Strawberry
Harry wraps himself up in a silk and lace, drapes it casually as he can before he spreads his legs eagle-wide and it's stained, torn off, and tossed to the side. He likes being soft to contrast his unnatural cravings, likes the look in Mr. Riddle's eyes when he looks more like a little girl than the teenage boy they both know he is. All the gentle pink things he owns is the reason why he does all his own laundry. He didn't know what he'd do if his mum, or Merlin forbid his dad, saw any of it. How he could answer any possible questions that'd arise.
He grows out his hair now. It's down to his shoulders, looped and wavy naturally. He uses a number of potions and enchanted oils to make his hair into a consistent measure of waves, tipped in curls that bend towards his neck. It's always soft and easy to pull, it's a self-grown leash. He loves it when Mr. Riddle grabs it while he's bent over, unable to scream even though it hurts because his brain's preoccupied with the older wizard's cock turning him inside out and the nasty words flowing from his mouth. He can maintain focus until he's being spread open.
Mr. Riddle is the reason Harry lives. Comparing his life now to what it was before they met, Harry couldn't say he was very happy. He doesn't stress about schoolwork anymore because Mr. Riddle will always take good care of him, doesn't have to worry if something's expensive because Mr. Riddle will buy it for him, doesn't have to think if he doesn't need to. He still does, of course, because he knows how much it pleases Mr. Riddle when Harry masters a new spell that's above the skill level typical of those his age. He tries his very hardest to please Mr. Riddle, no matter what he has to do. He maintains a gag reflex because Mr. Riddle likes it when he chokes and he tortures muggles because Mr. Riddle thinks he looks cute when he does.
Life is very simple since he met Mr. Riddle.
In the summer, Harry works at Mr. Riddle's shop whenever the wizard is there. When he isn't, Harry says he's there then goes wherever the wizard is or tells him to. A lot of times he waits around Malfoy Manor with Draco. Sometimes he's proudly paraded around like the beautiful, black-haired pale-skinned trophy he is. Other times he's sitting on Mr. Riddle's lap when he's the Dark Lord, or sitting by his chair while he snarls out orders and Crucio's failures. Harry still can't say who he prefers, Mr. Riddle or the Dark Lord. He loves them both.
"Off to work?" His dad asks, smiling over his copy of the Daily Prophet. He's so proud his oldest son worked a summer job, something he certainly didn't need to do. He's an heir; he has plenty of gold waiting for him when he turns seventeen and even more when his dad passes. He thinks it's a sign of a valuable work ethic. Harry hopes his dad never knows the truth, even though sometimes he desperately wants to because he hates lying to him.
"Yup." Harry cheerily says, he grabs an apple and kisses his mum's cheek goodbye. He ruffles his little sister's hair and pinches his little brother's cheek, before he takes the Floo to the Leaky Cauldron and walks to Mr. Riddle's shop in Knockturn Alley.
Mr. Riddle runs a candy shop. It's filled with all sorts of sweets, as well as ones that are poisoned or filled with some ill-meaning potion. It's a simple cover for him, and Harry thinks it's something he enjoys, too. Harry remembers when he first found the store when he was eleven, wonders where he'd be if Tom hadn't said hello, if he hadn't come back two years later to apply for a summer job, if he hadn't visited as often as possible anyways to buy the non-toxic sugary goodies sold.
Harry eats sorts the candies and works the counter sometimes. Other times he's below the counter, or he's sitting on top snacking on a collection of teeth-rotting delectable's. There are days the shop's closed and the curtains are drawn tightly shut, those days are Harry's favorite because that's when he's bent over somewhere or on spread on top of something or pinned against something horizontally stable.
As Harry swallows down Mr. Riddle's cock, enjoying the taste and the grip in his hair, he can't imagine a better life than the one he has.
Strawberry
"You're eating all of my blood pops." Mr. Riddle says, though he doesn't even sound the slightest best annoyed. He tucks strands of Harry's hair behind his right ear.
"Sorry." Harry smiles, leaning into the wizard's cold fingers. "You're all out of cherry."
"I think I'm all out because someone took them all home." Mr. Riddle grins. "I'll have a restock come in tomorrow."
"Order extra for me." Harry says.
"I always do, yet you always manage to eat even more than I expect." Mr. Riddle playfully sighs. "What ought I do with you?"
"Kiss me?" Harry offers.
Mr. Riddle chuckles, but he pulls the blood pop away from Harry's mouth and softly pushes their lips together. When his tongue licks its way inside, the candy's forgotten and Harry threads his fingers into the wizard's hair.
He has to admit, he enjoys kisses the most.
Sweetheart
When Harry's at Hogwarts, he finds himself lost. Mr. Riddle visits him during Hogsmeade weekends, sends him gifts every day and writes him just as much, but Harry still feels it isn't enough. He likes to hope Mr. Riddle feels the same, otherwise there wouldn't be all the effort to keep them connected when they're so far apart.
It's Harry's sixth year and he gets weird looks from the other Gryffindor boys in his dorm, because while they're dressing down and getting into bed, he's rubbing sweet-smelling creams into his skin and cleaning his nails. There's one cream to make his skin soft and another to make it smell like bubblegum-flavored cotton candy. Mr. Riddle says he always tastes like candy, Harry likes to smell like it, too.
Mr. Riddle smells like copper and the slightest touch of chocolate. Sometimes he smells like death and fear, it melts Harry's insides. Very rarely, he smells like sugar and mint. Harry enjoys Mr. Riddle no matter what he smells like, though he has to admit he loves the scent of rotting flesh that sometimes hangs around him.
On the first day in Potions, Professor Slughorn introduces them to threw cauldrons.
Out of one, Harry smelt Mr. Riddle. He always dunked his entire head inside. He wasn't the only one.
"Miss Granger, what do you smell?" Slughorn gestures to Harry's friend.
"Freshly mown grass." Hermione began. "New parchment. Spearmint toothpaste." She hesitated, then nodded.
"What about you, Potter?" Slughorn turns to Harry.
Harry inhales the ever-changing the smell and swallows. "Chocolate and blood pops." He declares. He can feel the scent of dead flesh pounding through his nose, but he lies. "Sugar, too."
"This potion is Amortentia. It's the most powerful Love Potion known to mankind. What you smell, is what attracts you the most." Slughorn proudly explains.
They brew the Draught of Living Death to win a vial of Felix Felicis. Mr. Riddle had taught Harry how to make the potion before, Harry nearly wins the vial. He would've if he hadn't gotten distracted while stirring, his thoughts occupied by Mr. Riddle instead of brewing. The vial ends up being given to Draco.
"He had to have cheated!" Hermione hisses. "I saw him crushing the beans!"
Harry rolls his eyes. "It's just a class." He says.
She huffs angrily and folds her arms. "It's not just a class, Harry! We're preparing for our N.E.W.T.'s!"
He just laughs.
Strawberry
The first Hogsmeade weekend, Harry leaves his group of friends, telling them he was going to go visit Draco Malfoy. They all hate him, but they tolerate Harry's friendship with the Slytherin, so they let him leave peacefully. As he's walking away, he encounters Draco and instructs him to hide somewhere.
"Great, I get to waste my day because the Dark Lord wants a shag." Draco grumbles.
"Thanks!" Harry laughs, pinching his friend's cheek and running off.
Mr. Riddle waited for him inside of a shop that sells knives. The owner was gone and the store was, officially, closed for the day.
Harry wraps his arms around the wizard and doesn't want to let ago. The Love Potion didn't come close to the perfection that was Mr. Riddle, couldn't dream of even coming close to the warmth and unique mixture of scents.
When they kiss, he has to force himself to not pout when they part.
"How have you been?" Mr. Riddle asks, sitting down on a chair and pulling Harry down onto his lap. He maneuvers himself carefully until he's comfortable, tucking himself underneath Tom's chin.
"Been good." Harry says. "Almost won a bottle of Felix Felicis, but Draco got it instead."
"Professor Slughorn is still doing that old trick?" Mr. Riddle runs his fingers through Harry's hair. "I won that bottle in my sixth year. Then, I won a bottle of Amortentia in my seventh."
"What did you use them for?" Harry asks.
"I used the Felix Felicis before I went to meet my relatives for the first time. It went splendidly, for me." He chuckles, deep and rich that rumbled in his chest. Harry wishes he was a cat so he could purr. "I gave the Amortentia to a friend. The young Malfoy's grandfather, Abraxas. He used it on his fiancé to see if her behavior would change. It did not, and they married two months after graduation."
"That's sweet." Harry says. "I wonder what I could've done with the Felix Felicis."
"I can make you an entire cauldron." Mr. Riddle takes Harry's hand and kisses the knuckles. "Just ask."
Harry laughs. "I don't need a liquid luck. I've got you." He says.
"You make me blush." Mr. Riddle smiles against the back of Harry's hand. "Did you get my care package?"
"Uh huh." Harry nods. "My friends are suspicious of all the things you send me, but they don't ask. I feel like I should tell them, but if I do, my mum and dad might find out, and they can stop me from being with you."
"That'll never happen." Mr. Riddle says. "If anyone tries, they'll suffer a horribly painful death."
Harry's heart flutters. "You're so sweet." He whispers, smiling.
"Only for you, my dear." Mr. Riddle rubs his knuckles.
Strawberry
Harry unwraps a box of hard candies, wrapped in colorful and decorative plastic, on Halloween morning. He gives some to the first year muggleborns who were missing out on the holiday, but keeps most to himself. He snacks on the all day, accidentally drops a wrapper into his cauldron, luckily after he had given a sample to the professor. Slughorn dismissed the resulting explosion and wished him a good Halloween.
"You're going to destroy your teeth." Hermione says to him as they walk from lunch to Arithmancy.
"Maybe." Harry shrugs. "Spells can fix them."
"Could just eat less candy. Or sugar-free candy." She suggests.
Harry brushes it off, pulls off a strawberry wrapped with a spooky face on it to reveal a blood-flavored sphere. He places it on the center of his tongue.
"Who sent you that?" Hermione asks. "I know it wasn't your parents, they sent you the pumpkin pastries yesterday. Is it the same person who sends you all the gifts you've been getting? You've said it's from your mum and dad or you've ordered them, but I'm really not so sure."
"A friend." He tells her. "It's okay, Hermione. It's just a friend."
"A boyfriend?" She asks.
Harry blushes. "No." He lies.
"You can tell me." Hermione says, sighing. "None of us are stupid. We know you're seeing someone, and while everyone's sure you have some old witch spoiling you, I'm betting it's a wizard."
"What makes you say that?" Harry wonders, forcing his blush down. He tries to think of anything but Mr. Riddle. He fails.
"Remember our first Potions class? What you smelled in the Amortentia." Hermione speaks slowly, uncertainly. "Well…You work at a candy shop during the summer, in Knockturn…I visited you once there, remember? I met the owner. Tom Riddle, right?"
Harry's guts froze. He swallowed the blood-pop flavored candy and nodded.
"It's okay if you're with him." Hermione places her hand on his shoulder. "I know why you have to keep it secret. He's older than you and he might get in trouble, people might not think the best of it with all that he sends you…But you're my friend. I support you no matter what."
"I…" Harry struggles for a moment. "I can't believe you figured it out." He admits.
"Harry, I'm not oblivious nor am I in denial." Hermione rolls her eyes. "I think Ron can guess it, too, but he might as well be from Egypt."
At that, Harry has to laugh. "I'll take Mr. Riddle to your guys' wedding." He declares.
It was her time to flush. "I don't know watch you're talking about! I would never marry him!" She rushes forward. "We better get to class, we're going to be late!"
Strawberry
Harry dreams of Mr. Riddle a lot. He hates waking up in the mornings when he's at Hogwarts, because he knows he can't see him as soon as possible. He mourns the lack of the wizard in silence, picks at whatever candy he has and smothers himself in sugar-smelling oils. He's taken to using a different smell every morning, wondering which Mr. Riddle would like the most.
There are nights where he dreams he's swimming in a pool of pink milk, the smell of strawberry bubblegum surrounding him. Corpses float nearby him, rotating around him in a large radius, moving around as he swims. Sometimes he drowns in the milk and Mr. Riddle saves him, or as he floats to the bottom, Mr. Riddle is tied to him. He hopes he never drags the wizard down with him, wherever he might weaken and die. He could never forgive himself if he did.
The winter holidays arrive quickly. Harry is so grateful when they do. He signs up to go home, wondering what he'll get Mr. Riddle for his Christmas and for his birthday. He wonders what he'll get from Mr. Riddle for Christmas, too, but that doesn't seem as pressing of a concern. It's hard to shop for the older wizard. Harry hopes he can find something nice in Diagon or Knockturn.
"What do you plan on doing during the holidays?" Ron asks.
"Nothing much. Maybe work a few hours at the candy shop." Harry says. "Save up money for something nice for my mum and dad."
"Merlin, I should get a job, too." Ron groans. "I'd like to get my mum something nice. She always tells all of us not to get her anything, but when Bill or Charlie or Percy gives her something she gets so happy."
"Mums always say they want nothing, but they secretly do." Dean declares.
Neville nods in agreement. "I gave my mom roses that won't wilt for her birthday." He mentions.
"That's sweet." Harry says. He loves dahlias and columbines, wishes he could grow them himself but they never strive the way they should. Mr. Riddle promises him an extravagant garden. Harry can't wait until he steps out of Hogwarts for the last time.
The night before leaving for Christmas holidays, Harry dreams he's drowning in chocolate milk and Tom's watching from the rim of the pool, his feet dunked in. When he dies in his dream, he wakes up with a smile.
It felt like a very nice dream.
Sweetheart
At home, things feel tense. Harry doesn't know what it is, but his parents seem jumpy, people he doesn't always recognize are coming and going from the Floo by the hour. He doesn't care, doesn't pay any attention, until his mum and dad tell him he can't go see Mr. Riddle. In fact, they tell him he can't work for the wizard anymore.
"You can't make me." Harry folds his arms, glaring. "I like working with him! You can't make me stay at home forever! You don't even have a good reason!" He says.
"Harry, trust us." His mum says.
His dad sighs. "Lily, we should tell him. He's close to the man. He has a right to know." He says.
"Know what?" Harry snaps, becoming agitated. He wants, needs, to see Mr. Riddle. He doesn't know what he'll do if he can't.
"Harry…" His mum hesitates.
"There's a war brewing." His dad says. "For a while, now, but it's about to happen soon. And…The wizard you work for, Tom Riddle. He's not on the good side."
"Mr. Riddle's a good wizard." Harry says. He thinks of the time he was fingered open with someone's blood on Mr. Riddle's fingers. He brushes off the memory. Now isn't the time to become excited.
"No, he isn't." his mum says. "Harry, he's a Dark wizard."
Harry frowns. "So? Even if he's a Dark wizard, that doesn't mean he's evil" He insists.
"There's a Dark Lord on the rise. Riddle works for him. He's killed people for him. He could kill you." His dad says.
"He wouldn't hurt me!" Harry stands up. "What are you even basing this on? It's all stupid!" He thinks, suddenly, it should hurt to not tell his mum and dad all that he knows, but he doubts it would help his argument very much. Ignorance and lies are the best route, for now.
"Harry James Potter! You will listen to us! We are your parents!" His mum stands opposite of him.
"You're saying Mr. Riddle is evil!" Harry screams. "How can you expect me to just accept that?" He turns around and storms out. He ignores his parents' yelling and leaves the cottage, angrily marching as far away as he can.
He goes to a restaurant in the village. He uses the owner's Floo and goes straight to the candy shop.
Mr. Riddle welcomes him with a hug.
"They tried telling me not to see you." Harry cries. "I can't! I need to see you!"
"Sweet boy," Mr. Riddle coos, he cups Harry's face. "There's something big coming soon. I've waited too long to shed this identity and start what I was born to do. As a result of being close to me, you will have to suffer accusations. You will be told the worst of me."
Harry sniffles. "I don't care if you light the world on fire, I love you. They aren't going to stop me from that." He says.
Mr. Riddle smiles and softly kisses him. "I know." He says. "If you ever feel the need, you can come straight to me. Until you turn seventeen, remain with your parents."
"But they won't let me see you! I have to run away to come here." Harry says.
"Then we will part after tonight, just for now. I will see you during your Hogsmeade trips. After you graduate, we can be patient. Once you turn seventeen, they have no power over you. But until then, they can make you do anything they want." Mr. Riddle kisses him again. "Come with me. We'll spend the night together, it'll be the last for a long time."
Strawberry
Harry arrives home with pockets full of pink candy and a limp. He ignores his mum, dad, and his godfather calling out to him and goes straight to his room. He's got teeth marks on the insides of his thighs, scratches down his sides, hand prints on his waist, and red lines where a knife had plunged into him hours before. He's tired and he wants to sleep, he wants to cry because he already misses Mr. Riddle.
In his room, he undresses and changes into his pajamas. He doesn't have the heart to use any of his creams or oils, he just slides into his bed. He rubs his face on his pillow, he can't hold back the tears.
He falls asleep with them drying on his cheeks.
Strawberry
"I don't know what we can do." Lily says, holding her cup of tea tightly. "He admires that horrible man."
"He came back. That's all that matters." James reassures her.
Sirius and Remus shared a look from the other end of the table, unsure if they should say what they had already guessed a long time ago. Sirius decided then his friends could handle it and opens his mouth. "Harry's fucking him." He declares.
Remus splutters. "Sirius! Dear Merlin, you could've been more gentle!" He smacks the man's arm.
"What?" James asks, confused.
"You're wrong." Lily says. "We'd know if Harry was in a relationship. And why wouldn't he tell us?"
"Does any of us even know when Riddle was born? He's way older than us." Sirius says. "Do you think Harry would tell us?"
"Riddle has been buying Harry things since he started working for him." Remus adds.
"And, Merlin, did you see his limp when he came home?" Sirius shakes his head. "At best, Harry was just being used. At worst, Riddle actually cares about him."
Lily and James share a wince.
"We would've noticed." James insists.
"If they're in any sort of relationship…What could happen to Harry?" Lily shakes her head. "No, I can't imagine it. Our son's a good boy. He would be able to tell."
"If he was able to tell anything about Riddle, he would already know what kind of man he is." Sirius says.
"We guessed it a lot time ago. We just decided not to tell you." Remus says. "Ever since we learned that Riddle was a Death Eater, we talked about it but…We weren't sure how to tell you, or how you'd handle it."
"Riddle killed Peter." James says. "Riddle is the goddamn lieutenant to Lord Fucking Voldemort! Why would he take his time manipulating Harry?"
"To attack our family. We're close to Dumbledore." Lily mutters.
"Sick pleasure of fucking up a kid." Sirius shrugs. "Doesn't matter what his reasons are. His claws are sunk into Harry. It's going to take ages to remove them."
"If we're lucky, Harry's just wrapped up in a teenage crush." Remus says. "If we're not, he's going to be in love. It's going to be difficult either way, though." He admits.
"Merlin." James rubs his nose. "I just can't imagine my son…"
Lily places her hand on James' shoulder. "We're going to have to spend a lot of time talking to Harry. We're going to have to hope with all our hearts he sees reason." She says.
"Doubt it." Sirius says. Remus glares at him. "Teenagers fall in love so fast it hurts. Look at them." He gestures to Lily and James. "Thought it was a phase, didn't we? Look how that went."
"My son isn't going to marry a Dark wizard!" James hisses. "He's going to marry someone who isn't a goddamn murderer!"
Sirius shrugs. "What if Harry turns out to choose Riddle over us? I know damn well I won't be able to fight against him, even if he's never on the battlefield. Have to face reality here. There's all sorts of possibilities. One could be Riddle actually cares about Harry, Harry loves them, and Harry chooses him over us. He could become a Dark wizard. He could be a Dark wizard already. He might have already known about Voldemort. Teenagers lie all the time. I did. You did."
"Merlin, just suck the hope out of him." Remus says.
"Reality, my friends." Sirius declares.
Strawberry
Harry gets a burgundy dahlia on Christmas. He holds it close and doesn't come out of his room.
Strawberry
When school resumes in January, Harry feels as though life has no meaning. He doesn't want to listen to his professors or study, wants to be with Mr. Riddle. He had spent the holidays listening to his parents insult Mr. Riddle, try to convince him of the wizard's worthlessness while also refraining from telling anything about this coming war. Harry knows a lot already, more than he should, but he doesn't care about any of it. He just wants to be back on Mr. Riddle's lap, soaking up his warmth or sitting on his cock. The best option would be both.
Time inches by slowly. Harry can't bring himself to talk to his friends. They learn to leave him alone, offering silent support whenever he needs it the most. Ron makes sure he eats, Hermione makes sure he does his homework and if he doesn't she does it for him, Neville lightens up the dormitory with colorful plants. Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan pull pranks on Hufflepuffs to try to get him to laugh.
Life feels worthless. Harry feels numb. He knows somewhere deep down he shouldn't be so effected, but he can't not be.
He dreams of pools of blood and his family screaming at him, he has to climb over the bodies of his friends to get to Mr. Riddle. He doesn't care when he breaks Ron's nose, pays no attention when his mum is attacked behind him, can't even bother to turn around when he hears his dad's screams mix with his godfather's because by then he's surrounded by Mr. Riddle and he can't think of anything else.
He wonders if Mr. Riddle misses him just as much. He gets gifts every day, all with long letters. He prizes them, doesn't use a single sugary-smelling vial and slowly eats every piece of candy to enjoy them the most he can.
Strawberry
School ends. Harry goes home with his parents. He manages to stay until his birthday. He leaves and he never comes back.
I honest to God meant for there to be an ACTUAL ending, but then I was like..."Hey, I should totally leave an open ending to fuck with anyone who gets really into the story! :D" So that's what happened. Lmao. I hope it seems all poetic and deep and shit. If not...Well, I tried!
While writing this, I struggled to remain in present tense. There was a certain mood I was doing my best to establish, I believed present tense was the best way to do so. I took a lot of inspiration from a J2 fic on AO3 that was the best damn thing I've ever read and still is. It was what inspired me to start writing the way I do. I think there's a total lack of certain types of stories in the HP fandom, especially in the LVxHP/TMRxHP section. I hope I managed to get the creepy, lovey, feminine-ish mood down.
I mentioned dahlias because of the famous 'Black Dahlia' woman who was murdered and mutilated, the burgundy dahlia is a black dahlia. I also used columbines because of the Columbine High School Massacre. Both flowers are linked to death, so that's why I chose to use them. I wanted to stress more on columbines, too, but I decided against it. I wanted to use the flowers just barely.
Throughout the story, I tried to use candy, strawberries, and pink the most I could. I wanted to stress Harry's mentality and all-consuming love for 'Mr. Riddle'. I wanted to also make sure it was obvious that he had loving friends and family, so there's very little reason for him to go all evil or fucked in the head, but he falls in love and that fucks him over instead! Though, depending who you ask, it's the good fucking and not the bad fucking. I think it's a mixture of both!
So, yeah. This was my attempt to be poetic, use figurative language, all sorts of shit...I don't know if I got it down though. I'm not the best writer but, hey! I try!
this is also my 18th story to post here in FFN and I'm legit proud. I'm trying to make more of my stories with deeper meaning and longer. The last thing I posted was self-indulgent, the thing I'm working on bit by bit is also self-indulgent, and I'm totally ignoring something I'm obligated to write lmao. i hope this was a good product of my procrastination!
p.s. this is the longest fic i've posted at 4.3k words (that isn't multi-chapter). om d