Disclaimer: I don't own them

Warnings: slash, dark, mental torture/manipulation, graphicnon-con

Chapter 6

It was only a short trip from the room Harry arrived in with his portkey to Voldemort's chambers. They were both on the second floor after all. Harry had never even seen the first floor, he wasn't allowed to.

Usually Harry's heart started hammering like a caged bird in his chest the second he entered Voldemort's bedroom. Usually his skin felt dirty and tried to crawl away from Voldemort's touch even through several layers of clothes.

Yet he felt neither as Voldemort carried him into the bedroom. Something was wrong, so very wrong and Harry suddenly wished his relatives had had more success in hiding him from the Wizarding World.

His mind still wandered in circles when Voldemort released him off his grip and set him on his feet again.

"You seem terribly tired, kitten. Why don't you take off your clothes and make yourself comfortable?" Voldemort hissed into his left ear.

Harry closed his eyes, trying to gather strength from somewhere to survive what was occurring with his mind and soul intact. He took a couple of deep breaths and then opened his black school robe with trembling fingers. He would not disobey and risk his attendance at Hogwarts. He would not break. And he would most certainly not cry.

As he took off his last remaining clothes and laid down on the bed, on his back, he wasn't so sure he would be able to keep that last promise to himself.

Voldemort smiled when his kitten finally laid down on the bed, his porcelain white skin highlighted by the blood red covers. His kitten was a vision of true beauty, looking like a fallen angel, his hair a black halo around his head.

Savouring the sight in front of him, Voldemort slowly walked to the bed and set down on his kitten's right side. He was still fully clothed, it was late afternoon and he had still work to do, later, much later. His smile widened, white teeth gleamed in the dimmed lights. His work could wait till ha had had a little fun with his kitten.

He delighted in the gasp that escaped his little kitten when he set his right index finger on the young man's chest.

"Tell me about your day, kitten. I find myself missing our conversations." He kept his hissing low and deep, intimate.

His finger drew an agonizingly slow line from his kitten's collarbone to a point just below his navel and back.

"C-c-classes were al-l-l-right, a-as usual." He loved it when he reduced his kitten to stutters. It was nearly as lovely as seeing his emerald eyes widen in shock.

"Hmm, that you do not sound very enthusiastic, kitten. If school bores you, we can always hire a tutor for you."

He started to draw complicated patterns around his kitten's navel, enjoying how his breathing hitched and a blush spread from his delicate cheekbones to his neck.

"N-n-no! I l-l-l-like g-g-going to s-school." his kitten's hissing grew lower and lower till it wasn't louder than the whispers of wind in the hallway.

Voldemort's other hand took hold of kitten's chin, his thumb rubbing over his kitten's dark red lips, revelling in the quick breathing his action induced.

"I'm glad that you enjoy school so much, kitten. I'm sure you'll find a way to show me your appreciation, too."

He leaned over, hissing the last sentence onto his kitten's lips before he captured them in a long, demanding kiss.

And he continued the kissing, stroking his kitten's trembling body with feather light touches over his chest, stomach and thighs, till a knock on the door informed him of his visitor's arrival.

After one final, devouring, possessive kiss he left.

Harry lay motionless on the bed. His mind was running in circles, his soul crying in despair. His heart was a heavy weight in his chest that got heavier with every breath he took.

"I will not cry. I will not cry. I will not cry. I will not cry. I will not cry." He whispered into the empty room.

He moved his right arm that seemed as heavy as the rest of his body and reached with trembling fingers for his lips; the very same lips that had been conquered mere moments ago.

Little tremors started in his arms and legs at the thought, quickly growing into violent shaking. Every breath he took was harder than the last one; he couldn't seem to get any air into his aching lungs at all.

He remembered the patterns that had been gently drawn around his navel and on his thighs and his stomach heaved.

He forced his shaking limbs to move and went into the bathroom, where he proceeded to empty his stomach of everything he had eaten that day.

When there didn't seem to be anything else to vomit he stood up, went to the sink and brushed his teeth.

Accidentally he caught a look of himself in the mirror. He didn't recognize the frightened face that looked back at him. There seemed to be no life left in his dark green eyes and his lips where raw and bleeding from the force he had used while brushing his teeth and washing his mouth.

When he saw moisture building up in his eyes he shut them forcefully, controlling his breathing till it was even again. His thoughts wandered back to what had transpired in the bedroom and he forced himself to accept some undesirable facts.

He was Voldemort's captive and toy. He could not disobey or he would lose what little freedom he still had. Voldemort obviously planned to use him as a boy-toy as well as pet. His first kiss had been stolen by his worst enemy. It wouldn't be the last first to be stolen either. And, yes, despite anything his mind had screamed at the action, his body had clearly enjoyed what had been done to it.

He knew that Voldemort was manipulating him and he wouldn't let him win. He would not be broken. He would survive and he would find a way to get his revenge.

Opening his eyes he looked directly into the mirror and hissed: "I am Harry James Potter and I will not be broken. I am the son of James and Lily Potter, godson of Sirius Black and I will not cry."

His voice was strong, uncompromising and determined. Every hissed word brought a new spark into his eyes.

The young man in the mirror that looked back at Harry had the look of a warrior of old and in his eyes burnt a fire that promised death to his enemies.

"Severus, please take a seat." Voldemort motioned his visitor to the chair in front of his desk while he took seat in the one behind it.

"I heard something curious today and hoped you could help me with it."

Severus tried to stay indifferent, but it was highly unusual of the Dark Lord to call any Hogwart's professor to his manor. Cold fear spread through his stomach and he had a suspicion what the Dark Lord wanted to talk about, which was proven by the next words.

"You kept young Potter behind after your lesson and had a very interesting talk with him. May I ask why exactly you felt the need to talk with him?"

There was no malice in the Dark Lord's voice, yet, but Severus knew that he was treading on very thin ice. There was a dangerous glint in those crimson eyes.

"I merely asked after his health, Milord. You ordered the staff to ensure his health after all and if I have to watch Mr. Potter more closely I wanted to know it now and not after the fact." Though there was no hint of emotion in Severus' smooth voice there were other visible signs of stress, like the pearls of sweat assembling on his forehead.

"How very thoughtful of you, Severus. See to it that indeed no harm comes to Mr. Potter at Hogwarts and I will keep overlooking such talks in the future. I don't think I have to remind you not to overstep your boundaries. You are dismissed."

Severus felt faint. It seemed the Dark Lord only wanted to let him know that he knew exactly what his captive did and said. The boundaries in regard to Potter had been made clear indeed and despitethe relief that flew through Severus at theeasy dismissal he felt pity for his pupil.

It was obvious now that the Dark Lord had plans for Potter,if the dark amusement in his crimson orbs every time the boy was mentioned was anything to be jugded by.

TBC

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