My muse is taking me so many places that I'm seriously starting to wonder if I have five other voices in my head. Neh, this is a spir of the moment kind of the thing. I seriously wanted to make another fic where goes off traveling the world as a surf bum or something. Well, we'll see.

I don't own any Harry Potter characters.

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Lord Voldemort narrowed his eyes as he surveyed his enemy's house. He longed to make it explode, have it catch on fire, anything to get rid of the ugliness that radiated the sameness as every single house on the street. How could muggles stand living in such indifferent houses?

Voldemort reminded himself that this was not the time to belittle muggles. He flattened his hair a little, smirking at his new, polyjuiced face. He could make out Harry's 'guard' sound asleep. Dung, he supposed.

He walked up to the house, feeling the wards close around and inspect him. He inwardly sneered as he felt them retract, recognizing the blood. And why shouldn't they? It was the boys blood, after all. He knocked on the door softly but firmly, pleased to hear footsteps come immediately. He was impatient and very ready to leave.

"May I help you?" a woman, Petunia Dursley Voldemort assumed, asked as she opened the door.

Voldemort gave her a kind smile, very proud of his acting skills. "Hello, ma'am. I am currently doing a survey of houses of Private Drive. My manager would very much like the story of the ideally perfect house."

Petunia Dursley flushed with pride. "And you chose my house?" She managed to calm her voice a little as it reached a pitched squeal. "But of course, it's really the garden that must have caught your eye, right? I really do tend to it with the utmost care," she bragged.

Voldemort held in the urge to just Crucio the woman right there but just shot her a dazzling smile that made him very popular in his school day's. "Of course, ma'am. Might I ask to come in and start this little interview?"

Petunia stepped out of his way and beckoned him into the living room. "I'll just go get my husband and a pot of tea." She motioned for him to sit, which he had already done so, and swept into the kitchen.

Voldemort allowed his gaze to sweep across several pictures of a very grotesque boy. He frowned wonderingly, trying to feel Harry's magical signature but was unable to because of the wards. This time Voldemort smirked outwardly. Figures the wards were only good for hiding his signature, if nothing else.

Petunia walked back in, carrying a tray of tea with her husband trailing after her. "Petunia here said you wanted an interview?" Vernon asked immediately.

"Yes, I would li—" Voldemort started but was cut off by Vernon.

"Will there a small check for do this little chat, perhaps?"

Voldemort's fingers twitched; angered that he had been interrupted. No one interrupted Lord Voldemort. "A small payback can be allowable," Voldemort said quietly.

Petunia put a small glass in front of him. "Anything else I can get for you?" Voldemort shook his head. "Perhaps some crumpets. Oh dear! I forgot them back in the kitchen. I'll go get them."

"No need, pet," Vernon rebutted kindly. "We'll just have the boy get it as we get this thing started. BOY!" Vernon bellowed.

Voldemort's eyes gleamed an almost deadly red under his new gray ones. He was ready, hand almost on top of his wand as he waited for Harry to come down the stairs. After a minute or so, Vernon grunted angrily.

"Little beggar probably out walking the alley's again," he muttered angrily.

Voldemort almost closed his eyes in exasperation but Dark Lords do not show any type of emotion such as exasperation. It was either a sinister smile or a cruel smirk.

"Are you sure I can't get you anything?" Petunia asked yet again, hoping her generosity would make a good impression and even a bigger pay.

At that moment, however, the door burst open and Harry entered the room, pausing as he noticed the new face. He glanced briefly at Voldemort and started to make his way up the stairs but suddenly flinched as he looked back quickly, his eyes wide with recognition.

Voldemort grinned coldly. "Hello, Harry."

Harry's wand was out so fast that all the Dursley's saw was a small blur. Vernon didn't even have a chance to yell as Voldemort was on his feet instantly and shot a few minor stunners.

Harry rolled out of the way and fired back his own stunners. They continued firing several spells at each other for a few minutes, Voldemort really only toying with Harry and enjoying the looks of horror on the Dursley's face as he destroyed their belongings. It wasn't until Voldemort sent a particularly strong cutting curse, destroying an expensive looking chair, did Petunia's loud shrieks cause Harry to look away briefly. That was all Voldemort needed as he blasted Harry into the wall.

Harry groaned as he attempted to stand up but a strong hand gripped his neck, pulling him up. Harry hung limply about a foot in the air, desperately trying to breath. Voldemort smirked, pocketing Harry's wand.

He turned to the frightened Dursley's. "No, Petunia, I believe I have all that I need." Harry gagged, managing a weak glare. Voldemort made sure he held on tight enough to make Harry loose a little air but not enough to choke him to death.

"Bring me his stuff," he said dangerously, never taking his eyes off Harry as he kicked out and clawed at his hands. "Now!" he barked when no one moved.

Vernon scrambled to get the trunk while Petunia grabbed Hedwig. They dropped the items on the floor and Harry managed to turn his steely glare at his Aunt for not being careful with Hedwig. With a flick of his wand, Voldemort had the trunk and Hedwig levitated in the air, Hedwig still in her cage, pounding angrily against the bars.

"Ready to go, Harry?" Voldemort teased, his eyes becoming red once more.

Harry struggled some more and shot a pleading look at his relatives. "You… you're taking the boy for good?" Vernon sputtered.

"Oh yes," Voldemort replied slyly, "and I believe you shall get your little payback you wanted so much." Vernon looked surprise and held out his hands greedily.

"S… stop," Harry rasped. "…et 'o."

Voldemort ignored him and pointed his wand at Vernon. "Crucio." Vernon screamed and convulsed on the floor.

"I believe that settles that." Voldemort smiled at Harry who had tears coming down his face. "And I also believe I am done here."

With that, he apparated away, taking the trunk, Hedwig and Harry.

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Harry tried to get a few more words out but nearly broke down crying as his relatives did nothing to help him. He looked at the room they had operated into. It was rather bare, not really having any possessions other than a large armchair. But what Voldemort, with Harry still in his choke hold, was standing in front of, was a cage. A new type of fear gripped Harry.

Voldemort tossed Harry in the cage, locking it magically as he tried to jump back out and tackle Voldemort. "Let me out, you bastard!" Harry shouted, pounding against the bars. He was forced to bend low, seeing as how the height of the cage only reached four feet.

Voldemort peered down at Harry through the bars, hardly believing his plan had worked so well. Voldemort began to chuckle, making Harry pause in his futile attempts to break down the bars.

"What's so funny?" Harry snapped, glaring. He gripped the bars with his hands, his knuckles turning white with the force he exerted.

"You are, Harry," Voldemort replied softly, taking in Harry's full form. "You amuse me. Dumbledore amuses me. This whole situation amuses me. The fact that it was so simple to get you out of that house with absolutely no problems amuses me."

Harry growled angrily. "Don't forget I escaped from you just a few weeks ago. I'll do it again!"

"Oh no, Harry. You merely escaped by luck, with no wards to stop you from portkeying away. This time you will have no such luxury." Voldemort stepped closer to the cage. "You are now my prisoner."

At that moment, the polyjuice affect wore off and Voldemort changed back. What shocked Harry was that Voldemort no longer looked like a disfigured snake man. He now had a very smooth yet round face. His skin was a light colored tan that was much better than the sheet white color. Black hair adjourned his head that had a messy but neat look to it. His eyes were the same blood red that Harry remembered.

Harry suddenly smirked. "What, couldn't stand to look at yourself anymore that you had to change your look?"

Voldemort stepped even closer and grabbed Harry's chin through the bars, causing him to cry out in pain. Harry shook violently as Voldemort said, "Do not forget where your place is, Harry. I can have you tortured by my Death Eaters in just a matter of seconds. I can have your clothes ripped away and scar you with the welts of whips and knives. Would you like that, Harry?"

Harry gasped, wrenching himself away but only able to move two steps back.

Voldemort folded his arms. "Well?"

Harry flinched but said nothing.

"Harry," Voldemort said softly, his voice very dangerous. Harry said nothing but just glared, not willing to play Voldemort's little game. Voldemort sighed, looking disappointed and waved his wand.

The cage began to shrink at a fast pace and Harry was forced into a very tight ball, unable to move. He couldn't even move his head an inch. "Stop," Harry snarled, wincing as the bars dug a bit into his arms. "What's the point of doing this to me?" Harry demanded angrily. "Why don't you just kill me instead?"

"Are you so eager to die you do not even want to know my plans?" Voldemort asked slyly, knowing how curious the boy was.

Harry still had a full view of Voldemort and narrowed his eyes. "No."

"No what?"

Harry gritted his teeth, frustrated Voldemort was playing with him. "No, no I don't want to die."

"Then you have no need to worry, for I do not wish to kill you." Voldemort gave a sick grin, looking beyond pleased. "You are more useful to me alive."

Harry's eyes widened in fear as he thought about all the different types of torture Voldemort would perform on him. Voldemort, as if reading his thoughts, chuckled. "No, Harry, I will not hurt you unless you misbehave." He kneeled and patted Harry on the head, ignoring the indignant look.

"Although, I am curious how you knew it was me so quickly."

Harry stared at Voldemort defiantly. "My scar," he said simply.

"Ah, yes." Voldemort looked at Harry closely. "Something to study during your little stay."

Harry stayed silent as Voldemort got up, heading toward the exit with his trunk and Hedwig floating beside him.

"I'll see you tomorrow. Hopefully a night in your cage will remind you who is in charge now and will hopefully quell your sharp tongue."

Harry shook, trying to move. Voldemort left the room, turning off all the lights, leaving Harry in the dark. Harry lay there silently, tears finally streaming down his face as he prayed Dumbledore would find out what happened.

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Yo. People please review! Tell me if you want to continue this. If yes, then don't worry about length. I usually write much more than this. Just a little starter, you know. It was written to quench my muse that was going haywire.

Seriously, as I said before, I have so many stories I want to write. One where Harry is a surf bum and another where he grew up in Australia with a small Rescuers Down Under cross over. Yea, I know, I have weird ideas. : )