HP/LV One Shot

A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes 1-2

covered in blood and chalk. He can't even wipe his hands on his shorts like Dudley does, because he would get in trouble for ruining Dudley's hand-me-downs.

Harry claps his hands together, trying to smack the dust away, like how his teachers do when their chalkboard brushes collect too much chalk in them.

This creates a cloud of dust that puffs upwards into Harry's face. Harry twitches, stumbling back, but he is too late.

He sneezes.

Voldemort says. "And you will summon me here, and I will appear."

The youngling blinks. "With the moon and star?"

Crude, but not incorrect. "Yes."

The human's hand reaches into a pocket and retrieves something with quick fingers. Then the tiny hand splays out, palm up, fingers unclenched to reveal a few centimeters worth of pink children's chalk.

The chalk is not what catches Lord Voldemort's attention.

What Voldemort notices is the damaged skin of the palm, too rough to have been intentional. Blood sacrifice is required for an initial summoning, of course, but this is... primitive. Even for a human.

"Pass that to me," Voldemort says, and lifts his own hand, pale and bony, claws extended.

It hesitates. Voldemort raises a brow. "You promised me anything, did you not? And I have promised you what you desire."

The pink chalk is quickly deposited into his clawed grasp. So eager, this one. Voldemort closes his hand around the offering and hums deep in the back of his throat.

When his hand reopens, the chalk piece is whole and untouched.

"Wow!"

Voldemort places the chalk back into the youngling's care.

"Thank you, Mister V—" The mouth gapes around the name once more, fumbling. The tiny human's cheeks redden with colour, like an apple ripe for the picking. "Vol-did-more," says the youngling cautiously.

Voldemort sighs, pats the untamed patch of hair on the top of the human's head with his large, clawed hand. "You may call me 'Tom'."

The green eyes brighten with delight. "Mr. Tom! Thank you, Mr. Tom!"

Voldemort grins, long, pointed teeth on full display. A nightmarish sight for most, but this little human only continues to beam up at him. Absolutely divine.

"Do you have a name, small one?" Voldemort croons, tracing a single claw over the forehead of the youngling, brushing its hair aside.

There is power in names. Names of humans are required to seal contracts. Even if he and this human have not sealed their formal agreement just yet, Lord Voldemort has decided he would like the name of this one. He would like to hear it.

"My name," declares the human child, sunlight blinding off of the lens of its glasses as it jerks its chin up proudly, "is Harry Potter

Chapter 2: Bonus Scene

After Mr. Tom vanished back to where he had come from, Harry was left standing alone on the sidewalk, pink chalk clutched in hand. Harry was still amazed by how Mr. Tom had fixed it. The chalk looked brand new, like no one had ever used it before.

“Don’t lose it,” Harry mumbled to himself. “Don’t lose it.” This pink chalk would be how he would call Mr. Tom back in three days. He had to keep it safe until then, which meant keeping it away from all of the Dursleys.

Harry untucked the hem of his shirt—the shirt that was a little too big for him because it had belonged to Dudley—and rolled the chalk up in it. Then he tucked the rest of the shirt back in and looked over the result. That ought to work until he could get back to his cupboard and hide it away.

Once the chalk was hidden away, a sudden bolt of excitement ran through him. Mr. Tom was going to find him a friend! Harry wanted to jump and skip and shout with joy.

What would his new friend look like? Would they like the same things as Harry? Would they want to play games and draw together? Harry tried to picture his mysterious new friend and failed. Maybe he should have asked Mr. Tom more questions, but he hadn’t wanted to be rude about it.

Really, Harry would be happy with any friend. Even if they didn’t like to do the same things, Harry was willing to learn to do the things they liked.

And—and maybe once they were here, they could ask if Mr. Tom wanted to play with them as well.

Harry thought about that idea for some time. The three of them could all be friends. Mr. Tom was the nicest person Harry had ever met, and Harry was just as excited to see Mr. Tom again as he was to meet his new friend.

The happy feeling in his chest grew stronger. Harry began to walk back to Number 4, Privet Drive. He had never been more eager to get home and go to sleep. One sleep would bring him that much closer to having all his dreams come true.