So far, only Linael here. Az'rael disappeared, looking for the missing plot of Lime Light(final fantasy 7)…..



He doesn't want this…! What IS going on…!

First, he's tagged as a hero for something he can't recall, then, accused as a liar and an attention seeker, a cheater, and. . . . . . and so many more he ran out of mental quill and paper to write on. . . !

Merlin, Lady Fate is sure a bitch. . . Now, this. . .

Getting caught by Death Eaters on his way back to his relatives' house fron an errand from the local grocer. . .

To be frank, he's wondering when it'll happen, not IF it'll happen. . . See, he's always right about this things…!

'At least, no one's hurt.'

But the 'heroic' thought did nothing to pacify his rampaging thoughts, it resembled a dozen tornado,twisting and turning inside his head.

'Are they going to torture me?. . . Cruciatus, perhaps?. . . He's very fond of that spell, I noticed.' The dry tone of his mind never struck him unusual. He's Harry-Flipping-Boy-Won't-Die-Potter, who was labeled insane one-time-or-another. 'Concerning of spell, I thought the thrice damned Order is watching me,' he mentally grumbled, 'As I thought, they really think that it's 'safe' there in 'muggle' world.' And he snorted aloud at this idea. The Death Eater watching/guarding him, merely rised a left brow, though Harry himself can't see it.

'Why am I being held up in a room anyway?' he wondered next. 'Perhaps it's Voldie's style to keep people at room service first before, well, what does he do to people before he curses them anyway?,' and that particular question made Harry regret not watching the whole shows of Tom Marvolo Riddle a.k.a. Lord Voldemorth Torture Channel Series. He sighed again. What would the Old-Flaming-Purple-Chicken think of him if he learned that Harry- his 'precious boy-who-lived', is looking forward to the enemy's torture airings? Only he didn't dare watch and in the process. Commit it into his memory bank because the Albus-That-Thrice-Damned-Purple-Puke-Colored-Patron-of-Light-w/-Too-Many-Middle-Names-Dumbledore, is a blasted legilimiens and he can't risk being caught in his dratted mind games. Look what happened to Sirius. And the many others who, after living out their usefulness, is discarded or worse- assasinated. By who, you might ask. . . Why don't you ask the General Fried Chicken. But then again, you can't say he'll tell you the truth anyway. He's a twisted bastard, more so than the Dark Lord. Yes, you read it right. MORE SO. All in caps lock.

Harry sighed, again yes, *he noticed he's been doing that a lot of time as of late,anyway-* and wondered if they're looking for him.

Would they guess he's been caught by the dark side? Answer: Yes.

Would they think he's being tortured? Answer: Yes. They lack imagination, that's for sure.

What are they doing right this moment? Answer: Seeing it's been a week since he got caught, Remus is probably itching to skewer all of them with a blunt and rusty teaspoon.

'Oh, Remy, how come they don't see that you are not buying their alibi's. Then again, you're a werewolf, and wizardly magic is automatically nulled by your body. He he he, Albus is certain you are under his thumb and you are REALLY good in pretending, eh. Thanks for a few advice about the coot.'

Now, where is he? Answer: He's in the Slytherin Manor. Merlin, and Albus thought the Dark Lord is in the Riddle Manor…! What a laugh….!

Would they rescue him? Answer: No. For Severus is a spy, and a spy for dark. And he wouldn't tell. How come he wasn't getting arrested? Well, he's too valuable. But that's another story. And Albus is somewhat, a bit loony this past few years. And that's an unmistakable fact.

Really, this life sucks for all the-

"Is my guest having problems in his assigned quarters..?"

-and Harry promptly chocked on his mental litany.

Blinking in annoyance, he glared ,and no, you didn't read wrong, glared, rather evilly at the regal being in his 'assigned quarters'. The Death Eater behind the Dark Lord stared wide-eyed at the Boy-Who-Lived-With-Apparently-A-Huge-Death-Wish. With a wave of an elegant hand, which he nearly missed, he quickly bowed and went out of the room.

Lord Voldemorth entered the room with a bit a question inside his head. Apparently, the abducted Hero of the Wizarding World didn't even caused single headache to his guards, which baffled everyone, including him. So he decided to talk to the boy, no, nearly a man now. If he's acting, well, how do call his attitude anyway?, reasonably insane?- yes- reasonably insane calmness, maybe he can convince him of the truth behind the prophesy. . . Annoying but always right if you manage to really have a right inkling of what it means prophesy.

Entering the room had been another annoying necessity because, who, who, WHO! Doesn't notice the Powerful Dark Lord entering their roomspace! Well, who says this young man is normal anyway. . . And he inwardly sighed. . .

After the shock wore off, Harry only stared dispassionately at the newly arrived Dark Lord and pondered inside his head.

'He's actually more handsome than in the visions.' And frowned,

'And he scatters the rumours that he's a bald and uglier than thou snakeman? Well, can't blame him. . . Bellatrix Lestrange is evil enough with her continues praise and battling eyelashes. . .'

Both didn't say anything for a while, silently measuring each other.

To say that Voldemorth is surprised by the backbone the young man is showing now, is an understatement of the century. But this young man is exactly what he want. Talking to the Hero will not be so bad if he kept like this for, approximately, ten minutes.

Seating down on the elegant velvet recliner at the left side of the window, he eyed the Hero straight in the eye and started talking.

"You kind of surprised me, Potter, for not throwing tantrums when you woke up here." And he gestured the room in an off-handed manner.

Blinking first, Harry drawled, "I'm actually wondering when you'll succeed."

Narrowing his eyes, the Dark Lord smirked, "Wondering? So, you actually know you don't stand a chance against me. . ."

And Harry smiled a little drily, "With the way the old coot is manipulating everything, it's a wonder the Wizarding World still exists. But no, I know I don't stand a chance."

And without much flair, the man asked straight to the point, "What do you make out of the prophesy?"

Which stumped the Savior. 'Why a sudden change of subject?'

Blinking at him, he turned inward himself, suddenly thinking about it. He knows it's foolish to let your guard down in front of the enemy, even a hopitable one, but he didn't heed the tiny voice of logic, which, not really surprising, sounded very much like Mad-Eye-Moody, for if the man wanted him dead, he'd done it already. He's jolted back to reality when the smooth voice snatched his attention.

"Especially the last line."

With furrowed brows, the line flashed inside his head-

For neither can live whilst the other survives. . . .

For neither can live whilst the other survives. . . .

For neither can live whilst the other survives. . . .

Eyeing the man with a question in his eyes, Voldemorth simply handed him out a book. Looking down at the offered material, he looked back at the tall and elegant man now standing erect, right hand holding out the old, tattered but obviously well-cared book, with it's silver title barely visible in the faded black leather cover. Prophesy, the title itself is somewhat lame, in his eyes anyway.

As if in a dream, he reached out to hold it and when he did, the man, no, Lord Voldemorth, retreated and went out of the room, with his last voice echoing in the room,

"When you've drawn your own conclusion,made up your mind and accepted what I'm offering, you'll know where to find me."

And like that the door closed behind him, leaving the sixteen-year-old wondering, curious yet at the same time, frightened.

With something akin to trepidation, Harry slowly opened the book, even though his senses are screaming with 'it might be a danger!' or something like that, but he ignored it in favor of the book now laying in his lap, the yellowed paper showing the signs of years, possibly centuries, of existence in this plane. And proceeded to read the whole book in that night.

Morning arrived and we can see the Savior sitting at the same place last night, eyes looking at everywhere yet nowhere at once, thinking of how '-that ALBUS-DAMNED-SORRY-EXCUSE-OF-A-MANIPULATOR-DUMBLEDORE-' painted his life on how he sees fit. Eyes narrowed, mind made up, he walked to the door of the room and murmured,

"Is there anyone out there?"

A deep voice answered, opening the door, and Harry can't help but think that the Dark Lord is just another manipulator like the old coot.

'But he wanted you to make your own decisions. That's why he showed you the book, remember?'

"The Dark Lord wanted you to meet him in his study, Mr. Potter. Follow me." and Harry walked out of the room towards his chosen future, the echo of the book's information revertebrating inside his head.

"Neither can live while the other survives,

For survival is not living,

And life of the One without the Other-

Is simply existing.

And without the Other,

The One cannot survive. . .

For the One's life is tied with the Other,

And the Other's breath is life of the One. . .

For they are One, the Same.

The Life and the Love of each other.

They are the Twin Souls-

The Children of Magic-

The Balance of Her Creation-

The Dark and the Light of Her Power-

Her very own Chosen Ones. . . . . .

For the future of Her Blessed. . . "

And now, lying on his dominant's bed, Harry smiled a bit, with the after glow of the lovemaking still attached to him. He gently traced a little circles on his Mate's chest, his head tucked securely between Rolo's shoulder and chin.

"Maybe my angel would like to share his thoughts?"

The low, sexy voice pulled him out of his musings. Looking up a bit to see his Rolo watching him with a love he never thought he'll see on his face, he smiled fully and replied in a slightly rough voice, a bit raw after all the screaming he did just moments before,

"I'm thinking of what Remus is doing right now."

And his mate simply snorted, elegantly I might add, saying,

"Probably trying to manipulate Severus out of his dungeons."

And Harry merely raised his brow.

Chuckling a bit, Rolo, (for he hated his first name and Lord Voldemorth is a mouthful, not to mention that this is his mate we're talking about, who adored him and he adored in return, and it wouldn't do for him to call him that now, yes? Marvolo is still a mouthful according to his mate, so Harry decided to call him Rolo, a shortened version of it.) turned to his side, wathing his now, six-months pregnant mate.

Seeing the content look at his deeply sated mate, Rolo pulled Harry closer to him. Harry is only too happy to oblige.

But before he drifted off to sleep, Harry asked,

"Now that the Wizarding World is back on it's glory, what are we going to do?"

Blinking to himself, the Prime Minister smiled slightly, and answered seductively,

"Why my love, being pregnant not enough for you? We have to raise the twins, remember?"

And got a slap on the chest for his words.

Smiling, he hugged his submissive to his chest protectively, his last thoughts-

'Lucius better seduced that Sirius now or else-'



I can't believe I wrote it just out of my head…!

It just, appeared…

No idea where it came from…..

About the story Lime Light, my alter-ego, who writes it, disappeared… He said when he comes back, it's going to be okay….

So for now, I'm sorry for the non-continuation of that one. ….



If you want me to post the *coughs* S*xScene, just send me a request...