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Voldemort had left him with a clear order to finish breakfast and dictated the timings of the meeting with the delegation of the magical congress of America. He jumped to his feet as soon as he was gone and rushed up the stairs to his room. He managed to reach the sink just in time to throw up the contents of his stomach.
He had only forced himself to eat because he needed to keep his strength up. So much for that. He rinsed his mouth and brushed his teeth, as the waves of nausea continued to roil through his stomach. He shivered and exited the bathroom while he pulled out the bottle from his jacket pocket. Pouring himself a glass of water, he popped two of the pills in his mouth and downed the glass of water in one, hoping against hope that they would work on him. He pushed the bottle back into his pocket and pulled the feather out from the waist of his jeans and stashed it under the mattress. He had to research what it could do. He had a feeling Deus would know all about its magical properties but he didn't trust Deus or anyone else for that matter. After combing his fingers through his hair, he walked out of the room and ran straight into Draco,
"What the hell are you doing here?"
Draco had a peculiar look in his grey eyes. Had he heard him throwing up? He hadn't exactly been quiet so it was a possibility. Finally, Draco spoke,
"You're not alright, are you?"
Harry pushed past him and made his way to the dining hall to get his sword from the table. He could hear Draco following him and groaned inwardly,
"What do you want, Draco?"
Draco's voice was earnest when he spoke,
"I want to know what's going on."
Harry grabbed his sword from the table and turned around to face him,
"Nothing is going on. Stop worrying your pretty little head and chill out."
He made his way to the living room while he contemplated whether or not he should break the news about his cancer to Voldemort. He was at the fireplace when Draco spoke,
"You're not alright. No one else notices it because they're too busy hating you but I do."
Harry ducked his head and sighed. He didn't understand Draco's sudden interest in his wellbeing but since he meant well, he couldn't bring himself to be harsh. He turned around and met his gaze as he spoke,
"Listen, Draco. If I wasn't alright, Voldemort would have noticed it. I'm perfectly fine so please stop worrying about me."
Draco nodded doubtfully and Harry turned back around and flooed himself to the ministry. Making his way through the Atrium, he was followed by a mixture of dubious, fearful and incredulous stares. Ignoring them, he stepped into the elevator and heard the death eaters talk about the way he had kneeled and kissed Voldemort's feet this morning. When the whispers died down, he smirked and spoke nonchalantly,
"I absolutely love your oratory skills. You spoke about it in such vivid detail that I can almost picture it all. Would you be kind enough to tell me what happened afterwards?"
The death eaters flushed red and Harry saw one of them eye his sword with absolute fear. He frowned in mock disappointment and tsked,
"No? I was so looking forward to hearing all about it. Oh well…"
He adjusted his hold on the sword and the death eater that had been eyeing his sword screamed like he had swung the blade at him. He laughed and exited the elevator. Rabastan had been so right. He didn't need magic to be intimidating. He walked straight to the meeting room and knew that it was already underway. Pushing open the door, he walked straight in and Voldemort looked up from his place at the head of the table with something like fondness. He looked around the table and spoke softly,
"Sorry for being late. I got held up at the elevator."
He took his place at the vacant chair on Voldemort's right as the meeting was resumed and Voldemort started talking. All through the meeting, Harry took notes and mostly remained silent unless Voldemort asked him something or someone else from the table specifically asked for his opinion. When the meeting was over and the delegation had departed, Voldemort rose to his feet and he looked perturbed. He was about to get up when thick ropes wrapped arounds his wrists and ankles and bound him to the chair. He was a bit puzzled at the sudden turn of events but decided to let it play out and watched Voldemort as he paced the front of the meeting room furiously,
"Ummm…Can I know…"
He couldn't finish his sentence because Voldemort had his hand clamped over his mouth and his crimson eyes were filled with fury,
"Who the hell are you and what have you done to Harry?"
Harry held Voldemort's gaze as Voldemort removed the hand and demanded,
Harry relaxed in his chair and continued to hold Voldemort's gaze as he thought about the situation at hand. It was funny that Voldemort thought he was an imposter. Well, he guessed that Voldemort's doubts were fair since he had been acting off character. Maybe Voldemort was having difficulty digesting the fact that he really had kissed his feet this morning or that he hadn't caused any disruptions in the meeting. He winced when Voldemort gripped his hair and yanked his head back,
"Owww…Save the hair pulling for tonight."
Voldemort's lips were pursed in a thin line and his face conveyed his rage perfectly. He decided to get this over with,
"Ask me anything you want."
Voldemort considered that for a moment before tightening his hold on his hair and spoke,
"For all I know, you could have stolen all his memories and you'd be able to successfully answer anything I ask you."
Harry closed his eyes and laughed at the absurdity of the situation,
"You know that no one can touch my sword except me."
Voldemort leaned forward and growled,
"It could be a fake."
Harry opened his eyes and held Voldemort's gaze as he grinned,
"If it's a fake and I'm an imposter then you should be able to touch it."
He looked at the sword on the table and spoke,
"Go on then. Touch it."
Voldemort released his hair and had extended a hand to touch the sword when Harry spoke,
"On the other hand, don't touch it. You'll burn your hand again."
Voldemort growled angrily but instead of touching it with his entire hand, he used his index finger. The result was instantaneous. Voldemort snatched his hand back and Harry saw that his skin had indeed been burned. The ropes vanished and before he knew it, he was holding Voldemort's finger and blowing on it,
"What the hell are you waiting for. Heal it."
Voldemort raised his wand and traced it over the small burn as he healed it before pulling him into an embrace and kissing his head fervently. Harry couldn't help but wrap his arms around him and bury his face in the crook of his neck as he inhaled him,
"I am so sorry, Harry."
Harry rubbed his back and pressed a kiss to his jaw,
"I don't blame you for being suspicious. But…"
Voldemort pulled him away and met his gaze,
Harry grinned and kissed Voldemort's nose,
"But it bothers me that you thought I was an imposter when you were kissing me this morning. It means you'll kiss anyone…"
He wasn't able to finish the sentence because then suddenly they were kissing in a furious clash of teeth and tongues as they stumbled back towards the nearest hard surface…which happened to be the edge of a table. Harry's hips hit the wood, and Voldemort lifted him, pushing between Harry's thighs so their cocks aligned. He ground against Harry's hardness and Harry groaned. Voldemort slid his hands under the fabric of his T-shirt, digging his fingers so hard into his skin he'd leave marks. Voldemort's mouth found his neck again and bit down and Harry hissed,
"You really love marking me there, don't you?"
Voldemort growled and pushed up the front of his shirt and bit his chest instead. He sucked on a nipple and then on the sensitive skin beside it, drawing a mark to the surface that Harry knew would probably last for days. Harry groaned as pleasure coiled tight in his stomach. Voldemort moved to attack his mouth again, kissing him deep and dirty, his hands in his hair holding him in place as their hips moved together in a rhythm born of desperation. And then the moment ended as the door burst open. Harry pulled away from Voldemort's lips and flopped back on the desk as he fought to catch his breath while Voldemort glared irately at whoever had interrupted them,
"We're definitely jinxed or something."
Voldemort bent over him and kissed his lips softly. Harry gazed up at him and the love in his eyes was utterly unmistakeable,
"We shall continue this later."
He realized that the last time Voldemort had said that to him. He had said no and ended up hurting him extremely badly. Even now, Voldemort looked so unsure…like he was certain that he would decline. He raised himself into a sitting position on the table and smiled,
"We definitely will."
Voldemort was about to walk out of the meeting room when he turned around and asked,
"Where have you been the past two days, Harry?"
Harry rose to his feet and straightened out his clothes,
"You can say that I was taking some time away to do some thinking."
Voldemort raised an eyebrow at him,
"And what have you thought?"
Harry ran his fingers through his hair and met Voldemort's gaze,
"That I want to spend an eternity with you."
Something shifted in Voldemort's eyes and Harry saw them gloss over with tears. He looked like he wanted to say something but instead of saying anything, he turned his back to him and walked out of the meeting room.
Harry made his way back to his office and Deus joined him on the way there,
"That was seriously hot."
Harry sighed and threw himself in his chair,
"You can't just intrude on our private moments like that… You were the one that knocked on the door, didn't you?"
Deus chuckled darkly and Harry pulled the stack of files towards himself. He pushed half of them towards Deus and spoke,
"Get to work."
Deus grumbled something about being a demon and work being beneath him and Harry snickered,
"Should have thought of that before working you agreed to work for me."
Harry spent most of the day catching up with the work he'd missed for the past two days. Deus had force fed him lunch after that Deus had left him to feed at some point and Harry imagined that he'd probably be feasting on some poor death eater's sexual energy in a broom closet as he had taken another dose of his pills. So far, he believed that they were working because he hadn't coughed at all and the pain in his chest and stomach was monumentally better. He had worked in his office for the rest of the day. It was almost eight when a death eater burst into his office and rasped out,
"There's an emergency at the Atrium."
Harry's heart jumped to his throat as he imagined the order attacking the ministry again. He jumped to his feet and grabbed his sword as he rushed from his office and towards the Atrium. No way was he going to let Dumbledore win again. No bloody way.