“Voldy-Poo!” A soft voice stirred Voldemort from his slumber. Much earlier than he was used to, he noticed as his eyes weren’t assaulted by bright morning sun. He blinked as the image of Harry came into focus.

“Wakey wakey, eggs and bakie!” Harry said with a smile. Voldemort jumped.

“What are you doing in here?”

“You’re almost late for your yoga class. You didn’t forget did you?”

“It appears I have,” Voldemort sat up and threw the covers back on his bed.

“I arranged for a yoga instructor to come to the house today. I think it would help you with your stress,” Harry explained as he drew open the curtains on the window. Off in the distance, the slowly spreading red glow of the sunrise was just visible.

“Bloody hell, how early is it?” Voldemort’s eyes landed on his robes from last night. The neon green and orange paint had dried and was starting to flake off. Memories of his promise to Bellatrix came back to him. They had hatched a plan the night before to capture Harry in his sleep, drag him off to the woods and pay him the same respects he has been paying them. Voldemort sighed heavily as he saw Harry picking up discarded clothes and fold them up. Try as he might, the Dark Lord could not understand why this boy was acting the way he was. Did he really care about the state of his own room? Who cares if it’s a little messy? Like Harry has to see it. All he would have to do is stay out of his room and he would never know how messy Voldemort let it get sometimes.  Sure most well to do wizards are used to this, as they employ house elves to do this work.  However Voldemort preferred to let his room remain untouched by elf hands.  But still Harry would come in. Voldemort had noticed it for a little while now. The robe he had left on the foot of his bed was later found hanging in the closet as it should be. The boots and socks he had left muddy and wet by his door were clean and dry. And Harry Potter was doing it. He was doing it all. Yet he got nothing in return. What was he doing wrong? Why did Harry seem to want to be around him? Voldemort was pulled from his thoughts by a hand on his shoulder.

“It’ll be alright Dad,” Harry patted his father’s head. Pulling his wand out, Harry transfigured a boot into a yellow sunflower and handed it to his dad. Voldemort scowled as he grabbed the flower and tossed it on his bed.

“Just remember to wear something you can move around easily in.” Harry mentioned as he left the room. Voldemort hobbled into his bathroom only to find his anger level rising again. Staring back at him in his mirror was his image. Only this image had a pair of round glasses drawn crudely on his face. He exhaled slowly out of the slits in his face, an attempt to lower his already high blood pressure.

“Sir?” Snape stopped Voldemort on his way downstairs. He looked down at Voldemort’s choice of clothing for a second before bringing his attention back up. “My sir, you look particularily, menacing, today.  Although I’m confused.  If you hate Potter so much, then why are you going along with all the things he plans for you?”  To tell the truth, Voldemort was confused by this as well.

“It helps to keep him off my back as much as possible.” Voldemort mumbled and walked away.  Downstairs, he found Harry and a slightly older man spreading out three colorful mats on the floor.  The furniture had been pushed to the edges of the room.  The man Voldemort deduced to be the yoga instructor approached him with an extended hand.

“You must be Tom!  I’m Kayden!” he said brightly as he waited for his hand to be shook. 

“Lord Voldemort.” He corrected the blonde, tanned man.

“Okaay,” Kayden nodded. 

“Oh, don’t worry about him, he’s really just a big softie!” Harry smiled and wrapped his arm around his father.  Much to Voldemort’s complete embarrassment, Harry rested his head on his shoulder and cuddled him.  Harry pulled out his wand and with a flick, the room was filled with a soft, slow tempo.  At times Voldemort could have sworn he heard waves.

“Let’s get started then, shall we gentlemen?” Voldemort decided then that he didn’t like Kayden.  He didn’t like the way his skin seemed unnaturally tan, or his hair unnaturally blonde.  He didn’t like the way he looked at him.  And he certainly didn’t like the way Kayden would hold his eye before turning to walk away, his hips swaying ever so slightly.  And his teeth!  Nobody’s teeth are that white.  Yes, Voldemort most certainly did not care for Kayden.  These thoughts were swimming through his mind as Kayden guided them from their relaxation phase to their first few poses.

“Remember to exhale through your mouth as you pull your knees to your chest.  Now extend your feet and hook your forefingers on your big toes.  This is called the Beetle position.  Feel your pelvis open up as you let your knees drop closer to the floor on either side of your body.” Voldemort struggled to breathe as his legs pressed against his chest.  He didn’t like this pose.  He didn’t mind some of the others.  The Upward Facing Dog was actually enjoyable.  But this bug one, Voldemort just did not like it.  He felt very vulnerable, his legs spread and in the air.  He sighed a huge sigh of relief when the instructor finally guided them into the next position.

“Alright, now let’s roll onto our stomachs and slowly move into the Upward Facing Dog position.  This time, let’s tuck our toes onto the floor.”  Voldemort was confused by the instruction, so he glanced at Kayden’s example.  The position of his toes now clear, he quickly followed suit in time for Kayden’s next instruction.  “Now when you’re ready, lift your hips towards the ceiling, engage your core and roll onto the balls of your feet.” Kayden demonstrated the procedure and waited for his students to move into position.

“Oh, wow, feel that stretch Dad?” Harry said, slightly out of breath.  Voldemort merely scowled.  This position wasn’t much better than the last.

“This position is called the Down Dog.  It’s actually one of my favorites.” Kayden mentioned as he rose and walked over to the father and son to aid them in their stretches.  “How are you feeling Harry?”

“I’m good!” Harry was really enjoying himself, much to his own surprise.

“If you want to increase the stretch, try pushing your heels toward the ground.  You should really feel that in your calves and hamstrings.” Kayden suggested as he walked over to Voldemort.  “And you Voldemort?  How are you doing?”


“Try not to slouch your back too much.  That could cause more harm than good, really.” Kayden walked around behind him.  “Your body should be in the shape of an inverted V.  Try to bring your hips higher,” Kayden suggested.  Voldemort’s breath hitched in his throat as he felt Kayden place his hands delicately on his hips and pull them up and back.  “That’s better,” Kayden said softly.  Multiple warnings went off in Voldemort’s head.  He suddenly had flashbacks to ‘safety classes’ he was forced to go to in the orphanage.  “If you feel uncomfortable, say ‘stop’ and run away!”  Besides those, any man knows that this is not the position you want to be in.  Especially if you know the man behind you is gay and fancies you.

“Ok, I think we’re finished here!” Voldemort was up off his mat in record time, his hamstrings screaming at the sudden movement.  Kayden didn’t have time to protest, as Voldemort was out of the room with a bang of the door as it slammed shut.

“Ehh, he’ll be fine.  Now how do I get out of this position, Kayden?” Harry asked from his own Down Dog.


Later that day, Voldemort could be seen walking Crup along a path just outside of his home.  Lately Crup had been a little more lethargic than Voldemort would prefer, so he felt a walk was in order.  It wasn’t long before he realized a walk probably wasn’t the best activity.  He had to struggle to keep up with his pet, and his stiff legs weren’t helping.  Who had the idea that all that awkward stretching was good for a person?  He gritted his teeth as the beast on a leash pulled him towards a crop of bushes growing near a cloudy puddle.  He realized with a jolt of pain that his legs could move faster than he thought possible in their overworked state.  Crup seemed to be enjoying his time outside, yet Voldemort still pulled him toward the house.  Hobbling into the house, he led Crup into his swamp.  Along the way, he passed by a room with the door slightly ajar.  Silently, he leaned forward so he could hear the voices inside.

“Goyle!  Thanks for joining us today!  Still couldn’t convince Malfoy to make it huh?”

“Nah, don’t worry though.  I think I’m warming him up.”

“Cool,” Voldemort could easily recognize the voice of Harry in the room.  He seemed to be having some sort of meeting, though Voldemort could not tell how many people were there.  There had to have been several, judging by the sounds of people shifting in their seats and munching on snacks.  Was that popcorn he smelled?

“Alright, let’s get started shall we?  First off, I would like to thank everyone for coming here.  Hopefully we can get a lot accomplished.  I think we all know why we’re here.  If you’re here, then you want to see Voldemort’s dreams fulfilled, correct?”  Several murmurs of agreement were heard along with a cough.  “Great, then we’re all on the same page.  Let’s start with a brainstorming activity.  Does anyone have any ideas for assisting the Dark Lord?”  Through his disgust for Harry’s methods, Voldemort couldn’t help but feel .  . . something, for what Harry was doing.  He had never seen this much initiative in his other followers.  Sure, there was something to be said for those that would kill, torture, and go to prison for him.  But this was something new.  He had never seen this before.  His ego came crashing down when he realized nobody had suggested anything yet.  Voldemort had his foot ready to kick down the door and his wand ready to Crucio when he heard someone clear their throat.

“Well, um, I have a suggestion.  Um, I’m not sure if it will help any but, “

“No please, tell us what’s on your mind!” Harry waved off the boy’s insecurity with his encouraging comment.

“Well, I noticed the other day outside, there is a crack in one of the stones in the pathway that leads from the house.  You know, that one that’s kind of pinkish?  Well, I was just thinking we could repair that.”

“Good thinking!  Yeah, we really should repair that soon.  Crabbe?  Would you mind heading up that project?  Let’s make that priority number one for right now.  If someone trips on that then we could have a lawsuit on our hands.” Harry agreed, his quill scratching noisily on a piece of parchment.  Voldemort didn’t even notice Crup’s leash slip from his white fingers as his mouth slowly dropped.  Harry was running a bloody company quarterly meeting in his house! 

“He’s an imbecile!” Voldemort murmured as he wandered away from the embarrassment that called himself his son.

Voldemort never really recovered that day from the meeting.  He spent most of the day wandering through his house.  Thankfully it was quite large.  He wandered over to the library, only to find Snape and Lucius sitting together reading.  He wandered over to the parlor to see the boy who had suggested fixing the stone in the walkway doing just that.  He wandered over to the kitchen, the horrific memories of sliced up Nagini on the table still in his mind.  He then wandered to his bedroom only to discover that offered no solace either.  Harry was in his room, picking up robes and boots from the places Voldemort had dropped them.  With a grimace on his face, he quickly backed out of the room when Harry smiled at him.  He had given up on finding solace, so he was not entirely irritated when a certain bushy-haired mudblood showed up in his face.

“Hello Mr. Voldemort!”


“Are you feeling alright?” Hermione cocked her head to one side as if she was studying a Picasso.  “You don’t seem your self lately.”  Voldemort turned and walked away.  He couldn’t deal with this today.  Or tomorrow.  Possibly ever.

“I understand.”  Her two words made him stop in his tracks.  She understood?  How could she ever understand what he was feeling?  They were two exact opposites.  Except in the intelligence area. 

“I can understand how you must be feeling.  I mean, you’ve got an incredibly annoying teenager living with you.  Up until now you’ve enjoyed the life of a bachelor, but now you’ve got a new flatmate.  And to top it all off, he claims to be your son!”  Voldemort turned suddenly and approached her, his eyes blazing into hers.

“You believe me?  You don’t think he’s my son either?”

“Oh no, he’s your son, no doubt about it.  I mean, Lily wrote that letter.”  Voldemort’s chest deflated as quickly as it had inflated.

“I’m just saying that I understand how difficult this transition must be for you.  If you ever need to talk, I’m here.  But if you’re not comfortable with that, I know this great therapist in London. . .” Voldemort huffed and resumed his stalking down the hall, away from her.

“Trust me, you’d like him!  He’s dealt with people far more evil than you!”  Hermione yelled down the hall after him.

A/N:  So sorry for the long wait between chapters!  I'm getting the hang of this!  For this chapter I used ways 10, 21, 24, 36, 43, 62, 64, 82, and 94 of the 103 ways to annoy Lord Voldemort.  I'm still shooting to include them all!!!!  Sorry Volders, we're far from over!  Do I get extra points for a gay man seducing him?

Next chapter, coming soon. . .

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