I know, already? Another music inspired fic? For this ship even? What the hell?
Well… I've been holding off on starting anything new so I have a list of ideas I've had and I've just recently decided to say screw it. I need out of this damn writer's block. So. Here we are. This fic was inspired by Shawn Mendes' song Mercy.
Sitting in the library of the Riddle House that Tom had taken up as his latest base of operations, Harry was flipping through one of the books he had already read at least three times. Situated in a comfortable plush chair sat facing the small fireplace in the corner of the large room the teen is curled up sideways in the seat, the book resting in his lap. The door to the library is visible in his peripheral vision and the flames warming the right side of his body. He turns the page again, sighing as he green gaze becomes unfocused on the text, the words becoming nothing more than indistinguishable black etchings on the paper. The door to the library slams open and Harry lifts his head to see Tom striding in, his steps long and his legs moving quickly as he rids the distance between them. Seating himself on the loveseat also placed in the half circle of furniture encasing the open hearth, Tom angles his body to be facing Harry. The older of the two wears a victorious smirk as he uses his long, pale, fingers to deftly pluck the book on Legilimency from Harry's hands.
"Harry," the man begins, his voice soft as always but with an unusual hint of giddiness that would have even the inner ring of Death Eaters shuddering in fear of the next word that would surely come from their lord's lips. "I've finally done it." The teen merely looks at him in feigned annoyance, reaching out to reclaim the book from the man's lap.
"Oh? And what is it you've done?" The green eyed male shows no interest or excitement for the man's success that seemed to have such a great impact on him.
"I've finally gained the vampire's allegiance in this war." If he had been anyone else Harry was sure he'd be hollering in excitement but because of his status as Dark Lord he instead sat stoically, the only thing giving away his happiness was the slight jiggling of his left leg and the occasional twitch at the corner of his mouth as he fought off the urge to grin widely.
"And how did you manage that?" He asks, his bored tone belying the elation he was feeling for the man who had brought him in so many years ago. Harry ruffled through the pages until he found where he had been cut off by the dark haired man.
Tom glanced to the side, as though feeling sheepish. "I might have mentioned that 'the boy who lived' had a neutral, if not dark, affiliation in this war." Sharp green eyes snap up, the glare evident as his gaze clashes with red.
"And why, pray tell, would you do that?" Harry's voice came out almost as a growl in his anger as his eyes narrowed and he closed his book once more, keeping a finger tucked in between the pages to retain his spot, leaning forward to maximize the effect of his glare.
"This is information that will be found out soon enough Harry. This is the only way I could have convinced them, surely you understand?" If this wasn't the man previously known as Voldemort one might accuse him of looking at Harry pleading. With a sigh and a shake of his head, Harry leans back into his previous position and opens his book once more and turns his gaze back to the pages.
"That doesn't mean I like it." The teen says quietly and the older man chooses to stay silent, summoning his own book to read as Harry loses his thoughts to the past. To his life up until just before his third year at Hogwarts, when this man had found him sitting on the curb beside the road after accidentally expanding his Aunt Marge. And all of the bittersweet memories afterward. When he had finally learned of Dumbledore's treachery, the compulsion charms and potions and spells cast upon him without his knowledge. Knowing that the old man knew about the treatment he received while living with the Dursley's and his reasoning for doing nothing about it? So that it was assured Harry didn't grow up with an enlarged head. Scowling, Harry shuts the book he wasn't really reading anyways and shifts his position so that he can rest an elbow on the armrest at his feet, leaning his chin into the palm of his hand he simply keeps his gaze on Tom, looking him over as the older man read, oblivious to the stare. The door was pushed open again, much more gently this time and both men could hear the scraping of Nagini's scales across the ground as she slithered forward, winding around Harry's chair before making her way to Tom's lap, coiling herself up and rest her head on her body.
Hello Nagini. Tom hisses to his pet, reaching down to stroke the top of her head as he looks up to find Harry's eyes on him, his gaze intense.
"Please have mercy on me," Harry speaks, so quietly it might seem as though he was speaking to himself but he was aiming his words at the older man.
"What are you talking about Harry?" The crimson gaze was on Harry, scrutinizing the boy in search of something, even he's not sure what, but finding nothing.
"Take it easy on my heart, even though you don't mean to hurt me you keep tearing me apart." Green eyes flick down to the snake who had begun to make her way back out of the room as the teen stood and stepped forward. "You've been destroying me, you act as though I might have a chance one moment and then the next there's absolutely no way." Harry leans down, his palms pressing into the fabric of the loveseat on either side of Tom's head. "You act as though you know, like you know exactly what you're doing to me and then you're completely void of any recognition of how I feel." The teen lowered his body to even out the height difference, his knees pressing down on the loveseat as he straddles Tom's lap. "You've got a hold on me and you don't even know your power, you don't even realise how much you affect me." Harry leans his face down to press his forehead against Tom's.
Tom gazes up into the smoldering green eyes and can't help reaching his arms up to wrap around the teen's waist but the momentary look of shock on his face made it worth it. Their faces tilt closer together, their bodies leaning closer until Harry feels a sharp pain in his stomach and looks down to see the corner of the book Tom had been reading prodding into his flesh. Groaning and pulling back, Harry lifts the book and sets it beside them on the loveseat before leaning back in to press a slow, languid kiss to Tom's lips.
Alright, so this is it for this one. I'm sorry, I haven't slept yet and I'm tired. So there are probably be a lot of mistakes but I don't really care enough to fix them at this moment. I hope you enjoyed this story!