What a Handshake Can Do (Drarry)

Year 5: Part 7

Harry walked down the dark stones of the Department of Mysteries,  glancing at the shelves lining the hallway. The thoughts of his lord crowded his mind, whispering inside his head. Find the prophecy, find the prophecy.

He clenched his fists, trying to keep himself calm as he walked through the hallways. Find the prophecy, find the prophecy. His own thoughts had melted into Voldemort's over the past few months. He couldn't be sure of anything anymore, Voldemort could make him see whatever he wanted, think whatever he wanted. And right now he wanted the prophecy that Trelawney had made all those years ago. 

Harry spotted something on one of the shelves, one of the prophecies. He grabbed the sphere, seeing his name written across a small tag. Harry Potter. 

He slipped it into the folds of his robes, turning to leave when he saw them. 

Two people were walking down the hallway, one significantly smaller than the other. They both wore dark robes, hiding their faces. The bigger one appeared to be talking, "This is important,  you have to join us."

The smaller one responded, sounding very young in comparison to the other man. "I can't, father, I, I don't think it's a good idea."

They came closer, walking rather slowly. The tall one, the other's father evidently, spoke, "You don't have a choice in this Draco, you are going to do it and that's the end of it."

Harry sucked in his breath, retreating even further into the darkness. Draco. It was Draco and Mr. Malfoy! He had to run! But he also wanted to eavesdrop longer. Master? he called out into his head, knowing Voldemort could hear him, what should I do?

He seemed amused, Listen. 

Draco stepped in front of the shelves Harry was hiding behind. "Why are you making me do this?"

His father halted, putting a hand on his shoulder. Harry could tell it wasn't a comforting gesture, it was commanding. "You don't have a say in this, Draco. You are going to become a Death Eater and that's the end of it."

With that Mr. Malfoy marched onward, his son lagging behind. 

Draco sighed, resting against the shelf. Harry looked up at him, staring in awe at him. He's on our side? he said to his master. 

He will be. I can sense your loneliness. Consider it a gift for good behavior. 

Harry grinned, standing up and putting an arm on Draco. The blonde jumped, turning to Harry with wide eyes. "H-Harry? What are you doing here?"

"I'm doing stuff for ma- the Dark Lord. Why are you here?"

Draco shrugged, "I'm guessing you heard."

Harry nodded, stepping slightly closer to Draco and smiling. "Yeah I did," he said softly, heart pounding like it hadn't in a long time. 

He had felt so empty these past few weeks, but now he felt something stir in his stomach. He didn't know exactly what it was, but he wanted to learn. He wanted to find out more. And Draco was the only one who could make him feel it. 

But Draco didn't seem to be feeling the same. He backed away from Harry, face unreadable. "Look, I can't talk right now," he nodded towards the direction his dad went, "my father is waiting."

Harry reached out a hand as if to stop the boy, but still Draco walked away, only giving him one last glance, blonde hair shining even in the dim light. 

Harry frowned, crossing his arms and leaning against the Department wall. He felt a cold presence approaching him, long fingers threading through his hair. "What's wrong, pet?"

 Of course Voldemort knew what was wrong. Harry shook his head, wanting to get out of his Lord's grasp, but thinking better of it, "You shouldn't be here."

 Icy cold air washed over Harry. He shivered despite being wrapped in a thick cloak. The Dark Lord didn't seem to have any sort of body heat, radiating a pure chill that shook Harry to the bones. "You don't get to tell me what to do, pet, you don't get to question me."

Harry bowed his head, full of remorse that hasn't been there a few moments ago, "I'm sorry master, it's just, why doesn't Draco want to talk to me? "

He turned to look at the strangely human face of Voldemort, looking into his pure white eyes. Shadows seemed to dance around him, hugging him as if he were a close friend. Voldemort raised a thin eyebrow, "You, Harry, are my little pet. You know what that means?"

 Harry nodded, "It means you have complete control of me, and my complete loyalty and I have to do whatever you say in turn for protection and guidance."

"Very good. Now, I have been teaching you the ways of the Dark, correct?" Voldemort said slowly, as if he were speaking to a small child. 

"N-no," Harry said after thinking for a moment, "not yet, at least... Master."

"I've been in your head, I've given you all you need, you've just yet to access it."

"What does this have to do with Draco?" Harry furrowed his brows. 

"Because you should know by now that if you want something, you have to go after it. School is over in two days, so I'd get to work. Go get what you want."

"Like how you wanted to get Dumbledore out of the way so you brought in Umbridge?"

Voldemort nodded curtly. 

Harry thought, "But Dumbledore just got back after Creavy and Neville got a photo of you! Umbridge is gone!"

Voldemort smirked, "Do you honestly think that those insolent fools could take a picture of me without my knowledge? Nothing happens without me letting it happen. You want Draco, I'm giving you permission to have him, but you must get him yourself, pet."

Harry stuck out his lower lip, turning to the elder wizard, "But why? Why can't you just put me in his head like you're in mine so I can see why he doesn't want me!"

Voldemort took a step forward, gripping a hand around Harry's neck. He squeezed, making Harry gasp. "Do not question me, slave, you do not complain. Do as you are told, do you understand?"

He gave his neck one last squeeze before letting go, watching as Harry fell to his knees, "Yes, master. But, if their conversation is any evidence, it seems he doesn't want to be a Death Eater. What if he isn't on our side?"

Voldemort turned, waving his hand nanchluantly, "You'l figure it out, all part of your training, Harry."

With that, Voldemort pulled out his wand and pointed it at Harry before uttering a spell. Harry watched as the Department of Mysteries and the Dark Lord disappeared, melting into the Slytherin dormitories. 

He was sitting on his bed, curtains drawn tight around it. Somehow he'd ended up in his pajamas. A journal appeared in front of him, black leather bound with green string. His name was already written on the inside in neat handwriting.

He sat back against his pillows, peeking out of the hangings to look at Draco's empty bed.

He began to write. 

----

Hopefully that wasn't all over the place because I honestly can't tell for reasons. I went on a writing high today but I also couldn't keep a single thought in my head so I went back and forth between different stories, and then created like 8 new ones I'll never finish lmao. 

Hope you enjoy and have a nice today... I just realized that there is no word to really describe both day and night and current time, really. Like "Have a nice day... Or night." 

There is no word to encompass both of them...

And this was my thought pattern all day, because now I'm thinking about compasses and orienteering. 

SHUTTING UP NOW! 

BYE BITCHES!