Compulsion | Harry Potter and Voldemort Mpreg |

Compulsion {Chapter 2}

Harry groaned as he woke up, shaking his head and putting on his glasses. A week had passed since his kidnapping and being brought to Riddle Manor. He stood up and walked to the drawer to grab his clothes. One of the house-elves had been instructed by Voldemort to get him some clothes seeing as how his trunk was still at Hogwarts. Cursing the Dark Lord he walked into the bathroom to get ready.

His stay hadn't been the most unpleasant time. Other then the Death Eater meetings he was forced to go to and the meals he had to sit in with Voldemort. He was just thankful he hadn't been forced to spend time with the man, though he had a feeling that might change. The meetings were as dull as normal, the only entertaining thing was when an idiot decided to get him self Crucio'd. Harry would sit and quietly snicker to himself, ignoring the smirk thrown his way.

He ignored most of the looks that were thrown his way, most looks from the Death Eaters were filled with hate and disgust. When he did acknowledge the looks he wrinkled his nose and stuck out his tongue, silently snickering into this knees. Though, much to utter annoyance he would hear Voldemort chuckle at him and a blush would form over his cheeks. That damn man and his damn sexy chuckles. No! He didn't think that! Never. Ever. Ever.

After a week there he finally realized he wasn't going to be released. He supposed he should have known that from the first night he was here. Spending most of his days staring out at the garden, he tried to come up with ways to escape. Simply walking out, didn't work out as well as he thought.

Harry stood in front of the Entrance Hall door. A large, lavish door leading to a brick and stone steps.

Standing there thinking of how stupid he was being. Voldemort wasn't so stupid to merely let him walk out. There has to some sort of ward or curse to keep him inside. Sighing, he stuck out his hand. Better go ahead and get it over with, at least then he'll know not to touch the doors.

Hesitantly he put his hand on the knob only to pull back with yelp. Shaking his hand he cursed and shook his red and sore palm.

"Stupid boy."

Harry jumped and turned to the hall were Voldemort stood in his normal black robes, a mixture of a frown and smirk on his handsome face. His eyes narrowed as he watched the teen shake his burning hand.

"It's a spell cast and the doors that burns the hand of the person who touches them. Me and the house-elves are the only ones able to touch them, my Death Eaters apparate inside through the Marks."

"Figures you'd have some spell. I knew I shouldn't have touched the door."

"Did you really think I was going to let you escape that easily? I've already told you that you wouldn't be leaving here till the end of your summer. Don't try to escape again. A simple burn will be the least of your worries." Voldemort turned and strode down the hall. Harry glared at his back, his hand having stopped burning. Damn that bastard!

Now he sat in front of the Death Eaters again, planning another attempt. No, he wasn't suicidal, but he couldn't very well sit and wait for the summer to end. What were his friends thinking? Surely the must be worried about him. Not coming back from after the last task. They must have thought him dead. Then Dumbledore. He snorted. Dumbledore. His faith in Dumbledore had shrunk dramatically after this year. He shouldn't have been in that tournament in the first place. Dumbledore could have stopped it. He knew he could have. He was too young and it was too dangerous. Someone should have stopped it from happening. He wouldn't be here if Dumbledore had stopped it.

Harry sighed and burrowed his head into his pulled on knees. He either ignored and didn't notice the hand the ran through his hair and the looks it brought. After the meeting was over, Harry watched as Voldemort sat. His fingers were linked with is chin setting on them.

"Why is it you snorted and had the momentary look of anger on your face?"

"Dumbledore."

The Dark Lord sneered. "What has the bumbling professor of yours do that has angered you?"

"Letting me join the Tri-Wizard Tournament."

"Ah, yes. The forth champion, Harry Potter."

Harry scoffed. "I know you had something to do with me getting my name into that cup. I shouldn't have been allowed to do it in the first place. Dumbledore should have stopped me from doing it. I know he could have."

"Yes, I'm sure with all the supposed power he has I'm sure he could have. Yet he didn't."

Harry stared at the table. Voldemort was right. With all the power Dumbledore held, somehow he could have gotten him out of it. The teens eyes narrowed as he stared.

Voldemort chuckled, he hand moved to rest and run through the boys hair. The Boy-Who-Lived, starting to doubt his Headmaster. What a wonderful day for him. Maybe, just maybe he could get the boy on his side.

"You know Harry, it makes you wonder what else the bumbling idiot could have stopped you from doing and the pain it had cost you."

A wicked smirk appeared on his lips as he watched the wheels start to turn in Harry's head. It may just be easier then he had imagined. Patting the boys head, Voldemort stood.

"Enough of Dumbledore, come. I wish to teach you a few things. You can think over his supposed works for the greater good later."

Harry sighed. This was Voldemort, he shouldn't be doubting Dumbledore. He must have had his reasons...right? Standing he followed the Dark Lord into a library. Glancing around at all the books, his eyes trailed to Voldemort, who stood in the middle. He didn't have his wand so what could he possibly teach him? Walking to stand before the Dark Lord, Harry blushed at the intense gaze the red eyes gave him.

"What do you want to teach me? I don't have a wand and I won't do Dark Magic."

Voldemort sneered. "I'm not going to teach you Dark Magic just yet." He smirked. "I want you to ask for that, I know you will eventually."

The boy scoffed. "I won't."

"You will, but for now I'll teach you how to defend yourself. It was pathetic how easily I got you."

Harry sighed, at least it might do him some good. The next few hours went by quickly. Voldemort had summoned his wand to him for the practice, which surprised him. What surprised him more was he laughed and smiled through the training. He hadn't meant to, really. Harry would watch the Dark Lord and mimic him but they talked. He was a good conversationalist. Who would have thought? Other then the few books he was told to read, it had a nice time. He would never admit it though. You don't have a nice time with the Dark Lord Voldemort. He was still weary of the man of course, but he felt he could relax a little more.

Maybe summer won't be as horrendous as he thought

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