Holiday to treasure

Summary: Harry reflects on Christmas, and what the holiday has done to him over the years. YAOI.

Pairing/s: VoldemortHarry

Warnings: Yaoi, mention of torture in past time, torture, Light-bashing (especially Dumbledore, the Weasleys with the exception of the twins and Bill, and Hermione) and rather Evil!Harry (he enjoys hearing people scream in pain while doing naughty things with his little Dark Lord).

Disclaimers: I don't own Harry Potter.

Christmas one-shot! Enjoy everyone!



Harry had never really bothered with Christmas before, feeling the holiday was not special, nothing out of the ordinary. It was just a day like any other. Maybe it was because he never received any gifts before he came to Hogwarts. And even at Hogwarts, Christmas did not feel special. Ron was always complaining he never got what he wanted, but Harry never knew what he wanted. Ron had never cared what he wanted, and said that Harry could get whatever he wanted from whoever he wanted. It was said with jealousy and hatred.

Maybe it was that comment that made Harry start hating Ron one Christmas-morning. It must have been in their third year. Harry wanted a friend, not someone who just threw out comments like that. He had felt hurt and turned to Hermione… only to find out she was the same.

Once that Christmas was over, he did not have any friends. And felt like the holiday was mocking him for not celebrating it.

As he came to his fourth year, the fiasco with the Tri-wizard Tournament put him back into the light which he hated. Ron and Hermione gloated about being his friends, all until he one day had screamed at them in the Great Hall, right in front of everyone and the foreign students. He had called Ron poor and stupid idiot and Hermione Mudblood. Since that day, he never ate in the Great Hall, and since that day the Weasley twins became his friends.

Back to Christmas. In his fourth year it was slightly better because he had Fred and George, but he still had no idea what he wanted. They had not said he could get whatever he wanted from whoever he wanted, but suggested he would just let it rest. One day it would come to him and when that day came they would do anything in their power to grant his wish.

At the end of the fourth year Voldemort returned. Dumbledore tried to drill into Harry's head that he was the only one who would succeed to bring Voldemort down. For some reason, Harry did not believe him.

Fifth year was a nightmare. Dumbledore was on him and tried to make him friends with Ron and Hermione again. Harry stopped going to the headmaster's office after a while, and ignored the man's summons. He did not want to see Dumbledore, and the old man had to get it into his thick brain.

Christmas was celebrated in the kitchens at Hogwarts with Fred and George. It was their last year at Hogwarts but promised they would try to remain in the castle until he finished school. Dobby had that Christmas offered his help to Harry and his Wheezies.

When fifth year ended, Harry had lost all faith he had in the Light, and instead found what he wanted. He had called the twins to him and told them.

He wished to be with the right side.

Said and done, on his sixteenth birthday the Weasley twins together with their brother Bill staged his kidnap and then four then went to the dark, with Dobby in tow. He would never abandon his Harry Potter and Harry Potter's Wheezies.

"What are you thinking of, love?"

Harry moved his head and looked at the person standing by the door. The red eyes glowed softly and Voldemort smiled at him. He stepped into the light of the room, his great black robes swishing around his feet and his blackish hair tousled. His pale skin shone up, a sharp contrast to his clothing and made the red eyes seem more intense.

"The past," Harry replied softly.

"Aah, the past," Voldemort said as he sat down on the couch. Harry watched him. "How many years back are you now?"

"Four," Harry whispered.

"So you're sixteen?"

"The day I turned sixteen," the young man said. "The day I got my wish."

"The day you became one of us," the Dark Lord said and stroke Harry's cheek lovingly. "A day of happiness for me; I saw a young man free himself from Dumbledore's clutches, and embrace his true self. What made you think of all this?"

"Just reflecting," Harry said and looked at the fire.

"Reflecting on what, my raven?"

The young man smiled at the nickname; Voldemort had called him that ever since they met as allies, not enemies.

"Christmas," he said.

"On Christmas?" Voldemort mused. "I have not heard much about your past experiences of Christmas except for what little Fred and George were keen to tell. Which wasn't very much, I can tell you that."

"They don't want to get on my bad side," the man said.

Voldemort took a moment to watch his lover. His previous unruly hair was now a flowing, black mane that ended near his hips. His eyes had turned brighter until it reached the colour of Avada Kedavra. The only time they darkened was when Harry was angry, truly angry. And thanks to Voldemort, he had had no reason to be angry. His skin was almost as pale as the Dark Lord's, a paleness that fit him perfectly. For today Harry was dressed in dark emerald robes. His lightning scar had all but faded away, leaving behind smooth skin.

Now Voldemort caressed that spot and turned Harry's head to lay a soft kiss on it.

"Do you remember, the Christmas when you were seventeen?" Voldemort asked.

"When everything finished," Harry breathed out.

"Their screams echoed through the night," Voldemort continued and nuzzled his lover's neck.

"The sweetest music I had ever heard," the young man said drowsily, letting his vibrant green eyes slide shut as he remembered.

When Christmas came up when he was seventeen, he and Voldemort were already in love, madly in love and had been since Christmas the year before. All the annoying Death Eaters had been dealt with, Death Eaters like Bellatrix, Narcissa Malfoy and Draco Malfoy. Lucius had not been terrible upset when his wife and son died, and had instead starting serving the lord more and found in Harry someone to share his dislike for Fudge with.

Severus had been on neither side for a long time before finally deciding to go with Harry and the dark. While they were not friends, the two could speak to each other without going on each other's nerves.

The Weasley twins had quickly teamed up with the Lestrange brothers who seemed to share more than one interest with the twins. Rodolphus had been relieved when his wife was killed, and had thanked Harry more than once for her death.

The Order of the Phoenix had attacked them on Christmas Eve when Harry was seventeen, led by Dumbledore. Ron and Hermione were with the Order, along with the rest of the Weasleys and several others, some of them Aurors and some of them loyal friends to the leader of the Light. They all had pretended they attacked as a revenge for Harry's death. Harry himself had been there, with only a hood to hide his face from the others. As they spoke their purpose for the attack, he could not be stopped.

In the middle of what would become a bloodbath, Harry had laughed. He had laughed right into their faces, and once he was done he had tore off his hood, showing himself. The Light had stared. Then they had shouted to Harry to run, to kill Voldemort, to fulfil the Prophecy.

Harry found it funny, that Dumbledore had convinced the whole Wizarding World that there even existed a Prophecy. Voldemort and he had searched the whole English Ministry for a copy of the supposed Prophecy but there was no record of one… at all. Then they had, with Severus' help, kidnapped Trelawney and questioned her. Under Veritaserum she had confessed Dumbledore had staged it all.

Dumbledore had become white of fury when Harry shouted that out, that the Prophecy was false, and his eyes showed his madness. Harry could still remember the man's words:

"Have you become the dark side's whore?!"

The young man had smiled sweetly, and replied:

"I would rather be their whore than your puppet."

Voldemort had attacked Dumbledore, as he did not allow anyone to insult his lover. The old man's screams… so wonderful. Then the aftermath, once they had won… Harry remembered hearing the Light's screams as Voldemort made love to him in their bedroom.

"You're day-dreaming love."

Voldemort's voice brought him back to the present and Harry smiled up at him. Voldemort smiled back and said:

"What would you want this year?"

"I want to hear someone die," the young man replied and pressed himself closer, "while you are inside of me. Someone I knew. Hear their screams of pain, screams of mercy while you take care of me."

"You are so easy to please," Voldemort groaned. "Of course you will have that, but you must wait until tonight. What else do you wish? Remember you can wish for anything, as I will love you too much to deny you the pleasure."

Harry slid over to straddle the man's lap, and pressed their lips together. He had only had one big wish in his life, and that wish he had made when he was fifteen. No other wish mattered more than that one. The things he wished for now did not matter as long as he had Voldemort.

"I wish," Harry whispered against the man's lips, "for nothing else than to be allowed to spend my life at your side, my lord, my dark love. I wish to every morning wake up within your strong arms, and I wish that my love for you will last for eternity."

The Dark Lord gripped his lover's frail hips tightly and pressed him closer.

"You, Harry, will be the end of me with that wish of yours," Voldemort murmured. "My answer is yes, always yes. I will not allow you to wake up with someone else, I cannot allow it. My heart would break, and my happiness shattered. You, my Christmas-miracle, you will always be my love, my only love. You are the only one I can be with."

Harry smiled. Christmas had done nothing but mock him in the past, but now as he sat and watched his miracle, his own Christmas-miracle, he figured himself and the holiday was even.


Hope you enjoyed that! Merry Christmas!

Until another time,