Better Than Cookies {COMPLETE}

A/N: Sorry for the delay. I'm a flake. As usual, hope you all enjoy. Feel free to comment.

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Ginny Weasley patiently sat in her train compartment staring down at her lap. Around her, her compartment mates were frantically whispering to each other. Most of them were huddled together against on wall. Their eyes flicked from the impossible darkness outside the frosty window to the closed compartment door.

“Why is this happening?” Someone whimpered to no one in particular.

Ron, from his seat to her left, glanced at the huddled group and shrugged. A blood-curdled scream echoed down the train making all the inhabitants freeze. Ron glanced at her with a smirk. She returned the look.

“I don’t understand,” someone whispered, “dementors don’t ever swarm like this.”

Ginny looked at the speaker, a small freshman, and glanced out the window without speaking. From the corner of her eye she saw Ron shrug. She slanted him and cautionary look and elbowed him. He nodded.

“It’s got to be you-know-who. Who else could make them attack us. He probably wants Harry.” Ron gave the group a very convincing look of fear. He even started to stand.

Ginny grabbed his arm and made a show of whispering to him frantically. Loud enough for the other inhabitants of the compartment to hear, she said, “Ron! Please don’t leave me. I’m scared.” She managed a few tears as she jerked him back to the seat beside her.

Between her and the window, he sighed heavily and fingered his wand. The scowl on his face never slipped. Ginny turned to look at him and dropped chin as if she were crying. Instead her eyes met his and dropped to the edge of the bench they sat on. Just visible, the edge of a large clay pot peeked out from under the seat. A pot which had held essence of Nehjera. Her lips curved into a chilling smile.

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Dumbledore stood at the window of his office in Hogwarts, silent and watchful. It was possible to see the train station at Hogsmeade, still dark. The train had not yet arrived. He frowned and turned to Fawkes who was watching him carefully.

“The train appears to be late, my friend.” He shook his head and tossed another worried look toward the window before walking toward his desk. From the corner of his eye, he watched Fawkes to see if the phoenix believed his concern. It was impossible to tell. The powerful firebird cast a dark, unblinking gaze toward the window.

*Yes. Perhaps, the Order should check on the students.* The phoenix’s words were like a whisper in the headmaster’s mind. Fawkes looked away from the window to study him with human intelligence.

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully and stood up from his desk. After casting one more look toward the window, he swept from the office. Fawkes watched him go with a guarded look. The second the door clicked shut, the phoenix’s eyes took on an obvious look of disgust. His feather’s ruffled as he shook his head. With a burst of flames, the bird disappeared from the large stone castle.

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Harry opened his eyes to swirling dark shapes. The token fear and sadness made it obvious the train was still under attack by the dementors, but his emotions were taken over by a different emotion all together. Fury, pure and unadulterated, pulsed through his veins. He glanced at the pale, terrified face of Draco Malfoy who hovered over him. The blonde stopped slapping his face when he met his grey eyes. Draco’s eyes widened comically and he quickly moved back from him.

Harry could only imagine how angry he must look to make the Slytherin prince act in such a way with dementors filling the compartment.

“Expecto patronum.” The words were stated in a flat voice, devoid of all emotion.

The hordes of dementors let out a deafening scream and the room filled with blinding light as the dark shapes exploded. Like a wall of fire, Harry’s spell flowed out of the ruined compartment and down the hall, destroying every dementor in its path.

As the high screaming sound faded, the others in the compartment turned to stare at him. Harry’s eyes found Hermione who appeared to be alright aside from cuts and bruises. Draco knelt next to her in much the same condition. They both watched him warily. Harry again wondered how he must look to make them so afraid.

His eyes next moved to a large shape crouched a few feet from Draco. The wolf simply stared at him. Harry looked over the creature and smiled coldly. “Fenrir Greyback.” He tipped his head to the side when the werewolf nodded. “Good. Avada kedavra.” A bright pulse of green light sped toward the silver wolf.

Two things happened at once. Draco screamed and the spell vanished before touching the werewolf. Draco gaped at Fenrir as the wolf looked back at him. After a second, they both turned to look at Harry.

Harry was not looking at them, however. His eyes followed the line of magic to a cloaked figure standing in the doorway. From beneath the hood, blazing red eyes were glaring at him dangerously. A sound like angry buzzing filled his head disorientating him. Harry shook his head, touching his forehead. With a growl, he raised narrowed eyes to Voldemort.

“Get out of my head.” Harry’s words seemed to surprise the Dark Lord who dropped his wand tip an inch. Taking advantage of the moment, Harry sent a disarming hex. The spell had the desired affect, throwing the Dark Lord backwards into the wall of the aisle. Harry’s knees gave out when Voldemort hit the wall. He knelt on the floor gasping as if it was his breath that had been knocked out of him rather than the Dark Lord’s.

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Tonks stood beside the Hogwarts express watching the children descend from the train in small groups. Even the older children huddled together, glancing around apprehensively. Tonks kept her eyes peeled for any sign of dementors. Beside her, Molly Weasley watched the end of the train where Dumbledore had vanished. Moments after entering, he emerged with a worried look on his ancient face. It was obvious he had not found Harry Potter.

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Hermione sat at the dining room table surrounded by Deatheaters. With so many people, at least thirty, it seemed impossible for the room to be so quiet. She looked across the table to Draco Malfoy. He sat perfectly still staring down at his plate. His blonde hair fell forward enough to cover his eyes. To his right sat Fenrir Greyback who was alternately looking between the small blonde and the Dark Lord.

Lucius Malfoy sent his son a dark look, but didn’t speak. He, too, kept his gaze on the Dark Lord. Hermione turned her head to look at Voldemort. His red eyes were fastened on the person to his left. Two seats up from her sat Harry Potter. He sat tense and angry, glaring back at the Dark Lord. He looked down at his plate and then back at Voldemort.

“Eat,” Voldemort ordered without breaking eye contact. It sounded more like a challenge than an invitation.

Harry sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. It was obvious from the set his chin he had no intention of eating willingly. “I’m not hungry.” His stomach chose that moment to growl loudly. Harry didn’t so much as blink.

Voldemort’s face darkened at the lie. “You can eat voluntarily or I can make you. You won’t like my methods,” the dark Lord growled.

Harry’s eyes blazed brightly. Without warning, his plate exploded in hundreds of pieces sending glass slivers and food toward anyone sitting nearby. Almost as if he anticipated the act, Voldemort put up a shield to protect everyone from the mess. His hand lashed out to grab Harry’s upper arm. As he stood, he jerked Harry up from his chair to stand beside him.

“We will be retiring early, it seems.” Voldemort looked down into Harry’s furious face before sweeping the table with a meaningful gaze. The look clearly said ‘don’t interfere’. Several of the people at the table twitched, but no one moved or said a word as the dark Lord swept from the room with Harry Potter in tow.

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Harry started in the second the dining room door closed behind them. “Let me go, Voldemort,” he spat. He dug in his heels when the Dark Lord ignored him.

Voldemort whipped around and spat out what sounded like a curse. Ropes appeared around Harry’s wrists and ankles and a gag cut off the angry retort before it could be uttered. Voldemort nodded and pulled the struggling bundle into his arms, walking down the hall again.

Harry was livid. He glared holes into the side of Voldemort’s head and thought of every horrible curse he could use on the Dark Lord. When he jerked his body suddenly, Voldemort paused and glared down at him. Growling something under his breath, he simply readjusted his burden and continued walking. The new position was a bad choice. It placed one of the Dark Lord’s hands low on his waist and the other high on his thigh. Every step made the hands rub against him in a unintentionally suggestive way.

Harry fought to ignore the sensation and focus on staying angry. Against his will, his body began to relax. As he relaxed, the Dark’s Lord’s breathing became shallow and fast. Harry looked up when Voldemort looked down at him. His eyes went wide at the look in the ruby gaze. Suddenly, Harry couldn’t breathe past his rising panic.

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Voldemort looked down at the only one he had wanted in his bed since the bonding ritual. Harry looked up at him wide-eyed and frightened and he felt a flood of anger. He slammed a wave of magic into the door of his bedroom just ahead. The door sprang open obediently. When he looked down at Harry again, the teen was staring at the furnishings of the room they were quickly approaching. The small body tensed immediately and began struggling again.

Voldemort let out a low growl and stepped into the room, slamming the door shut and warding it behind them. He strode over to the bed and dropped his bundle. Harry immediately attempted to roll off the other side of the bed. A muttered spell had him splayed in the center of the bed. The glare he got was half anger and half terror. Voldemort smiled coldly.

“Do you know how long I have waited to have you here?” Not really expecting an answer, the Dark Lord looked up in surprise when Harry spoke.

“You mean how long you’ve waited to torture and kill me?” Harry let out a humorless laugh. “I’d say, since I was born, but that’s perverted even for you.”

Voldemort’s eyes flashed and he waved his wand. Harry gasped as his shirt disappeared. Voldemort smirked.

“You aren’t nearly as brave when you aren’t clothed.” He tipped his head to the side and flicked his wand again. His eyes darkened as Harry lay on the bed in only his pants and socks. Harry’s shirt and trousers appeared on a nearby chair neatly folded.

Harry blinked owlishly, visibly shivering now. “What do you want form me, Voldemort? I’m not telling you anything about the Order.” He raised his chin defiantly, an action that would have looked more impressive if he weren’t lying nearly bare on the bed of his enemy.

Voldemort tipped his head back and laughed. He looked at Harry in genuine amusement and saw the confusion written in the green eyes. “The Order? I already know everything I ever wanted to know about your precious Order. Thanks to you.” The smile disappeared from his face.

Harry frowned and shook his head. “That’s impossible. I closed the bond we had through my scar.” He glared defiantly. “You’re lying.”

Voldemort gave him a slow smile as he looked up his body. “We shall see.”

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Harry watched the Dark Lord lazily wave his wand and vanish his own clothing. Pale and perfect skin covered hard muscles. With the grace of a great cat, Voldemort climbed onto the bed and crawled toward him. It was like being stalked by something dangerous and hungry. Harry fought down his panic and again tried to fight the magic holding him in place. It wouldn’t budge. The first touch to his ankle made him nearly scream.

“This won’t achieve anything,” Harry stated in his most matter-of-fact voice.

The Dark Lord ignored him.

Harry used his magic to shove at the bonds and when that failed he tried to push Voldemort away from him. His magic didn’t so much as budge the larger man in it’s weakened state. The same lethargy that had been dragging him down for days came back with a vengeance. It couldn’t even raise his voice to cry out when Voldemort’s hands stroked his inner thighs. He just sighed in resignation and squeezed his eyes shut.

“You are much better at this…” The voice whispered through his mind and seemed to poke at something on the edge of his memory. It was like prodding a bruise. Harry gasped.

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A/N: All errors are my own. I recently realized, for a H/V fic, they have yet to actually shag. Wow. I'll have to make it crazy good when they finally get to it.