Chapter 21

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Dinner was a quiet affair and Harry excused himself from the table as soon as he was done. He had felt pleased to see that Voldemort had been too absorbed in a conversation with Lucius to notice his departure. He just hoped that the man forgot about their deal because Harry was seriously beginning to regret making it. He entered his bedroom, closed the door and locked it for good measure. He knew that the lock would provide no hindrance to Voldemort if he wanted to get in the room but somehow the knowledge that the door was locked eased his mind a bit.

He sat down on the edge of the bed and moved his fingers through his hair. He just didn't want Voldemort anywhere near him. What was it about the man that made him lose his self-control? Harry sighed in frustration and closed his eyes. This was terrible. Where were all these feelings coming from? He had buried them. He had buried all emotions and sentiments. But they grew a little less dead, every time Voldemort was close, every time Voldemort had touched him. Harry was afraid that it wasn't long before they finally came alive and dug their way out from the grave, he had buried them in.

Harry decided he didn't want to think about it. He took a long cold shower in the hopes that it would knock some sense into him and changed into a T-shirt and Trousers. He laid back on the bed and closed his eyes. It had been a long day and Harry was glad that it was over. He nuzzled his cheek into the pillow and fell asleep.

Harry heard the distant sound of a click. He wasn't sure if he was in the middle of a lucid dream or it was real. He couldn't be bothered to know right now. The layer of sleep enveloping him was too thick and warm and he had no intentions of leaving it.

Voldemort stepped in the room and found Harry asleep on the bed. He drew closer to him and noticed that Harry's hair were still wet which meant that he hadn't been asleep for long. He closed his eyes and leaned forward to breathe in the scent of Harry's freshy showered body. Should he awaken him? He decided against it. Harry looked far too peaceful in this state to be disturbed. Come to think of it, he hadn't seen this kind of peace on Harry's face when he was awake and about. He smiled when Harry mumbled something incoherent in his sleep and stepped away from the bed. He had no intentions of giving up the payment, Harry owed him but he was willing to postpone it till the morning. After all there wasn't anywhere Harry could run.

Harry woke up in a pleasant mood. Voldemort hadn't been anywhere near him last night and he was glad about it. Maybe the man really had forgotten about their deal after all. Harry's mood brightened even further when he remembered that Bella and Umbridge would be working for him from today. Harry dressed up in a deep crimson linen shirt and black jeans. He pulled on a black jacket that he found in the wardrobe and looked at himself in the mirror. He knew it wasn't the appropriate attire for a ministry official and that was what made him feel so good about it.

He made his way down. The breakfast table was fully loaded but devoid of people. Perfect. Harry looked at the clock and his grin widened. He was delightfully late. Harry ate his breakfast as slowly as possible and relished it. It was the best meal he had had in a while. He rose to his feet after finishing his orange juice and made his way to the living room, where the fireplace was. He realized that he could go anywhere he wanted to right now. He was free. Harry shook away the thought. He wouldn't miss the chance to berate Bella and Umbridge for anything.

He grabbed a fist full of floo powder, dropped it in the fire place and spoke loudly,

"The Ministry of Magic."

Soon he was swept away by the flames and stepped out from one of the fireplaces at the ministry. H walked undeterred and unfazed through the hallway despite feeling the uncomfortable sensation that everyone was watching him. He walked past the security desk without pausing and made his way to the elevator. He stepped in and all conversation that been going on in the elevator halted. He knew the witches and wizards crammed in with him were expending all their energies on ogling at him. He felt like shouting at them but then controlled himself. No, he would not allow his mood to be dampened by these people.

The golden grill slid open and Harry gladly stepped out. He was just making his way to his office when a death eater approached him, bowed and spoke,

"The Dark Lord requests your presence in his office."

Harry wondered what it was about. He mentally prepared himself to be chided by Voldemort on his lateness and his attire. It wouldn't bother him though. Harry signalled the death eater to lead the way and followed him to Voldemort's office. The death eater paused outside a pair of huge oak doors. The death eater bowed again and departed.

Harry pushed open the doors without knocking. If Voldemort could barge into his room without knocking then he could do the same. Voldemort was leaning over his desk and writing something. At the sound of the door opening, he looked up and slowly placed his quill in the ink well. Harry didn't miss the way Voldemort eyed him. The man's face was expressionless but Harry saw a hint of something in his crimson eyes. Voldemort was up to something and Harry began to internally panic. What if it was about last night's deal?

Voldemort signalled Harry to sit wordlessly. Harry didn't feel compelled to oblige and leaned his shoulder against the wall instead. He waited for Voldemort to speak but when the man said nothing, Harry had no choice but to speak up instead,

"What did you want me for? I have work to do."

Voldemort stared at Harry for another minute and then spoke,

"Firstly, you are late. You were supposed to be present here an hour ago."

Harry didn't bother to look at Voldemort. He pushed his hands in the pockets of his jeans. Voldemort spoke again,

"Secondly, I do not approve of your attire."

Harry looked up at Voldemort and adjusted his shoulder against the wall, relaxing even further,

"Anything else or is that all?"

Voldemort rose to his feet and Harry saw a flicker of anger dance across his face before Voldemort concealed it again. Harry took it is a small victory and internally felt overjoyed. Voldemort stepped closer to Harry until he was standing an inch away from him and their chests brushed against each other.

Harry's internal joy faded and was instantly replaced by deep, burning desire. He tried not to let it show on his face and tried to appear as calm as before. He tried to be indifferent. It wouldn't do well for him to let someone with an ego like Voldemort's know how much sway he had over him. He couldn't let Voldemort know how he could awaken his dormant feelings just by being close. He restrained himself from leaning in. He knew what was coming and he felt his body aching for it. He shouldn't want this. He tried not to make it easy or seem too keen.

Harry silently watched with abated breath as Voldemort raised his hand and brushed his hair away from his forehead. Voldemort moved closer and Harry could feel his lean body pressed up against his. It was growing hard to keep his breathing under control and concealing his desire. He felt the warmth of Voldemort's body. For a moment, Harry felt that Voldemort was going to kiss him and he wanted it. He wanted Voldemort's lips on his extremely badly. But instead of kissing him, Voldemort leaned in to caress his neck, slow and gentle. Harry realized that Voldemort was making him wait. Harry could barely bear it. He was barely holding onto his emotions.

Harry's hands balled into fists inside his pockets. It was taking him all his willpower not to lean in and claim Voldemort's lips. Voldemort's lips quirked up in a mischievous grin, right before he bent down over his neck and kissed it. Harry's world fell away at the contact and couldn't stop the gasp that escaped his lips and his eyes flew shut. Voldemort hummed in delight at the sound he had managed to elicit from Harry. Harry's heart was beating at a thousand miles an hour and he was certain that his face was reflecting his desire perfectly well now. A knock on the door rang through the otherwise silent room. Harry didn't know if he should feel relieved or disappointed.

Voldemort verbally cursed. Harry surmised that he wasn't pleased with the intrusion. He instantly grabbed Harry's wrists and pulled his hands out of his pockets. He brought his face close to Harry's ear and practically growled out a promise,

"I shall find extreme pleasure in ripping these clothes off you tonight."

Harry shivered violently in anticipation. He knew Voldemort would fulfil this promise, no matter what.

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