by BlueEyes White Dragon Sorcerer

Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter... #laughs maniacally#

Read Tidbits of things... If you write out a plotbunny from here, please at least notify me.

Bunnies: - What Binaries was originally going to start off like. I changed it, obviously, but what I had written was still interesting. Unfortunately, I can't think of where it could be used.

- Once again, AMV Hell has gotten to me. I think this one is from 4 as well. 'Centerfold' by the J. Geils Band and just a tad bit of humor collided with my obsession to create this snippet. Sorry, but I had to stop it there lest it just kept going and going and going and that's not the point of Scraps. #sweatdrop# Who knows who Orochimaru is? #sly look# Who knows what said snake ninja can do with his tongue? XD

- Yes, some of these are the result of me being who I am and only ever thinking TR/HP all. the. frickin'. time. That, and listening to too many different songs. I'm amazed no one else has done any songfics or music videos with T.A.T.U. and this couple.

- Beware my angsty, deathfic snippet. It would start out so frickin' wonderful before it turned to tragedy -- tear-jerking tragedy, no less. Hopefully what we're writing doesn't come to this. Revenge fics against Tom really aren't my thing. Maybe that's why I don't like canon too much?

- Why does Myrtle look like Harry's twin?

- If you haven't read "Nusquam Permaneo" by BlackenedNightshade, you should. Just a little mention in there inspired this.

#Start#

The searing pain was fading slightly; Voldemort was still present after all, pacing in front of Harry and Wormtail and his eyes kept sweeping over the graveyard. Any time his eyes rested on Harry his thin lips would twist into a parody of a smile.

"You stand, Harry Potter, upon the remains of my late father," he hissed softly, cat-eyes fixed on Harry. "A Muggle and a fool… very like your dear mother. But they both had their uses, did they not? Your mother died to defend you as a child… and I killed my father, and see how useful he has proved himself, in death…"

Voldemort laughed, sounding not quite as high as before; still he paced, watching for signs of movement among the gravestones even as his familiar, Nagini, circled around Tom Riddle Sr.'s gravestone where Harry was bound. She kept giggling as she passed in front of him; at least that's what he thought she was doing.

Snake laughter is so strange and difficult to distinguish between just hissing for the heck of it, Harry had learned the first week of summer after his second year after accidentally shocking an unassuming garden snake by asking her why she had been coughing so much and if she should go to a doctor. Angie had sat there shocked before bursting out into giggles. When she finally did calm down enough to explain, Petunia had come out to check on his progress and he had had to help Angie hide. That was one of the few times he hadn't gotten caught. They had been extremely careful though it was fairly easy enough with Petunia telling him to work in the garden nearly every day.

"You see that house upon the hillside, Potter? My father lived there. My mother, a witch who lived here in this village, fell in love with him. But he abandoned her when she told him what she was… He didn't like magic, my father…

"He left her and returned to his Muggle parents before I was even born, Potter, and she died giving birth to me, leaving me to be raised in a Muggle orphanage… but I vowed to find him… I revenged myself upon him, that fool who gave me his name… Tom Riddle…"

His piercing red eyes still flashed over the mossy slabs of stone, even as he paced.

"Listen to me, reliving family history…" he said quietly, "why, I am growing quite sentimental… But look, Harry! My true family returns…"

Suddenly the sound of swishing cloaks filled the air, signaling their arrival. There they were, filling the graveyard, between the graves, behind the yew tree, and in every shadowy space, wizards were Apparating. Hooded and masked they moved forward… as if any movement might spell their deaths, gazing as if the Angel of Death were standing before them and in a way, maybe they were correct in that assumption.

#Next#

My blood runs cold

Eyes widening impossibly wide, he couldn't help but stare. Oh, Slytherin, he was going to kill Lucius for leaving such a thing in his private library. Was this some sort of jab at him? It couldn't have been anyone else but Lucius and it must be intentional since Lucius wasn't so careless as to bring a dirty magazine into his master's home, much less leave it in said master's personal library. Heads would be shaved and then rolled for this, but first he had to see why the Malfoy would even have the thing in the first place.

My memory has just been sold

Naked teens of both genders decorated the magazine, posed in different positions with different costumes. Angels, devils, genies, maids - all passed by without much thought, but then he found it. The picture that was most definitely the one. How covenient that it was the so-called 'Chosen One' that starred for it.

My angel is the centerfold

Soft-looking, furry ears perched on his head, glasses missing, eyes glowing that 'Avada Kedavra' green specific to only two people and one of those he had killed himself, just as soft and furry tail curlycued, but the clothes - oh, the clothes. A black leather bodice laced up on the sides with red velvet and the tiniest pair of black shorts that might as well have been underwear combined with thigh-high black boots made up the boy's costume. He nearly suffered a nosebleed right then and there.

Angel is the centerfold

Eye twitching, he found he couldn't move his gaze from the picture. It was perverted, but he just could not stop looking. There was a highly likely chance that he would be unable to face the boy in battle ever again without thinking of this. He was almost positive that the very next time he laid eyes on Harry he would immediately imagine what he would look like at that moment in some of the costumes he had seen in that magazine.

My blood runs cold

Curse you, Lucius Malfoy!

The images kept coming even as he stared down his nemesis. His eye was twitching again, he knew, but trying to shake the image of the boy before him in negligee was more important. The boy was just staring up at him with an odd look on his face, as if he were trying to figure out what to make of the Dark Lord's strange actions. Harry was knocked down, had no wand, and there was no likely chance of anyone being able to track him down to save him. What was his archnemesis thinking about?

Little did he know that it was the last thing he wanted to know.

My memory has just been sold

'Would he look better in green or red?' Shaking his head, he hissed in annoyance, focusing on the boy again. The boy who was just sitting there, staring up at him. He could have run, could have disarmed him, could have snuck over to his wand, could have done anything but just sit there. This was probably why Voldemort would win. Yes, he would win. He would defeat the boy and rule the Wizarding World!

But what did 'defeat' mean? He just killed all the others and that was a definite defeat, but there were other ways, weren't there?

My angel is the centerfold

Feeling as if time were moving in slow-motion, Harry watched as the Dark Lord reached down and scooped him up. What was the guy thinking? Harry tried to reason out why Voldemort was now holding him in his arms, but wasn't coming up with anything that made even a lick of sense. Slowly, he saw the Dark Lord's face get closer and closer to his. Was he going to kiss Harry?

Indeed, he did. Voldemort kissed him right on the lips, just a press of flesh, but that was enough to make Harry feel light-headed. Not a moment later, Harry felt the world twirl and he was forced through a small tube. When he could breathe again, he peeked out from under his lashes at the lavish room he found himself in. He was still in Voldemort's arms. For some reason his face was heating up, but he couldn't figure out why.

Then he noticed something, a magazine to be precise, on the bed open to a specific page. On that page was a very familiar picture, though he personally had not seen it often, he knew exactly what it was. That picture was the reason he refused to participate in any more Truth-or-Dare games with Draco Malfoy.

Feeling a warm breath on his ear, Harry started, barely having noticed that his eyes had widened significantly at the recognition of the magazine. Then there was something warm and wet on his ear and he couldn't stop the squeak from escaping him. How embarrassing! Teeth nibbling on the shell of his ear just made it worse as Harry found his eyes drifting half-closed at the sensation. It felt... strangely good.

Little gasps escaped him without his knowledge and those little gasps were joined by soft moans and mewls, which encouraged Voldemort to continue with his spontaneous decision. Harry would fall to him, but that didn't mean death if the boy accepted his proposal.

Angel is the centerfold

And the boy did, in the end, but achieving his surrender had taken extensive persuasion. Luckily, he was incredibly talented with his tongue.

#Next#

If they hurt you,

They hurt me too,

Hissing in annoyance, Voldemort narrowed his eyes, feeling emotions crash over him that were distinctly not his. He knew it would be worse if he didn't let what was about to consume him take its course, so he closed his eyes and was glad he wasn't in a meeting. When he opened his eyes, the Dark Lord knew where he was and hated it. He was forced to watch through Harry Potter's eyes as the boy's life carried on around him.

The common feelings of anger and deeply hidden hatred simmered

So we'll rise up,

Won't stop,

With all the lies and half-truths, Harry was beginning to think the 'Light' side was no different than the Dark. They never told him anything unless it was absolutely the last resort or if he found out on his own. So many things were hidden from him in such a way that he was unable to know critical information until it was too late. Yet, they still expected him to save them charge in and work miracles, saving the day just like superman.

Where was his kryptonite? Maybe he could escape this trap of cheap tricks and sad clowns.

The only place he could get any peace was in the Chamber of Secrets, which was where he was now. Luckily, Hogwarts was even more resourceful than he could have possibly hoped and wishing just so allowed him to forge a path to the Chamber through the Room of Requirement. Curled up on the stone floor, he breathed deep and just listened to the hypnotic sound of dripping water.

When he had first returned, it hadn't been so welcoming, but banishing the basilisk corpse and freshening the air had done worlds of good. Now it was his sanctuary.

And it's all about,

It's all about,

Watching through the boy's eyes wasn't anywhere near as bad as it sometimes was. For now, it appeared as if the child was taking refuge within the place that had been his own when he had attended Hogwarts. What an interesting development.

He followed the flow of the boy's thoughts, finding his situation getting better and better by the moment. Maybe it was time for him to reveal his presence and possibly change history? The only way to find out was to try and no one could ever call Lord Voldemort a coward, not then and most definitely not now.

It's all about us, all about us

It's all about, all about us

It had been a shock, being approached in such a way by his nemesis, but as they talked - actually talked - Harry's opinions and ideas were realized and they paralleled Voldemort's perfectly. Not only had the 'Light' been keeping him in the dark, they had been drowning him in lies! He had been slowly dying for a false cause.

But not anymore. No, things were changing. They were being perfected. The twin stars born under opposing signs lined up and began forging a new future for the betterment of magical life everywhere.

All about us

It had been a year since they had achieved their dreams. Now they lived in close quarters, ruling with a warm heart and an iron fist. The Wizarding world was flourishing, while the Muggle world remained contentedly oblivious - just as it should be.

The press was just as rabid about the two as it had been for a long time, conjecturing about Harry's lack of a love life and Voldemort's indifference to all the offers being made to both leaders. While Harry gently let down every offer, his counterpart out right refused to even consider any of the ridiculous proposals and while the press could wonder and spread rumors, there was never any evidence to support any of the increasingly foolish ideas.

Except one, the one that Harry and Voldemort were secret lovers. Considering how they only had close relations with each other, there was plenty of fodder for that rumor. No one knew if it was true, not really.

And that's the thing that they can't touch

'Cause you know (ah-ah)

Curled up against his lover's body, Harry breathed deeply, content. Long fingers danced softly up his body, drawing shivers from his tired body. It had been a long day at the end of a hard week nearing the end of the year and he had just wanted a little r&r. Of course, with a partner like his, it could never be simple.

"And to think that all of this started off as a relaxing massage," Harry groused, nuzzling his lover's neck softly. A quiet 'harumph' was the only response. Laving the same area with his tongue didn't receive any other response besides a repeat of the 'harumph'. Yet, he couldn't stop smiling.

"Have you heard the latest rumor?" Another 'harumph'. "Now they're saying you had Snape brew a special love potion that would make me refuse all offers but your own and because of the repression I'm an animal in bed," the green-eyed man purred, wiggling his eyebrows for effect when he noticed his lover's gaze resting on him.

"Why bother with a potion? All I need was a little time and opportunity to put my tongue to good use," his bedmate leered, giving an eyebrow-wiggling of his own. Blushing, Harry smirked, remembering.

"You don't say stuff like that much, Tom, but when you do..." Lord Voldemort took a deep breath, noticing as his lover's mood changed.

"And you know they'll never stop talking about us, Harry. They never have and they never will, even when we're old, gray, and quite possibly retired," the red-eyed man murmured, trailing a pale finger down Harry's cheek lovingly. With a sardonic smirk, the younger leaned into the caress.

"Because it's all about us."

#Next#

Eyes blank, Harry could feel the last few drops of his blood lingering in his veins burn. Alone, they could not keep him alive. The vampire's fangs didn't hurt as they ripped from his flesh. He could hardly feel anything now.

"I just hope... Remus can forgive me... for being so selfish," the dying wizard whispered, tears gathering like dew on his eyelashes as he blinked slowly, his vision nearly completely grayed out. Breathing was futile and burned like fury, but he couldn't consciously stop. His limbs were dead weight, numb beyond help, and all of his nerve-endings had finally ceased sending needles of pain through his system. All feeling in his body was gone, just the last lingering thoughts in his dying mind. His love for 'Velius' had killed him and he had hurt the only person who had seen him for who he was for it. He was almost glad to be dying because disappointing Remus like this would have killed him anyway.

#Next#

"WHAT?!" The scream echoed off the tile, making it several times louder than it would have been.

"Oh, Harry, hadn't you made the connection? I mean, you two look so much alike, so I did some digging and it's true. Myrtle was your grandfather Charlus' sister," Hermione calmly explained, watching Harry carefully. It wasn't enough, however, because watching alone didn't stop him from fainting.

#Next#

Rustle. Rustle rustle. Thump. Rustle rustle rustle. Squeak. Rustle rustle.

Click! Light flooded the room instantly.

"What are you guys doing here at three o'clock in the morning?" Harry grumbled, blearily glaring at the assembled wizards in his kitchen. Blinking back mostly innocently, the Death Eaters stood still, waiting.

"Master commanded me to deliver this," Avery finally answered, stepping forward and offering up a letter to the Boy-Who-Lived. Eying the offending object, the messy-haired teen snatched it, then began inspecting it. 'Definitely from Voldemort', he concluded before ripping open the envelope. Each word made his eyebrows raise a bit higher. He finished and looked up at the wizards still standing in his kitchen.

"So, he told you," he pointed at Avery, " to deliver this," he indicated the letter by raising it slightly, " but that doesn't explain why the rest of you are here." Looking out over the assembled, Harry gave them The Look, which meant they had better start explaining or else...

"Well, Avery was afraid that you would, well, do what you normally do when faced with a Dark Wizard, so he brought me along as back-up," Nott explained, stepping up beside said Death Eater.

"Okay," Harry said slowly, then looked to the others for their excuses. "And you?" Nodding at Crabbe, he indicated that the lumbering man should speak.

"Hungry, so followed food-buddy," Crabbe nudged Goyle, who stood beside him with a piece of jerky hanging out of his mouth. The elder Goyle nodded slowly, then twitched and tried to figure out what was sticking out of his mouth. He was rather unsuccessful. With a sigh, Harry turned to Lucius Malfoy and raised an eyebrow.

"And you? Why do I have the illustrious Lucius Malfoy standing in my kitchen at dark thirty?" The blond appeared to be as unruffled as usual, even when questioned about trespassing. "Wait, let me guess. You were back-up for Nott and Avery because you always go on raids." Scowling, Malfoy Sr. shifted his weight to the other foot.

"Alright. I'll let you in on a little secret," Harry spoke, addressing the entire group. "Lord McVoldie-shorts is on a mission elsewhere and I've been stuck baby-sitting all of you. Now, go sit down at the table. You're all hungry, I suppose." Watching grown men shuffle to his rather small table, most of them having to conjure their own seats, he set to work getting them snacks and juice. It would be a long month.

End of Set Five