Dream a little Dream
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Voldemort
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
22
Views:
36,700
Reviews:
122
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Voldemort
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
22
Views:
36,700
Reviews:
122
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
2
Disclaimer: not mine, thank god
Background information:
Harry is Sixteen, 5’3 due to malnutrition and kind of neurotic.
Harry was surprised when he was gently handled by the Dark Lord. It still hurt, but the man could have made it a great deal worse. Harry found himself in some kind of infirmary, being laid down on a bed that looked exactly like the ones at Hogwarts. The man who bustled up to him wasn’t Madame Pomfrey though. Harry was stunned when the Dark Lord sat beside him and watched quietly as the man set about healing Harry.
As the man diagnosed all of his problems he chattered on about himself to Harry. His name was Dr. Howitzer (call me Moe!), he had gotten his degree at MMU (Medical Magic University), how did Harry like Quidditch, what a shame that Harry hadn’t been able to keep up over the summer, and so on until Harry forgot about what the Doctor was doing.
Voldemort was smiling when Harry remembered that he was there and turned to look at him. “Sir?” Harry asked softly, “Why are you going to the trouble of healing me?” Voldemort looked thoughtful and replied, “I’ll tell you in the morning green eyes.”
Harry could only think that it had been a very strange day indeed, and took the potion that Dr. Howitzer offered. As he drifted he heard Voldemort talking to the doctor and he felt himself being lifted again. He was muzzy enough to be glad for the warmth that the Dark Lord offered.
Voldemort walked down the hall on auto – pilot, staring at the teen curling into his chest. His death Eaters stared in disbelief at the smile teasing at his lips as he opened the door to his room and carried Harry over the threshold.
Harry was already ready for bed, courtesy of the doctor, and Voldemort tucked him in and went to go take care of some matters that he wanted to oversee. He was confident that while it was only four o’clock in the afternoon Harry would sleep until morning, and he had to think of how to explain things to his young mate.
Harry tossed and turned in his sleep, fighting off a dream. It was the dream that Voldemort had mentioned earlier. Finally Harry settled down and let the dream – or rather prophecy - run its course.
A woman who bore a striking resemblance to Trelawney was sitting in what looked like the Slytherin common rooms, deep in discussion with someone else. Harry couldn’t see who it was, try as he might. The woman’s voice got deeper and deeper until suddenly she grabbed her companion and began to rasp at him, again much as Trelawney in third year. Up until then he had not understood what was being said, but the prophesy came through loud and clear.
Born the seventh month will be your mate
And hard will be his life
If he does not stray from you before you claim him
You will love each other until the end of time
Mark him as yours early on
And he will be yours forever.
The dream tapered off just before Voldemort entered the room. He looked at Harry for a long moment before going into the bathroom to change for the night. He came out and lifted the sheet to crawl next to Harry. Voldemort hesitated for a second before pulling Harry to his chest and tucking the teen’s head beneath his chin. As he drifted off he smiled as he remembered the prophesy that his friend Cassandra had delivered for him. She had the unparalleled ability to willingly deliver prophesies, unlike most other people with “the sight”. He missed her terribly, but Dumbledore and Grindewald had conspired together and decided that she was too dangerous to live.
In the morning, Harry was astonished to be allowed to awake in stages, and even more shocked to find that he was warm. The Dursleys had taken away his bedroom when he got back and put him back in his cold, lonely cupboard with his trunk. Luckily he had told Hedwig to stay at Hogwarts; else the Durlesys might have done something unthinkable to her to get even with him. Suddenly Harry was wide awake as he remembered the events that had transpired the day before. He realized with a jolt that awoke Voldemort that he was in bed with that man.
Then he remembered the prophesy that he had heard the night before and, not being an imbecile, realized that whoever the woman had been talking to was his mate.
He looked up at Voldemort and thought, ‘my god, I’m mated to my parent’s killer. What would they say?’ He started to shake as he thought about all of the people he would disappoint. His parents, Sirius, Remus, Dumbledore, the list went on. He was vaguely aware of Voldemort getting out of the bed and getting something, but a panic attack is hard to think through.
Voldemort was worried at his mate’s shaking and got up to get him a calming potion. He poured it into Harry’s mouth, but it was obvious that Harry wasn’t going to swallow on his own so the Dark Lord began to massage Harry’s throat and coax the potion on it’s merry way down to Harry’s stomach.
Harry began to be more aware of his surroundings and started to feel better. He looked up at Voldemort and asked “Now what? Remus and Dumbledore and oh god all of my friends will hate me!”
Voldemort looked at him seriously and said, “Before we worry about that, why don’t I tell you why you’re here.”
Harry nodded and Voldemort grinned. “If you want the story, you have to sit on my lap.” He decided. Harry yelped and said “Nuh uh, that’s blackmail!” Voldemort looked at him for a few moments and Harry said, “oh. Right, you’re the Dark Lord.”
“Very good Harry! Now come here and sit on my lap.”
Harry sighed and wandered over to Voldemort. Voldemort, still grinning, pulled Harry over his lap so that he was sitting sideways and could face Voldemort as he talked.
“Now, what do you know about your mark?”
Background information:
Harry is Sixteen, 5’3 due to malnutrition and kind of neurotic.
Harry was surprised when he was gently handled by the Dark Lord. It still hurt, but the man could have made it a great deal worse. Harry found himself in some kind of infirmary, being laid down on a bed that looked exactly like the ones at Hogwarts. The man who bustled up to him wasn’t Madame Pomfrey though. Harry was stunned when the Dark Lord sat beside him and watched quietly as the man set about healing Harry.
As the man diagnosed all of his problems he chattered on about himself to Harry. His name was Dr. Howitzer (call me Moe!), he had gotten his degree at MMU (Medical Magic University), how did Harry like Quidditch, what a shame that Harry hadn’t been able to keep up over the summer, and so on until Harry forgot about what the Doctor was doing.
Voldemort was smiling when Harry remembered that he was there and turned to look at him. “Sir?” Harry asked softly, “Why are you going to the trouble of healing me?” Voldemort looked thoughtful and replied, “I’ll tell you in the morning green eyes.”
Harry could only think that it had been a very strange day indeed, and took the potion that Dr. Howitzer offered. As he drifted he heard Voldemort talking to the doctor and he felt himself being lifted again. He was muzzy enough to be glad for the warmth that the Dark Lord offered.
Voldemort walked down the hall on auto – pilot, staring at the teen curling into his chest. His death Eaters stared in disbelief at the smile teasing at his lips as he opened the door to his room and carried Harry over the threshold.
Harry was already ready for bed, courtesy of the doctor, and Voldemort tucked him in and went to go take care of some matters that he wanted to oversee. He was confident that while it was only four o’clock in the afternoon Harry would sleep until morning, and he had to think of how to explain things to his young mate.
Harry tossed and turned in his sleep, fighting off a dream. It was the dream that Voldemort had mentioned earlier. Finally Harry settled down and let the dream – or rather prophecy - run its course.
A woman who bore a striking resemblance to Trelawney was sitting in what looked like the Slytherin common rooms, deep in discussion with someone else. Harry couldn’t see who it was, try as he might. The woman’s voice got deeper and deeper until suddenly she grabbed her companion and began to rasp at him, again much as Trelawney in third year. Up until then he had not understood what was being said, but the prophesy came through loud and clear.
Born the seventh month will be your mate
And hard will be his life
If he does not stray from you before you claim him
You will love each other until the end of time
Mark him as yours early on
And he will be yours forever.
The dream tapered off just before Voldemort entered the room. He looked at Harry for a long moment before going into the bathroom to change for the night. He came out and lifted the sheet to crawl next to Harry. Voldemort hesitated for a second before pulling Harry to his chest and tucking the teen’s head beneath his chin. As he drifted off he smiled as he remembered the prophesy that his friend Cassandra had delivered for him. She had the unparalleled ability to willingly deliver prophesies, unlike most other people with “the sight”. He missed her terribly, but Dumbledore and Grindewald had conspired together and decided that she was too dangerous to live.
In the morning, Harry was astonished to be allowed to awake in stages, and even more shocked to find that he was warm. The Dursleys had taken away his bedroom when he got back and put him back in his cold, lonely cupboard with his trunk. Luckily he had told Hedwig to stay at Hogwarts; else the Durlesys might have done something unthinkable to her to get even with him. Suddenly Harry was wide awake as he remembered the events that had transpired the day before. He realized with a jolt that awoke Voldemort that he was in bed with that man.
Then he remembered the prophesy that he had heard the night before and, not being an imbecile, realized that whoever the woman had been talking to was his mate.
He looked up at Voldemort and thought, ‘my god, I’m mated to my parent’s killer. What would they say?’ He started to shake as he thought about all of the people he would disappoint. His parents, Sirius, Remus, Dumbledore, the list went on. He was vaguely aware of Voldemort getting out of the bed and getting something, but a panic attack is hard to think through.
Voldemort was worried at his mate’s shaking and got up to get him a calming potion. He poured it into Harry’s mouth, but it was obvious that Harry wasn’t going to swallow on his own so the Dark Lord began to massage Harry’s throat and coax the potion on it’s merry way down to Harry’s stomach.
Harry began to be more aware of his surroundings and started to feel better. He looked up at Voldemort and asked “Now what? Remus and Dumbledore and oh god all of my friends will hate me!”
Voldemort looked at him seriously and said, “Before we worry about that, why don’t I tell you why you’re here.”
Harry nodded and Voldemort grinned. “If you want the story, you have to sit on my lap.” He decided. Harry yelped and said “Nuh uh, that’s blackmail!” Voldemort looked at him for a few moments and Harry said, “oh. Right, you’re the Dark Lord.”
“Very good Harry! Now come here and sit on my lap.”
Harry sighed and wandered over to Voldemort. Voldemort, still grinning, pulled Harry over his lap so that he was sitting sideways and could face Voldemort as he talked.
“Now, what do you know about your mark?”