Disclaimer: Nup, I don't own the Harry Potter person-man-character-fictionofmineimagination

Chapter One

Non

Harry woke suddenly, shivering in a cold sweat. He slowly sat upon the bed, and once again took in his new surroundings.

Small, but not cramped. A bed along one wall, desk, small bookcase and a small in-the-wall wardrobe. It was bare and dark, and it almost seemed like moonlight was streaming in through the jail-barred door.

He had woken up in this strange place a few days ago. He had no idea how he got here, who took him, was anyone looking for him... The only this he had in way of information was the note on the table in the middle of the room saying he had 'nothing to fear.'

Oh. And the rules.

The rules were fiery letters burned into the darkest patch of the room. The burned so hot that they had seared into his eyelids, so that he could still see them when he closed his eyes. Harry was sure they were bewitched, because he had them memorised nearly the second he saw them.

Rule 1. Do not reveal yourself.

Rule 2. Do not release the prisoners.

Rule 3. Always attend dinner.

Rule 4. Do not commit suicide.

They didn't really make sense to him, but nothing about this situation did, so he let it lie. Someone would explain it to him eventually... If anybody was going to talk to him...

Grogily, Harry ploughed over to the bookcase and pulled out the book he was reading. It was some silly wizarding children's book. With dragons and warlocks and pirates and giants and heros - but at least it was something to read. It was a little comfort that whoever was keeping him here didn't want him to be bored witless.

He had just gotten to the part where the pirates captured the hero when a pain seared through his head, making him yell out and drop the book to the floor. He clutched his head and the pain slowly abated to a dull throb - then suddenly it was back to full strength. It did this three or four times till Harry finally got it.

It was a beacon.

It was calling him.

Harry edged towards the door - it had never occurred to him before to check if it was locked.

His hand grasped the bars and he slid the door open to the side. He made to go through it but a giant thunderous black cloud appeared before him, knocking him to the floor; and the fiery words appeared before him meanicingly.

Rule 1. Do not reveal yourself.

The cloud dissapated and a black mask fell from where it had been. Harry picked it up timidly and placed it onto his face. It stuck on like magic, a second skin, covering all of his face bar his mouth.

The beacon was still calling to him, so he hastily stood up and let it guide him through the corridors to a set of double doors. The pain in his scar told him exactly who was behind that door.

He took a deep breath and pushed the doors open. The room was normal sized with a dining room table sitting in the middle of it. Voldemort sat at the head of the table, enjoying a meal. He glanced up at Harry with a bored expression.

"I was wondering if you would ever get here. Close the door and come eat. Rule 3, Always - "

"Attend dinner," finished Harry.

An evil glint came to Voldemort's eyes and the corners of his mouth turned up slightly.

"Indeed... Hurry up."

Harry shut the doors over and cautiously went over to the place set for him. Slowly he let his hunger overcome him and he ate everything on the plate.

Voldemort had finished long before Harry, and to pass the time, he sat back in his chair and watched Harry eat as he sipped his wine.

Harry was soon enough finished though, and a stifling silence settled in the room. Harry was tense as he waited for Voldemort to speak.

It was a long wait.

Voldemort set his wine glass down onto the table gently and kept his red eyes on Harry as he spoke.

"You feel pain around me, don't you? As well as my moods?"

The silence came again practically suffocating Harry.

"It's a question, Harry. Answer it."

Harry let his gaze flicker up to Voldemort. He seemed stern but patient. Harry looked back down quickly and noded.

"Yeah. Through my scar."

Voldemort nodded thoughtfully. "Interesting. I wonder why it..."

Harry was aware of the ever present gaze of Voldemort and started to feel exceptionally uncomfortable.

"I used to feel pain around you - your mother's protection causes the pain. It happened even when I was in mere spirit form."

The silence fell again. This time it seemed more tense to Harry. Voldemort was repeating things he already knew. What was he getting at? What was he building to?

Voldemort's wine glass filled up again distracting Harry.

"To create an object called a horcrux," said Voldemort grabbing Harry's attention back. "One must separate a piece of their soul and place it into that object. Do you understand?"

Harry caught Voldemort's level gaze asking him the question, demanding an answer.

"Yes," Harry chocked out, freeing himself from the depths of red.

"Tell me what a horcrux is then," he oredered with a smirk.

"It holds a bit of your soul."

Voldemort nodded.

"I have several of these horcruxes. You understand parceltongue, don't you?"

Harry was caught offguard and found himself nodding.

"Another trait you share with me."

Harry could sense something sinister slowly coming from the conversation.

Harry's anger got the better of him.

"Screw this!" he yelled jumping up, his magic threatning to turn everything upside-down.

Voldemort gave a bored look and rolled his eyes.

A fire suddenly consumed the inside of his brain. His eyes burned, his mouth screamed, his head felt ready to explode.

And then it was gone. Harry found himself on all fours, gasping into the carpet.

"I can control the pain now. Nifty, isn't it?"

Harry shot him a nasty look and started to get angry again when Voldemort raised his hand. "Why don't you sit back down first? I assure you, my way is much more fun."

Harry slowly let his painful limbs lead him back to the overturned chair to sit on. Voldemort graced himself with a smug look, Harry seethed with hate.

"To create a horcrux there are prepreations that must be made," he took a sip of his wine. "What's a horcrux?"

"It holds a bit of your soul," Harry spat. Voldemort narrowed his eyes.

"Yes. To make the horcrux you must dislodge the section of the soul you wish to part from yourself. This is done by three rituals and concluded with a murder."

Harry felt a wave of disgust come over as he realised how monstrous a horcrux was.

"I went to your house that Halloween with house very ready to make a horcrux. I was going to use your death - which I did, I suppose."

Harry started to shake. "What do you mean?" he asked trying to keep calm.

"When the killing curse re-bounded it split the dislodged part of my soul from me, and my soul - being rather intelligent - aimed itself for the most powerful and protected object in the room."

"No," Harry whispered, tears beginning to stream down his face.

"Do you see, Harry," Voldemort continued, observing his reaction. "The reason I haven't killed you yet, is because you are my horcrux. A piece of me."

Harry shot out the seat, stumbling backwards into the wall, franticly shaking his head. He wretched, and slid to the ground weak.

After a moment of sobbing, Voldemort rose from his seat and approached him, the mess disappearing from the carpet and Harry's self already. Voldemort gently took Harry's shoulders, stood him up and led him back to the chair again and sat him down.

"Get rid of it. Take it out. Make it gone," Harry pleaded.

Voldemort folded his arms and leaned back onto the table.

"What do you think I've been trying to do for the past two weeks. Telling you was the last resort."

Harry blanched. "Two weeks?"

Voldemort nodded. "I've learnt a few interesting tricks - and seen most of your memories as well."

"You looked at my memories?" Harry said - surprised to find the energy to put a touch of anger into his voice.

"Mainly second, fourth and fifth year. They were the most interesting."

Harry tried to accept it and move on.

"Why can't you just destroy it?"

Voldemort's eyes flared, Harry felt a sharp pain and winced badly.

"First things first. I will not be destroying it. It's safety and protection is of the utmost importance."

"Then why can't you get it out!" Harry cried.

"Over the years my soul has become more active, becoming more entwined with your soul and mind. Along with my mind. The pain you feel through your scar is your mother's love trying to hurt the piece of me inside you, which in turn is rising up, trying to rejoin with me."

Harry took a deep breath.

"You mean... My mother's protection is the thing that causes the pain?"

Voldemort nodded sagely. "I can't take it out without damaging it."

Harry slowly nodded and rested his head in his hands.

"So you won't kill me," Harry said quietly.

"And if you kill me, my horcrux will slowly start to take over you, and you will become the next Dark Lord. You will become... me"

Harry closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on his breathing.

"So this is, what? A truce? Ok, yeah. So are you gonny let me leave now?"

"Where to? Your relatives? Because they're so loving. Your friends? They would ask questions, questiones to which, you won't have an answers to. Hogwarts? If Dumbledore had the slightest inkling of what you are he wouldn't hesitate to destroy you. So, no. You're not leaving. Not without me in any case."

Harry started to feel faint but pushed the feeling down.

"So what happens now?" he managed to make himself ask.

"You'll stay here. Doing whatever you want, as long as -"

"I follow the rules," Harry finished for him. "Do I even have a choice?"

Voldemort smirked.

"No."

dUN DuN Dunn!
Poor Harry :(
Yay for Tommy tho woo! :)

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