The Little One with Green Eyes

35: The Shadowy Figure

As the werewolf sauntered off towards Voldemort's meeting hall, Voldemort cradled his son's trembling body close and walked towards his bedroom. Voldemort carded his fingers through Little One's tangled hair in a soothing gesture, trying to calm him down.

"What were you doing out there, dearest?" Voldemort asked softly. "Did you hear something?"

"Shadow, Papa." Little One said, his voice almost silent. Voldemort frowned, his eyebrows cinching together in confusion. Voldemort wanted to question the toddler further, but it was late, and Voldemort just wanted to go back to sleep, so he decided to save it for tomorrow morning.

"Okay darling," Voldemort said gently. He pushed open the door to Little One's bedroom and carefully set the toddler down on the bed. Little One curled up under the warm blankets, and Voldemort narrowed his eyes at the sight of Larry sleeping peacefully in the sheets. "Go back to sleep dearest, Papa needs to deal with something, okay?"

Little One nodded, but Voldemort could see the wariness in his son's emerald eyes. "Safe Papa?" Little One asked, looking at Voldemort with concern.

"Yes darling, I'll be safe," Voldemort said with a smile. "Now, go back to sleep. I'll send Nagini in to stay with you in a little while."

Satisfied that Voldemort was in no immediate danger, Little One sank into the comfort of his bed. "Night night, Papa." Little One said drowsily.

Voldemort smiled fondly, brushing a stray curl out of his precious' face. "Night night, sweetheart."

With Little One sleeping safely in his bed, Voldemort stood and made his way to the meeting hall where the irritating werewolf king waited. Voldemort entered the meeting hall with his head high, making sure that he maintained a cool, indifferent mask, despite his annoyance at the late hour.

"Why are you here, Greyback?" Voldemort demanded, making his way to the throne. Greyback only smiles at him, the skin around his mouth pulling his scars taught.

"When did you get a pup, My Lord?" Greyback asks, tilting his head.

"You didn't come here to talk about my son," Voldemort says, dismissing the question. "Why did you really come? I don't have time for this."

"We'll get to that in a minute," Greyback said, ignoring Voldemort's demand and in turn, angering the Dark Lord further. "I wanna talk about the pup! Who did you bump uglies with, eh?"

Voldemort sniffed at the crass language. "Watch yourself, mutt."

"He's kind of cute, you know," Greyback continued, a satisfied smirk resting on his lips, taunting him. "A little weird, but in an adorable way."

"If you know what's good for you, you'll stay far away from him, Greyback." Voldemort said, his tone giving away just how angered he truly was.

Greyback's smirk grew. "Good thing I don't know what's good for me, then."

Voldemort's patience snapped at the taunt, and Voldemort snarled as he reached for his wand, desperate to put the mutt in his place when a familiar coolness swept the room. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end, and Voldemort could feel his goose flesh prickle.

"Temper, temper." Voldemort can feel the whisper on his ear, and Voldemort refuses to dignify the shiver he feels with a response. The being's presence is suffocating and so close.

Voldemort whirls around, expecting to see the hazy figure from his dream standing behind him, only to see nothing. The empty space seems to taunt him, and Voldemort hisses in anger before he turns around to deal with Greyback. Said werewolf who is currently staring at him quizzically, a strange mixture of confusion and amusement resting on his face.