The small candles resting on prickets began to illuminate the corridor as Lord Voldemort entered them. His long, leather cloak molded around his waist before falling against his back as he rounded the corner. He was walking with a younger man in front of him, grasping the boy’s shoulder with one hand, twisting his arm behind his back with the other.
The corridors to Tom‘s rooms stood wide and empty, causing the footfalls of the Dark Lord to echo through Harry’s ears as they made their way to the main chamber. His arm was pressed into his back painfully and he wondered madly what in the world he had done to upset the man he was quite fond of. “Tom.. wait. Stop for a minute, please.” he pleaded.
Ignoring him, the man pressed on, squeezing Harry’s shoulder more roughly every moment he attempted to slow their pace.
As they entered the chamber, Tom shoved Harry to the floor and stood over him, glaring down as he righted himself, looking up at his aggressor. His booming presence and glowing red eyes struck terror in Harry’s heart. “What were you thinking? You beg mercy for someone who never did a fucking thing for you except pray to the gods her husband beats you instead of her, in front of my Death Eaters no less!” he shouted, resisting the strong urge to kick the wounded puppy look off his face as he stared into his wide eyes. “You will never do that to me again, and I‘m going to make sure you understand that.”
Harry lay there, dumbstruck. He had to stop him then. Everything in his heart had told him so. Petunia was mean to him, yes, but the fact of the matter was she had saved his life. His mind had moved him to do it, he had no choice. Tom shook with anger he couldn’t set aside. “Stand up!” he shouted. “Stand up right now.”
Harry started to back up, pushing himself away with his legs, but Tom reached down, yanking him up to his feet. He dragged him over to the sleeping quarter, picking him up and tossing him on the bed like a rag doll. “Oh gods..” Harry cried, scrambling to get off the bed as Tom jumped onto it, grabbing his ankle and pulling him back to the middle.
He straddled his hips, in clasping his fingers around his throat with one hand, squeezing lightly, silencing him as he began to plead for him to stop. He swatted the hands away that clawed at his wrist, feeling himself get very turned on, despite his anger, watching him writhe beneath him.
He held his grip, hovering over him, as Harry’s top lip quivered over his gritted teeth, refusing to meet his stare. Tom smacked him lightly on his cheek, leaning in closer to his face. “Look at me!” he shouted.
Harry shifted his eyes so they locked with his, fear and defiance imprinted over them. Tom pulled his hand away from his throat quickly, sitting up and watching him closely.
Harry stiffening slightly, staring at the dark lord’s face. He knew he was angry, he knew he could kill him by merely speaking a few words, or beat him within an inch of his life. He had felt Tom’s erection pressing into his stomach, terrifying him even more, he had that look uncle Vernon had given him that night.
Harry laid there, his body rigid now, as every small movement he made caused Tom to twitch, as if waiting for him to fight back. He could almost hear the wheels turning in the man’s head, he knew something very bad was about to happen by the look on his face.
Tom sneered, his hands moving again, grasping the neck of the tee shirt the boy wore, ripping if open in his strong grip. Harry’s eyes grew large and he gasped, grabbing the hands tearing his clothes. “Don’t do this. Don’t make me hate you again, Voldemort!” he cried.
The hands that were so tensed under his grip suddenly froze for a moment as Tom looked at them. He looked back into Harry’s eyes, they were so beautiful, wide and screaming with fear. His mind drifted for a moment, before grasping the shirt tight again, pulling it open. “Don’t ever call me that.” He growled back.
Harry wanted to panic. The adrenaline he felt was driving him mad, telling him to fight. He closed his eyes, squeezing them tight, holding his wrists tighter, feeling the tendons moving under his fingers, pressing on them, wanting to hurt him back. A eerie sense of calm began to wash over him then, something inside of him told him he would be alright. Gather your wits, make it stop. Make it stop.
“Stop.” said Harry under his breath, stone faced, more angry than afraid any longer.
Tom felt the grip around his wrists burning his flesh, sensing his own magic being drawn into the hands holding on, frightening him. Harry grasped tighter, pulling the hands he held away from his chest, thrusting them to Tom’s sides before releasing his grip. His scar on his forehead was burning red, threatening to break open, but he couldn’t feel it, it seemed. His eyes flashed crimson in them, glazed over and staring into nothing.
The contact broke as Tom backed up, climbing off the bed, without taking his eyes off the boy. He stood over him silently, thoughts flowing around in his mind. Harry blinked a few times, breaking his daze before looking up at the man. His eyes had returned to their normal emerald-green, looking puzzled, awaiting any sudden movements from the man.
Tom cleared his throat. “Did you feel that?” he asked in a half-whisper. Harry shook his head, afraid to speak. “Do you know what you did?” Harry shook his head again.
Tom reached over, grasping his hand in his before he could jerk it away. “I want to test something. I won‘t hurt you.” he said.
Harry’s instincts held him in a relaxing calm. He could feel Tom’s hand shaking nervously over his wrist. Whatever had happened, it had scared him enough to stop, to come to his senses. Harry should have been afraid, but he wasn’t. For the moment, he felt in control of himself for the first time, even if he couldn’t explain to himself why.
Pulling his wand out, pointing it at a large recliner sitting in the corner, Tom concentrated his mind on Harry, feeling the energy flow into his fingertips, as it did outside the Dursley’s home. He opened his mouth, letting the spell drip off his tongue. “Wingardium leviosa.” The chair flew up, puncturing the ceiling with awesome force, sending plaster and wood splinters out into the room. Cascading dust and cotton tufts settled before he could see what had happened fully.
It had worked. The small test of magic felt so powerful in his grasp. He hadn’t drawn it up from inside himself, as he had suspected earlier, he had borrowed it. Combining it with his own, it created a force he had never thought possible.
Harry jerked his hand away quickly, rubbing his scar vigorously with it. “Look, Harry. Look what we did.” Tom said, pointing his wand up at the chair.
Harry stood up, walking over to the corner, looking up at the smashed chair imbedded into the plaster. “We?” he asked.
Tom put his arm around the boy, feeling his muscles tense. “Yes, we. I can only imagine we’ve done this before, drawn from each other’s power.” he paused, turning Harry to face him. “Tell me what you were thinking when you held your aunt’s hands downstairs. Were you thinking about me?”
Harry nodded, looking everywhere around the room, except at Tom. “I was thinking you would might kill her if I didn’t do something.” he said hoarsely.
Tom nodded, looking down at the boy. He parted the wild mass of hair covering his forehead and brushed his fingers lightly over the lightning bolt scar. “I knew I felt something then. It has to be the curse. I had thought the only side effect was the visions and the pain it caused you, kitten.” He slid his finger down, resting them on the torn shirt. “I’d like to test this out a bit more, this is a brilliant discovery. If we can learn to use it more freely, I would be unstoppable with you at my side.”
Tom’s stance towards the boy changed after a short time, looking down at him sternly, yet a softness appeared around his eyes. He cocked his head, examining the boy closely. The show of power Harry had wielded had frightened him quite a bit, but he strongly suspected he had no idea he had done it, and for now.. he would keep it that way. “You won’t defy me again, will you?”
Harry shook his head, still having trouble looking up at the man. “It’s very important not to upset me like that, you must understand. I want to start your training tomorrow, and I simply will not tolerate any insolence.” He bent down, meeting his eyes. “Are you still upset? I want to make it better.” He said, speaking in a low, libidinous tone.
He led Harry beck to the bed, pressing him down into he mattress. He straddled his hips again, more gently this time. He could feel the boy’s body tremble under his thighs as he leaned over to kiss him. “Are you still afraid?” he asked, cringing at the tone of his own words as they left his mouth. Harry looked as if he felt trapped, his hands braced the mattress as if he wanted to pull himself away.
He sat up on his knees, pulling the boy up into a semi-sitting position against the headboard, as he climbed off of him. He sat at his side now, moving slowly, leaning in, inhaling his scent, tasting the dried tears under his eyes. “Is this better?” he asked softly between tiny kisses.
Harry nodded mechanically. “Yes.”
Tom moved in closer, tipping Harry’s head back into the headboard. “I don’t want you to be afraid of me when I sleep with you. I may have been a bit harsh tonight, so I’ll forgive you for acting like this right now. Starting tomorrow, you’ll learn how to keep your weak emotions in check, freeing you from this misery you like to hold yourself in.” He sat back, climbing off the bed, walking to the door. “Go to sleep, I’ll send Draco to gather you in the morning.”
Draco stared at his fingernails, pushing his cuticles back with his wand. “This is bloody boring. I’m not having fun anymore. You don’t even move or anything.” he said offhandedly, sitting like a king on his throne, or in this case.. Dudley Dursley’s back. “Why don’t you tell me a story. Tell me about all the times you beat on my lover.”
Dudley cringed beneath him. “Wh--what?” he asked, completely confused.
Draco looked scandalized. “Haven’t you heard? Your cousin and I are lovers. Isn’t that shocking?” he asked, hopping up and down on Dudley’s back, as if he were a waterbed. “Now tell me a story about Harry, or I’ll curse you again, fatboy.”
“Which time?” he asked bluntly. Veritaserum is such a lovely potion.
Draco rapped his fingers over Dudley’s head, thinking. “Oh, I don't know... a real nasty one. I want details too. Tell me all about the worst thing you ever did to Harry.”
“That would be the time Piers and I snuck up behind Harry in the yard, while he was weeding the garden.” he replied, trying to cover his mouth with his oversized hands.
Draco prodded the large boy’s neck a few times with his wand. “Keep going, I said details, pig, details.”
“It was two summers ago. Piers was over and said we should go Harry Hunting that day because
he looked like a girl and was way too poncey. He kept staring at him while he was making our lunch, I never noticed before, but when I looked at him I could see it too. I was so embarrassed that my friends knew we were related then. Piers said we would do it later when we were alone.
We waited for mum and dad to go out shopping for my birthday presents, since my 15th birthday was less than a week away. Mum sent Harry out back to the garden before they left. He’d been out there for probably an hour before we grabbed him. It’s hard to catch him when he sees you coming, so Piers snuck up behind him and put his arm around his neck when he was kneeling in the dirt. I went over and helped him, and we dragged him over to the house and took him to the basement.”
Draco’s eyebrow began to twitch. “You wanted to hurt him because he wasn’t a big, fat cunt like yourself? What’s wrong with how he looks? He’s gorgeous. What am I missing here?” he asked, bewildered by the boy’s gall.
Dudley kicked his legs up and down, but they hardly left the ground from their sheer girth. He really, really didn’t want to finish this story. “Because he looked gay. My dad said he did too sometimes.”
Draco pressed himself harder down on Dudley’s back, listening to his hiss out oxygen from his lungs. “What’s wrong with that? Don’t tell me you muggles don’t like people because they might be gay.”
“We don’t. Not all of us, at least. It’s immoral and disgusting. Besides, Harry was a freak even when he was little. He was always small, like some silly girl. He shouldn’t look like that, it’s not normal.” he replied, sincere and bluntly, causing Draco to see red.
“Finish the story, pig. What happened in the basement?” he said, grasping the dirty blond hair under his fingers, yanking back on it several times.
“I hit him a few times with my fist, in his stomach mostly. I wanted him to get hurt. He shouted at me to stop, but I didn’t care. Piers was holding his arms so he couldn’t fight back, but I felt he had enough when he was coughing and stuff, so I told him to let him go. He said he hadn’t learned his lesson yet, and I guess he was right. Harry was still mad at us and said if we didn’t let him go, he was going to tell my mum.
Before that day, I never hit him too much. Piers wasn’t allowed to come over anymore, which made me mad, but mum said I act like dad too much when he’s around, and since they had to take Harry to hospital that night, I didn’t want to get in trouble over it.
“Go on, it’s just getting interesting.” Draco said with baited breath.
“Okay, anyways, Piers pushed Harry down, and told me to hold him, so I did. He called Harry a whole bunch of names, and smacked him a whole lot when he rolled his eyes at him. Then he said he wondered if he kissed like a girl and started kissing him, but Harry must have bit him or something, because he yelled really loud and his lip was all bloody. He said he should die for that, and he helped me drag him over to the water basin and he filled it up with water. We held his head down in it for about a minute, I think, till he was too hard to hold anymore.
Then my hands slipped and he pushed me and ran to the stairs, but Piers knocked him over and cracked his head into the floor a few times, till he stopped moving. I told Piers to go home, because Harry wouldn’t wake up, and he was scared, shaking him and stuff. Then he finally woke up when mum and dad came home, and he got sick, throwing up all over the place and he saying he couldn’t see very good. Mum thought we gave him brain damage and made dad take him to hospital, but he got better.” Finished Dudley, hoping the silver-haired boy would get off of him now.
Draco stood up and turned, pressing the sole of his shoe deep into Dudley’s back. He looked over to his father, who was sitting quietly in the back of the room, watching the show. “Can I do it, father? I want to do it now.” he said with venom. Lucius sat back, crossing his legs and resting his chin on the back of his hand. He smiled and nodded at his son, with a twinkle in his eye that rivaled Dumbledore’s. Draco turned his attention back to Dudley and pointed his wand down at the boy’s head, removing his foot and stepping back a few paces. “Avada Kedavra!” he shouted, watching the emerald light pierce the room, feeling the power of his first kill.