Chapter Text
"Let me go! Let go, you crazy bitch!" Harry yelled as Bellatrix Lestrange dragged him and a half conscious Severus Snape behind her across a large stone hall. Cackling, she tossed both of them in front of an ornate throne carved of ebony with redwood inlay at the back of the hall, at the feet of Lord Voldemort in all of his serpent hybrid glory, red eyes and all.
"And what treasure have you brought me my Bella?" Voldemort asked with a laugh before taking a proper look at the two captives that the cackling madwoman had tossed at his feet. "Well, well, well, Mr. Potter, how good of you to join us, and Severus... you have more than a few questions to answer."
"Sod off wanker! I'm tired of you all trying to kill me! None of you even bother to tell me why! I can't get anything from the other side either," Harry fumed.
Realizing a moment later that Snape wasn't yelling at him to shut up because he was actually hurt, Harry scrambled over to check one of the only teachers who had reliably tried to keep him safe. Quickly and with obviously far too much practice for his age and supposed background he checked the potions master over. When he checked for a concussion he found one and swore under his breath, carefully adjusting his grip and the way that Snape's head rested on the floor. The rest of the people in the room watched his actions with more than a little surprise as a gleam of interest and sudden avarice began to glitter in Voldemort's own gaze.
"Your diagnosis?" Voldemort asked casually, curious to know what his young enemy had concluded and what he would say on the matter.
"Concussion, a pretty bad one, still bleeding wound to the head, probably the reason he's got a concussion, something cut his side but his clothes and robes are soaking up the blood. He might be loosing too much, I'm not sure with the heavy clothes he wears and the fact that its black. The way Bellatrix dragged us in here didn't help any, and he could be bleeding internally after the way I saw him tossed into the side of a building by that mis-aimed blasting hex," Harry muttered absently as he continued trying to do what he could for the older wizard.
"~Tom, is this the sneaky spy? Has he hurt you? May I eat him?~" A hissy voice reached Harry's ears from somewhere near Voldemort's feet as Nagini slid out from under the man's throne.
"~No! You can't eat him, he's mine!~" Harry hissed back viciously, as he quickly moved between the snake and the downed professor, stunning the room into silence as they realized the snake language had come from Potter of all people.
"~Yours? The mark on his arm says he's mine.~" Voldemort hissed back quietly, echoing through the rest of the room. Harry paled as he realized his mistake and refused to meet the man's gaze, while still doing his best to shield the man behind him. "~You will answer my questions, fully and truthfully or I will make you watch him die as he is torn apart. Have I made myself perfectly clear?~"
"Yes," Harry practically whispering his answer as he switched back into English.
"Why did you claim him as yours?" Voldemort asked, starting the interrogation, easily following the language switch. Harry shrugged non-commitally earning a warning. "Full and Truthful disclosure, little Harry."
"I honestly don't know. I just know that he's mine even if I didn't know until I said it. Its like something about him is... singing to me. Something on his left arm, or in his chest. I figured that the singing from his arm came from you and how you make my scar burn but the other..." Harry trailed off uncertainly. Voldemort watched the young man intently.
"You said that no one has explained to you why we are trying to kill you, is this true?" Voldemort asked, fully focused on the question and answer session.
"My Aunt and Uncle said my parents died in a car crash, that they were drunk driving and out of work. Hagrid said that you killed them and I've been asked enough times about this stupid scar that I figure he's probably right," Harry said, deciding to give the man a little bit of background for his answer. "The only concrete things I can get out of just about anyone is that I look like my father and have my mothers eyes and that you killed them. Sometimes I can get Sirius or Remus to tell me about pranks they pulled in school, but no one will explain why everyone is fighting or why I'm supposed to kill you. Any time I ask they tell me that you are evil and killed my parents and that all of you want to kill all muggles and muggleborns. Which is just stupid since without them we'd likely all be dead or insane. I'm working with what little information I have and you haven't exactly tried to prove them wrong."
"The muggles are nothing but animals!" Bellatrix screeched in outrage setting Harry back to fuming and glaring at her until Voldemort responded to the interruption.
"Bella! Enough!" Voldemort ordered harshly, silencing the witch with a glare as he contemplated Harry's answer before asking his next question. "What do you mean we would all be dead or insane without them?"
"When was the last time you went to muggle school?" Harry asked hesitantly, he quickly rushed through his explanation for the question when he saw the thunderous look on the man's features. "Its important, the information was only really found out in the 1940's and 50's, they didn't even start teaching it for a while after that, though the ancient Greeks and stuff knew about some of it."
"Since I suspect we will all have to learn it if it truly is that important why don't we assume that nothing is known and go from there?" Voldemort offered after a moment's contemplation. Harry nodded in understanding and tried to figure out how he was going to explain genetics and the effects of inbreeding to a bunch of pureblood supremacists.
"Right, I don't know a whole lot about it but the basics are taught in muggle primary so I'll give it a go and I'll try to make it so everyone can understand," Harry informed him, earning an understanding nod for him to continue. "Everyone knows that a child gets something from both parents to make the baby right? But the thing is muggles discovered that if both parents are to closely related bad things happen to what makes the baby. The DNA, or I guess you could call it the basic recipe that says what we look like and can do gets mistakes in it. Trying to stay pure without enough different recipe types is like when you change part of a potion and don't know what the ingredients do. Sometimes its an explosion, like with adding the quill to early to the boil cure potion, and sometimes its pretty much okay like when you accidentally add a little too much or to little to say a pepper up potion. If you mix the recipes that are closely related together too many times then the recipes forget parts that make up the base of the potion. There are too many ingredients in the recipe that make us human and the base needs to remain mostly the same or bad things happen. An example is probably Squibs and Muggleborns, actually."
"Elaborate," Voldemort ordered. "More clearly this time."
"Er, well the recipe gets confused when given two similar recipes. There are mistakes in everybody's recipe and if they are different enough to start with then the stuff that matches tends to be seen as important and has a better chance of being in the baby. But if both the recipes have the same mistake then whatever makes the baby can't tell if its supposed to be there or not. Sometimes its a good thing to keep that mistake but a lot of the time its not so good. When the muggles find us they will want to check our recipes, our DNA to see why we have magic and if they can make it so that anyone can have magic. They might not even see us as human at first, my relatives certainly don't..." Harry promptly shut up when he realized he had mentioned his relatives. The silence resonating from his slip up was palpable.
"A decent explanation, no doubt someone can get me the official material to read at my leisure. We will be addressing your relatives in a moment. ~No, Nagini, you may not eat Severus. It appears that young Mr. Potter may be more valuable than I thought so you may not eat him either. If you continue to behave I will allow you to chase Wormtail.~" Voldemort said before switching to Parseltongue to address his eager familiar. The cocked head then rapid nod that the serpent gave told everyone that she had eagerly agreed to whatever Voldemort had suggested.
"~May we keep the hatchling speaker? I want to raise him. He will be my hatchling as you were my hatchling,~" Nagini hissed in eagerness, earning a startled look from her red-eyed master. Voldemort studied his long time friend before glancing thoughtfully at a nervous Harry.
"~I will consider it.~" Voldemort conceded slowly before switching his attention back to a surprised yet wary Harry who had understood every serpentine word. "How do your relatives view us?"
"I... They..." Harry stammered, unsure what to say. It was at that moment that Snape chose to moan, trying to properly wake up and drawing Harry's attention.
"I will have a Healer called to attend to him if it will help you answer," Voldemort said shrewdly, wondering at just what had happened to make Harry so worried over his supposedly least favorite professor and why he was acting so strangely about his relatives.
Harry nodded reluctantly, silently acknowledging to himself at least that they would have a better chance if Snape was properly seen too, before sticking his hands in his pockets and hunching his shoulders in obvious misery. Voldemort nodded and signaled for the Healer to be summoned. Their audience waited restlessly as the Healer tended to Snape, pouring various potions into him as well as casting healing spells. They were all eager to have more information after Harry's slip about his relatives and no one wanted to risk being sent away or crucioed because they were noisy or overly distracting.
"He should be fine now but he needs to be watched for the next 24 hours in case his concussion gets worse or otherwise develops complications, my lord," The Healer said, rising from his crouched position next to Snape. "He didn't quiet loose too much blood. I would, however, recommend that he takes at least one blood replenishment potion within the next 24 hours and another once we are certain that the concussion wont cause other problems. The internal bleeding has stopped and begun healing quite nicely. To that end I recommend bed rest for the next few days with a type 2 general healing potion every 4-8 hours after the first 24 hours to avoid conflict with the concussion. Until the first 24 hours are up try to keep him from moving as much as possible. Is there anything else you need?"
"Thank you, no. For now you should retire to one of the other rooms and have some tea. We may need you again tonight and I would rather we not have to wait for you to arrive," Voldemort said, his eyes never leaving Harry.
"Very good, my lord," He said with a slight bow before leaving Snape on the stone floor before exiting the room. He knew better than to suggest Snape's movement to an actual bed as the audience was clearly not over and instead opted to inform the house elves for later.
"Now, I believe that I asked you a question about your relatives?" Voldemort asked in a soft silky tone of voice that had Harry shivering in barely suppressed reaction. Though the youth wasn't entirely sure what type of reaction he was suppressing or if it was too much of a mixture of emotions.
"They don't like magic," Harry said miserably, hoping that would be enough but knowing it was unlikely.
"Go on," Voldemort instructed.
"They think we're freaks that don't deserve to live," Harry admitted as he hunched down in his shoulders and pockets as much as he could.
"Those aren't old play clothes... or rather not your old play clothes..." Voldemort said, stating it more than asking as understanding dawned.
"I don't really have my own clothes, 'm not 'llowed," Harry practically mumbled with a shrug. Voldemort let that one go since he hadn't really asked a question and opted to study the young wizard in front of him. He also didn't want to think about the sudden rage he was trying to damp down at such treatment of a wizarding child being associated with the brat he had to kill.
"Where is your wand?" Voldemort asked abruptly, Harry shrugged, he really didn't know. "It appears that Dumbledore has played us as if we were his puppets. I want you all to gather as much accurate information on the situation and war in general before the next meeting. You are all dismissed."
Harry turned to Snape and tried to think of how he was going to carry the man away and get them back to Hogwarts, acting like they were dismissed as well. Meanwhile everyone else quietly filed out, recognizing that it would be unwise to potentially break Voldemort's obvious good though definitely annoyed mood. They especially didn't want to upset him if that earlier flare of temper was anything to go by how fragile that mood actually was.
"And where do you think you are going, little wizard?" Voldemort asked in amusement, while he watched Harry try to figure out how to get the two of them away.
"Hogwarts?" Harry replied tentatively. Seeing the look on Voldemort's face his shoulders slumped again before he offered his next suggestion in resignation. "The dungeons?"
"No, I think that is to far away from me," Voldemort said thoughtfully, before levitating the still insensate potions master with a twitch of his wand, using the man as a tether for the youth and making it clear that Harry was to follow as he left the throne room.
Harry followed meekly, unwilling to leave Snape to whatever Voldemort decided to do with the spy. He was also completely puzzled by the lack of attacks and general pain that usually accompanied his confrontations with the Dark Lord for all that his scar was still tingling. Deciding that it would be best not to upset the powerful Dark Wizard with the only visible wand who was levitating possibly the only semi-reliable adult that hadn't outright tried to kill him in the building he followed quietly behind them.
Voldemort didn't bother checking behind him as they walked down various corridors toward his suite of rooms. He kept his senses wide open to make sure that Harry didn't try anything stupid like attempting to escape as they traveled through the austere hallways of the manor. A quietly hissed command to the door of his suite granted them entry and assured that only Voldemort knew the password for all that he now knew that Harry could speak the correct language. Snape was gently placed on the nearby couch that graced the sitting room as the door swung shut unhindered behind the trio, sealing the two captives into the suite with their host.
Harry looked around the room warily, noting the carved marble fireplace big enough to fit a family of four or five inside of it with a roaring mini-bonfire, the dark walnut paneling, black leather furniture. Harry admired the many dark wooden bookcases that were filled to bursting lining the walls. He let out a yelp and stumbled backward as Nagini shot past him chasing a rat that was probably Wormtail or a conjured toy. Viciously, he hoped it was a toy and that Wormtail was already residing in his new home, the snake's stomach.
"Sit," Voldemort ordered from his seat near the fire, having moved there while Harry was distracted. Harry obeyed, taking the chair on the opposite side of the fire as he continued eyeing his parent's murderer warily and occasionally glanced towards the couch with its occupant. "You are safe here, for the time being. You will continue to answer my questions truthfully and to the best of your ability. I will not require the same of any questions asked by my followers aside from those regarding any orders I give and questions about your health and that of Severus. Disobey and there will be unpleasant consequences. Have I made myself clear?"
"Yes," Harry said sulkily as he slumped a bit in his chair, feeling more than a little helpless.
"I am honestly surprised that you haven't made your way to Gringotts and claimed the Potter Lordship," Voldemort commented nonchalantly as he studied the young man in front of him. "But then again you never did wear the heir ring either."
"What are you talking about?" Harry asked in obvious confusion as he sat up straight.
"You don't know," Voldemort said in obvious disbelief. Harry shook his head in a confirming, if slightly confused, no. "Idiots! What was the old fool thinking? At least tell me that you know basic wizarding etiquette?"
"Sorry, no. I didn't even know I was a wizard until I was eleven," Harry admitted, mystified at Voldemort's sudden frustration and annoyance.
"In other words you have no idea how many important powerful families that you have made mortal enemies of, nor do you have any idea what is expected of you as the head of the Potter family," Voldemort said tightly with a scowl. "No wonder you ignored my attempts at a truce."
"What attempts? I never received anything. I would have jumped on a chance to get you to stop trying to kill me," Harry asked, even more confused.
"Potter, shut up," Snape rasped from his place on the couch, finally coming to enough to realize who else was in the room with them.
"You are concussed, which is the only reason I won't curse you for interrupting our discussion," Voldemort said in a clipped tone of obvious annoyance. "Now, kindly be silent or I will curse you any way. You will be answering enough questions of your own once you are properly healed enough to be coherent."
Snape fell silent in confusion, the blow to his head jumbling his thoughts and memories together into a barely coherent mess. The only thing he knew was that he was supposed to keep the other two apart and protect the younger wizard from the older as much as possible. To that end he dragged his barely responding body upright and lurched toward them, only just catching himself on the fireplace as he laboriously placed himself between the two. Breathing hard he turned his back to Harry and used himself as a shield.
"Well, well, well, this is an interesting development," Voldemort murmured as he leaned forwards in interest as Harry watched in shock. The green streak of Nagini still chasing something headed in their direction caused Snape, with his rattled mind, to startle and completely cover Harry as if to protect him from a killing curse in mid-flight. "Yes, very interesting. ~Nagini, either eat Wormtail or chase him from our rooms. I will take you outside later for a proper hunt but for now I need you to slow your movements.~"
"~Yes, Tom. Thank you!~" Nagini hissed before increasing her speed just enough to swallow the animagus whole. Moving much slower this time she slithered over to her master and coiled herself around him and his chair just as Harry managed to move Snape slightly off of him.
"Could you.. ugh, cast a feather light charm on him or something?" Harry asked with a grunt as Snape gave a low moan of pain before slumping to the floor at his student's feet, once more semi-conscious, promoting the worried suggestion. "Maybe we should put him back on the couch?"
"Very well. Be warned that unless you both can convince me that you have more value alive than dead you will not survive and Severus will die a traitor's death," Voldemort said in warning as he returned Snape to the leather couch. Harry blanched, knowing from his dreams and visions exactly what all that entailed, as he nodded his understanding. Taking a deep breath to gather his courage Harry decided he might as well ask his own questions before they were killed since he couldn't think of anything that they had which would convince Voldemort to keep them alive.
"Alright, I need more information before I can offer anything since I am pretty clueless about everything," Harry warned, earning a nod of understanding and agreement from Voldemort which allowed him to relax enough to continue in a rush of questions. "What did you mean about a Potter Lordship? Why do you all keep trying to kill me? Why is everyone fighting? Are you really planning to kill all of the muggles and muggleborns? Why did I survive whenever you tried to kill me? What was that memory thing you left in the diary that I had to kill? Why isn't everyone treated fairly? What..."
"What do you mean about killing my diary?" Voldemort interrupted the flood as soon as he registered the question about the little book in shock.
"Um... It sort of set the basilisk loose in the school during my second year. I had to go down into the chamber of secrets to save Ginny and stop the attacks. The basilisk bit me when I killed it and Fawkes cried on the bite before I stabbed the diary with the basilisk fang that had stuck in my arm. I think Mr. Malfoy still has what's left of the diary but I'm not sure since I tricked him into freeing Dobby with it and he was the last one I saw holding it," Harry offered hesitantly. The incredulous look of shock on Voldemort's face was priceless.
"Perhaps I should have you summarize all of your time at Hogwarts and explain exactly why you aren't in Slytherin. I attacked you in first year, and apparently in second year. Then there was fourth year and the tournament, along with whatever you dealt with during third year and whatever trials that this year has presented to you. Its a wonder you aren't dead," Voldemort commented speculatively. Harry huffed in general frustration and couldn't keep the blush of embarrassment from creeping into his cheeks. "It is clear we will need considerably more time than we have this evening so I will provide you with parchment and quill, with which you will truthfully and completely summarize your life. You will also provide a written list of all the questions you feel need to be answered to make an informed decision as to what to offer for your lives. I will, however, promise that the two of you will live out the week whatever else is decided unless there is some emergency which requires either of your deaths, as unlikely as that is. Beyond that I will promise you nothing until the situation is more clear to avoid later problems on both our parts. Do you find this agreeable?"
"Yeah, but if you decide you have to kill me could you let Snape go? He's the only one who's ever treated me normally. I only agree with Ron about him being a git because I don't want to fight with one of my first friends," Harry requested almost plaintively.
"I will consider it," Voldemort conceded before standing and transfiguring his chair into a bed for the youth and summoned blankets for both of his guests, handing them to Harry. "Go to sleep. We will explore the situation further in the morning."
Harry nodded tiredly, spreading one of the blankets over his professor on the couch before climbing into the transfigured bed, which was much softer than either of the ones he had at the Dursleys, and quickly fell asleep. Harry completely forgot about his normal silencing spell, with how exhausted he was and without a wand to cast it with, it didn't seem to matter as much. Voldemort marveled at how fast Harry dropped into the arms of Morpheus and wondered just what the boy had to deal with that he was comfortable enough in the presence of a mortal enemy to fall asleep so quickly. Adding this new piece of the puzzle to his mental file he moved into his bedroom and went to his own rest until his alarm woke him to check the concussed potions master.