Harry sighed as he fished the skeleton key out of his shirt pocket. He was positive trouble would be there for him… Just behind the polished mahogany door. He clenched his fist for a moment, his emerald eyes narrowing at the door. Just as quickly as the angry spell had come, it vanished. He sighed, gently unclenched his fist, set it on the door knob, pushed the key into the lock, and turned it. An audible 'click' told Harry that his doom was near. Oh yes, his doom was very near if the heavy footfall behind the door, dulled ever-so-slightly by the carpet, was anything to go by. He gently pushed open the door and pulled his key out of the lock. He kept his head bowed. If he didn't, it would cause many problems. He tucked his key back into his pocket, took his shoes off, and set them gently by the door. He closed the door gently and kept his head bowed as emerald green sock-clad feet stopped feet before him. Harry extended his arms out. Two very pale hands extended. One grabbed both of his wrists and the other roughly gripped his chin and forced him to look up and meet the angry, red gaze of his guardian.
Now, Tom Marvolo Riddle wasn't a cruel person at heart. No. In fact, at heart, he would never dream of hurting a fly. Too bad that part of him was crushed by a whip from his younger years in his father's home. So now, he was a cruel person at heart. This would be why he calmly excused himself from the company of his co-worker and his family, Vernon and Petunia Dursley and their son Dudley. He smiled genially to them as he apologized for having to leave them. He sneered at the front door as he entered the hallway, sweeping some of his obsidian hair from his eyes. As he approached the door, he straightened his emerald shirt to perfection and sighed dramatically as his young charge, the boy that resembled him in nearly every way, stepped in with his head bowed submissively. As the young boy closed the door, Tom continued until he was stopped but a few feet from the teen. The teen held out his arms. Tom internally danced. It took years to get Harrison James Potter-Riddle to remember the ultimate signs of submission. With his right hand, he gathered both of the boy's wrists into his fist and yanked his arms to the side and with his left hand; he forcefully grabbed his charge's chin.
Harry's face was void of emotion as his emerald eyes met the red ones of Tom Marvolo Riddle's. A sick smirk crawled onto Tom's face.
"Harry, Harry, Harry…" Tom chided, sounding like a kid that just got the toy he always wanted. Harry looked at him. Blankly, might I add? "Where have you been, little Harry-kins?" Tom released Harry, who fell back into his previous position with his arms by his side and his head up.
"With Hermione and Padma. We went out for Bar-B-Que and a movie after the school football game," said the teen, setting his violin case against the wall for its protection.
"And Draco?" Tom asked, his eyes sparkling.
"He broke up with me," Harry replied firmly.
The sound of skin-on-skin was heard all the way to the penthouse atop the Riddle Mansion. Vernon and his wife looked at each other and they got up and crept to the door way to the hall. The lanky form of Harry James Potter-Riddle was slumped pathetically against the wall and Tom had his right arm across his chest. He'd just slapped his "son."
"Get up, Harry!" Tom snapped. Harry stood as he had been. "He. Broke up. With you," the man repeated. Harry just looked at the man. "And how did you react?"
"I stared for a moment before accepting this fact. I then followed him out of the room," Harry said.
"Why? Did he leave first? How did he leave?!" Tom demanded. Sometimes Tom regretted raising Harry this way, because you had to push and push for information! It was really rather tiring. But good. Because children tended to tell more than needed to be heard.
"He did leave first, Tom. He left as though I was the one who had broken up with him. He was crying. He might've drawn blood he was biting his lip that hard, sir," Harry replied.
"And Hermione?"
"'Mione asked me if I was angry. I told her I did not care," answered the teen.
"Is that all?"
"She told me to speak for myself. I told her that I did not care of Draco's abandonment of me," Harry told his "father."
Tom glared. "You need to start courting again," he snarled. Harry looked at him with innocent green eyes. "Anyone, anyone! JUST START COURTING! MALE, FEMALE, I DON'T CARE, HARRISON! I JUST NEED YOU TO MARRY SO I MAY HAVE AN HEIR!!" Harry nodded and tucked a piece of obsidian hair behind his ear. He winced. "What is wrong, Harry?"
"My cheek stings," Harry answered emotionlessly. Tom leaned down and kissed Harry's cheek where the still-obvious handprint remained.
"I am sorry for hitting you, my little Griffin. I was angry. I am sorry," Tom murmured as he gently kissed Harry's cheek again. Vernon and Petunia scrambled back to their spots and began patting their son's hair down. If Harry dated Dudley, and eventually married him…. Oh, think of all the opportunities! Vernon and Petunia grinned at each other.
"Better yet," Tom's voice drifted into the sitting room, "Griffin, lie low. It will be better for others to court you. Let us hope, my Griffin that Draco does not come. Perhaps one of the Weasley boys, or that pretty little Zabini boy, will court you…" And Tom and Harry entered the sitting room. Disgustingly, they wore identical clothing. Both wore silk emerald shirts with long sleeves, silver silk slacks, and emerald socks. Both should have been models. Well, okay, so was it the same if Tom's company was a modeling industry? 'Tom's Teasing Treats' was his modeling company. And it sure lived up to its name. All of the models were ultra sexy, had fanbases from lower, lesser known industries, and had all caught Harry's eye at some point. Even the women. Harry sat down with the grace of a model and somehow managed to look ultra sexy while doing it. Quite sad that the Dursley family saw and thought this in unison, actually.
Petunia smiled genially at the boy beside Tom and then smiled at Tom. "My, my, Tom. He has grown to be a lovely young man. You and he look quite alike," she gushed. Harry smiled (in what he thought would be) shyly, pushing an annoying strand of his shoulder length obsidian hair behind one ear. Tom smiled. Yes, he raised Harry very well. At least Harry had acting skills. Too bad he never used them. "Well, little Harry, may I call you Harry?" Harry looked at Tom who nodded so his son nodded. "Well, Harry, I hope you and my little Dudley become good friends! How was your day today, Harry?"
"It was fine, thank you Mrs. Dursley," Harry said monotonously. Petunia smiled and (much to everyone's chagrin) her cheeks turned slightly pink and she patted down her blond hair.
Tom smiled and looked at Harry. Through his teeth he hissed, "Well Harry, tell her what went on!"
Harry smiled in a cheesy fashion at Petunia. "Would you like to know what I did today…?"
Petunia smiled nervously. "Well, I, is… Well, if…. What… Well… Sure," she said. Internally, Tom and Harry vomited. Externally, they both smiled in a fake fashion.
"Well, let us see…" Harry leaned into the couch, crossing his right leg over his left and throwing his arms over the back of the couch.
Pretty much: He looked like a God. What god could be questioned. Ask Petunia and she would tell you the God of Good Looks, ask Vernon and he would say the God of Wife-Stealing, and ask Dudley and he would say the God of Turn-Ons.
"Well, I went to school. After school, I went to my music tutoring," Harry began.
"What do you play?" Dudley butt in. Harry's monotonous emerald gaze was trained on the fat, blond boy.
"Violin," was the dull reply.
"What did you do after music tutoring, Harrison?" Vernon pushed.
"My best mate 'Mione asked me to go to the school football game, my boyfriend came up and asked to talk to me, I gave Expelliarmus to 'Mione, and Draco broke up with me. I then travelled to the football stadium and sat with Hermione, told her what happened, played my violin, and went to sleep. She then woke me up and she, Parvati, and I went to speak with Hermione's brother Viktor Krum," here, Harry and Tom exchanged looks, "and then the girls and I went out for Bar-B-Que and to see the movie "Bedtime Stories" and Viktor tagged along. That was my day. And now here we are," explained the teen. He then closed his eyes and leaned his head back on the back cushion of the couch.
Tom placed a pale hand on Harry's shoulder and began rubbing his thumb in circles. The room fell into a peaceful silence as everyone watched Harry sleep. About an hour of silence followed until Harry jolted in his sleep. Tom withdrew his hand and eyed his son. Harry's back arched in what would be assumed as pain. His body slammed against the couch and a thin sheen of sweat began coating Harry's face. His breathing became rapid and soon he was hardly breathing. And his eyes flashed open. They were dilated and dazed over. His emerald eyes darted around in fear… Still dilated. Tom gently placed his hand on Harry's cheek, rubbing his thumb gently over Harry's cheek.
"Where is she?" Harry whispered. His voice was hoarse.
"Who…?" Vernon asked. Harry ignored him and stood. Tom sighed. This was only the third time it had happened the past week. Hopefully it wouldn't become regular. Tom didn't want to waste his money on a therapist or a doctor. Dilated emerald eyes scanned the room. A pale hand messed obsidian locks as the teen looked around frantically.
"Where is she…? Is she hurt?!" hissed the Potter-Riddle boy.
"Harry," Tom cooed. "Hush and come to me." As if hypnotized, Harry's eyelids drooped and he sat down and curled his body against Tom's. "Sleep, my dear. Sleep. Vanish to the land of dreams, where nothing is true nor reality. Sh…" Tom stroked Harry's hair out of his face and planted a chaste kiss on his forehead.
"Mmm… Okay, Tom…." Harry mumbled.
Petunia stared. The Dursley family was so out of the loop…
"What was that…?" Petunia whispered.
Tom merely smiled. "So," he said cheerfully, cradling Harry to him in a cheesy style- that of a groom whisking his bride away, "would you like some more tea and crumpets?"
