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It was September and Voldemort was feeling restless, in need of a distraction from the long, cold winter ahead, when he wouldn’t want to move too far from a fire for anything.
His plans for taking over magical Britain were well underway, but there was nothing more he could do at the moment to move them along. None of his Death Eaters had failed or disappointed him recently (and what were the chances of that?) – he couldn’t go about cursing them for no reason without damaging morale. He didn’t feel like expending the effort it would take to hunt down and torture one of his political opponents, and playing with muggles just wasn’t enjoyable anymore.
Dare he say it – Voldemort was bored.
Then he remembered Severus reporting that the first Hogsmeade weekend would be in the next few days. A full-scale attack was out of the question, but he could drop in on the Boy Who Lived and ruin his day.
Petty? Yes. Beneath him? Certainly. Would that stop him? Absolutely not.
But perhaps it should have.
After drawing the boy away from his friends to a secluded alley on the outskirts of the village (ludicrously easy, Potter remained reckless), he hit him square in the face with a portkey before apparating away after him. So far, so good.
He appeared and prepared for a good taunting as the boy stumbled around, regaining his equilibrium and reaching for his wand.
Then Voldemort got a good look at his teenage enemy for the first time that day.
Oh.
Oh no.
“Why…” Voldemort choked, before clearing his throat and starting again more firmly. “Potter, why on earth do you have cat ears?”
Something long, black, and fluffy swayed out from behind the boy.
Oh no. Was that a tail?
“Potions accident,” Harry grumbled, pouting. “Blame your peon – Malfoy’s the one who messed with my cauldron.”
Well, the young Malfoy was good for something. He’d have to send him a fruit basket.
“Erm. It looks an awful lot like you’re staring at my arse,” Harry said uncomfortably, keeping an eye on Voldemort as he attempted to circle behind the boy.
“You have a tail, Potter,” Voldemort said, slipping closer. “Why would I bother to look at your arse?”
“Not the first time I’ve heard that…” Harry muttered despondently to himself.
While he was distracted, Voldemort reached out and grabbed the twitching tail.
“Oi!” Harry yowled, spinning around and shooting a dark look at the man. “No! Bad touch.”
Voldemort stared at his hand. He needed to touch that tail again. But. He was Lord Voldemort, a bloody Dark Lord – he couldn’t fall to pieces just because his nemesis was temporarily sporting some furry appendages.
He caught sight of the tail, puffed up and swishing angrily, and threw that line of thought out the proverbial window. He was more the type to take advantage of a situation and consider consequences later than limit his immediate desires, anyway.
Fast as a viper, he shot his hand out to grab the cat-boy’s wrist and pulled his struggling form closer. Then Voldemort rubbed at the base of Harry’s soft, furry cat ears and the boy melted against him.
“Ohhh… Keep doing that,” Harry breathed. Then a soft rumble started up from his chest.
Potter was purring.
The last of Voldemort’s self-control evaporated and he emitted a quiet, high-pitched keen at the cuteness.
Harry was too blissed out to pay this any attention, so Voldemort pushed his luck and stroked the boy’s tail with the hand that had been restraining him. This earned him an enthusiastic nuzzle against his sternum, purrs increasing in volume.
For the first time in a very, very long time, Voldemort felt something like happiness stir in his cold, black heart.
Thankfully, he found a way to make the cat features a permanent part of the boy.
Harry was less thankful for this, but he came around. Eventually. With the help of lots of scritches and fish.
“Potter, stop it,” Voldemort demanded.
“Stop what?” Harry asked, meeting Voldemort’s eyes with faux innocence as he pushed another sensitive magical instrument off the shelf.
Voldemort made for his wand but was disarmed by Harry cocking his head to the side and swishing his tail around.
"Nyaa~?"
So cute , he thought despairingly. Harry smirked.
Damn self-aware cat-boy.
While away at school, Harry made a habit of sending Voldemort dead rats on a regular basis. He called them gifts.
It was sweet. Disgusting, but sweet.
(Voldemort was in so much trouble; how the mighty had fallen.)
If nothing else, it endeared the boy to Nagini, who thoroughly enjoyed the spoils.
Voldemort dragged a somewhat-reluctant Harry behind him towards the meeting room (“throne room,” Harry would call it whenever he was out of spell range). Pushing through the doors, the two crossed the floor until they were in front of the chair (“it’s a throne, Vee”) on a raised platform that dominated the room.
“Potter, there’s to be a meeting shortly. Be a dear and sit with me,” the dark lord ordered. As there was no other chair nearby and Voldemort patted his knee after he sat down, his intention was clear. Harry shot him an unimpressed look.
“Wow, bad guy with a lap-cat – you’re just out to hit all the “evil mastermind” clichés, aren’t you?” Harry snarked even as he curled up on the man’s lap, leaning his head and shoulder against Voldemort’s chest.
“You owe me so much tuna,” he grumbled as he pulled Voldemort’s hand up until it was on his head and stroking his hair.
It was almost worth it for the bewildered looks he received from the assembled Death Eaters.
Voldemort’s office soon became far brighter and cheerier than it had been previously, with the curtains thrown wide to permit sunbeams in which Harry would sprawl. When there was no warm sunshine to be had, Harry would pull blankets from seemingly nowhere and make a nest in front of the fireplace.
If he wasn’t careful, Voldemort would lose his place in Nagini’s affections to the cat-boy, as the two had taken to cuddling for warmth.
She was currently wrapped around Harry on the window seat in the early afternoon sun as Voldemort devised a plan to infiltrate and overthrow the Wizengamot.
He wasn’t jealous. Not at all.
Harry cracked an emerald eye open lazily. “Ditch the plans for world domination for now and come nap.”
“Potter, I know battle strategy and long-term planning are lost on you, but I must capitalize on my momentum. And for that, I need to finish this plan.”
“It’ll still be there tonight,” Harry said, attempting to wriggle enticingly, jostling the giant snake twined around him into hissing irritatedly. “C’mon, let’s get cozy.”
“Desist in pestering me.”
Harry brought out the big weapons. “ Nagini, make him come sleep with us. ”
“ Master, you smell tired, ” the snake hissed, flicking her tongue out to taste the air. “ Rest in the warmth now, hunt later. ”
From experience, he knew the two would never let him regain his concentration, so he gave in to the inevitable, muttering mutinously.
“Is this your idea of defeating me? Distracting me from my plots to rule the country?” Voldemort glared as he joined boy and snake.
The Cheshire grin he received in return was answer enough. “It’s working, isn’t it?”