Son of a Lord

Captured

Draco cringed and Harry smiled. As much as Draco wanted to join Voldemort's ranks, he was still a coward when it came to death. 

"That's a great birthday present," Draco said sarcastically, sticking his pointy nose in the air, "When it was my birthday, father-"

Draco froze mid sentence, staring in horror at something behind Harry. Harry turned to see Voldemort looking at Draco in distain. Harry sighed, trust his father to scare the living daylights out of Draco. Draco was such a coward he probably wouldn't visit for another month. 

"Go on Mr Malfoy," Voldemort said smoothly, "I'm sure we'd all be delighted at hearing what you have to say." 

Draco glanced between Harry and the Dark Lord, and Harry resisted the urge to laugh. 

"My Lord, I- I don't, I'm-"

Voldemort held up a hand, and Draco stopped. 

"Run along Malfoy, I'm sure you'll find somewhere to hide until I am done with my son." 

Draco nodded jerkily and practically ran in the opposite direction, stumbling a few times as he went. Harry turned towards his father and glared at the man. "Why do you hate him so much?" 

"He is a distraction," Voldemort hissed angrily, "You do not need friends." 

Harry sighed and walked towards the door of his father's office, opening it and going straight for the plush armchair that was reserved only for Harry. Voldemort kept a notice me not charm on it when he met with death eaters, he wouldn't want them to feel comfortable after all. Voldemort walked in after Harry and sat behind his desk, leaning back slightly on his chair. Harry couldn't help but hiss in pain as he sunk down into the couch, his chest burning and itching. 

Voldemort caught the movement and narrowed his eyes, "Are you injured?"

Harry hesitated for a moment before replying, "Just a cutting curse. Bella healed it last night but it's still a bit...sore." 

Voldemort pursed his lips, "You promised me you would be careful." 

"I was," Harry snapped, "I just got distracted." 

Voldemort raised a knowing eyebrow, "By what? Or should I say whom?" 

Harry gritted his teeth, "James Potter." 

If it hadn't have been for Potter, Harry would be fine. His chest wouldn't be burning and his night would've been much easier. It was always Potter. 

"You mustn't let him get in your head," Voldemort said, "He does not know who you truly are. He will not hesitate to kill you." 

Harry laughed without humour as he thought back to James' words last night. "You're a child."

"He takes pity on me," Harry said, "I don't think he can bring himself to kill someone as young as I am." He smirked, "Until I threatened his son of course." 

Voldemort sighed and sunk a tired head into his hands, "Can you not comprehend the words 'be careful'?" 

Harry laughed, "I was only having fun." 

"Fun that led to an injury." Voldemort sighed, "Did you kill Allen?"

Harry nodded, "Yes, he's dealt with."

"Did he put up a fight?" 

Harry sneered, "He fell off his chair and didn't get up. Coward."

Voldemort smirked, "I am proud of you, my son." 

Harry smiled slightly, "Thank you Father."

As he said this, a glowing ball of light flew into the room, Harry jumped up and had his wand out in a second, his Father following suite. The ball of light morphed into a vulture, the Patronus of Bellatrix Lestrange. Harry's breath caught in his throat as Bella's voice came out of the bird.