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I Am Coming, Trust Me

By casey26334

Fantasy / Drama

Chapter 8

OH SHIT! Harry thought as he rolled over in his sleep, arms flying to the side to brace himself against the fall. His eyes screwed shut and he waited for the landing….. nothing. Shouldn't he have rolled right out of bed?

"What the bloody hell was that?" someone suddenly said.

Harry's eyes snapped open. He had expected to be staring at the dark blue walls of his cramped bedroom at the Dursleys, Hedwig hooting a 'good morning' to him. Instead, he was met with a blinding flash of sunlight as someone ripped open the curtains. Harry's hands flew to cover his eyes and he heard a chuckle.

At the sound, Harry bolted up in the bed and let out a startled yelp as he took in his surroundings. It was the same large room that he seemed to have a vague memory of. He glanced to the window and saw Voldemort standing there, arms crossed and obviously trying to hold back a laugh.

"WHAT THE-?!" Harry yelled as he scooted backwards into the headboard.

"Are you finished? Or is this how you wake up every morning?" The Dark Lord said sarcastically.

Suddenly Harry remembered. Waking up in this room, Voldemort, the panic, the snake, the bathroom… that had truly been unfortunate… eating the chocolate, falling looked back towards the pale man who was still by the window watching the emotions run across Harry's face.

"What're you looking at?!" Harry snapped.

"Is that how you say thank you for allowing you to sleep in my bed?" Harry bristled and looked down to inspect what he was lying on. EWWW, he thought, extremely unhappy to have slept all night in snakeman's own bed.

Well that's not very nice, the voice echoed in his mind, sounding much less enticing than it had in the past few weeks.

"STOP IT!"

Voldemort ignored the boy's outburst. "I could've let you sleep on the floor all night." Voldemort said as he sat down at the wooden desk situated across the large room.

"Maybe I wanted to sleep on the floor. Maybe I didn't want to sleep in your stupid bed!"

"You sound like a child."

"I AM A CHILD!" Harry shouted, divesting himself from the tangles of incredibly soft silk sheets. Harry mumbled to himself, "Stupid bed… all fucking comfortable."

"What was that?"

"NOTHING!"

Suddenly Voldemort's bone wand was pointing at Harry. "Shout at me one more time boy…"

Harry froze for a second before deciding to push his luck. "What? You said you weren't going to hurt me." He said sarcastically. He watched as Voldemort's eyes narrowed and instantly regretted his comment.

"No, wait I-" The white flash of a stinging hex flew from Voldemort's wand and hit Harry directly in the chest. "OOWWWW!"

"Oh stop whining, you deserved much worse than that. People have died for much less insolence."

"I'm not one of your Death Eaters, I don't have to respect you." Harry said, rubbing his chest with his hand.

"Consider being respectful to me a wise choice, Harry."

Harry huffed and looked towards the bathroom door. "Can I use the bathroom Your Majesty?"

Harry's eyes widened as another spell came his way. He quickly dodged the unfamiliar black curse… he didn't even want to know what it was. "I'M SORRY!" He shouted, hands over his head.

"You have been here all of one day and are already testing my patience…" Harry gave no response. "Yes, you may use the bathroom." Harry spun on his heels and headed towards the door. "Just don't lock yourself in there this time…." Harry tensed as he could hear the slight amusement in the man's voice. Boy did he regret that escape plan.

Once he was done taking care of his business, Harry looked at himself in the mirror. He had to get out of this place, but he was torn between fighting his way out and waiting for Dumbledore to rescue him. Voldemort hadn't hurt him so far, well, not seriously at least, maybe he could last another day or two until help came…

They are not coming for you.

The voice. That was it, the last straw. Harry spun on his heels and threw the door open. "FOR MERLIN'S SAKE WOULD YOU STOP DOING THAT!"

"Stop doing what?" Voldemort said without looking up from the paper he was reading.

"YOU KNOW WHAT! THE VOICE! STOP DOING IT!"

"I'm doing nothing that I haven't been doing for the past few weeks."

"Just. Stop. Get out of my head."

Suddenly Voldemort stood from his chair, the motion quick and smooth, much like a snake. "Does it really bother you that badly to know that it was me?" He shouted.

"YES! IT DOES! JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!"

A few seconds passed. "So you do believe that it was me…."

Harry's mouth opened and closed while he tried to find the words to say. He hadn't believed for a second that it was Voldemort, but yet… there was something deep inside him that feared the truth, that just knew the truth. He squashed that feeling."I didn't say that."

Voldemort just looked at the boy, the tension in the room dissipating in an instant. After a few moments Voldemort sat back down in the chair and resumed his reading. Understanding that the conversation was over, and feeling quite relieved because of it, Harry looked awkwardly around the room.

"So what exactly am I supposed to do?"

"Do whatever you want. Read if you'd like." Voldemort said, again not looking up from what he was doing.

Harry decided against the books once again, still not trusting them not to try to eat him. He took a seat on the floor by the unlit fireplace and leaned against the wall.

"Must you really sit on the floor like an animal?"

"Yes."

Did Harry just see the Dark Lord roll his eyes? No, impossible. A half an hour passed in silence as Harry picked at the rug underneath him. He considered contemplating his escape but with Voldemort obviously in his head he didn't want to risk it. Maybe he can only read my mind when we're in close proximity… Harry thought with a glance to the Dark Lord, waiting for him to butt in with a sarcastic reply. Nothing came, the Dark Lord simply continued reading.

Growing curious and quite bored, Harry decided to break the silence. "What're you reading?"

"Nothing."

"You're obviously reading something."

"It is of none of your concern, child."

"I'm not a child."

"An hour ago you screamed at me that you were. Make up your mind."

Harry huffed, knowing Voldemort was right. Feeling the need to be irritating, Harry stood from his spot on the floor. If he was going to be stuck here with Voldemort he was at least going to be as obnoxious as possible about it.

He walked over to the desk and placed his hands on the wood and leaned over, peering at the papers. A pale hand slapped down on top of the desk, effectively covering the papers from Harry's sight.

"Dark Lords have paperwork?"

"Go away."

"No."

"Harry…" Voldemort said threateningly.

"At least let me leave this room! I can't just sit around all day!"

"Really? You want to leave this room? Ok, go ahead." Voldemort's wand waved towards the door and Harry watched as it opened. He stared into the empty hallway like it was a hallucination. He looked back at Voldemort before pushing off the desk and heading towards the door. "I'm sure the Death Eaters will appreciate your company."

Harry stopped and turned around. "There are Death Eaters here?" He had come into contact with a few of Voldemort's followers in the past and had yet to have a pleasant experience with them.

"Mmm-hm."

Harry took a few steps backwards and shot another glance down the empty hall. Oh how he wanted to get out of this room! He had been awake for less than an hour, but how he longed to be able to do something aside from sit around all day!

It was then that a woman's scream echoed throughout the manor. The hair on Harry's neck stood on end. Something about that scream… it reminded him of something that he couldn't quite place.

"Ok no I think I'll stay." He said quietly while backing further from the open door, not appreciating the smug look on the Dark Lord's face.

"Sounds like they're having some fun with-" Voldemort's voice was cut off by another piercing scream. Harry jolted and shrunk back. His mind was going a hundred miles an hour and he suddenly felt extremely uncomfortable… like his body sensed it was about to be in danger.

Voldemort watched as the now trembling boy stared in horror at the hallway. Voldemort stood from his seat, the humor suddenly gone from the situation. Something was wrong.

Voldemort wandlessly slammed the door, cutting the woman's screams off. "Harry?"

The 12 year old stood staring at the door, shaking his head back and forth as if he couldn't comprehend what was happening.

Harry watched as the door slammed shut. The scream stopped but it still reverberated through his ears, traveled through his body. He covered his ears with his hands, trying to block the nonexistent noise out. What was happening? Why wouldn't it stop?! The scream changed in pitch and morphed into a new voice. The sound hit Harry's body like lightning, and suddenly he knew… his mother. Lily Potter's screams shook her son's body, making it impossible for him to see or hear anything else.

"Oh my god…." Harry said as he wobbled on his feet.

Voldemort was beside the boy in an instant. "Harry? What's wrong?" The boy didn't answer, didn't act like he even knew anyone was around. Voldemort grabbed Harry's hands and tried to pull them away from his ears. "Tell me what's wrong."

"NOOO!" Harry shouted, pulling away, his head frantically shaking back and forth. His world was spinning, the last sounds of his mother haunting him.

Voldemort wasn't sure what to do as the boy panicked. Something had obviously happened when the woman downstairs screamed, but Voldemort couldn't understand why it was affecting Harry so badly. Voldemort did the only thing he could think of, what he had done so many nights before to comfort the boy. He wrapped his arms around the small shaking body.

Harry felt someone hug him, someone holding him tightly. He pressed his face into the person's robes as his mind was assaulted.

"Make it stop, make it stop please…" he whined, sounding as if he was in pain.

"Shhh… it's ok, it's ok. You're fine Harry." Voldemort held the boy tightly, subconsciously trying to block out whatever was harming the child with his own body.

A minute passed and nothing changed. Voldemort pressed his face into Harry's hair and took a deep breath, willing the boy to calm. Harry's breathing was much too fast and he was still shuddering. Voldemort needed to calm him down, now.

Voldemort took a moment, wondering if this was the right decision. Harry had been so angry before…

The boy whimpered, sounding like a terrified baby, only reinforcing Voldemort's decision.

Calm down… please calm down Harry…

Voldemort felt the boy tense under him.

You're ok… I've got you… I'm here, as I promised I would be… you are safe…

That was all it took. The screams slowly ebbed and Harry was thrown back into reality. He felt tears forming behind his eyes and before he could even try to control them it was much too late. A strangled sob forced its way from his throat and the tears began to fall. He let go of his ears, the agonizing cries of his mother finally gone.

Somehow he knew Voldemort was the one holding him, and for some strange reason that he couldn't begin to explain it made him feel safe. Somehow he was certain he had not felt this safe since his own parents had held him as a baby.

He reached around Voldemort with his arms and gripped the back of the man's robes tightly, refusing to let go. He hid his face in the man's chest and cried for what felt like hours. Cried for his mother, cried for himself, for the situation he was in, cried because he finally knew- finally knew that the voice had come for him at last. That he was safe.

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