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Chapter Text

He could feel something was wrong.

More wrong than usual and that said quite a lot. Especially since this feeling was his constant companion since the end of his fourth year in Hogwarts, since Cedric death.

Many things happened from then on. He was ignored by his friends, left alone to brew in his misery, treated no different than house elf and ridiculed by Dursleys for whole summer, tortured by detentions with Umbridge and questionable lessons with Snape, and to add to that by nightmares exchanged with visions of Voldemort. And yet the worst of it all the sole man who should be his mentor, who should guide him was avoiding him.

So yes, Harry was not feeling his best this last few months.

He woke up to the soft sunlight streaming through his closed eyelids, birds chirping, fire cracking in the fireplace, calm humming and smell of parchment.

His sleep deprived mind finally come to conclusion that this couldn't be right.

He startled and opened his eyes. He was not in Hogwarts. Harry was lying on soft couch in a room so homely and warm yet very elegant. Walls almost not visible, hidden behind shelfs filled with books, cozy fireplace and big windows.

The boy sat up, placing feet on extremely soft, slytherin green rug. He was barefoot, dressed in his pyjama he wore last night to bed. Big oversized shit with few holes along the seams and almost see-through fabric passed to him as a cast out of Dudely's and cheap muggle underpants so mercifully gifted to him by Aunt Petunia.

He felt very out of place.

He was alone in the room even though he still could hear soft humming. Harry felt he heard it before but for the love of God he could not recall anyone with voice so warm and soft as this one.

He made a move to get up and woke up.

—

Harry was back in his bed in Hogwarts. He felt he should be worried but felt so rested like he hadn't for quite some time. Calmed by usual sounds of his dormmates rushing to breakfast and by this warm and soft feeling in his chest he moved to get up, starting from shower as he already was used to for most of the nights left him sweaty and nervous.

Soon all the boys left for the Great Hall and he was left alone to think about last night.
 
It did not feel like his nightmares or visions and yet gryffindor could tell it was certainly a dream. Too calm dream, too peaceful. And if Harry knew one thing it was that nothing good was happening to him just like that.

To be fair, lessons with Snape maybe didn't help his occlumency but certainly drilled into him that Voldemort could mess with his mind.

And he had no doubt that this had to be the Dark Lord messing with him.

It was weird to feel so contrasting about it. Feeling of softness and peace amplifying sense of wrongness in him.

This had to be some sort of vision sent to him by Voldemort but why was it like that? It made no sense.

Till now he was pretty sure Voldemort wasn't conscious of the connection they had but maybe that has changed? Maybe that was the reason for whatever it was last night.

Gryffindor contemplated going to Snape for a moment as Dumbledore would certainly avoid him once again but he could already hear the mocking voice of the git ‘So you think that the Dark Lord sent you a cozy dream? Tragic.’

So no, it was not an option. Harry got out of the shower with a sigh and dressed. He felt better today and it would be stupid to waste the weekend worrying about some Dark Git while he had to worry about his education first.

Unfortunately detentions Umbridge was so set on giving him caused a problem with no time for anything than maybe a few hours of sleep if he was lucky.

After a quick trip to kitchens to grab a small breakfast and refusing abnormal quantities of food offered to him by house elves he set out to the library.

Hermione was already there, sitting in the corner of the room, hidden behind tall stacks of books. No doubt in the middle of revision of OWLs material she memorised ages ago.

"Hi ‘Mionie" said Harry sliding into the seat next to her and taking out his unfinished transfiguration paper.

"Hello Harry, you look better today. Did you have a good night?" she said, looking at him from above a stack of carefully placed books.

"Well, I did sleep well actually-"

"That is great!" Hermione interrupted him in a very excited whisper. "I have prepared a study plan for you and Ron! Here, have a look."

"Thanks" said Harry looking at the parchment filled with Hermionie's writing. She planned every minute of his day. Great. "And where is Ron? I thought he was at breakfast with you."

"Well he was but he left after it to get you. I am surprised he didn't come with you."

So this is how it was. Ron decided to escape Hermionie's study plan and not to even warn him. Well, not like he could hold it against his friend. Harry also would prefer to use weekend to do anything else but study would he not be so behind on homework.

In time they left the library for lunch he actually managed to finish most of his homework and study a bit. With Hermionie's help and rested mind he even found their little study session quite nice.

Even Hermione was satisfied which helped to sway her to get out to relax a bit. Ron joined them outside and together they settled near Black Lake playing chess and talking till it started to get cold.

Harry was so happy with the day, that once his head finally hit the bed he was filled with hope that now everything would be fine.

Chapter Text

Everything was not fine

Well it was but at the same time it was not.

He was once again in the same room, on the same couch. Fire alight, soft humming sounds resonating through the air.

At once he made a move to get up hoping it would wake him up like last time but it did not.

The room was small for no doubt some pureblood prick mansion it was part of. Harry walked the room, finding a big, wooden desk with extra comfy chair behind it. Opposite to fire place stood soft, burgundy couch he woke up on together with two armchairs. Walls were covered with books, all on magic both dark and light. He did not miss the door hidden between bookshelves but they did not budge when he tried to open them.

Frustrated with the room the boy moved to check the windows. They were big, reaching from floor to ceiling, letting in lots of natural light. Harry was charmed with garden he saw outside. After further investigation one of the windows turned out to be a french door.

He did not have high hopes for them to be open but they surprised him. The door opened without any problem and the boy took a carefully step outside.

It was wonderful. Fresh smell of lavender filled his lungs. He could hear cheerful chirping of birds, warm sun and soft spring wind on his skin.

He closed his eyes from content he felt. The humming he started to ignore while searching a room turned satisfied. Harry didn't understand how he knew it was satisfied. He just felt it.

That is how he woke up.

—

Now he was worried.

Second night with the same dream. Same place  and no Voldemort.

He was up to something. Harry was sure of it. But what would he achieve by sending his teenage enemy pleasant dreams? Maybe he needed him well rested for some other ritual? Or to lull him in a sense of safety to attack unexpected?

Together with Ron he set out for the breakfast. Hermione was already sitting at the table.

"Harry, Ron! Finally! I was getting worried you would be late." Said Hermione, moving her books to make space for them.

"Late for what Hermione? It is Sunday, we have no classes today" Ron sat down with force, already preparing himself to battle Hermione for the right to another day free of studying.

"We have study plan to follow Ronald! You may have skipped it yesterday but today we have to  study. Especially since that toad won't teach us nothing!" Hermione's voice turned outraged at her friend's unwillingness to spend time in library. He could certainly use some time there based in his latest performance in charms and potions.

"Well, that is why we have Harry give us lessons 'Mionie. We don't have to spend whole weekend rooting in the library!" Whined Ron.

"Actually I have something I would like to talk about with two of you" Said Harry, stopping inevitable argument of his two best friends.

"What is it mate?" Asked ginger, reaching for bread and eggs and placing them on his plate.

"We should look for some private place, I don't want to discuss it while someone may overhear it." Together they prepared their take out breakfast discussing the best place for private chat.

Once they settled on a place, they packed some sandwiches and tea and headed to room of requirements.

Room took exact shape of Gryffindor's common room. Filled with gold and red. Worn furniture giving it cozy look. They settled on the floor, closest to the fireplace, leaning on the atrocious amount of cushions.

He didn't really think he would get nervous to talk about the dreams to his friends but now he could feel his hands getting clammy. Maybe he shouldn't tell them about it. After some thinking they couldn't be so weird. Maybe it was just him that was thinking simple dreams instead of nightmares were something suspicious.

They sat in silence, Ron and Hermione taking out their food on floor between them, giving Harry time to gather his thoughts.

He was tempted to not tell them anything after all but he knew that now Hermione and Ron would not leave the topic alone. They both knew that Harry was prone to stupid ideas and letting him muse in his worries would bring nothing good.

"Sooo…" Said Harry, nervously rubbing his scar. "I have  had some weird dreams…" He blushed. It was not how he wanted to start. With his voice nervous and shaky.

His friends faces expressions turned worried more caused by the way Harry said it than the content of what he said. Well, some weird dreams at their age were quite normal after all.

"Voldemort sent you new visions?" Asked Hermionie, wanting to specify type of dreams they are talking about.

"Was it like last time when you have seen dad getting hurt?"

"Well… Yes, but not exactly like that. It is something new" Hermione's furrowed brows not understanding.

"New like what? Are you okay?"

"I am fine. No need to worry. The dreams are surprisingly um… how to call it… pleasant"

"Mate, some dreams like that are natural. We are teenagers already..." Slightly blushed Ron's shoulder met with the girls hand, interrupting his you are growing boy speech.

"Harry… What are these dreams like?" Hermionie looked at Ron with narrowed eyes. She was not sure what these dreams were but the talk could certainly wait few minutes. Better have Harry tell them all he knows first.

The boy's breathing turned rugged and his eyes panicked.

"I had two for now, and they are weird. I am in this room, it looks like some fancy pureblood wizard study. There is this humming sound and I feel like I know this voice but I can't connect it to anyone. This place feels warm and safe and… Well I wake well rested after it and it is weird…"

"Harry, it is okay. You are spiralling. Calm down. Take a breath." Hermionie calmed him. "We are not judging you." She shared a quick look with Ron, both understanding where their friend's panic come from. He was shunned by wizard society, by other students, hell even some of their dormmates were looking at Harry like he was the one to murder Cedric. No wonder he was panicked about his two friends changing his opinion on him and rejecting him.

"Right mate, it is alright. We are happy that you feel okay with telling us that." His hand on raven harried boy's shoulder started rubbing soothing circles.

Harry willed tears that appeared in his eyes while he talked away and took few deep breaths.

"So you don't think there is something wrong with me for um... liking these dreams?" he asked this friends hopefully, purposely not looking at them.

"Oh Harry, of course we don't think that there is something wrong with you. After you have had nightmares and visions for so long it is no wonder you prefer this new type of dreams"

"And it is Voldemort! If he changed his methods then well it may actually first good choice he made! Anyway it is better for us that he is no longer torturing you with visions" Said ginger boy.

"You are right" Sight. "I- Thank you"

"Welcome Harry. You are our friend. We will be always on your side"

With this words Hermione thrown herself on raven haired boy pulling other boy with her. They eloped him in crushing hug. The griffindor trio stayed like that for a while. The moment was interrupted by grumbling that caused round of giggling. 

They reached for sandwiches swindled from breakfast and munched on them happily. With their mood greatly improved by conversation and meal the trio set out to library.

Chapter Text

Voldemort was not having a good time.

He expected for his followers to be if not capable then at least somehow intelligent.

He gave them whole summer to find one boy. He gave them all clues he could have. From boys dreams he extracted a house. Muggle looking neigborhood filled with same looking houses and pristine gardens. How hard could it be?

Maybe Lord Voldemort should have expected it from them. They were nothing compared to his original group of followers. They haven't even looked for their Lord, believing him dead by the hand of toddler. Some maybe were happy to believe him so.

One good thing about these damned purebloods was money. He drained Malfoys family vaults for gold to renovate Riddle manor. After spending summer in Malfoy mansion he had enough of whinny blondes. Taking residence there was no less punishment for him than it was for Lucius.

There was many things requiring his attention, many meetings to hold and orders to be directed especially since his followers were not trusted to achieve what they were expected to by themselves. How he hated micromanaging.

His followers would believe his most thrilling entertainment was throwing crucio at them but how wrong they were. He would very much prefer his orders fulfilled than to listen to screams of a band of morons. His one true entertainment was torturing his teenage enemy - Harry Potter.

In his dreams he observed boy's dreams, him reliving events from graveyard. Each night he enjoyed the show, times better than any others suffering. His screams and cries a music for his ears. Streaming tears and twitching of body while crucioed above than any art by both muggle and magical artists.

Dark Lord could feel boy's anguish, pain resonating through his body when he was punishing his underlings. He felt so much satisfaction from feeling the boy he almost felt drunk with it.

Many times he daydreamed of little Potter. He imagined the speech, the glorious moment and fright he would see in boy's eyes. How he would savour the moment.

For weeks nothing changed. His dear Nagini failed in obtaining prophecy but the situation confirmed undeniable link connecting him to Potter boy. He could use it. He needed to discover how. He needed to think.

In the middle of the night, obscured by dark cloak the Dark Lord set out for a walk. His feet carried him to place he grown to appreciate after watching it each night.

Air in the graveyard was crisp, colder than it was the night of the ritual. Some graves still destroyed, no family to pay for the replacement of stone. Some shinning and new. And between them old grave of his father. Still stained faintly with Potter's blood. Voldemort's finger moved along stains, appreciating the beauty of them. He never expected the grave of his trash muggle father to become something beautiful, changed by the boy.

He mused once again about Potter, his raven hair and green eyes never leaving his thoughts. Feet carried him with no direction, distracted by little lion. He did not remember about Gaunt shack till he arrived in its area. Place looked worse than last time he had displeasure of seeing it. Rotten wood collapsed under weight of leaking roof. Disgusting. Now he was enraged with his past self. How could he left part of His soul in place like that. So contrasting with beauty of his enemy blood. He entered the shack, located loose plank in the floor and retrieved a ring. His horcrux, piece of himself.

It felt weird holding piece of his soul forever young, never ageing, not gaining experience and knowledge as he did. And yet he was glad he came here today. Ring was warm in his hand. Not overthinking it he put it on and

This night, when he has fallen asleep and the boy appeared in the nightmare he saw differently. The graveyard was as grey and uninteresting as always till the little lion's arrival.

His hair fluffier and it's colour deeper than deepest shade of night. His eyes shining brighter than any magic. Voldemort still found his suffering and pain entrancing, his blood spoiling the grave most beautiful but he saw more. Harry Potter was fascinating. He observed the way he moved for holly wand. The way his body moved while duelling the Dark Lord, his muscles twitching in echo of cruciatus curse and frown of his face.

And for the first time Lord Voldemort fled the dream of his enemy.

Chapter Text

The Dark Lord almost jumped from his bed with a heart beating madly in his chest. His vision was fogged and breath rugged.

What was that?

This feeling. What was it? Why did he look at Potter boy like that? These thoughts could not be his. He is The Dark Lord, he would not think about his enemy's soft hair and shining eyes and he most certainly would not call them beautiful! He will kill the boy for making him fill this. The suffering that boy will go through a thousand times worse than what he gifted any other. He will sever his flesh from his bones for this offence.

Voldemort pushed a hand against his chest to calm his beating heart, trying to escape his body. The Dark Wizard unsure wherever it was caused by shock of a dream or by something else... No, it must be some heart condition. His body was created very recently. He will contact Severus. This damned rat probably messed the ritual. He should have known better than to trust Pettigrew to manage something as important as his Lord's resurrection.

Wizard moved to window of his master bedroom overlooking a dying garden of his father's manor. He remembered luscious design of it, the trimmed hedges, perfect flowers growing here when he first arrived to meet his muggle parent. Just the garden worth more than whole orphanage. The rare flowers more expensive than a year of food for group of children.

He looked at grey garden, offending flowers years ago turned to ashes nurturing the soil. Thin layer of frost covered grass and leaves. The Dark Lord rejoiced in its death. Another thing treasured by his unworthy ancestors. He will take what he desires from them, not leaving a sliver of memory of them. The mansion renovated, furniture thrown out, each plank in floors exchanged for new. He took unworthy house of his ancestors and made it worthy of the Lord Voldemort. Reforged it's meaning and fate. Rooting mansion, roof almost collapsing, a house muggles were scared of. He changed it, made it more than it ever was.

He placed his white, serpentine hand on a window. Ring on his hand made a clinking sound when it's metal band connected with a glass. He took a look at it. Ugly stone in precious metal. Sole inheritance of his mother's pathological family. No better than muggles, barely a wizards. The disgust coiled in his guts.

Both families unworthy of him but at the same time a sign of his greatness, of his grand fate. For who but a most powerful wizard could make the greatest Dark Lord from a child born of these people? He raised above all purebloods with education that started years before Hogwarts, with money he didn't even dream of growing up, with loving families and dotting parents. They have all come to revere him, acknowledge greatness of Tom Riddle.

He felt as the ring grown warm, slowly calming his mind. Moving it away from thoughts of punishment for Pettigrew, of disgust for his families, of the boy, turning into thoughts of his first followers. How capable they were, how he could trust them to do their best at fulfilling the orders, trusting their Lord to bring them greatness they deserved. How he missed them in moments of solitude. He could trust them with his inner thoughts, listen to their advices and entrust planning to them.

Now he was stuck with their children turned adults, newer reaching potential they carried, potential he nurtured as a teenager in their parents. Some of them were at least faithful but it has gotten them nothing else but getting locked in Azkaban.

Lord Voldemort moved slowly from his chamber to private study in most warded wing of house. Accessible only for him and his darling Nagini. Cloak billowed behind him as he took hurried but graceful steps, filled with inspired plans to gather his followers. For after all what is a prison for one and only Dark Lord? If he wishes for his imprisoned followers then he shall take them and no ministry and dementors will stand in his way.

—

It was truly not so easy to be a Dark Lord as one may think.

Few weeks of planning, of patiently waiting for his poor excuses of followers to do their assigned task and what he ends up is a group of deranged wizards?

Time greatly wasted time he could have used to gain complete control over a ministry. He received rapport form Severus on the state of minds of his imprisoned Death Eaters and he was very much not happy with it. So he believed most of family members of his freed followers that now had to take care of band of people more prone to violence than he was.

Voldemort felt someone passing wards surrounding part of the mansion designed for hosting his followers meetings and his public office where he often discussed most private plans, destined for only selected ears. Narcissa knocked on study double doors. Truthfully this study was not so different from one in his private wing, same furniture placement, similar collection of books, most borrowed from his underlings libraries ages ago. Main difference was its mood. Warm wood replaced by ebony dark one, His desk top made of dark marble, soft couches and chairs for guest replaced by most uncomfortable leather versions. Everything was beautiful, sophisticated but designed to cause nervousness.

For his other followers he would wait before letting them in, let them marinate in their nerves, loose their calm, be afraid of disappointing him once again. But not for Lady Malfoy. He remembered her as a young girl, always so quiet and composed. Very easy to miss while near her spirited sister. He did not have big hopes for her then but she supprised even him. The title of Lady Malfoy and motherhood shaped her, her grey eyes in colour typical for Black family turned hard as steel bot not deprived of kindness for selected few. She did not stop at being a mother and a lady of rich family. She educated herself in both light dark and light healing magic. One many would deem useless for his cause for even he once believed that if his followers could not protect themselves then they deserved death. In last days it has proved itself most useful.

The door opened and woman stepped through. Ahe approached his des and took a respectable bow.

"My Lord." voice calm and steady, not afraid and shaky like most of his followers, not wrapped in madness not like some. He must acknowledge that he did like her. Lately they met most days as she was responsible of giving him updates on freed wizards recovery she was overseeing while Severus was stuck at Hogwarts. Maybe if he coordinated Azkaban breakout right after his resurrection there would be no need for treatment, Death Eaters crazy in love with torture and murder more useful to his plans. But now in theirs current condition they were nothing but a liability for him for Lord Voldemort would not lower himself to mindless murder of wizards and he would not concern his mind with muggles. No, he was more, he was born to lead. And the lead he would take, but not of a destroyed world with a living few. The light side was filled with talented and capable wizards and his with just a few still capable. He will take them, he will not be known for wasting potential his ministry would use after he takes over the Wizarding Britain.

"Narcissa, rapport" Dark Lord moved his hand gesturing for her to take a seat. With a bit of wandless and wordless magic he made a chair more comfortable. There was no need to make inconvenience her when she fulfilled his orders so well, he was merciful Lord after all.

"My Lord, the treatment is proceeding as planned, we have procured dated back document giving me access to Lestrange valve signed by Bellatrix and Rodolphus. Lucius will soon place copy of the document in ministry archives. Then neither Gringotts nor Wizgamoth will be able to refuse me access to the Lestrange vault"

"Good, make sure no one finds out what you take from the vault" Voldemort was impressed with her efficiency and immaculate control over her failure of a husband.

"Thank you, my Lord. I have planned to take Black family heirlooms that were passed to my sister. No one would question this action considering news of a breakout." He heard from Orion and Walburga many tirades of magical amulets, enchanted jewels and many other, all priceless pieces. He had no doubt that Bellatrix will offer them to him after they were retrieved. His soul of scholar rejoiced in future prospect of identifying ancient spells placed on these objects.

"Very well, you may go Lady Malfoy" Narcissa moved to the door after another bow. As she reached for the handle she hesitated.

"My Lord, there is one more thing." Voldemort did not answer but she saw that his attention was once again focused on her as she turned to face the Dark Lord. ' Bellatrix's recovery is proceeding but even before imprisonment she was very easy to anger and unstable in her emotions. The exposure to dementors significantly worsened her state, I am afraid she may not achieve full potential our cause needs" Lady Malfoy spoke calmly, her pureblood training no doubt helped in that but Lord Voldemort seen faint tremble of her lips, twitch of her hand subtly hidden by ruffles of her dress. She was worried for her sister, the Dark Lord her parents told her did not tolerate failure and she could see it by her own eyes all these years ago. Mere few weeks of his patience and mercy did not change dread she felt, after all no one knew when their Lord will lose this patience with them and get rid of these who failed him. So even when she cared for Bellatrix she decided to speak her suspicions as punishment for remaining silent about them would undoubtedly fall not only on Narcissa but also on Draco. And she would not risk her only son for her mad sister.

If Bellatrix would not heal properly she would undoubtedly be unsuited for the delicate approach he now needed, too unpredictable to be trusted with handling his orders. Safest course of action would be to indeed get rid of her and not risk mad woman going against his orders to stay hidden but the way he will treat her would not only break any trust Lady Malfoy had in him but also be example how Lord Voldemort treated his most faithful follower that has gotten imprisoned for serving him. That wouldn't do. With the more subtle approach he planned to take fear his death Eaters felt for him could be exploited by the light side. To avoid it, he will change it, adjust his treatment of those bellow him. They will revere their Lord, fear him steel but not dread, they will believe him their sole salvation. The dark Lord will set Bellatrix as an example that he cares for those who prove themselves even if they are not so useful to his cause anymore. Others will long to achieve status Bellatrix will bear, apply themselves to their task times more fuelled by ambition then they were by just fear of failure. And maybe he will find a role for Bellatrix in new world of his creation.

"Do not fear Lady Malfoy. I am a merciful Lord, I will not throw away my most faithful"

Chapter Text

He did not visit the boy's dreams even though he felt boy's turbulent emotions once the night came, sign of his nightmares no doubt. Now the happenings of the last time he saw little Potter were just a singular lapse of judgement as his mind was still mudded after retrieving a horcrux.  

Lord Voldemort needed not to witness same scene over and over again each night to watch his enemy's suffering and guilt, thank you. 

After all there were many things needing his attention as he came to realise. The Dark Lord believed himself more intelligent than others and to remain so he needed to acknowledge that reunion with one of horcruxes restored clarity of his mind. Something he had not come to realise before.  

Now when recalling the past it was truly almost impossible to miss how he became more and more unstable, losing his cool and succumbing to his anger, only emotion he still felt. 

Before he divided his soul anger was no doubt emotion he felt most vividly but it was not the only one. Tom Riddle never felt much but he remembered pride from mastering spells and satisfaction from work well done.  

There were obviously many more negative emotions as distaste, hate or disappointment to mention few. But this last years before he visited Potters he felt nothing more than anger and need for action. He was impatient, extremely demanding and terrifying. Not a charismatic leader he fashioned himself to be in his teenage years.  

It was a shame he came to realise it so late. Nevertheless it left him with much work to be done. Lord Voldemort was so invested in war he actually never claimed his Lordship. Maybe a mistake he should be grateful for now as it gave him opportunity to forge a new identity he needed. 

The cause required more than support of a known dark wizards and band of fugitives. New allays would be most useful but who would join Lord Voldemort, man who murdered with cold blood not only muggles but also his own kind? For that reason he needed to fashion himself a new name, new lordship and new history.  

He could still make use of Voldemort's name if he claimed to be his son as it would make him sole heir to Gaunt surname as everyone but Dumbledore and his order believed the Dark Lord to be dead. And even with the position the old fool carried his and boy's words were not enough to make public believe it.  

Yes, he could claim to be his own son. But people would still fear him. Dumbledore would still try to jeopardise his plans even when they would not lead to spill of blood. And he could never be certain his enemies would not find some proof of his identity. That would be overconfidence and he suffered its consequences once already and it was once too much. 

Lord Voldemort needed to soothe souls of members of order and would do so better than sacrificing a war? He was already set on not starting one but no one had to know. They could fashion a peace treaty signed  by both the light and dark side. To make them believe stopping his efforts in starting another war they would demand something up most important from them and yet something they would be prepared to sacrifice for the greater good Dumbledore so loved. 

— 

Severus stood on the threshold of ritual room in his Lord's manor. When he saw the building for the first time since the renovation he was greatly surprised. Place was much different than what one could expect from the Dark Lord. Of course wing with main purpose was hosting gatherings for their Lord's servants was  well.. dark.  

Filled with black, dark green and crimson red, aura masterfully curated to cause distress in anyone beside the house owner. Since then he saw slow changes taking place. More natural light, tiniest bit more comfortable chairs, a painting here and there. Lately he wondered about these changes as they came not only in form of house decor but also in Lord Voldemort. 

It has been few weeks since he witnessed a cruciatus curse thrown during the meeting. The Dark Lord was still strict and demanding but now this punishments were more appropriate to its recipient offence. Only few of closest followers were allowed in Lord's change of plans to avoid war, Severus one of them.  

The times were changing, Lord Voldemort was once again the man he has sworn his allegiance to. It left the man thorn for how could he forgive the murder of Lily and yet seeing in Voldemort a man who saw potential in introvert teenager and took him under his wing.  

When potioneer received summon to private part of mansion restricted only to its master he expected mostly punishment. He was ready for their Lord to finally snap and torture someone to insanity and it happened to be him. How surprised he was when he walked through the door separating this part of house from the rest.  

Soft warm wood, big windows, beautiful artworks on the walls and plush carpets. It felt homely. He could smell faintly wood, fireplace and lavender, gone this septic kind of smell inlaid that was present in followers wing. It was a sign of such gentleness he would never expected of man, well maybe when he joined but not now. 

Severus followed his summon further in the wing, it led him to opened door and Dark Lord waiting for him, standing in the centre of magical circle. 

— 

"My Lord" he dared not to enter the ritual room without Voldemort's approval. From threshold he could see stone monument with big stone patera, most used to offer blood used to strengthen magic.  

"Come on in Severus, do not fret. You are not here to serve as my offer" Black haired man was certainly that neither his face and posture nor his mind spoke of fear that he was to die here in name of his master and yet he knew. Lord Voldemort stood barefoot in centre of circle drawn with chalk on floor made from stone so black it seemed to swallow the light. On the circles contour there were candles, defining corners of the pentagram.  

He tried to take a subtle look on runes but there was not much he could see without the other wizard noticing. "How may I assist My Lord?" He questioned. The best way to gather what was about to happen without risking dark wizard's ire.  

"You are to stand and wait for me to signal for you. I do not require your participation in ritual. Your input will be most appreciated after I finish it." With that he signed with his pale hand to the area Severus would be required to stand in during the ritual took place. 

When he neared the place he noticed another circle, this time one he knew purpose of. It was used for negating any magic entering from the outside of it but also any magic slipping out of it. Nothing unusual truly, just precaution measure for safety both ritual observers and participants as any magic may destabilise sensitive composition of runes and to protect observers from any unexpected effects of conducted ritual. 

The moment he stepped inside protective circle his Lord began. 

— 

Lord Voldemort knew he was not capable of feeling remorse. He may have regained emotions to some degree by his horcruxes proximity but they were not near allowing him this type of emotions and truthfully he didn't want to be capable of feeling it. The ritual he intended to use was of his own design, made to reabsorb soul pieces he placed in objects without need of emotions. 

At the beginning he considered other options of regaining his humane visage but all were flawed. Illusions were easily found and dispelled even by accident.  

Body transfiguration unstable and suitable only for short periods without negative effects and using Polyjuice potion, even the one brewed personally by him or Severus with elongated time of use was easy to notice. Especially since there was no doubt that Dumbledore and his man will be observing him and looking for anything that will prove that he is Voldemort. 

It left him with reabsorbing his horcruxes as only appropriate solution. Well he still had few others than what he will be using today so after all it was not he will be mortal once again. Just slightly less immortal.  

Once Severus was inside his circle, Lord Voldemort called "Nagini, my dearest. Come and join me" As loyal companion that she were she came quickly gliding across dark flooring, her scales shining beautifully in candles light. 

"I have come my masseter. Did Nagini finally deserved to eat a human for dinner?" She hissed looking at only other human present in the room and shifting in direction of now stiff looking potioneer. 

"No, not yet. He has yet to anger me. I need you for the ritual" 

"Smart human for requesting your protectors presence for ritual. You are weak, I will protect you" Voldemort let out a sight but indulged the snake for she could turn incredibly persistent in sharing her opinion of his weakness. Nagini shifted to him and coiled near his feet. He took her in his arms and run his hand over smooth scales.  

"The ritual shouldn't hurt you more than the previous one you participated in. I need to take what I placed in you then" 

"But Nagini does not want to lose it. I feel it connecting me to you. It is my now and Nagini is a predator that does not give away hers prey" 

"I want you to let it go, treat it as a prey you could hunt again, don't you enjoy the chase after all? We will not lose our bond, sweetest mine. Some things may change but you will still be my one and only familiar" He spoke slowly, placing coiled snake in ritual bowl and once again moved his hand in soothing motion along her body. 

"Hmm, very well master. But Nagini wants to hunt later" He could hear pouting in her voice. 

"I will find a deer for you to hunt" That seemed to improve her mood. 

"Yesss, thank you master" With the snake satisfied and arranged to his liking Lord Voldemort took out  Gaunt ring and Helga Hufflepuff's cup and placed on Nagini's sides. Then he moved away from patera and started chanting spell. 

Half way through it he felt pain in his chest, he took out a small silver dagger, same as the one he used to cut his soul and sliced his robe leaving him naked. Next he carved a precise lines on his chest, arms and legs. Now the floor was covered with blood flowing freely from his body but the amount not enough to make him loose cautiones.  

Once he finished bloody lines started to faintly shine with blue light as did horcruxes placed in centre of ritual. As his voice grown tired the light separated from snake and objects. Three bubbles of light in different sizes floated to him and started merging with piece of soul still resigning within his body.  

Shine surrounded wizard completely and he felt terrible pain, times stronger than when he created horcruxes. It seemed to last hours, days of suffering he felt in every nerve of his body. 

Slowly the sensation dissipated and all he felt was cold floor he was lying on. He held out his hand in direction potioneer should be standing. "Severus..." He heard man move towards him and felt his hands on himself, helping him into seating position.  

Voldemort felt identification magic charging through his body and a moment later a potion pressed against his lips. The last thing he saw were Severus's hands covering him in summoned robes. 

Chapter Text

Severus observed the ritual with great interest, Lord Voldemort's magic although terrifying was always a sight to witness. It was endogenous, truly innovative and revolutionary magic.  

Precision of his moves, clear incantations of spells and effortless confidence, it was beautiful and he was enchanted. When light enveloped the Dark Lord the heart wrenching scream tore through the room.  

Potioneer controlled the impulse to jump to action, to help whoever was suffering. He knew that would be impossible till the ritual ended. Interfering now could as well kill both wizards.  

It took almost half of hour for the light to dissipate and what he saw the stunned him. On the floor lied a man. Not a serpentine creation without a nose but a true human with hair and nose, with proportions of a Greek statue.  

"Severus..." The wizard barely heard weak voice and immediately approached a ritual circle. He was in hurry but did not forget to check ritual area for active magic. Deeming it safe to enter he has fallen on his knees next to Voldemort.  

After confirming him not bleeding and still breathing he moved wizard to sitting position, better for condition checking spell he casted.  

There was no immediate danger to life of the Dark Lord, ritual aftereffects similar to these of prolonged cruciatus curse and magic depletion.  

Severus summoned draught of dreamless sleep and held it against the man's lips. He needed no prompting to eagerly drink offered potion. Potioneer vanished empty flask and summoned a cloak to cover his Lord. 

— 

Severus Snape stood before a problem. His Lord needed to be moved to bed. But where it was? During his walk through this part of house no door gave any sort of sign to lead to bedroom.  

He could check one by one but Voldemort would certainly notice his snooping through private wing and potioneer was not so sure that medical help would be reason enough to satisfy the wizard.  

And that is how very arrogant Severus Snape came to stand before a snake. 

"Your master needs to be moved to bed. Show me where it is" He felt immeasurably stupid talking to animal, no certainty it even understood what he said.  

It seemed tired, eyes narrowed with sleepiness, but as he mentioned Lord Voldemort he saw snake slowly uncoil it's body from how it was carefully positioned for ritual. 

With lethargic movements Nagini slithered out of the room stopping in the corridor. Severus levitated unconscious body up and followed the snake further inside house.  

They did not walk for long. Three maybe four pairs of door later Nagini stopped and pushed her snoot into door that opened, probably charmed to let her enter wherever she desired so.  

Together they entered bedroom, Severus considered very briefly what could happen to unwelcome guests but it seemed that bedroom was either not separately warded or his Lord already keyed him into them. 

The room probably shouldn't be anything unexpected seeing how different this part of house was but extremely looking armchairs situated in front of fire place came as a surprise. He lowered Voldemort into soft bed lined with highest quality silks that smelled faintly of fresh wash and lavender. 

Severus once again checked life parameters of unconscious wizard and then spelled a nutrient potion straight into this master stomach and finally sat in most comfortable chair he ever had pleasure of sitting at. 

— 

Lord Voldemort never drank alcohol but he very much remember how it felt to wake up completely hangover as a Tom Riddle and he could not understand how it happened that he woke up in his bed with the worst hangover of he ever went through. 

He remembered dreaming of vividly green eyes and mop of black hair but not a thing from before. There were those flashbacks of his father's face, one of an older woman he was sure he have seen before and one face of someone never deemed important enough to properly look them in the eyes.  

One fact connected all of these faces, he murdered them. But this face he saw in dream was something else. These mesmerising green eyes and hair, golden skin and cute scrunching of a nose and these lips... He did not remember who that was but he will do everything to remember them. 

He opened his eyes and saw a familiar face. Severus. It must have been him but he seemed so...  

"Severus" man's body tensed and he looked expectantly at Voldemort, while his attention on just woken wizard. 

"Yes, my Lord?" 

"Why are you so old?" 

"...Pardon me?" Mix of emotions passed his face but very quickly he settled on neutral expression. Voldemort recognised occlumency training in that action. Young man he remembered was not yet so good at hiding his emotions and he briefly thought that it was such a shame that this man has lost his innocence, no confidence to show his emotions in presence of his master and became a mask with no feelings of his own. 

"You are pardoned Severus, now bring me some water" 

Potioneer hurried to summon a glass and fill it with aguamenti . The Dark Lord accepted glass passed to him and he looked at the other man from above it. 

It was a weird feeling to see both current and young face of the man, overlapping in his mind. He could swear that he has seen young Severus Snape barely few days ago but in his slowly returning memories he saw potioneer maybe few hours ago as an older man. 

Severus was in turn staring at him, dark eyes on pale face were observing him with intensity.  He looked like he was contemplating the best course of action now that he was stuck with a new version of his master. Finally he settled on something. 

"Ritual, my Lord, was a success although it caused extreme magical fatigue and overstimulation of nerves in your limbs. I have administered sleeping draught and nutrient potion to counter aftereffects but I suspect they will hold for few days. I advise continuing treatment with potions. One more sleeping draught should be enough as your core regenerates extremely fast but considering new status of your body consulting Narcissa about plan to ensure full functionality would be the best course of action." 

The Dark Lord moved his eyes to the wall and thought about these words slowly sipping water. 

"Hmmm... I will consider your advice. Thank you" These words startled other man. Voldemort motioned with his hand to the door, sending Severus away. 

"It is nothing my Lord. This servant is happy to prove useful" 

— 

Severus hurried to apparition point. He was very lucky it was Saturday and he had no lessons, maybe with a bit of sneaking he will avoid Albus till Monday. He was in no hurry to talk to older wizard, he did not want to think about what took place these few past hours. About sixty something year old man he one thought could become his parental figure looking not a day over thirty. 

That night when he lied in his bed safe in Hogwarts he didn't want think about unconscious Dark Lord whispering Lilly's son name and humming in satisfied way after probably witnessing another tormenting nightmare of this insufferable boy he sworn to protect. He didn't want to think about how he considered killing the man while he was unconscious for safety of the boy with eyes of woman he loved and face of man he hated. 

Chapter Text

Harry woke up drenched in sweat.  

He reached his hand a wand and cast tempus charm. Raven haired boy squinted his eyes to read thin shining blue letters hovering in the air.  

Boy moved carefully, stone floor nicely cooled his overheated body. He walked into the shower and stood there motionless, not thinking, just trying to calm his heart.  

After nights like that it was nearly impossible to fall asleep once again and just staying in bed for next few hours would make his mind wander back to the nightmare.  

His trunk, battered after this five years of usage and unkind treatment Uncle Vernon had used to move it, was holding everything that belonged to him except his wand and Hedwig.  

He knew inside of it by heart, Hermione would say that he had just thrown everything he had inside and shook it but he knew this mess.  

It was his. After years of not leaving any proof of his existence at Dursleys this was evidence that he lived, was there and it was his space. Every wrinkle in his (most Dudley's cast-off) clothes and lost homework from the first year that he would randomly find while looking for something else.  

And all of this were treasures, things truly his like sweaters he received from Mrs Weasley, school robes, even stupid hat e never wore after the first year. All of these things had a special place in his heart just like they had it in his trunk. 

But most important of these all were pictures of his parents, the Marauders map and his invisible cloak. The latter two were of course useful but even if he were never to use them it would not matter. Just holding them made his heart warm like he imagined he would feel if his parents could hold him.  

Throwing a cape over himself he excused himself from Gryffindor tower. He fancied a lonely walk tonight. 

He wandered through the castle, often gazing at the moon and stating how beautifully looked its light when it hit Hogwarts stained glass windows. He looked at place that became his only true home but failed to keep him and anyone close to him safe.  

Unknowingly he reached corridor near headmaster's office and noticed voices. Professor Dumbledore was walking alongside Snape in his direction. 

Harry hid being one of many armours placed along walls and focused on quite conversation the two of men had. 

"So what have you witnessed Severus?" 

"As I have already said I cannot tell you any details. There was a ritual he conducted. Even before he was acting unlike him but now it is extreme" 

"Should we prepare for war coming soon?" Asked headmaster with sober expression. 

"No, I don't think so. At least not type of war you are thinking of." 

"And his plans for mister Potter, have they changed together with him?" 

"His desire to kill the brat has not changed. Personally I think it is what motivates his change. The Dark Lord dos not let anyone in his all plans but I do not doubt that he prepares something special for your golden boy."  

Dumbledore's face soured but Snape continued. 

"The Dark Lord has a way into dreams of the boy, latest incident only confirmed your suspicions and now there is no doubt that he enjoys watching Potter suffer." 

"Very well then Severus. We will plan and prepare the best we can for anything there is to come. Now there is nothing else that we can do than try to protect Harry" 

— 

Harry get back to his bed as the sun began to ascend the sky. He had maybe half an hour before his dormmates began waking for the classes. His ming spiralled over conversation he overheard. Could these two peaceful dreams he received be the signs of change the greasy bat was talking about? 
 
But Snape was convinced that Voldemort wanted his death now more than ever but he could not imagine what terrible plan for your enemy's demise began with sending him pleasant dreams. Especially if it was as they suspected, that Voldemort was actually not only sending him dreams but also watched his nightmares like some kind of cursed television show. Well, the wanker was probably not above having a laugh over Harry's suffering so it would check. 

His musing was interrupted by Ron's alarm clock and following unhappy groan of his mate. 

"Come on Ron. Hermione is probably already waiting for us at the common room." 

"Getting up sounds so easy but of all you should know how awful and hard it can be" 

"Yeah, sure sleeping beauty. Do you need a princes kiss to wake you up? Should we call Draco to help you, your highness?" Nevil's shy and some bit louder laugh from Dean and Seamus filled the room.  That seemed to wake ginger effectively. 

"Oi! Why would you even suggest some slimy Slytherin? Am I not worthy of some beautiful lady like Cho or something?" 

"Well, one certainly can dream but wasn't it you who wouldn't shout up about dragons last year?" said Dean, and the horrified expression of redhead caused another round of laughs that even Harry joined. 

For a while it felt like everything was alright. That no one was trying to kill him and no one in wizarding world believed him a liar. But as everyone prepared for the lessons the moment disappeared and Harry was once again the wirdo. 

Together with Ron he picked up Hermionie in the common room and set out for this week's first day of lessons. 

— 

It was of no surprise that he has earned himself another week of detentions with Umbridge, probably blinking was the reason now. By the time he reached Gryffindor tower it was really late, it was another day that he could do nothing else than just go to bed and hope that this time he would get to sleep more than mere few hours. 

He once again thought of the peaceful dreams he had this weekend and wished he could have them once again. Even with knowledge that they were connected with some sneaky plan Voldemort had he would prefer them nay day over Umbridge and night filled with nightmares. 

So when he finally laid on his bed, head filled with warm room smelling of lavender he was very pleased as he opened his eyes and saw familiar room. 

"Hello, Harry"