Pairings: HP/DM HP/TR
Draco Malfoy walked to his potions class in a daze. The rumor mill was circulating, and they were saying that Harry Potter had run away. His muggle relatives were contacted and confirmed that he did, in fact, leave home on his own two nights before. He had stolen all of his uncle's money from his wallet and ran out the door, taking no luggage with him.
Draco felt a bit ill, listening to the talk. As he walked into the potions classroom, he stopped briefly to sneer at all the Gryffindorks as they huddled together and wept for their savior.
"Buggar off, you dirty ferret!" Ron shouted.
"20 points from Gryffindor for using that language in my classroom, Mr. Weasley." Snape said without emotion. Ron sighed and leaned back into Hermione.
Snape cleared his throat and garnered the attention from the classroom. "I know what you are all whining about, but it's clearly a fact that Mr. Potter run away from his home, and was not kidnapped. I can assure you when his fun-time and money runs out, he'll turn up. Now if you please, gather your ingredients I had you write down over summer break, so we can begin this potion."
Draco smiled up at his professor and Snape nodded in return.
The next few weeks seemed to fly by for Harry. He moved into Tom's rooms and was allowed free reign over the mansion. He spent most of his time in the library, reading about light and dark magic, from books thought not to exist.
He grew to almost enjoy Tom's presence, although a small guilty feeling would creep inside his heart whenever he would try and let himself go.
Tom had mentioned calming potions weren't working anymore, and they would have to try something stronger soon. Perhaps a lust potion. Harry simply could not get past the kissing part and Tom was growing quickly impatient.
Harry tried to not think about Hogwarts, or Ron and Hermione. He tried to block out Albus Dumbledore's twinkling eyes, staring into his soul. He tried to turn his thoughts on Peter Pettigrew, who was now sitting in the Ministry of Magic's custody. Sirius would finally get his trial, and he would be a free man soon. Harry knew deep inside Sirius would rather still be in hiding, than know he was forever trapped in Riddle House with the man who murdered his best friends and framed him. His heart sank, and he leaned back into the soft leather chair he rested in.
Lucius Malfoy watched the young boy across the library intently. This was a new game for him. He simply adored watching the boy wander around, staring at everything with wide eyes, and nervously fumbling around whenever a death eater came close to him.
He enjoyed watching him brood over his choices the best, though. The boy's face would change with emotion at any given moment, from sheer bliss, to downright anger with each though that crossed his mind. What Lucius would give to read his thoughts in these moments. How badly he wanted to run up to Harry and shake him so hard until he collapsed and maybe watch him as he struggled to regain his composure, as he easily could when he noticed anyone was watching him. He silently chuckled to himself. That would be very interesting, indeed.
He'd occasionally let the boy notice he was watching him, and smirk when Harry would look up at him. He didn't hate the boy, not anymore. He didn't pity him either. He was just fascinated with him.
He enjoyed making swift movements when he was close to Harry, watching him flinch in the corner of his eye. He had learned that shouting the word "Boy!" would make Harry tremble in fear and cower in small spaces. He'd have to use that one sparingly, as not to wear it out too quickly.
He loved coming home for dinner and telling Narcissa all the juicy details of the mental torture he had put the boy through that day. She very much wanted to meet him herself, and try a few of them out on him. Yes, fun for the whole family! Narcissa would probably fall in love with the sweet cherub face and coo all over him. Women are like that.
Lucius growled quietly, sizing up his prey as Harry's eyelashes began to flutter closed, indicating sleep oncoming in the large chair. Yes, maybe it was time to walk by and drop a few heavy books by the boy, to see his reaction.
Lucius opened the book in front of him and began to read the passages, intending on allowing Harry to fall into a deep sleep before he had his 'fun'. He outlined many ways to torture a muggle that he had never thought of himself. Impressed, he looked down at the new list he had created, and smiled. The Dursleys were in for one hell of a surprise.
A slight whimpering sound caused him to look up quickly. 'Suffering in the library? Where? What am I missing? Why wasn't I invited??' he thought, scanning the large room quickly. His eyes rested on the small boy, curled up on the leather chair. Harry whimpered again, a bit more loudly this time, and shifted uneasily. 'Oh this is too much. The boy is having a nightmare right here in front of me.' Lucius grinned broadly.
He rested his elbows on the desk in front of him and cupped his handsome face in his hands, staring straight at the boy. If only he had brought popcorn. This show couldn't get much better.
Harry ground his teeth and twisted in his large robes as he struggled with an unknown tormentor. His arms began to flail about, reaching up to the ceiling, then suddenly pulled over his face, as if to shield himself. His
chest heaved up and down, in short, quick breaths. His legs curled up into his chest and his small shoes dangled over the edge of the chair.
Lucius was in heaven. He thought about putting this memory into a Pensieve, at least to show his family during the holidays.
Harry screamed finally, loudly and thoroughly. "No!"
Lucius looked up and silently thanked the gods for this wonderful performance. He looked back to Harry. He was now fighting his own robes, grasping them and tugging them away from his skin.
Harry sat up suddenly, his eyes shot open, his mouth twisted in a sneer, and he simply tipped over, off the huge chair. Lucius clapped his hands together softly, as not to disturb the boy.
Harry fell flat on his face with a dull *thud*, his arms and legs sprawled out, spread eagle. He lay there for almost a full minute before looking around the room. When his tear-streaked face finally emerged from the library floor, he spotted Lucius almost instantly.
Lucius smirked at the boy, and closed his book. Harry scowled back, showing teeth. He simply rolled his eyes and gathered his belongings up and left the room, completely satiated for the day.
Harry closed his eyes and buried his legs into his chest, clutching his knees with his arms, tightly. He lay on his side for a few minutes, until he gathered the courage to pull himself together.
He shook off the nightmare and began to think of the last few weeks he had stayed in Riddle House. Staying in Tom's chambers had proved to be.. interesting, to say the least. Tom actually had a decent sense of humor around the boy, and usually never spoke of 'business' while they spent time together. Tom spent many hours in front of his mirror, rediscovering his old body, touching it, tasting it, remembering long lost feelings he had buried so long ago. Harry could spend all day watching the man learn to love himself all over again. It was becoming an art form for Tom.
Tom pretended to enjoy Harry's stories about his friends and godfather. He would indulge the boy into talking about them, just to see him smile a bit. On rare occasions, Harry would forget what he was talking about and mention the Dursleys, suddenly snapping his jaw together and grow silent. He would rock himself in his chair, hugging his knees and drift off into a waking dream world, filled with horrid memories.
Tom frowned. Those awful muggles ruined a part of Harry he really wanted to see. They drove the sexuality and happiness from the boy in a way he could never have thought of, and it pissed him off. Maybe he should let the boy watch fat uncle Vernon get his.
Tom worked feverishly, day and night, on finding a potion that would allow Harry to respond to him without using lust or love potions. He wanted this from the boy, desperately. If he wanted to rape someone, he could
do that to anyone. This wasn't power he was looking for in the boy, not anymore. He had him, he could force the boy to do anything he wanted, but he wanted Harry to freely come to him, and to make him feel love, something he never felt before. After a tough day cursing muggles, and dodging aurors, he wanted to dive into the small piece of heaven that he hid in his bedroom.
He sat at his desk, sifting through ancient parchment. His fingers lightly dug into his scalp, scratching an unknown itch, as his knee tapped the underside of his desk. A light knocking at his office door snapped him from his deep thinking. "Enter." he said, without looking over.
He heard the door quietly click open, then closed and heard soft footsteps saunter towards him and looked up to Nagini, who was laying in her soft bedding in the corner, to see what her expression was. Her eyes softened as she watched the form walk towards her master and Tom grinned. He felt a small hand lightly touch his shoulder and he turned his head to look into the lovely green eyes.
Harry was weeping openly, furiously wiping off tears and attempting to lighten his breathing.
Tom held his arms out to the boy, and Harry entered the embrace willingly. Tom pulled his seat back a bit from the desk and pulled the boy into his lap.
Harry crushed his face in Tom's velvet covered chest and heaved in deep breaths.
Tom ran his fingers through the unruly black hair and rested his chin on top of Harry's shoulder. "What happened, kitten?" he purred softly in the boy’s ear.
Harry sniffled and leaned back, wiping his nose on his sleeve. "Nightmare." is all he replied.
Tom sighed. "When will you tell me about these nightmares, Harry? I can stop them."
Harry let a loud sob escape. He shoved his face back into Tom's chest, and the Dark Lord grimaced, imagining the tears and snot collecting on his fresh robes.
"I survive them... and I should never forget." he heard against his chest.
Tom bit his tongue. Yes, he'd have to ask Lucius if he would kindly bring uncle Vernon here. Maybe Harry shouldn't see his demise, but he now desperately wanted to.