the snake, the soul and the lovers

Albedo

They left the dining room walking side by side, reaching the training room without exchanging any words. Voldemort opened the door for him, and he ducked inside, finding himself standing in the middle of a beautiful theater. It resembled the Room of Requirements, with tall white walls, mirrors and mannequins scattered around. A big dais stood on the far wall, perfect for dueling, and numerous other things filled the rest of the room. Voldemort took his hand, guiding him to the nearest mannequin.

"Do you have your wand?" Harry shook his head. He vaguely remembered leaving it on the door of the Manor, but nothing else.

"They put it inside your bedside drawer. You never thought to check?"

"I... never felt the need."

"Hm." not saying anything more about that, Voldemort produced his own wand from his robe. Yew, thirtheen and a half inches long, with a phoenix feather core. Harry took it, and a soft light spread from its tip.

"It will work for you well. Now, why don't you show me what you're capable of."

Harry stood in front of the mannequin and took a deep breath. Like during the fight, he felt a warm presence on his shoulder, and a faint voice guiding his hand in the air. She was speaking, and now, he could finally follow - the Dark had chosen him, Her voice was his home now.

" Seco ," he said, doing a slating motion, and the mannequin fell to the floor in two halves.

Huh, talk about anticlimactic.

Voldemort clapped twice.

"That is one simple but effective cutting spell. Seco, literally, to cut , in Latin. Very elegant motion. She suggested it?"

Harry nodded, and the mannequin put itself back together. Useful.

"It will cut as much as you want it to cut. Try a bit less, imagine barely touching the surface..." Voldemort's solid body was behind him, hands guiding him and voice soft in his ear. Harry tried again, focusing on putting just a tiny bit amount of power into the spell, then he moved his wand again. " Seco."

This time, a very defined cut spread down the mannequin surface, a dark line - precise and sharp.

"Beautiful, you are a natural, Harry." Voldemort's voice was velvet smooth, deep and curling just a tad around the vowels. It made his blood boil and his hair rise on his skin, and Harry squirmed. He would be a great teacher.

"Now, what do you want to try?"

They spent hours together in the training room. Harry cast spell after spell, feeling the Dark seep into his flesh and take a hold on his soul. But it was gentle, it was kind, and she guided his hands and his voice. Showed him impossible things, and beautiful things. He made the mannequin fly, and catch fire, and dance. He cut and destroyed and smashed. And then, Voldemort took his hand into his and whispered healing spells and mending ones, to repair and rectify and heal. And it was so gentle he felt tears closing off his throat, because the Dark loved being used to fix things, because only magic used with emotions could cure as deeply.

They left just as lunch was called, and walked back to the table. This time, the Malfoys left them the head seat and the one previously occupied by Narcissa, and Voldemort took them.

Lucius clared his voice, "My Lord, you had a nice training session?" he asked, unsure. Harry sat on Narcissa's seat, at the Dark Lord's left.

"Yes, we had fun. Harry has a pure talent for the Dark, it's almost moving ."

Lunch was fairly quick and quiet after that.

Before they left, Voldemort announced: "Call your tailor for tomorrow morning. And prepare for saturday. We will have the Inner Circle for dinner."