Evil Is Born Within Us
Summary: Harry never really believed in Dumbledore. He finished school and during that summer afterwards, he decided to let the Light become defenceless. He goes to his lover. SLASH, LV/HP and LM/SS.
Pairing/s: VoldemortHarry, LuciusSeverus.
Warnings: Slash, blood, violence, gore, false Prophecy (or rather, no mention will be made by Harry or Voldemort except for a comment or two), dark!Harry, evil!Harry, sadistic!Harry, sadistic!Voldemort (and yes, he is also evil), less-than-light… eh, Light. That means Dumbledore isn't as nice as he wants everyone to believe. Not totally evil though. Just a bit. That was all, I think. Sort of.
Disclaimers: I don't own Harry Potter.
This piece was finished today to celebrate my birthday. Ah, to be able to write yourself a gift…
Red, glowing eyes watched the teen rise from the bed hungrily, even more so as he bent down to retrieve his clothing.
"Leaving already?" a voice silkily asked.
Turning his head Harry Potter smirked and straightened up, turning fully and making the occupant on the bed moan quite a bit at the sight.
"If I'm not back in ten minutes they'll go crazy… again," he said with a sigh.
"Then why don't you stay here forever?" the voice asked, licking lips as if to prevent drooling at the delicious sight of the naked teen.
Harry stepped up to the bed to which the occupant responded with crawling closer to the edge, wrapping an arm firmly around the teen's waist, chin resting on the teen's chest as the red eyes peered up at him.
"Soon," he promised and leaned down to nip at the lips of his lover. "Then again, I never took you for the patient type, Tom."
"Oops, sorry." He didn't sound sorry at all but smiled gently the same. "My lord."
"Not that either."
"Alright, alright, fine… Voldemort."
The Dark Lord pressed his nose into Harry's abdomen, sneaking out his tongue to lick at the soft skin.
"That tickles," the Boy-Who-Lived informed.
"I don't want you to leave," Voldemort said. His hand caressed Harry's naked back, worshipping it almost.
"I got eight minutes now."
"I want you to stay," the Dark Lord whined.
"I want to stay too," Harry said and gently untangled himself from the man before starting to dress, "and I will be staying shortly. I'm just waiting for the right chance, and you know that. We'll soon be together."
Voldemort smiled drowsily and Harry could not resist leaning down and pressing his lips to the older man. The Dark Lord responded eagerly.
One may think they would be enemies, considering Voldemort had murdered Harry's parents. However, they had not been, not since Harry's third year and he had just a month ago finished school completely. They had been lovers since his fifth year, and planning how to get rid of all their obstacles since the summer before his sixth.
Separating Harry got up again and fished up his shirt. Voldemort remained on the bed, protected only from Harry's eyes by a single sheet that had ridden up a bit now and showed the teen one perfect, white thigh. The raven-haired teen could not resist after having dressed; he kneeled down and pressed a soft kiss to the white skin, hearing Voldemort hiss above his head.
"Brat," he warned.
"Yes, love?" Harry replied. He could see the man was hard again. "Voldemort, you just fucked me for two hours straight, and you're up that fast?"
"I've always been fast at recovering," the Dark Lord said with a shrug, his pupils dilated, as if he was high. And in a way, he was. Harry was there with him. When the teen was there, he was constantly high.
"Hn. Five minutes," Harry said, tapping his chin. Then he shrugged, lifted away the sheet that kept him from his lover's lower half and said, "I guess the Light can wait a bit to see my handsome face."
Voldemort's eyes glimmered and a grin worked its way up his face.
Harry walked along the road that would take him to Grimmauld Place, rather sure the Order was pissed at him. That was all they had been this summer; pissed at him. Not that he cared particularly much; soon they would all be gone, wasted, dead.
Now when he had finished school there was no reason for him to remain the Golden Boy; he and Voldemort had far greater plans than that. Harry was not to be officially introduced as himself as Voldemort's lover, never. He did not want that attention. Rather he would be introduced wearing a mask and having no name. Known only as a deadly man, and perfect lover for the Dark Lord Voldemort. He looked forward to it.
Looked forward to actually sleep in the same room as Voldemort, in the same bed. Up until now, it had been too dangerous. He had to push his tired body up from the deliciously warm bed, away from that gorgeous person that was his lover and go back to the Light where he felt dirty no matter how many showers he took.
Voldemort was much more handsome than any of the offers he had gotten. Voldemort was stronger too; in fact, he was the only one for Harry. He could protect the teen, he would protect the teen; Harry's other proposers expected him to protect them. Ridiculous. Like he would do that. If they were not good enough to be able to fight on their own, they did not deserve being in his presence.
That was why he would forever choose Voldemort. He was simply perfect. The face he had known in the end of his fourth year, the one he had helped Voldemort to gain, snake-like and hairless, was long gone. Tall and slender was his lover now, not gaunt. Rich dark brown hair and a set of perfect lips (really, Harry could dream about them for hours), and he did have a nose. Harry preferred men with nose actually, and was glad his lover had been thoughtful enough for that.
But for now he better lock those images down because he arrived at the house. It would not do if he got hard without a reason. Sighing he walked up and entered.
Mrs Black shrilly voice began and he yanked the curtains over the portrait, muffling her screams a bit and walked down towards the kitchen, knowing it was dinner-time. He was a bit surprised no one had met him at the door, but maybe after yesterday's blow-up they perhaps had given him a bit of space. After all, he had said (yelled) that they were suffocating him.
'I'm not your freaking mate, you stupid little clueless Weasley-spawn!' Pleasant smile to the redhead. "Hi, Ron."
'Jesus, there is something called 'Lower the fucking volume of your voice', you senseless cow!' "Hermione."
"You came right in time for some food!" Mrs Weasley said. "Come on, eat up, it's still warm!"
Porridge. Freaking porridge. Voldemort could kill them for that alone. No one served the Dark Lord's lover porridge. He sat down anyway and took up his spoon, taking note of who was in the room.
Dumbledore (of course, why not?), Moody, Arthur, Molly (poor clueless Molly. Well, at least I get manageable food as long as I'm here), Ron, Hermione, Ginny (seriously, she still thinks I'm gonna marry her? Gross!), Snape (what the hell are you glaring at? You know where I was, you angry because you couldn't get away too? Don't worry, I'm sure Lucius will make up for that), Shacklebolt, Tonks and Charlie. Harry heard others in the house though.
He knew Remus was not there. After Sirius' death in the fifth year (and I still hate Bellatrix for that, too bad Voldemort killed her already) the werewolf had slowly but surely sunk away from the world. Harry and Voldemort had set up a small cottage for the man and settled him in there after Harry's sixth year. No one in the Order knew where he was but presumed he was dead. That was fine by Harry.
The Weasley twins had not joined the Order and never visited their family anymore. Harry knew they had no wish turning to either side, just wanting to remain neutral. They still spoke to him on a regular basis, which he considered a rather good sign.
Bill was engrossed with his work at Gringotts, and had no wish to mingle with the Light or the dark. He was perfectly content working with Goblins.
Starting to eat, he heard the others begin as well. He swallowed the first spoonful and felt the bitter aftertaste of a potion, namely the one he had felt for the last two weeks. Voldemort had grudgingly helped him identify which one after three days, and they had discovered it was to encourage obedience. Harry had to stop his half-naked lover to stalk there and strangle them all with his bare hands. First of all, Voldemort would probably not be able to take them all out that unprepared (although it would be amusing to see him do it all by hand) plus Harry absolutely refused to let anyone see his lover without a shirt. Nope. Never. He was a jealous teen, which suited Voldemort just fine. The man was more jealous anyway.
However, Voldemort had made him immune to the potion so while Harry could still taste the aftertaste he was not affected. It was good they had discovered it so soon, otherwise he might have stopped coming to Voldemort to instead be obedient to the Light. The horror. He nearly shuddered at the thought.
"Voldemort has been rather quiet and content lately," Dumbledore began. "His attacks have lessened, and last time I met him he was almost… happy."
They all shuddered at that, expect for Harry. 'I believe I'm offended.' Of course Voldemort was happier; he got to fuck his lover almost every day! Who wouldn't be? Duh, the headmaster was so dense sometimes.
Oh, right. He's not supposed to know that. Then it was probably just fine that the man was dense. Still, Harry could not help it.
"Maybe he got laid," he offered casually before taking another spoonful of his food.
"Ugh, mate, not a mental image I needed!" Ron groaned while Snape smirked at the comment, and some of the people in the room even chuckled in amusement at that. Harry only shrugged at that and said:
"Well, you got any other ideas?
"Anything but that!"
"Is that so?" Harry said thoughtfully. He finished his portion and stood up; despite Molly's protests he rinsed his plate and put it on the sink to be properly washed later. Before he exited the kitchen though, he turned and continued, "Can't you do some soup or something tomorrow, Mrs Weasley?"
"Sure, but why?" she asked, a little confused.
"Because soup covers the aftertaste of the potion that the others put in my food better," Harry said and they all stiffened a bit, aside of Snape. He looked around, an eyebrow raised, as if he was thinking they were stupid that the teen hadn't noticed. Said teen looked at all of them in turn and continued, "Or you can just stop putting it in the food."
"Harry, we…" Dumbledore began.
"Don't finish that sentence, please," he said. "I know it's a potion for obedience, but it ain't working on me. Spare me the yucky taste, and poor Snape having to do the potions and stop adding them. I'm still serious about soup, Mrs Weasley; you got magic hands for them." With that he left the kitchen.
Harry lay on his bed, wondering for how long it would take before he simply stopped coming back to this place. When he took the decision to stay with Voldemort in the man's bed, letting him wrap the teen up in his warm arms, trapping him to that life forever.
Maybe the day would come tomorrow. Maybe then, he would not rise up. Maybe then, he would instead lie there and tell Voldemort what the man desired to hear above all;
I'll stay with you.
He knew it was too dangerous to go to Voldemort every day, so the next day he did not. He went out though, and went to nearby park to spend his day there. It had been a long time since he spent his days with Ron and Hermione but he could simply not stand them anymore. They had no idea what was going on. They thought they did but Merlin, they knew nothing!
They had no idea what Dumbledore would do to make Harry fight Voldemort. Had no idea what he had already done. There was no way the raven-haired teen would allow Dumbledore to control his life anymore.
He was sick of hearing everyone praise the man, and expecting him to praise the headmaster as well. He felt nauseous just thinking about it. There way no way in hell he would ever speak one good word about the man; he had made too many mistakes, he had manipulated people too much, he had taken matters in his own hands one time too many. It was finally nearing the end.
He stared up at the clear blue sky and sighed, letting his eyes slip close as a warm wind ran through the grass he was lying upon. He missed Voldemort's grounds. The place was nice and no one uninvited could come in. There Harry could just be himself. He had barely had any time there, as he could only stay for a couple of hours, most of it spent in bed due to Voldemort's reluctance to let go of the teen for more than five minutes. Soon there was not a spot on Voldemort's body that Harry didn't know about, and after he had discovered them all it was time to start seriously experiment to what the older male loved.
Maybe they even could do it outside. He grinned at the thought, and was rather sure Voldemort would not put up much of a fight for that. Just as long as no one else watched them; the Dark Lord tended to not wanting to let anyone see the teen with any article of clothing missing. If he could he would have wrapped Harry up in at least three cloaks and made sure you couldn't even see the teen's eyes. As he mentioned earlier, jealous Dark Lord.
Sighing, Harry moved to his side and curled up a bit. He would not sleep but doze for a little bit before he went to get lunch somewhere, as he did not want to return to the house before supper.
Sleeping in Grimmauld Place had always been hard for Harry. No matter how he turned and twisted, he never seemed to get comfortable in his bed, and the noises kept him alert for any danger. Danger in the form of someone trying to cast a spell on him when he was asleep. So far that had not happened but the tension in the house suggested such thoughts may enter the others minds sooner than later.
So now he stared out the window as the sun rose; another sleepless night. He had to get away. Preferably permanently. He tried to remember when it was Molly was taking the children to Diagon Alley (him excluded of course, it was too dangerous according to Dumbledore. Hah! If it really was, then how come Harry got to get outside without supervision for hours each day?), if it was this day or the day after.
Oh well, he would soon discover that. He sat up in the bed and snatched up his clothes before walking out of the room, slinking into a nearby bathroom to freshen up.
Coming down to the kitchen it was empty, but breakfast was on the table. He thought he had heard Molly's humming in the living room. For now though, he sat down and loaded up, craving something to wake himself up some more. That meant coffee, and he drank more of that than actually eating. Food tended to make him sleepy. Although it had to be good food and it had been a long time since he enjoyed that kind of food at Grimmauld Place. Still, one can't be too careful.
"Good morning, Harry!" Molly came bustling down into the kitchen and started on some more toasts with a wave of her wand before shipping out more eggs, a plate with more ham and steaming hot porridge in a near-like cauldron. "You know it's today I'm taking the others to Diagon Alley?"
'I freaking love my timing.' "Yeah," he said, nodding. She began talking again but Harry tuned her out. That meant he was getting out. No way could he, would he, stay another day. Letting the others know about the potion and they would try another one, a better one. Loosing his tongue in the presence of the headmaster was never good. Something bad usually followed.
At least the 'soon' was coming today for one impatient Dark Lord, who would probably celebrate this joyous occasion with sex. Not that it would be much different from any of their other recent meetings, but it was good all the same.
It only took Harry five minutes to pack his stuff, what he wanted to keep anyway. He shrunk that and placed his possessions in his pocket before descending down to the hall that would take him out of the house.
"Harry, maybe you should stay inside today."
Bugger. He had forgotten about the headmaster. He turned around and looked at the man. The man stood patiently a bit away from him, hands clasped in front of him, for once dressed neutrally in dark blue. Well, sometimes even miracles happened to Albus Dumbledore and his fashion-sense. Harry was glad he had decided that over the clothes he was going to wear when seeing Voldemort he had put on oversized jeans and a shirt that was almost like a dress to him, and over that a simple black robe.
"I want to go outside," he said. He looked dressed to be on just another daytrip, like any other days. So why had the old fart decided he should stay inside this day in particular?
"It's not safe."
"Then why have you let me do it the whole summer?" he asked, eyebrow raised. "I'm going outside."
"Voldemort maybe wants to throw us out of balance, releasing you more, let you slip from our watch."
"You've done that the whole summer already," Harry said. "Listen, you don't really have any right to tell me what to do or not. I'm going now."
"Harry, forgive us for the potion," Dumbledore tried with. "It was just for safety."
"Just for safety," he snorted. "Safety. Of course it was for safety, that way you just had to order me and I would come to your side like a mindless little puppy, right?" Dumbledore's eyes narrowed at that and Harry bit his tongue. Too much was shining through, get it together! He took a deep breath to calm down and continued:
"Don't ask me to forgive you for something you don't regret. I'm going now." He walked to the door, wrenched it open and made sure to shut it loud enough to make Mrs Black shriek. He tripped down the stairs with a wicked smile on his face and Disapparated a moment later.
Voldemort muttered under his breath as he searched for a specific parchment, lifting other piles of parchments on his desk, wondering where it all came from. Since when did a Dark Lord mean you had a shitload of paperwork to do? And what was all the crap? It was not like he took a lot of decisions. It was more like, Alright, let's raid this place tomorrow at six. Don't be late. And that was it. No need for paperwork.
A snicker made him look up, growling and ready to scream at whoever dared interrupting him, and even worse, laughing at him. That growl, and scream mind you got stuck in his throat, making him choke a bit even as he promptly forgot about the paperwork.
Harry locked the door he was leaning against, propped himself up and walked leisurely up to the desk, having already shed his outer robe, kicked off his shoes and now dropped his shirt on the floor, leaving him half-naked. He also wore a pair of extra-tight black pants that hugged his slim legs, making the Dark Lord practically drool at the sight.
The teen slid into the man's lap, straddling him and made a long lick up his throat.
"Hello, lover," Harry said with a smirk. "Busy much?"
"When you are here… no." With that he more or less devoured his lover's mouth, grabbing Harry's behind and pressing their lower bodies tighter together. The teen's moan was muffled and he arched his back. As they kissed Voldemort moved one hand to the front of Harry's pants and fumbled with the buttons. As they popped free the Dark Lord moved Harry until his ass was pressing down on the Dark Lord's erection, both legs hanging off on one side of the chair and then Voldemort began pulling the pants off. He could not help but groan as he realized Harry was naked underneath and pulled them down the creamy thighs, Harry kicking them off impatiently before Voldemort returned him to his straddled position.
"Voldemort, oh Voldemort, more please," Harry panted as the Dark Lord sucked on his neck. "Mark me!"
Voldemort took this in consideration. They had been careful before about marking, at least on Harry's body in case someone saw. But now the boy commanded it, buckling wildly atop of the man and he could not refuse.
Harry screamed outright as Voldemort bit into his neck, bit through skin and blood trickled down his chest and he loved it. Hands came to steady him, settling on his hips, calming him down before he moved his hands down to free Voldemort from his robe and opening his pants; he needed his lover to take him now, right where they were. He craved it, had craved it ever since the first time, and yes, maybe that sounded like a whore but he didn't care. Harry would be Voldemort's whore if the Dark Lord wanted it.
Sinking into his lover made Voldemort groan; his boy was unusually feisty today, and would not even pause before he started thrusting, moving his hips up and down in a frenzied pace. All Voldemort could do was hold on tight for the ride.
The Dark Lord trailed his tongue up Harry's chest lazily, the teen too tired to complain about it. Food made him sleepy and so did sex as well, if not more. Sex made him drowsy and sated, sensitive to the simple pleasure the wicked tongue gave him. Yes, he was such a whore. But at least he got pleasure out of it.
"Voldemort," he murmured.
"What is it, love?" the Dark Lord said, each word sending a puff of warm breath on the licked trail, making Harry shiver.
"When I said soon…"
"It became sooner than I thought."
"Really?" Voldemort asked, eager now as he moved upwards to look Harry in the eyes.
"Yes," the teen said and stroke the pale chest above him. "Soon became today."
The man looked into his eyes, shock evident on his face. "Today?" he whispered.
"Yes," Harry said. "I haven't been able to sleep, and they are so annoying. I won't return today; I'll stay with you."
There was a brief silence, and completely stillness. Then Voldemort was all over him, biting his lip, his ear, then neck, giving his skin long licks with his tongue and heaving the teen's legs up around his waist before sinking into him again, making Harry gasp at the penetration and arch his back.
The Dark Lord did not pause but instead picked up the pace, making his lover shriek at the pleasure-pain before Harry's hands clawed at his back, head moving from side to side in delirium.
It lasted forever, and was over in a moment. In the end Harry lay panting on the bed, completely boneless, unable to lift even a finger, his eyes rolling upwards to look at the dark wizard. Voldemort smiled and leaned down.
"Go to sleep, Harry," he whispered against Harry's cheek. "No one shall keep you from your slumber here."
The teen's mouth curved into a smile, and then he slept.
Waking up was rather pleasant. He was still naked but the signs of their passion washed away. His hair had been cleaned as well, and his skin smelt of honey, feeling softer than usual. He curled up underneath the warm sheets, hearing Voldemort dressing and whined at that.
"I have work," the Dark Lord said. "Rest easy, I will be next door. There are some clothes laid out for you when you decide to get up. Otherwise, I will get you for lunch."
"What will lunch be?" Harry mumbled, sticking his head up from underneath the covers. His hair was ruffled, eyes half-lidded and Voldemort could not resist giving him a chaste kiss on those tempting lips.
"Whatever you want it to be," the man said.
"Hn. I want soup."
"What kind of soup, love?" the older asked in amusement. Such simple desires, he clearly had to introduce Harry to more delicious food than he has ever eaten. Nothing was too expensive to his lover.
"Chicken," Harry said and snuggled down. "I like chicken soup."
"Such a child," Voldemort sniggered and nuzzled his hair.
"That and a side-dish of baguettes. Freshly made."
"There, that's better. Chicken soup and baguettes for lunch then. Dinner will be of my choice."
"Deal," the teen said and eyes fell shut once more.
Voldemort had never really been able to truly enjoy watching his lover's every move without any rush. Instead, their eyes had been on the time, food was quickly consumed with hushed whispers, worried glances to see if Harry was going to be late.
Now though… he and Harry could have lunch for hours without any worry. He linked his hands together and leaned his head onto them, elbows on the table as he watched his lover eat.
Harry was exceptionally graceful when eating, very different from teens his age that just wolfed it down. Instead he savoured each bite as if it was part of heaven, and maybe that made Voldemort just a tiny bit jealous… not that he would say it straight out. He would never hear the end of it if Harry knew he got jealous over food.
Maybe it was because Harry had starved a lot as a child. Being allowed all the food he wanted was still sacred for him. Voldemort hoped in time he would change, see food as a necessity and not a gift.
"It's good," the teen commented as he took another sip of the soup.
"Only the best for you," Voldemort murmured and there was that blush he absolutely adored seeing on Harry's face.
"Seriously, you always say things that make me blush. Why?"
"Maybe because I like it," the man said.
Harry huffed and reached for some more bread. They ate in silence for a bit.
"How's work going?" the teen asked.
"Slow. Damn papers…"
"I don't know what half of it is, so no, I unfortunately can't do that."
"What you don't know can't hurt you."
Voldemort stared at him for a bit, then glared half-heartedly. "Very cute of you, Harry," he said.
"But what are all those papers anyway?" the teen asked. "I didn't know Dark Lords had that much paperwork."
"Well, neither did I," the man growled and tore into a new piece of baguette.
"Will you be finished by dinner?" Harry asked.
"Even if I wasn't I wouldn't continue," Voldemort said. "Because now I got the time to help you become more familiar with the manor."
Harry had so far only seen Voldemort's study, the bedroom, the front hall and the corridors that led to the study and bedroom. This was actually his first time inside the dining hall.
"And then…?" the teen could not resist asking.
"I will be basking in the knowledge I finally can have you in my bed without you having to leave," Voldemort said.
"Well… I do have a few scenarios planned out."
"That's the Dark Lord I know and love."
Voldemort would have left Harry in the bedroom but the teen came right back to the study, insisting he wanted to be in the same room as his older lover. The Dark Lord had seen no reason to complain and so allowed it.
Now he was even less declined to complain, when having Harry in sight as the teen napped peacefully on the divan Voldemort had conjured for him, tucked in snugly with a thick comforter. Harry had been without good sleep for a long time and he was making up for it now.
A knock broke him from his musings before the door opened, Lucius standing outside. Voldemort raised a finger to his lips. The blonde complied and kept quiet although looking confused. Then he looked around the room and discovered Harry, smiled a bit and walked with soft steps into the room.
"Has he decided to stay, my Lord?" the man asked as he sat down in the chair in front of Voldemort.
"Yes, from today he will remain with me," Voldemort said. "What brings you here?"
"Severus reported back Dumbledore was suspicious of Harry's recent behaviour."
"Hmm, he didn't tell me any of that."
"I'm sure he will tell you if you ask him," Lucius said. "In case though," he reached into a pocket and withdrew a vial with a misty substance, "Severus sent this to me. A copy of his memory from the occasion that led to the man's suspicion."
"Thank you," Voldemort said and accepted the vial, placing it in one of his drawers. "How is Severus doing?"
"Terrible bored," Lucius said with a dramatic sigh. "And he misses me."
"He misses your cock up his ass." Voldemort was not really known to have a graceful mouth.
"That too," the blonde added with a predatory grin. The Dark Lord rolled his eyes. "He'll continue spying on Dumbledore."
"Good. Hopefully he won't have to do that much longer."
"Will they search for Harry once they realize he's gone?"
"Of course; he's their saviour and sacrifice lamb. They need him to do their dirty-work, then they'll kill him, or use him to breed new powerful wizards and witches to the world."
"Rather disgusting when you put it that way, my Lord," Lucius noted.
"Well, I won't have that," Voldemort said and looked at the piles of papers surrounding his desk. "Why must these papers be here? They're offending me."
"With all due respect, I scarcely believe the papers are actually offending you."
"They are there; that's enough."
The soft voice, thick with sleep made both men look over at Harry. The teen yawned and blinked his eyes open. Voldemort was ever so glad the day Harry had come over to him without the glasses, having corrected his eye-sight permanently with a spell the teen had found. Those glasses had been rather annoying for a while.
"We woke you up?" Voldemort asked.
"Not really," Harry said and sat up slowly. "Hi, Lucius."
"What are you talking about?"
"The Lord is complaining about paperwork," Lucius filled in with.
"Well, it's a bad habit of his," Harry said around a yawn. "Complaining as if he was a spoiled brat that is."
Harry got up, walked over to Voldemort and prevented any more anger by sitting down in the man's lap and draping still sleep-warm arms around his shoulders. That shut him up, and Lucius sniggered at that.
"Not a word, Lucius," Voldemort hissed and pointed a finger in his direction. His arm wormed around Harry's waist and cuddled him closer. Lucius had a hard time keeping his face blank.
"As you wish, my Lord."
Harry stared at the dinner table, at the different meals and leaned closer to have a look. Voldemort chuckled at the sight his lover made, all childlike with his wide eyes and tilted head. He even sat on his knees on the chair, hands on the table to give him a better view.
"I'll explain what everything is, love," the Dark Lord said and Harry sat back down after a little bit, turning to look at his older lover. "I thought you should have a taste of what you deserve."
Harry blushed at that and Voldemort could not resist dragging the chair closer to his own, until the arms of their chairs were next to each other. Harry did not complain over that, instead reaching over to intertwine their hands.
"Then start explaining," the teen whispered hotly in his ear. "My body is craving food."
"Is that all it craves?" Voldemort asked with a grin.
"Behave right, and it will not be all."
When dinner had come and passed with no sign of Harry Dumbledore sent out people to look for the teen, not being too worried. Harry had rebelled before; this time could not be much different.
The kids had returned from Diagon Alley and sat down to eat while the others impatiently waited for Harry. He had grown more annoying since school, now when there was little that could control him. Dumbledore was growing worried that the teen would not listen to his orders anymore, like this morning when he just ran out. He should have restrained the boy. Should have locked him up in his room to make him more obedient.
He began to worry when the people returned without Harry, saying there had been no sign of him at the usual places. He sent them out again, this time exploring Diagon Alley and the rest of London. This was not going as planned. This was already turning bad. A few more hours, or if the Ministry got to know, it would be a disaster.
"Why don't you have some dinner, Albus," Molly said. "I'm sure Harry just wants to be alone for a bit, and he'll come home soon."
"Of course," the headmaster said, keeping up with the mask as he sat down. "He needs his space after all. Let's not hurry him."
Severus rolled his eyes. As if the boy was coming back to them. He was surprised Harry had not done it earlier, and then he started to eat.
Once night came, Dumbledore sent out the entire Order to try finding Harry, once more wishing he should have just locked the boy in the room.
Then the Ministry found out the Boy-Who-Lived was missing.
And hell promptly started.
Meanwhile Voldemort sat in the living room, Harry snuggled into his side and just a few candles floating in the air, Nagini curled up in front of the hearth and the fire reflecting on her scales. The rest of the room lay in darkness, just as the Dark Lord preferred it when evening came.
He carded his hand through Harry's hair, moving his head to the side as the teen's mouth moved on his skin, lightly hissing at the teasing contact. Harry grinned and licked a slow trail up to the man's ear, sucking the lobe in and stroking along the chest, almost purring in contentment.
"Harry…" Voldemort exhaled, pulled him over to his lap and kissed him soundly. "Your beloved Order must be frantic by now."
"Let them be," Harry whispered, allowing his lover to rip his shirt off. "Let them tear through London, through England, they'll never find me. No one will ever find me again."
"No one except for me," Voldemort said and moved them so they were lying on the couch.
"You never need to find me," Harry said, kissing the corner of the man's mouth. He then moved his mouth to the Dark Lord's ear and whispered, "I'm always here with you."
Voldemort shivered hearing his lover speak Parseltongue, smooth hissings caressing his ears and then he claimed Harry's mouth even as he began to unbutton the teen's pants.
The fire rumbled quietly throughout the room, casting long shadows and Harry gripped Voldemort's shoulders tightly, then threw his head back and let Voldemort mark him.
Harry felt himself being lowered down gently onto a soft bed and opened his eyes to slits. Voldemort pressed a kiss to his forehead before joining him on the bed, drawing the covers over them. It was going to be his first night spent with the Dark Lord. Harry smiled and moved closer, hugging Voldemort's torso and sighing.
"Are they panicking you think?" Voldemort asked even as he set out to shut the lights in the room, only letting the moonlight inside from the windows. Harry drowsily watched the man's hand move gently, killing the lights with a mere movement of his fingers.
"That, and much more," Harry murmured, remembering Voldemort had asked a question. "The Ministry getting to know about it, and it's going to be pure chaos…"
"Do you think we should get your werewolf here?"
"Maybe that's for the best," Harry said. "He would want to be close to me now when I'm not with the Light anymore."
"We'll go to him tomorrow and see what he wants."
"You're almost sleep-talking," Voldemort murmured. "Close your eyes already."
Harry looked up at him. "I just want to look at you forever," he whispered. He traced Voldemort's cheek with his fingers. "Just want to be here forever."
"You will be here forever."
Of that Harry had no doubt.
Waking up was pleasant, and warm, and just perfect. Harry moved slowly, felt Voldemort's arm tighten around his naked waist even as the man groaned a bit, moving around. The teen moved around so their chests were pressed together and looked at the Dark Lord's still sleeping face.
He looked considerably younger when asleep, and adorable. Harry grinned sleepily at that, and placed a sloppy kiss on the man's cheek. Voldemort's eyes moved underneath his eyelids, then slowly peeled open.
"Keep your mouth to yourself," he muttered.
"Why?" Harry replied and licked a trail along the Dark Lord's throat, making the man moan quietly. He threw a leg over Voldemort's waist, bringing them closer. "Don't you want my mouth on you?"
"Mmmm…" Voldemort had temporarily forgotten how to speak.
As Harry continued with his kisses, he was happy to notice Voldemort was not that much of a morning-person. He grumbled quietly and tried to move away from the hot and slick feeling of his younger lover's mouth so he could sleep some more but Harry did not give him a chance.
They ended up with Voldemort on his stomach and Harry sitting on his back. The teen grinned at this and leaned down, caressing the man's skin with the tip of his tongue.
"That tongue of yours," the Dark Lord groaned, "is going to be the death of me."
"Oh dear, no," Harry replied and pressed his chest flush against Voldemort. "We wouldn't want that, now would we?"
"Stop licking me then."
"Mm, don't want to…"
"Horny child," the man grumbled and lifted Harry from him, then sat up himself. The teen looked innocently at him. "I'm not falling for that one."
"That look of yours."
"What's wrong with my look?"
"You're giving innocence a bad name," Voldemort groaned as Harry blinked a couple of times, then smiling sweetly. "Get off me."
Instead Harry came closer, and the Dark Lord felt a moan bubbling in his throat as the teen rocked down hard on the man's lap.
"You really want me off?" Harry asked, looping his arms around Voldemort's neck. "Hmm?" He breathed hot air over the man's ear, and then he was being pushed down on the mattress, Voldemort grabbing hold of his legs and growling before claiming his mouth.
Things had gone from relatively good to pure hell in one night, and Dumbledore was ready to tear Harry apart when they found him.
Some would say if they found him but the headmaster was an optimistic man and was sure they were going to locate the boy sooner or later. And he was getting it once he was found.
The Ministry was now involved and sorely disappointed in that the Order had not given Harry over to them so they could watch him. Because if the Ministry had had surveillance over the boy, he would be in bed, sleeping now, of course. He would not be lost.
Dumbledore gnarled his teeth at that. Overconfident Ministries always got on his nerves. The Minister got on his nerves. The Aurors got on his nerves.
At this moment, everything alive and moving got on his nerves.
This was not going to be a good day.
Voldemort normally was not this lazy in the morning. Of course, all other mornings he had never had Harry with him. He had the feeling he would become very lazy in the mornings to come.
But they had managed to get out of bed, and were now in the shower. Harry let the cascade of water just flow over him, leaning into Voldemort's chest with a content smile on his face. The Dark Lord showered quickly and started on Harry, the teen humming and pressing closer.
Drying both of them with a snap of his fingers instead of using towels, Voldemort wondered what to wear. Harry was already by the closet, searching. The Dark Lord had bought clothes for the teen, but not nearly enough for his own standards. He wanted to do shopping with Harry by his side, let the boy choose for himself what he wanted exactly.
It seemed like a trip was in order. As he dressed in a forest-green robe, he decided to ask Harry where:
"I sense there is a need to expanding your choice of clothing."
"Is it?" the teen asked, buttoning a red shirt. "I think it's plenty."
"Not enough," Voldemort decided.
"We can't exactly go shopping in Diagon Alley."
"No, we cannot. But the rest of the world is free to walk around in."
Harry stopped his movements. He looked up at the Dark Lord from his position on the floor. Voldemort wondered why Harry always dressed sitting on the floor like a child whenever he had the time.
"Are you suggesting… that we should go somewhere?" the teen asked.
"As a matter of fact, I am proposing that. It's been a while since I left England."
Harry stood up now, finishing dressing and Voldemort dragged his fingers through his lover's hair, enjoying the silky feeling the strands gave him.
"I've never been outside of England," Harry murmured. "I wouldn't know where to go."
"Then… I'd suggest Greece to start with."
"Greece?" Harry looked at him. "You sure?"
"Yes, I am. If you want to."
"Kidding me? I'd love to!"
Leading the teen out of the room and to the dining hall for breakfast, they discussed when to leave. Voldemort needed a break from those damned papers (seriously, just more drops in and he hasn't even done anything) and Harry needed away from England. And from the pressure of being searched after. No one would expect Harry Potter to be in Greece.
And if they did, there was always the Dark Lord with his wand ready and his mind wanting to kill something. No problems.
Breakfast was a quiet affair, Harry eating to his heart's content and Voldemort wondering just how much sugar the boy could stuff himself with. The Dark Lord was drinking tea as it was, scolding hot and unsweetened, and preferred to keep his hands away from anything sweet. The sugar made Harry happy though, and very wanton for kisses and affectionate nuzzles.
Voldemort could not really complain about that.
Severus rubbed his poor ears (the Light was really loud when they were worried and scared and annoying) as he sat down in one of the chairs, feeling Lucius gently stroke his knee before the door opened and Voldemort stepped inside, followed by Harry.
"Lucky you," the potions master muttered to Harry.
"And why's that?" Harry asked with a smile, fully knowing why.
"Those idiots," was his only explanation.
"Are they in a panic?" Voldemort said as he sat down, thought for a moment and then pulled Harry down on his knee. Although surprised, the teen did not try to move.
"They act as if the world has ended and the devil is coming for them."
"Which technically he is," the Dark Lord said with a grin.
"Hey, don't flatter yourself," Harry chided.
"You're saying I'm not as scary as the devil?"
"More evilness in that smile of yours, mister, then I might consider it," the teen said.
Voldemort's grin grew wider, Severus let out a groan as Lucius started massaging his shoulders and Harry affectionately nuzzled his nose with his lover's.
They were booked in for four days at a small house on the beach and Harry stared at the sea while Voldemort put away their trunks. They had been accompanied by Lucius, who was hiring the rooms, and secretly Severus had tagged along. He had convinced Dumbledore he had been given orders by Voldemort and would be gone for a few days.
Harry turned back now and saw the three set away things, and tilted his head to the side. Who would have thought that Lucius and Severus were lovers? People thought Severus loved Lily and that Lucius was crazy about Narcissa. But their marriage had fallen apart ages ago and Lucius had fallen in love with Severus around the time Draco was born. He had finally filed for a divorce and driven almost to the brink of madness for the insult of divorce, Narcissa had fled out of the country. She had sworn to come back and castrate him some day so that Severus would never receive pleasure from him. Lucius had only shook his head as he told the Dark Lord this; her bark was a hell of a lot worse than her bite. With a little luck, they would never see the bitch again.
Voldemort wrapped his arms around the teen and kissed his neck. "What are you thinking about?"
"Nothing special. Can we go down to the ocean?"
"Right now?" the man asked.
"Yeah. I've never been this close to it!"
Harry didn't really give Voldemort any time to answer; instead he took the man's hand and rushed out of the house. They all had shed their robes for pants and shirts, or in Harry's case chopped off pants and a T-shirt, and Voldemort was glad he had taken off his shoes so he was barefoot, otherwise the shoes would have been filling up with sand this very moment.
The teen stopped short of the water and then carefully dipped in with his toes. With a delighted smile he turned to the man.
"Of course it is, you silly boy," the man said and came closer. "What did you expect?"
"I don't know! I've never been to the ocean."
Voldemort walked out in the water, wetting his pants but not really caring. Harry walked further out, wriggling his toes in the water and grinning like a lunatic.
"I want to swim," he declared.
"We can do that tomorrow," Voldemort said. "For now we should rest and then commence to shopping."
"You sound like you're eager for it."
"Greece wizards and witches are known for their quality clothes," the Dark Lord said. He pulled Harry close as the waves engulfed their legs in water. "I think I have to change clothes before we leave."
"Or just spell them dry."
"Perhaps. Add a couple of cooling charms too, otherwise I might melt."
"Wouldn't want that, now would we?" Harry asked and kissed him lightly. "But I want to take a swim tomorrow."
"Yes, we shall. Patient, be patient."
"Patient is boring."
They began to walk back to the house and saw Lucius stand outside. Severus kept himself in the shade and scowled at his lover's attempts to make him come out.
"No, I will not," they heard him say.
"Please, love, the sun won't hurt you."
"It just might," Severus muttered.
"Severus," Lucius said sternly. "Come join me outside. You're just embarrassed about the clothing."
"What clothing?" Harry called. "I want to see! Severus, come out!"
The potions master slowly did so. Harry grinned.
Gone were the black, billowing robes. His hair clean and soft, tied together low in his neck, then an emerald shirt partly unbuttoned and black three-quarter pants. On his feet were not his polished black shoes but a pair of sandals. He looked mildly uncomfortable and crossed his arms as he came out.
"It looks good on you," Harry said. "Plus no one will recognize you in that!"
"Why couldn't you have changed into something similar?" Severus complained to Lucius.
"Will you do it?"
"Tomorrow," the blonde said. "Maybe."
"We can always spell his clothes that way," Voldemort said with a shrug. "Let me get ready and then we'll leave."
England was in an uproar. Everyone knew of Harry Potter's disappearance. The public screamed in horror. Rita Skeeter's pen almost burned up in her frantic writing of outrageous articles that contained Harry's life story (oh, it was only the fiftieth time they wrote it in his seventeen-year old life), his meetings with Voldemort, connection to the Order of the Phoenix, interviews with old classmates and then best friends (or so they thought), then finally about his disappearance and theories of where he was and how he was doing. Meanwhile, the Ministry and the Order just tried to survive the day as it came. It was bad enough Harry had started to reject them; if that ever became known people would hang them all.
Dumbledore wanted to tear something apart. Harry had left them. That arrogant brat had just gotten up, left the house and left them! How dare he? For all the things they had done for that ungrateful boy! Sure, maybe putting him at the Dursleys where mental abuse was a winner hadn't been his smartest method but it was all for the greater good! Harry could have had a nice life once he defeated Voldemort. With that enemy gone he would be famous, he would be swimming in money and then he could move wherever he wanted without Dumbledore putting up one single complaint. He had been ready to give the saviour up afterwards.
Not now though. When they found Harry, he himself would make sure the boy could never leave again. He didn't care if it was against the teen's wishes; he had been far too nice to him this summer. Harry needed discipline. He needed it quick too. Dumbledore was the best to show that stupid brat that he couldn't just do whatever he wanted.
He was the Boy-Who-Lived, and he had some expectations to live up to. He had a goal he had to do; he had to get rid of Voldemort for the Wizarding World. And Dumbledore wouldn't rest until he got the brat to do it.
"Gesundheit," Severus said absently.
"Someone's talking about me," he complained.
"Muggle saying. If you sneeze, someone's talking about you."
The potions master looked strangely at him, then shook his head and returned to inspect one of the robes. Harry curled his hands around one of the man's arms and said:
"Where are Lucius and Tom?"
He had to say Tom. He didn't like Tom. He liked Voldemort more. Sounded more intimidating. Tom was just ordinary. Like Harry. Maybe he should change his name too in the future. Harry was boring.
"They were going to get some lunch for us," Severus replied. He didn't shake of the teen's hands. He rather liked it. But he would never say it out loud and they both knew that.
"Surprising that they are willing to leave us alone," Harry murmured.
"Oh, I'm sure they left something here with us."
"Paranoid old farts," the teen grumbled and Severus smirked at that.
"That's your lover, not mine," he replied. "Lucius is still considered young according to wizard standard."
"He could be my dad."
"And your lover could be your grandfather, now hush."
"Ugh, I didn't need that mental image, Sev, thank you very much." He let the man look at the robe in peace, ignoring the shop-keeper and then a thought struck him. "Hey, Sev?"
"What will Dumbledore say?"
"Well, I just disappeared and then Voldemort forces you to stay for a few days. What will he make of that?"
"He'll speculate. I will merely state I never saw you nor any indication that the Dark Lord was the one to take you away."
"Hmm… okay. It's not like I'll ever return."
In the end Severus did buy the robe and then they went out in the sun. Harry had been fitted with most clothing and was overwhelmed by the amount that Voldemort had bought. When he had asked if it wasn't enough the Dark Lord had merely glanced at him and declared they would buy just more because of that. Harry was going to be shopping-damaged by the time they made it back to England.
Lucius came to collect them so they could have lunch at a small diner. Voldemort was waiting and tugged down Harry next to him once they arrived. Harry chuckled and kissed him on the cheek.
"What are we having?" he asked.
"A variety of what they had to offer," Lucius said as he and Severus sat down. "After this we will be going back for some rest, and Tom said something about the ocean."
"Is there still time to take a swim today?" Harry asked excitedly.
"Should be," Voldemort replied. "It's better too that we don't do it in the middle of the day; it's too hot then."
Harry was already looking forward to it.
Four days of sun and heat and lots of fun had made Harry very happy and content. Voldemort opened the door to the manor and the teen rushed inside, grinning.
"I guess you have some things to do now, right?" he asked.
"Yes, I believe so," the Dark Lord replied. "Both I and my second-in command have been gone, I can't help but wonder what little naughty things the Death Eaters have done."
"You make them sound like unruly children."
"They are unruly children."
"And how will you punish them?"
"Hmm… they hate training duelling. Tedious and makes them break a sweat."
"So you'll have them train duelling?"
"Yes," Voldemort said and grinned. "And read about spellwork."
"That's just plain mean. I for one hate studying."
"What makes you think they don't hate it as well? Hurry up; I must prepare the most boring work for them for when they arrive tonight! Also I will introduce you tonight."
He made it sound like a question and now turned to look at the teen.
"How will you introduce me exactly?"
"How about 'Alrightie, this is my lover. Got any questions? Yes, you have? Okay, I won't answer them. Shut up and do your homework.' Does that work?"
"If you drop the 'Alrightie' and 'do your homework'."
"Okay. But otherwise it was fine?"
"Yeah… it was fine."
"Good. Now, let's get upstairs and drop of our things."
"Are we going somewhere?"
"We are going to shower?"
Harry started walking up the stairs along with the man. "Oh, are we now?"
"Yes we are," Voldemort stated. "Or we might do naughtier things, it all depends how sexy you look."
"Voldemort, not having sex for four days makes you terribly horny, did you know that?"
"Well, I just couldn't start fucking you with Lucius and Severus just in the other room!"
"I'm quite sure they wouldn't have minded."
The Dark Lord didn't answer, only sniffed and Harry rolled his eyes. Voldemort sure was childish.
After a few minutes, when they had started unpacking, he added shopaholic.
"How much did you buy?"
"You weren't there to see it?" Voldemort asked.
"Yes, I was but you must have drugged me so I just went along with everything! This… this is expensive! And this too! Why the hell did you buy leather pants? And where? I didn't see you buy it!"
Voldemort chuckled and took the pants from Harry's hands.
"I bought them when you weren't looking. I liked them, that's all. They're special too. See, they're wide now, right?"
"Yes, but once you take them on they'll slim down. They'll be like a second skin."
Harry's eyes clouded over as he pictured Voldemort in them. He stood still for a moment and then said:
"Love, am I drooling?"
"You might if you don't pull yourself together."
"I know." Harry wiped his mouth and went on with unpacking the rest of the shopping bags. They hadn't bought clothes only but also books and various other trinkets neither of them could resist. Harry's money had long since been transferred to Voldemort's vault and the Goblins would never tell Dumbledore or anyone in the Light that. So now they used both the teen's money and the Dark Lord's. Both had a substantial amount of it, and nothing to use them on.
Once they finished unpacking all the clothes Voldemort more or less dragged Harry into the bathroom. The teen knew he would be sore afterwards. At least his backside.
But he didn't mind.
There was nothing.
He was nowhere.
That brat Harry Potter was nowhere.
Not in Diagon Alley.
Not in Knockturn Alley.
Not in Muggle London.
Not at the Dark Lord's manor wherever it was. Dumbledore had checked with Severus. The man hadn't heard a word about it, and neither had anyone else of the Death Eaters he had met. It irritated Dumbledore that the potions master didn't tell the identities of the followers. He claimed he couldn't. The headmaster had no right to interrogate him but had to trust his spy's words. That was getting annoying.
The people had calmed slightly but the smallest thing set them off again.
And their search had ended. The Ministry still searched but the Order's search had ended.
This was now a hunt.
And Dumbledore had no intention of losing.
They had taken it rather well Harry supposed. Or they knew better than to say anything. The Death Eaters he meant. He was watching them being drilled by Voldemort. He had shown up with his new face one day and foolishly people had underestimated him. A couple of Crucios later they could conclude his face changed; neither his personality nor his temper.
Harry stretched out on the throne, grinning as Crabbe senior hit the ground, placed there by a perfect hit from Lucius. The blonde raised an elegant eyebrow and moved back into position. He was having way too fun with them all.
Severus was off the side, making some potions. Harry had been told by Lucius the man had rarely needed to participate in duels like these due to his position as a potions master. That was the reason why many doubted and underestimated him. They had another opinion once he showed them their right place; right under his feet.
He was kind of glad no one had said anything about him. He was just Voldemort's lover, a young man lazing around, clad in dark clothes (very tight too, good he was wearing a cloak so the Dark Lord couldn't watch his ass) and a white mask covering his eyes and forehead. His long, black hair was free and silky, thanks to a shampoo and Voldemort's determination to get the hair under control.
A hand stroke through said hair and Harry looked up to meet Voldemort's gaze.
"How are they doing?" Harry whispered. Voldemort really loved hearing him speak Parseltongue.
"Awful," Voldemort replied. "They are lazy. I'll never win at this rate."
Harry chuckled and got up. They were lazy. Sloppy. There was no coordination, no order and they were sweating when they were forced to move. At this rate, the only ones who could fight at Voldemort's standard were Lucius and Severus. Perhaps some of the younger ones, or those true to Voldemort and not just wanting to kill some people they didn't like.
Draco wasn't a Death Eater. Lucius had told Voldemort he didn't want his son to be involved, and the Dark Lord had just shrugged and gone on with his day. Shrugged. Yes, the Dark Lord had shrugged. Harry had made note of the day, earning himself a smack at the back of his head. He still wrote it up. Voldemort had growled at him, but quieted down soon enough. Harry hadn't really met Draco ever since he and Voldemort started seeing each other. The blonde was polite but a little of a daddy's boy, not in the arrogant and bitchy way he had showed back at Hogwarts but as in he adored his father and hated his mother. It was a plus he liked Severus too Harry guessed. That meant he got rid of one bitch and gained a person he actually respected. Double win.
"What are you thinking about?" Voldemort asked as he sat down.
"Draco," he replied.
"Are you jealous?"
"No, just curious."
"You're jealous," Harry stated and while Voldemort growled he didn't actually disagree. "I was just thinking about him. How lucky he is."
"Yeah. He got a father, who loves him, and then his bitch mother goes away and instead he gets a godfather and his father's lover who also loves him."
The Dark Lord didn't really have anything to say when he heard that. Harry shrugged it away and looked up at Voldemort.
"I wanna plan someone's death," he said brightly, enough so the Death Eaters heard. Some looked at him strangely.
"You sure change moods quickly. Alright, you brat, who do you want dead?"
"Loads of people." He laughed after that. Voldemort noted the Death Eaters stayed clear away from the throne except for Lucius who was only shaking his head.
"Anyone specific?" he asked.
"Hmm… can't we burn down the Headquarters for the Order? After I've cleaned it out for any stuff I want."
Voldemort pondered over this.
"Sounds like a good idea," he admitted.
They had done plans. They had tried to figure things out. Lately it hadn't been much planning though, only longing for each other and for Harry's eventual permanent stay. Wiping out their Headquarters seemed to be good enough. Harry had walked around the Fidelius Charm long ago so Voldemort knew it was Sirius Black's old family home.
The time for the end had begun with a simple wish for some bloodbath. And being an ordinary Dark Lord, he of course took the suggestion to the heart with a grin.
Remus Lupin woke up in a room he knew was not the one in the cottage. It was a rich room judging by the smell and so he opened his eyes.
It was in a warm red, reminding him of Sirius in a good way. He sat up, stretching after a long sleep. Much too long sleep. He must have been moved while he was asleep, but he was dressed in new night clothes and smelt fresh. He had been asleep for a long time but had been taken well cared of. That was nice.
He was glad to realize as he looked around that his things were there too. The photo albums with himself and his friends, him and Harry and some more. The old chest where he kept all of Sirius' things with his dearest friend's smell still there, if just barely. Thanks to his werewolf he could smell it much better. One day the smell would go away, be worn away but he would always remember it in his heart.
Two doors lead out. One to a bathroom, and the other to a sitting room. He rose from the bed and moved to the bathroom. On the way he stopped by the walk-in closet. Fresh robes, not too flashy and rich, hung there alongside with his old ones, all cleaned. He took a deep-blue one and freshened up before dressing. He wasn't worried. He knew he was safe.
When he moved towards the sitting room he could feel the vibrating energy from where, and he smiled upon the sight.
Harry almost jumped him with a grin on his face. He buried his nose into Remus' damp hair and hugged the werewolf tightly around the neck.
"Hello, cub," Remus whispered.
"Remus. I'm so glad we came and got you."
"I'm glad too. And thank you for bringing everything with you."
"I knew you wouldn't part with anything. It's good that you're here now."
There was something nervous inside of the teen. Remus pulled him back and searched his face.
"What is it?" he asked.
"The plan is shaping," Harry said. "In just a little while, we're going to burn Sirius' house and everyone inside. And those who survive we'll hunt down while Lucius brings down the Ministry."
Harry waited for the answer. Remus knew what he wanted. And he knew he would give it to the teen without feeling ashamed. Burning Sirius' house wouldn't dishonour the man. It would honour him. A bloodbath in Sirius' name, his house trapping those damn Order members into their trip to the afterlife.
Harry had snuck into Grimmauld Place before. No problem. However, he hadn't done it long enough to pack some things on him and then sneak out. He was lucky Dumbledore wasn't there. Or maybe unlucky. He wanted the man dead.
Oh well. He just had to kill him another time. Or have Voldemort do it. The man had been itching to finally send the old man to his afterlife. As the Dark Lord said it; it was long overdue.
Mrs Black was silent as he snuck in. She was snoring and he rolled his eyes. He went in to do it quickly and started the job. If he was discovered, he'd touch a pendant and Severus would burst inside along with Lucius. Voldemort was keeping the Ministry and Dumbledore busy with a raid. Maybe he would get to kill Dumbledore there. Or at least rip off a limb. Harry might be satisfied with an eye too, if he really had to lower himself.
Not even Kreacher noticed him moving around and soon he had his little odd trinkets safe, including a locket. The Slytherin locket. He had felt Voldemort's magic radiate from somewhere in the house and had now located it. It was a Horcrux, and it felt warm and comfortable around his neck.
He of course knew about the Horcruxes. He knew he was one too. He knew Dumbledore believe in the Prophecy. He also happened to know that he and Voldemort thought it was utter bullshit. After that they had snogged. Sure, a Prophecy was said to be true but you could twist the words so in your mind it's already fulfilled. Voldemort and Harry had thought of the Prophecy as fulfilled and hadn't given it a thought ever since. So far it was working.
Harry had asked his lover once if it wasn't weird to have sex with your own Horcrux. Voldemort hadn't minded; it made them more connected, more prone to feel each other's emotions and during sex, the Dark Lord got high on feeling Harry's delirium. Harry had promptly named him 'the secret Pervert' with a capital P. Voldemort hadn't thought it as funny as he had.
Now he was moving out again after having placed out some potions Severus had made. When asking the man what they would do, the potions master had smiled and replied they would make a good fire. Harry had wanted to place one in each room, perhaps in every corner of the room just to make sure it would be a good fire.
Closing the door he snuck through the wards, careful not to break them and ran up to where Lucius and Severus were. He was grinning like a loony, but the two were used to it and made no note of it.
"When is it going to blow?" he asked, almost clapping his hands in delight.
"You'll notice," Severus said. "There will be screaming."
One of the windows exploded outwards, glass falling down on the street and the teen's eyes widened as black fire roared out.
"Black fire?" he whispered with a smile on his face.
"It's magical fire, of course it doesn't look like a normal one," Severus said. "It looks absolutely marvellous."
"You can say that twice."
The fire was what sounded for the first minute. Then there was a scream. He shuddered in delight as he realized it was Ginny. He hated her. Despised her. She thought he was her prince and that he only had eyes for her. Like she was meant to be his wife, and that he would willingly lie down in the same bed and have sex with her. Ugh. Disgusting. He would not lie to sleep with someone that obsessed with him. Much less marry them.
Then he heard others. The screams and the fire cracking away, the house groaning as it was breaking apart, it all added up to be very beautiful.
Harry loved it.
The Headquarters were gone. Most of his people, his loyal oblivious people were gone. The people who worshipped him and didn't think he could harm a fly. They were all gone and lost. Burned away in the middle of the night, the Morsmorde hanging over the blackened remains.
Meanwhile he had been busy with Voldemort and a group of Death Eaters. They had attacked Diagon Alley. Not harming any stores, no. now when he had had time to think Dumbledore knew it was distraction. To distract him from what someone else was doing. Someone had burned down Grimmauld Place on Voldemort's orders, he was sure of it. But who knew about where it was?
Severus knew. He hadn't been seen these last few days.
Harry knew. He had been missing for almost two weeks.
Which one was it? Had they been tortured for the information, or had they given it willingly? Which one of them had spilled the secrets?
Dumbledore had lost hope of hunting down the teen. It was clear Harry did not want to be found. He could be hidden just beyond Dumbledore's reach, behind safe and strong wards and no one would ever find him.
He grimaced. It pulled at his wound and he put a hand over it. He had to have some time to adjust to the new change. He was no longer young and could just bounce back from a defeat. But he would kill Voldemort. One way or another, he would find a way to kill that damn Voldemort.
Harry woke up to a gentle shake on his arm. He yawned and opened his eyes.
"Great job tonight, love," Voldemort whispered and kissed his temple. "You killed almost all of them with that little stunt of yours."
"I had been waiting for the chance to hear someone die," he whispered.
"How long have you been waiting?"
"For as long as I can remember."
When he had come to school Dumbledore thought he would have a sweet, oblivious boy to manipulate. Harry would worship him for taking him away from the Dursleys. But it didn't work.
Because Harry was different even when he arrived there. He had a mask. A mask that hid a darker side of him. The side that agreed with Voldemort's ideas when he heard them. The side that found admiration towards the Dark Lord, not against him. He had fought the first time, knowing the Philosopher's Stone couldn't bring the Dark Lord any happiness. Voldemort had been too desperate for a body to properly listen to him, and they had parted with the Dark Lord thinking they were enemies, and Harry thinking of those intense red eyes.
The second year, when Tom Riddle appeared in the end, Dumbledore thought he had fought and destroyed the diary but in reality he had just convinced the older teen to not do it. With Tom's help, before he would vanish back into the diary, he had created a fake copy and the Basilisk had to sacrifice a little venom to go with the fake tooth. None was the wiser.
In third year, Voldemort had found out what Harry had done in second year, and contacted him through Wormtail. That was the beginning of their relationship.
Voldemort smiled as he remembered. His dark Harry. He remembered the boy, only thirteen years old with such admiration in his eyes, such a large, crazy grin and the eagerness he displayed to give Voldemort a body.
"Now you have heard it," he said. "How does it feel?"
"I want more."
"I know. But not tonight. I want to show you something."
"A souvenir. Or two actually."
Harry got up from the divan and followed Voldemort sleepily. They went down the stairs and towards the throne room. Once they entered, Harry spotted the low pillar standing in the middle of the room, right before the stairs to the throne and on top was a plate with a glass monitor over it.
"What is it?" he asked.
"Go and have a look."
Harry walked closer and his eyes widened.
An eye and a hand. A withered old hand, cut cleanly below the wrist. The fingers looked like claws. Then the eye. Round like a ball with a tail of redness, the nerves looking so frail and thin. The sparkling blue colour was still there.
"How…?" Harry asked breathlessly.
"I took him by surprise. I did take half the arm but decided to cut it."
"Where's the rest?"
"I think I threw it to a dog or something," Voldemort said absently.
Harry stared at Dumbledore's left hand and right eye. He grinned.
The fight ended three days before Hogwarts was supposed to open. It had been awfully anticlimactic. The Ministry had fallen to the sick sweets of promises Lucius had lulled into the Minister and the actions of England's Wizarding World was more or less controlled by Voldemort and his second-in command.
In the same day Dumbledore had lost his life. He had begged for it pathetically. Voldemort had laughed at the stupidity of the man but as he promised Harry he didn't mention a word where the teen was. He had turned his wand towards the old man and killed him. So simple. He wondered why it hadn't worked earlier. Or perhaps the absence of the person supposed to save them had weakened even the mind of the great Albus Dumbledore.
There was chatting and cheering around him, but he wasn't really focusing until a wine glass was thrust into his face. He looked up to see Harry with the mask on. Even now he wouldn't take it off. Voldemort wondered if he would ever let anyone beyond himself, Lucius and Severus know who he really was.
He took the glass and Harry sat down in his lap.
"Isn't this very public even for you?" he murmured.
"We just won," Harry replied and kissed his cheek. "I think we're allowed to celebrate."
"Your friends are dead. The Order is dead. The world will change, and you don't mind?"
"Evil is born within us," Harry whispered into his ear and Voldemort shuddered at that. "It is not what's around us that shapes us but the deepest core of our souls decides who we will turn out to be. Evil is born in here." He touched Voldemort's chest, then his own. "All we have to do is to adjust. Not once have I ever cared for the fate of the Light. Not once will I care. I have never been naïve. I have only been too cowardly to embrace my darkness."
"You sound very philosophic," the Dark Lord murmured, nipping at his neck. "Any reason why?"
"I just wanted to make it clear how I see it," Harry mumbled. "Evil is born within us, Voldemort. People like us will never care for anything but our own gain."
"What about love, Harry?" Voldemort whispered. "Does love exist for monsters like us, my dear?"
Harry moved back. He looked around. No one was watching. He removed the mask, his hair hiding his face from any curious onlookers and he leaned closer.
"My heart beats fast at the very sight of you," he said. "I begin to tremble with need when you touch me. When you are gone my body aches for your heat. How is that not love?"
Voldemort smiled, and kissed him deeply.
Evil is truly born within them.
But along with it is love as well.
It may come out a little twisted in the end, but Voldemort didn't care.
If their love wasn't twisted, it wouldn't be their love.
Finished! I just finished writing it tonight so it may have errors in it, I've tried checking it over but I'm not sure I got rid of them all. I hope you enjoyed reading it anyway!
Until another time,