chapter two: a little flirtation

"A balding yet bizarrely hot paramedic said I'd be fine."
"Oh, and he's an expert?"
"At flirting."

~Darynda Jones

"Cease that incessant blubbering you filthy thing!" Rodolphus Lestrange sneered with a sharp whack at the back of Hagrids head. He had been forced to listen too the half giant's constant wailing and sobbing half of the entire way back to Hogwarts castle as he carried the unconscious form of Harry Potter. No longer! The Brat had awoken from some sort of...he wasn't entirely sure...perhaps a memory recovery stasis, and was now somewhere above, no doubt still conversing with his Lord through their bond.

It had been very satisfactory to watch the boy writhe in agony when a comment made by Lucius had set off a sort of domino effect in Potters mind, effectively knocking down the walls blocking his memories, or whatever afflicted amnesiacs. He had never bothered to study the mind behind the memories.

A sniffed, "'Arry..." and a shake of his head was the only reply. Beside him, Fenrir Greyback snorted, the usual twisted grin adorning his face. Rodolphus had often wondered where the ...er...man had received so many scars. It had been only months ago when by sheer accident he had witnessed the werewolf returning to human form at the dawn after a rather lovely full moon. His body had shone with sweat, heavily accenting his muscular back which was riddled with scars as much as the rest of him. It had been hard to give him his privacy. But Greyback's temper was well known to be at its worst after a change, and being that he highly valued his life, he had hurried away.

Rodolphus was in no way homosexual. Quite the contrary, he appreciated the female form with worshipful adoration. But art was a guilty pleasure of his, and there was just something about Fenrir's physical form that opened his artistic eye. For certainly it must be that. Why else would he be imagining the man posing nude with a woman as his wand flew over paint and canvas?

"Fo'cken' meat head that one is..." Greyback's low baritone snapped him out of his thoughts, and Rodolphus was suddenly very aware of how warm his face was, a strange thing considering the coolness of the night air around them. He quickly turned his face away, running a hand through his mussed hair to hide the evidence of his wandering thoughts.

"I-" he coughed lightly, regaining his composure. "I concur." Glancing up, he saw the flash of the boys shadow moving through the trees. Why Potter could not simply walk amongst them was lost to him. "What do you think, Greyback...about-" Fenrir shot him a dark glare out of the corner of his eye, and Lestrange found himself thoroughly cowed, knowing why. There was a short pause, and it made him feel very uneasy.

"Something doesn't sit right with me about the boy." the werewolf continued as they marched on.

"What do you mean?" Rodolphus watched as the other mans expression shifted, unrecognizable as he rose his face to the moon.

"I am unsure." he quipped in what seemed like contained awe. "Regardless of the fact that Potter survived, or that he seemingly has changed sides; that does not distract me from the obvious..." He trailed off leaving Lestrange bewildered.

"the obvious what?"

"My change in mannerisms, of course." Both men felt the hair on the back of their necks stand at attention and they turned to the direction of the voice. There he was, eyes aglow through the dark of the forest where he was perched on the branch of a gnarled tree. Rodolphus could think of only one word to describe how Potter looked with his torn robes, blood-smeared face, and scraggly, shoulder length hair. He looked...wild. Especially his eyes. It was like looking at Bellatrix in male form, save the prominent glitter of insanity. Though he wasn't so sure the child lacked that characteristic if his very recent behavior was anything to go by.

"Evening Potter." Greyback huffed as the boy leaped down to walk beside them. Potter grinned toothily, sending a shudder through all those who had turned to watch the encounter.

"Likewise." he said cheerily. "Lovely evening, though I observe you must be disappointed at the battle being the last waxing before the full moon am I correct?" Fenrir nodded, trying not to be too irritated with potter's tactless comment. "Shame." he sighed, "I would have enjoyed watching you change. Beautiful transformation process if I do say so myself."

"How would you know?" Lestrange asked with a lift of his eyebrow. "I thought you had lo-"

"Insignificant against the power of the mind, my dear Rodolphus." Harry cut him off with seemingly no thought to the appalling rudeness. "I recovered a memory of Remus Lupin during my third year." he turned to Fenrir with an almost mocking smile. "He is one of yours I believe?"

Before Greyback could growl in response, Potter had already begun to talk again. "Shame that at the time I was too terrified to observe him properly. I would love to watch your wolf like Mr. Lestrange, here, did in April." his grin turned malicious and feral when he spoke, looking directly at the older wizard, who tensed at his words. Greyback gave him a sharp, dagger like sneer that said quite clearly that this would be addressed later. But it was gone in less than a second when Potter swept himself across Fenrir's path. "Though I believe my outlook would be-" discreetly, he trailed his fingertips over the mans bare chest in a somewhat inspective manner as he spoke, before circling back around to stand near Rodophus, "A bit more primal than Mr. Lestrange's artistic point of view." And with that, he Dissaparated, reappearing beside their lord at the head of the mob.

Rodolphus turned to Greyback, looking stunned.

"Didn't he just say he'd forgotten how to apparate?"

Fenrir shrugged, grunting in response.

"You seem in rather good spirits for one about to betray everything they've lived for." Harry glanced over to the Dark Lord, noting his amused tone, and met his smirk with a mixed expression. He was still in awe over the intensity of sensation just by being near him, but not quite enough to distract the twinge of disgust at himself for groveling and clinging to a man who had massacred endless numbers of people both magical and mundane. It was for a good cause, he knew that much. The muggles were growing stronger by the day, more intelligent and soon would have the capability to destroy magic, or the gods forbid...steal it for themselves and utterly tear apart the balance between chaos and order.

They had to be neutralized. It was impossible to wipe them out, and the dark lord knew this. His raids of bloodshed were simply to let off steam and stabilize his manic depressive behavior, and that of many of his lackeys. But pushing along natural selection would prove very helpful indeed.

"Not at all, My lord." he drawled in an equally superior manner, his momentary mania having subsided. His new talent for energy manipulation had it's pro's and cons. On the one hand, he was now very susceptible to energetic suggestion. If those around him were of a certain mood or mental state, he would slowly adapt to meet that same state of being. However should he consciously release the incredible amounts of extra energy into, for example, a very hormonal, but contained werewolf, he could once more stabilize himself. He could of course ground his energy into the air, the surrounding trees or, as the word suggested; the ground. But what would be the fun in that? "My cause has always been in sync with yours. My flaw was merely in the company I kept, and the point of view they instilled into me."

"I must admit I rather look forward to watching you duel."Harry sneered.

"Yes, yes. My lack of magical knowledge does not go unnoticed."

"you are still unsure of why you cannot recall any of your rather limited arsenal of spells, then." Voldemort said rather than asked. Harry nodded, watching the edge of the forest finally come into view on the horizon and shivered. They had just crossed the last of the still standing wards, simply to keep magical reserves from draining too quickly in a learning environment. Voldemort had been wise to let that specific ward remain. It would be quite an advantage. Oh but he could feel it, all the adrenaline, all the endorphins. The sorrow and pain were there, but it was utterly smothered by determination and drive. The school itself was infused with it, and would not go without a fight. But it was now as if harry had not even bothered to ground at all. And he absolutely jittered with excitement.

"As if that would matter." he grinned, eyes glowing with anticipation. ::I learned Crucio quick enough. Whats a few more?:: The Dark Lord kept his facial features passive, but the slight twitch in the corner of his mouth hinted at a sneer. As much as he enjoyed having the boy leading his army with him, he was appalled by the childish mood swings and simply by the fact that once more he had been cheated out of destroying his arch nemesis. To be sure, it was for his own benefit, but he despised having to change such drastic plans. He had so been looking forward to mounting that head in the great hall for generations of young magical folk to see.

::You are confident you can handle yourself, then?:: to his surprise, Potters eyes glazed for a moment, and he realized how what he had just said could be taken. He stopped a smirk as it inched over his non-lips. Adolescents and their misconceiving hormones. How droll.

::I think I can manage well enough, though it helps to have someone to assist me.:: Voldemort watched as harry swept his unruly bangs from his eyes, his wand somehow repossessed, with the most discreet of smirks. That cheeky brat!

::I'll admit you have impressed me thus far,:: Voldemort purred, deciding to play his game. ::Are you not concerned that you may have taken on too much for your first time?:: Harry noticed a slight dip in the mans voice and suppressed the shiver that ran down his back when his hair ruffled from the breath of his adversary, so close behind him. He was unsure if teasing the bastard in such a way was the most intelligent thing to do, but the way those eyes were traveling over him... it made him feel powerful. He knew the Dark Lord still wanted to kill him, despite the strange chemistry going on between them since he awoke. And he couldn't deny that he still wanted to do away with the bastard as well. The fact remained that both of their feelings of hatred ran deeper than anything that could be erased in one night. The only difference for him was that he no longer felt the loyalty he knew he should feel for those he was about to slaughter, and the enemies of his enemy were no longer his friends. He was aware that this should have concerned him, however; it did not. He had spent his years living for others, now he was free to make his own, unbiased choices. And when he felt a spidery hand slink its way around his hip, he chose to enjoy this new taboo.

::I'm positively rigid with anticipation, my lord.::

I a so sorry fr the shrtness but as yu an see the keyboard i was going to use t write the rest f it with is ompletey fuked up. smetimes the keys wrk and smethines they dnt. s here what i have finished s fa t appease your thirst fr the next week or so.

yeah i know thier firting is so daned dry that some ppl wnt get it. but then this is vldeort and (the weird kinda crazy super smart) hary.