Title: The Darkness Sings to Me
Rating: M
Pairings: Tom Riddle / Harry Potter, Barty Crouch Jr. / Harry Potter
Genres: Romance/Drama and a little bit of horror in the mix.
Summary: Sometimes experiencing cruel things can bring about the purest and most loveliest form of love.
Written for Salivour in the Monthly One Shot Competition: July.
Prompts used:
Barty Crouch/Harry Potter, Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, Romance and Drama, planned end, and changing sides.
Warnings: Betrayal (This has Voldemort in it. It's bound to happen.), slash, and point of view switch. Third for the story, first for the flashback.
AN: HAPPY BIRTHDAY HARRY!
In his dark cell at Azkaban, green eyes glared hatefully at the wall. He loathed being here, but at the same time he couldn't help but be a little grateful. After all, it was through Azkaban that he met his beloved, Barty Crouch Jr.
At first glance, his boyfriend seemed to be a little off his rocker, but when one got to know him they could see into the beautifully complex mind that he housed.
Barty was smart and intelligent and used a mask of pure insanity to make others underestimate just how truly capable he was.
It was that small fact that had first brought Harry to notice and grow interested in the person who dwelled in the cell right in front of his own.
He wasn't anything special in terms of looks when one looked at his straw blond hair, and rather plain brown eyes, but once you looked deeply into those eyes and saw the pure intelligence one would grow undoubtedly intrigued.
As it turns out, Barty was a Death Eater for Lord Voldemort, and had been imprisoned at eighteen by his father, Barty Crouch Senior.
The man bore a deep seeded loathing for his father, and Harry would be lying if he said the thought of Barty killing someone didn't arouse him.
Anyway, Harry had never told Barty about his past with the young Tom Riddle before he became Lord Voldemort, in fear of his lover growing cold and angry.
Harry hated to admit it, but the man was soft towards him and showed him plenty of affection, and he had grown rather dependent on the soft nature of his boyfriend.
Barty told him that he didn't have to tell him how he got imprisoned until he was ready, but Harry felt so guilty about Barty trusting him enough to share it with him, but him not being able to reciprocate it that he finally broke.
"Barty…" He whispered. In Azkaban there wasn't much talking. Screaming, yes as that was a given with all of the dementors, but their was always little to no talking. Simply people remembering where everything went wrong in their life, and basking in the overwhelming urge to kill and maim something.
Nevertheless, his boyfriend seemed to hear him as he turned around and suddenly Harry was pinned to the spot by the intensity that was in the Barty's entrancing brown eyes.
"Yes, Harry?" The voice was soft, yet the roughness of it was not lost upon Harry. It made him shiver at the sheer masculinity that Barty exhibited.
"I think I'm ready to tell you why I'm in here…Just promise me you won't get mad." Harry whispered. Barty's eyebrows shot up in surprise, but after a moment of just staring at each other, the older man shifted and sat more comfortable in his small and dingy cell.
"Well then…I'm all ears." With that, the brown gaze was back, and Harry gulped before launching into the tale that still brought pain to his now cold and frozen heart.
I loved you. I was willing to give everything up for you, but what did you do in the end? You went out with my two best friends. My heart yearns for you in ways that I know it shouldn't, and although you know about my seemingly endless infatuation with you, you pay it no mind.
Instead you put on a smile, and we joke around like we usually do. As best friends that's a given, and I know that you want to keep up appearances, and ignore what's plain for all to see.
I love you, Tom, but you don't love me. With every passing moment my heart breaks a little more, and the darkness that clouds my mind begins to envelope me further and further.
Where did I go wrong? What do I have to do in order for you to feel for me the deep love that I feel for you?
Am I simply not worth your love? Was being friends with me only for appearances sake, and an easy way to past the time?
In all the years I've known you, you've never once told me you like me as a friend. Instead you're an egoistical bastard, and just comment on how I should be grateful to be in your presence, and for you giving me, a half-blood, the time of day. What the hell is that supposed to mean, Tom?!
Last time I checked you were a half-blood just like me.
Stop with the false pretenses, and open your mind up to see what's so clear, so fucking easy for even the most oblivious people to see!
I stood in the shadows as you asked out both Ron and Hermione, and said nothing about it. After all, your happiness was all I wanted. However, the second you began fucking them both in front of me is when the line was crossed.
You are mine, Tom! No one should be able to touch you! We spent so fucking long together as best friends, and I got to know the real you.
I was the one who got to see into the mask that was 'Tom Riddle' the most amazing half-blood to ever exist, and see 'Tom Riddle' the scarred orphan that only seeked to prove himself to the world. I know you just like you know me.
I've seen the rage, despair, and utter loathing you bare for others, and take it all in stride.
I loved each negative part of your personality and embraced it because I knew it was you. Whenever you confided with me your desire to kill a certain mud blood or half-blood, I would encourage it and even participate at times. After all, who was I to deny what my most precious person wanted?
However unknown to me, you were playing me expertly like a violin. Each kill that I made in your name was crippling, yet I didn't let it stop me. You were my everything, and I'd gladly destroy every last person in the world in order to keep you happy.
I remember when you first told Hermione and Ron that it was over. I was ecstatic. My first thought was maybe he decided that he didn't want them any more. Maybe he decided that I was the only one fit to stand by his side.
You seemed to anticipate that response because after you confirmed to them that yes, they were yesterday's news now, you bared the most sinful smile.
It reeked of pure sin, yet at the time I was so caught up in the false hope that you could finally be mine that I ignored it.
It was a very stupid move on my part, but can you blame me? I had just learned that the guy I lived to breathe for, had finally broken up with those that had kept him from me.
It was a magnificent feeling, and I am ashamed to say that I couldn't contain my own vicious joy at their misfortune.
'Tom doesn't want them', I thought. Maybe now he'd see that he only needed me by his side.
If only I realized that that bastard didn't intend to have any kind of future with me, and would kill me whenever he got the fucking chance.
…Unexpectedly, that chance was coming faster than I wished to believe.
It was when I was out to kill an important wizard who owned a muggle establishment that he executed his, as much as I loathe to admit it, brilliant plan.
I was on the third floor and was in the middle of uttering the 'Avada Kedavra' curse after hours of torturing the pudgy fool known as Parkinson, that the fire alarms went off.
Confused and a little more than angered at the audacity someone had to have in order to launch a fire and interfere with my assassination, I stormed outside only to see a very familiar fire that those in the Muggle world would absolutely not understand given the fact that no matter what they did, it would never stop roaring.
What was it you ask? Well it's simple really… It was fiendfyre.
The fire quickly ate at the building, and when I hurriedly cast the killing curse at my intended victim, I left via the roof.
It was there that the smug bastard known as Tom Riddle made his appearance.
With the intelligence only a typical villain could have, he went into a grand monologue that left me utterly bored yet at the same time completely disgusted and angry.
Turns out, Mr. Holier than thou, had called the aurors and reported my 'assassination' and played the part of weeping witness to perfection.
Kicking and screaming obscenities at the man I loved, I was dragged away to Azkaban. The last thing I saw before I was graced with the dementors presence, was the smug smirk that Tom wore and an oddly regretful and lost gleam in his beautiful yet deadly crimson eyes.
By the end of his tale, Harry remained silent. He didn't want to look up and see the disappointment in those brown eyes. Therefore, he was surprised when a pale and malnourished hand reached inside of his cell and gently pulled up his chin. Emerald met brown, and Harry was not prepared to see the utter rage that was directed at Voldemort instead of himself.
Shocked, Harry didn't say anything when Barty began speaking.
"That was not your fault, Harry. Voldemort was a bastard, and I promise that when I get out of here, I will kill him." He said it with so much conviction that it took a moment for Harry to stop thinking about how fucking hot Barty looked when he was talking about murder.
Not the time Harry! Stand down little Harry, stand down!
Barty was totally unaware of Harry's sudden dilemma and took his silence for a resounding yes.
After little Harry finally stood down, the words that Barty had uttered sunk in and Harry immediately began to panic.
"You can't do that! Isn't he your mentor?" Harry couldn't stop the jealousy from leaking in at the word 'mentor' even if he tried.
Barty, however picked up on it and smiled mischievously.
"Not really. I simply planned on using him to kill my father and get vengeance on the Ministry. I have no real desire to abide by his rules any longer. Plus he dared to harm my mate. That is unforgivable." Throughout his mini rant, Barty's brown eyes suddenly gained a fierce determination, and Harry smiled softly. Barty truly was one of a kind.
Closing his eyes, Harry listened to Barty mumbling about the nerve Voldemort had to have for daring to hurt and ignore 'his' Harry. It was sweet, and Harry basked in the possessive tone Barty held.
It seemed that something in his life would finally be going right.
Happy End of July, and I truly hope that you enjoyed this oneshot. See ya, Salivour!