In the Hands of the Enemy

Author: InsomniackNixie
Date: Dec. 18/07
Disclaimer: See first chapter


Chapter Two: Damned Bonds


Several hours after leaving Harry in the care of Poppet Lord Voldemort sat in his library surrounded by tomes containing all of the known bonds in the wizerding world, having exhausted all of the books in his formidable collection he was left frustrated. All of the books agreed that to do what he needed he would have to use a complicated set of spells and potions to create a soul-bond that would prevent them from ever killing the other, even accidentally, while leaving Harry mentally and magically intact so that Harry could still defend himself. All of the slave-bonds he had first researched would have left Harry's powers and perceptions inhibited to the point of helplessness. A death sentence for him if he remained in Slytherin Manor, and too easily broken if he wasn't kept here. "Damn." The Dark Lord sighed. Either way he went problems abounded, with the slave-bond he would constantly have to rescue Harry from his Death Eaters, no matter his orders some of them would attempt to kill Harry and pass it off as an 'accident', or he would have to re-capture him from Dumbledore, who would make that as impossible as he could. With the soul-bond there was the fact that some of his followers wouldn't like the fact that he was bedding someone so young, many had children in Harry's year, and Voldemort himself preferred his lovers of age and willing. 'That would explain why I rarely have lovers', he snorted to himself. 'Anyone who isn't a Death Eater is too afraid to refuse, and the ones who are Death Eaters just wanted to lord it over the others, creating dissent I don't need.' He could try to keep Harry confined to the Lady's Suite until he came of age, but he had a suspecion that Harry's damnable luck would hold true to form and he would find a way to escape before he was sixteen. He sighed again, rubbing his forehead where he could feel a headache building, "The 'rarer than Blood-Gold' referance will have to wait for tomorrow." Waving a hand the books he had scattered about the room closed and lept back to their places on the shelves as he rose and swept from the library.

"Pippin." Voldemort called tiredly, when he re-entered his rooms.

A gold-eyed house-elf popped into the room. "Yes, Master? How may Pippin be of assistance?"

"A bath, food, and an update on my guest's condition." He smirked. "In reverse order."

"Your guest has bumps, bruises, cuts, some severe damage to his right thigh, that ankle is badly sprained as well, and a concussion, Master." Pippin snapped his fingers and a steaming platter of food appeared on the desk.

Voldemort recognized the scents of his favorite foods, and heard the muffled sound of running water from the bathroom. The sigh that left him this time was a happy one. "Pippin tell Poppet that she is to cast a spell that allows her to listen to what my guest says even if she isn't in the room, she is to report any questions or comments that she believes important to me personally. Is that clear?" He quirked an eyebrow at the house-elf.

"Yes Master. Pippin will tell her. Are you needing anything else, Master?" The gold-eyed house-elf asked eagerly.

"See that Nagini is fed and comfortable. I will be using my private lab in the morning after breakfast, please see to it that it is ready for use. Then you all may retire for the night."

"Yes, Master. Sleep well, Master." The little creature bowed and disappeared with the customary 'pop' of all house-elves.

Voldemort set about demolishing his meal with relish before walking to the bathroom, the scent of lime and sage rising from the bath water greeted him, sinking into the hot water he washed quickly before leaning back and letting the steaming water relax his tense muscles. As he relaxed he allowed his mind to wander to his current 'guest' and the problems associated with him. Voldemort thought about different ways to present a soul-bond between himself and Harry Potter to his Death Eaters. 'Most,' he thought, 'will be too relieved that I have finally found a life-mate and won't care about his age.' His two favorites, Lucius Malfoy and Severus Snape, might prove problematic though. Lucius had a son the same age as Harry Potter, and Severus taught children, even if he despised teaching them it didn't automatically follow that he hated children. They might have qualms about his plans. Then again, perhaps not, if the grumbling he had heard through Wormtail was anything to go by they might possibly delight in knowing of his role in their Master's bed. He would have to make it clear to them, however, that being disrespectfull to his life-mate was considered disrespect to him as well and would not be tolerated.

As the water cooled he thought on the first few of the many potions that he would need to make. First would have to be a modified obediance potion for his reluctant guest that had a similar effect to the Imperius Curse but was much more subtle, making the person who drank it WANT to obey rather than forcing them to obey. It could be fought, of course, if he were foolish enough to make his directions less than subtle, or to greatly anger the younger wizard, Harry's magic would quickly burn the potion out of his system. The next would, of necessity, be a skin sensivity potion to heighten the sensation created when he touched Harry so that he could get Harry used to, and wanting the pleasure of his touch. The last would be a calming draught with a half strength healing potion to keep him from going into hysterics and heal the worst of Harry's injuries while still leaving him bed-ridden and dependant on Voldemort's whim.

'The rest,' he decided,'could wait for the morning.' He rose from the bath sloshing water everwhere, before picking up a thick bath-sheet and drying himself, then padding naked to his bedroom to see forest green silk pajamas waiting on his bed for him. He slid on the soft silk with a pleased sigh, then settled himself into bed and drifted to sleep.