The Little One with Green Eyes

40: And So It Begins...

-November 31, 1991-
When Voldemort woke up the next morning, he felt strangely well-rested. He could hear Little One's soft snores next to him, and he turned his head to smile at his slumbering child. Little One looked peaceful in his sleep, his inky black hair sprawled out on the pillow in tangles, a small bit of drool lining his cheek as his mouth opened and closed with each breath. Voldemort's eyes crinkled fondly at the sight, and he lightly carded his fingers through his son's hair. He paused, however, when his fingers hit something fluffy. With a sigh, Voldemort removed Larry from his perch and set the duckling on the ground. Larry quacked at him, obviously unhappy with the change of scenery, but Voldemort merely sneered at him.

Unfortunately, the noise awoke his precious, and Little One rubbed his eyes with his fist, smearing the drool all over his cheeks, and opened his eyes. Still lethargic from sleep, Little One held out his arms in an adorable fashion and Voldemort obliged, lifting the sleepy toddler into his lap.

"Good morning, dear heart," Voldemort whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his son's temple. "How did you sleep?"

Little One didn't speak, choosing instead to rub his face into Voldemort's collarbones and let out a tiny whine. Voldemort chuckled and gently rubbed his hand over Little One's back, soothing the sleepy child back to sleep. Voldemort set Little One back on the bed for a moment to get changed into his clothes before he lifted Little One back into his arms, rousing the child from his short-lived nap.

"Come now, dear," Voldemort said, walking towards the kitchens. "It's time to wake up. Narcissa will be here to watch you, as I have a number of meetings today."

Little One perked up at the mention of Narcissa, his emerald eyes widening with childish glee as he began to absentmindedly chew on his fingers. Voldemort sighed and removed his son's unwashed hand from his mouth, cringing at the number of germs his child no doubt ingested.

It wasn't until Voldemort had placed Little One in his chair and placed a steaming bowl of oatmeal in front of him, did Little One speak. "Larry?" he asked in a hushed whisper, his hand reaching forward to grab a spoon.

"Hmm? Did you say something dear?" Voldemort asked, feigning ignorance. Perhaps, if he was careful, he could play off the missing duck and make it seem like the thing had wandered off in the night time, never to be seen again. "I'm afraid I didn't see him when we woke up this morning."

Little One's eyes dimmed ever so slightly as he looked back at his breakfast despondently. "Oh."

While the sadness his child emitted was concerning, Voldemort knew, in the long run, it would be better. After all, Little One had a nasty habit of adopting animals that never stayed long, and he always got over it after a while. Sooner or later Voldemort would finally be rid of the duckling that had wormed its way into his precious' heart.

"I'm sorry darling," Voldemort responded, lightly patting Little One's head. "I'm sure wherever he went, he's happy now. You know wild ducks aren't meant to be domesticated---"

Quack quack.

Voldemort's face twitched while his child let out an excited gasp at the noise. While Voldemort had been celebrating his victory, Larry had somehow managed to waddle his way from Voldemort's bedroom to the kitchen. An impressive feat for a handicapped duckling, he could admit, but frustrating nonetheless. He had been so close...

"Larry home, Papa!" Little One exclaimed happily, squirming in his chair as he attempted to get close enough to the floor to lift Larry up. Voldemort let out a resigned sigh.

"Wonderful." he said dryly. He bent down and tried to hide the grimace on his face as he lifted the mangy thing and placed him on the chair next to him. "Larry will have to wait patiently until breakfast is over, I'm afraid. No ducks on the table."