A Mysterious Provocative Partner

Chapter 2

The first thing I register when I wake up is the not-so-godforsaken stench of pungent vomit. Limbs still numb, I roll away from the dirty mess on the ground. Too tired to even open my mouth, I mentally swear immediately once I register the pain in my legs. My wand is in my pocket and I cannot reach over to retrieve it. Physically drained beyond anything I had experienced before, I contemplate just lying there till someone finds me. But then again, whoever found me would probably kill me or report me to the Ministry after that... incident. Honestly, I would accept Death with open arms right about now. At least my legs would stop feeling broken. I lay there for what seems like forever, unable to escape.

In some sick twist of humour, the wooden door I was not aware of creaked. Having gained the energy to move my head, I look around and register that I am in a room. And how nice, someone is going to enter the room, probably to kill me. A black-robed figure enters the room, as silent as a grave and shuts the door swiftly. My mind associates black with death. Adrenaline fills my body, giving me some energy.

I prepare to mutter my final words as the figure reaches out its hand towards me, "The final words," it approaches me but does not pull out its wand.

"Of Harry James," it grabs my left arm tightly and I wince in pain, gritting my teeth.

"Potter: Fu-" I did not manage to finish my sentence before I felt the familiar squeeze of my body. What a surprise, it's going to take me to Voldie. After an agonising second, I materialise into yet another room, only this one is much more cozy. I spot a bed, a drawer and the bit of the walls I can see are painted nicely. The carpet I lie on is soft, comforting even. Suddenly, the pain I feel is slightly relieved. I turn to look at the black figure again but I only catch a glimpse of the black mask the figure dons and the wand it had pulled out of its pocket. I hear the familiar sound of Disapparation and groan deeply. I Accio my wand from my pocket and heal my limbs.

Swearing at my bad luck the past few days, I leapt into the bed's comforting embrace. My brain has been working overtime and a quick nap would help me feel better. As I doze off, thoughts about the mysterious figure permeate my mind.

I awaken to that vermin Voldemort calling me again through my Mark. Just wanting to get rid of the searing pain on my forearm, I press my wand to it. Shortly afterwards, I feel the familiar chill of the Voldemort Fan Club Room. Voldemort sits, twirling his wand nonchalantly, a creepy grin etched onto his face. He gets up and paces back and forth as I try to process what he is going to do.

"Harry, now that you are my servant, you must do what I instruct you to. My first order, servant," he pauses for dramatic effect, stopping in his tracks, "is for you to meet one of my faithful servants." In a flash, a hooded-figure gets up from its seat at the long table.

Impossible, how did I not notice him? He must have casted a strong Notice-Me-Not charm... I muse. Something clicks in my mind and I match his body figure with the figure of the black-robed one that helped me. And the ornately-decorated mask he dons, I do not question it, that is the mysterious figure. Bewilderment fills my mind. Voldemort's faithful servant? Even Draco would have left me to die, I wonder, slightly amused.

The introduction of this mysterious figure could be in my benefit, if I know how to play my cards. The figure strode over and reached out his hand, intending to shake mine. I stare him in the small hole in the mask meant for his eyes and smirk. I noticed a slight movement behind the mask and recognising that he had looked down, my smirk grew and I knew I had asserted dominance. I reached down and shook his hand, only to be met with sharp frigidness. I flinched and realised his hand was like that of Wormtail's; it had been lost and replaced by Voldemort.

This meant that he had really been a faithful servant of Voldemort, the latter having agreed to grant him a new hand. I immediately made a mental note not to let my guard down around him. As if to gain more attention like a little child, Voldemort brusquely declares, "From today onwards, you will be doing my bidding with my servant, and you will kept in check by him, Harry." Etched on Voldemort's face was a look of victory, as if he had finally conquered me. Unbeknownst to him, this would only benefit me. 

I bow down to Voldemort and utter, "Yes, my lord." At this point, it would be best to play into his cards, until I slowly gain the upper hand and defeat him. 

The look on Voldemort's face slowly turns back to seriousness. He divulged, "I have not called you two here only to meet. I have a mission for you two and it is a dangerous assignment, befitting of your combined skills." Once again, I smirk. Another opportunity.

A/N: Please do note this is an AU, and some things I write will not correlate to the canon timeline of events.