Do Not Walk Gently Into The Night
Summary: Harry is sick of life, and writes his final letter… to Voldemort. However, Voldemort will not let the teen die. So what happens afterwards? Slash-fic.
Warnings: Slash, mild child abuse, mental abuse, self-inflicting injuries, Dumbledore-bashing, Gryffindor-bashing, Light-bashing practically. 'Good' Dark Lord, 'nice' Death Eaters, false Prophecy (it seems like all my stories has false Prophecies nowadays) and so on.
Disclaimers: I don't own Harry Potter.
Other notes: This happens the summer after Sirius has died, which means in the beginning Harry is fifteen years old.
Voldemort blinked. The snowy white owl just continued to stare at him, leg outstretched for him with a letter. The man blinked some more. The owl hooted warningly, shaking its leg a bit. If looks could kill, the Dark Lord Voldemort would have been killed by an owl and quite quickly so.
The man regained himself and took the offered letter. Only then did the owl sit down comfortably and watched him without the killing glare in its big eyes. Voldemort thought for a little while, trying to shake off the murderous look the owl had given him just moments ago before taking out his wand and directing it towards Hedwig. She merely looked at him as if he was stupid and he felt his wand waver a bit. An owl… just stood up against him. And himself?
After some thought… he gave in.
"Okay," he said more to himself than to the owl, slightly amazed at her boldness, and tucked the wand away. "Is this urgent?"
He shook the letter to make her get what he was talking about. To his surprise, the owl nodded. He looked at her strangely before muttering 'bloody Potter's owl' and tore the letter open.
Dear… Voldemort? I don't think you would appreciate being called Tom or Mr Riddle by now, so let's go for Voldemort.
It feels very strange that the only one I trusted enough to tell all of my secrets would be to you. I mean, you're supposed to be my greatest enemy. Ironic. I've never really written a letter, except for the polite ones I had to with my 'friends' so forgive me if you find it hard to follow my thinking, or in this case, writing. I'm a lost cause I guess.
'Too true,' Voldemort thought.
The reason why I write is that I'm sick of this. Aren't you? Fighting meaningless fights, killing someone who you don't know, and battling against someone you don't really want to battle against? I didn't ask to fight against you; I didn't ask to be the Light's hero. I never asked for anything beside death.
Yes, death. But before I dive deeper in that, I would like you to know my life. I want someone to know my life, my true life and not the lies Dumbledore has told everyone.
I grew up with the Dursleys, my Muggle relatives. That much you, and everyone else, know. But you don't know what happened during those years.
Voldemort had to admit he was more than confused. Why was Harry Potter of all people writing to him to talk about his life? Nonetheless, the man continued, grudgingly curios.
My uncle, Vernon, was a man of different moods. You usually say someone is a man of many words (or few words if you like), but my uncle has only moods, no words. At least according to me. Anyway, back to the topic. The moods he showed me though were only anger and disgust. He saw me as something disgusting and not worth living. I was an illness, a disease, I was a freak and I deserved to die. He never touched me if he could help me. No one of them, Vernon and Petunia, did so I was rather scared when I went to Hogwarts. I hated being touched, and I still do. Only a few times did my uncle touch me, and that was the time he threw me into my 'room', the cupboard or hit me across the face. Never hard of course, it could never be hard enough to bruise. For each touch I got more scared.
Dudley, my cousin, used me as a punching-bag for a while. Then I got too fast for the fat whale called human, and he had to take someone else to hit. 'Fat whale called human?' Voldemort looked up for a moment, imagined it and then shuddered. No, he better just continue reading if he wants to keep himself sane.
My aunt, my mother's sister… she's never touched me actually. She just stares at me like I'm not there or that I'm nothing more but a dirty spot on her perfect floor. To her, I was nothing more but a burden. I know if she could, she would throw me out. Dumbledore made her promise, but I know if I had lived to be seventeen she would have thrown me out one minute, or rather one second, after midnight. She is that way, that's all. She hated my mother, she hated my father, she hated anything that had to do with magic and suddenly I'm dumped by her front door. Of course she's going to be more then just angry. But that didn't mean she or her family had the right to do what they did to me.
My life wasn't an easy road, but I didn't have as hard time as you. Yes, I know about your past. Not through Dumbledore's eyes but your own. I saw your past in your dreams. Don't ask me how your dreams ended up in my head; that's life. You never know what to expect.
Voldemort chuckled lightly at that. The brat was right on that point.
During my life, I have only trusted two people who are adults. Or well, I guess you can say three… That's Sirius Black, my godfather, and Remus Lupin, my honorary godfather. The third one… I shouldn't mention him here for the slim chance that anyone other than you would get this letter. I loved them as fathers, all three I might add and theirs touch were the only I allowed. Which meant I never allowed touch before my third year, when Remus came and Sirius broke free. I can say the third one I met during the summer between my third and fourth year. I wished I could say his name so you wouldn't hurt him, but I know he will approach you. He's smart enough to realize that.
Sirius is dead as you know and Remus is falling. He will join the werewolves soon, I know that. Everyone seems to know that, and has tried to find him after Sirius' death. He was smart enough to hide. Why is he going to join the werewolves you may wonder? Because he knows what a monster Dumbledore is. He knows what the Light really is. And now he's finally doing what his heart has begged him to do; betray the Light. I hope if you ever see him you won't treat him badly; he's had enough of that from the Light side. He's really good at Dark Arts, and loves History; he could help teaching orphans on your side. Actually, I strongly recommend that; he is not much for fighting people. As for the third… he's too far away. He wants to be with me, take me with him, but he can't afford running from the Order. He doesn't have enough contacts around the world for it.
Back on track now (I like spacing out a lot but now it's not the time); I guess my heart cried that out as well; to betray them all. I was never with the Light from the beginning. I wasn't with anyone. I just wanted to be left alone.
But the only way I can be left alone is through death. And now we are back on that subject. First time I wished I would die was when I was six years old I think. I didn't really get the whole idea of being dead back then I admit, but I had heard my aunt and uncle talk about someone who had died. I checked it up in a book later, and wished I would die too. When you are dead, no one bothers you. No one tells you what to be, or what to do. You don't have to be anything. It sounded great; it still sounds great.
That has been my only wish through the years. Death, quick and painless. Like when old people die, just fading away in their sleep. I want to do that, only problem is I want it now. If this, my personal hell, is all life has to offer, why keep on living?
That's why I'm writing to you. Once Hedwig has reached you, I will probably already be half-dead or better, dead. Hope you don't mind me telling her to stay with you; she's a good owl and can find anyone she wants. Proof; she found you, didn't she? Don't worry about whatever wards you have put out; she has a tendency to ignore all wards and rules applied to the Wizarding World (a bit like me actually).
Voldemort dropped the letter and looked at the owl who hooted and stared at him with somewhat pleading eyes. He rose up and ran out the door.
As he came to the Apparation spot, he realized he had no idea where to look. Harry had given no indication where he lived. The man took a chance and stretched his magic out, knowing if the teen was not protected by any wards he would be able to feel him wherever he was in the country. But it took time. Precious time. He closed his eyes, pushed all thoughts away. He needed to focus.
After ten long minutes, it felt like ten years, too long, far too long, Voldemort snapped his eyes open.
The wards were nonexistent when the Dark Lord came and he sensed no Order members. He blasted the door open and ran inside. A fat man came into his vision, the face red then growing purple in anger at seeing him. A man of many moods; Harry's words came back to the Dark Lord. Vernon's mouth opened but Voldemort threw the Killing curse without thinking and heard two screams from the living room as the large body fell to the ground. He set that room on fire, again without thinking, and ran upstairs, towards the weak magical signal. He came to the bathroom on the second floor and threw it open.
Harry was lying on the floor. Blood was slowly oozing out from his wrist, cut open with more force than necessary. Voldemort hurriedly kneeled down and began healing, not knowing why he did this. His enemy was by his feet, almost dead, and he was healing him?
No. His enemy had never really been Harry. It had always been Dumbledore. This child had never been a real enemy, just a fighter he unfortunately had to kill.
He lifted Harry effortlessly and walked calmly to what appeared to be the teen's bedroom. The flames started to take the house but Voldemort was not worried. He looked around the room and summoned everything that held magic. He waved his wand and the things began packing themselves into a trunk and he held the thin body against his own. Harry was blinking drowsily, the blood-loss making him sluggish. His head rested against Voldemort's shoulder and the Dark Lord found himself liking the feeling of keeping someone close. Or rather, keeping this frail teen close.
The trunk was now packed and he heard popping sounds outside. Aurors perhaps? Or Dumbledore's foolish Orders? No matter. They were too late.
He grabbed the trunk and Apparated away.
Harry woke up with the feeling of warmth and security. He had never felt it before so he kept his eyes closed, hoping this dream would never end. A strong hand was caressing his hair, and he liked it very much. Hermione had tried touching his hair once but he had flinched and backed away, and she had been upset with that. She and Ron would nowadays only glance at him at school and then go back to be the perfect Gryffindor couple. Harry had never really found himself fitting in, but being left alone by those two had been a bit hard. He had felt more alone than ever.
Now he felt good though, and the hand caressing his hair was warm against his scalp. He had never felt such kindness before and his fear of touch flew out of the window. Once the hand and warmth moved away, he could not stop the whine coming out.
A chuckle beside him made Harry peer his eyes open. He looked right at Voldemort. The man returned to his earlier task of stroking the raven hair and Harry slid his eyes close again. He was too tired to even feel surprised that his vision was corrected, no doubt by someone of Voldemort's skilled healers. He was too tired to even care that he was at the mercy at his so called enemy. This was bliss, and Harry would not give it up. If Voldemort wanted to kill him, fine. Just as long as the man did this, Harry would not complain over anything.
"So easy to please," the man murmured, breaking the teen free from his thoughts. "Good morning, Harry."
"Good morning," the teen replied, opening his eyes. It was impolite to not look at someone when they spoke to you. "Where am I?"
"At my manor," Voldemort replied. "You've been sleeping for a good two days now, but you're fine. Though your wrist will have some rather gruesome scars."
Harry lifted his wrist and looked at the bandage.
"Why did you save me?" Harry asked.
"You're asking me?" Voldemort said. "That won't help as I have no idea myself."
The Dark Lord raised himself onto his elbow, therefore stopping the petting and Harry looked up at his face. The man was rather handsome with his tousled, short hair and nearly white skin and lean body. Even his red eyes were okay. Harry moved so he was lying on his side and then slowly laid a hand onto the man's chest. Voldemort's heart was beating steadily underneath his hand, and the teen arranged so he was lying with his ear pressed against the chest. Voldemort looked rather amused but didn't move away. Instead he resumed with the task of petting the teen's hair. Harry snuggled closer, his body now flush against the man's and he fell asleep for the first time he could remember in peace.
Harry was up from the bed within a few days and Voldemort showed him around the manor. There were a few times the teen could not come out and that was when it was Death Eater meetings or whenever Voldemort had some important guests. The Dark Lord did not want anyone to know that Harry Potter was kept in his house.
Harry was fine with that; Voldemort brought him a lot of interesting books instead so he could occupy himself. The teen began relearning a lot about the Wizarding World, and was fascinated by the Magical children's books. Voldemort had laughed at his interest but promptly brought him more. Where from, Harry had no idea. He suspected not from the man's own library as he couldn't imagine Voldemort sitting and read those kind of things.
One day, he was lying on his stomach on the bed and reading a book about little Walter Wymer who had lost his father's wand and now had to go through a series of tasks to get it back. Really, it was a ridiculous story all the way through, but Harry still loved it. The door opened and Voldemort stepped in. This time he was covered in blood. The teen's eyes widened as the man locked the door and lowered himself shakily into a soft armchair.
"What happened?" the raven-haired teen asked as he got up and to the man's side, sitting down onto the arm of the chair.
"Ran into Albus," Voldemort said while peeling away the bloodied material from a wound on his side. He winced slightly as it caught and Harry helped him. He looked up, startled, at the teen. Harry did not notice and the man said quietly, "Thank you."
"What did he do?" Harry asked. He had never really given much thought before but what did really happen in the outer world now when their 'hero' was gone? It had been around three weeks since he had come to live with the Dark Lord and so far he had pretty much forgotten about the rest of the world.
"Oh, the usual plus a little extra," Voldemort said. "He accused me of taking you away and killing your kind and gentle family. I had a laughing episode there, that's why he got a hit on me."
"Laughing episode?" the teen asked, one of his eyebrows rising up in disbelief. "I always thought you were alert."
"I couldn't help it!" the man said and threw his arms up. "The way he said it just made me laugh! 'Kind and gentle family'; hah!"
The emerald-eyed teen shook his head and informed:
Harry laughed softly. Voldemort liked seeing the teen laugh, and weaved his hand into Harry's black hair. The teen looked at him, and leaned into the touch a bit.
"So easy to please," Voldemort murmured, as he often did.
"I never liked being touched, but with you… with you it's fine. It's getting much better, letting people touch me."
The Dark Lord gently pulled on the teen until Harry's head landed on his shoulder. Voldemort took this as a chance to see how Harry looked.
Well, most of his body was hidden underneath the dark blue robe he was currently wearing but his body seemed to have gained some very necessary weight and thanks to nutrition potions he had grown a bit taller. His skin was still as pale as before because he had not been outside during his stay. Voldemort vowed he would soon take the teen out; it was after all a lovely summer just waiting outside.
He rubbed the teen's scalp a bit, hardly noticing his wound slowly closing. He felt something warm him from the inside out but did not pay much attention to that. He only focused on the feeling of Harry's tousled hair tickling the side of his neck, the teen's breathe warm against his collarbone. Neither of them noticed that their hands had slowly inched towards each other and now was intertwined loosely.
When Voldemort turned Harry's head up to kiss him, the teen did not protest. Their mouths moved gently against each other, the teen's eyes sliding close. He reached out and hesitantly touched the Dark Lord's hair, petting it in a calming motion; the man groaned at the gentle touch, his headache making itself known again. But he did not stop the kiss; instead he slowly finished it and they finally separated. Harry opened his eyes again and held Voldemort's hand tighter.
"Is this what you want?" Voldemort whispered.
The emerald-eyed teen leaned closer.
"This is all I want," Harry confirmed, his voice soft and as quiet as the Dark Lord's. Voldemort smiled, and reached for him again.
Harry peered outside the door and looked down the corridor. He heard Death Eaters downstairs and looked back at Voldemort.
"They are still there," Harry whined.
The man chuckled at his lover's whining. It had been one week since they had first kissed each other, and Harry had still not been outside the manor. Today was a lovely weather and the man was determined to take his lover out.
"We will then put a mere glamour on you, love," Voldemort said, stepping up to the teen. "May I?"
He held the wand against Harry's head and the teen nodded. The Dark Lord muttered a few words, looked over his work and then did some more. He stepped back and nodded. Harry blinked; he did not feel very different. Voldemort gestured to a mirror and Harry went to it. He could not help but stare at his reflection.
His hair was now blood-red and black, his skin as pale but his scar gone from view and his eyes a much brighter emerald colour. Even though it was small changes, no one would guess he was Harry Potter. He looked over himself and said:
"I like it."
"That was the point," Voldemort replied and tucked the strands of hair back from Harry's face. "Ready to go now?"
"What are you going to call me?"
The Dark Lord looked down at Harry who was still turning his head to look at his new appearance.
"Viridis?" he said as a suggestion.
"What does it mean?" Harry asked curiously.
"It's Latin, and means green," Voldemort said and looked at his lover. "As beautiful green as your eyes."
Harry blushed a bit but said:
"No need to feel embarrassed. I merely speak the truth, my Viridis."
The teen let Voldemort draw him close and relaxed. The Dark Lord kissed his cheek and said:
"Shall we go then?"
Harry, now Viridis, nodded and they went out of the door.
Many of the Death Eaters stared as Voldemort walked down the stairs with a teen with him. While the Dark Lord was dressed in emerald robes, the teen had only black pants and a simple red shirt on. For some reason the teen was barefoot, but Voldemort did not seem to mind. The teen ran beforehand to get to the doors, and the Dark Lord called out:
"Be careful, love, or you will slip." The Death Eaters' mouths dropped; their Lord had a lover?
"I will not!" the teen called back. "My feet will not let me fall."
"I think being inside has done nothing good to you," Voldemort remarked. "Remind me to take you out more often."
"Gladly," the black and red-haired teen said before moving outside with the older man following, chuckling at his lover's eagerness.
Viridis whirled around outside, arms outstretched and a big smile on his face. Voldemort looked at his lover with soft eyes, and knew from now on he was going to take out the teen as often as he could. Now Viridis turned to the Dark Lord and ran to him. With a startled yelp the man followed his lover to the ground and they fell in a mass of Voldemort's heavy robes.
"What are you doing?" Voldemort asked, laughing.
Viridis did not answer; instead he pressed his lips against the man's and Voldemort was quite happy to respond. He wound his arms around the teen and arched his hips against Viridis'. The teen broke the kiss and moaned at the feeling. He thrust his hips down before straddling the man and moving back to kiss him, something the Dark Lord did not mind one bit.
Voldemort sat up and gently kissed Viridis' neck, sucking on the pale skin. Viridis smiled and wound his hands into the black hair of his lover. The rest of the world did not matter for them at the moment; all they could see was each other.
"What should we do, Albus?" McGonagall asked, her eyes full of sincere concern. "What if Potter is still alive?"
"That would be most gruesome," Dumbledore said, making a good face of grave concern. All of them, or almost all of them, fell for it. "If poor Harry is indeed still alive, I am most sorry to say that I do not think he will be sane."
The Order members nodded solemnly, Ginny sniffing. Her hero was gone; the man she was going to marry was gone! Some of them shed tears; the person supposed to save them was gone! McGonagall was almost crying; a child from her house was gone. Dumbledore inwardly growled: the person he was supposed to use for his own power and fame was gone!
No one really noticed one of the people sneaking out.
Bill Weasley closed the door to the kitchen where they had gathered in Grimmauld Place and nearly growled. He really hated that grandfather-worried-fucking look on Albus Dumbledore. It made bile rise in his throat.
He went outside the house, being careful to not alert Mrs Black behind the curtains and Apparated away. Once he landed in a flat in London he pulled out a two-way mirror from his pocket. He activated it and waited. No answer. He nearly wanted to tear his hair; a month! It had been a month already!
"Damn… where the hell are you, little one?"
"By they way, where are my old things?"
Voldemort looked up at Viridis and blinked. He had forgotten that. As seemed Viridis to have done.
"I think I put them in my closet," the Dark Lord said, brow furrowed. "Check there. If not, come back."
Viridis nodded and closed the door. He sprinted back to the room, cheerfully greeting an equal cheerful Bellatrix Lestrange as he almost ran into her. She might be a bit of insane but once the tension between the two broke (Viridis had been introduced to the Death Eaters after they seeing him and Voldemort going outside, and they knew who he really was) Viridis realized she was a really interesting person. Who of course loved to torture people; she would not be Bellatrix otherwise. Well, just as long as she didn't torture the only people left in his old life that he trusted.
He got into the bedroom and opened the closet. He made a small whoop of joy when he found the trunk immediately. He dragged it out and opened it. Books, parchments, potions ingredients were mixed together in the trunk and he began pulling everything out. He found his wand which he hugged tightly to himself before placing it in the empty wand-holster Voldemort had given him. He pulled out more things until he saw something that made his eyes widen.
A golden mirror shone up once every few seconds and he gasped. It was him! Viridis pulled the mirror out hurriedly and activated it.
Bill snapped his head over to the mirror when it made a noise that alerted him the person was picking up, the person was answering. He abandoned everything he worked on and ran to the mirror.
Viridis' eyes filled with tears as he saw the familiar face. A smile stretched across both of their faces and the teen was met with one question:
"Where are you?"
Bill shut the mirror and made a sweep with his wand. Everything began to pack. He ran over to his desk and checked everything before gathering the parchments up. Yes, the information should be enough. And if not, he was sure everyone's favourite potions master would give him more.
The trunk shut, he grabbed the handle and looked around. Nothing was left, everything was bare. A note lay on the desk. He smiled and Disapparated.
You shouldn't have used him, Dumbledore. You shouldn't have angered me.
Prepare for hell.
Voldemort was rather confused when he saw his lover almost fly down the stairs and said:
"Where is the fire, Viridis?"
"You know the third one I told you about in my letter?" Viridis asked and the older man nodded. "Well, he's coming and I have to greet him!"
The teen rushed pass the surprised Dark Lord and threw the doors open. As he sprinted down towards the gate, Voldemort woke up and followed hurriedly.
He saw red at first when a redheaded, a Weasley it can't be any other, man came through the gate. However, his mind stopped planning plans how to kill said redheaded man when Viridis shouted in happiness:
Bill gave up a grin and managed to catch the teen. They hugged tightly as Voldemort slowed down from almost jogging into a calmer walk. He came to them both and said:
"Care to explain, Viridis?"
Bill looked at the teen who said:
"It's my name now. What should I call you?"
"If you call me Billie as you normally do," Bill said and his eyebrow twitched in annoyance, "I will unfortunately I have other choice than to become very, very angry. Understood?"
"Got it, Billie."
Viridis laughed and hid behind Voldemort as Bill slumped his shoulders. He reached into his robe and withdrew… parchments? Voldemort looked confused at the man as Bill gave them to him.
"Information about the Order's Headquarters, the wards surrounding them, how to break them, how to break into Hogwarts and minor information about every Order member I could find some information about, complete with a list of all Order members around the world," Bill explained. "Figured Viridis would be smart enough to skip over to your side so I made a small gift for you… should I call you my lord?"
"… Viridis calls me Voldemort normally and Tom Marvolo when he's mad at me," the Dark Lord said.
"Tom Marvolo Riddle," Viridis reminded as he peeked out from behind Voldemort. "Are you going to attack me, Bill?"
"No, I'm not going to attack you," Bill said with a dramatic sigh. "You have grown onto me far too much."
"Hah, I can also manipulate whoever I want to!" Viridis said to Voldemort.
"Can you now?" the Dark Lord said, amused.
"Or at least Bill," Viridis said. "I didn't want to have anyone else on my side when it comes to them."
"By the way, both of you," the man said and they looked at him at the same time, their eyes holding the same curiosity. "Alright, that was creepy. You know about the Prophecy?"
"Yes," they said simultaneously and then turned to look at each other in confusion.
"Alright, that was even creepier," Bill declared. "The Prophecy told basically it's either Voldemort who will die or Viridis."
"Yes, we get that," they said and now they stared at each other.
"Stop it!" Bill said. "You're acting like Fred and George!"
"Where are they anyway?" Viridis asked.
"At their shop," Bill said and scratched his head. "I told them shortly about you before I left, and they were relieved you were safe."
"Did I miss something?" Voldemort asked.
"Fred and George are teenagers in my own age, not adults and therefore I didn't write about them," Viridis said. "I recall I didn't mention them at all. Well, they are nice. And confusing."
"And scary like hell when they speak at the same time," Bill said with a shudder. "Especially when they grin like each other…"
"Prophecy?" Voldemort supplied as they started walking back.
"Yeah, that's right! Sorry. The Prophecy was overheard by Severus Snape who went back and told you, Voldemort, about it. You ran off to the Potters to kill them all and the rest if history," Bill said, gesturing with his hands. A vein ticked on Voldemort's forehead but he did not say anything. "However, I found out something about the Prophecy earlier this summer, before school ended but after Sirius' death."
"What did you find out? And how is Severus doing?" Voldemort asked.
"He seems fine, sneering like usual and seem to have swallowed a lemon or two before every meeting," Bill said. "Disappearing directly after each meeting to report back to you I can imagine."
"Not directly to me," Voldemort said. "It's too dangerous. He sends his memories of it with Lucius."
"Prophecy?" Voldemort said, a bit impatient.
Viridis giggled as Bill blushed.
"I had a nice chat with Trelawney," Bill continued. "Never really liked the woman. And Severus, accidently of course, happened to slip a vial of Veritaserum to me before my meeting with her."
"And what did lovely little Trelawney had to say?" Voldemort asked, raising one of his eyebrows.
"Oh, with the help of Veritaserum she was quite happy to say that she had faked the whole Prophecy on Dumbledore's orders," Bill said, "which makes Dumbledore a very bad and evil man."
Dumbledore suddenly sneezed and the Order members looked at him.
"Are you quite alright, headmaster?" Molly asked, concerned.
"Just fine," he said cheerfully, inwardly cringing at the embarrassment of it all. Sneezing just like that; what would they think of him! He was the great Albus Dumbledore; no one was allowed to make fun of him! "Molly, has your sons Fred and George contacted us yet?"
"No," she said and wrung her hands. "They haven't answered at all."
"Maybe they are just busy with their shop," Arthur said soothingly. "After all, it's summer and a lot of youngsters wanting to have some fun."
"Of course," she said. "Of course."
"Where's Bill?" Tonks suddenly asked and looked around.
"When are Fred and George coming?"
"Whenever we want them to," Bill said. "I think the Order has discovered me missing and soon will go and search around my flat which will be empty except for a last note to Dumbledore. Would it be safer to bring the twins here?"
"Might be if they are close to you," Voldemort said.
"They are. They don't answer when the Order calls," Bill said.
"Order them here now," Viridis said. "Just in case."
Fred and George turned around once their Floo flared. Bill stepped out and said:
"Pack now. We're leaving and we're not coming back."
The two only stayed for a moment in the same position before running off, one into each direction. Bill looked after the two and then sighed. They had probably been waiting for him to come and tell them it was time to go.
They came back a few minutes later with each a trunk.
"What about your joke-things?"
"We have a bomb that is due to set off in two minutes," Fred said with a grin. "Everything will be destroyed then. It won't hurt any other shops, and we don't really care about the pranks here. We can make more fun ones when we are with Voldemort."
The meeting was rudely interrupted with McGonagall running inside, she having returned to Hogwarts a while ago.
"What is it, Minerva?" Dumbledore asked. He was a bit annoyed; he had sent her back to Hogwarts and now she dared coming back this soon?
"The Weasley joke shop just exploded!" she panted out.
Voldemort looked on with wide eyes as the Weasley twins lifted his Viridis up in the air and swirled him around. The teen laughed helplessly at their antics and the twins were grinning like maniacs. At the same time they seemed happy the teen allowed them to lift him up; something said that Viridis had not allowed it before.
Once Viridis was let down, Voldemort was not late to wrap his arms around the teen, glaring at them warningly. The teen was his. The Weasley twins merely grinned wider while Viridis fought off a blush.
Dumbledore wanted to scream in rage and fury; the twins gone, presumable dead, Bill Weasley gone, leaving behind that damn note!
Should not have used who? Harry? Harry and Bill hardly knew each other, so why would that anger Bill?
Prepare for hell. It anyone else had said, or written, it Dumbledore would not have paid much attention to it. Not even if Voldemort said it; he had said so every since he was 19 years old or so.
But the way the note oozed with anger and hatred… it made the headmaster feel fear.
Molly was sobbing into Arthur's shoulder while Arthur himself was comforting her. Ron, Ginny and Hermione sat numb and did not appear to listen to anything. They believed Fred and George were dead, and Dumbledore had not told anyone about the note he had found. He had burned it of course but the words danced in front of him, mocking him.
He gnarled his teeth and tried to relax. Even without Harry, he was going to win. No matter what.
When Severus finally came to the manor in own person, he was met by the strangest sight. He had only stepped through the door when one Fred Weasley came running screaming apologises over his shoulder, chased by older brother Bill who was waving his wand around dangerously. A teen looking disturbingly alike Potter was laughing helplessly along with George at the sight, and the Dark Lord… was banging his head into the wall?
Severus was fairly convinced the world had turned upside-down on him.
Two hours and some Pensive travels later Severus was left staring at Voldemort. The Dark Lord took a sip of his wine and tried to appear as dignified as possible.
"Soo…" Severus drawled out. He was not really scared of the man, and therefore was not afraid of teasing him a bit. "Viridis is Potter, and he's doing well here?"
"Yes, quite," Voldemort said. "I daresay his mood brightened when he finally had his friends here. What are you thinking of, Severus?"
"How you and a person like… Viridis got together."
"We were alone," Voldemort said and looked at the potions master. "And we didn't like it."
Viridis looked at the potions master for a while, then turned to Voldemort and said:
"He's okay. Can I go to Fred and George now?"
Voldemort laughed a bit and pressed a kiss to the teen's temple before letting him go. Viridis grinned at them both before dashing down the hall to where Fred and George were seated in the library. Severus' mouth dropped, and Voldemort laughed at the potions master instead.
"Alright that was strange," the man admitted to the Dark Lord. "Normally he would have screamed at me or something."
"A lot of things have changed, Severus my friend. A lot of things have changed."
Voldemort watched Viridis as the teen slept, the Dark Lord propped up on his elbow in their bed. The teen was breathing deeply, making Voldemort smile and nuzzle his neck. Viridis squirmed before he sleepily wound his arms around his lover, yawning.
"Voldemort?" he asked.
"Sshh, go back to sleep."
"Why aren't you asleep?" Viridis mumbled, eyes still closed.
"I'm just thinking. I will go to sleep soon, don't worry."
"Mmm… I dreamed about Bella…"
"Oh? What did she do?" Voldemort asked, stroking the teen's naked shoulder absently.
"Tortured Dumbledore with a feather…"
"… Come again?"
"A feather," Viridis yawned out and opened sleepy green eyes to look at the baffled Dark Lord. "Under his feet. He was screaming, and she was laughing…"
"Have I told you your dreams are the scariest things I have ever known?"
"… A few times."
"Go back to sleep, Viridis."
"What are my chances of seeing Dumbledore get tortured by you?"
"Slim to none I suppose. You have already dreamed him getting tortured by everyone except for me."
"Maybe I'm just saving you until last," Viridis said and snuggled closer. Their chests were now flush against each other, and the teen flung a leg over Voldemort's hip. "Cuz' you'll do it for real."
"Go to sleep," Voldemort said, his voice betraying he was smiling.
Dumbledore glared at everything he could glare at and get away with. Everything was ruined! All of his plans that he had so carefully mapped out was destroying themselves right in front of his eyes!
He had planned to have Harry kill the Dark Lord; now Harry was gone, most likely dead and Voldemort lay low.
He had planned to have Bill Weasley seal Voldemort as much as possible, making him easier to defeat; Bill was now missing, having betrayed the Light.
He had plans for the Weasley twins; now they were dead.
He had planned to kill Severus once his duties were over; now it rested a shield around the potions master protecting him from all harm. Dumbledore could not start pointing it out because no one else but him saw it.
He had plans to get Harry and Ginny married so their children could carry on with Harry's powers; since Harry was gone there was no chance of doing that. Harry was just a tool in every way, but an important tool nonetheless. He was going to kill Voldemort, make Dumbledore famous, make the rest of the Weasleys famous (not that Dumbledore really cared about that) and then make Ginny squeeze out a lot of children.
Now all destroyed… just because Harry had gone missing. Useless! So fucking useless!
Viridis sneezed and Voldemort looked at him.
"You alright, love?" he asked and Severus rolled his eyes; the Dark Lord was far more paranoid now when he had a lover.
"Yeah," Viridis said and rubbed his nose. "I'm fine; don't know where that one came from…"
"Maybe someone is talking about you?" Fred suggested. Voldemort looked confused at him so the teen continued, "Muggle saying. If you sneeze then someone is talking about you."
The Dark Lord raised an eyebrow, turned away and muttered:
"Muggles, completely insane… not making any sense whatsoever…"
"Did you say something?" Viridis asked, looking at Voldemort.
"… Not really."
"Then let's continue."
Voldemort once more focused on the papers Bill had given him, and Severus began studying them again as well.
"He's really been fishing up things I never knew," the potions master said, impressed. "This information is very useful."
"Where is Bill anyway?" Voldemort asked.
"With the goblins," George replied from his place in Fred's lap. "He still has a job, and the goblins really appreciate his work."
"Oh, forgot that," the Dark Lord said. "Well, I guess he's coming later."
"The wards surrounding the Headquarters seem complex," Severus said and looked at the notes again. "I can barely make any sense out of this."
"We'll let Bill handle the wards, he knows wards the best," Voldemort said. "I will assign everyone to the person they will most likely manage to defeat based on this information."
Viridis sat down on the arm of the chair, leaning his head on Voldemort's shoulder and wounding an arm around the man's waist, wanting to cuddle but still not interrupting his lover. Voldemort let him, cherishing the connection.
Lucius looked over the plan and then up at Voldemort. Said man was barely paying any attention, choosing to watch his lover sleep against his chest.
"This plan is excellent," the blonde said and Voldemort finally looked at him.
"Is it? I based it on Bill's information."
"He really has good information. Where did he get it?"
"By playing a sneaky snake in the lions' den."
It was night, and no moon shone. The lights on the street glowed eerily, the silence was almost deafening. All houses were dark, their owners asleep.
Grimmauld Place was not bustling with activity, instead most of the Order members that were there were asleep, tired after yet another long day. But there was going to be an even longer night for some of them.
Black-cloaked people moved silently up towards the Order's Headquarters, white masks shining faintly. The Death Eaters were on the move.
Lucius gave a sign to Bellatrix who nodded. She in turn looked at her husband and Rabastan and the two nodded at her. They walked up until they were in front of the house, the location given to them by Viridis who had simply told them the Order of Flaming Chickens (his nickname for the Order) mostly lived in his godfather's house, therefore walking around the Fidelius charm. Bellatrix had grinned and supplied them that it was Grimmauld Place, and then the planning was on.
The three lifted their wands and waited for everyone to be in position. Voldemort and Viridis stood furthest away, both content with watching. Or rather, Voldemort would like to fight but Viridis had kindly said to him the Death Eaters could handle it and that he was going to suffer if he left the teen alone. Thus, the Dark Lord stayed with his lover, once again freaked out with Viridis' dangerous smile. The teen was something Voldemort rather not fought as he would surely loose in the bitter end.
Everyone was in position, and the three Lestranges looked over at Bill. His eyes were closed, jaws clenched and he was carefully working away the last of the wards surrounding the place. He had worked so carefully and masterfully that no one had noticed most of the wards had disappeared the previous day.
After a few tense minutes they all felt the last ward give way to Bill's stronger will, and the man opened his eyes. It was done; Grimmauld Place was defenceless.
The three waved their wands, precise movements and shouted:
Their spells hit the house and the second floor burst into flames. Screams was heard, and the Death Eaters waited for the wizards and witches to come out.
Moody was first, fully dressed. He probably hadn't been sleeping but neither had he noticed them. His real eye stared at them all while his magical one spun around without pause.
Moody belonged to Severus and Lucius and the two pointed their wands against him and shouted out:
Being an ex-Auror, Moody ducked and shot off a series of spell on his own. The three began their duel, Severus and Lucius firing off spells from two different directions to make it harder for Moody to defend himself.
Within minutes a small battle was taking place in the small neighbourhood, other houses starting to burn as well and Muggles screamed as they went up in flames.
Viridis pressed himself against Voldemort, yawning lightly.
"Tired, little one?" the man asked the teen who nodded. "Don't worry; we'll be finished in a few minutes."
"I want hot chocolate later," Viridis said and Voldemort rolled his eyes.
"You always want that before bed."
"It's good," the teen protested.
"And you get high due to all the sugar you put in it and keep me up for hours."
"It's not like you complain," Viridis whispered hotly in his lover's ear. "We have so much fun during those hours."
Voldemort shuddered at the memories.
"Don't tempt me to take right where we stand," the Dark Lord warned. "The only one to be embarrassed will be you, remember that."
Viridis went bright red in his face and Voldemort laughed softly, placing a kiss on the pouting lips his lover presented.
"We'll see how the night ends," the man promised.
"Yes, I will give you that."
A yell of success made them both look up. Moody fell down, killed by a well-placed Avada Kedavra on Lucius' side. Severus grinned at his blonde friend who made the victory-sign, or the peace-sign depending on the situation, taught to him by the Weasley twins. Voldemort groaned and Viridis giggled.
Dumbledore was about to tear his hair off. The Headquarters was destroyed! Everything in Grimmauld Place was lost, including the Order members. They had come there, Aurors and the rest of the Order just to find a burning neighbourhood and slaughtered Order members. Above it all the Dark Mark hovered, showing it had been the work of Voldemort and his Death Eaters.
Having laying low for a while, this was a too good comeback from Voldemort. He had annihilated over half the Order in one night. But where did he get the information from? No one should be able to tell where the Headquarters were!
He looked at the burnt out Grimmauld Place and then around. The ground was splattered with blood and other things he rather not think about. He turned around and walked away; he needed a new plan and that fast.
Voldemort looked up from his book at Fred and George who was watching him.
"Yes?" he said after a while of silence.
"We just want to thank you," the twins said simultaneously, "for helping Viridis."
"Yes, to allow someone to touch him again. Before we could barely put our hands on his shoulders, and now we can swing him around without him even reacting. He's changed thanks to you."
It was a bit strange and scary seeing the two speaking at the exact same time and not for the first time Voldemort had to wonder if they could read each other's thoughts.
"I didn't really do much," Voldemort said thoughtfully. "I guess I just showed him somehow I wasn't going to hurt him."
"Good because if you had we would have killed you," they said with identical grins and the Dark Lord swallowed nervously, glad they were on his side.
The Dark Lord could not help himself; he gently blew on the exposed stomach of his lover and smiled as Viridis growled lowly in his throat. The man nudged the teen's legs apart and rested his head on the flat stomach, his lover's legs around him.
"What are you doing?" Viridis asked as Voldemort lay gentle kisses on the skin, nipping softly every few times.
"I'm not quite sure. Let me think about it?"
It was nearing the end of July and closer to Viridis' sixteenth birthday. Voldemort did not know yet what to give his lover but had time to think about it. He wanted Dumbledore dead before Viridis' birthday or shortly after so the teen could continue school. Preferably without the idiots that had pretended to be Viridis' friends.
The teen's breathing got heavier as Voldemort slid the shirt open, moving upwards until he could gently suck on one of the nipples.
"Someone… might see us," Viridis panted even as he helped the man get rid of his pants.
"Then let them," Voldemort whispered against the teen's lips. "Let them see us."
Lucius turned around as he was walking out of the door, thinking better thoughts. He closed the door and the potions master looked at him.
"What is it?" Severus asked.
"The lords… are having a private moment outside," he said as dignified as possible. There was a tinge of redness on his cheeks.
There were no other words needed.
"I can't believe we just did that," Viridis muttered, tucking his head under Voldemort's chin.
"I didn't hear you complaining."
"Someone could have seen us!"
"Well, my robe was hiding most of us," the man said and gently strokes the teen's spine.
Viridis could not get up with a good argument so he settled for a small head-butt against the man's shoulder before settling down for a nap.
Dumbledore looked around the table, feeling anger rise. No one dared to join the Order, all afraid that they would end up dead. Some of the original Order members had even dropped out! How bloody useless!
Now only his most faithful were left; the Weasleys minus Bill and the twins, Hermione, McGonagall and some Aurors. All other were dead or had scattered. Severus had gone missing a few days back, and Dumbledore knew he had been betrayed by the potions master as well.
"What should we do headmaster?" Molly asked.
"We will make the Ministry act against Voldemort's Death Eaters while we focus on Voldemort himself. He will die in a few days."
Unknowingly to them, Voldemort was thinking the same thing about Dumbledore at the exact moment.
"You just can't go up and shout Avada Kedavra and expect it to work," Severus said. "The old man is better than that."
"Yes, I know," Voldemort said. "But he will be dead in a few days."
"You don't even have a plan, my lord…"
"Oh hush. I will make one up in a day or two," the Dark Lord said, waving his hand around as he watched Viridis sleep, the teen's head on his lap and his body curled up underneath a thick comforter.
"Are you an eternal optimist underneath that mask that I haven't managed to find during all these years?"
"I said hush…"
A few days later
Dumbledore looked up startled as an alarm went off.
"Voldemort is here!" Arthur screamed.
The headmaster rushed up in a panic; he was not ready yet! He had not figured out a plan! He growled and ran towards the Entrance doors, angry on everyone. They were all useless, all so weak after Harry had gone missing!
He came outside and saw Voldemort standing there, like nothing was wrong, like everything was right with the world.
"Hello Albus," he said cheerfully. "Oh my, how are you? You look a bit pale; you sure you get enough sleep?"
"We can scream each other's names for hours if you like, but I really just want this to be over."
"And why is that?" Dumbledore demanded to know as the rest of the Order filed out.
"I have someone waiting for me," the Dark Lord said. "I thought if I killed you early, I might make it home to give him a good morning-kiss."
One of the Death Eaters shook his head a bit and Voldemort mock-glared at him before saying:
"Do I need to start saying stop moving to you as well, Severus?"
"Doesn't work," the potions master's voice came back.
"Traitor!" the Order screamed.
"Now, now, calm down," the Dark Lord said. "He's been a traitor all this time, so why get upset about it now?"
"I don't think they suspected me in the past, my lord," Severus said. "Can we begin now? I have a potion that needs to be stirred in a half-hour."
"Alright, alright, we're getting there," Voldemort muttered. He then raised his voice and said, "You all know what to do!"
The Death Eaters spread out and within a moment all of them had each shot a curse towards the Order. And the fight was on.
Viridis opened his eyes sleepily to encounter him being alone in the bed. Or not entirely alone.
Nagini stuck her head up as he began moving around and slithered up to him. She gently slid over his back, her cool skin against his sleep-warm and her comforting hiss:
"Tom is out for the moment. Go back to sleep, and he will back in no time."
"Where is he?" Viridis mumbled even as he snuggled down amongst the covers again, making sure Nagini was covered as well.
"He's preparing one of your presents," Nagini said. "After all, it's your birthday today. Go back to sleep."
Her tail strokes the back of his neck comfortingly and he had no troubles whatsoever to listen to her gentle command.
Voldemort breathed a bit hard but he had managed to get Dumbledore on his knees and now had him bound.
"You monster!" Dumbledore screamed. "You killer!"
"That is not entirely new," Voldemort said. "Might come up with something better?"
"You killed a child; you killed Harry and his family! You destroyed them!"
"That again? That's getting boring. And who said I killed the boy?"
The headmaster's eyes widened; Harry was alive? Then it might be a chance to trick the blasted boy if he was found into killing Voldemort! Now, if he only got out of these ropes he should be able to Apparate away…
"Don't try anything," the Dark Lord said casually. "I know about the Prophecy already. How you ordered Trelawney to fake it. I admit you did a good job… but Bill made a better one of discovering it."
"Bill is with you?"
"Oh he took down the wards on Grimmauld Place," Voldemort said. "Really nice lad; couldn't have done it without him."
"Now you are just bragging my lord," Lucius said to him.
"Have I lost all respect from you all these days?" the man wondered out loud as Dumbledore stared.
"No, but with your lover we see you are indeed a human."
"Oh, so my little Viridis is the culprit?"
"Don't deny it my lord!" Bellatrix chirped as she danced up. "Oh, and the Weasleys heard about Billie boy; they tried to make poor Rodolphus deaf!"
Voldemort looked over and saw indeed that Rodolphus looked a bit windy, edging away from the raging group of redheads… plus Hermione as well of course.
"Poor him," the man agreed. "Of course you must take revenge for him, Bella. You too Rabastan. And while we're at it, you can go as well Severus. Have fun."
The three shone up and raced over immediately. Voldemort turned back and said:
"Where was I? Oh yes, I was congratulating Bill. And yes, your golden boy is still alive… just that he's not a golden boy. Never was."
"What have you done to him?"
"Me? I haven't done anything. You however… I will enjoy killing you for him."
"Where is he?"
"You already know? I gave him a new name, based on his beautiful eyes."
Dumbledore was about to start screaming again when he realized something. Viridis was green in Latin… that meant… no.
"Oh yes," Voldemort said, as if reading the man's thoughts. "Your golden boy is no other than my sweet Viridis. He doesn't send his love."
"So you made him your whore?"
"I would refrain myself from calling him that if I were you," the younger of the two said dangerously low. "Today is his birthday, and you are one of the gifts."
Somehow, Dumbledore felt this was going to be the last day of his life.
Two hours later
Viridis stirred as someone lay down behind him. He looked behind himself and Voldemort nuzzled his neck.
"You're back," the teen mumbled, still half-asleep. "Where were you?"
"Surprise," the man said. "You want to sleep some more? It's still early enough for that."
"Hug me," Viridis demanded sleepily. "Otherwise I will get up."
"Oh, I don't have any problems with that command of yours."
"Nagini said you were preparing a present. Where is it?"
"Later, sleepy-head. Now close your pretty eyes and don't worry about anything."
Viridis felt Voldemort embrace him, trap him within a safe cocoon and then he slept.
Three years later
Viridis slowly woke up to feel Voldemort slowly stroke his sides, caressing the naked skin.
"Alright, what do you want now?"
"Who said I wanted anything?" the man said, kissing the back of the young man's neck.
"You always want something. Sex for an example."
"Well, it's early," Voldemort said. "You know I don't do morning-sex."
"Then what is it?"
"Just had the best dream ever… Dumbledore was killed again."
"You always say that when you have a dream about Dumbledore."
"Yes, but it's fun to still kill him after he's been dead for three years!" the man protested and Viridis laughed softly as he turned around to face his lover. He nuzzled his nose against Voldemort's and smiled a silly grin.
It had already been three years since the death of their enemy. Three years since Viridis' life had taken a turn for the better. Voldemort had shown Viridis the mutilated corpse of the headmaster before dinner that birthday three years before, and it was the most wonderful sight the teen had already seen. His enemy dead at his feet, put there by his lover.
So much had changed during those three years. His false friends had been killed as well, most of them anyway. The Weasleys and Hermione had been told the truth about Viridis before they died, and they died screaming traitor. Sweet music to his ears, their screams of pain and hurt.
Not long after that Remus had been invited to the manor by Voldemort. His tired face had shone up with the sight of Viridis, and even more so when the teen had tackled him to the ground in his eagerness to give the werewolf a hug. Now the man worked at Hogwarts as the History professor.
McGonagall had been left alive, but that was because she had accepted what the two had to tell about Dumbledore. She had known to some degree that he was doing it for his own interests, but never had she suspected the Prophecy was false. If she had known, she would never have let the headmaster put Viridis at his relatives. She would have taken him with her, and searched up someone who could have told her the truth. Viridis felt if she had, he might never have fallen in love with Voldemort… and suddenly his life had been okay to a degree. Without the Dark Lord he would have felt lost.
As for the ruler of the world… Voldemort was satisfied with being the Minister's adviser now, as it allowed him much free time. The Minister was of course Lucius Malfoy, what else did you expect? He had always wanted that role, and he knew politics. His son Draco was advancing in the same branch already, although Viridis could care less. He knew Lucius, which was enough of Malfoys for him. Draco had been a prick, and was still as arrogant as before. Narcissa looked like a sour lemon every day so Viridis never really dared talking to her. Lucius, when hearing Viridis' discoveries, had laughed and agreed on the description of his son and had admitted his wife had a tendency to look angry for nothing.
The other Death Eaters either had a job within the Ministry or someplace else, or had just decided to live the life they wanted for a few years before starting to build up a job. Bellatrix for an example travelled along with her husband and Rabastan around the world, the three enjoying their freedom before coming back to their lord who they would always serve no matter what changed or happened.
"You are lost in thoughts," Voldemort said accusingly. "Is it a silent complaint I'm not interesting enough?"
"Oh you just want me to brag about you."
"Of course! That should be obvious!"
Viridis laughed fondly as he pecked the man's pouting lips.
"You are impossible," he decided, and was okay with that.
Hiya, new LV/HP!
Actually I think it's one year now since I posted the first chapter of "Love conquers everything" so let's say this is a celebration for that!
Hope you enjoyed. I hope to finish more of my one-shots, one LM/HP and one DM/HP. Look forward to that!
Until another time,