In Essence Divided

[ Birthday Surprises ]

Summary: Voldemort is upset that Harry doesn't like his birthday present.

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On the last day of July, Voldemort chose to take breakfast in bed. Harry Potter was standing silently by his side, looking at the wall.

"Happy birthday, Harry."

The boy flinched, his eyes drawn to Voldemort. He hadn't expected him to remember his birthday. "But, of course, I remember your birthday. I even have a present for you."

Harry smiled, a little impertinent. "I hope it's not a cake. Merry already promised to bake me one."

"Merry?"

"One of the house-elves."

"Always a friend to the little people, aren't you, Harry?"

His green eyes hardened. "There is nothing little about house-elves."

"That must be why you enjoy sharing their labour so much."

"I've had worse," said Harry dismissively. How it had infuriated Voldemort in the beginning, how Harry faced even the most menial of tasks with equanimity. He couldn't torture the boy in the normal way, so he had thought to humiliate him instead by turning him into a servant. In this respect, he had been thoroughly thwarted.

Not in others, though. Voldemort got out of bed and stretched out languidly, knowing Harry was trying and failing not to look at him. His lust, shame and guilt were very amusing indeed.

In the end, Voldemort had decided to keep him as a servant, because he was quite good at it. Not only did he work diligently, he also knew when to keep quiet and when to speak up. Voldemort quite enjoyed some of his quips.

He could even stand to be contradicted by Harry when he was in a good mood. It was probably the novelty of it, as it had been so long since any of his servants had been brave enough to disagree with him. Almost all of them were spineless cowards compared to Harry.

Yes, that boy would make a fine Death Eater someday. Voldemort would need to make sure he was well-protected - he needed to be kept alive, after all - but still, he had two spares, so the risk could be borne.

"Oh, I know all of your hardships, Harry," continued Voldemort after exiting the shower. He stood still, letting himself be dressed. Harry's face was stony but a flush was creeping up his neck, revealing his true feelings. "Which is why I'm happy to tell you that your aunt, uncle and cousin are dead."

Harry froze in the middle of brushing Voldemort's hair. Somehow, he missed the rhythmic movements of the brush. "Don't stop," he snapped.

Harry resumed his work. "Did you kill them? Why?" he whispered.

"Isn't it obvious? They abused you."

"You cast the Cruciatus Curse constantly!"

"I am the Dark Lord. They were filthy Muggles who should never have raised their hands against a magical child. Besides, I use the Cruciatus Curse to impress upon my followers the consequences of their incompetence. If they were to do their job properly, I wouldn't need it so much."

"Maybe they would be better at their jobs if they didn't live in constant fear of you."

It was an interesting thought. "Maybe. What about you, Harry? You don't fear me?"

"I don't understand you. Why did you let me live?"

"Because you're a lot more useful to me alive than dead." Harry had finished brushing his hair, so Voldemort turned around and made sure to capture his green-eyed gaze. "One day, Harry Potter, you will pledge yourself to me willingly and bear my mark."