Eyes-

Swaying Me


"Once upon a time, there lived a beautiful young witch with fiery red hair and gullible green eyes. Despite living a mere seventeen years, her brilliance in the magical arts surpassed wizards decades her senior, prompting envy from all around her, including those she held close to her heart. But this lovely witch was still naïve in many ways, even with constant admonishing from her father, the greatest dark wizard of the millennium. Her heart remained on her sleeve still, the foolishness of her youth preventing her from seeing the truth.

Her name was Lily, and I killed her with my own wand."

(O-O)

All in all, Harry felt a bit smug.

Not that he wasn't a bit leery in the face of Tom's anger, but there could only be one reason that the Slytherin's magic pulsed with rage. It felt akin to an obsidian flame, licking at the edges of everything in reach, searching for something to devour whole. The Ravenclaw felt a smidge of fear at the pit of his gut, but that same place had a swirl of heat making him want to squirm… In pleasure, really. It was quite odd, but Tom Riddle always made him feel something odd.

Tom certainly seemed to be jealous, and that satisfied Harry more than Tom's touch.

Merlin, he was twisted.

Tom's cobalt eyes lit with glee as Alphard Black's body fell with a resounding thud, and he, being the intuitive wizard that he was, realized his favorite Slytherin found something in the other guy's mind that deeply satisfied him. Which probably meant bad things for Harry, yet still, that heat swirled even more, and he knew his cheeks were likely flushed.

Did he mention his lack of self-preservation in the face of Tom?

"So," began the wry voice, "this is the scum that entertains you?"

He fiddled with the rim of his glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose. "Well, obviously. And quite often at that."

Harry's tone betrayed his conceit, and maybe it was purposely, but the sickeningly sweet smile that parted his lips afterwards was probably a bad idea.

Confirmation came in the form of a stinging hex. Harry cringed a bit in pain, thankful it wasn't a curse.

Masochist could also be added to the list, if the increasingly hot bubble was anything to go by.

"You're utterly unbearable. And quite lucky that I came when I did, though I almost regret being here."

Harry blinked. "What do you mean?"

Tom leaned against a nearby stone wall, arms crossed in an almost bored manner. But Harry knew differently. He felt that magic trying to eat him.

"A few of Black's," the teen spat out the name as if it tasted of trash, "memories, combined with one of Dumbledore's, have proven my theory correct."

I meant something different…

And as if he didn't have a filter around the other boy, he smiled coyly and said, "What I really meant to say was what do you mean you almost regret being here? Obviously, you meant to be here if you came so far out of the boundaries of your rounds to find me…"

Tom glared. "Be serious. Or I won't explain it to you."

Harry pouted. He was serious, but oh well. He straightened his rumpled collar and sat in a dusty chair behind him. "By all means, please go on."

"According to what I have seen through the eyes of this sorry excuse for a pureblood wizard, Dumbledore has been manipulating him from day one of his Hogwarts' career. Playing on his lack of affinity for the Dark Arts, which should be in his genes as a bloody Black, the old coot has gained insight on the summer 'meetings' held at the Black's countryside manor. Which, conveniently, you happen to attend every year."

At that, Harry checked his composure, ensuring his face was blank. He was seriously interested in which direction Tom was taking this, but that was the key word. Tom was seriously making Harry's life more difficult with each additional word that came out of his perfect mouth.

"At this point, I already know that Dumbledore's issue has less to do with you and more to do with your grandfather. I originally suspected a power struggle between the two, but after the memory I saw earlier, and the somewhat surprising hatred towards you…"

Harry, pretty done with listening to his life unraveling and mentally scrambling for a quick fix, suddenly stood. "That much I could figure out on my own. I'm not a simpleton, despite what you may think. In fact, I've already written my grandfather on the matter, and I'm simply waiting on his reply. Which brings us to this," Harry paused, using his hand to wave between the two of them. "He will take care of this, and I'm thrilled to say, your assistance is no longer needed."

The Slytherin heir's entire demeanor visibly darkened, and his eyes made dark promises.

Harry didn't care what dark promises Tom's face made. He thought of his plans to integrate Tom into the circle, to ensure Tom's future, and he firmly planted his feet in the ground, mind in the moment.

This dance with the snake could not have any mistakes on his part.

"Excuse me? I don't think I heard you correctly."

Harry sniffed as if he was beneath him, playing the part that needed to be played. "Oh no, you heard correctly. It is done. Albus Dumbledore will be repaid, and you would be wise to stay out of it."

One step. Wand out. "Albus Dumbledore is mine," hiss Tom.

Harry glanced at his nails. "He harmed me, not you. That's not your revenge to take. Not when you are the weapon he used, Tom."

Another step. "You are mine. All else is insignificant. Which reminds me," said Tom, sneer corrupting his chiseled features. "Quaere fratrem tuum." A silver spell shot from his wand and hit the wizard still unconscious due to the excruciating pain of Tom's Legillimency and Obliviate.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Incest is your punishment for him?"

Tom clenched his jaw. "He will forever seek the flesh of his family, as will his children, and their children, until his lineage is eventually condemned for being so inbred that they shan't even conceive. The Blacks ought to feel relief that they have three other children."

The Potter heir sighed. How sweet.

He wanted to give in, to tell everyone that yes, he did belong to Tom Riddle, forever and always, but instead, he said, "My name is Harry Potter, and I'm afraid that I am not yours, as you like to say. I can't belong to you when I'm the sole heir of Gellert Grindelwald and the Potter line."

Tom's face hardened, his body no longer leaning towards him, and Harry wanted to cry. He might as well have came out and said that he can't be seen with halfblood.

But it was for the greater good, as his grandfather liked to say.

"Really Tom, it's been fun! But in all sincerity, leave this be. I'd hate to have my favorite dalliance out of favor when I'm not quite finished with you yet." Harry threw out a saccharine smile for good measure.

Something cold and calculating danced behind those deep blue eyes. But then, instead of cursing him like Tom should have, the visibly tight grip on his wand became loose, and amusement flickered onto his face.

Harry flushed as Tom opened his mouth to chuckle, and he became a tomato as the Slytherin began full-out laughing, shoulders shaking with the force of his surprising humor.

That is when Harry knew Tom had saw right through his act, and he did not find it the slightest bit funny.

"Truly Potter, you may be a simpleton if you expect me to believe that your infatuation is anything other than absolute obsession with me. You cannot fake the bond between our magical cores, and you certainly cannot expect me to discontinue my search for the truth when you are so blatantly hiding it from me."

With that, Tom seemed to appear out of nothing in front of him, and Harry felt his chin grasped between long fingers.

"But sure, let us play your game. Sleep with whoever, claim to be something other than what you so definitely are, and I'll do the same. But you will come back, you'll always come back to me."

And with a kiss so quick that he questioned its' existence, Tom turned on his heel and left Harry alone.

Or, as alone as you can be with a heavily breathing teen unconscious in the same room.

"Fuck."

(O-O)

"But uncle-"

A Cruciatus leapt from his wand, silent but oh so loud in the form of his screaming nephew on the hard cellar floor. He relished in the dark waves emanating from the curse and its' recipient, remembering just how delightfully foul the magic reeked when being casted upon someone equally as dark.

And so he stopped shortly thereafter, not quite fond of wrecking valuable men.

"Mind your tongue. If you are as crafty this time around, perhaps you'll finish in time to see him after all."

The trembling form at his feet barely nodded his head, pale green eyes seeking forgiveness.

Ah, he was not a merciful man, but family

Family was a part of a whole that was known as the Greater Good.

So he bent his knees as he mussed the blonde strands before him, chuckling lightly.

"You'll do fine Rodd."

(O-O)

'Harry,

I apologize for my previous demands. Understand that I enjoy your passion for quidditch, as long as you are safe. Make wise choices, my son.

This Riddle character… I have heard of him. My curiosity as to why you push for him to be well received must be sated. Inform the Malfoy heir of Riddle's stay at their manor for Yule, and we shall see about the halfblood.

Enjoy the season of merry, and I will look forward to time with you over the holidays.

-G.

(O-O)

Harry, after a horrid encounter with Alphard Black, finally found himself back in the library.

It had been a week since Tom left him in that abandoned classroom, and the day finally came that Black questioned him. That bastard conveniently forgot to wipe Alphard's memories from before the event, so the Black's full body pain traced right back to him.

He explained it away with one sentence.

"You forced yourself onto me."

He almost laughed at the paling of his pointed face, and then he definitely laughed as the teen tripped while rushing away. There was something beautiful about the infamy of being a Dark Lord's heir, even without the cursing or commanding that he could do.

Harry shook the thoughts out of his head. He would solve this today, and nothing would distract him.

Nothing.

So that's how Harry Potter found himself waking at half past midnight, surrounded by a wall of book spines and his head resting on the insides of 'Magical Cores of the Ancients'.

How did Madame Gildorn, that unfortunate beast, not-

"Rise and shine Potter."

Harry shot out of his seat, heart running rampant as he found the owner of said heart in the darkness of a nearby bookshelf.

Seriously, there was a line between being romantic and being a stalker.

Hell, maybe they were the same thing?

"What are you doing here?" Harry whispered, running his hand through scruffy black hair.

His Tom stepped close and bent so that his mouth was on Harry's ear. "To laugh at your complete misdirection."

"Shhhsh!" Harry whispered, looking frantically from side to side. He would blush, but the beast... She could be anywhere! "You never know where that old bat is…"

Tom smirked. "Don't worry your pretty head, the Madame has been removed from the area."

Harry felt his eyes go wide, but he probably shouldn't be surprised. Yet, at the same time, the bat-like woman was one of his biggest fears, and he felt like worshiping Tom even more than usual for giving him a reprieve.

"Thank Merlin…"

The Ravenclaw glanced down.

How did Tom Riddle always corner him?

Suddenly, Harry felt his fit of shyness fade away as Tom's statement sank in.

"Misdirection? But…"

The Slytherin Heir flicked his hand, and with a wandless spell, a thin book came to the wizard. The spine was thin and short with a brown cloth lining the cover, making the book seem less academic and more private.

Wordlessly, Tom's magic coaxed the book open to a specific page, and the other teen thrust it into his hands.

At the top of the left page, underlined and in refined penmanship, said,

'Soul Bonds and How They Begin'