Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, and I make no money from this work or any other in the Harry Potter fandom.

Author's Note: …at the bottom.

Memories of Freak

*/\/\*

Chapter 9

25 May 1996 - Sunday

HPOV

"Damn it, Severus! Do you have to walk so bloody fast? You do realize that I'm shorter than you, right? And that if the cloak billows, everyone will see my legs?" Harry groused as he struggled to keep up with the older man. They'd finally entered the forest but Harry didn't dare to remove his cloak quite yet. It really wouldn't do to mess everything up this late in the game just because he was annoyed.

"Have you ever seen me walking more slowly, Harry?" Severus muttered in reply, barely opening his lips. "Well?" he demanded when Harry didn't reply.

"Oh, I'm sorry. The answer was so obvious, I assumed it was rhetorical," Harry snidely replied.

"Precisely," the professor hissed. "Should anyone see me ambling leisurely into the woods, the individual would be certain to grow curious. So kindly refrain from inundating me with your pointless complaints."

"Yes, oh High and Mighty Potions Master," Harry drawled, playfully mocking.

Severus made a quiet growling noise. "I dearly hope you find yourself more inclined to being respectful before we go before the Dark Lord, brat. He is not nearly as prone to tolerating your brand of adolescent humor as I have grown."

"True, I'm sure, but he's not stupid. He won't risk sacrificing my value to sate his temper."

Severus came to an abrupt stop and turned around, grasping the cloak with alarming accuracy and pulling it away to reveal Harry. "Harry, do not test his patience," he implored gravely. "Lord Voldemort deserves your respect…"

"No," Harry interrupted solemnly. "He has earned your respect. He has yet to gain mine."

"Harry…" Severus protested.

"That doesn't mean that I'm going to do anything stupid," Harry promised. "I will be as Slytherin as possible, which includes self-preservation. But I'm not going to kiss his robes, and I'm not going to bow. I do not belong to him."

The older man sighed irritably and looked none too pleased, but he knew Harry well enough to give up on the argument that he wouldn't win. "We're outside the wards now," he said instead. "Take my arm," he offered his elbow and Harry wrapped both hands around it firmly while Severus bared the Dark Mark on his left forearm and pressed his wand into it.

Half a moment later, there was a crushing, pulling sensation like being squeezed through a too-tight rubber tube. It ended as abruptly as it had begun and Harry shuddered at the rather awful feeling. He was still blinking the spots out of his vision when Severus' arm slid from his grip.

Harry turned as Severus fell to his knees and bowed his head deeply. He frowned at the unfamiliar sight of Severus in such a debasing position. He'd known, of course, having seen the Death Eaters greeting Voldemort in the graveyard after his resurrection and then through some of his visions. He'd known how they worshipped him, but he'd never seen Severus in such a position before. He wasn't sure how to feel about it, but he knew that he couldn't focus on it right now.

Lifting his eyes from his… friend, he supposed, he noted the presence of Lucius Malfoy not too far away and, of course, the youthful-looking Dark Lord himself seated haughtily upon a throne before which Severus was kneeling. Nagini was coiled at her master's feet, her head lifted and eyes focused upon Harry, though she didn't look particularly aggressive. There was no one else visible in the room.

Harry instantly understood what Severus had meant when he'd described his first impression of Voldemort's magical presence. It was… impressive. He'd felt it in the graveyard last year as well, of course, but he'd been a mite bit distracted at the time. Now, it was draped over the room like a warm embrace – dark, seductive, powerful.

Harry's eyes rose to meet the blood-red eyes of the Dark Lord. He seemed to be feeling the bond between them as strongly now as when they'd spoken in their minds, but it still wasn't the blinding agony that had come the last time he'd been physically near the man. That may have been related to the fact that they were meeting on peaceful terms for the first time.

Resisting the urge to put his hand on his wand, Harry inclined his head just a little without lowering his eyes. "Lord Voldemort," he said neutrally.

"Harry Potter," Voldemort nodded in turn. "Today's contract," he spoke as he drew a scroll from his robe and held it toward Harry in offer.

Harry swallowed discretely and reminded himself of all the reasons that he was convinced Voldemort would be better off keeping him alive and happy for the moment. Surely he wouldn't want to risk harming or upsetting Harry right now. It was certainly in his best interests to allow Harry to get the prophecy for him.

That in mind, he steeled himself and stepped forward carefully. He reached for the scroll only to pause before touching it when Nagini hissed in wordless warning.

"I believe he wishes for me to take it," Harry hissed at the snake, keeping half an eye on her master.

"Indeed," Voldemort agreed quietly. "Behave, Nagini."

The snake's hiss turned sulky, making Harry smirk faintly as he completed his reach to claim the scroll smoothly. He stepped back quickly, unfurling it to read over the contents while he maintained a cautious awareness of his surroundings. Voldemort's magic felt seductive still, rather than malicious. Lucius had yet to move more than a small shiver while Harry and Voldemort had spoken parseltongue. He didn't feel in any particular danger from the eager, yet somewhat impatient emotion emanating from his link to the Dark Lord. Indeed, he'd have felt relaxed in the present company if not for the intellectual rationale that warned him the amiable atmosphere could change very swiftly.

The contract was not long and seemed to be basically what Harry had demanded when they'd discussed this previously with the addition of some obligations on his side to not act against Voldemort and to retrieve the prophecy to the best of his abilities and wait to listen to it until they were together. It would ensure that neither Harry nor Voldemort could harm one another now and that Harry must be returned safely to Hogwarts. So basically, if the prophecy explained exactly how Harry could kill Voldemort, he wouldn't be able to do it now, nor would the Dark Lord be able to kill him to prevent him from doing it later. Neither of them would even be able to speak the prophecy to anyone else without mutual consent, so Harry couldn't run to Dumbledore – not that he could imagine a reason that he'd want to do that.

Harry read through it twice, but he was convinced that it would provide adequate protection in case this evening didn't turn out the way he hoped. He'd researched everything that he could about magical contracts since Voldemort had first spoken of them making an alliance based on one, so he felt fairly confident that there weren't any hidden facets to this one. The border of binding runes inscribed around the perimeter of the parchment also received careful scrutiny, but it all looked right. Harry wasn't greatly knowledgeable in runes by any stretch of the imagination, but his studies into the subject had provided enough of an understanding to be able to tell if they were right for this kind of a contract or not.

When he finally looked up again, Voldemort offered him a quill, obviously confident that Harry would find no fault.

Harry accepted the quill – a blood quill, as expected – with a glance at the now quiet snake. Severus had finally been given leave to stand while Harry was perusing the contract, and he was now standing next to Lucius, watching the proceedings without expression.

Not seeing a proper surface on which to sign, Harry glanced at the Dark Lord. He hesitated momentarily, then boldly stepped forward in order to use one of the throne's broad armrests to sign the contract. Nagini grumbled, but not with too much aggression.

From their link, Harry felt a burst of annoyance accompanied by a faint wisp of amusement. After signing his name, Harry looked up into bright red eyes barely half a meter away. He met the glare with a small smile as he offered the quill back.

Voldemort stared at him a moment longer before allowing the barest hint of a smirk to grace his too-perfect lips as he slowly lifted a hand to procure the quill. His eyes scanned down the parchment quickly and then he signed in a hand similar to what Harry had seen in the diary, but more refined. It was small and neat, elegant but without unnecessary flourish. Somehow, it seemed to fit the man in a way that Harry didn't fully understand.

Harry remained at his side long enough to confirm that he had signed his birth name rather than his assumed name, then stepped back to a more polite distance.

Voldemort just stared at Harry for a moment as he rolled up the parchment and tucked it into his robe again. His expression was unreadable but from their link Harry detected a strange combination of frustration, intrigue, anger, and just a bit of respect. He suspected that the Dark Lord was confused, not that he was dumb enough to mention it.

He rose from his throne, stepping smoothly over his familiar, and stood just in front of Harry. When he drew his wand, Harry couldn't help but take a reflexive step back. That prompted a sardonically raised eyebrow and a trickle of amusement.

Harry made an impolite face in return, and placed a cautious hand on his own wand. Voldemort couldn't harm him at the moment due to that contract, but that didn't guarantee that the man wouldn't do something embarrassing just to spite him.

"Do relax, Harry," the older wizard drawled in a bored tone that didn't match the amusement he was feeling. "I need to cast a few spells on you to ensure the Ministry wards are unable to register your presence there. You have my word that I will cast nothing more."

Harry eyed the man warily, but then gave a short nod. Plenty of people would probably think he was insane if not simply stupid to trust Voldemort's word, but Harry could sense the man's emotions, and he sensed no deception from him.

The Dark Lord didn't bother saying anything more, merely lifting his wand and casting. Most of the spells were silent, but a few were muttered too low for Harry to hear.

He shivered slightly as the magic washed over him. Voldemort's magic, he realized, when it wasn't trying to harm him, felt almost as natural as his own magic. It took him only a second to understand the reason. Poppy had said, when he was a baby, that there was a second magical core in his body. Voldemort's magic had been a part of him since that night.

Voldemort had either noticed something as well or he was just reading Harry's emotions but he was giving Harry a very thoughtful look when he'd finished with the spells. "You're now concealed from every ward the Ministry currently employs," he stated neutrally. "The only way they will be aware of your presence is if they actually see you. There are alert wards that will be triggered by anyone using a disillusionment charm, but your cloak will go unnoticed.

"Lucius," he said at last, causing the blonde to step forward. "Escort Harry to the Department of Mysteries and back. Ensure that no harm befalls him," he said very firmly. "He is under my protection tonight, and I am leaving him in your care."

"Yes, my Lord," Lucius bowed deeply before rising and turning toward Harry expectantly.

SPOV

Severus watched Harry touch the portkey and vanish alongside Lucius. He had to admit, this was going well thus far. Harry appeared to be correct about Lord Voldemort tolerating him to a degree considerably above anything that Severus had ever seen of anyone but one of his most favored. His heart had nearly stopped when Harry had had the temerity to use the Dark Lord's throne as a writing surface. He'd honestly been expecting a lesson in boundaries in the form of the Cruciatus. Instead, Lord Voldemort had actually seemed somewhat amused.

Salazar, he could only hope that Harry continued to judge his worth properly. He honestly could not imagine what he would do if the brat got himself killed now. Somewhere along the way, the little annoyance had grown on him.

"Come, Severus." The Dark Lord's voice drew his attention as the man paced toward the door to his study. "They will be some time."

With a nod of acknowledgement, Severus followed his lord into the study and took his usual seat. Tea appeared at Lord Voldemort's command, and they sat in silence for a few minutes as they each prepared and sipped their drinks. When it became clear that the Dark Lord didn't have anything urgent to say, Severus let his mind wander once more. Unsurprisingly, his thoughts continued to circle around Harry. So much depended on the contents of that prophecy. That awful thing had already destroyed his life once. He wasn't sure if he'd survive such a thing a second time. His only comfort at the moment was that both Harry and the Dark Lord were being reasonable about it.

HPOV

Harry slipped the prophecy orb into his pocket, trying to ignore his trepidation. He was itching to listen to the thing immediately, despite knowing that the contract wouldn't allow it. His future, possibly the rest of his life, was riding on what that thing said. He didn't much care for the helpless feeling he was experiencing. He'd spent entirely too much of his life feeling helpless. That feeling had lifted slightly when he'd entered the wizarding world, but it wasn't until he started to grow close to Severus that he began to feel like he really might be able to take control of his life. His ceasefire with Voldemort was evidence of his ability to make his own choices. If the contents of the prophecy put him and Voldemort back on opposite sides irrevocably, his choices would become extremely limited once more.

Lucius certainly proved his worth as a Dark minion with his ability to walk an invisible Harry directly into the heart of the Department of Mysteries and back out again without even raising any eyebrows.

The fact that Harry was invisible and pretending to not be there made conversation impossible, so it was a quiet trip. In the atrium, Malfoy gave a subtle nod in his direction and Harry activated his portkey a second time and the hook behind his navel pulled him back to the Dark Lord's lair. Lucius appeared with a quiet crack a second behind him.

Harry was just processing the absence of Severus and Voldemort when the former appeared in a doorway off the back of the throne room.

"My Lord wishes you to join him in his study," Severus said once Harry had met his eyes. A tiny nod of his head indicated that Harry was to enter the room Severus had just left.

With a single swallow of unease, Harry squared his shoulders and crossed the room. He slid easily through the doorway in which Severus stood and stopped to take in a room that was eerily identical to the study in the Dark Lord's mind. Voldemort was seated comfortably in the same chair next to the fireplace that he preferred in his mind.

"Leave us, Severus," Voldemort ordered, his tone strangely… warm – as though he really did care for Severus the way the man cared for the Dark Lord.

Harry felt Severus squeeze his shoulder briefly before he stepped through the portal and closed the door behind him.

"You were successful?" Voldemort inquired, though it sounded almost more like a statement. He seemed to have very little doubt to the fact.

Harry nodded, reminding himself that Voldemort was bound by the contract to listen to it with him as he removed the orb from his robe and strode across the room to present it to the Dark Lord. Their fingers brushed as Harry handed it over and he stiffened at the unexpected sensation. Contrary to the pain he had experienced when Voldemort had touched him in the past, this felt almost exactly like being touched by the man's magic. Warm. Comfortable. Welcome.

The surprise and curiosity he felt from Voldemort at the contact was enough to convince him that the Dark Lord had felt something unexpected as well.

Neither of them mentioned it, though Harry did take the seat he was offered.

The Dark Lord stared at the orb for a long moment and Harry sensed a combination of excitement and trepidation as well as a strange mix of impatience and hesitation. His face gave away nothing as he opened his palm and extended it over the table so that they could both view the orb equally as he tapped it once with his wand.

Immediately, Trelawney's voice emerged. It sounded exactly as it had when he'd watched her give that prophecy about Pettigrew escaping in third year.

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches. Born to those who have thrice defied him. Born as the seventh month dies. The Dark Lord shall mark him as his equal but he shall have power the Dark Lord knows not. And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives. The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies."

Harry swallowed hard as the words stopped, leaning back in his chair and using his occlumency to recall it word for word. His first impression was that it didn't sound good. It sounded a lot like he and Voldemort were going to be forced to be enemies. "Either must die at the hand of the other" is pretty damning, after all.

But he had done some research into prophecies since he'd learned that his whole life had been dictated by one. What it sounded like a prophecy was saying was often not the truth. Many times, it was even the opposite of what it seemed. Part of the problem was that prophecies were spoken. That is why they were stored the way that they were rather than being written down. Some words in the English language could sound identical and mean very different things, for example. Or proper nouns may be mistaken for less important words or vice versa. The other part, of course, was simply ambiguity. It mentioned a Dark Lord, but not Voldemort. The Dark Lord it was talking about may not even be born yet, or he could be operating in an entirely different part of the world. The mark that it mentioned could be his scar or it could be a Dark Mark or it could be something else.

And was it, "either must die at the hand of the other"? Or was it "either must die at the hand of the Other"? Did the "other" refer to one of the two of them or a third party. After all, Harry himself was only referred to as "the one" or "he" throughout the thing.

And lots of people were born at the end of July in 1980, assuming that it did, indeed, refer to the first July after which it was made and not some other future July. He and Neville were the most prominent boys born at that time being that their parents were both in the Order and therefore had many chances to defy Voldemort. Again, that is presuming that the Dark Lord in question was Voldemort.

No, from everything Harry had read about them, he didn't put much weight in prophecy. Even if they did come true an estimated eighty percent of the time – the other twenty percent unable to be proved or disproved – it was impossible to judge the true meaning of a prophecy before it had happened. Sometimes one could guess correctly, but there was no way to know if you were right before it had happened.

The problem, of course, was that it didn't matter if Harry believed in the thing or not. If Voldemort believed in it, it mattered.

"What is your impression?"

Harry started slightly at the question and turned his pensive gaze back to the Dark Lord, who was watching him thoughtfully. Harry gave his reply a moment of thought before admitting, "I think it's too ambiguous to guess what it means. Even if you take it at the most literal, it could be referring to what happened in '81. After all, once you were in the room with me that night, one of us was going to die. There was no other way that could have gone."

The Dark Lord pursed his lips thoughtfully. "A valid point, Harry." He studied him a moment more and though his face showed nothing more than thoughtfulness, Harry could feel the man's tightly controlled excitement. "I had our contract of alliance prepared in hopes that tonight would turn our favorably. If you wish, we can sign it before you return, while the aegis of the temporary contract remains."

Harry nodded, surprised and pleased at the chance to take care of this now without giving Voldemort time to maybe rethink things or let that prophecy get to him. Since Harry had made his decision to side with Voldemort, he'd become quite pleased with that decision and he didn't want to be forced to change it now, even knowing that this would make Ron and Hermione hate him. "Yeah," he smiled, slightly nervously, then firmed his resolve, "Yeah, let's sign it."

Author's Note: I haven't decided yet if I want to write out the contract negotiations or just have Harry thinking about them later. Regardless, I've finally posted chapter 9. Yay for me… Sorry about the long wait on this and Language of Snakes. My health… difficulties have continued to be obtrusive of late. It hadn't stopped me from writing, but it does make it more difficult to strong arm my muse into focusing on the projects I wish to address in a timely manner. I've made a ton of progress on some other stories that I've not posted yet, which doesn't help you guys at all, I know.

With any luck at all, Language of Snakes will be updated soon. I'm doing my best to get that chapter done.

Anyway, much love to all of my reviewers, as always, and thanks to everyone who has followed/favorited any of my stories. Knowing that so many people are reading and enjoying my work is the incentive that keeps me posting.