Harry
"Well, Daddy, what's next?" Harry asked, kicking his legs gently like a four year old, still held in Voldemort's arms.
"Call me that again and I'll spank you," Voldemort threatened, glamour falling away to reveal red eyes and white skin.
It was a bit shocking to see how little the man's physicality changed, he grew about an inch taller and his lips thinned back out again, then there was the nose, but he was just as attractive to Harry's eyes as he'd been in the other form.
Maybe (okay almost entirely certain) Harry had developed Stockholm syndrome, he had all the symptoms, but he didn't care. He suspected he might have before, if he'd noticed prior to his death, but now it was like an avalanche on a mountain while he was in a tropical sea.
Death had been interesting for Harry, his magic had flowed through him in a way it had never before, turbulent and overwhelming, changing his chemical makeup. He was a bit nervous, but he decided it was better to do this sooner than later.
Holding his breath as inconspicuously as he could, he dropped his glamour.
Voldemort promptly dropped him.
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Dark Lord's Pet
FanfictionAfter nearly getting killed by his uncle in the August before fifth year, Harry's magic, in a last ditch effort to save him, sends him to a powerful person with a similar magical signature. That person just happens to be one that wants to kill him. ...
