Yo! This was meant to be a oneshot, which turned into a twoshot, which became a threeshot, and eventually ended up as a fourshot. I've already written the first three chapters, and have started the fourth. There may also be an epilogue at the end, but I'm not sure yet-it'll depend on how chapter four ends. Chapters one and two are basically gen. Chapter three references the pairing. Chapter four will just be smut because it's an excuse to practice writing it.

This starts off during the summer after fifth year and before sixth year. There's mentions of the prophecy, and Sirius is, unfortunately, dead. By the time the smut happens, Harry is seventeen. Everything is canon before where this starts, and AU after.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters...

It was a chilly, dreary day in the middle of July, the clouds overhead dark and thick. It wasn't going to surprise anyone if it suddenly began to rain. Maybe that was why the playground near Privet Drive was nearly devoid of life. Nearly, because there was only one person there-a teenage boy with messy dark hair, tired green eyes, broken glasses, and clothes far too big for him.

Harry Potter sat on one of the two swings, an arm coiled around the chain, staring out at nothing as he slowly rocked back and forth, his torn trainers scuffing against the sand below him.

Wanting to get away from his perfect relatives for a little while, he had left the house, expecting to be stopped before he could even reach the drive. But he hadn't been. He had expected to be stopped before he could even reach the end of the street. But he hadn't been. He had expected to be stopped before he could even reach the playground. But he hadn't been.

The Order guard had been removed, he assumed. Either that or Mundungus was on duty again. But it didn't matter either way. He hadn't been stopped, so he had come to the park and settled on one of the swings. He wanted to be alone, wanted to think.

There really wasn't much on his mind though-nothing was, really. He already wasn't feeling well in so many different ways. Thinking was only going to make all that worse, he knew.

But even then, thinking or not, he decided he was going to stay out here for as long as he could. He didn't like being stuck at Privet Drive. Hated being stuck inside Number Four even more. So even if he was still pretty close, at least he was away.

It didn't really make much sense, but did anything anymore? Had anything ever? Would anything ever? ...Probably not.

Someone sat down on the swing beside his, and it was only now that Harry was pulled out of his stupor. He glanced over, curious but disinterested at the same time, wondering who would want to be anywhere near the Potter delinquent. Most everyone around here avoided him like the plague. No, avoided him more than that, because people had done a rather poor job in avoiding plagues.

A laugh left him when he saw who it was-a quiet laugh that quickly became louder and more breathless. Harry laughed until he choked and, gasping for breath, wiped the tears from under his glasses.

"Haaa... Well, what brings you all the way over here?"

"I was simply in the neighbourhood is all."

"Mmhmm. That's cool."

"...Are you alright, Potter? You seem to be rather...out of it."

"Yeah? That's probably the concussion. I thought I might have one."

"Why in Salazar's name would you be concussed?"

Harry shrugged vaguely. "That's what happens when you get hit in the head with a frying pan in the morning, then kicked down a flight of stairs in the evening."

"That's-"

There was a silence, a faint rumble sounding in the distance. Was it about to start thundering? Harry was going to have to move if it did. He didn't really feel like getting struck by lightning today. He smiled wryly, flattening the fringe over the scar on his forehead.

"Why are you really here, Voldemort?" he voiced finally, and even he could hear how tired-how defeated he sounded.

"As I already stated, I was simply in the neighbourhood."

"Looking for me, I assume?"

"Not quite. I was searching for a poorly concealed Order member, though it appears there are none to be found."

"Hmm, yeah you won't find any here. They dropped the guard this summer."

"Why so?"

"How should I know?"

The Dark Lord raised a non-existent brow. "I assumed you would, considering you are the one they are, or were guarding. You are, after all, the Boy-Who-Lived. No doubt that is enough to want to keep you safe."

Harry scoffed. "You're acting as if being who I am somehow means they should actually be telling me things. They don't, by the way."

"Don't?"

"Don't tell me things-tell me anything, really. I'm just a child, too young to know what's happening in the war. Heh, I have to nearly get myself killed just to gain a sliver of information."

They were quiet again, both of them, the rumbles of thunder in the distance growing a little louder, though still sounding infrequently.

"Why do you fight?" questioned Voldemort.

"What?"

"Why do you fight for them? For the Light? They refuse to give you information, refuse to answer your questions, and force you to remain in what is very clearly an unhealthy environment. Why do you simply do as they say? Why do you allow them to use you as they see fit?"

Harry frowned and stared at the monkey bars he had never been able to use. "I didn't think I had much of a choice."

"No?"

Harry didn't answer at first. He continued staring at the monkey bars, thinking his answer through. He didn't have a choice-never had. He had always known that, but hadn't really put much thought into it until recently.

If the Dark Lord was at all impatient to hear what the teen had to say, he didn't show it. He simply sat there on the swing beside him, remaining still and quiet. He had even clearly reigned his strong, dark magic in, because Harry couldn't even feel it. That was nice.

"Did..."

"Yes?"

Harry cleared his throat. "Did you know that I learned I was a wizard on my eleventh birthday?" He didn't wait for an answer. Didn't really expect one either. "That day, I learned magic existed. I learned I was a wizard. I learned my parents had been murdered and not killed in a car accident. I learned that I was the Boy-Who-Lived. And I learned I was somehow your enemy, even though I didn't know you."

Voldemort didn't speak. He made a strange sight though, tall, thin, pale, hairless, noseless, red eyes, dressed in a dark robe, his long, sharp nailed hand gripping the chain as he sat on the swing in this Muggle children's playground.

"Right from the beginning, it was expected for me to fight against you. No one ever explained anything when I asked them questions either. It was like-is like being with the Dursleys. I'm not allowed to ask them questions." He frowned up at the sky when he caught sight of a flash of lightning in the distance. "Why am I fighting, huh? Heh, wish I knew. I didn't make a decision to fight. It was expected."

"Is this what you want then, Harry? To fight? To fight the Dark? To fight me?"

Harry glanced at him, then back up at the sky. "I think a better question would be, 'Do I have to fight?' Getting what I want isn't realistic. I know that."

"Do you have to fight? I don't believe you do, if taking part in this war is something you don't desire."

The teen huffed out an amused laugh. "Do you think I can just go up to Dumbledore and the Order and tell them I'm not going to fight for them just because I don't want to?" he questioned.

It was a rhetorical question, of course, and Voldemort knew it too, but he ended up answering anyway. "Have you ever considered simply leaving?"

"Leaving?"

"Leaving the Light. Leaving the Order. Leaving Dumbledore. Leaving and allowing the adults to battle the war they should not be allowing those underage to participate in, let alone for them."

"But... But I can't just not do anything!"

"Why not? What have they done for you? How have they helped you?"

"Not all of them are like that though!" Harry protested. "Some of them do care."

"Then why have they not done anything to aid you?"

"They can't. They try to do what they can, but they know it isn't enough."

"And why can they not do more?"

Harry sighed inwardly. Honestly, he didn't even know why he was answering all these questions. He supposed the answer was simple though. He just didn't care anymore. Didn't care what this led to, even if it was his own death. "They're the ones who are secretly neutral in the war. They're against what you're after, but don't agree with Dumbledore either. But they don't think you'll hear them out if they came to you, and being under Dumbledore's protection is better than nothing. They don't want to leave me alone either, so I guess there's that too."

Harry didn't notice, but a look of surprise crossed over the Dark Lord's face. This certainly was not what he had expected to hear when he had found the boy in this playground.

"Do you believe they would be willing to meet with me to discuss terms?" he inquired finally.

Harry blinked and turned his head to look at him, finally taking his eyes off the increasingly darkening sky. "Terms?"

Voldemort inclined his head. "Terms on what they would and would not do or take part in, on what my and their own goals are, on who will and won't be off limits in being harmed."

"Are-" Harry hesitated, bit the inside of his cheek, then said, "Are you offering them a chance to join you?"

Red eyes searched green carefully. "Would you cease fighting for the Light if those you care for are safe under the protection of the Dark?"

Harry's eyes narrowed. "You're not asking me to fight for your side instead, are you?"

"No, I am not. If you wish to no longer take part in this battle, then you should be able to do so-especially as you are currently underage. Once you turn seventeen, then you can always rethink your position and decide whether or not you are prepared to fight."

"And if the answer is no? If I turn seventeen, and decide I still don't want to fight?"

"Then you may remain neutral. Your personal stance should not be influenced by another. It should be your decision, and yours alone."

Harry flinched at a particularly loud and sudden clap of thunder, and looked up at the sky again. "If you can swear they won't be harmed in any way, I think they'll be happy to meet with you and talk things through."

"Then I will be pleased to hear what they have to say and offer."

Harry inclined his head. It was getting kind of foggy in the distance. Was it raining over there? "Do you really believe in prophecies?"

"I do not."

"Huh? Then why did you-?"

"I lost my mind. Quite literally." He sounded rather amused as he spoke. Amused, but not in the sense that he thought this was actually funny. "Yes, I lost my mind, and my soul. Recently however, I was able to get them back. I regained my sanity in many ways. Mostly, at least. I have no belief in Divination. I did not before I lost what I had, and do not now, now that I have it back."

He wasn't explaining it fully, meaning there was obviously something there he didn't particularly want to share just yet, but Harry didn't care. What he had heard was enough. It wasn't like he was looking for an apology or anything. That was only going to demean everything that had happened. Demean what had happened to his parents, to Sirius, to him.

It started to drizzle, and Harry looked down to spare his glasses. He was going to have to return to Number Four soon. If he got there after the storm hit, he would be locked outside. Again.

He sighed deeply. "I don't want to go back," he muttered, half to himself.

"Harry?"

He sighed again. "My relatives. I don't want to go back there. I hate being there."

"Is there nowhere else you can go?"

The teen shrugged. "Not really."

"I see... You may come with me, if you prefer."

Eyes widening, Harry looked at him. "With you?"

Voldemort inclined his head. "There are no Death Eaters in my manor currently. You will be safe there. And from there you can write to your friends to inform them that you are safe, and perhaps set a date for them to come see you and meet with me in turn, so that we all may discuss terms, as I said earlier."

And it was stupid, in a funny sort of way, that Harry was actually seriously considering it. Not just considering, but leaning towards it too. He didn't know when things had changed, when he had gone from blindly following Dumbledore, to questioning everything, but he had a vague feeling it had something to do with his godfather's death.

He felt like this was what Sirius would have wanted. Not him joining Voldemort or anything, just questioning-really questioning things. Questioning everything. He had never done that before. He did blame the Dursleys for that. Their punishments had made him fear asking questions, to a certain extent, and he hadn't really realized that that was something that had bled through to those in the wizarding world as well.

He hadn't had the chance to spend much time with his godfather, hadn't known him all that well, but he was positive, without a doubt, that this was exactly what Sirius wanted him to do. Think on his own.

The drizzle turned to a downpour, and the rumbling of thunder grew louder and more frequent, lightning finally beginning to flash overhead. Harry had to make a decision, and he had to make it now.

"Alright," he spoke finally. "I'll go with you."

"Oh?"

He nodded. "I know it's really only going to create more problems, but I don't care. I-"

"Harry?"

"I want to be selfish for once," he forced out. "I want to do this for me. I mean, it'll be nice if my friends and you can reach an agreement, but I want this for me. I don't want to fight anymore. I don't want to be used. I don't want to go back to the Dursleys again, no matter how much I beg not to. Dumbledore doesn't care. I know he doesn't. He probably never did. Or maybe he does, and he's just really, really bad at showing it. But I don't care."

Voldemort smiled. It looked kind of eerie, but it was definitely supposed to be a smile. "I believe you are making a very wise decision. A difficult one, no doubt, but wise." He got off the swing and moved to stand in front of the teen. He held out a hand towards him. "Come, Harry. To a place where you can finally be safe."

Harry peered at him closely, and then nodded firmly. Uncoiling his arm from the swing's chain, he accepted the hand and rose to his feet...

Looking forward to reviews! Laterz!