The Little One with Green Eyes

44: Necessary

-December 4, 1991-
Voldemort had just fallen asleep, exhausted from spending the day with his hyperactive toddler who didn't know when to quit, and Death, who was a total enabler and was no help whatsoever at getting the child to calm down enough to go to bed. Once Little One had finally been tucked in and sent off to sleep, Death had followed Voldemort to his bedroom before they collapsed into bed, asleep in mere seconds.

Voldemort had never been able to sleep easily before, but somehow Death made it easy for Voldemort to fall asleep in a matter of minutes instead of hours. It was so comfortable and warm in the bed, Death's arm wrapped around his waist in a protective gesture, and Voldemort had sunk into the peaceful oblivion almost instantly.

Only for his alarm to go off an hour later, startling Voldemort and Death so badly, the pair fell out of the bed. Voldemort groaned, the blaring alarm causing his ears to ring. Voldemort cursed quietly in parseltongue before he silenced the alarm, standing to his feet with the assistance of Death.

"What's going on?" Death asked, looking at Voldemort in confusion. "Did you forget something in the oven?"

"No," Voldemort said, summoning his robes wandlessly. "That's the alarm for the New Ministry. Lucius is calling me, so something must have happened."

"It's probably nothing," Death said, his face screwed up in a mixture of emotions that Voldemort didn't have the time to decipher. "You should just ignore it. Come back to bed."

The offer was tempting, especially when Death wrapped his arms around Voldemort's waist and began to pepper light kisses up the path of his neck, but Voldemort resisted. "I can't," he said mournfully, twisting out of the being's grip. "It might be something important. It's my duty to check it out."

"It's your duty to check it out at one o'clock in the morning?" Death asked, raising an eyebrow.

Was it really that early? A quick tempus charm proved that it was, in fact, one AM. With a scowl, Voldemort got dressed, quickly getting himself ready for whatever Lucius needed from him. "It better be world-ending important," Voldemort muttered to himself as he fixed his bed-hair. "Or he'll find out just how much I am not a morning person."

Just as Voldemort moved to open the door, Death caught his elbow, tugging him back into his chest. "Stay." he purred into his ear. Voldemort caught the being's wandering hands with a tight grip, stepping out of his hold.

"While I appreciate your enthusiasm," Voldemort drawled. "I really must go. I'll be back soon, but the longer you hold me up, the longer it'll take to settle whatever mess Lucius has gotten himself into."

Death is frowning at him now, and Voldemort eyes the pouting being with confusion. "Don't go."

"What's the matter?" Voldemort asks, crossing his arms. "You're not usually so clingy. What's going on?"

Death just looked away from him, refusing to meet his gaze. "Stay."

"Why?" Voldemort asked again, only to huff when Death gave no response. "Look, I have to go. We can talk about whatever this---" Voldemort gestured to Death's tense form. "---is when I get back. Okay?"

Death said nothing as Voldemort stood there, waiting for a response. Finally, he dipped his head down in assent, and Voldemort nodded back at him. With one final backward glance at the confusing entity, Voldemort grabbed the door handle and left the bedroom.

As the door was closing he could Death whisper softly, "Please be careful." before the door clicked shut behind him. Voldemort frowned in confusion, Death's strange behavior at the forefront of his mind as he walked briskly to the apparition zone.