Harry sat at his desk, feet tapping impatiently underneath, eyes drooping in despair as they longed to close. It was Friday afternoon, and the world continued to taunt him with that fact, echoing the words Friday Friday Friday against his teeth. He hated Fridays, it was an unlucky day, something always went wrong, and after having been kept up half the night with Lily's drama, he would really like to stop being so vigilant.

He traced an invisible ring on his desk, leaning his head against the chair to... just rest for a bit, just let the world take a day off from him, or him take a day off from the world. His eyes closed, and he could feel himself drifting when he BAM. A loud noise shook his tiny corner office, and Harry sat up straight, having predicted something happening, feeling his wand through his pants.

A squeaky voice called out from the other room,

"Its okay! The copier spell manfunctioned again, and something exploded, its okay, I'll go talk to the Department of Mysteries..."

The voice continued to sound as they left Harry at his desk, who's eyes were still wide and ready. A small knock on the door sounded, polite and concise, two knocks, before the door swung open letting them in.

Harry thought he needed more sleep, because otherwise he would swear there was a smartly dressed Tom Riddle standing in his office. He appeared to be the same age as him, and swept forward with all pale skin and luscious eyes, brown hair that parted just so, and lips that curled seductively as if he had something so important to say. Tom, as Harry had decided to call this person, crept forward, leaning hands against his desk, head near Harry's, eyes cutting like ice shards into his own.

Tom purred,

"Hello Mr. Harry Potter, it would seem I have been assigned to you."

Harry blinked, the snake in his pants coming to attention slightly as the heat from the other body emanated towards him. He whispered raspily,

"Assigned to me?"

Tom smirked, running a finger down Harry's shocked face,

"As your concubine of course."

Harry flushed red, spluttering, confused, and most definitely hard. Tom leaned forwards more, resting on the edge of the desk, hot breath puffing against his ear in desire,

"Yours to use as you please..."

The other man's hand reached towards his hardness, so close, and Harry thought he might faint. It was so close, inches away, when... he woke up to a knock on his door, eyes looking up hopefully of who might enter.

It was not Tom riddle, instead a portly woman with a creepy smile and eyes that drilled into him like he was a piece of meat. A fan, probably, or maybe she worked here.

"Mr. Potter, there seems to be a snake in the Department of Magical Creature Control that needs your attention, since you are the only one who can communicate with them, and it is of a rare breed who thanks to the new Granger legislation no one can legally kill."

Harry nodded, waiting for the woman to leave before he dealt with the snake in his pants, the one two floors down could wait.