There was a silence for weeks after Harry Potter returned to the Dursley's. His Godfather's death weighed heavily on him, and even the way he vented his anger in Dumbledore's office didn't help the ache that settled in his chest.

His bitter anger and sadness kept his Aunt or Uncle from coming near him, and Dudley hadn't bothered him since his last summer. Whenever he saw them, or they him, he looked calm. Stoic. It was the atmosphere around him that told them not to approach.

After a month, he let some of his rage go. Some of the hurt lifted, and the Dursley's, as if smelling his temper, went about their lives without his acknowledgement. At least, until a letter arrived.

Harry,

The Order will be arriving to move you to a safe location on the 31st. The blood wards will fail, and it will no longer be safe.

Dumbledore

Harry blinked, holding the letter, a note really, in his hand. His temper flared again. 'Does he think I am just a dog to be ordered around?' he thought vehemently.

He cringed. Even the word 'dog' was enough to turn him back to his grief.

He felt his thoughts drift, the note falling from his hands as he dwelt on his Godfather. The fun loving man had died laughing. It was probably the only way he could have wanted to go.

Hopeless thoughts filled him. What did it matter? He had a few friends, but his entire life had been miserable. What was the point?

He grit his teeth. His parents died for him. His godfather died in battle, protecting him to the end. His life was worth living, if only just for them. But... Voldemort would try to end that life. That life that his loved ones had died for.

With reckless abandon, Harry pushed his thoughts into his scar, connecting with the mad man that had tried to kill him since birth.

"Tom Riddle." he said calmly aloud. He knew he was heard.

"Harry Potter." came the cold voice of the Dark Lord. It hissed at him in some anger, probably an aversion to his name.

"Dumbledore told me the Prophecy, Tom." he said simply.

"Oh? And you surrender this information so easily? Foolish boy." Voldemort whispered in his mind like a snake, testing defenses.

Harry could envision the cold smirk. "I'm done. I think I have a valid way to get what we both want, without us having to die." Harry replied.

"Oh?" Voldemort asked, curiosity tinging his tone.

"Let me be forward. I am a Gryffindor, after all." Harry said. "I have only my friends in this world, Tom. I have never known family, as the ones I live with hate magic worse than you hate muggles. I had my godfather, and he is dead."

"What is your point?" Voldemort asked coolly. Empathy was not something that Dark Lord's were known for.

"Born to those who have thriced defy him, born as the seventh month dies

And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not

And either must die at the hands of the other, for neither can live while the other survives" Harry quoted.

"Why are you telling me this?" Voldemort asked after a few moments, most likely to memorize the Prophecy.

"It's vague, and I found a loophole." Harry replied.

Harry felt the Dark Lord's attention focus on him. "Oh?"

"Tom. You lived a half life, most likely in pain for over 10 years before you created a body, and I'm sure that it was easy to say that you were miserable. I lived too, and suffered just as much. Relatives that hate magic as much as Purebloods the opposite. We were surviving. I figure we can just try to live. Neither can live while the other survives. We'll both just live, and neither will survive."

Voldemort didn't answer, but Harry wasn't expecting one.

"If we don't kill each other, and we both live our lives happily, then the Prophecy means nothing. Neither of us will be able to die."

Voldemort sounded amused. "How Slytherin, Harry."

"The hat would have put me there if Draco Malfoy hadn't turned me away from it." he replied smoothly.

"Truly?" Voldemort asked. "What a delightful bit of information."

"I propose a deal. We both live happily and not kill each other." Harry said.

"And why shouldn't I just kill you?"

"And either must die at the hands of the other." Harry repeated. "So it won't work if someone else does it. It would ensure your immortality as long as we were still somewhat subject to it."

"Hmm." Voldemort considered the offer.

"I just have a few concessions." Harry said firmly.

"What might those be?" Voldemort asked, and Harry knew that was a sign that he was considering the idea.

"We both need to be happy. I won't be happy if my friends suffer. Let them live their lives in peace, or leave Britain if they want."

"And by friends, you mean?" Voldemort asked.

Harry elaborated. He named his friends, people he considered family, and some of his more distant acquaintances in the D.A.

"I suppose I could be inclined to protect them from my forces." Voldemort whispered mockingly. "But I have concessions too."

"What." Harry demanded.

Voldemort laughed. "I will have one of mine stay with you. They will ensure that you are not a danger to me, and that you are living instead of surviving." he stated.

"They will not kill me." Harry said coolly.

"Of course not Harry. I am giving your plan a chance. It has more sense than I would think."

"And I want their dark mark removed. It's bad enough I can do this whenever." Harry said, indicating their mind link.

"Fine." Voldemort said casually. The minion he would send would be perfect for this mission.

"Then we have a deal." Harry said firmly.

"Indeed we do." Voldemort replied with a cold laugh. Harry couldn't help but chuckle as well.

The next day, a knock at the front door alerted Harry to a visitor. The Dursley's stopped having people over in the summer a few years ago in response to Dobby's hovering charm, so it had to be Voldemort's envoy.

He grabbed his wand, slipped his invisibility cloak in his pocket, and released Hedwig from her cage before trudging downstairs. He was met with a scene he could never have imagined.

Bellatrix Lestrange, only a glimmer of insanity in her eyes left, pointing a wand at his uncle. The man was purple in the face, but Harry was too focused on Bellatrix to comment.

This was the woman who killed Sirius. Who hit him with a curse that pushed him into the Veil.

He couldn't bring anger to bear. It felt pointless.

"Hello Bellatrix." he said.

The woman turned and smiled brightly at him, as if she was as innocent as a newborn. "Hello Harry." she said cheerily.

It was concerning, in fact, to see her so normal looking. She looked fuller. She seemed to have suddenly recovered from Azkaban. No doubt Voldemort had given her a few potions to fix her up.

"Is it gone?" he asked sharply, and she revealed her arm to him. It was bare.

Without even another acknowledging glance at his relatives, he walked with the cruel witch out the door.

"The Dark Lord would like to see you." Bellatrix said.

"Fine." Harry said.

Bellatrix held her arm out, and they vanished when Harry took it.

Moments later they were in a manor, at the far end of a table. On the other end was a silver and green throne decorated in snakes. Voldemort rested casually on it.

"Harry Potter." the man said.

"Voldemort." he replied calmly.

The Dark Lord shifted to the snake tongue and addressed his snake familiar, who was next to him. "Nagini, it seems our friend is here." he hissed.

Harry turned to look at the snake. "Indeed I am." he hissed as well.

Voldemort blinked, surprise showing on his face openly. "Harry Potter, the Golden Boy, speaking the snake tongue?" he asked. "How marvelous."

Harry didn't reply. His face was smooth and relaxed.

"I've asked you here for a simple explanation. Bellatrix has been unmarked, and restored to her former beauty. She will accompany you. She has been tasked with answering your orders as if they were mine, up to a point. You will leave Britain, and she will take you wherever you may go. She will teach you magic of all sorts, and protect you with her life. You will have no issues with me or mine confronting your friends, or attacking them, though they will be retaliated against if they attack us." the Dark Lord explained.

"Why her?" he asked. He expected pain to sound in his voice, but it was hollow, as if he were watching himself say it so calmly.

"She is loyal, tireless, diligent, and will not betray me." Voldemort answered. His voiced hissed through the air as he switched languages. "You may exact revenge or what have you on her. She will not resist."

Harry frowned disapprovingly, but didn't answer. Tom Riddle had seemed a vengeful type, and Harry couldn't see himself so much the same.

"I have one more request, Harry Potter." Voldemort said.

"What?" Harry replied shortly.

Voldemort stood and approached him. They were close to the same height. "A handshake, with the one wizard that I respect as much as myself."

"Not Dumbledore?" Harry heard himself ask.

Voldemort scowled. "Dumbledore was always a fool. He is powerful, and I will admit hesitation to face him in battle, but he does not earn my respect." Then he hissed his parseltongue. "But for the boy who lived a life so similar to mine, and rose to be the man you are today. I cannot help but acknowledge that in several important ways, you are my equal."

Harry blinked, and offered his hand.