The most wonderful idea

Summary: One of the things Voldemort feared the most was when Harry Potter got an idea. It usually meant chaos, no matter what the original intention was.

Pairing/s: SiriusSeverus.

Warnings: OOC characters, sort of evil!Harry, some violence and gore.

Disclaimers: I don't own Harry Potter nor do I make any money writing fanfiction.


Not really what I had planned for a Christmas fic, but I like it anyway. Enjoy!


Voldemort didn't fear many things. Death was one thing, one that he hated to fear. But he conquered it in the end and had made sure he'd live for a long, long time.

What he feared was when Harry Potter came into his office and said:

"I have a wonderful idea."

Ideas and Harry Potter usually meant chaos, often blood and gore involved. Voldemort wasn't bothered with blood and gore, but Harry's ideas tended to make him feel like having a heart attack and he wished he died just for a little while so he could escape the brat.

Yes, Harry was over thirty years old but he would always be a brat in Voldemort's eyes.

This time as Harry entered the office, Voldemort glanced up from his papers and then said:


"I haven't even asked!" Harry said and pouted.

"Don't care, no."

"Voldemort," he sing-songed, throwing himself into the stuffed armchair Voldemort had placed by the desk just for him. It was Harry's chair, and both he and Voldemort had cursed people who dared to sit in it. "Come on, it's not that bad."

"It's always bad when it comes to you."



"Pretty please?"


He would not look up. Voldemort had learnt his lesson. Do not look up. Harry had this trick with his eyes that made everyone give in, Severus Snape included. Harry could do things with his eyes, express such emotions that he fooled everyone.

Fooled Dumbledore into thinking he was scared of Voldemort, when really, he wasn't. Fooled his friends into thinking he cared about them, when Harry's ultimate goal was to make Dumbledore pay for leaving him with the Dursleys, and then not give a shit. Those who wished to come with him, fine. The others would quite literally be left in the dust.

Thankfully, when he met Voldemort Harry took one look at him at the back of Quirrell's head and said:

"You've got to get a body of your own."

And then given him the Philosopher's Stone. Voldemort had no idea how Harry lied his way out of that later, only that he didn't get into trouble and no one thought he was evil.

He wasn't born evil, like Voldemort hadn't been born evil. They had grown up to become evil. Harry did so with more grace, and better at concealing said evilness. No one suspected a thing. Voldemort only knew early on because Harry showed him.

"Voldemort, look at me."

"I've learnt my lesson," Voldemort said. "Whatever idea walked into your head, make it go away."

"It's not bad."

"Like I said, it's always bad when it comes to you."

"Don't be boring."

"I'm being realistic. Now leave me alone."

He saw Harry get up, and then Harry draped himself over Voldemort's back. Yes, he was over thirty years old but he had spent his entire childhood without affection and apparently liked to hug Voldemort more than he liked to hug anyone else, his friends included. Voldemort had to admit it was rather nice.

He shook his head.

"Not working," he growled.

"Voldemort… a most wonderful idea."

"Don't say that, I know what will happen. I'll be standing there covered in someone's guts and I'll still forgive you."

"So what's the problem then?"

"How about we don't make the guts happen at all?"

"Won't you even listen to my idea?"

Don't look at him, don't look at him, don't look at him… Voldemort glanced up, and looked at him. Damn.

"What is it?" he managed to get out.

"Christmas ball."

Well… it doesn't sound that bad. Then again, Harry suggested a picnic this summer and it still ended up with Voldemort covered in someone else's guts. It was an enemy, mind, but guts and robes didn't mix. At least Harry bought him new robes, or rather, Voldemort picked out the robes and Harry paid for them.


"At the open manor, not here. This is a private manor."

"Who would be there?"

"Just a few friends."

"Doubtful it'll be just a few."

"Well, you've got more friends than me."

"That's a rotten lie, and we both know it," Voldemort said as Harry walked back to his chair. "Your charming words would fool anyone. It fooled Dumbledore for seven years."

"Not my fault he's an idiot."

"It fooled your school friends as well," Voldemort continued. "I'm still surprised those Weasley boys stayed with you."

"Ron may look and act dumb at times, but he's a strategist," Harry said. "That, and what I offered him was far more than his family ever could. He likes me. The twins like me too."

"You don't feel you betrayed the girl?"

"Hermione? No. Her thoughts were so… odd. She saw everything in black and white. Never in between. Such a sticker for rules, and thinking Dumbledore was the god of magic. Well, she learnt that was wrong when we killed him."

Harry laughed, and then looked at Voldemort.

"As for the rest of them, who cares? I don't," he continued.

"They do. The ones that still live. A Christmas ball sounds fine, but at the open manor? It could leave you vulnerable to attack." Especially after they killed Dumbledore. Granted, it had been well over ten years ago but some people hold grudges far too long.

"We'll seal it off. Hang on, it is sealed off."

"Not as good as this place," Voldemort said. "The open manor is just that; open. People could get inside with enough power and will."

"Hardly a problem."

"Well, that is your problem, thinking others aren't a problem. Why don't you have a small party with your closest friends?"

"I want a ball. Finger food and stuff like that."

Voldemort sighed. It was easier to give Harry what he wanted than argue; the brat could do it for hours until he had Voldemort sobbing at the floor, begging him to just stop talking.

"Fine," Voldemort said. "But I am having people surrounding that bloody house."

"You're the best!"

With that, Harry kissed him on the cheek and danced out. Voldemort sighed and wondered what the hell he had just agreed to.


"Hang on," Harry said a while later, "I work at the Ministry and don't get attacked."

"They aren't that stupid to be attacking you in a public space."

"Then you greatly underestimate their stupidity. Haven't you learned how stupid they are?"

"Harry, just… just eat your food."

"I'm not a child, stop commanding me."

"I didn't stop becoming a Dark Lord, all I ever do is to command people."

Harry then showed how very mature he was by sticking out his tongue. Voldemort groaned.


Voldemort soon realized he had agreed to be annoyed by others at every turn for weeks and weeks before Christmas even arrived. He could deal with Harry annoying him, Voldemort had had some twenty years to get used to it, but Harry's friends usually stayed away from him. Not now.

Fred and George, owners of a joke shop Harry helped finance, popped out of everywhere with suggestions of decorations, dodging Voldemort's spells whilst showing what kind of food they would like Harry to have. Since they spoiled Harry almost as badly as Voldemort did, there was a lot of food. It was a miracle Harry was still so thin.

Well, that was not the point. The point was that the twins kept annoying him at every turn, and Voldemort's hexes didn't stop them at all, not even when George sprouted boils all over his face for the better part of a day.

Ron was more subtle, actually knocking on the door before entering. He worked alongside Harry at the Ministry, directly under Lucius Malfoy and thus both were given a lot of free time. They kept pawns as Minister, as Lucius preferred to be the ruler in the shadows and to be honest, Voldemort liked that too. It kept the public less panicked as well, and they made sure to pick a Minister that gave a good impression, being friendly and open whilst listening to Lucius and Voldemort when it came to the politics.

"Your brothers have already been here, nagging at me," Voldemort said.

"I'm not here to nag. Harry convinced you to have the ball."

"You're saying that now? He must have fire-called you the moment I allowed it."

"No, he just stepped through the fire and threw himself around my neck while screaming that to me," Ron admitted. "I'll try to rein him in a bit, but Harry's crazy about Christmas. Especially since you started spoiling him."

"I'm not the only one who does it!"

"Yes, I know, we're all spoiling him. Anyway, I'll try to keep him from going overboard. But we are having lots of finger food, because it fascinates him."

"Fine. Now go away."

"As my lord wish."

"How come that sounds sarcastic coming out of your mouth?" Voldemort shouted after him.

It didn't get easier, or less annoying but Voldemort could see it was making Harry happy. Then again, many things made him happy. Like not having to die, or fight, or pretend he was someone else than himself.

Dumbledore had made a mistake leaving the brat with those Muggles. Growing up with their so-called care, it meant Harry didn't care what Dumbledore said, and only listened to himself. That meant allying himself with Voldemort, because to him that was perfectly sensible. Of course, when Voldemort found out that Harry was a Horcrux, he started to realize Dumbledore could be aware of it too.

When Dumbledore began to tell Harry at age sixteen that he alone could kill Voldemort, yet didn't give him any lessons on how to do it, Voldemort was convinced. Dumbledore knew about the Horcruxes, and that Harry was one. He was ready to sacrifice the boy. Let the boy die for the greater good. Well, Harry wasn't falling for it, and neither did Voldemort. During the years with them working together in secret, he had also grown fond of the brat and had no intention of letting him or the Horcrux within him die or even come to harm in any way.

They'd taken aid from Severus Snape, once they established Harry was under Voldemort's protection and no, they didn't have to interact unless strictly possible. Harry still managed to charm his way into Snape's good graces, and by the time sixth year rolled around, Severus was quite friendly with the teen. He'd even protected Harry from Lupin's attack when it all was revealed not long after Harry had finished school. One would think Lupin wouldn't do such a thing, Harry being James's son and all that, but apparently Lupin had thought him possessed and beyond saving just because Harry wasn't willing to listen to Albus Dumbledore. Severus had killed him quite quickly after that, with Harry not particularly sad about it.

By that time, Sirius had already turned to their side. He had lost everything going to Azkaban, and wasn't about to lose Harry just because Harry had turned to Voldemort who actually ensured the brat remained safe. He stopped himself from mourning Lupin when he found out what Lupin had tried to do to Harry.

Voldemort realized something there. The twins had nagged on him, Ron had sort of nagged on him, so… where the hell was the annoying godfather?

"Where is he?" Voldemort demanded to know as Harry was decorating their third tree in the manor. "And remember the limit is five, I can't stand more lights than that."

"Where is who?"

"Your godfather. What awful plans does he have this year?"

"Oh, Sirius? He's taking it easy with Severus."

"Am I supposed to believe that?"

"You don't believe he and Severus can be together?"

"Not that part, brat, I've seen them snog far too many times to even consider being shocked. I meant the taking it easy part."

"Oh, that part," Harry said. "Well, I told him to leave you alone, that I already convinced you about the ball."

"As if he'd pass up a chance trying to prank anyone."

"He hasn't done that in a while."

"What do you call that atrocious Muggle Halloween display that showed up in my office then?!"


Two days later, just days before the ball, his office was decorated in gold and red, and Sirius didn't even try to explain; he just cackled and ran away. Severus did not aid him, as he had somehow been dragged into deciding drinks alongside Harry. He took it more seriously than Voldemort could have imagined, then shook his head and began to run after Sirius.

"Don't hang him in the dungeons, Voldemort!" Harry called after the Dark Lord. "I need him later!"

"I'll kill him!"

"That's a bit much, ain't it?"

Sirius didn't get killed, the open manor was prepared and decorated and the house-elves worked overtime to get all the food ready. Voldemort sulked in his now cleaned office, and hexed anyone but Harry who dared to enter. Lucius had enough sense to knock and announce himself before even daring to open the door, only enough to peek inside and relay his message before leaving the Dark Lord alone.

Then came the day for the ball, and Harry said:

"Voldemort, I'm an adult."

"Yes, and you have horrible dressing sense. Stay still."

"Yes, mother."

Voldemort glared at him. Harry glared back.

"Not a child," Harry growled.

"I know. You're a grown man with a terrible fashion sense. You should be glad I decide what you wear."

"There's nothing wrong with jeans and normal shirts!"

"Muggle, is what it is."

He tugged at the vest before reaching for the robe, fastening the buttons. Harry's hair, thankfully long enough to be tamed, had already been put up in a ponytail and the man looked presentable.

"I've named you my heir for obvious reasons, so what you wear reflects on me as well. I will not have you on a ball in Muggle jeans," Voldemort said.

"I only wear that at home, I have robes. Robes I've picked out myself. Black robes."

"They aren't good enough. With horrible, I mean you don't get the right quality and detail. You still try to blend in."

"I do not."

"Yes, you do."

Ron opened the door and said:

"How many hours are you gonna dress him for? What's taking so long?"

"He struggled," Voldemort said.

"Tried the window, mate?"

"No, the secret panel behind the bookshelf," Harry said. "He caught me in the last minute."

"I will board this room up, and lock every bloody window in the entire manor next time I'm dressing you."

"I'm thirty-three years old!"

"Doesn't mean you can dress yourself!" Voldemort tugged one final time. "There. Now don't go and ruin my work."

"Or else?" Harry said.

Voldemort growled at him and swept out of the room. Harry laughed and followed him, Ron bringing up the rear.

They Apparated to the open manor, where the first guests had begun to arrive. Fred and George were near the drinks and Voldemort said:

"If they dare to put anything in that…"

"They won't," Harry said. "I told them Severus would cut off their hands and use them in potions if they dared. He spent a lot of time deciding those drinks."

Severus was there as well, with Sirius close by. The man hid from Voldemort's view, by hiding behind Severus and the potions master rolled his eyes at that. Harry was already off, but at least he was somewhat graceful, striking up odd conversations with people he happened to pass.

"You trained him well," Severus remarked to Voldemort.

"To be honest, I think Lucius and Narcissa did most of the work," Voldemort said as he watched Draco join Harry and Ron by one of the tables.

The blond worked with them at the Ministry but they had been friends since Hogwarts and he came over frequently to do things with Harry. Unlike the twins and Ron, who usually just barged into Voldemort's office, Draco knocked and waited like one was supposed to.

As more people began coming inside, he saw it was a mixture of Harry's friends and colleagues, acquaintances as well as several people Voldemort knew. It wasn't a political party, but he was sure there would be things discussed. As long as Harry wasn't around to hear it; outside of the Ministry, Harry hated to talk about politics. Having been shuffled around like a pawn due to politics had left him with a deep hatred of anything to do with it, and so Lucius kept him outside of it most of the time. To Harry, Voldemort and Lucius were more than welcome to deal with any politics as long as he didn't have to do anything near that.

Voldemort mingled, shared conversation, and was actually having a rather good time when the outer doors exploded. He closed his eyes, sighed and said:

"Why? Why does this happen every damn time?"

That's it; no more of Harry's ideas. He drew his wand and locked it onto the intruders. Well, he could see Hermione Granger quite clearly; she had escaped capture for a long time alongside other Hogwarts students and surviving Order members, such as Mad-Eye Moody now at her side, and Shacklebolt and Tonks.

That Longbottom boy had grown up, but his kindness had all but evaporated. Pity; Harry had liked him during their school years due to that kindness.

He spotted a couple of Weasleys in there too.

"Ron, Severus," he said.


Harry was pulled back behind them, and Molly broke through.

"Ron, come here this instant!" she shouted.

"Step back," Ron said, aiming his wand at her.

"Ron, have you lost your mind?!" Arthur came to Molly's side, one eye missing. Harry had been the one to remove it in the first place. "Come here, right now!"

Some of the guests had Apparated away or fled upstairs, making Voldemort sigh even louder.

"This," he told Harry, "is why I hate your ideas. How did they know?"

"It was public information," Lucius told Voldemort.

"Great. Wonderful! No more parties, Harry."

"It's hardly my fault!" Harry shouted.

"Well, they're here, and I'm annoyed now." Voldemort looked at them. "Who's the leader of this pitiful group, then? Mad-Eye Moody? Arthur Weasley, Merlin forbid? Perhaps Shacklebolt, so eager to be Dumbledore's lap dog you'd even try to kill children to please him."

"The Weasley boys chose to take a different path," Shacklebolt said. "I merely tried to stop them."

"By killing them in a rather gruesome manner. If it hadn't been insulting to everything I am, I would've compared you to me," Voldemort told him. "You have a moment to get lost and have us enjoy the rest of our evening."

"We'll take back power tonight!" Hermione yelled.

"Did she just say that?" Voldemort asked Severus.

"I believe she did. The girl always seemed… off to me. Not to mention annoying."

"Shut up, Hermione!" Harry shouted at her. "I was having a great time, and now you've come and ruined everything! Voldemort isn't gonna let me walk anywhere on my own for months now, thanks to you!"

"Harry, I don't know what happened to you when you finished school, but you must open your eyes to the truth!"

"What truth?"

"The dark, their evil! The Ministry-"

"Is better organized than it's been in a long time," Harry interjected and pushed past Ron and Severus. "How many magical children are abused by their Muggle relatives nowadays? None? Well, that's because of Voldemort! He makes sure they stay safe. Dumbledore didn't even try that with me. Every year, I'd return starved and bruised and you all just brushed that off. Fuck you!"

Ron pulled him back just in time; Severus raised a shield to block the cutting curse that came from Tonks. Voldemort looked at her.

"You did not just do that," he growled. "Formation!"

Immediately the Death Eaters in the manor formed a wall, wands out. Those who had named themselves Light, as if magic was divided into light and dark, moved into position.

"I didn't even get to taste half of the stuff the twins prepared," Harry complained.

"Harry, I will personally put up a finger food table for you later if you just take out your wand and avoid getting yourself killed during the next hour," Voldemort told him. "Ron, Severus, keep an eye on him."

"I can fight!"

"Yes, it's just that you don't watch your back often enough."

"The Light never fades!" Hermione told them.

"Dear Merlin, someone shut her up," Draco groaned. "Does she think we're really listening?"

"Draco, focus," Lucius told him. "Narcissa dear, do be careful."

"Likewise," Narcissa said, wand aimed at the Light. "My lord?"

"Well, let's get this over with then."

Voldemort guessed this was just to be expected after so many calm Christmases that just one time, it had to fuck up royally. At least it wasn't quite Christmas yet, and gift-giving was done at his manor, usually in the privacy of his living room. Harry would never force him to show anything he didn't want to show to people he just knew by name and surface conversations.

The chandelier came crashing down after a wayward spell caused damage to the ceiling. Voldemort cursed and pulled Sirius out of the way. The man whipped around and punched Arthur in the face, who had been trying to sneak up on Voldemort. The twins appeared and struck their father from behind before finding their mother in the midst.

"What shall we do?" Fred, or George, Voldemort never quite knew, asked.

"Well, what do you suggest? Hex, curse, boiling water?"

"Set her on fire, or split her open?"

"Maybe blow her up like a balloon! Harry likes it when we do that."

"Will you two stop arguing what method you'll use on your mother, and just make sure she doesn't move again?!" Voldemort shouted at them.

The twins saluted and ran off to find Molly. Sirius kept close to Voldemort, pulling Harry closer as well which meant the group of five was able to stay grounded in the middle of the room and assist in taking people down.

Several tried to reach Harry, either to take back 'their' saviour or kill him. Voldemort didn't care which; he just shot them down, and usually made them stay down. Hermione was the most deranged of them all, apparently convinced Harry and Ron had been brain-washed.

Mad-Eye cast a spell that just about missed Harry but exploded so that the five men were thrown to the floor, leaving them open for attack. Hermione had already grabbed Harry's arm, a Portkey in her hand when her hand was severed with a cutting curse, the Portkey activating but only bringing her hand with her. She screamed at the pain but instead she began to drag Harry away from them, perhaps to Apparate. Draco took a page out of Sirius' book and punched her in the face. She fell unconscious to the floor, and Draco looked at Harry.

"I've wanted to do that since we were in school," he admitted. "Oh, looks like it's done."

"What, already? They didn't let me fight!" Harry said.

"You're the Dark Lord's heir, you aren't supposed to fight anyway," Draco told him.

"But I wanted to fight! I only got to trip Ginny and then split her open! Well, I did take out a few more but still…"

Voldemort meanwhile was looking at his shoes. His robes were fine, his shoes… not so much. When Ginny Weasley was split open her guts had come rushing towards Voldemort. He did not fancy another ruined set of robes because of some damn guts so he avoided the whole mess, allowing it to hit Tonks in the face and have her scream once she realized she had lungs and a heart sliding down the front of her robe.

So far so good. Until he got to his shoes. He had no idea where the blood, nerves and other things came from. Not Ginny, he would've noticed. Then again, when he chanced a look around the room, there were more than Ginny's insides lying on the outside. Several Death Eaters had some kind of mess on them, blood or other things.

"Well…" he muttered. "Could be worse I suppose. Harry, no more ideas for at least two months, alright? No, let's make that three months; we're not doing another Valentine's fiasco."

"It wasn't like that was a real heart I gave you," Harry muttered. "There's nothing wrong with my ideas."

"Yes, there is. They love to interrupt," Voldemort said and pointed at the Light. At their bodies. None of those who were alive were awake and standing at the moment.

"Well, most of them are captured or dead right now, so what's to stop me?"

"No more ideas!"

Harry pouted and Voldemort made the mistake of looking into his eyes. His resolve began to falter. Severus coughed lightly and said:

"He's got you wrapped around his finger, my lord. Shall we take care of this so you can take Harry home? I believe there was to be finger food."

"Right," Voldemort said. "Let's go home, Harry. Ron, and… Draco. Join us."

"For safety, my lord?" Draco wondered.

"No, for his entertainment," Voldemort said. "Merlin knows he'll be upset he didn't get to fight enough."

"I am old enough to defend myself," Harry said as they had Apparated back to Voldemort's and his private home.

"I know this, but I won't allow any harm to come to you. Ron, is there any chance the twins have left some papers here on what food they would have?"

"Might have. Maybe in the kitchen," he said. "I'll go and check."

"I, in the meantime, will clean off these shoes."

"At least it didn't go on your robes," Harry said.

"Shut up, brat."

But Voldemort wasn't really annoyed. He couldn't be angry with Harry, not for long. He was a grown man, true, but in many ways childish and naïve. Harry was a sweet thing, but with sadistic moments and Voldemort wanted to protect all of that. His whining, his ideas, his fighting… it was ridiculous the way Harry's many sides made Voldemort act.

He guessed love made people act ridiculous. Voldemort removed the shoes, wiped them clean from any excess things and then had the house-elves take them away. He redressed into a more comfortable robe and walked barefoot to the living room. Harry and Draco were already there, Harry in shirt and pants and barefoot like Voldemort. He was twirling around on Voldemort's Horcrux, the Slytherin locket, while Draco was reading some sort of report aloud.

"Working at Christmas, the two of you?" Voldemort wondered.

"Father just wanted us to go over it," Draco said. "It's not that important."

"It's politics," Harry said. "Boring politics…"

"But you'll do it, because that's your job," Voldemort said as he sat down next to Harry.

"Of course I'll do it. I just say it's boring." Harry looked down at the locket. "Hey, up until they attacked the ball was alright, wasn't it?"

"It was fine," Voldemort said. "One of your better ideas, I suppose. But next time… keep it here, and on a smaller scale."

"Yeah… might be a good idea."

"You two hardly ever use the ballroom anyway," Draco said. "The house-elves would be delighted to clean it up."

"You mean we can continue it now?" Harry wondered. "Can we, Voldemort? Just a few friends. And finger food."

"I did promise you that," Voldemort said.

It wasn't technically Harry's idea, it was hinted first by Draco. Voldemort considered this. He already had been covered in someone's guts, well, at least his feet had been so… what was the harm?

"Fine," he said. "I'll make sure they know. But… just a few friends. And no more Christmas trees, and definitely no mistletoes."

"I'm not stupid enough to try that again," Harry said. "Great, I'll go and have it started. Draco, you too!"

"Why me?" Draco complained but he got up anyway.

"Because if you come, you can decide the music. If you don't, I get to pick it."

"No! You'll take some horrid Muggle music just to annoy me!"

"Then you better hurry up," Harry said and took off running. Draco followed suit.

Voldemort sighed. Then he got up to find out about the food.

Several hours later, Voldemort watched Harry laugh with his godfather, Severus quietly chuckling next to them. Lucius and Narcissa were slowly dancing, as did a few other couples. Draco and Ron had their heads close together while Fred and George was trying out drinks.

Voldemort himself was leaning against the wall, a glass of wine in his hand. The room wasn't crowded, it was just the right amount of people. It was the ball at the open manor, only in a smaller scale.

Harry came up to him and hugged him around the waist.

"I am stuffed," he said. "I am so stuffed you'll have to roll me up the stairs. Please tell me I don't have work tomorrow."

"You don't," Voldemort assured. "Just the two of us in the morning, then later I'll be in meetings. I'm sure your godfather or Ron will come and have you entertained."

"You're enjoying yourself." Harry grinned. "So it wasn't a horrible idea, after all."

"No… I suppose it wasn't."

The laughter in the room was warm and pleasant. Voldemort was surrounded by people he trusted, people he even enjoyed spending his free time with. The food was good, the drinks even better… he had Harry Potter at his side, Harry Potter who freed him and helped him and made him… perhaps not better but different. They were both still evil, in their own way. Voldemort placed an arm around Harry's shoulder and said:

"A most wonderful idea, indeed…"

"So, about Valentine's day-"

"Hush," Voldemort told him, and Harry only laughed.

"Merry Christmas, Voldemort," he said.

"Merry Christmas, Harry."


I couldn't figure out a better ending! Gah, I rushed the story, or rather, I didn't start with it soon enough. I've had a panicky time, and not enough time to write fanfiction. I hope it was good though, I enjoyed writing it!

Until another time,