Warnings:Dark Bipolar Harry, Dark Lord Voldemort, and as of now physical attraction only. The romance won't actually start until later. However they probably will act on their physical attraction earlier.
Disclaimer: I don't in any way, shape, or form own Harry Potter. The only thing I own is the plot of the story.
AN: Sorry for the long wait. I knew what I wanted to do, I just couldn't describe it in words until now. I warn you that this chapterr will not be my best, but it is good nontheless. Also if you haven't already, please look at the warnings for this chapter.
Chapter 1: Release The Hell Hounds
Corpses lie at his feet, and a pool of blood surrounded him.
The once perfectly normal house was now a house of horrors. Each corpse that littered the floor told the story of a gruesome and horrific death at the hands of the killer.
The walls that were once a beautiful tan was now a deep red. Blood twisted and twirled, all the while forming a twisted and intricate swirl.
The once carpeted floor was now ripped in places. Scratch marks betrayed the killer, and showed that the victim tried their best to stay rooted to one spot. It revealed how they were forcibly dragged across the room only to be tortured mercilessly.
It was a horrifying and gory sight to anyone who came across it, but to him it was a masterpiece.
He could see the beauty that the scene portrayed, and he couldn't help but stare in awe at the being, no creature, that stood before him.
A human couldn't have been responsible for this. It was simply to horrifyingly perfect. Voldemort knew this, yet he couldn't deny that he was looking right at the person responsible for it.
Harry Potter, the savior of the wizarding world, stood clad in the tightest clothes in the world, in the middle of the wreckage.
He wore a sinfully tight black shirt with delicious leather pants that outlined his figure in just the right way. His once short raven hair was now long, and rested at his waist.
Stunning Avada Kedavra green eyes practically glowed in the darkness of the house.
Harry was hauntingly beautiful, and Voldemort couldn't deny that something inside of him demanded that he get the boy to kneel before him.
It screamed in rage at him. Ordering him to bring the sinfully delicious creature home with him, and own him.
It yelled obscenities at him, threatening him in ways that he never thought of before, and Voldemort couldn't deny that he really did want to give in.
He wanted the beauty that stood before him drenched in blood from head to toe.
He longed to run his hands through the appearingly silky raven hair, and purr in fascination as he worked out invisible kinks.
He wanted to explore the teens body in ways that no one would ever be able to.
The Dark Lord longed to just mold his body with the youngers, and bring screams and purrs of delirious pleasure out of his mouth.
He wanted the boy so bad that it hurt, and he knew that he would stop at nothing to get him.
Voldemort had already decided that the teen would be his, and that was enough for now. It was only a matter of time before the boy gave in, and based on the hungry look the boy was sending him, he knew that the boy wanted him just as much.
Harry Potter, his once sworn enemy, would be his.
Harry couldn't help but smile mischievously as he stared at the corpses that lay before him.
He was covered in blood, and it just felt so good.
It was thick yet silky to the touch, and the knowledge that it was he himself who caused it, made him moan in sadistic pleasure.
He loved how the once normal house of his relatives looked bathed in blood. It was an magnificent image, and his dead relatives bodies just made the picture even more amazing.
Phantom screams rang throughout the house, and caused him to shiver uncontrollably.
It just felt so good to know that his tormentors were now dead.
He wondered what his so called friends would say if they saw him now; bathed in blood, and smiling ominously as he relished in the smell of rotting corpses.
They would probably think him to be the lowest of the low. Someone who should die, and atone for their sin in the most painful ways possible.
To him this was euphoria, and it only got better when he showed up.
The Dark Lord had apparated into the Dursley house wearing traditional dueling robes. They were black but had a stunning silver trim, and while they were built to make movement easier, they also hugged his body, giving Harry the perfect view.
While most would call the Dark Lord's serpentine like face ugly, Harry thought otherwise.
The slitted crimson red eyes peered at him sharply. Showing unveiled curiosity as they glanced around the now ruined Dursley house.
Voldemort's practically non existent nose was adorable in Harry's mind, and his lips looked luscious.
They made Harry desperately want to run over to him, and plant millions of kisses on them.
The Dark Lord's body was one that was simply too die for. His build, while slightly lithe, was muscled and lean, foretelling the hours of training and exercise he went through to get it in that shape.
Harry longed to just feel the muscles move under his touch as the Dark Lord thrust into him with abandon.
Claiming him in a way no one else but he could. He wanted to wrap his legs around the Dark Lords waist and lose himself into the pleasure that Voldemort's body would no doubt provide him.
Realizing that the man was staring at him, Harry quickly rid himself from the thoughts of how that body would perfectly fit pressed against his own.
He could see the lust burning in those red orbs, and smirked darkly to himself. It was nice to know that he could entrance the deadliest Dark Lord of the century.
Realizing that he kept Voldemort waiting, Harry spoke.
"Welcome to the blood parade Tom!" His voice held childish glee, and completely contradicted the deadly boy that was there before.
The Dark Lord merely raised an eyebrow. He couldn't deny that the childish innocence was cute on Harry. It nicely contradicted the blood and darkness that surrounded the boy, and instead made him seem like a fallen angel.
'A fallen angel that will soon be mine.' He couldn't help but think to himself. Putting on a smile for the adorable teen, Tom realized that this wasn't a blood parade just yet, but he would help Harry make one.
He would make the teen his consort, and together they would utterly annihilate the war. The dark side would win, and they would rule the world side by side.
"This isn't a blood parade Harry. However with my help we can make one. Do you want my help Harry?" His voice was seductive, and he knew that while it might not affect the teen in the same way it affected others, Harry would still come to his side. Even if it was just for the blood shed.
The teen nodded vigorously, and a giant smile broke out across his features.
"Let's make a blood parade Tommy!" His cheerful voice decided. Voldemort couldn't help but smile, and that was the start of the end of the war.
Together the two would accomplish great things. All the while experiencing loss, betrayal, sorrow, happiness, excitement, and love.
Together they would change the fates, and save Lady magic. Together they would create the dawn of something new.