If Paths Diverge

Chapter 35

The wards parted for him effortlessly, despite Harry not expecting to be welcome here. It warmed his heart that Voldemort obviously keyed him in even though they were not speaking. But he would not be distracted by sentimentality.

He threw open the front doors and closed his eyes to feel where Voldemort was.

Upstairs.

Harry ran up the steps, using the banister to pull himself forward faster, and followed his senses to take him to the door he was sure Voldemort was behind.

This room was warded too, but the protections melted back at his touch and Harry burst in, his heart beating in his throat.

Voldemort was kneeling on the hearthrug, his long fingers cradling his bowed head. Harry ran forward and pulled the hands back. Red eyes immediately sought his and widened, but they were unfocused and Harry could tell he was still trapped in his tortured mind.

"Hey, it's me, it's Harry," he said, stroking the man's skin where he was holding him.

Voldemort flinched, his head ducking down. Fuck. Harry let go and then placed his hands firmly on either side of Voldemort's trembling face.

"I'm here, baby," he whispered, and he saw a slight frown form between his brows. "It's me. Harry. You're safe, I've got you."

He was rubbing the soft, smooth skin and the contact was sending thrills of electricity through him. Merlin, it was almost painful it was so good.

"You're okay, I promise."

The man's eyes were clearing and his body slowly began to relax, though the frown grew deeper. Voldemort's red eyes met his and he pulled Harry's hands down from his face.

"If you call me that again, I will eviscerate you, Potter."

Harry laughed, reaching out to stroke down the man's cheek once more, unable to stop touching him.

"Merlin, I missed you."

Voldemort looked away and then pulled himself off of the floor. Should he insist that they talk about his panic attacks? Harry was well-familiar with them after all and could help.

"How bad are they?" he asked recklessly, in a small voice.

"They," Voldemort repeated, but the warning was clear.

Harry watched him stride to the dark window, keeping his back to him.

"Your panic atta—"

"Silence!" Voldemort hissed, and Harry felt the waves of Dark magic crash against him.

He closed his eyes for a moment and basked in the feeling of being surrounded by Voldemort's power again. Slowly, he opened his eyes and tried for nonchalance.

"Look, it's no big deal. I get them too."

"Fascinating," Voldemort said, his tone scathing.

Harry snorted and picked himself up off the hearthrug. He looked around and settled into one of the armchairs by the fire.

"Alright," Harry said, undaunted. "I'm not here to force you to confront your demons or anything. I just... I knew you were struggling and since I wanted to see you anyway, I figured I'd take the chance."

Voldemort was looking out the window, his posture tense. Harry sighed. This was not how he'd envisioned their reunion going.

He stood and walked to the other man. Unable to help himself, he gently laid a hand in the crook of Voldemort's elbow. It was not shaken off and Harry rejoiced at that minuscule victory.