"What? Tom, you nearly died and you want to do it again?"
"I didn't say that, Harry!"
"But you made it sound like it!"
"It's Hogsmeade, Harry. Nothing can happen me there."
"Dumbledore is practically Hogsmeade's neighbour and you say you'll be fine! Stop lying!"
Voldemort rubbed his temples and looked up at Harry. The teen's face was pale with fury, one hand cradling his now seven-month pregnant belly and the other on the man's desk so he would not have to stand up straight. Even though he should look just cute with that huge stomach, the teen looked downright terrifying.
"Harry…"
"Don't try to reassure me! You're not going anywhere and making a fool out of yourself!"
"Making a fool out of myself? What do you think I am, a first year Hufflepuff? I can come and go as I like!"
By now he had risen up from the chair and they were now shouting at each other. Neither seemed to care to note that this was the first time they raised their voices in a fight.
"And what about me?" Harry screamed. "Should I just sit here and happily wait for Severus and Lucius to drag you back here, bloodied and broken?"
"That happened once, Harry! Once and never again!" The wild gesticulating of the man's arms should made Harry back away, but the teen would have none of it:
"It can happen to anyone! You're still human, Tom!"
"I am perfectly capable of protecting myself, Harry, and that's final!"
Voldemort stalked past his lover, and towards the door.
"Don't you dare walk out on me!" Harry screamed but the Dark Lord had already slammed the door shut. The teen made ready to follow but suddenly a wave of pain washed over him. He stopped in shock, eyes widening.
Blood trickled down his legs, and the raven-haired male whimpered in pain. He grabbed the closest chair and slowly sank to the floor. He held his stomach protectively and felt the blood gather around him in a puddle.
"Help," he whispered. "Help me…"
Then there was only darkness.
-o-
Voldemort went to his raid and attacked everyone he saw in Hogsmeade with the rage and fury that had built up during his fight with his lover. The Death Eaters were afraid to come too close to him, and wisely bolted when the man came stalking, throwing curses left and right.
When Dumbledore arrived, Voldemort and the Death Eaters had already left. They left behind a burning village and its few survivors.
-o-
"My lord," Lucius said hesitantly.
"You should go to the Ministry," Voldemort said. "I don't want to be bothered."
"My lord!" Tessa shouted, coming running. "The Prince-!"
"Not in the mood," the Dark Lord growled, not wanting to think about Harry at that moment.
"MY LORD!" she screamed, making all of the Death Eaters stop. She of all people would never scream at the Dark Lord. Voldemort looked at her, his blood freezing. She continued, almost sobbing: "My lord… I'm so sorry."
"What?" he asked, his heart sinking.
"The Prince…" she said as she sank to her knees. The Death Eaters stared at her. Lucius' blood ran cold. Severus' eyes widened. Bellatrix put her hands over her mouth, eyes tearing. The Healer looked up at her lord and whispered: "We… we're losing him."
-o-
Voldemort threw the door open, and the sight that met him made him turn and put a hand over his eyes.
Harry's skin was almost chalk white, his lips slightly blue and his raven hair standing out against the crisp-white sheets. Blood had gathered on the ground around the bed the teen was lying in, and something akin to a Muggle IV was strapped at the back of his left hand. His belly was still round, and his chest rose slightly in small breaths.
Voldemort felt someone catch him as his knees gave away. The potions master whispered soothingly to him as he was led into the room.
"He's in a coma," Tessa whispered to the Dark Lord, her heart breaking as his face twisted and he looked away. "We're giving him nutrition since the baby seems fine but-"
"What happened?" the man interrupted, pushing away from Severus slightly.
"We found him in your office," the woman said. "He had already bled for several minutes."
"When was it?" the man asked, dreading the answer.
"Not long after you left for the raid."
Voldemort went to the bed, managing not to stumble and looked down at his lover.
"It will be another month before we can deliver the child safely," Tessa said. "When that time has passed, and the Prince has not woken up, then…"
"No," Voldemort said. "No; he's going to wake up."
"My lord…" Severus said.
"He will wake up," the Dark Lord whispered, his hand taking Harry's fragile one. "Can we move him?"
"Where to?" the Healer asked.
"Our bedroom."
Tessa knew better than to argue.
"The bleeding has stopped, so as long as we are careful we can move him."
-o-
One week went past. The atmosphere in Riddle Manor was anything but happy. The Death Eaters moved soundlessly around, even though they could shout at the top of their lungs and their lord would not even leave the Prince's side.
"My lord, you must rest," Tessa said. "You won't do him any good if you're dead on your feet, and the Prince would want you well-rested."
Voldemort let her words pass right through him and turned away his head slightly. She sighed and looked at the lovers' linked hands. The teen's fragile and white one clasped in the bigger and stronger one.
Voldemort's eyes were bloodshot due to lack of sleep and his magic was draining. He had willed himself to stay awake for the entire week, only catching an hour's sleep three times. Not once had he left the bedroom; he had spent the entire week watching Harry's dead-like face and praying to a God he had never believed in. He prayed to the Founders, he prayed to Merlin, he prayed to everyone he knew that Harry would wake up. He just wanted him awake and safe.
For days, his prayers went unanswered.
-o-
Harry had no idea how long he had been lying in the darkness. It was comfortable, and there was no pain. No aching in his chest after any fights with his lover, no worries about the war, about his baby, no worries about anything. Who was his lover now again? No matter. What war? Probably not important. Baby? Since when did he have a baby?
In the cool darkness, he could just lie and be. He never knew if he was smiling or crying. Everything was so empty, he was so empty. No bad memories, no good memories, no memories at all. Just lying in darkness, drifting further and further away from the small pit of light.
Truth was, he did not want to go there. He had tried once, and felt pain everywhere. He had felt despair, his own, pain and loneliness. He did not want that and returned to his darkness.
"Sweetie," a voice called out. "My brave child, don't give up."
Harry lifted his head and looked around. Who dared to bother him in his paradise?
"Harry, come on son," another voice said. "Come on, wake up."
No. He liked it here, thank you very much.
"Come on, kiddo," the third voice said. "Even I feel sorry for Voldemort, and that's bad. Just wake up to make him stop wearing that helpless look."
"Who are you?" he asked. "Who's Voldemort?"
"Harry, wake up!" the second voice said. "Come on, I know you can do it!"
"Who's Harry?" the teen mumbled and laid back. "Leave me alone."
"Wake up," the first voice pleaded. "Please, listen to him."
"Listen to whom?"
But then he heard it. A voice from the pit of light. He drew himself up, further away. No, he didn't want to hear anything! Leave me alone!
"Wake up then," the second voice said. "Come on, remember. Remember everything and wake up."
"Walk to the light," the third voice said. "It's not so bad, kiddo. You only touched the bad part. If you feel the good part, you never want to return to this place."
Good part? Was there a good part there? Harry rose up and walked slowly to the light. He felt the loneliness and made ready to step away.
"One more step," the first voice said. "One more step and you'll feel it. Come on, do it for us… do it for him."
Harry took the step.
-o-
Muffled cries, panicked voices and quiet sobbing met his ears. Harry kept his eyes close, feeling very tired.
"My lord, we have to do it!" Tessa's voice rang through his hazy mind. "The time is up; the Prince will not wake up."
"Shut up!" Voldemort screamed, his voice hysterical. "He will wake up!"
Something was very wrong. What was wrong? Harry tried to wake up his brain enough to process what had happened. With a pang he remembered it. The fight, the bleeding, the darkness… they must have been worried sick. And Voldemort; his poor lover. It sounded like he had been to hell and back and still was not finished.
"My lord!" Severus shouted, cutting of Harry's thoughts. "Please, you're destroying yourself while waiting! He wouldn't want that!"
Harry had enough. The Dark Lord was the Dark Lord, not some half-dead fool. Time to shake things up and return them to normal. Harry collected his strength and opened his mouth.
-o-
"T… To-om?"
The whisper made them whip their heads so fast Tessa was surprised none of them broke their necks.
Tired emerald eyes looked at the Dark Lord. They blinked out some of the haziness, and Harry raised his hand, reaching for Voldemort.
"Tom," he got out, his voice quiet and raspy.
Voldemort's legs gave away. Severus caught him and led him to the bed. He placed the fragile hand in Voldemort's own hand and said:
"Welcome back, my Prince."
Voldemort felt four weeks of despair and anguish leave him in one rush. He did the only thing left for him; he passed out.
Tbc…
Chapter eleven done, and it's short as I said. But I got it up earlier! Yay!
Chapter twelve: Harry's recovery. Lots of cuddling between Harry and Voldemort