Disclaimer: Not mine.
Just correcting some mistakes my beloved beta pointed out for me.
Thanks to the great angelhitomie for being my wonderful beta for this story, if not for her hard work this thing would have been filled with mistakes and unreadable.
It was the repeatedly sound of something tapping against a window that penetrated his mist filled brain and brought Harry to awareness.
Grumbling, Harry most of all wanted to ignore the disturbance until it went away so he could go back to sleep, but from the lack of other sounds he guessed that there was no one around, meaning that he would have to deal with the source if he wanted peace.
Opening his eyes seemed to be a much bigger task than usual, but after managing it, Harry found himself staring up at a familiar white ceiling. Well, it explained the smell of clean lines, streak and the barest hint of disinfectant, all something which could be connected to the Hospital Wing.
Unless this was another illusion, it had to mean that Tiresias had kept his word and let him out of the Veil.
Harry wanted to jump around, perhaps even make a small victory dance. But with how his limbs felt like they had been turned into lead, he could tell that it was a very bad idea. He would probably end up breaking something so he would have to stay longer in this place than he already had.
Even if he had to crawl out in broad daylight, Harry was determined that he would get away.
Thoughts of flight were temporary postponed in favour of finding out what had woken him in the first place. The tapping noise had yet to pause and Harry's gaze fell to his right. Light from the full moon illuminated the room, which indeed looked like the Hospital Wing. A big bird like shaped figure was on the other side of the glass, clearly getting impatient.
Harry blinked slowly. With no one else around he would have to do it.
He sat up, absently noting the twinges of pain that came from most of his body at the motion. And he was thirsty, his mouth was dry and his tongue stuck uncomfortably to the roof of his mouth. How long had he been out for? With how he felt it had to be at least some days to give his body time to recuperate somewhat, probably longer seeing as there was no one around.
Or perhaps their loss had been so great that they could not spare people for that.
Actually getting out of the bed, Harry swore he felt something tingle as he pushed off the bed, and walking over to the window proved to be a bigger effort than Harry had expected. He had to pause several times on the short tour and nearly pulled something down with him more times than he could bother to count.
But he made it there, having to rest his forehead against the cool glass before he opened the window.
The blue and yellow coloured ara swept inside, narrowly missing hitting Harry with one of its wings before settling down on one of the bed's footboard, clicking its beak at him as it stuck forth its leg. "For me?" He couldn't think of who would be writing to him and use that kind of bird, other than Draco, whom would do it simply to show that he could, but judging by the glare the bird gave him, Harry would say that it was a yes. "Okay, just, don't bite my fingers off or something." With how sharp its beak looked it certainly wasn't an unfounded fear.
But the bird did not move before Harry had freed it from the letter secured to its leg. Once it was free, the bird screeched, flapping its wings once and flew out of the window, apparently the sender was not expecting any answer.
Turning the letter in his hands provided him with no hint of whom it was from. The fact that he had yet to kneel over proved that it at least had no curse cast on the outside, and it hadn't been soaked in any fast acting poison. All which was something positive in Harry's personal opinion.
He got no further in his investigation of the letter as the door to the Hospital Wing was slammed open. Harry twisted, turning halfway away from the window with a frown. Didn't people understand that this was a place of healing? They couldn't just come barging in as they pleased, unless it was a case of emergency, in that case they might be excused.
He slipped the letter inside the sleeve of the pyjamas he was wearing, opting for reading it once he was alone.
"You are the most unlucky, suicidal, idiotic person on this whole earth I have ever had the displeasure of meeting." Harry was caught up in confusion at the sudden onslaught of angry words he was bombarded with. "What do you think you are doing out of bed when you have only just woken up? Are you trying to get yourself into coma again?"
He was swept off the floor and cradled to a body which seemed much warmer than his own. His initial protest of the manhandling was pushed aside in favour of snuggling closer to the heat source. Merlin, he hadn't realised how cold he had been before now.
Suddenly back on the bed he had awoken in, and away from the nice heat, much to Harry's displeasure, the seer tried to figure out how he had ended there so fast. But the bed was still warm and Harry found the bedding securely wrapped around him, almost as if the other thought it would keep him from leaving. "How many did we lose?" Parseltongue was a lot easier on his throat than normal words would have been but Voldemort must still have noticed something because Harry found a glass with a straw in front of him.
Latching onto the straw Harry eagerly sucked, the cool water felt absolutely wonderful to his dry mouth and throat, and he bemoaned his loss when the still half-full glass was pulled away from him. "Enough, or you will make yourself sick." Harry very much wanted to protest. The water had made him feel loads better, surely a little more could do no harm, though his damnable logic agreed with Voldemort's statement. Instead of voicing his opinion, Harry focused on more important matters. "Who died?"
Voldemort was obliviously still alive, standing in his nightgown in front of him, but what about everybody else?
But what about Severus and Draco? The Lestranges? Draco's parents? Had any of the werewolves survived after Harry had given them the slip? What about Neville, had he managed to get away in the midst of everything.
Harry really hoped that someone had gotten Dumbledore. If the man had managed to get away, Harry would find a way to hunt him down himself.
"Eighty five people, nine werewolves and one snake died in what the newspapers have aptly named 'The Great Battle of the Ministry'" A light shone into his eyes, making Harry blink rapidly and then it was gone again. "Your pupils are normal." The wand tapped against his forehead, producing a white spark Harry had absolutely no idea of what it was for, but by the look of Voldemort's face it wasn't something bad, he hoped. "And they are all alive."
"So, they are fine?" When Voldemort did not answer Harry sat up, ready to go look for himself so he could see despite his body's protests. After all, there was a great difference between alive and well. One such as Severus would chose death over losing feasibility in his hands.
He was pushed down and held in place far easier than Voldemort was ought to be able to. "Try not to run head into danger so soon after awakening." Voldemort chastised, as if he was speaking to a mere child.
"You could just answer my question. And since when has taking a walk become dangerous?" He snarked back, not feeling inclined to comply the silent demand. Why should he rest when he had just woken up? Sure he was tired and sore, but Harry could claim having dealt with worse.
"It is when you have spent over two months inside the Veil."
Harry was pretty sure that his shock showed on his face. "Two months." It certainly hadn't felt that long for him. "I missed my birthday!" That wasn't supposed to slip out.
"Of course you focus on something so trivial as a birthday. Do you not comprehend how lucky it is for you to be alive? Rita Skeeter got her hands on that titbit of information and decided to call you that Boy-Who-Lived in the article she wrote." Voldemort's tone told that he shared Harry's displeasure in the moniker.
But Skeeter and her lacking ability to be creative with names wasn't what was on Harry's mind right now. "But Severus had planned we should go travelling." He definitely wasn't whining but it was something the two of them had been planning for the last few years.
As seventeen years old he was supposed to be an adult and thus no longer in need of a guardian. Meaning that he wouldn't be able to stay in Hogwarts unless he continued as Severus' assistant, which Harry hadn't been against at all.
But Severus had reasoned that at that age Harry would need some form of independence. So they had had this trip planned, just the two of them travelling around the world with the excuse of hunting for potions ingredients that couldn't be bought on the marked. And if Harry decided that one of those places might be to his taste, well no one would question it if a squib suddenly disappeared, it wouldn't be the first time such a thing happened. And he would have been safer away from Great Britain with Dumbledore's crazy ideals.
Those last few months Harry had barely given the travel a thought. It had seemed so unimportant compared to everything else that had been happening all the time.
Did he even have to leave? It wasn't like his visions were a secret any longer, and Harry loathed the thought of leaving his one home permanently more than he had thought he possible could.
Fingers carted through his hair, making Harry relax back against the pillow. "If you truly long for seeing the world, I will be taking you. From what I have heard there is a beach in Tahiti that is quite popular amongst both Muggles and wizards."
"We can't!" Harry nearly head butted Voldemort as he sat up, wide-eyed. The Dark Lord did not seem to appreciate Harry's inability to stay still. "Tell me, my little seer, what have you seen?"
Harry opened his mouth to answer, only to close it again. He repeated the motion a few times before frowning. "I'm not sure. I haven't seen anything, I think." The way Voldemort's eyes looked at him was far more chilling than it should be possible for a human to accomplish.
Harry very much wanted to do just that, only, he himself wasn't sure how he should do so without causing Voldemort to flip, for a lack of better words. "I had to pay to get out of the Veil. You see normally people die the moment they enter the Veil, leaving only their souls behind which makes this really creepy mist. But because I apparently am a special case, I didn't, so after talking with Black and seeing my parents die again I got to meet the white Dementor." At this point Harry had to breathe unless he wanted to pass out from the lack of oxygen to his brain.
Seeing Voldemort's sceptical expression to what he had already told only convinced Harry to hurry on. "He didn't want to let me get back, kept saying that I wouldn't be able to pay the price he demanded." The fingers in his hair clenched but Harry wisely didn't comment on it. "But when I let it out that I am a seer, he changed his tune."
"What was his price?"
Harry wet his lips. His throat was starting to feel dry again but he had a feeling that he better get over with this part of his story. "I offered my visions in return for me being allowed to pass through. He took them."
Actually feeling Voldemort's magic making the air around them crackle with electricity had Harry hurrying on. If Voldemort thought that he had lost his visions forever, would he be thrown out? Harry preferred to think no, but he wasn't so sure about the answer to that as he would have liked to be. "Just those I have already had, and he said that I would get more at some point so it's not like there is any damage done."
It didn't exactly calm Voldemort down the way Harry had hoped for, but at least nothing was exploding, which was a big plus in Harry's opinion. The hand hadn't yet let go of him and if it continued like this, Harry was sure that he would end up with a bald spot. Nothing a potion or two couldn't fix, but seriously it seemed like people intended to make his hair much shorter than Harry preferred it.
"So if you are unsure whether you have had a vision, what makes you so against going to the beach?"
"I don't know, but I aren't going to any sunny beach, Tahiti or not. Especially not if there are pink bath suits." Deciding that the subject was over, Harry untangled Voldemort's fingers from his hair. His scalp was somewhat sore but otherwise it was of no worry. "So, what happened to Dumbledore?" The fact that the man had pushed him through the Veil, accidentally or not, didn't earn him any points in Harry's book.
"He has been properly dealt with and will not be a problem any longer." The way Voldemort said it left no room for argument.
"But how-" Hot lips pressed against his lips, cutting Harry off before he could finish his sentence.
The tongue swept over his lips before Voldemort pulled back, looking too satisfied with himself for Harry's liking. "That was dirty playing!" He protested, though the kiss had been nice, albeit too short for his liking.
"It seems like the easiest way to keep you quiet so you do not disturb the other patient." The thought of someone else being in there with them had Harry biting back a humiliating yelp when he found himself pinned to the bed by a body, he was pretty sure Voldemort's crinkled in amusement.
"Bastard." He hissed. "Don't do anything where someone can stumble onto us!"
"Don't worry, he is asleep." Voldemort bent his head and buried his nose in Harry's neck. The seer tried to wiggle out from under Voldemort. Despite the other's reassurance, it didn't mean that the other would not wake up, or someone could walk in and see them.
He didn't get anywhere before sure hands had found his wrists and pinned his hands to the mattress, all without Voldemort having to lift his face from Harry's neck. Harry was pretty sure that he wasn't imagining the way Voldemort was sniffing him. Either the man had turned into a werewolf while Harry had been knocked out, or Voldemort had a kink he hadn't shared before now.
Teeth brushed over his skin and Harry went limp, interested in seeing how far Voldemort would go with this, there was a chance that he was only doing this to keep Harry silent as he had already said. "Yo-you are an absolute bastard, you know that?" Voldemort pulled back, admiring the teeth marks he had left on Harry's neck, free for all to see.
"I have been told so, yes." Voldemort moved down to place open mouthed kisses on Harry's neck. Harry could feel the small hair on his neck shifting, all too aware of the heat of Voldemort's breath against his skin.
A rustle and then they were both naked, but the air in the Hospital Wing was warm enough that it did not bother Harry.
Voldemort shifted, moving down to where Harry's collarbones met before he was onto his knees and hands over Harry.
Harry propped himself up against the pillow behind him and kissed Voldemort, annoyed and disappointed when he was pushed down to lie on his back. But his cock jumped and swelled slightly with the look Voldemort was giving him.
"Fuck." Harry choked, forgetting all about Parseltongue. His hands reached up and he sunk his nails into Voldemort's shoulders. He wanted to show Voldemort that he wasn't the only one participating in this.
Harry moved one hand to run it through Voldemort's hair. He wasn't about to see what happened if he grabbed it the same way his own had been.
A hand closed around his cock, moving slowly, and Harry peeled an eye open, peering up at Voldemort while wondering when he had closed his eyes.
Voldemort's eyes were red and heavy-lidded. His cheeks were flushed, somehow making him look more human than he normally did.
The handjob was good, but not enough to distract Harry when there was a prodding at his asshole. "Why not use magic?" It was the way Voldemort usually went, and right now Harry simply wanted the other inside him. He wanted to know that Voldemort was really there and it couldn't go fast enough for that to happen.
"I want it this way." Voldemort had moved downward and nipped Harry's inner thigh with his teeth since both of his hands were occupied.
Harry forgot all about keeping his voice down when Voldemort removed both hands, only to grab him by the hips and turn Harry around so he was on hands and knees on the mattress, his arse held high. "A little warning would be nice." Harry glanced around, trying to make sure that no one had noticed the noise they made.
Voldemort didn't reply, instead Harry felt a warm tongue lick and prod his hole.
Harry groaned despite his best efforts to keep quiet when his legs muscles seemed to turn into jelly at Voldemort's actions. His face was burning as he burrowed it into his arm, determined not to let anyone see how red it had became. "It's dirty." He mumbled a protest, not sure whether he was being heard or not.
"You smell clean." Voldemort hissed back without moving away, and he sounded way too pleased with himself, as if he was well aware of the pleasure he was bringing Harry.
"It is because they use spells on unconscious patients so the Healers have less work to do." Harry tried to keep his voice normal even as Voldemort licked his quivering hole.
Voldemort hummed, the vibrations sending ripples through Harry, not helping his cock in the least.
"F-fuck!" His fingers were kneading the sheet beneath him, his legs shivering. Harry tried to gather his wits enough to reach down and jerk himself off. With how much attention Voldemort was lamenting his arse with, it wasn't like the other would notice what he was doing. As since Voldemort wouldn't let Harry touch him, he might as well use his hands on himself.
Voldemort pulled away and Harry let out a strangled noise even he didn't know what it was supposed to be. If Voldemort dared to laugh at him for it, Harry would be kicking his arse, magic or no.
But as he strained to look over his shoulder, Harry noticed that Voldemort didn't look amused. Harry's hand was pushed away from his cock, something he wasn't happy about. But as he felt a cool and wet finger prod his hole Harry understood why Voldemort had pulled away when he did.
The man had made no effort to warm whatever he was using as lube, but he was slow and careful as he prepared Harry. But the coolness was good to, it helped damping his arousal so Harry wouldn't be coming too soon. It hit him that it might be Voldemort's reason for doing it this way.
There were two fingers inside now, scissoring and stretching him, and the lube had warmed up slightly as to match his own temperature, before Voldemort added another finger, making Harry shudder and clench in discomfort.
"You don't have to be so cautious. I am not going to break." Harry wasn't sure how much he believed in his own words. If Voldemort continued this treatment, he might actually break, one way or another.
"Do I look like I am not enjoying this?" Voldemort's voice was even, but Harry knew him well enough to hear the undertone of arousal, the hint that Voldemort was not entirely unaffected by this.
"I'm just let-" Harry gasped when Voldemort twisted his fingers, brushing against his prostate. "letting you know." The seer painted, trying to not lose himself in the pleasure the continually brushing against the little bundle of nerves brought him.
The fingers were pulled out, leaving Harry feeling unexpectedly bereft.
With a small grunt Voldemort slipped inside, pushing halfway in in one smooth motion.
"Fuck!" Harry gasped. The size difference was noticeable, and damn it has been too long since he has been doing any of this kind of activity. Voldemort wasn't moving, and Harry couldn't decide if the man was being gentle with him or was set on torturing him. "I'm fine, go ahead."
Voldemort slit the rest of the way in, holding him securely so Harry had no way to go even if he had wanted to. Voldemort shifted and held Harry securely in place as he moved. Harry whined, his fingers sinking into the sheet beneath him as he needed to do something with his hands.
The pain was lessening, paling in comparison to the pleasure.
At one point Voldemort buried his face in the nape of Harry's neck, and Harry could feel the other's breath wash over his sweat coated skin in small grunt. Voldemort slammed into him, biting down on Harry's neck at the same time, to the point where Harry was quite sure that blood was being drawn.
Not that he cared, his own orgasm rocked through him, he didn't bother to worry about keeping silent any longer, letting out a throttled cry.
Voldemort held onto him through it.
Harry crumbles in his hold, unable to keep himself up. His is breathing heavy, trying to keep his eyes from closing. He shouldn't feel so exhausted after only one round, but perhaps it is not so big a surprise after having slept, being unconscious, whatever he had been doing for the last few months. "You haven't turned werewolf on me suddenly, or is it vampire with how fascinating you finds my neck?" Harry chuckles at his own little joke.
"Go to sleep, you need the rest." Harry really wanted to protest, how can he sleep when there are so much else he wanted to know and do?
And yet he found himself slipping into obliviousness without him realising it before it had already happened.
"So, I heard that they execute Pettigrew today." Harry slipped into the chair by the bed, making himself comfortable. The Healer had only just left the room and Harry had used the opportunity to go over to the bed in the other end of the room.
Severus showed no sign of hearing anything of what he had said, just like every other time Harry had sneaked over to talk with the man.
They still hadn't worked out what curse had taken down Severus, to ensure that the man would not suffer from it he was kept in an artificial coma. "Neville is doing well, in case you're wondering. Last thing I heard is that he is somewhere in Greece looking for Gulping Plumpy." He leaned closer with a conspiring look. "If you ask me, then I think he's hot on Luna Lovegood, you should read some of the things he writes about her." When Severus showed no reaction to having heard him, Harry pulled back, doing his best to hide his disappointment.
By some stroke of luck Voldemort hadn't seen the letter Harry had received, or the three others that had followed after, and neither had the Healer that had come to check him out the next morning. But it had been hilarious to watch Voldemort be chewed out for engaging Harry in exercises he hadn't been cleared for. Well, later he had seen the funny in it, at that time Harry had been too red in the head to actually find it amusing. "I don't think he has to worry about Voldemort as long as he stays out of Great Britain."
Sighing Harry leaned back in the chair and let his gaze wander to the window. From here he had a clear view of the Forbidden Forest. Its leaves were turning red, yellow and every nuance in between as a sign that the fall was going strong.
"I finally figured out who Tiresias is." He had spent hours holed up in the library, either Hogwarts' or Voldemort's private one, searching for an answer. He would probably have forgotten more meals than he already had, if not Draco or Voldemort had come and dragged him away from the books. "For such a famous guy, there isn't much to be found about him. I mean, how many can claim to be blinded and be given the Sight from a god in return?" He exclaimed, temporary forgetting that he wasn't supposed to be in here and how much trouble he would be if someone found him in there, again.
Smiling to himself Harry turned back to Severus. "I don't know how he ended inside the Veil, but since he promised that we will be seeing each other again, I guess that I can ask him then."
Carefully he grabbed one of Severus' pale, long fingered hands and held it in between two of his own. "Wake up soon, Severus; I'll be waiting here for you however long it takes for you to return."
Deep in thoughts the seer didn't notice as Voldemort pulled away from the doorway. He had been coming to bring Harry with him for lunch, but it seemed like he would have the house-elves preparing an early dinner instead.
Making his way down the corridor, Voldemort swore to make sure that Harry would be watched all time, at least until his Potions master had been brought back to awakens. If not, Harry might run of to somewhere and put himself into danger because he thought he might have a chance of finding the cure.
Satisfied the Dark Lord headed for their private quarters. He had a dinner date to plan for.
So, this is the end of Little seer, I want to thank all of you for taking the time to read this and I hope you enjoyed it just as much as I did.
Now, I leave on Sunday for New York, with a long flight forth and back I should have plenty of time to write something new. Perhaps a new story will be up in a few weeks.