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A Wholeness of His Own	By : Camorgan Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Voldemort Views: 6591 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 4
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and I do not make profit from this work.

Chapter List
- 1-A Wholeness of His Own
- 2-Connection
- 1
- 2
A Wholeness of His Own

Rating: M/Explicit

Pairing: Harry Potter and Voldemort/ Tom Riddle Jr.

Warnings: Voldemort sympathy, language, explicit slash, large age gap, brief romance with a snaky Voldemort (until his body is restored to its true form).

Summary: At the end of Voldemort's life, his soul split and mangled, living his life in the cell that Grindelwald died in, Harry returns to find closure at last and confront the man that had taken so much of his life away. He expects a remorseless monster, no different than before, but finds instead a broken, shattered man, lost to hallucinations and violent seizures, living on a thin thread of life. Harry is clutched by pity and frees Voldemort, bringing him to his home to nurse to heath. Voldemort and Harry begin a journey to put the broken pieces of Voldemort's soul back together. Voldemort finds that he is more human than he thought, and perhaps love really is the greatest power of all.

A/N: I have sat down to go over my plans for this story and realized a couple things don't line up with where I want this to go, so there are slight changes in the first chapter. Just be aware of that. I won't type them out because it'll ruin the surprises and the natural unfolding of things. Sorry about my lack of foresight.

"Are you sure he's asleep?" Severus asked warily, eyeing the door to Voldemort's room. Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes at the potion's master. For one so usually composed, Severus was practically having a panic attack.

"Yes, he's asleep. Would you like me to spell him to make sure?" He asked sarcastically.

"Yes." Severus stated simply. Harry sighed, giving the older man a withering look.

"He won't bite, Severus, he can barely speak. Can't even feed himself. I've been spooning the all-mighty Dark Lord soup for Merlin's sake." The other man didn't look comforted in the least, but nonetheless gestured for Harry to let him in, a sort of resigned look on his face.

Voldemort was, in fact, asleep. He was far from peaceful, however. His body was seizing slightly, his eyelids twitching as nightmares raged behind them. He looked like death, even now. Despite all logic, Harry's heart panged with pity. He glanced over at Severus, wary about how the man was reacting to being in the same room with the man who had effectively ruined his chance at love.

Severus was stony faced, all of his emotions sealed away under the famous potions master mask. But Harry knew him better than that, had witnessed the varying moods of Severus Snape, and knew the man was struggling. Regardless of this, he stepped forward, placing a case on the bedside table.

Inside the case was a plethora of colored potions ranging from the simple ones Harry could recognize such as pepper up and blood replenishing potions to others that completely escaped him, despite his prolonged exposure to two different potion masters.

Severus drew his wand, and Harry was worried for a moment that he would kill him, but he was just performing diagnostic spells, his mouth tightening and his eyes going a bit out of focus, as if he was trying to not really see the man lying before him. As if he could ignore the fact that this was the Dark Lord.

He began plucking phials out of the case, lining them up on the bed one by one until there was almost a foot of potions beside the man's arm. Severus stepped back, snapping the case shut.

"That should get him stabilized for now, but I need to brew some more complex potions for the amount of mental instability he is showing. It will only get him back to the level of sanity he showed before capture, however, so I surely hope whatever you have planned works. I also need to brew something for his seizures, however they might improve as his overall health improves. I have laid the potions out, but do not expect me to feed them to him, that is where my compassion runs out."

Harry nodded, taking a seat on the bed and picking up the first potion. When he raised his eyes to the Dark Lord, he was met with his red gaze. Those eyes lingered on him and then slid up to Severus, who had stilled, as if he could feel his eyes on his back.

"What is this? Come to poison me? You should have just left me in prison." He hissed, though his voice was weak and soft. Harry's expression didn't change, he simply uncorked a potion and held it to the man's lips.

"It's not poison, drink." He stated. Voldemort sneered slightly.

"As if I'd trust anything that Severus brewed for me."

"He's right, Harry. You should have left him in prison. Ungrateful bastard." He snapped, stalking from the room. Harry sighed, pushing the phial against the Dark Lord's thin lips.

"Well, you would have died if I'd left you there, so it doesn't really matter if this is poison – which it's not – because either way, you die, right? If I were you, I'd take your chances and drink this." Voldemort gave him a weak glare but opened his lips.

Harry fed him each potion, meeting that strange gaze in silence. He gathered up the empty phials and moved to stand but a spidery hand shot out, gripping his forearm with more strength than he would have expected. The expected stab of agony did not come, but Harry was in no position to think that over. He paused, looking down at the Dark Lord.

"Why are you doing this?" He asked, his earlier hostility replaced with a hesitant sort of curiosity.

"Because when I saw you I felt sorry for you, because we're connected in a way I can't ignore, because I believe in giving people second chances. And because I know, deep down, that if things had been different, if I had been born in that orphanage, I would have ended up exactly like you."

There was something akin to shock in Voldemort's eyes, something very nearly human. His grip relaxed and his hand slipped down Harry's arm, resting strangely on top of Harry's hand in a distorted mockery of affection before Harry stood. He ignored the tingling sensation that spread over his skin as he left the room.

"This is madness, Harry" Severus stated as Harry closed the door. The younger man didn't reply as he moved to the kitchen to set the empty phials down to be washed. The older man followed him, leaning toward him against the counter.

"Harry." He said, his tone less volatile and more pleading. The younger man met his eyes apologetically.

"I'm sorry, I have to try." The other man's lips pursed in disappointment.

"I thought I raised you with better sense than this." Harry smiled despite himself, reaching up to tug on Severus' hair and smiling wider at the scowl that painted itself over his father's face.

"You raised me just fine, Sev. You are in no way responsible for my reckless stupidity." Severus rolled his eyes at this.

"I always knew they should have sorted you into Gryffindor. You may be cunning, but you have the heart of a martyr despite my earnest efforts." Severus said dryly, though Harry could tell it was said with affection.

"I learned from the best." He countered, laughing at the scandalized look on Severus' face.

"Don't give me that, Sev. You know it's true. You're the one who risked his life by double-crossing the Dark Lord. If that's not a martyr, I don't know what is."

"Regardless of your ludicrous accusations, that is hardly the point here. The point is that you have a madman in your bed and you're trying to nurse him back to health. You have no reason to believe he can be changed, you owe this man nothing, and he killed your family."

"First of all, you're my family, Sev. Secondly, I do have reason to believe he can be changed, I just have to figure out how. And thirdly, I feel like I do owe him something. I can't explain it, and there's no logic to it, but even without the horcrux, we're connected somehow. Severus, if I had been sent to an orphanage, if I hadn't had you to raise me, who could say that I wouldn't be just as barmy as Voldemort? We're…the same."

Severus went quiet at this, various emotions crossing over his face rapidly. He shook his head slightly, but sighed in resignation.

"You're insane." He said, a note of wonder in his voice.

"So you're going to help me, right?" The younger man asked hopefully.

"Merlin, what kind of father would I be if I left you alone with the bloody Dark Lord?"

"Excellent. First of all, we need to find a place to research horcruxes in detail. I somehow doubt Hogwarts would carry those sort of books, even in the restricted section." Severus nodded distractedly, thinking carefully.

"Well, there is one family that would most likely have the resources you need, but you're not going to like it."

"I have a haunch what you're going to say." Harry said warily. Severus gave him a grim smile.

"The Malfoys."

"Perfect." Harry groaned.

"You brought this upon yourself, I must remind you. And after all, you fed the Dark Lord soup, right? So you should be able to handle a couple Malfoys."

"It's just the one." Harry grumbled.

"There's nothing for it. You want to fix up the basket case, Malfoy's library will help. Hell, that's probably where the Dark Lord read it in the first place." Harry had to agree, but it didn't stop him from dreading the method. Severus was right though, there was nothing for it.

Lucius Malfoy was having a rather uneventful night, as nights go. He and Narcissa were enjoying some wine by the fire, each involved in their own books. Life had been blessedly normal since the capture of the Dark Lord eight years ago and the Malfoys were glad for it. Their lives had only gotten better since their freedom.

And so it was with the greatest confusion that Lucius answered Harry Potter's firecall. He hadn't really spoken with the man in about five years, though they had run into each other from time to time. They got along fine, really, but since Harry and Draco were no longer on good terms, it was rare to sincerely talk with him.

Harry was oddly somber and even a little bit on edge tonight. Which might just be from the awkwardness of their extended silence. Lucius had a feeling it was something else, though, and was preparing himself for the worst as he knelt in front of the fireplace.

"Harry, to what can I owe this unexpected pleasure?" Harry's mouth tightened uncertainly.

"Lucius, I have a rather…strange favor to ask. It is not something to be discussed over fire though, would you mind if Severus and I came through?"

"Not at all, please." Lucius replied, stepping back. A moment later both Severus and Harry stepped from his fireplace, brushing off soot from their clothes. Lucius offered them a seat and a drink, which they refused, and then sat down as well, facing them expectantly.

"So, about this odd favor, Harry?" He prompted. Harry nodded, weaving his fingers together to stop his hands from fidgeting.

"First, promise me you will stay calm. What I'm about to say is a little…shocking." Lucius' eyebrows furrowed slightly but he nodded anyway. Harry sighed, bracing himself for the worst reaction possible.

"Well, earlier this week I made a visit to Nurmengard." He started. Lucius' eyebrow rose, remembering the story in the Daily Prophet about how the Dark Lord had disappeared from his cell and the guard had no memory of it. People weren't panicking yet because the guard spoke about the condition that he had been in, nearly dead. They were hoping he wasn't strong enough to do anything dangerous.

"And, well, the Dark Lord is in my bedroom." He said bluntly. Lucius' face went white and there was a clatter as Narcissa set her wine glass down harder than she had meant to.

"Good Merlin, Harry. Could you have been more crass?" Severus asked, frustrated.

Harry quickly began to explain, despite Severus' snarky comments on the state of Harry's sanity. When he was finished, both the Malfoys had relaxed minimally, though they looked shell-shocked.

"So, let me make this clear." Lucius started, crossing his legs and taking a sip of wine pompously.

"You would like to use my library so you can attempt to put the Dark Lord's soul back together?" Harry nodded affirmatively.

"And what if, say, this works, but we find he's just as much of an evil bastard as he was before?"

"I know it's risky, and it doesn't make sense, but I have always followed my instincts before and I'm not going to stop now. It's something I need to do." Harry said firmly.

"I think Harry is doing the exact right thing." Harry's gaze locked on Narcissa Malfoy in surprise. She was smiling at him gently, and Harry remembered why he had always liked the matron of the Malfoy family.

"How do you reckon that, Cissy?" Lucius asked.

"This is ancient magic that Harry is feeling. It would seem this sensitivity to magic did not end with his mother. What Harry is experiencing, this connection, it's deep and instinctual. The threads of the Dark Lord's and Harry's life are tangled, knotted together. I am guessing that seeing him so close to death tugged on these knots, and Harry reacted the only way he could. With compassion."

No one questioned her, but thought about her words in silence. If anyone were to be trusted about this it would be Narcissa, who was incredibly sensitive to magic. She had an uncanny ability to sense things that escaped others. It almost bordered on being a seer, except that she never saw the future, really. Rather she could sense the potential in magic, including the individual magical signature that all witches and wizards had. The signature would shift closer to large events in a person's life.

Harry's signature was largely silver, but if one looked closely, one could pick out small little red knots, most concentrated at his forehead, where his scar was, but also spread around his body, which indicated it was deeper than a horcrux. It affected his entire magical signature, which also told Narcissa this had been growing for quite a while now. Maybe since the very first time he and the Dark Lord met.

"So, Harry has some sort of connection with the Dark Lord. Does this mean he'll have a better chance of healing him?" Lucius asked.

"I would say so, yes." She answered.

"And why now? Why hasn't he felt this before?" Severus asked.

"Like I said, he was close to death. I imagine seeing this shocked him into feeling the connection more clearly, and it might have even changed the connection in some way." Harry considered this, thinking back to when Voldemort's hand had gripped his arm, and no pain had come. Was this the product of their changed connection? Had it changed so drastically in that one moment of pity and compassion that he could touch Voldemort without pain?

"Well, if Narcissa feels this is right, then I have little reason to argue. I trust my wife's judgment, she is rarely wrong. I will allow you to use our library. I can't help but warn you to be careful, though, Harry. Connection or not, this is a dangerous man we are dealing with."

"I know, Lucius, and thank you." As they stood to take their leave, Narcissa rose.

"Please, Harry, if you could step into the hall with me for a moment?" Harry nodded, telling Severus to go on without him. Severus obliged and he followed Narcissa out into the hall. She took his hand, her expression serious and gentle at the same time.

"I didn't want to say this in front of the men. They might not understand, and you might not understand right now either, but you have a right to know." Harry looked at her with confusion, staying silent as she explained.

"I just want you to know that this connection, especially with the horcrux, well, it's going to get a lot stronger now. Your feelings are going to change and it might be disturbing. This connection has been long in the making and in order to heal the Dark Lord as you wish, you will need to intentionally strengthen your bond to make him stable enough to accept his horcruxes back into his body. Your signatures will become even more tangled, even more muddied. You might start sharing personality traits, and you might become rather…close."

Harry took this in, and found he was not surprised. As if he had known deep down that this would happen even before Narcissa told him. He also found that it didn't bother him like he thought it should. Shouldn't the idea of being so close to the Dark Lord, sharing personality, make him uncomfortable? Or maybe their connection was already affecting him more than he thought.

He squeezed her hand and smiled in gratitude.

"Thank you, Narcissa. Really." She smiled in return, bringing him into a warm hug.

"Any time, Harry. I still consider you like a son, you know. I do wish you would visit more often." Harry blushed, partly from her affection and partly because he was embarrassed for not stopping to see the elder Malfoys more often.

"I do apologize, it's just…" Narcissa nodded in understanding, squeezing his shoulder lightly.

"I know, it's quite alright. I imagine I will be seeing you often now, anyway." She said.

"Yes, I suppose that's true." He agreed, stepping away. He paused, thinking of something.

"Narcissa, would you consider taking a look at him? To help me with understanding how to help our connection?" He asked, though he was worried she would be unwilling to see him. Narcissa looked a little resigned, but she nodded anyway.

"Certainly." Harry nodded in thanks, taking his leave.
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A Wholeness of His Own