Christmas Cheer, or Something Like That

Summary: Harry Potter was never Light, and he made sure that everyone knew that pretty quickly. See full warnings and pairings.

Pairing/s: VoldemortHarry

Warnings: Slash, rather extreme Light-bashing, kind of evil!Harry, kind of nice-ish!Voldemort, characters acting a bit OOC, swearing, mentions of violence and gore and so forth.

Disclaimers: I don't own Harry Potter, nor do I make any money writing fanfiction.


Another VoldemortHarry-shot! I just can't help it.



Christmas was lurking just around the corner. Hogwarts and her grounds had been covered with a beautiful layer of powdery snow, making the prefect Christmas card, if one felt inclined to send a Christmas card with a bloody huge castle on it. Covered in snow. That was the main thing, really.

Students milled about, some cheerful, some careful. There was really nothing to be nervous about, but some of the students still looked over their shoulders, peering into deep shadows, as if expecting something would be there. Something like the Dark Lord Voldemort, but had they taken a moment to think, they would realize the man had far better things to do than lurk in corners and scare students half to death.

He had a Ministry to run, after all. Well, technically Lucius Malfoy was the Minister of Magic, but he took advice from Lord Voldemort and let the man know everything that happened in the Ministry. He did come around to Hogwarts now and then, spending a few days or a week there, but the headmaster, Severus Snape, was always ready.

Severus Snape was much better as a headmaster than as a teacher. Now when he didn't have to spend every day teaching dunderheads (also known as students, and the occasional student's parents when they had complained about the bad grades he gave their children) he was rather pleasant. Not that he wasn't the demented bat of the dungeons according to most of Gryffindor but honestly? They were just desperate.

The Light, once led by Albus Dumbledore, had placed all their hopes in a single boy, Harry James Potter. He was their hero. Their Light. He was the one who would save them all by fighting a man well more experienced in battle than him, older and therefore wiser, and not shockingly, a hell of a lot stronger. Well, not shockingly to Harry at least.

Good thing then he had never been their Light. Before Hogwarts, he had lived with his aunt's family, never knowing magic existed. Did he accidently mention the word 'magic' or any word associated to that, he was always yelled at. If he aggravated his uncle Vernon enough, it would mean a fist or a meaty paw slapping so hard he almost fell over.

Coming to Hogwarts Harry had quickly learned what people expected of him. They saw him as an icon for the Light, but Harry couldn't remember the incident that made him so famous. Did they really believe a one-year old baby had defeated the Dark Lord of the century?

Well, yes they did and the Light people, Harry decided quickly, were completely bonkers. But he had learnt a thing or two living with the Dursleys, and kept a low profile by getting into Gryffindor and befriending obvious Light people, although his heart yearned to have a long, private talk with Draco Malfoy, the very child-icon of dark people.

Soon in his first year Harry realized some people, the teachers in particular, didn't see him at all. They saw his parents instead, and that annoyed him. He was his own person and he wanted to be acknowledged as such, not as the Boy-Who-Lived, or as James and Lily Potter's precious son.

To think the only one he liked was the man who insulted him the most. Severus Snape might have been a bit unfair, since all Harry shared with his father was his blood and looks, hardly his personality, but Snape didn't coddle with Harry either. If he did an adequate job of the potion, Snape would accept it (begrudgingly mind you, but he would).

Harry's first year wasn't peaceful though. Dumbledore, or as Harry were quick to name him; "The big Idiot", had brought something dangerous to school and his warning was just inviting people to investigate. He seemed particularly pleased when Harry had, accompanied by his side-kicks, the envious and jealous Ron Weasley and know-it-all Hermione Granger, who annoyed him to hell and back, gotten into the whole mess.

The Philosopher's Stone. Dumbledore may have thought he had destroyed that one, but it was there he had been sorely mistaken.

As stated, Harry had learnt a thing or two living with the Dursleys, and to him, his own life meant more than the life of others. So when he had faced Voldemort for the first time since he was a baby, one; he started laughing. Come on, the man was possessing the back of another man's head! Who wouldn't laugh at that sight?

Second; he offered the stone and his loyalty, as long as Voldemort didn't treat him like a lowlife, or an underling, or a dog. Mainly, Voldemort would see Harry as an equal, and then Harry wouldn't give a piss about the Light world, nor the Muggles.

Third; he started laughing again when seeing the look at Voldemort's face. Shock was probably not something one saw often on the Dark Lord's face, so Harry had fun.

Voldemort begrudgingly accepted. Dumbledore hadn't known it, but at the end of Harry's first year, he had gone from being the beacon of the Light to a Dark servant.

Well, that's what Voldemort had called him. Harry had kindly told him to stuff it and come up with a new name because there was no way he was a servant to anyone. He had been enough of a servant at the Dursleys.

Voldemort gained his body back during the summer before Harry's second year, and Harry had by then grown so sick of serving the Dursleys that he had aggravated Vernon on purpose. He just hadn't expected that Vernon would lash out that harshly.

When Voldemort had snuck through the wards and into the Dursley home, he had found a starved, twelve-year old Harry Potter with a broken arm, busted spleen and bruises everywhere. Hadn't the Dark Lord come when he did, Harry wasn't sure if he would have survived.

This brings us back to Christmas. Harry was a healthy seventeen-year old teenager almost skipping down the halls. He loved Christmas now. He had hated it as a child, when he could only watch as Dudley got present upon present.

Dudley couldn't get many presents now, where he was. Six feet under, after a lengthy and painful death caused by Harry two years ago. Fun times.

Gryffindors were wary of him. They were still Light, most of them, and seeing their supposed hero interact with the headmaster, a known Death Eater, was unnerving. Plus Harry had been re-sorted into Slytherin and was best friends with Draco Malfoy. And of course there were some other issues that made them glare at him, but Harry couldn't give a fuck. Draco was a much better friend than Ron or Hermione ever had been.

Speaking of the devil, Draco caught up with Harry and said:

"What the hell are you on?"

"Christmas cheers of dying babies!"

"… Is that a joke?"

"Of course it is. Isn't! Is, I mean!" Harry grinned at him. "I wouldn't kill babies, Draco, that's cruel."

"Could've fooled me," the blond muttered.

"Unless they were babies to someone I hated. Then I might make an exception."

"… I was just waiting for that. Seriously, why are you skipping? It's hardly Slytherin behaviour."

"Well, I wasn't a Slytherin from the start."

"Skipping isn't a very Gryffindorish trait either," Draco pointed out.

Harry grinned. "I'm special then."

"You are."

Some from Gryffindor sneered seeing the two of them walk down the hall, but when Harry lost his happy smile and stared coldly at them all, the students were quick to scurry off or keep their stares to themselves.

"I still want to know how the hell you can do that," Draco demanded.

"Voldemort taught me."

"Of course he did."

"Well, he really did! You should see him in action! I think he'll develop a spell that will let him kill people with his evil gaze."

Draco shuddered at Harry's happy smile, and then hurried up when Harry grabbed his arm. They still had time to get to class but both of them were at the top of each class they were in and had no intention of losing points or miss out on lessons.

Ron Weasley, Harry's former friend, was still at Hogwarts alongside his little sister Ginny. Hermione had gone into hiding once it became clear she was going to be an obstacle. In fourth year, during the Tri-wizard Tournament, she had tried and failed to curse Harry to death. The best she had managed was shooting him in the back with a spell that caused him to fly into a wall, losing consciousness. Before Hermione had time to do anything else, the headmaster had been alerted. She had fled with the help of the Weasley twins, who had told her every possible escape route they had found with the Marauder's Map.

A map which Harry now had. Of course he had found that out, and gotten it from the twins before they left school. Well, they hadn't exactly just handed it over. Once Harry got going with torturing George in front of Fred had that twin hurriedly handed it over before cradling his injured brother, glaring at Harry and screaming:

"What the hell happened to you, Potter?!"

Harry still remembered, clear as day, his reply:

"I have better self-preservation than you idiots. I was raised by the Dursleys after all. They're worse than the Dark Lord, I can tell you that."

So Harry had fun exploring the school with the map, that he knew belonged to his father and his friends. Sirius Black, far too Light, had been left in Azkaban, dying in the belief that Harry had been brainwashed. Lupin was a tad better, and was actually the History professor at the school. Everyone knew of his werewolf status but the new world Voldemort had slowly formed was more accepting. Harry and Lupin actually talked once in a while, careful to not mention families, as it would undoubtedly bring them both bad memories.

For now though, he and Draco were having their final Transfiguration lesson before the Christmas break. McGonagall was still the teacher, but she was suspected to try resurrecting Dumbledore's old Order of the Phoenix that fought against Voldemort the first time.

Dumbledore himself? Well, he was dead. He had been dead for years. Actually, he had died nearing the end of second year, at the hands of both Harry and Voldemort. Harry had aided Voldemort getting into the school through the Chamber of Secrets (which Harry had found wicked, if a bit wet), and under Dumbledore's nose. Voldemort had been in and out of the school for months by the time they cornered the old headmaster.

Dumbledore, who had up until that point thought Harry was his pawn to play, only to discover he was an ally to Voldemort. Dumbledore had then tried to kill Harry first, but the Avada Kedavra didn't reach its target. Voldemort had summoned Harry to him and with a perfectly executed spell, cut off Dumbledore's wand arm. Before the headmaster had a chance to go for his wand with his other arm, that one too was cut off.

The Elder Wand now belonged to Voldemort, and Dumbledore had been lying in a pool of his own blood as Voldemort slowly came closer.

"What now, old man?" he asked. "No more tricks?"

"Harry!" Dumbledore gasped. "He is… tricking you!"

"No, he's not," Harry replied. "He saved me."

"Voldemort is evil itself!"

"Well, I am too. You shouldn't have left me with the Dursleys. They're good for breeding new Dark Lords, you know. Their hate made me hate everything even more. It'll be fun… killing them slowly. Making sure they regret every day they wronged me."

It hadn't been the words of a twelve-year old. It was the words of one who had been forced to grow old too quickly. And possibly gone crazy in the process. Harry hadn't cared, and neither had Voldemort for that matter. The Dark Lord was already half-insane. Having a crazy ally was no news to him.

And so Dumbledore had been killed, and the world began anew. Subtle, yes, but surely. Hermione had of course fled because of her failed attempt at killing Harry but if she hadn't, she probably would've run anyway, because she was a Muggleborn who was loyal to the Light, and to the Muggle world.

Voldemort didn't want the Muggles to know about the magical world. He stated it was best both remained separated, each left alone. He kept up to date about what the Muggles did and invented, so that the magical world would be prepared should the Muggles find out about them and declare war.

Harry and Draco entered the Transfiguration classroom and McGonagall looked over at them with tense eyes. Harry didn't have much fondness left for his former head of house, not after she continued to agree with Dumbledore's ideas and decisions, but he found it a hassle to have different teachers. Voldemort said he would try to keep her until Harry graduated, but after that, who knew what the Dark Lord would do to her?

The lesson was quick and efficient, she was still a good teacher, and Harry soon skipped out the classroom with Draco, Theodore and Pansy following at a more sedate pace. Blaise was ahead of them, grinning back at the sight of Harry's obvious happy mood.

People had learned to like that. When Harry was angry or gloomy, they all felt the chills around him, and feared to meet his eyes. He had a temper to match with the Dark Lord.

No wonder they fit together so perfectly. Harry had been living with Voldemort ever since he truly defected and since Dumbledore was killed, but they had only moved on with their relationship these last few months. Voldemort had for once been patient in waiting for Harry's seventeenth birthday.

Harry himself? He did like the fact they were even closer, but just as long as he got to stay with Voldemort he was satisfied. The man might be a right horror when in a bad mood, and he still likes to torture people when he's stressed but he had never once lied to Harry. He had never tried to deceive or take advantage of him, like the Light had done.

As Transfiguration had been the last class of the day, they moved to the Great Hall. Ron and Ginny lurked around, glaring at them all. Harry ignored them, moved through the door and made a beeline for the Slytherin table.

"A word, Malfoy," Weasley ground out, his little sister stubbornly glaring at the blond.

"Draco?" Theodore said, glancing over at him first, then to Harry who was seating himself before looking around.

"It's fine."

Draco smirked at them both and as soon as they were alone, he leaned in closer and said:

"What's the matter, you two weasels? I thought you were used to the fact that you're nothing but dirt under his feet. Harry is ours now."

"You fuckers have destroyed him!" Ron snarled. "But we'll bring him back."

"I'd like to see you try, weasel. I'll laugh when the Dark Lord kills you for that."

Draco got free from Ron's grip but Ginny stepped up. He laughed out loud this time.

"You think he likes you?" he asked. "You're more delusional than your brother. Grow up… wait a minute. Don't grow up. That means you'll get kids, and the Weasley clan is big enough already, don't you think?"

She flamed as dark as her hair and Draco flipped them off, a Muggle gesture Harry had eagerly taught him, and moved into the hall. Harry moved to make room for him, looking after the two Weasleys, tracking their movements like a predator might stalk its prey. Draco sat down, glad he wasn't a Weasley. Or an enemy of Harry's anyway.

"What did they say?" Harry asked.

"Oh, the usual. We have destroyed you, but they'll bring you back. I assume to the Light path. And I think Ginny still thinks she can be your wife."

"Oh, ew, thanks," Harry groaned, "now I've lost my appetite."

"Don't be ridiculous, you're too thin," Pansy said. "Eat up. Or we'll be the ones punished by the lord for not feeding you."

"I am not an infant, nor a pet. If he thinks he can order you to feed me," Harry huffed, "he ain't getting anything."

"Not what I wanted to hear about you and the lord," Draco said. "Too much… information."

"Want me to go into details of our first time?"

"Merlin, please no, I'll never get the scene out of my head!"

"Oh, we'd be that hot?" Harry mused, grinning.

Draco wailed but as that happened fairly often when Harry truly got going in making Draco's hair turn grey, no one cared.


Harry hadn't quite expected this. Sure, Ron babbled a lot about bringing him back but Harry never actually thought the damn redheaded weasel and his stupid family would actually dare trying to do it.

As it was, he was not a happy fellow sitting in some underground room, being watched by the Weasley family along with the survivors of the original Order, as well as a few other people. McGonagall was there. The traitor. Severus had to find a replacement for her, because Harry was so killing her now.

"Mr Potter," she spoke.

"Shut your fucking mouth, you fucking cunt," he hissed. "Don't you fucking dare say my name with that stupid mouth of yours, I'll rip your cunting tongue out."

Swearing, as it were, was not something Harry normally did. Only when he was really, really, really annoyed and angry. Voldemort thought it was hilarious.

"Harry!" Molly, the stupidest of all stupid, thinking she was his mother or something, screamed. "What have they done to you, my poor boy?"

"Well, let's see… they gave me new clothes, nice food, new books, my own room, with a really nice bed and a wicked huge desk, I mean it, really, I feel like a freaking king sitting there… got side-tracked. What more? Oh yeah, friends, a new family, and while my bed is really comfortable I still prefer sleeping with my lover."

Ginny looked grief-stricken. Harry grimaced. He just wanted to go home for the Christmas holidays, and instead he had to look at these fucking faces. He would blast them off the face of the earth, he swore to everything he knew he would. Or Voldemort would. They could do it together. And then have really hot sex… side-tracked. Again.

Moody, one would think he would be smarter, limped closer.

"Don't you worry, Potter, we'll soon have you back to normal."

"I am fucking normal, you stupid git, you're the ones with the delusion that I'm some sort of hero that will magically-oof!"

His jaw was grabbed, forced open and a potion poured down his throat. To prevent from getting it into his lungs, Harry had to swallow. Then he was knocked out.


Harry woke up, disoriented, and realized quite quickly that it was not a naked Voldemort next to him in bed. It was… oh dear Merlin in heaven, or wherever, it was Ginny Weasley. Harry felt like vomiting. Obviously they thought whatever potion they had poured down his throat would make him the way they wanted him.

Oh well… he might as well… Harry closed his eyes and tasted the potion still lingering on his tongue. He had been made immune to all known potions that would in any way manipulate a person's mind or thoughts.

This one was a mind potion, and he wondered exactly how he was supposed to act.

"Morning, sweetie."

Oh dear god no, anything but that. Ginny pressed her naked body against him and Harry took a deep breath.

"Oh, morning. Is it morning already?"

His skills at faking obliviousness and being a general sweetheart still amazed him, as Ginny didn't suspect a thing.

Dressing (oh, he liked red just fine but he preferred it to be blood, not hideous bright red robes that clashed with just about everything in the entire world) Harry took a moment in the bathroom to close his eyes and open the link he shared with Voldemort. Wide open, in fact, and just a moment later Voldemort in all his might crashed into Harry's head.

Harry was pulled into his mind, and into Voldemort's arms. He hugged back tightly and breathed his lover in. The smell wasn't quite the same, not as strong, but it was a comfort nonetheless.

"Where are you?" Voldemort demanded to know.

"I don't know," he admitted. "But the Order's got me, and they apparently think I'm under a mind potion. I woke up next to Ginny Weasley. She was naked! I'll be traumatized for life!"

"Naked?" Voldemort said dangerously. "They… they…" A vein ticked on his forehead.

"Yes, they put a naked, underage teenage traitor girl next to your lover. Comfort me. I may never recover from this. She called me sweetie. I feel like dying."

Voldemort kissed him. Harry melted into the kiss and moaned. That was… nice. More than nice. He was drowsy by the time the Dark Lord stopped.

"Let me tag along," Voldemort said. "To see where they are keeping you. We'll slaughter them."

"Tell Severus to find a new teacher in Transfiguration. McGonagall stepped on my last nerve, helping those weasels to kidnap me."

"With pleasure."

Then Harry was back in the bathroom. He walked out, very aware of the warm presence in his head that was Voldemort, and had to hide his disgust as Ginny clung onto him.

"Harry!" Molly said happily. "Breakfast?"

"I'm starving," Harry said. Voldemort growled in his mind:

'If they as much put a drop of something potion-like in that food, I'll find a way to kill them twice.'

Harry stared down at the food, almost nodding before realizing what he was about to do, and kept his head still at the last moment. He started to eat, or rather, pretend to eat. Ron smiled smugly across the table, and only now did Harry see Hermione. She was staring at him with smug superiority and it took all he was to not lunge over the table and strangle her to death.

"Where are my things?" he asked in an absent tone, fully well knowing Draco had taken his trunk earlier, on the train, before all this shit happened.

"Oh, I think they got lost," Molly said. "Don't you worry; we got a few spare clothes for you. Isn't that robe wonderful?"

"Yeah, it's nice."

'Where the bloody hell are they? Is it underground?'

'Judging by the dampness," Harry supplied, 'probably.'

'Bloody Weasleys, I'll rip their throats out with my bare hands.'

'Oh love, don't say things like that. I'll get excited and all that…'


He looked up at Hermione. Everyone was looking at him.

"Sorry, 'Mione," he said with a fake smile. "I guess I'm a little tired."

They all relaxed. Bad idea. If there was one thing people quickly learnt about Harry Potter, was that smiles that big and blinding had nothing to do with happiness whatsoever.


Finally led out of the place, Harry heard Voldemort give orders. Apparently he knew the place. It had to be an old Order hiding place, as Voldemort had taken great pride in finding them all out without alerting the Order that he did. As he usually said:

"I just love the shocked looks on their faces when I pop up from a bush or something."

Voldemort had a strange sense of humour, but Harry wasn't about to burst the Dark Lord's happy time by pointing that out. So this group, acting like Harry was the freaking god of Light, would soon be subjected to Voldemort's idea of surprise. And then to his torture. Harry could never decide with one of them was more exciting.

Harry couldn't stop the smile from showing. Apparently no one thought it looked weird, and Ginny happily plastered herself against him. He was taking a shower after this. Two showers. If she dared to kiss him, bloody well five showers and scrubbing his lips. Just to make a point. He did not kiss girls he hated. If he was forced to kiss someone he hated, he was bloody well going to erase their traces from his person before he kissed Voldemort again.

They were discussing Christmas presents. Harry ignored them, kept a lookout and mentally thought up scenarios how they were going to die. Perhaps Voldemort would make it into one big Christmas present.

Although he still wanted his normal ones. Voldemort liked to spoil, and Harry was his favourite target. Ever since they started to work together had Harry been a bit of the Dark Lord's favourite, but when they got together it only grew. Voldemort had never had much of a restraint when it came to his anger, but sometimes he seemed almost irrationally angry whenever something happened to Harry that he, or Harry himself, didn't really like.

This anger, in this situation though, Harry perfectly understood. He would be pissed off as well. He already was, but knew it wouldn't match Voldemort's absolute fury. Especially if he popped up to the sight of a blood traitor rubbing herself against his lover. Harry felt sick at the mere thought.


Great. The Mudblood. He turned to face Hermione. Ginny skipped off to her mother, giving him back possession of his own arm.

"Yes, Hermione?"

"Listen, it must have been horrible on their side. I hope you know we do this out of love."

'No, you're doing this out of your own greed and fear but I'll let you believe your little delusion if it makes you happy in what will probably be one of your last days alive.'

"Do what?" he said.

"This. We brought you back to the Light. Maybe a bit more brutal when we'd like, but it's all done for the greater good," she said and put her hand on his arm. "Everything will be fine."

"Yes," Harry said and stood up. "It will. Not just in the way you think."

Voldemort did pop up. Out of the ground. Harry didn't want to know how he managed that but the first spell wasn't Avada Kedavra, but Crucio and it hit Ginny head-on. The redhead screamed.

"Harry!" the Light shouted.

In response he tore off those red robes, looked at them and said:

"What? I'm not going to save her. Ah, Severus, save me from these hideous people! And fire McGonagall before you kill her, yeah?"

Severus spun his wand around, rolling his eyes at Harry's antics, and fired a perfect Sectumsempra that tore McGonagall's chest up.

"Oh, wait, no, I wanted to kill her!" Harry suddenly shouted.

"That's why I didn't sever her head off," Severus offered. "She's still alive."


Harry got his wand out, they had at least left that one alone although Voldemort had designed it so anyone who tried to take Harry's wand away without his consent, they got burnt. Badly.

He moved through the Light people who were now fighting, desperately, against the evil, Dark horde (their words, Voldemort just liked it), and came to McGonagall's side. She was bleeding heavily but as Severus promised, she was still alive.

Harry stepped down on her chest, pressed at the wound and smiled as she shouted in agony. It was always nice hearing others scream in pain than himself. He didn't mind at all that it was a professor who seemingly cared for him. She helped taking him away from Voldemort, the only one who had ever bothered to truly save him.

People sometimes called him brain-washed. Harry knew this wasn't true; Voldemort had never needed to use any bribing or cursing to get Harry to his side. All Harry had done was growing up with the Dursleys, and they were the poster-family for "let's abuse this innocent child for a laugh". Well, had been. Nothing much left of them anymore.

He stepped harder, and McGonagall howled, blood seeping down on the ground, out of her mouth and down her cheeks. Harry aimed his wand at her.

Then there was a shield around him, and he turned around. Lucius Malfoy with his wand up, and a terrified Hermione Granger pointing her wand at Harry.

"Did you just try to attack me from behind?" Harry said.


"Did you just try to attack me from behind?!" Harry shouted, turning his wand on her. "You fucker. I'll kill you. No, wait… that would be too kind. Lucius, capture her!"


Harry never really remembered when Lucius had begun to listen to him like he was a second Dark Lord but it had been that way for years. He didn't complain. It was quite fun, but he did make a habit of never humiliating Lucius or asking for something ridiculous. The blond was loyal, and kind, so who was Harry to exploit on that loyalty just for a laugh? He was crazy, yes, but not that crazy.

Nor that stupid. So he let Lucius take care of Hermione and turned back to the professor.

"Mr Potter…" she gasped. "Harry. Please."

"Please what?"

"Please… see the truth."

"The truth?" Harry squatted down next to her. "I'll tell you a truth. You never once checked on me at the Dursleys, and they knew it. The first time I was hit, they were scared. But once they realized no one was coming to save me, it was all a big laugh for them. Hurting me. Hitting me. That is the truth, McGonagall. I think that upbringing made me damn good material for a Dark Lord."

He leaned closer.

"You know what I did when I first got the letter to Hogwarts?" He tilted his head. "You don't? Well, what I did was just telling myself something. I was going to find out who had left me with the Dursleys, and I would kill them."


"Oh yes. I got my wish in the end. Although, Voldemort was the one to really kill Dumbledore. But at least I got to watch."

"No, Harry, you can't…"

"I can't what? Be evil because my parents weren't?" He smiled widely. "Let me tell you something. You aren't born evil or good. You learn either one. The Dursleys taught me to be evil, and how to hate someone you wished to kill them yourself. That was what they taught me, professor McGonagall."

He didn't give her a chance to continue preaching. He hated preaching people, especially when they went on and on about forgiving, and how he had to be a hero. A swift spell split her throat, and he watched impassively as blood dribbled out of her mouth.

"Goodbye, professor. Go to hell."

A spell came flying towards him but was quickly deflected by Voldemort himself, who then tugged Harry close and said:

"Now, where is that damn Weasley wench of a girl, love? I'm afraid I lost track of her after that first Crucio."

"How careless of you."

"I know, which is why I'm asking if you have seen her."

"Aw, you don't want to give them a show?" Harry said. "Just a tiny kiss? No, wait. I have to shower before I let you do anything like that. I got Light germs all over me."

"Oh shut it, it's not going to kill me."

And then he was kissed. In the middle of a fight. Harry thought he heard Severus yell:

"Must they do that every bloody time?!"

He might have imagined it. Voldemort sent a Stinging hex over his shoulder, and they both heard a yelp and a curse. Well, maybe not.

Ginny was screaming. Someone else had to have her under a curse now. Good, easy to see, hear, where she was then. Harry smiled into the kiss, grasped Voldemort's robes and murmured against the thin lips:

"I'd suggest you follow that shrill voice. Go and get her. Do I get someone of them to torture for a Christmas present?"

"You've already killed one," Voldemort said as they separated.

"And that was just one. I at least want to see someone else paying for their idiocy."

Voldemort grinned, and passed him over to Lucius, who had Harry tucked against his side soon enough. Yes, Lucius was loyal and listened to Harry as if he was a Dark Lord, but there was a gentler side to the blond as well. Ever since Harry grew really close with Draco Lucius had a tendency to show the same affection he has for his son to Harry as well. Neither of them disliked it, and Voldemort tolerated it only because he knew Lucius's interest in Harry was only fatherly.

The fight was over soon. Some were captured and others lay dead on the ground. Harry wasn't all that concerned. He spotted Hermione and Ginny with the prisoners and grinned. Oh, this Christmas had started out poorly but it seemed it would only get better from now on.


The official statement was that a large group of rebels had kidnapped Harry and now been dealt with. All the names were listed as dead but Harry knew at least half of them were awaiting their fates in Voldemort's dungeons.

However, they could wait some more. Three showers, and a thorough scrubbing, and Harry practically leaped into Voldemort's arms.

"Those bloody Light people," the Dark Lord muttered. "Thinking you're their final hope. There is no hope for them."

"Silly you. There never was from the start," Harry said. "The Dursleys both made me evil and crazy, so the Light never stood a chance, really."

"I feel both a need to thank and curse that family of yours for that, even now."

"They're dead," Harry said as he fingered on the buttons on Voldemort's robe. "Besides, you did that before they died. Thanked them, and then cursed them. In that order. I bet that confused them."

Voldemort laughed. To many, it was a chilling, terrifying sound. For Harry it had always been a comfort, and it didn't fail now either. The teen pressed closer and smiled.

"Home at last," he murmured. "How many escorts will I have in the future?"

"No less than ten people, all armed to the teeth," the Dark Lord stated, not joking. "Myself if I'm available. I'm considering ordering Draco Malfoy to be your personal bodyguard upon your graduation."

"He already is. In school I mean. He probably didn't think something like this would happen but I assure you, he will truly be my bodyguard after this. He's as paranoid as you."

"No one can be as paranoid as me."

Harry groaned. "Don't sound so superior when saying something like that."

"I can't argue with the truth. Now, do you wish to eat?"

"Yes! I'm starving! I want meat, and potatoes, and lots of sweet things, and perhaps chicken as well…"

"I believe you will find my choices for our food agreeable."

And it was. Because it was everything Harry wanted, and beyond. He grinned and tugged Voldemort over to the table. They were alone, as they wished, but the Malfoy family and Severus would be visiting during Christmas day. Until then, it was only Harry and Voldemort, and of course the prisoners in the dungeons, who were carefully watched by Voldemort's house-elves, well-trained in keeping wizards and witches captive.

Hermione had once tried to free the house-elves but she would soon find that arguing with Voldemort's elves was hopeless. They did not listen to Light people, and certainly not to a girl who sprouted about rights and clothes when Voldemort practically gave them everything they wanted, including payment and holidays. Yes, it was a bit weird, but it made them all the more loyal to the Dark Lord.

Voldemort poured a glass of wine for Harry and one glass for himself.

"For your successful return," the Dark Lord said, raising his glass.

"And your raid. The rebels are wearing rather thin now, aren't they?"

"Those who remain will fight even harder now," Voldemort said as their glasses clinked together. "You'll be escorted and protected at school. I trust young Malfoy to tail you around, but I will still have a few choice adults at school. Light rebels are young these days, younger than you."

"Oh joy. Great. I'll be stalked by your Death Eaters."

"I'm not having another episode like that. Would you?"

Harry thought about it for a bit.

"Well, I guess I can put up with it…"

"Good. Now, how about a toast for the lovely prisoners we caught this time?"

"Didn't we just toast?"

"Does it matter?"

Harry shook his head and they toasted again. Very soon Voldemort had the young man in his lap, and Harry fought the drowsiness of the alcohol and the somewhat stressful day he had had. Voldemort circled his arms around the teen and said:

"My dear, don't worry. I'm here. You can sleep now. Tomorrow we will open our presents, and enjoy many hours reminding the Light that there is no hope."

Harry smiled. He liked the sound of that. He always did enjoy some torture, and what better day to do it on than Christmas?

So with that he let Voldemort sweep him up, moving them to their bedroom in preparation for the following day and the celebration of the holidays. Truly, he could not wish for a better way to spend them.


Hope you enjoyed!

Until next time,