Chapter 5
Chapter Warnings: smoking, Dacryphilia, Chronophilia, Pedophilic intercourse, Biastrophilia
"Fire and Smoke"
-Castle Gardens -
Hayden
Hayden raised the cigarette to his lips and took a slow draw. He leaned back on the stone bench and stared up at the graying sky as he let the smoke out through his nose.
Amun Rortary. Only 18 and already set to be the next General. His family was deeply rooted in the Dark Arts, both his parents known for their dark magic and high status. If there was one person who would not betray the Emperor, it would be the Matlal.
A dark smile crept up on the gardener's tan face.
'We'll just have to change that.'
-Emperor's Castle-
Matlal
Amun was frantically running down the hallways. He had already crashed into quite a few guards and had had one too many run ins with the Crabbe girls
Why? Because Matlal had lost the boy again.
He was really starting to wonder if the four year old was doing it on purpose just to give him early graying, because this was the fifth time in two days that the brat had disappeared on him.
He could just imagine the face the Emperor would give him if he came looking for the boy only to find that Matlal had misplaced him somewhere in the castle.
Oh Merlin, he hoped the boy was still in the castle.
Matlal came skidding, rather ungracefully, into the throne room when he saw wisp of smoke rising from under the doorway.
'Shit, please don't tell me…'
Matlal felt bile rise in his throat as he saw the boy standing in the burning room when he pulled open the door.
'Of all the motherfucking places he could end up in, it just had to be the place on fire.' He thought bitterly as he raced into the room and practically threw the kid over his shoulder.
A swarm of guards raced past him as he ran out of the room and into the hallway.
This kid either had some serious pyromania problems or he had an affinity for fire because this was the second time Matlal had found him in a burning area.
A swore to Merlin this kid would get him killed one way or another.
-Rebel Movement Underground Headquarters-
Reilly
Reilly stared in shock at the letter on her desk.
This wasn't the first time a member had brought in an old family relic from the depths of their vaults, but this was the first time that the relic actually offered something worthwhile.
She looked back up at the man who had brought it to her.
Coy Lestrange worked as a castle guard but had been part of the Rebels for many years. He didn't speak much from Reilly's experiences with him, and he acted as more of a watchman for fellow Rebels in the castle walls than an actual spy.
So it was with a sort of curious frown that Reilly had opened the letter. She didn't know what she expected, but it definitely wasn't what she received.
The letter was old. Very old. The date inside stated that it was written some time before the Dark Order even began.
It was written as a diary entry rather than an actual letter and something told Reilly that it probably was a diary seeing as the letter was addressed to no one in particular.
The person who had written it was either really distressed or insane. Possibly both.
The letter was a scrabble of half finished sentences and jerky words. But from what Reilly could make out of it, the letter was cursing the goblin bank and calling it "unsafe" and the goblins "untrustworthy" (which Reilly highly doubted because the bank had been used for centuries and nothing had ever been stolen or misplaced). Reilly would have just ignored the letter if it wasn't for one thing that caught her eye.
The writer of the letter had stopped cursing the bank towards the end, and instead started cursing "the Potter brat" for stealing "the cup" that their master had given to them due to "their loyalty" for safe keeping.
Reilly had never heard of the Potter Family and she had certainly never heard of anyone breaking into Gringotts.
She looked back up at the Lestrange and gave him a piercing look.
"I want you to go back to your vault and look for anything pertaining to the Potter Family or a lost cup." Lestrange nodded and left.
Reilly leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes.
She would have to have all of the Rebel members go through their family vaults for any mention of this "Potter brat" that had apparently stolen from the most secure Wizarding bank in the world and gotten away with it.
There was no absolute way to be sure that the writer's mad words had any weight to them, but Reilly was getting desperate the more days that passed with no new news.
-Castle Gardens-
Matlal
Matlal leaned against the tree at the edge of the garden. The sky was a dark shade of gray and the air had the heavy scent of rain.
Matlal closed his eyes and rested the back of his head on the bark of the tree. He contemplated going inside but thought better of it when he remembered the series of burnt frames around the hallways. He had given up on watching the child after the incident in the throne room and instead had thrown the boy at his father and fled the castle.
Not his best moment, but he was a bit desperate.
He took a deep breath of the moist air before his eyes flew open and he bend double as he attempted to hack up his lungs.
He felt a large hand fall on his back.
"Can't handle a bit of smoke, can you?"
Matlal straightened his posture and fixed a glare at the man.
Hayden smirked around the cigarette in his mouth and Matlal took a further step back when he realized who the other man was. He blinked up at the man before he came back to his senses and snatched the fag from his mouth.
Hayden just gave him a look before pulling out another stick and placing the unlit smoke in his mouth while continuing eye contact with the shorter man.
"Alright, no smoking." He gave Matlal a lop-sided grin, which the other man did not return.
"What are you doing in the gardens anyway? Shouldn't you be pampering the king?" Matlal stared at the other man in shock, his mouth hanging open and his eyes wide.
He then commenced sputtering at the taller man for five minutes, before finally seeming to gain his bearings again.
The other man didn't seem to mind watching the other struggle and instead continued leaning against the tree and watching in amusement as the shorter man flail about.
"I wonder if you are as feisty in bed aas you are out here." Matlal once again seemed to freeze in shock and turned a startling shade of bright red before he pivoted and stalking away back towards the castle.
Hayden watched Matlal's retreating back before bringing his wand up to light his cigarette.
'Well, I think that went well.' He mused to himself as he took a long pull on his fag. 'Yes, it went very well indeed.'
-Emperor's Castle-
Armand
Armand held the candle in his hands up higher and brought his sleeping son closer to his chest.
He would much rather be sleeping in bed then walking down the dark corridor back to his son's room, but Abelina refused to sleep near the boy. He really wanted to just kick her out of his bed and let his son sleep with him, but he knew it was best just to take Vincens back to his own sleeping quarters than fight his wife.
Armand once again raised his candle as he searched for the correct hall to turn down. He passed by quite a few portraits, most of whom glared spitefully at him for waking them, but the occasional painting of the mystery boy would pop up, blackened and ruined.
They were easier to see because they stood out so much. Unlike the other paintings, it was unmoving. It was more than just a little unsettling. Armand had never seen a still portrait other than the boy's, it was unheard of.
Thinking still of its oddness, Armand stopped as he came upon one of the boy's ruined paintings. Its face had been scorched off and the frame was blackened with soot.
Armand took a step towards it and tilted his head curiously. There were a lot of fires recently in the castle. They weren't sure what was causing them, but Armand thought it strange that the only things being set on fire was the boy's portraits. Even the large one in the throne room hadn't been spared.
"It's quite sad. He had such a beautiful face." Armand jumped back in shock and turned towards his lord. "To be ruined like this is truly a tragedy. He wouldn't have minded, of course. In fact, he would probably have preferred it; he didn't like attention."
Armand didn't know how to reply to that, so he just nodded his head furiously.
"You look tired." The Dark Lord commented before reaching his arms out to the other man. "Let me take him to bed."
Armand forgot for a moment just whom he was talking to and gripped his son closer to him, tilting his body away. He stopped when he realized what he was doing and turned back towards the taller man. He looked down at his son and carefully handed his sleeping body over to the Dark Lord.
The Emperor cradled Vincens in his arms and directed his entire attention to the boy.
The Emperor had already turned and started walking away by the time Armand actually started moving back towards his room.
-Emperor's Chambers-
Voldemort
Voldemort couldn't help but to compare them.
Laid out on the bed, side by side, they looked almost too alike.
Both of their faces were slacked in unconsciousness. Both had unruly, black hair. Both had pale skin. Both had pink lips. Both had slightly flushed cheeks. Both had small hands and small waists and small feet and small limbs and small faces and…
Yes. Side by side they looked startling alike.
But…
Was that all?
Voldemort couldn't help but to wonder if they had the same temper. The same scowl. The same voice. The same infuriating habit of escaping his grasp. The same soul.
Yes. Voldemort wondered if this child had Harry's soul.
His soul.
He reached out and ran a long finger down the boy's soft cheek.
So soft. He had forgotten how tender children's flesh were. How utterly delectable they could be. Especially when they cried.
He leaned forward and licked a line down the boy's cheek, stopping at his lips. He brushed his tongue against them and lapped at the boy's pink petals.
Vincens stirred slightly, his small hands coming up to push lightly against the grown man's chest. Voldemort grabbed onto one of the boys hands and leaned back from where he was crouched over the other's body. Vincens moved his free fist to rub at his eye as he slowly came back into consciousness.
It took his a second to realize that he didn't really know the man above him and he tried to yank his arm out of the other's grasp.
Voldemort let him and straightened up, watching as the boy scurried back on the occupied bed and cower against the headboard.
The boy didn't say anything and just stared frightfully at the much larger man.
Voldemort tilted his head to the side and wondered momentarily if the boy was mute, as he had never actually heard the boy say anything.
He dismissed the thought as unimportant and flicked his wrist, divesting the boy of his garments.
Vincens gave a fearful yelp and moved to pull the bedding up to cover his body. His eyes were wide in terror and confusion as he watched Voldemort climb onto the bed towards him. He tried futility to get closer to the headboard, his small fingernails scratching at the dark wood.
The boy's eyes flickered from the approaching man to the edge of the bed, but before his four year old mind could fully decide on what to do, the older man had already gripped his ankle and pulled him towards him.
Vincens tried to twist out of Voldemort's grasp, but he couldn't and he was left clutching at the surrounding sheets and twisting about as the older man's lips started kissing at his back and sides.
Voldemort watch as the boy tried to squirm away and licked up his spine, nipping on his shoulder blades as he passed over them.
He gripped the back of the boy's hair and fitted his lips onto the soft neck that was displayed in front of him.
The boy tried to lash out, his nails reaching back to claw at Voldemort's face and neck and Voldemort was forced to pin the boy's arms together with one of his hands.
He leaned back up and ran his free hand down the boy's side. When he reached the boy's hips, he slipped under the boy's body and fondled his small penis.
Vincens jumped in surprise and renewed his attempts to get free. He struggled against the other man and gave a gasping sob in frustration as he was once again unable to do more than twist about underneath the larger man.
Voldemort stopped momentarily to retrieve his wand and cast a binding and sticking charm on the boy's hands.
He leaned back again and caressed and massaged the boy's buttocks. Vincens snapped his legs together and leaned forward; bringing his knees to his chest and attempting to curl into a ball, but Voldemort yanked the boy's legs back into their spread position.
He cast another charm on the boy's legs to keep them apart.
Voldemort spread Vincens' cheeks and rubbed his thumb across the boy's opening.
Vincens tried to squirm away again, but he was stuck in place and he started to sob in fear and confusion.
Voldemort leaned over the boy's body and lapped at his tears. He used one hand to free his erection and pressed the head of his cock to the small hole.
Vincens sobs stuttered at the unfamiliar feeling and Voldemort pressed through the ring of muscles forcefully.
Vincens gave a shriek of agony as his channel was torn apart at the rough and unprepared entrance. He gave a shudder and his eyes rolled into the back of his head as he passed out at the pain radiating from his bottom and spine.
Voldemort started thrusting into the pliant body; the boy's entrance slickened by the blood. He pushed down on the child's shoulders and twisted one of the boy's hips, plowing harder down.
Voldemort gripped the boy's hair again and used it to bring the boy up so he could wrap his arm around the boy's stomach. He used the new angle to start pounding into the child faster and he gave a muted groan as he felt his climax near.
He released the charms on the boy and flipped his over. He pushed the boy's legs into his chest and went deeper and harder and faster as he started to near the end.
Finally, his thrust stuttered to a halt as he came inside the boy.
He pulled out after a minute of panting against the boy's skin and flopped down on the bed between the two bodies.
He lay there a moment before reaching out and wrapping one arm around Vincens and the other around Hostem and pulling both of the boys closer towards him.
He pulled the unconscious teen until he was almost completely draped across his chest, and buried his nose and lips in the teen's hair. He closed his eyes and inhaled the boys scent deeply before pulling back and staring down at him with an unreadable expression.
"I truly do hate you, Harry."