A/N: Okay, so these are a few of the short stories I wrote for the 100 Quills challenge on Live Journal. They aren't from teh same stories so you can read them independantly, but it just seemed easier to post them all together. Some are purely HarryXVoldemort and some are HPXTwilight universe. I hope you enjoy them all!

Prompt 005---Polish

Warning: Slash

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Lord Voldemort walked into his bedroom after his last Ministry Meeting of the day. He had been ruling eth Wizarding World for six months now. The Order had all been eliminated, Dumbledore was dead, and he had his greatest trophy of all. At the thought he smirked and turn to the wall beside his bed. On the wall was painted, in the blood of his enemies, a mass of parsletongue in the shape of the door. It was one of his closely guarded secrets.

"Conceal the treasure within." He hissed in the snake language only he and one other understood.

The markings on the wall began to shift, first on the inside and working there way outward, taking the wall with it. It formed a stone archway and a staircase to a section of the castle that spatially should not exist. It was created by his magic alone and only he could access it. It was a vault. Some would say it was a tomb but the dead did not dwell here. Only souls and his treasure. The single treasure that he had taken as a trophy of his conquest. Every now and then he liked to take it out and polish it. Admire it. He took the stairs, the entrance closing after him.

Blue sconces flared to life as he traversed the stairs. A second door required another phrase. Something different to throw off anyone on the off chance that they got through the first entrance. He walked down the second shorter staircase and it leveled off quickly. At the bottom was a stone round room that was buzzing with magic. Around the room was a small niche, seven total, where each of his Horcruxes rested. Nagini was in a magically induced coma in one of the niches nearby. In the center of the room, a bright blue beam shone down on a glass coffin on a raised dias. He stepped over to it, running a fond possessive hand over the lid. Looking down into the glass box, he gazed at his most precious possession.

Harry Potter lay in a magically induced sleep, just like Nagini. He had been this way for a year today. Voldemort planned to take him out of the box once his reign was complete and take him as his Consort, willingly or unwillingly. Harry would of course be confused. He would be waking to a world vastly different from the one he fell asleep in. He would, naturally, never leave Voldemort's side or the safety of his room. That was to be expected. He didn't share, period, and he would feel jealous with too many people ogling his prized possession. Of course he would have Harry make a few public appearances with him to solidify the uselessness of defying the new regime. Other than that he would be under every protection possible.

Yes. He had big plans for the child, and a child he was. Harry, since being put in the coma, a specialized parsletongue ritual created by Slytherin himself, had remained his youthful, beautiful fifteen year old self. His hair had grown, now undoubtedly down to his knees. He was like a special doll that one only took out of the case on special occasions to admire and then to be put back under wraps. Voldemort, however, would be enjoying him for eternity. He had created a Horcrux for Harry while the boy slept. It was a simple thing but something that meant a great deal to the boy. A photo album. In it were pictures of his parents as well as a recent picture of Harry himself that acted much like the Tom Riddle diary had. It had awareness. It lay at Harry's side inside the unbreakable box, closed and silent.

He had dressed Harry in loose, flowing white robes that only increased his appearance of that similar to an angel. His chest rose and fell just the slightest bit, evenly and soft. The Dark Lord burned with hunger to see those emeralds open and gaze on him. Whether it be fear, anger or quiet indifference he didn't care, because eventually they would contain pleasure and need as well. He imagined that there would be naivety in those eyes and confusion as he pressed his Consort into the mattress. He imagined that Harry wouldn't understand what was happening until it was and the understanding that would dawn in those ethereal orbs. He shivered in excited eagerness. He would wait for that day. After all, he had waited years for it already. Ever since, he would slip into number four Private Drive as a spirit and watch the boy as he slept and as his relatives abused him.

He would erase every hurt from little Harry's mind and fill his memories with knowledge that he had been his, he had belonged to him since infancy. Just the thought of the fey-like creature that was soon to be draped over his arm, and his bed, was enough for him to call on Bellatrix for a bit of quick entertainment. Harry wouldn't be like her though. He would be untainted, clean and pure when he became his. He sighed and ran a hand over the glass, feeling an answering pulse of Harry's own magic. Even now it recognized him. He needed to get back and rule the world with an iron fist as per the plan. Every time he came down and spent a moment with his pet, it seemed harder and harder to walk away. Harry had grown into a beautiful creature and while he was patient, his patience was not eternal. Soon though. Soon he wouldn't have to leave at all. Soon Harry would come with him and never leave his side. The thought alone was enough to make him moan. Harry would be so powerful when he emerged. A caterpillar in a chrysalis to emerge as a lovely butterfly. Yes. He was delicate and beautiful, just like a butterfly. He would just have to clip his wing tips so he couldn't fly away.

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