my realization that Dumbledore is not the great man I was lead to believe. This was made obvious to me after being tortured by him and his sidekicks for five days. I've only just escaped with the help of some friends."

"Tortured? Dumbledore tortured his savior?" Voldemort repeated, obviously not believing a word.

"Yes, torture. At least that's what I call being subjected to the Cruciatous consecutively multiple times a day."

There was a flicker of surprise in Voldemorts crimson depths as he stared deeply into Harry's own as if trying to see the truth. However, Harry realized that along with improved eyesight, his ability to kill, and the little mark, his Occlumency shields had improved. He had realized this when Dumbledore had tried Legilimency on him in the dungeon and couldn't read anything. Of course, at the time he hadn't understood why.

"And why, Potter, would Dumbledore see fit to put his little Savior under such a curse?"

Harry steeled himself once more. He had known this would be the result of this meeting but he was still nervous at revealing his mark. Sure, he had shown the Slytherins but he had been desperate and hadn't really been able to think things through. Now he would be showing not only Voldemort but the Death Eaters as well.

Gathering up that Gryffindor courage, he raised his hands to the shirt collar and pulled down; revealing the mark to the room. "Look familiar?" he asked quietly, watching Voldemorts face for the moment of recognition. He didn't have to wait long, he heard gasps among the Death Eaters, knowing they recognized it too. "Apparently, this means I've gone Dark. Can't have the Light's Savior turn Dark, now can we?" His voice was soft but the bitterness that edged it was clearly evident. "So Dumbledore saw to trying to cure me when his attempt at binding me failed."

Voldemorts' eyes flicked from the symbol to Harry's face multiple times as he processed Harry's words. "Dumbledore tried to bind your inheritance?" He asked slowly. Harry nodded and released his shirt collar. "That would have killed you."

"So I've been told," Harry replied simply. Voldemort glanced at him once more before starting to pace, obviously thinking everything through.

"Prove it." Harry blinked. He hadn't been expecting that, though he really should have. Of course, Voldemort wouldn't just trust the mark he would need evidence.

"Fair enough. There is just a slight problem." Voldemort looked gleeful as if he was being proven right that Harry was lying. Harry saw him fingering the yew wand. "I can't control it. As of right now, it seems that I need strong emotions, typically anger or fear in order for it to work."

"How have you come to this reasoning?"

"I've already killed twice," Harry replied simply. "My uncle and a woman Dumbledore enlisted in the binding ritual. Both had heightened emotions involved." Voldemort seemed to be considering this. If Harry stared at the man intently enough he could almost forget their silent audience.

"You mean to say that you don't feel anger towards me?" His question seemed almost innocently curious and Harry could understand why.

"No, I don't. I mean I can't very well hate the man who might be my ticket to better things."

"Then who?"

Harry thought about that for a moment. "Two people. Bellatrix Lestrange or Peter Pettigrew. Take your pick." Harry hated them both and so he wasn't too fussed about which he would have to kill to prove his honesty. He hated Dolores Umbridge too but it would take more time to bring her here.

"Wormtail, come forward," Voldemort finally said and there was a sniveling whimper at the outskirt of the crowd. Just the sound made Harry sneer in disgust and he didn't even bother to hide his revulsion, which seemed to intrigue Voldemort whose eyes never left his face as the crowd parted and someone pushed Pettigrew forward. The crowd closed up again and Harry caught a few eager faces but he ignored them.

Instead, he focused on Pettigrew. The man who had betrayed his parents. The man who helped cause him to be an orphan. The man who had framed Sirius, helping instigate the events which led him to the Dursley's doorstep. This man might not have directly done any of it but his cowardice was definitely the precipice from where it all cascaded down. Harry felt his hatred about the Dursleys, his hatred over Sirius's imprisonment, his hatred over his parents' deaths engulf him as he stared at the sniveling rat-like man. He wondered absently if the ease at which anger and hatred overtook him should be cause for worry. The man in question was prostrating himself between Voldemort and Harry as if unsure who he should be showing the most attention.

The hatred came to a boiling point as Harry felt the icy fire start to slide down his skin once again and the heady high engulfed his senses once more, he breathed out a sigh of relief and satisfaction as the feeling claimed him. He gracefully offered down his hand to the man on the floor. Startled and still unsure about what was happening because he had been in the back and too short to see what was occurring, Pettigrew took hold of Harry's offered hand only to then start gasping as the air left his lungs. He couldn't pull his hand away as his skin slowly started to turn grey. Harry again observed everything very calmly while he felt the icy fire obey his wishes and basked in the power rush he was feeling. He hadn't really been able to observe his power before. With his uncle, it had all happened so fast and then he had been stunned and the woman had been farther away.

Pettigrew finally gave a last gasp before crumpling to the floor, grey and lifeless, his hand finally free to fall from Harry's grasp. Harry was oblivious to all around him while he continued to absorb and revel in the high the death produced. Another death justly delivered, some primal part of him thought with satisfaction. After probably a minute or so, Harry was able to gather control of himself once again and come back to reality, though he still felt slightly dazed.

He saw the awed and fearful gazes from the Death Eaters out of his peripherals but he only stared into the red eyes of Voldemort who looked like he had just been given his Christmas gift early. At least judging by his eyes, the rest of his face remained impassive.

"Well, well, well, it seems you were telling the truth. Harry Potter is a Necromancer." The words were whispered but carried across the room and Harry felt a chill creep up his spine as the words caressed him. "Yes, I do believe we can make a deal now." Harry refused to show the relief that he felt at those words and merely nodded.

"Great. However, might we retire somewhere privately? I don't want to conduct negotiations on such a public scale, no matter how captivated our audience."

"How can I know you don't still work for Dumbledore and will use your gifts against me?" The man didn't seem at all concerned about this possibility, merely seeming to ask out of formality.

"You don't," Harry shrugged with a small grin. "But are you going to let that stop you from hearing this deal of mine?"

Voldemort continued observing him for another minute before conceding his head in a regal nod. "Very well. Leave us." The hissed words hung in the air a moment before the Death Eaters caught on to the dismissal order and scampered out of the hallway to where they could apparate away. Harry spotted his classmates, out of the corner of his eye because he refused to be the first to drop his gaze, looking back at him while their parents dragged them out. There were a few minions that lingered, possibly concerned over leaving their Master with a Necromancer. Harry assumed they were the Inner Circle but Voldemort dismissed them as well.

Once they were alone, Voldemort then gestured for Harry to follow him into a side room. Nervously, Harry followed the man and couldn't help his surprise at the sight of a small sitting room. It held two plush couches of dark green and a dark wooden coffee table atop a decorative rug with some bookshelves lining the walls. It was rather cozy and incredibly offputting.

Voldemort sat down in one of the couches and gestured for Harry to take the other one. Stiffly, Harry did so and felt incredibly awkward compared to the snake-like man across from him. The two former enemies sat in silence, both observing the other. The man across from him was just as vivid as the one in his nightmares, there was no difference between this monster and the one from his past: the same slitted nostrils, the same alabaster skin, the bald head, the crimson eyes, the skeletal hands.

Could he really do this?

"So you wanted to make a deal. I'm listening, Harry Potter."