Hey Hey Hey What If When Voldemort Took Harry's Blood For The Resurrection Ritual, They Actually Became

hey hey hey what if when voldemort took harry's blood for the resurrection ritual, they actually became family because they now share blood????

like, as far as magic's concerned, they're kin now. blood-bound. and with that come a lot of complications (and pleasures?). perhaps voldemort is now an honorary potter-slash-peverell and can use the invisibility cloak.

and/or perhaps harry is now an honorary gaunt and is, like, voldemort's official heir--which comes with a whole bunch of advantages for harry, like voldemort not being able to hurt him without serious magical consequences, because that would be unnatural and tantamount to hurting his own child, and magic's like:

"nope. can't do that. or you can, but golly gosh it'll hurt a lot! and will also magically incapacitate you since your magic is bound to your heir's, so you'll feel every bit of the damage you do. not to mention that you were already bound by a horcrux bond, so now you're doubly bound, which basically means you're fucked. congratulations, lord voldemort! 😇"

what if harry accidentally finds out that he has access to voldemort's sekrit gringotts vault under the gaunt name?? or gets a letter from gringotts informing him of it? what if he visits gringotts before voldemort realises what's up and literally drains all of voldemort's finances to fund his war?

or what if, what if, the death eaters, who swore lifelong fealty to voldemort, now have to follow harry's orders too, since harry is voldemort's heir and the magical vow of fealty transfers to him, too? what if harry inherits control of the dark mark?

just picture harry summoning bellatrix lestrange with her dark mark and, like, making her buy muggle children ice creams or something. and she can't even say no??? imagine her simmering and then boiling in rage as she treats innocent muggle kids and gets hugged like some sort of beloved neighbourhood grandma while she fucking hates having all those filthy little hands on her.

lmfaoooooo harry would totally pop off and voldemort wouldn't be able to do a damn thing about it. lucius malfoy kneeling before harry and freeing all his house elves after buying each of them a cute little manor. severus snape (bc even though he's a spy, he's still bound by the mark) actually having to be fair in potions and having to be nice and genuinely helpful to neville. fenrir greyback (let's imagine he has the mark, too) having to quit his perverse kid-hunting and eat nothing but veggies for every meal.

meanwhile, despite all of these enraging, humiliating scenarios that make voldemort want to explode harry into itty-bitty pieces, voldemort also feels the absolutely fucking bizarre urge to protect harry bc harry is his family now and voldemort's never had family before. and that, of course, escalates to insane amounts of possessive protectiveness when he discovers that harry's his horcrux, too.

also, while trying to figure out how to undo this stupid fucking kin-bond, voldemort discovers that the only alternative is to convert it into a marriage bond, which would simulate the kin-bond closely enough to satisfy magic, but still wouldn't solve the problem of harry being able to command voldemort's servants as his spouse (and thus his co-lord).

just imagine voldemort slowly losing what remains of his mind as he realises there's no way out of having his life revolve around potter... and not in the vengeful way it's been until now, either!

voldemort has to resign himself to teaching harry how to be a proper heir and/or spouse and how to dance/eat/talk as per pureblood culture, but harry's just over here literally thumbing his nose at tradition, deliberately botching up which forks to eat with, stepping on voldemort's toes at every waltz, and relishing being able to make voldemort's death eaters grit their teeth in disgust while still having to bow and scrape to him.

and then dumbledore finds out about this nonsense and simply passes away and/or has an existential crisis and/or tries to figure out how to twist this to his advantage so that voldemort is finally contained and controlled, but little does he know that sweet li'l bby harry doesn't need any help with that.

oh, harry controls voldemort, all right. yeah, being voldemort's heir/kin means he has to listen to his "sire" to a degree, but that's only the surface stuff--lessons, rituals, socialising, etc.--but his spirit is entirely his own and, increasingly, so is voldemort's heart.

this would be such fucking comedy gold lolololol. gotta write it one day

LET ME HEAR YOUR VOICES HARRYMORT FANS

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freezingflames7

1 year ago

I think it's really nice that Voldemort is willing or even eager to have some down time with Harry...the active dark lord gets a break with his partner and that's really sweet 🥺😟

He's a greedy greedy fool and he will hoard all of Harry's time and attention. He'll take whatever of it Harry will give him and I love him for that. 🥺🥺🥺

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freezingflames7

2 years ago

YES YES YES YES

WIP Last Line Tag Game

Tagged by @leafiloaf . Leafi, thank you so much for the tag! 😭 Sending love 💖💖💕💕 Look, when my favourite Harrymort artist tags me for the wip game it doesn't matter that I did the tag game, I’m doing it again!

Rules: Share 7 (or more) lines of a WIP you've been working on.

I wrote a little one-shot of our boy Harry fainting in the forest in Deathly Hallows and waking up. Without his shirt? Where could his shirt have gone? 🤔

Let Harry tell you one thing. He's a bloody good escape artist. Just because his shirt got discarded and his torso is currently exposed to the cold air of the hall won’t stop him from running headfirst to the exit, wherever the exit is — something Harry’s starting to worry about right now. The burning, long fading mark in the middle of his chest the locket left behind throbbed dully, like its own heartbeat. All the hairs on his arms were up, rising in response to the biting cold, followed by goose bumps spreading along the skin. His empty fingers trembled. There was no wand. Someone took his wand. No weapon. Running bare-chested. Many strange things happened to Harry over these seven years, but this one definitely takes the cake.

At least he still had his trousers, glasses, socks and trainers. The girls and guys at Hogwarts would kill to see this, Harry was sure. The hair on the back of his neck prickled. A warning. Mid-step, a cloth wrapped around Harry's ankles and wrists, lifting his feet off the floor. Harry pushed his entire body forward, lunging in the opposite direction in an attempt to rip the fabric off of his limbs. The cloth was unbroken. More cloths snapped around him, like lunging snakes. Two more wrapped around his forearms, one wrapped around his chest, another around his waist, wrapping around his thigh, two more around his knees, and one around his neck. They all snapped tight, and Harry groaned as they squeezed, strangulating his bones with the powerful pressure. The only cloth that didn't squeeze him was the one around his neck, acting more like a rope than a handcuff. The cloths were like scarves. They extended outward, to the source. The ones around him slowly spun Harry around, almost gently, mindful not to break him. Harry followed the path of the cloths, and found they were connected to a robe. No. They were a part of the robe. Coming out of the robe like hidden serpents. His breath stopped in his lungs, caught in his throat in horror at the sight of the hooded, tall figure ten feet away from him. No. No, Harry was supposed to be dead… No… No, no, no, no… Harry felt the beat of his heart, and realized that he was very much not dead. He was alive. He was alive, and it was the most heart-wrenching realization to have in this moment. Harry was alive. And the cloth holding him captive came from Lord Voldemort, who prowled toward Harry slowly, like a slithering python approaching his captured prey. Harry glared at the hooded Dark Lord.

Voldemort looked at him silently, his ivory face cast in shadow, his red eyes glowing like rubies. He tilted his head like a curious snake. A slow smile curled his mouth

“Going somewhere, my dear Horcrux?”

Harry's breath hitched, his eyes stretching in horror.

No.

No no no no no —

Voldemort reached forward. A skeletal hand cupped Harry’s cheek gently, tenderly holding his face.

Harry wasn't even done panicking before the red eyes enveloped his sight, and darkness swallowed him.

Tags

harry potter lord voldemort screaming crying sobbing harrymort im in looooove possessive voldemort

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