Work Text:
Hellfire eyes swept around the sea of kneeling men and women. The blooming pride he had felt since the beginning of his pilgrimage, hadn't made itself known since he'd met that insufferably annoying brat.
Even as his most devoted kissed the hem of his robes, his face remained stoic under the shadows of his hood. He inwardly shook his head, snarling at himself at his unprecedented reaction to his devoted.
And as he addressed his followers one last time for this gathering, a sudden tug at his chest made him freeze. A fiery wave of urgency then took hold of his mind. He quickly recollected the passing day, searching if he somehow touched or ate a cursed object. The man then registered each face of the followers he'd spoken to, none had looked or thought anything suspicious. He grits his teeth, as he tried to figure out what was happening. All the while observing his gathered followers.
Murmurs of confusion steadily increased in volume as each minute passed after their Lord had abruptly cut himself off from his speech.
"Dismissed." The man hissed viciously. Darkly musing to himself that his followers were comparable to an army of rats scurrying away in fear. Much like Wormtail.
The last follower finally left, he uncharacteristically slumped in his throne, grimacing at the sharp tug in his chest pulled at him once more.
Standing up, he discarded the cloak and took off his glamour.
The once snake-like countenance of the Dark Lord vanished and in its place a young and handsome man in his mid to late twenties. None would have guessed he was over 50 years old at a glance or even if they stared at him for a long peruod of time.
Reluctantly he left the throne room to follow the tugging of his chest. He swore he'd kill the boy and anyone if he was the one responsible for this odd occurrence. Every unexplainable thing that has happened to him recently is almost always because of the boy.
He journeyed through the halls of the newly furnished Slytherin Manor, his current base of operations. He had decided that Malfoy Manor was a very obvious hiding place, so he dug through the inheritance he had as the Slytherin Lord and chose this Manor to stay hidden in.
It was not particularly far from Hogwarts, but also not close enough for Dumbledore to suspect any suspicious activities.
He hissed at the continuous sting in his chest, he quickened his pace. Vaguely registering that this hallway was the direction of his chambers. The pressure on his chest loosened until he was finally in front of the door that led into the bedroom.
Now that he thought more deeply, he's felt this pull only twice before. Once on his expedition through the forest rumored to hide the temple of the goddess and the other time on his resurrection, it had drawn him directly to the temple and there he found a treasure trove of knowledge about a goddess that the magical worshipped. She was called by The Mother by her followers and Hecate to outsiders. This pull made him gravitate towards Potter, even though it was weak it was still there.
Breathing in, he squared his shoulders and finally opened the door.
Nothing.
There was nothing inside his room. It was as he left it earlier in the morning. But the tug did not stop there he slowly inched towards the bed.
His mind began to whir as to why his magic leads him to his bed. Perhaps he was fatigued from the endless planning? He did not feel tired. Nevertheless, he got ready for bed. Dismissing an elf, as it popped in his chambers to inform him of dinner which he told it that he would not be eating today.
He lay down, a creeping dread crawling in his chest. But before he could contemplate what this could mean, a blanket of weariness covered his mind and he knew no more.
____
His mind registered a soft melody first. He opened his eyes to the polished stone ceilings. He hurriedly stood up, his hand reached for his wand. Only to find his sleeve empty of his familiar wooden yew.
He surveyed his surroundings and realized this was the same hallway leading to his throne room. The Dark Lord expected the music to stop since this was his mindscape. He was never one for this kind of music, muggle pop felt unsavory to his ears. He preferred classical.
But the melody surrounding him continued until he heard a voice sing along to it.
"You know I want you"
It took him a moment to register that the deep voice singing along with the music was his own. The darkest Dark Lord, Voldemort, singing to a muggle song? Singing, even? Blasphemous. This was his bloody mind, he was the master of mind arts. The greatest student to ever walk in Hogwarts' halls, Head boy. But here he was in his bloody mind, singing.
Who did he want? He didn't feel any pull sexually or otherwise to anyone.
"It's not a secret I try to hide"
His smooth voice dropped an octave.
What was he? A girl? He was the darkest and most powerful wizard in history. He can't be acting like some lovesick fool.
But then as his mouth finishes singing the lyric, his body moved forward. Elegantly, which Voldemort was at least thankful for.
"I know you want me"
He was the most powerful Dark Lord, of course, they want him. A failed attempt to stop his mouth from uttering this lyric was made when he sang this cheesy lyric.
His body kept gliding across the halls, purposeful strides leading him directly in front of the doors to his throne.
"So don't keep sayin' our hands are tied"
Hands are tied? Then use magic to free yourself you bloody shit. You don't have to sing it.
The force controlling his body made him linger by the ominous doors. Just gazing up upon it.
"You claim it's not in the cards"
"And fate is pullin' you miles away"
"And out of reach from me"
He pushed open the doors in front of him, as if to make a statement. He slowly walked towards the throne he was just sitting for what, seemingly, was a few minuets ago.
Voldemort proceeds to inwardly fume, his eyes were the only thing that betrayed his anger, contrasting to his smooth and relaxed movements. Ruby eyes, flashed with anger and resignation.
"But you're here in my heart"
"So who can stop me if I decide"
"That you're my destiny?"
On the first line, he rose to the elevated platform of his throne. On the second, he didn't sit on it, he reached out a hand and caressed the carved stone. And as he dragged the third line, Voldemort circled it slowly, hand still firmly in place.
Now that he had resigned himself to whatever was happening, he paid closer attention to the lyrics. There was a recipient of these words and they were parted because of something. The question now was what and who.
----------------------------------------------------
The Savior sat on his crimson bed on Gryffindor Tower, he contemplated his place as the boy-who-lived. His best friend had already fallen asleep, along with the rest of his House. He thought of the hardships he had to endure because he was Harry Potter, prophesized vanquisher of The Dark Lord, Voldemort.
Generally, he thought of his life. With the Dursleys, finding out about the Wizarding World, entering Hogwarts, meeting his ffriends, and each year he was forced to undergo trials again and again.
His buried inhibitions finally spilled from the locked chest hidden behind his mind. It was not a coincidence that the said trials since first year, only targeted him specifically.
Sure most of the time it was Voldemort executing them, but some of them like the timed Azkaban breakout and the Triwizard Tournament seemed too convenient to be coincidental.
The thought of Sirius had Harry's eyes darkening. Even if he didn't know that much about Sirius nonetheless he still wanted the feeling of family Sirius was willing to give to his godson.
Harry longed for something he couldn't have, something he craved from someone like Sirius. He wanted to feel safe, loved, and happy. It was not much to ask for, was it? He could die happily in Voldemort's wand if he was given a moment of someone’s full attention, and be just Harry for a minute.
Biting back a sob, the 16-year old teen decided that that was enough self-deprecation for today.
He slipped under the covers and placed his glasses on his nightstand. It took a few moments before his breathing evened out.
________
Harry opened his eyes to a semi-dark hallway. An unknown bluish glow lightly illuminated the area.
Panic crawled into his throat which he swallowed back quickly. This was not the time to panic, he thought. He was in an unknown hallway with multiple doors in each side. He exhaled shakily, before standing up with a slight tremble in his hands.
The hallway was carved out of smooth stone, with unmoving portraits and a lush velvet carpet. He observed his surroundings for a few more minutes before reaching for his wand.
The teen patted himself down, looking for the familiar Holly.
When he deduced that his wand was missing, now his only option was to keep walking. Quietly.
Slowly he put one foot in front of the other, until he acquired a steady pace.
After a few minuet of endless walking, his heart almost leaped out from his chest when music started playing all around him.
Confusion colored his tan face, but that's when he heard a voice singing along with the music.
Finally, a person. But he had to be wary, what if the owner of the smooth baritone, a man, was an enemy? With that in mind he sneakily power walked towards the voice.
He walked until he arrived at an open door.
Harry peeked inside to see a dark haired man, circling a chair with the man's eyes strained on the said object. A throne, he realized, if the podium was to be observed. As he listened further in whatever the richly robed man was singing, the teenager's heart hammered in his chest.
"What if we rewrite the stars?"
He sang in the deepest voice Harry had ever heard, rich and dark like melted chocolate. The man looked up to the ceiling and revealed his bobbing adams apple.
"Say you were made to be mine"
The other clutched his chest, right above where is heart is supposed to be and looked down. His voice rumbled sensually in his chest as he sang the line.
"Nothing could keep us apart"
"You'd be the one I was meant to find"
He looked up, making his face visible to his one man audience.
Harry's breath caught, he knew those handsome features. He saw that face contort in agony as he was taken over by a bright light. He looked older, maybe in his twenties. But it seems that Tom Riddle was one of those people who became more handsome with age.
His face burned red in shame at his previous appreciation to Tom Riddles appearance. But was creepy was his eyes, like Voldemort's, were crimson red.
"It's up to you, and it's up to me"
Tom Riddle, let go of his chest an gestured in front of him and then pointing to himself. His action passionate and emotional, but also elegant and explosive.
There was no way this was Voldemort, because that monster looked like a snake-like hybrid. But as Harry looked into the others eyes he saw something, anger and frustration. A big contrast to his performance right now.
"No one can say what we get to be"
"So why don't we rewrite the stars?"
"Maybe the world could be ours tonight"
At the first line, Riddle's left hand pressed on his chest and his right arm outstretched as if to take someones hand.
At the second lyric, he stepped off the podium.
And at the third he stretched his arms wide and looked up, and as his line ended his arms fell to his side.
Harry stared at the man, and his eyes widened when a different voice sang this time. Softer and higher than the twenty year old Tom Riddles.
"You think it's easy"
It was his voice. What the fuck.
He full blown panicked when he stepped out of his hiding spot behind the door frame. Bloody shit, he couldn't fucking control his body.
He leaned against the door as Riddle turned to look at him in shock, a contrasting smile on his face.
Harry thinks he knows why this Voldemort was singing like a diva.
"You think I don't wanna run to you"
Harry body, made him look away from the man, and he crossed his arms.
"But there are mountains"
He pushed of the door frame and turned to walk away from the older man, who is assumed is actually Voldemort.
"And there are doors that we can't walk through"
He attempted to walk away from the room. Key word, attempted. He was roughly pulled back and he stumbled into the room. Harry blushed as he felt the firm chest against his back and the strong arms wrapped around his embarassingly small waist. It was not his fault he was smaller than boys his age.
"I know you're wondering why because we're able to be "
"Just you and me within these walls"
Harry's body twined both of their fingers together in the first line. To his mortification and embarrassment, the man caressed him back.
The younger leaned back into the other man's chest as he kept singing the second line.
"But when we go outside, you're gonna wake up and see"
Harry rested his head against the mans chest, why was he so god damned tall?
"That it was hopeless after all"
The teens soft and sweet voice colored with sadness and hopelessness.
Harry struggled to break free in the olders arms, not that he minded. No, he definitely minded, he would totally try to break free. He succeeded. Surprisingly.
His body the ran towards the throne and Harry once again panicked as his body made no move to stop but instead gained momentum.
His right arm reached out and grabbed a broom out of nowhere, Harry closed his eyes readying himself for the pain.
But the pain didnt come. But instead a familiar earthy smell assulted his senses, and a familiar thrill ran through his body. He opened his eyes and saw the beautiful scenery of the Forbidden forest. He straddled he broom and took off. He flew it until he was above the huge trees. The night sky glittering beautifully above him.
A wonderful place for a couple.
That thought flashed through his mind right before he began singing again.
--------------------------------------------
Voldemort was baffled at the Potter boys appearance in his mind. He knew that the link connected them somehow, but that’s why he has his Occlumency shields up for 24 hours a day. The boy couldn't possibly be in here, but against all odds here Potter was. Typical.
What made him sure that it was actually the brat was the fire in his eyes. The spark of defiance, the trait that Voldemort can't help but admire cannot be imitated by a measly illusion.
It was one of the few things he appreciated in other wizard and witches. Although most that defy him would immediately face the tip of his wand, but something about the boys fiery personality made him different from the rest of other idiotic and moronic witches and wizards.
He may be seen as a crazy, sadistic, megalomaniac, Dark Lord but even he could give credit where credit was due. Even if he doesn't say it out to others.
He ran to catch up with the boy. Contemplating the tender moment they had, even if they were both not control of their own bodies.
The panicked look in Potter's eyes, cemented his thought that this was the real Harry Potter.
The world faded around them, he looked around and realized that he had lost the boy.
A soft breeze blew above him and a melodic voice continued to sing.
"No one can rewrite the stars"
Voldemort looked up and saw the boy riding on a broom soaring through the trees of the Forbidden Forest. He recognized the tall trees and the ethereal darkness that he appreciated.
An ache made itself known in his chest, what is this?
"How can you say you'll be mine?"
The ache intensifies, Voldemort once again clutched his chest with a soft grunt. At this point he didn't notice this movement was his own accord. He voluntarily chased after Harry, he had already lost himself in the music and their chase.
"Everything keeps us apart"
Not if he could do anything about it. Deftly, he stopped by a low branched tree and started to climb up. It was unbecoming to be climbing a tree like some desperate school boy. The last time he's climbed a tree was when he was still in the orphanage. Horrible times.
"And I'm not the one you were meant to find"
When he reached an adequate level of height, uncharacteristically, he recklessly jumped at the passing and singing boy.
Voldemort gripped the wooden handle of the broom. Harry looked down at the dangling Dark Lord, cofusion in his eyes along with shock at the man's action.
Voldemort hoisted himself to sit behind Harry and he wrapped his arms around the teen.
"It's not up to you"
"It's not up to me"
Harry looked over his shoulder to stare at the man embracing him, pain evident his eyes. Tom pressed his forehead against Harry's, closing his eyes.
"When everyone tells us what we can be"
Harry sang somberly, an luminous green smoke gathered around them as Harry slowed down the broom in the trees canopy. Translucent illusions appeared around them, creating a wall of their enemies and allies. They seperated as they looked at the familiar faces.
An army of Death Eaters and the Order of Phoenix members floated around them, glaring at the embracing duo. While Harry and Tom stared at them with sad and protective eyes, respectively.
"How can we rewrite the stars?"
"Say that the world can be ours"
"Tonight"
Harry continued to bellow out the lyrics, an uknown desperation evident in his voice.
They broke free from the wall of judgemental gazes and flew into the sky until the world around them disappeared and they are surrounded by the light of the stars and and dazzling dark canvas of space. The broom disappeared along with it.
"All I want is to fly with you"
"All I want is to fall with you"
They sang together, Tom flipped Harry so that they were facing each other with their heads pressed together again. Tom gripped Harry's face in a gentle hold.
"So just give me all of you"
They sang as Harry wrapped his arms around Tom's neck and looked into those beautiful ruby eyes. His own Avada Kedavra ones shining with a plea.
"It feels impossible"
Harry rapidly fired at the man.
"It's not impossible"
Tom answered back, wrapping his arms tightly around Harry's small waist. He buried his face against the tan shoulders.
"Is it impossible?"
Harry sang again, a tiny sliver of hope in his voice.
"Say that it's possible"
The sang in unison, their words resonating into their very souls.
Their magic reacted to this, and around them a soft green and a deep burgundy colored magics sparked the space around them.
Unseen to them a luminous and unbreakable red thread tied around both of their middle fingers glowed brightly. This string that tied them, was once just a transparent and brittle thread, now it cemented their connection. Down to their very soul.
"How do we rewrite the stars?"
"Say you were made to be mine?"
They broke apart and Tom took Harry's both hands. He lead the younger further into the sky. They smiled warmly at each other.
"Nothing can keep us apart"
"Cause you are the one I was meant to find"
Tom twirled Harry, the boy laughed happily through the impending dizziness he felt.
Tom felt happy, for the first time in his life he felt a warm emotion inside his heart. He didn't know if it was affection, appreciation, or obsession. But all that he knew was that this boy with his airily tinkling laugh, made him content and happy.
"It's up to you"
"And it's up to me"
They danced through the cosmos, singing and laughing along to the music.
"No one can say what we get to be"
"And why don't we rewrite the stars?"
Tom pointed towards the vast depths of space. Staring at his darling's glittering eyes as they shined with wonder and amazement.
"Changing the world to be ours"
They looked into each others eyes and kissed each other deeply, desperately, as the world around them melted away, leaving them back into the middle of the throne room in each other arms.
Their magic danced around them, once again creating a beautiful display of colors around them.
"You know I want you"
And as their magic fades away, Harry looked up to Tom.
"It's not a secret I try to hide"
The boy-who-lived broke free from his arms.
"But I can't have you"
Harry shook his head as Tom tried to follow him.
He took many steps backwards, his eyes sad and longing. But still he turned his hack to the man he dearly wanted.
"We're bound to break and my hands are tied"
Harry walked away just as both of their bodies fades away from the room.
______
Voldemort, Tom snapped his eyes open, breathing deep ragged breaths. A lone tear making it way down his chiseled cheeks. Dark determination then glowed into those bloody gaze.
He knew what he wanted, and what he wanted he'd burn the world to get it.
-------------------------------
Harry woke up gasping, before breaking down into ugly sobs. Fat tears flowing down his tan cheeks, he burrowed deeper into his plush bed.
Longing for something he couldn't have.