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Harrymort Prompt Friday 09 December – Sixth year one-shot. Harry Potter is convinced by Dumbledore that the power of love is the power that Voldemort knows not. He decided to romance/seduce the Dark Lord and see if this supposed power of his can stop the war. He didn't expect to fall for the man he discovered, in turn. Nor did he expect his juvenile tactics to work on the king of seducers.
“So he only heard -?”
“He heard only the beginning, the part foretelling the birth of a boy in July to parents who had thrice defied Voldemort. Consequently, he could not warn his master that to attack you would be to risk transferring power to you, and marking you as his equal. So Voldemort never knew that there might be danger in attacking you, that it might be wise to wait, to learn more. He did not know that you would have power the Dark Lord knows not–”
“But I don’t!” said Harry, in a strangled voice. “I haven’t any powers he hasn’t got, I couldn’t fight the way he did tonight, I can’t possess people or - or kill them -”
“There is a room in the Department of Mysteries,” interrupted Dumbledore, “that is kept locked at all times. It contains a force that is at once more wonderful and more terrible than death, than human intelligence, than the forces of nature. It is also, perhaps, the most mysterious of the many subjects for study that reside there. It is the power held within that room that you possess in such quantities and which Voldemort has not at all. That power took you to save Sirius tonight. That power also saved you from possession by Voldemort, because he could not bear to reside in a body so full of the force he detests. In the end, it mattered not that you could not close your mind. It was your heart that saved you.”
Harry closed his eyes. If he had not gone to save Sirius, Sirius would not have died… More to stave off the moment when he would have to think of Sirius again, Harry asked, without caring much about the answer, “The end of the prophecy... it was something about neither... can live...”
“… while the other survives,” said Dumbledore.
“So,” said Harry, dredging up the words from what felt like a deep well of despair inside him, “so does that mean that… that one of us has got to kill the other one… in the end?”
“ Yes,” said Dumbledore.
Harry woke transpired and sat on his bed with his breath laboured. He couldn’t stop dreaming with the last moments of that conversation. It was like something in himself knew that it meant something special.
Harry sighed and looked out the window. There was starting to snow outside, it was almost Christmas. The Weasleys would go home but this year Harry wouldn’t go and would stay, he didn’t want to put them more at risk than they already were. He would be alone at Hogwarts but he didn’t really minded it. Would Voldemort be alone this Christmas?
Harry snorted, dark wizards didn’t celebrate Christmas why would the man care?
Harry frowned, wasn’t the man birthday on the 31st? Had any of the Death Eaters even knew the day of the man’s birthday? Probably not…
Harry stood at once, eyes wide. That’s it! Dumbledore said that love was what made him special, what if he tried to make Voldemort feel love? What was the worst that could happen? Voldemort came and kill him faster? At least he tried…
Harry looked to his friends in silence, making sure they were asleep and picket his backpack leaving the dormitory. Harry sat before the fireplace on the common room and started writing on the parchment what he knew about romantic gestures.
Harry frowned at remembering his horrible romantic date with Cho. Tea date was so out of the list…
“What are you doing?”
Harry looked up to see his best friend on the bottom of the girls’ dormitory’s stairs with a robe and a tired look. Hermione approached and looked to the list.
“Do I wanna know?”
“I’m going to try to court Voldemort.”
Hermione’s eyes grew.
“You’re kidding right?” Harry shook his head. “But Harry… he is…”
“Dumbledore said that love is my secret power. It doesn’t hurt to try.”
Hermione sighed and picked Harry’s parchment and feather.
“You’re going to need help then. If you try to court him with a simple tea date you’re doom.”
Harry blushed and Hermione started to write with Harry looking over her shoulder.
“And when you write the letters gave them to me, so I can re-read them and check them for your spelling errors and others mistakes you may make.”
Harry nodded eagerly.
“Thanks Hermione.” He said when she gave him the parchment back and stood ready to leave. She looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “For helping me and not thinking I’m crazy.”
“You’re my friend, Harry; if I’m not there for you when you need it I could not call myself you’re friend.”
Harry smiled and Hermione left, going to bed.
–HPFN–
Voldemort woke on the morning of the damned day of 31st December 1996 only to see a white owl offering its leg where a letter was, a package on the other. Voldemort frowned and picked the letter checking for any curse before opening it.
Dear Voldemort
Every year on my birthday I receive a birthday letter and a present, so I thought that even Dark Lords deserve to be given a birthday present.
I spent hours and hours thinking what to give you on this day, but then I thought, what’s best to start the day but a breakfast on bed? I hope you enjoy my homemade English breakfast.
Happy Birthday
Love Harry
Ps. You can test the food for poison, I didn’t had any.
Voldemort eyes grew as he looked to the package and, checking for curses, opened it. There it was, just like Potter said, an English breakfast.
–HPFN–
Harry looked at Hermione showing one shirt and then the other with a questioning look. They were buying Voldemort a suit, Harry was sure he would look good in a muggle suit and so he and Hermione were going shopping in Hogsmead. Harry didn’t knew what was more hilarious, that he was willing to do clothes shopping, if was doing shopping for Voldemort.
It would be the man’s third present. Until now no prove that the man had been receiving the presents or that he had even been opening them was shown, but at least it kept him and Hermione amused. On the second present Harry had sent the man a batch of homemade cookies. Hermione had said that if Harry was capable of cooking why not use that to his advantage and try to ‘prove’ that he could take care of the man? Harry had almost choked but had done it anyway.
“I prefer the white one, Harry. And with the black suit…” Harry and Hermione snickered.
They were having way too much fun in this.
–HPFN–
Dear Voldemort
Everyone deserves to be loved, even if only once, and you are no different. I’m trying to say with this that I want to love you and want you to love me back.
Do accept these lilies as a proof of my courting attempt. (Hey, I’m a male teenager, do not expect a whole poem from me!)
Love Harry
Voldemort looked at the letter in silence as it turned into a bouquet of white lilies.
What was the boy playing at?
Voldemort picked one of the lilies and took it to his face looking at it in silence.
And why did he keep waiting for these monthly presents? What was wrong with him?
–HPFN–
Harry sat with Hermione and Ron at the train compartment and looked outside sadly. He was wondering how he would manage to send his monthly present to Voldemort while locked in Dudley’s second bedroom. The man would probably think that he had got tired of him and didn’t want to love him anymore…
Harry snorted at the notion. Yeah right, as if Harry was falling for the man…
Harry felt a pain in his chest. Well, it felt good to send the man monthly letters and presents but it was not like the man even cared. The man didn’t even write back, not even to tell him to stop!
Harry gasped and took a hand to his mouth, his wide.
Oh no… this wasn’t supposed to happen! It was Voldemort who was supposed to fall in love, not him! oh no… oh no… oh no…
Hermione put her hand on his shoulder and Harry looked up to her. The female teen sent him an encouraging smile.
“Whatever happens, I’ll be there all the way!” she mumbled so only he would hear.
Harry nodded, knowing that she knew what he felt and, much probably, before he even knew it himself.
They arrived at kings cross and they left the train. At once they heard screams. Harry and Hermione traded looks and the two took their wands out, turning to the direction of the screams.
There it was, Lord Voldemort, dressed in the black Armani suite Harry had gifted to him, walking to Harry in silence. Harry gaped at the sight, he was right, the suit suited him.
“Harry.” The man said.
“H… hi…”
Voldemort looked at Hermione, then took his wand out, pointed it to Harry’s trunk shrinking it, and started to pull Harry with him.
“Hey… wha… what are you doing?”
“Do you really think I’m going to let you leave with those muggles?” The man looked at Harry sideways. “You started this Harry. You better be able to handle it, because I won’t let you go.”
Harry eyes widen and he was apparated away before any of the Aurors could get to them. Voldemort did read the letters and received the presents…
Maybe this could work. If he could use juvenile acts to make the heartless Dark Lord starts to feel love then maybe the man had still hope in him.
(The End)