Dark Lord's Pet

Eat. Now.

Voldemort

Voldemort frowned at Harry. His new pet was currently sound asleep, and hadn't even reacted when he had picked him up earlier, nor when he'd informed the child he was now the Dark Lord's pet. There hadn't been any emotions when he'd been faced with the dog bed and dishes.

Even when faced with the fridge, for the child surely had to be ravenous (he had identified longing in the glance directed at it), Harry had shown no further interest, and had merely curled up and fallen asleep.

With an irritated huff, he went over and began preparing breakfast. He would have been totally hopeless in the kitchen without his magic to aide him, and even using it to assist him, all he was capable of making was simply crafted eggs, bacon and some buttered toast with jam. After arranging healthy portions into Harry's bowl, he sat down at the table with his own plate and prodded Harry gently in his clearly defined ribs with the toe of his boot.

The child shot upright, searching the room using only his eyes in a panic, until his sights fixated on Voldemort, and for reasons unbeknownst to him, calmed down somewhat. Harry's eyes settled on the food, and the light that had been in the child's eyes immediately after he awoke dimmed. 

Now Harry looked upon the food with complete apathy written into the lines of his face. He settled himself down comfortably in the dog bed, closing his eyes, with the clear intent of falling asleep once more.

"Potter!" Voldemort barked harshly, the child's eyelids slowly rising in answer, dead eyes meeting sparking red ones.

The lack of emotion was infuriating. He reached down, grasping both of his hands beneath the boy's armpits. Angrily, Voldemort settled Harry onto his lap, then dipped down to retrieve the newly acquired pet bowl on the table, his other arm secure around the boy's waist to prevent him from falling.

"Eat!"

Glaring with all his might, he met Harry's dead eyes. Harry just blinked, then sneezed. Voldemort took in the reddened cheeks and nose again, as well as the watery eyes. He placed one hand on the child's brow and frowned at the boy's fever hot skin. He contacted his wand, and muttered a quick healing charm . The flush receded to a faint pinkness in his cheeks, and the eyes gained a level of clarity that was disarming in one so young, though when Voldemort looked into them, all he saw was death. Not his, but Harry's.

"Listen to me, are you listening to me?" Voldemort said harshly, his voice taking on a sibilant edge as it did when he was in a temper.

Green eyes blinked, and slowly, Harry nodded.

"Good. Because I make the rules here. You are going to eat your breakfast, as well as any and all food I provide for you in future. Got it?" another slow nod in response, "You got that because now you're my pet. I own you body and soul, and I don't give a damn how you feel. Eat. Now."