A.N. I did NOT intend my one hundredth story to be a Harry Potter one, I really didn't. But my muse is running havoc and it had revived some of my Harry Potter writing juice making me write this.

Enjoy this little one shot, it was inspired by Imagine Dragons song 'Release'.

Warnings: implied slash, but not explicit in any ways, it could be considered to have a bit of angst or hurt/comfort elements, but I always thought that Harry's and Voldemort's relationship has to have that to work.

Word count: 1 083

Summary: Harry Potter can no longer run and hide the truth, Lord Voldemort will no longer let Harry run. And if Harry's survival demands close contact with his biggest enemy, if his weakness is the Dark Lord himself then Voldemort will gladly take his prize.

Disclaimer: I do not earn profit from this and the original piece belongs to the writer – J. K. Rowling.

Release

Twenty miles from anyone

Set my sights on the setting sun

Heaven talks but not to me

Cause heaven knows that nothing good comes free

Desolation tragedy

Is there nothing good in me

I've let me down down down down

"Do they know, oh, Boy-Wonder?" Harry winces at the cold seething tone, but refuses to let his eyes down and continues to gaze into blood red eyes. "Do they know you come to me every night? Do they know you come pleading on your knees asking to be mine? Do they know you betray them all by gracing my bed? Do they know of you traitorous thoughts, of your inner battle about your duty to kill me? Do they know you sleep with your parents' killer and don't feel any remorse? Tell me Harry, tell them the truth."

Harry can feel the horrified gazes of his friends on his back as they try to understand if Voldemort is speaking the truth, he can feel their suspicions rising because the words they just heard fuel their fears and suspicions about his actions in the past year. Because right now, standing here, three Gryffindors against one Dark Lord with Harry in front of them, the Chosen One doesn't look like he's about to curse the man.

His holy wand is in his hand, but pointed downwards, grip somewhat relaxed, he seems to be leaning slightly forward like some invisible force was pulling him to come closer to One-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named. Voldemort's sinister grin widens as in the end he is the one stepping forward, Ron and Hermione flinch back, taking a couple of steps backwards just in case, Harry on the other hand, stays in one place, eyes still glued to the rubies that were getting closer and closer to him.

"He's messing with us, right mate?" Ron's shaking voice breaks the silence curtain, he never was one for tact and never acted according to mood.

Hermione squeezes his arm to shut him up, but herself says nothing as she waits for Harry to deny Voldemort's words, to do anything, somehow show that he was under some magical influence and not standing there on his own accord.

The-Boy-Who-Lived stands like his legs are rooted and doesn't flinch away in pain or disgust when pale hand of the noseless man descends on his cheek. He hears sharp intakes breaths from his friends, but his attention is completely concentrated on the pale, snake-like man who was now caressing his cheek almost tenderly. "Are you ready to give up now, Harry Potter?"

Harry swallows, his body starts to shake, from fear or anticipation it isn't clear, but when he speaks his voice is shaking. "No…"

His voice croaks and doesn't hold the power it usually does and that's the moment Ron and Hermione understand there's no hope left for The wizarding world because their only hope and savior Harry Potter has fallen, but not in a way anyone had expected.

A bone chilling grin appears on Voldemort's face where his lips should be as he leans down to Harry's ear and whispers. "Is that so? Are you sure?"

Petty lies to everyone

In the hopes that I could be someone

Heaven talks but not to me

And now I wonder if it's meant to be

Desolation tragedy

Is there nothing good in me

I've let me down down down down

Knees tremble and in a moment's notice the brunet is collapsing into waiting arms of his once-enemy, body weak and shaking, his wand disappears in the black robes, never to be seen again. The bald man rearranges his supposedly mortal enemy in his arms in a bridal style and sends a deathly glare to the two Gryffindors who with horror watch their best friend cling with both arms to the black robes, head turned away from them and buried into said robes. "If you know what is good for you, you will not come looking for him, rest assured, he will be alive and taken care of in ways you could never provide him."

And with that the most evil wizard in history disappears in flash of black smoke, his mortal enemy cradled to his chest like the teen was a fragile artifact.

The rest of the Golden Trio are left standing, hope and dreams crushed, fear in their hearts as they try not to think of the future they probably will be facing soon. But even with fears for their lives and safety of the rest of the world in their minds the main thoughts revolve around their most-probably lost best friend that had grown apart from them so much since his seventeenth birthday. How did it ever happen? How was it possible? Was Harry cursed and needed their help? Cold seeped up into their bones at the thought of invading a possible living place of the Dark Lord; it couldn't lead to anything pleasant.

But could they leave their friend like that? Let him leave without explanation?

But I'll take your word

Cause after all you've never lied

Oh not at all

But look at me

Oh what a mess

I get caught up in the things that matter the least

Oh let me have release

I've let me down down down down

In an unknown location, in a cozy wooden mansion Lord Voldemort let his most prized treasure down on the silk covered bed. The trembling body of one Harry Potter immediately curls up in a ball with violent tremors going through his body. "Why did you tell them that? Why did you do that?"

Harry's voice is only a bit higher than a whisper as he wraps his arms around himself trying to stop shaking, but being unable to do so as the only person who could stop that was sitting down next to him relaxed, not touching him in the least.

Red eyes bear down on the lithe teenager and gleam in cruel amusement. "Because it is the truth my dear," He emphasizes d e a r with amusement. "-even if it's involuntary, even if I'm only a drug for your survival, you need me and with me you will be better off than with any of them, are you going to deny that?"

Blazing green eyes gaze into red ones as anger breaks through them while the body continues trembling. "It's your fault either way!"

Despise is clear in his voice when Voldemort speaks next. "It is how fates have decided it and you know it. My soul was not supposed to live in you, it had to be either it or you, and the price for such feat was the merging of the two leaving you addict to my magic which you no longer feel because your soul absorbed mine. Do not fault me for the ways of magic boy."

Hatred rolls in waves from the young brunet as he crawls onto Voldemort's lap and sighs in relief as the tremors of his body stop and he curls up comfortably without realizing it. The snake-like man looks down on the body in his lap and can't help but feel victorious. "You have fallen low Chosen One, and you will not be crawling out of this pit without a price, remember that."