Chapter 1

Harry's stomach rolled, his head fuzzy and his eyes unfocused as he looked down the isle that was situated before him. He felt sick. He didn't want to do this. He did not want to be here, did not want to walk to the man that stood at the end of the walkway. However it appeared that he had no choice. He never had a choice. His life was a never-ending stream of others controlling him, or attempting to.

Hercules Licorus Black or Harry, was the youngest of three. Sirius was two and a half years older than him and Regulus was just eleven months his senior. This was not, however due to bad planning on his parent's part. Harry may have been unplanned, but his mother's pregnancy had begun in mid-December. With all going well Harry should have been born mid-September, putting him at a year and a few weeks younger than Regulus. However things had not gone to plan.

Harry had been born premature; very premature. He had been born five weeks early and had weighed only four pounds. He had been tiny; too small to eat, breath or stay warm without the help of spells. Harry had been in the hospital for five weeks before being released into the comfort of his own home. However it had taken him even longer to regain his strength and health than those five weeks.

Harry's childhood had been difficult. Having been born so prematurely he had been a fragile child, unable to participate in many of the normal activities for a child his age. He had difficulty breathing and eating large amounts of food at a time. He was always told what to wear, what to eat and where to go. He was too weak for many things. His mother simply dismissing his attempts to act as a normal boy should.

This lead to his exclusion from many of the activities that his brothers had participated in. He was mocked and bullied by his two older brothers for being smaller and more fragile in all respects. His size was significantly smaller than both Regulus and Sirius, by the age of eleven being only four feet two inches, in comparison to Regulus' five feet one. He was the smallest in the year by a large amount.

The rest of the family was no help. His father was distant, his working keeping him busy almost every waking hour. His mother was vicious; the woman's only concern being for the Black family legacy. Although most of her attention was focused on Sirius, he being the heir to the Black name. However that did not mean that she would not tell him to do. Harry's cousins were no better. Beatrix mocked him, Narcissa looked down on him and Andromeda simply ignored him.

The only member of the family that Harry had a remote connection to was his father's mother, his grandmother, Melania Black. The woman listened to his troubles, she paid him attention and she treated him like a person. However the woman rarely visited; her trips to the Black household being only at Christmases and Birthdays.

This lead to him finding solace in the one place that would not reject him; the library. Harry spent a lot of his childhood camping out in the Black library, hidden in corners, curled up with a book. The library was place that Sirius avoided and although Regulus frequented it, he did not know all the hiding spots that Harry did. Due to the fact that Harry was small, fitting into those tight spaces, was easier for him then for any of the other members of the family. His mother didn't seem to care if he was in there either, knowledge was power after all. The learning was one of the very few things that she approved of.

His family had ignored him further as he had become a Ravenclaw at the age of eleven, after ignoring Sirius as he had become a Gryffindor. Regulus had become the only child that now seemed to matter in the Black family. He was now the heir. He was the only one that anyone needed, the only one that had any expectations to live up to. His mother had forced Harry's silence at family gatherings and his disappearance from many of their minds. However that had all changed when he had come home from his sixth year.

Harry had reentered his house for the first time in months, a few steps behind Regulus. At sixteen he was still small, his height only just reaching five feet. His hair was jet back and ruffled about his head. The mess, one of the only things that ever drew the attention of his family. Negatively of course. His green eyes sparkled, although they were hidden behind a pair of expensive tortoise shell glasses. They were the most expensive thing that he owned; a present from his grandmother for his thirteenth birthday.

However, rather than retreating to the library, as he would have usually done, he was halted in his tracks. His name was called and he was led, by both mother and father to the kitchen.

"Hercules" his father had said solemnly. Harry flinched, repressing the look of disgust that wanted to creep onto his face. He disliked the name. Harry was a much preferred title. However he looked to the imposing figure that stood before him with a raised brow and a small nod.

"A situation has arisen that your mother and I believe we should inform you of" the man's voice never changed in pitch, each word intentional and direct. "I believe you should sit down for this." Orion Black indicated to the dining room table, before placing himself in his designated seat. Harry soon followed. He sat across from his father, his eyes looking away from the hard face. The man then spoke the words that changed Harry's life forever.

"We have arrange a marriage for you Hercules. With a Mr Tom Marvolo Riddle"

That was How Harry found himself standing before a crowd of people, ready to walk down to the man that stood at the other end, his father by his side. The man, non-other than the Dark Lord Voldemort. Harry thought that he was going to be sick. Harry's father clutched his arm tightly. Harry was unsure whether it was a support or a constraint. However Harry was sure that he would run away if he was given half a chance.

Harry was dressed to impress. His hair was, for once, neatly styled. It had been cut earlier that day, so that it gently framed his face. It was a silky black curtain that fell to just above his shoulders, layered gently, creating a soft and delicate appearance to his figure. Intricate robes fitted tightly to his small form, white the predominant colour. They hung to mid thigh, white leggings being worn underneath them. The black crest was emblazoned on the back of the robes, the motto of the Black family, 'Toujours Pur' in bold black letters underneath. Harry's glasses were gone, revealing the fearful green eyes for the world to see. The tortoise shell frames were securely held in Harry's pockets, ensuring that Harry would be able to see when the service finished.

Harry was reluctantly pulled down the isle by his father, refusing to look at the man. He had not taken this arranged marriage well. Harry's eyes darted away from the people that lined the seats; Sirius, Regulus, his mother, his cousins, his teachers, his friends. The service was a public one. One that was meant to represent love but in truth represented only servitude. Voldemort wanted to declare to the world that he had one of the most powerful families in the world under his thumb and there was nothing anyone could do about it. Not even the great Albus Dumbledore could save Harry from the fate that he was walking toward.

As Harry reached the end of his walk his eyes flickered up without his consent, taking in the man that was to be his husband. Harry was shocked at what he saw. Unlike him the man's robes were all black, apart from the glittering green Slytherin crest that was situated on the back of the material. The man may be fifty-one but he certainly did not look it. He seemed to look more like he was in his early thirties. He had black hair, equally as dark as Harry's that thick and full on his head. His eyes were a chocolate brown and seemed to sparkle with slight disdain at Harry's small figure. Harry flinched at the look, his eyes skittering from the handsome man.

The words were rushed and Harry barely listened to them, his thoughts far too jumbled for him to pay attention. However as he heard his name he was snapped back to attention.

"Do you Hercules Licorus Black take Tom Marvolo Riddle to be your bonded husband?" there was a pause. Harry blinked, not fully taking in the words that were being said. He could feel all eyes on him, the brown of the man before him, burning into his frozen form.

"Y-y-yes. I do" he finally managed to choke out. Tears threatening to spill down his face as he felt himself throw away his life. He would never be free again. He had lost any control. He was never going to have any say in what he did. He was a prisoner in all but name.

"Do you Tom Marvolo Riddle take Hercules Licorus Black to be your bonded husband?" The response was almost instantaneous.

"I do" the words came with no emption, flat and unfeeling.

Harry could only watch as the Dark Lord took the dagger from the priest. He quickly sliced the blade across his forearm, blood blooming to the surface. He then handed the dagger to Harry. Harry ran the dagger along his own arm, the cut jagged as his hands shook.

The Dark Lord extended his arm his eyes on Harry, demandingly. Harry extended his arm, shakes running through the slim arm. A firm hand griped his forearm, just below his elbow. Harry felt the bloods mingle, the rot red liquid from both veins mixing with one another.

"Love to love, life to life, Blood to blood" the priest chanted. Light lit up between the two, their blood shimmering with white as the bond was created. "I now pronounce you bonded. Husband and husband. You may kiss" the priest finished.

Harry froze as he heard the words spoken. He was terrified. The Dark Lord leaned forward. He lifted the now healed arm to Harry's cheek, his pale hand sending tingles through Harry's skin. The other hand dragged Harry forward, his face coming closer to that of the Dark Lord. Harry shuddered as the older man brought his head forward. Their lips met.

The kiss was short; little more than a brush. Yet it promised more. Harry felt fear engulf him. Utter terror filling each crevice of his mind. As the Dark Lord pulled back tears found their way into his eyes, slowly trickling down his face. This was not how he had imagined his wedding day. Harry had wanted to marry for love. He had always longed for acceptance, to be a part of whoever it was that he was with. He wanted love. Something that he had never had before. It seemed his dreams were for nothing. He was nothing more than a pawn.

The service ended; Harry was forced from person to person, each bidding him luck and congratulations. An indefinite amount of time passed and Harry found himself seated at the head table, the Dark Lord by his side. Dried tear tracks still marred his otherwise perfect face as the evening continued.

Harry kept his eyes downcast as people approached the table at which he sat. Celebrations were in full swing, people having far too much wine, even before the food arrived. The Dark Lord stood as time ticked by, speaking to the gathered people.

"Please be seated" the tone was commanding even if the wording was a request. "Food shall shortly be served." the man seated himself back, next to the unresponsive Harry. Several minutes later, when everyone was seated, food appeared before both men at the table. Harry ignored it.

"Hercules" the tone was stern and intimidating. Harry looked up to see the dark brown eyes on him. Harry's breath left him and all he could do was give a small nod of recognition to his new husband and bond mate. The thought itself was a terrifying one.

"I believe it best if you eat" the tone was not soft or kind, but merely matter of fact. "You'll be needing the energy." With that the eyes retreated and the Dark Lord went back to eating his own meal.

Harry spent the rest of the meal picking at the food. He had no appetite but he still felt the need to eat. The Dark Lord had told him to. He had little choice but to do as told. He did not wish to suffer torture before his first married day had ended.

The rest of the night passed rapidly, Harry avoiding everyone, keeping his mouth shut and his eyes downcast. He had been though enough today. He did not feel he needed to engage in communication with anyone. However that only meant that the moment that he dreaded approached more rapidly. The Dark Lord stood.

"Thank you everyone for attending this joyous occasion" the smile was fake ,the voice was fake. Harry found himself wondering if there was anything real about this man. "However I feel that it is time for my husband and I to retire." The Dark Lord's tone left no room argument.

The only comments from the crowd were murmurs of agreement, wishes of luck and bidding of farewell. The Dark Lord ignored them as he turned to Harry.

"Hercules" he extended his hand. "Let's go"