Alright, this is not my first story, but it's only my second ever posting on here. MAJOR WARNING, so listen up:

DARK!HARRY Dumbledore!BASHING
HOT AND STEAMY SLASH, OR GUYXGUY
VOLDEMORT/HARRY

If you have problems with any of these, are too young or immature to read this, then, I'm sorry, go away.

Disclaimer: I do not own this, or any of the characters. And even though I do, in fact, own these books, I do not own the rights to any of them.

So go bother J K Rowling for making this pairing so scrumptious if you got a problem with it.

A/N: Alright, not much to say here (: Tired, hyped up on coffee. Enjoy, let me know what you think. Thank you to all my reviewers, as you are what gets me through the days and most especially the nights.

"Like this, my Prince." Lucius' hand touched the boy carefully and quickly, as though afraid any exceedingly strong or extended contact would have the Dark Lord descend upon his head, as Harry noted. The teen did not know that the man was right in doing so. Voldemort would, without a doubt, injure the eldest Malfoy if either of the things occured. He understood that certain injuries were going to be present, because of the training he was enduring. However, there wasn't an excuse for some things.

Straightening his back, the teen took a deep breath, closing his eyes as the man had previously instructed. Lucius (as he was instructed to call him) was his teacher in body strength. They, as wizards, had no concept of Kung Fu, or other martial arts, but Harry found it very similar to a lot of things he had seen on Dudley's games and movies, if not as exaggerated. "Clear your mind," the man commanded, and the green eyed teen was reminded of Severus' previous disasterous lessons of Occlumency at Hogwarts.

He shuddered to himself, then cleared his mind.

Walking around the teen, he eyed the teen's form, trying not to take not of the seemingly perfect dips and curves of his youthful muscles. "Relax." The teen did, rolling his shoulders back. "Listen to the sound of my voice." The voice was behind him now, and he took note of that. Closing his eyes around the man made him nervous, and though he knew the man wouldn't do anything, as Tom was not even 30 feet away, he couldn't help but be anxious.

They were in a large room, empty of everything except Lucius, Harry, Voldemort, and the chair he sat on. The youngest stood in the middle of the room, eyes closed, shoulders rolled back and head high. Even though Lucius had just told him to relax, his posture held tight, every muscle in his body tensed. Seeing it, the man repeated himself, his voice more exasperated this time, "Relax, my Prince. You must."

The teen's shoulders rolled forward, and he took a few steps, clenching his hands in his hair and opening his eyes. "I can't do this," he stated, walking away from the man, turning to face him again. "I can't."

A tic worked in the blonde's jaw and he said in a carefully controlled voice, "My Prince, we must. This is only the first step, but it's crucial."

He shook his head, "I can't have you behind me while I've got my eyes closed. I simply can't." He licked his lips and glanced over at Tom, who had yet to say anything. "I don't trust you."

Jaw clenching, the man carefully watched his words and tone, not eager to infuriate his Prince nor his Lord. "My Prince, if there is one thing I can swear to you, it is that I will bring you no harm. I understand that we have had our dealings in the past, but you are my Prince now. You are on our side, under my Lord's protection, and, therefore, under mine as well. I shall not let any harm come to you, not while I am around." The teen stopped and looked at him blankly, as though surprised at his words.

"While I will not allow harm to come to you while I am around, there will be times when the Prince is alone. Therefore, you will need to learn how to protect yourself, and a strong body mirrors a strong mind. There will be times when you will need to rely on body strength, among others things, besides simply magic."

The words surprised Harry. He always believed that Lucius saw that the solution to every problem was magic, as he was so proud of his Pureblood heritage that the teen was sure if there was a badge for such, he would keep it pinned on his lapel. Glancing over at Tom, who did not move or say anything. Turning back to his instructor, he nodded, dropping his head to look at the ground. He moved forward, standing where he had previously been positioned. "Here?" he asked, looking over at the man, who nodded in return.

"Seeing as you aren't comfortable with me behind you yet, let's just work on your balance." He moved to stand in front of the teen, looking into his eyes. Swallowing the saliva in his mouth, the teen forced himself to stay still and not back away from the eyes that he had trained himself throughout his life to hate. "Stand with your feet a shoulders width apart. Hold your hands in front of you, elbows bent, palms facing me." He assumed the same stance he had just told Harry to take, watching him as he assumed it, making minor adjustments.

Peering in from the hallway, Severus stood quietly outside of the door, as he had not been invited in yet was curious about Harry's development, and (slightly) concerned for his safety. While he trusted Lucius on his own behalf, he knew that the man did not care for the teen. He could not say anything set about his Lord, however; he had no right to make any assumptions nor any reasoning to think that the man wanted any harm to come to the teen, especially with how he was acting towards him.

Still, Harry was Lily's son. He might have failed her, but he felt redemption was within his grasp if he kept her son out of harm.

Then, the man's dark eyes found Lucius. He licked his lips at the sight of the man, who had his long blonde hair pulled back into a tight low ponytail (as he always did when he was getting hands on). He had abandoned his overcoat, rolling up the sleeves of his white button up to his elbows, leaving his shoes and socks on the sidelines along with his notorious cane. There stood one of the sexiest men Severus had ever seen in his life, his shoulders back, head high, the confidence flowing through his veins as surely as the aristocratic blood that pumped through them as well.

As though feeling his eyes upon him, the aristocrat looked up from peering down at Harry to meet Severus' gaze. When their eyes met, the Potion's Master felt a shock of electricity go through him. Pressing his lips together, he forced himself to look away, to make it seem as though he was just peeking in as he walked by. He most certainly did not want Lucius, his best friend, to realize that he had been checking him out. Almost immediately, he felt as though he was betraying his love of Lily, if only by looking at him.

Shaking his head, he walked away. He was sure now that Lucius would not harm the boy, seeing how their Dark Lord Voldemort looked at him. However, he wasn't at all sure he could say the same for Bellatrix.

"Balance is the key." The man reached forward and pushed on his hands, making the teen wobble a step backwards. "Balance," he murmured again, as the teen reassumed his position. Again he pushed on the teen's hands, and again he wobbled backwards. Moving forward again, he steeled his resolve. The next time the hands pushed against his hands, he only leaned backwards. He grinned triumphantly, only to be shot down when the man's hands returned, and pulled his hands instead of pushing them, making him wobble forwards.

"Balance," he repeated with a smirk, his grey eyes twinkling.

Harry scowled at the man, then made a face at him. Tilting his head back, the man laughed, a refreshing sound; it wasn't the condescending chuckle the teen was used to coming out of the man. Relaxing a little, the boy allowed himself a smile at the sound, and (as we all know, laughter is contagious) began laughing himself, taking a step away from the man as he did. Wrapping his arms around his stomach, the boy began laughing louder, the sound bubbling from within him.

It had been so very long since he had had a good, refreshing laugh. It permeated throughout his entire being, chasing every ounce of sickness, harm, or ill being from his body. Happiness filled him, and he found himself gasping for air while laughing, unable to stop. Tears rolled down his face, and while the initial action that had him laughing had not been that funny, now that he was laughing he couldn't find it in himself to stop.

Finally, after nearly 5 whole minutes of laughing, he was able to calm himself. Standing up straight, he smiled brightly at Lucius, who chuckled at him. "Well, are you alright now, my Prince?" His smile turned into a lopsided grin and he gave another little laugh.

"Yeah, I'm fine." He stood back in the position he had been in before, holding his hands up and peering into the grey eyes that did not seem nearly as menacing, a light smirk splayed across the man's face.

"Balance," he repeated, and pushed on Harry's hands.

Severus looked at the boy who sat across from him, legs folded 'Indian style' on the loveseat he sat on. Lily's green eyes blinked up at him, curious yet untrusting, the very first look he had ever received from the boy's mother. He had stacked quite a few books on the coffee table in between them, and was standing between the two arm chairs in the library. Voldemort sat beside Harry, his Prince, and had instructed him to teach as though he was not there. He was merely there as an observer, to make sure that Severus treated his serpent correctly.

Waiting long enough for the two to get comfortable, the Potion's Master cleared his throat before beginning. "Well, as you are aware, Lucius will be training you robdy, and Bella will be training your skills in the field of magic. As they will be covering those areas of your training, I will be training your mind."

Instantly he saw the teen stiffen, drawing back away from him. He undoubtably was thinking of their disasterous lessons the year before at Hogwarts. So, he immediately began to repair the situation, before his Lord stepped in and did something that he did not want him to. "Now, seeing as you have the Mark of Ouroboros on your neck, you need not worry about Legilimency." He saw the confused look on the teen's face, and decided to elaborate.

"The Mark of Ouroboros, when placed on the neck, prevents people from coming unbidden into one's mind. As the one who placed it there, the Dark Lord Voldemort is the one decides who he trusts enough to allow into your mind." He gestured to the man sitting beside the teen. Harry, following his hand, turned his gaze upon the man, unsure of what to think of him controlling who could get into his mind.

"You aren't the best judge of character, Harry." The man explained his actions, tucking a strand of long hair behind the boy's ear. Resisting leaning into the touch, the teen replied,

"We will discuss this more, later." The man dipped his head in consent, agreeing. Turning his green eyes back on the man, the Potion's Master was once again struck by how similar his eyes were to his dead mother's.

Looking away, he settled his gaze on the books he had set out. "Since that aspect of your mental stability is taken care of, we are going to round out your knowledge. There are things that are not taught at Hogwarts that you need to know, things that are looked over, not spent enough time on. Other than reading and gathering knowledge, this... class, if you wish to call it that, is for everything else. Anything and everything that you wish to learn, or are curious about, will be taught by me. So, if you have any questions or are curious about anything, do not hesitate to ask."

Nodding, the teen looked at the stack of books on the table, taking note of their titles for the first time. He noticed that a number of them were titles he had taken note of previously, and the ones he did not recognize certainly drew his attention. Picking the first book up of the top of the stack, the man leaned forward and handed it to him. Bringing the thick tome into his lap, he skimmed his fingers across the title that was scribed in gold leaf, Infinity, remembering it from earlier that day.

Looking up, he found that the man had already sat down in one of the armchairs, his nose buried in an old looking tome titled Potion Brewing for Masters. Glancing over at the man beside him, he unfolded his legs and found that he and Tom were on the same thought wave, as usual. Moving to press his back against the arm rest, the man drew Harry into his lap, wrapping his arms around him and pushing the teen's back to his chest. Shifting, the green eyed male settled comfortably in between the male's legs, resting his head back as he opened the book.

This lesson is a nice break from Lucius', he remarked to himself, relaxing into the feel of Tom's arms wrapped around him. Yes, a very nice break...

"Well, my Prince, for our lesson, we have to go on a little field trip first," Bellatrix's, or Bella, as he was told to call her, voice sent his nerves to edge. He didn't like her voice, didn't like what she said, didn't like the way she looked at him, and most definitely did not like the way she looked at his Tom. Pressing his lips together, he glanced over at the man, who did not show any surprise at the declaration. However, that did nothing to calm his nerves.

"For what?" he questioned, wary of the female. She quirked an eyebrow over her heavyset eyes, placing a hand on her hip.

"That doesn't matter."

His jaw set, and he felt Tom's eyes on him, gauging his reaction. He felt as though it was a test, her denying him what he had asked. He glanced over at the man again, but his expression lent no help on what he wanted him to do. The teen didn't know if the man wanted him to back down from the fight that was bound to happen if he continued to push the subject, or to assert his dominance over them, because, as he had been reminded, he was above them.

All in all, it made his head hurt. Merlin... I hate women... He heard Tom's responding chuckle and glared over at him, but the man said nothing. Looking back at the woman in front of him, he felt anger bubbling in his chest at the defiant look on her face. Holding his head higher, he folded his arms, "Why are we going on a 'field trip' and what for?" He could have slapped her across her face for the look she gave him back.

"That. Doesn't. Matter." His fists balled, anger boiling in his chest at the woman's response. Clenching his jaw, he felt that backing down was not what Tom wanted him to do. Good, because I'm not. The man had always got onto him for not being assertive enough, telling him he was far better than obeying people's every command.

His emerald eyes sparking in anger, he drew his head higher, rolling his shoulders back slightly as he saw Tom always do when giving an order. "I asked you a question. You will answer your Prince, or be punished for disobeying," he mimicked the tone that Tom always used, but felt as though he had fallen flat.

Bella made eye contact with her Lord, silently communicating with facial expressions alone. She gave a laugh, her icy demeanor melting in a second as she looked back at the boy. "That was a good start. We'll work on that later." Blinking, the teen looked up at Tom, who stood still with a smirk.

At the feel of the boy's gaze on him, the man chuckling, looking down at him and resting a hand on his back assuringly. "I simply wanted to see what you would do if faced with disobedience from your subordinates." Pressing his lips together, the teen gave him a weak glare. "We will have to work on that. You aren't very convincing." The words were said with a gentle expression, and a teasing tone.

Sticking his tongue out at the man, he looked back over at the woman who stood before them. "Well? You never answered my question."

A malicious grin spread across her face, and the woman said in her raspy voice, "Why, you're going to need something to practice on. I'm your instructor, and unless the Lord suddenly steps forward and offers himself, you have no target."

Green eyes narrowing, he asked, "Target for what?"

Her grin spread across her face, her insanity sparking in her eyes, "Curses of course." She tilted her head back, laughing lightly, "You aren't going to be the Prince of the Dark and not know how to curse somebody."

Eyebrows knitting, the boy looked between Tom and Bella. "Well, don't you just point and curse them?" This brought a laugh from both of them, and he felt his cheeks darkening in embarrassment. "What?" he demanded, his embarrassment making him angry.

"There is much more to cursing someone than simply saying the incantation," Tom said, chuckling at him while gently chafing up and down his back. "Don't worry, that's what Bella is here for." He turned his gaze on the woman, who was filled with warmth at the sight of his eyes upon her. "She is the best we have."

Harry looked back and forth between the two, jealousy growling in his chest at the sight of their extended eye contact. He tried to tell himself that he was simply overreacting, but he saw how Bella looked at Tom. Turning, he reached up and snagged the man from behind his neck, pulling him down swiftly and claiming his lips in a searing kiss. Moaning deep in his throat, the man returned the kiss, all thought of the woman chased from his mind at the feel of his serpent pushed against him.

Wrapping his arms tightly around the teen, he secured them together, ensuring that he could not pull away until he had stolen his breath. While it had not worked out quite how he had planned it, Harry had got his point across. Tom was his. No one else's, ever again.

After the man allowed Harry to pull away, Bella cleared her throat, getting his attention. Pushing through his muddled mind, he turned and faced the woman, cheeks flushed from the intensity of the kiss. "Are you ready, my Prince?" He glanced up at Tom, who nodded encouragingly, then turned back to her, nodding as well, more to himself than to her.

"Yeah, I'm ready."

She grinned, her dark eyes sparking, "Good."

"Pick one," the words were spoken as though Harry was choosing a puppy to take home, nurture and care for, not as though he was choosing a human to torture then slaughter. They were walking down a street in the middle of Muggle London, Muggle Shopping, as Bella liked to call it. People were bustling around them, no one taking notice of the boy who wanted to vanish, or the woman that seemed to be itching to kill something.

"Um... do I have to?" After all, they were simply Muggles going about their ignorant Muggle lives. They had never done anything to him.

"If you don't choose it, I'm going to," the woman said, eyeing a child laughing on the other side of the street. Seeing who she was eyeing, the boy deciding that he would choose his 'victim'. "Don't think of it as a victim," Bella called over her shoulder at him, knowing very well he had yet to develop the nerve for it. "Think of it as nothing more than a target."

He swallowed the last bit of moisture in his mouth, glancing around himself. He didn't like being around so many bustling people; they kept bumping into him, it was too loud, there were simply too many people. He wanted to run away from them, and hide back in Tom's manor, where he knew he was safe from the harm of those that were out for his blood. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a hand rest on his shoulder. Spinning around, his hand went to his wand, but he didn't react fast enough, because Tom had already grabbed both of his wrists.

Upon seeing who it was, the teen relaxed, the tense leaving his body in a breath. Leaning forward, he rested his head on the man's chest. "I... I can't do this, Tom. They haven't done anything to me." Tom found he was simply too soft hearted at times.

Running his fingers through his hair, the man leaned down and whispered into his ear, "Never did anything to you? My dearest serpent, their existence is doing something to you." The teen looked up at him, unsure of what he meant, and, honestly, unwilling to believe him. He knew how Tom viewed Muggles, and he honestly didn't see them as all that bad. That was something the the man was aware of, as well.

"Their ignorance of us drives us into hiding. For hundreds upon hundreds of years, they have persecuted us, killing us by the hundreds. They scowl at our kind, fearful of anything that is not them, not normal." He looked down at the teen, making eyes contact. "You of all people know what Muggles are capable of when confronted with something out of the norm." Using their mental connection, he forced the teen to relive the abuse he had suffered from the hands of his uncle and aunt.

"And those are the Muggles that call you family. Imagine what the Muggles who aren't related to you would do." Anger began to boil in the teen's chest, as in the man; from their connection, Harry could feel his anger, and was being affected by it as well. "Those Muggles have no concept of anything in this world. They lead meaningless lives, throughout all of their meaningless years. Then they dare to say that we are what needs to be eradicated from this world. Now they're ignorant to our very existence.

"Don't you find it wrong that we are the ones, us, the superior race, are the ones that must hide ourselves? I believe so." His words made sense in the teen's head, and he felt anger clouding his judgement, but didn't care. The Muggles had no right to do as they did. His family had no right, his uncle, his aunt, his cousin... None of them. They did not respect or fear him, when he was far stronger than they could ever hope to be.

Far more meaningful too.

Tom withdrew himself from the teen, disappearing back into the crowd of people that surrounded him. He was overcome by how loud they were, their meaningless conversations, in their meaningless lives. A woman pushed past him, ramming her shoulder into his while talking on a cellular device. She did not look back, did not apologize. As a matter of fact, she scowled at him as she kept walking.

Bile rose to the back of his throat at the sight of her. Fake hair, fake lashes, fake nails... Fake, fake, fake, fake, fake. Growling, he knew he had found his target. Raising a hand, he pointed. "Her."

Upon arriving back at the manor, Bellatrix walked past the two men. "We'll finish this lesson tomorrow," she called over her shoulder, dragging the unconscious female behind her by her hair as though she weighed nothing more than a feather. Blinking over at her, Harry looked up at the man questioningly, silently asking if she could do that. The man did not argue, so the teen said nothing, allowing the woman to walk off. "Ta!" she waved over her shoulder, walking down a different hallway and into a room where she was going to lock her up.

Entwining their fingers, the man led them away to their room. Closing his eyes, the teen rested his head against the man's arm while they walked. He was exhausted. While the Mark on his neck had taken away the pain he felt in his body from the exertion of the day, it could not chase away his exhaustion. His other arm reached across him and wrapped around the man's arm, securing him to it.

The man glanced down to see the boy's head drooping while they walked. Allowing a light smile to dart across his face, he stopped. "Oh, my little serpent, what am I to do with you?" he murmured the words against the boy's brow, but the teen gave no response; asleep on his feet. Bending down, he scooped him up bridal style, cradling his head to his chest. As he walked, he kept his crimson gaze trained on the younger's pale face.

"You truly do need a haircut, love..." even he heard the softness in his voice, but found with surprise that the last word slipped out. Pressing his lips together, he looked back in front of him, unwilling to think the word, though he had just said it. Calling someone the word and saying it to them are two completely different things, he assured himself. Shifting the boy in his arms, he whispered a spell to open their door, turning sideways to walk in without hitting the boy on the doorframe.

Walking across their large shared room, he laid his serpent on the bed, on top of the sheets. Reaching down, he began to pull off his shoes, slowly stripping Harry of his clothing. He left the boy's underwear on, but stripped him of every other stitch. Standing at the foot of the bed, he had to take a moment to appreciate the beauty of the teen in his bed. His skin was an almost unearthly pale, near translucent in some places. He knew he himself was not the tannest person in the world, and could probably benefit from a regular dose of Vitamin D, but he had nothing on the teen.

Funny thing was, he loved how pale his serpent was. Especially in contrast to his dark, too long hair that was so softer than the finest silk Tom could find in the entire world. His eyes, an erethral green, seemed to taunt him, and draw him closer; the same color as the curse that nearly cost him his life all those many years ago. He found it ironic, that the very spell that should have been the death of the boy, was nearly the death of himself, and bound them together for eternity was reflected back in the boy's eyes.

Stripping himself of clothing, he deposited all of his and his serpent's discarded clothing in the hamper, where it was supposed to go. Walking back, he quickly covered he and the boy up with the thick comforter, as the nippy air was quickly setting a chill to his skin, clad only in boxers as he was. No sooner had he closed his eyes than the boy turned and snuggled into his chest, cuddling closer to him. He bit his lip, but couldn't find it in himself to push the boy away, despite the fact that Dark Lords did not cuddle.

Heaving a sigh, he combed his fingers through the boy's long tresses of hair. I suppose, he thought to himself, that, seeing as Harry has been so many exceptions in my life already, one more would not hurt. With that thought in mind, the man eased himself to sleep, ignoring the painfully obvious reason as to why he allowed the boy to be so many exceptions in his life.

A/N: So, what did y'all think? Questions, comments, or concerns, just review/message me! (: Oh, BTW, I listen to My Chemical Romance (only) while I type this story. Do y'all have a certain band or album you listen to while typing, or does everything flow with y'all? Just curious! (: