On the Other Side

~V~

 When Harry woke some time later, he felt even more drained, than before he fell asleep, his head heavy and pounding with dull ache. He opened his eyes slowly to look at his "living pillow": Voldemort was still unconscious, it seemed, his brow furrowed and mouth twisted in a tired grimace. Harry raised his head and his eyes opened wide in surprise – they were not on the empty plane of the Death realm anymore, instead he saw dusty curtains above him. Lifting his head higher, Harry saw the unfamiliar room: most of its space was taken by a big bed he and Voldemort shared. There was also a cold fireplace, a wardrobe of some kind, small table with mirror, two closed doors and a window to the side. Everything was dusty, like the curtains, the sheets underneath him felt old, worn out, damp and dusty, as well, the chandeliers on the shelf above the fireplace, near the mirror and on bedside tables were empty, the only gray light coming from the half curtained window, indicating that it was either early morning or evening outside.

"You better wake up," Harry shook the man on whose chest he was lying by his shoulders. "Tom!"

"Don' call me tha'!" The Dark Lord slurred sleepily, not opening his eyes.

"You need to see this!"

"Wha – ?"

"Wake up, dammit!" Harry shook Voldemort more violently and raised his hand to slap the man on his cheek.

"Don't you dare!" still not opening his eyes warned him Voldemort.

Harry sighed and, smirking suddenly, bent down and planted an open-mouthed kiss on the man's grimacing lips. Red eyes flew open in surprise, immediately narrowing at the sight of smirking Harry.

"Didn't think we are at this stage already," Voldemort commented.

"What, you think sex is not a reason to get acquainted?" Harry snorted. Then his expression turned serious. "You better tell me you know where we are."

Voldemort tore his gaze from Harry and looked around.

"Looks like my secret hideout," he muttered, recognition dawning on him.

"What?!"

"This is one of my houses," Voldemort elaborated. "In Albanian mountain forest, to be precise."

"How did we end up here?" Harry wondered.

Voldemort shrugged without an ounce of worry:

"Quite possibly my safety spell brought us here. Though it's strange, that it brought you along, too," he added thoughtfully.

"I am your soul-piece, maybe, that's why?" Harry offered.

Voldemort nodded:

"Might be the case."

"So it seems, our plan did work!" Harry exclaimed. "Just not right away."

"Right. Now, will you move off from my persona?" Voldemort drawled with warning in his tone.

Harry quickly rolled off him and sprang away from the bed, frantically searching for his wand, while Voldemort did the same, though, with less nervousness to his movements.

At last they both found their wands and simultaneously pointed them at each other.

"Are we going to duel?" Harry asked tensely.

"Why, of course!" drawled Voldemort in a silky tone. "Do you object?"

"May I at least have some clothes on?" Harry inquired tentatively. "You're naked, too, by the way."