Pieces of Me, Scattered to the Wind

Opposing Shards

The grin that overcame Voldemort's face was sharp and animalistic, his canine teeth appearing sharper than they actually were and his blood red eyes filled with dark hunger. He drank in the sight of his horcrux and marveled at the changes to his appearance that had occurred since the short time between now and the Battle at the Ministry.

Harry's skin was no longer sunken and sallow as it always was and his green eyes no longer spoke of a dull sadness, instead they now burned with power and a ferocity that lit the Dark Lord's blood aflame. The young wizard's aura was still dimmed and hidden but Voldemort had a feeling that if it were to be unleashed that it would overpower the room and that he would drown in it.

"I must say Mr. Potter, out of all my enemies, you are by far the most difficult to not only kill, but to track down." A self-satisfied grin crawled its way over Harry's face.

"Lord Potter." Harry spoke, his voice imperious and condescending in a way that grated on the Dark Lord's nerves.

"I beg your pardon?" He could hardly believe the manner of the other wizard.

"It's Lord Potter. Or Lord Potter-Black to be more specific but I will answer to either." The nerve of his Horcrux to demand he- The Dark Lord- call him by a proper title. He ground his teeth together and his nostrils flared in irritation. The insolent smirk on Harry's face only grew as he watched the visible irritation grow on the face of the Dark Lord.

"Very well," The Dark Lord answered in a tight voice, barely restraining the immense anger he felt. "Lord Potter-Black you are as insolent as ever." Voldemort knew courtesy and even when insulting someone he was going to do it with courtesy befitting the most powerful wizard alive and the Lord of the Ancient and Esteemed House of Slytherin. However the urge to cruciate Harry was overwhelming to say the least.

"Thank you!" Harry exclaimed, clearly taking pleasure in being a pain in Voldemort's ass. "And might I say that you are looking better than ever." Harry ran his eyes appreciatively up and down the length of Voldemort's body before a mischievous and mean look came over his face. "How did you change your looks so quickly? Vitamins? More time in the sun and less time in your torture chambers?" Harry asked in that gleeful and insolent tone and the Dark Lord began to furiously make his way around the table to where Harry sat. Harry let out a fake gasp of surprise, his mouth forming a perfect 'O' and his hand came up to cover his mouth in false scandalization. "Don't tell me you resorted to plastic surgery Tom?"

A snarl erupted out of the Dark Lord's mouth and Harry raised a single eyebrow in boredom as he felt the yew and bone wand of Voldemort being pressed into the side of his throat.

"You insolent whelp." He hissed out, the lines between English and parseltongue blurring as his words came out with that certain snakelike hiss.

"That's not very polite." Harry reprimanding in that godsdamned tone as he moved the wand away with a single finger and stood. Without so much as a hint of movement on his face to forewarn the Dark Lord, Potter's power began to flare around the room stifling everything, licking over every surface as if it were a raging wildfire that, if left unchecked, would consume everything in its way. In the back of his mind the Dark Lord could not help but appreciate how the raging fire of his Horcrux's magic was a sort or match for the icy darkness of his own.

Harry drew his own wand and twirled it between his fingers in a casual gesture. However, it did not fly over Voldemort's head just what Harry was doing.
The casual threat of Harry unleashing his magic as well and drawing his wand meant that he would be perfectly fine with dueling the Dark Lord here and now. And as tempting as that could sound (for Voldemort reveled in the fire in his blood when his own magic clashed with that of Harry's) he needed to bring his Horcrux in under his protection and a fight was not the way to do this.