A/N: I am so very sorry for the awfully long wait! I was stuck in exams until last week, and if I wanted any chance to pass them I had to study. A lot.

I'm using another story in this chapter, but in order to not spoil the surprise (quite a few of you might know it), I'll put the proper disclaimer at the bottom. As always; I don't own anything.

For the sake of my own sanity, I refuse to believe that it was me who came up with this idea. So Tharl, I'm blaming this mess on your review from chapter 19 xD. How your perfectly sane question evolved into this madness I do not know^^.

Don't take the italic parts too seriously, they are clichéd on purpose ;P.

Thanks a ton for all of your reviews! Enjoy! :)

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Chapter 25

Harry tried to think happy thoughts on his way back to the dungeons. He had heard this would help in such situations, but felt inclined to disagree.

He hadn't talked to Ginny, even though he suspected she was the answer to many of his questions. But he couldn't just randomly start to question her, besides, if Draco was right then she generally didn't speak anyways.

She didn't strike him as an acute danger, but now he was paranoid that the twins would jump out of every corner. And he was really worried they might shoot him before he could ask them a few crucial questions.

He sighed and pulled himself out of his musing, focusing on his present predicament.

He stood in front of Riddle's study, trying to summon enough courage to knock. He suddenly wasn't so eager to get this command over with. It wouldn't be so bad if Riddle had at least told him what to expect.

Well, on the bright side he had been summoned to the study and not some torture chamber. But even so Harry wasn't sure if that was really a good thing.

"I can see your shadow on the floor Harry. No need to be so nervous."

Oh great, now Riddle could additionally tease him for being a coward. As if the man didn't already have enough ammunition.

With another sigh, Harry entered the study.

Riddle sat in his customary arm chair by the fireplace, a pleased smirk already on his lips. And Harry hadn't even done anything yet!

He stood stiffly by the door, checking the room for signs of Nagini. Luckily for him she was nowhere to be found. Or maybe not so lucky, for that meant he was truly and utterly alone with Riddle.

"Why hello child, a wonderful evening to you."

Harry didn't even try to keep his jaw from dropping. Oh this wasn't good, not good at all. The lord was terrifying when angry, but in a good mood? That was a whole new level. He wished he could be anywhere but here.

"Last time you said something like that, I ended up getting drugged, bound and almost killed by Dumbledore," muttered Harry.

"Oh no, I wouldn't kill you Harry. No drugs or Dumbledore either."

Harry noted dully that he had left 'bound' out of the list. Judging from Riddle's smirk, it was intentional.

"So…What then?" he asked warily.

Riddle gestured to a staple of books on the small table in front of him. "You will read," he proclaimed.

"Huh? I-I mean, sorry what?!"

The pleased smirk never left Riddle's face and Harry knew he must have heard wrongly.

"Well, I told you we need to work on your lack of perception in certain, ah, aspects of life. Consider this your education."

Harry stared at the books incredulously. "That's all? I'll just…take them with me and read them?"

Riddle chuckled. "Oh no. I only said you will read them. I haven't quite told you the other…requirements of your task. Please, take a seat."

Please?! Harry didn't dare get his hopes up. The lord was never this polite, or in such a good mood. He sat down rigidly and waited.

Riddle poured himself a drink before continuing. "Hogwarts was a mixed boarding school you see. In such places you are bound to find rather…interesting books in the library." He threw Harry a pointed look, who had obviously no clue what the hell he was talking about.

"Bella found these a few months ago. I didn't have the pleasure to read them yet, but she took great joy in quoting certain passages at inappropriate times."

Harry held up a hand. "Wait a sec, Bellatrix? She…she reads?"

"Not usually, no."

Harr glanced at the books again, expecting them to explode or attack him or do something instead of lying there so innocently.

"Are those detailed description of torture methods? Because I could see her liking those…"

"No, it is fiction."

"Fiction?" echoed Harry baffled. How could fiction be educational?

"So as I told you, you will read them, here…and out loud."

Harry couldn't help it, he laughed. "You want me to read you a bedtime story?"

"I trust it will be entertaining enough to keep me awake."

"Um, okay…Not what I expected, but sure…"

Harry leaned forward to grab the first book, but Riddle stopped him. "There is one more thing you'll need to do while reading it."

Riddle grabbed the book instead and randomly skimmed through the pages. "Ah yes, you will say 'Harry' every time you read 'Geoffrey' and… 'Voldemort' every time it says 'Logan'."

He handed the book to a gobsmacked Harry. "So, um…I'll replace the names..?"

What the fuck was that supposed to mean? Was Geoffrey some kind of idiot and Riddle wanted to humiliate Harry by using his own name instead? Or was this Riddle's attempt at training Harry to call him Voldemort instead of Riddle?

"Yes, exactly. Whenever you are ready."

Harry stared at him a few seconds longer, then shrugged and opened the book. It wasn't particularly thick, but if Riddle really wanted him to read all of them, it would take him more than one evening to finish. He wasn't exactly happy to spent so much time alone with him, but if that was all…

He cleared his throat and began to read. Riddle hadn't lied, it was fiction.

The main character Geoffrey - Harry - was a 19 year old student who wanted to get into his dream University. Apparently it was a very well-known University, and Geoffrey/Harry was afraid to fail his entrance exams, since he did not have outstanding marks.

Harry glanced up at Riddle, trying to determine if this was why he had forced him to swap the names. Did he think Harry would be bothered that his literary counterpart wasn't a smart student?

But Riddle lounged in his chair, lazily sipping at his drink, staring at Harry.

He briefly considered if Riddle wanted him to learn about the old world. Harry had to admit that while he had heard of Universities, the concept about the necessary marks and entrance exam was new to him. Riddle had claimed the story would be educational after all…But why would Harry need to know those things?

Harry focused back on the book.

Geoffrey/Harry's older brother Milo was introduced briefly. Apparently they had lost their parents when Geoffrey/Harry was still a small boy. Since then, Milo had taken care of him.

Logan - Voldemort - was a childhood friend of Milo, 28 years old, a bestselling author, unbelievable rich and pretty smart. He was supposed to help Geoffrey/Harry pass his exam by giving him remedy lessons at his home.

And that was when things became a bit odd.

When Geoffrey/Harry arrived at Logan/Voldemort's luxurious apartment for their first lesson, he found a book that was written by the bestselling author. It was a romance novel and apparently one of the main characters was in fact Milo, for Logan/Voldemort had been secretly in love with him for a long time.

This pissed off Geoffrey/Harry and he stomped into his would-be teacher's bedroom, waking him quite rudely and demanding an explanation.

"You pervert! What the hell is going on in that book?! You have no right to use my brother for your sick fantasies!" yelled Harry and let the disgusting book fall to the floor, glaring at the author who climbed disgruntled out of bed.

"You saw that, eh?" Voldemort's voice was menacing as he slowly approached Harry. The cold look in his eyes made Harry shiver, but he stood his ground determined.

"Don't just go around using other people like that! Just because my brother is kind gives you no right to take advantage of him! Go find someone else! Any man will do right?"

Voldemort's eyes narrowed dangerously before he suddenly grabbed Harry's wrist and tossed him onto the bed.

"Ouch! What-..!" protested Harry and immediately tried to sit back up, but Voldemort was already above him, pinning his wrists down and straddled his legs with his knee.

"What the hell do you know about me?" hissed Voldemort irritated.

"Let go of me!" demanded Harry and struggled against his grip, but the other was too strong.

"Any man will do you say? You're pissing me off."

Voldemort brusquely turned him around, pressing his face into the mattress and twisting his arm painfully on his back. Harry trashed around wildly, crying out in pain when the grip tightened.

"You bastard! What do you think you're doing?"

"Any man will do, right? You said so yourself," smirked the older man evilly.

He bent down and licked Harry's neck while his free hand slipped under his shirt, stroking the bare chest.

Harry froze in panic when an unmistakable hardness pressed against his back as Voldemort bent over him completely.

He shuddered involuntarily. "T-That's n-not what I meant! Stop it you pervert!"

Voldemort merely chuckled maliciously. "Why don't you scream for help, hmm? Mr. D-grade idiot."

"What did you say you asshole?!"

Voldemort tsked and his free hand slipped into Harry's pants instead, grabbing his-

"WHAT THE HELL?!"

Harry let go of the book as if it had burnt him.

Riddle sat relaxed in his armchair across from him, an innocent expression on his face. "He grabbed the 'what the hell'? My, that is unexpected."

"I-…That..! Y-you-…What?!" Harry raked through his hair, angry, stunned and utterly mortified.

Riddle raised an eyebrow. "If you have trouble finding the right words on your own, there are still a lot you can read."

"There's no way in hell I'm going to read that t-to you! That is…It's- It's..!"

Riddle tilted his head, still with that blasted innocent face. "If it's the dubious consent that is bothering you, let me assure you Bella's other excerpts have made it clear that 'Harry' comes to rather enjoy the-…"

"That's not the fucking problem and you know it!"

Harry hid his face in his hands. This could not be happening, they were on page 22 for fuck's sake! There were at least five books on the table! He couldn't read those things, let alone say them out loud in front of Riddle, while using their names.

"We had a deal Harry," reminded him Riddle and Harry hated how he used his name. "Read."

"I hate you," spat Harry, making no move to pick up the book again.

Riddle merely returned his glare, unfazed. "Read," he repeated.

Harry snarled at him and grabbed the book. Fine, he could do this. It was just a stupid story, it wasn't like it was actually Harry that did those things. He would just read it mechanically, he didn't even have to think about the words.

He took a deep breath. "His free hand slipped into…Harry's… pants instead, gr-grabbing his-his-…"

Riddle snorted. "You're even worse off than I expected."

"At least change the names back!" cried Harry indignantly.

Who was he kidding? There was no way he could read without having a clear picture of it. Harry wasn't sure he had ever felt this mortified and…violated.

"Things can only be humiliating if you let them child. Only if you make yourself feel inferior do they have power over you."

"That's easy for you to say! You're just sitting there and listening!"

Riddle seemed to contemplate this. "You believe there's a difference?"

"Of course there's a fucking difference!" gaped Harry.

"Very well. Toss me the book."

Harry frowned, but tossed him the book, relieved to get the thing away from him.

He had not expected Riddle to open it himself.

…his free hand slipped into Harry's pants instead, grabbing his cock roughly.

Harry gasped as his hands began kneading the member, which instantly began to grow under the administrations.

"S-Stop, ah!"

Voldemort's thumb flickered over the head, teasing it lightly with his fingernail.

Harry squirmed in the iron grip, but to no avail. It didn't matter what his mind wanted, his body responded eagerly to the man's touch. This felt so much more intense than when he did it himself. He could already feel himself growing close, his hips involuntarily buckling forward to get more friction. Harry bit his lips to keep himself from moaning, not wanting to give Voldemort the satisfaction. But he couldn't stop the ragged pants that escaped him as he pressed his face into the mattress.

"Hmm? You're quite cute like that."

Voldemort's deep husky voice was all it took to drive Harry over the edge. He balled his fists as the pleasure washed over him, shaking his body violently.

"Heh." Voldemort pulled his hand back and gave his fingers a short lick. "That sure didn't take long."

Riddle's eyes burned into his.

Harry was distantly aware that he was gawking, his body trembling from the effect Riddle's velvet voice had on him. The parallel wasn't lost on him.

The lord hadn't faltered once. In fact, he had read it like he savoured every word on his tongue, making certain Harry knew exactly what he was imagining. It had been bad to read it, involuntarily picturing the scene, but Riddle managed to make him feel it.

His mind was frozen in terror, but certain parts of his neither regions had taken a new interest in his predicament. They could go straight to hell for all he cared.

"Well, was listening easier?" Riddle asked him pleasantly, as if nothing unusual had happened, completely unaffected by his own words.

Apparently Harry's crimson cheeks were enough to answer his question.

"Don't feel bad that you didn't last longer, it is only natural for someone so young-…"

"It wasn't me!" protested Harry, his voice breaking at the end.

Riddle's smirk returned with full force. "Oh but it will be."

Harry blanched at that.

He barely managed to catch the book when Riddle tossed it back to him.

"What happened to your promise to 'get better at it'? A challenge then. You like challenges don't you, child? I dare you to read it without stuttering through it."

"That's not fair," mumbled Harry, but he could feel his obstinacy return somewhat.

A game. Riddle was toying with him, exploiting his insecurities and inexperience expertly. Being reduced to the flustered mess he was right now was exactly what the man wanted…Or not, since he actually tried to 'educate' him first. So what did Riddle want from him? What had caught his interest anyway?

"Just out of curiosity…Would you be more comfortable if the roles were reversed?" asked Riddle, sounding sincerely interested.

"Um…" Harry thought for a moment, cringing when two equally disturbing pictures appeared in his mind. "Yes."

Riddle stared at him in disbelief. "Yes? Oh my, child…Apparently I wasn't clear enough about our positions whe-…"

"Crystal clear, thanks my lord," interrupted Harry hastily. "It's just that I know I would never suddenly…do that…t-to you, but…err…"

"But you think I just might," finished Riddle, leaning back in his chair pleased. "That makes the story so much more realistic don't you think?"

Harry glared at him. That was why the whole thing was so disturbing in the first place. He just hoped he would never again be forced to make a deal with Riddle. He knew after the theory came only practice.

"If you don't start reading soon," warned Riddle darkly, "I'll pick a scene from the last book. And believe me, such things have a tendency to…grow in intensity."

Harry felt slightly nauseous after that.

When he still didn't open the book, Riddle extended his hand.

"No, wait! I get it already! Just…give me a second, not everyone has your bloody self-control," grumbled Harry.

"Do you want to see me flustered?"

Harry choked on his breath. "W-w-what?"

That wasn't possible was it? Riddle never lost his composure. Okay he did, but only when he was enraged beyond all measures. To imagine his expression in the throes of pleasure was just…

Harry's face burned.

Riddle's eyes widened marginally. "You…What did you just picture Harry?"

"N-nothing," he choked out.

He squirmed back in his seat when Riddle stood up and loomed over him. Riddle's hand tilted his chin up, not forceful like earlier, his touch nothing more than a ghostly sensation. Harry's burning skin developed goosebumps immediately.

"Read it to me like you mean it and I'll come undone."

Harry stiffed in shock. It wasn't so much the words, but rather the sincere tone of the lord that froze him. They stared at each other completely motionless before Harry remembered how to breath.

Riddle's expression changed and he sighed mockingly. "Well I see it's too much for you still. After all, I wouldn't want you to chew off more than you can bite."

Harry saw red. With a feral snarl, he grabbed the hand on his chin and pulled while turning his body, reversing their positions on the armchair.

Out of all the things that had happened this day, sitting on top of Riddle was easily the weirdest.

Though he had to admit, Riddle's astonished expression was worth it.

As if everything was completely normal, Harry reopened the book and nonchalantly began to flip through the pages, searching for the point they had left off.

He was a bit surprised that Riddle didn't attempt to reverse their positions again. Either he was getting exactly what he planned, or he truly was too surprised to react.

Harry began to read again, determined to find out whether it really affected Riddle as much as him.

The story continued idly for a while. Milo had to move away because of his job, leaving Geoffrey/Harry to stay with his best friend Logan/Voldemort. The older man was of course thrilled about his new roommate, while the young student was trying desperately to avoid the perverted author.

Once again, the story described Harry's own life way too precise.

There were some very indecent groping scenes but to Harry's relief none escalated. That is, until his literary counterpart found himself pinned down on the coach.

His skin was burning everywhere Voldemort touched him. He was growing weaker and more light-headed by the second. Harry had managed to escape him for several weeks now, but he simply did not have enough strength to push Voldemort away anymore.

Even though his own feelings were still confused, the man was so damn certain of himself it was hard to deny him anything at all. And Harry wasn't sure anymore if he wanted to deny him any longer.

"Harry," murmured Voldemort while nuzzling his neck.

"Sto- nngn."

"Shh, don't think. Just let yourself go."

Voldemort spread his legs with his own and Harry tightened his hold over Voldemort's back.

"G-go slow 'kay?"

Voldemort kissed him in response, pushing forward while Harry's back arched into their embrace, the two bodies melting into o-"

"Heavens above, who wrote that crap?!" Harry looked up indignantly, meeting Riddle's burning gaze.

Harry folded his arms in front of him, glaring at Riddle. "I hope you realize that I will never ever just spread my legs obediently while crying underneath you."

If possible, Riddle looked even more pleased at that. "You didn't think I would nuzzle you, did you?"

Harry snorted. "Oh and here I thought these books are supposed to show me your hidden tender side."

He couldn't quite believe what they were talking about, but at this point he didn't even care anymore. These books were way too sappy and loving to ever apply to his relationship with Riddle. It became clear to him now that they couldn't be more different from the two protagonists. They both knew it. And they were joking about it.

"Maybe we could ask Bella for something more…fitting to your tastes," smirked Riddle, pulling Harry closer to him so that he was almost lying on top of him.

"My tastes?" asked Harry sceptically. "You know I could just build you a puppet if that's all you want."

"Hmm, a gracious offer that I must decline. Do you want me to show you what it is that I want Harry?"

Yes. No. I don't even know what we're talking about.

Harry tilted his head. "Maybe."

He almost didn't get to finish before Riddle kissed him in a way that could not possibly be described in any book. A rational part of him was noting that this was the second time this day and if these things didn't happen a bit too often now.

There was definitely more clawing than melting involved and Harry was pretty certain he tore Riddle's shirt. But the lord was too busy with holding him in place to berate him.

It was clear that as much as it pleased Riddle that Harry was returning his administrations with full force, he had had enough with lying on his back. Harry for his part had no intentions whatsoever to let Riddle reverse their positions again. They were struggling for a while, until Riddle seemed to decide that their current position gave him better access to Harry's back anyways.

Thrilled with his minor victory, Harry leaned more heavily on Riddle. He wasn't exactly pushing him down with his weight, but well, one could try right?

Riddle growled and bit his lip in response. But by then, Harry's coherent senses were long gone and he could only concentrate on getting more.

Until a hand sneaked into his pants and Harry's focus snapped back into place. He jumped up on all fours, landing unsteadily on his feet and backed away to the next wall.

Riddle was sprawled out in the chair, his eyes trailing lazily behind Harry, the intensity slowly returning.

The lord didn't move, but every muscle seemed tense, ready to…what? Jump at him?

They were both breathing hard, Riddle additionally had grabbed the armrests so hard his knuckles turned white.

Harry shuddered against the wall. How should he ever counter such force? He would get crushed.

He realized the lord resembled a predator exceptionally well. And Harry was nothing but prey.

But he would not be caught.

Yet.

He slowly backed away further, his eyes never leaving Riddle, just as Riddle's eyes never left him.

Harry tried to convince himself that he wasn't running away again. It was just…a strategic retreat. Riddle didn't try to stop him, he was just watching him silently, his body still ready to strike.

Creepy as fuck.

Harry actually walked through the door backwards. Showing Riddle his back seemed like the stupidest thing to do right now.

He let out a tense breath.

What the hell just happened? He had been prepared for a humiliating or painful command, but of course, Riddle had chosen to mess with his head instead.

And what a mess it was now. Half of him still wanted to go back in there. As if any sane person would even consider that.

"I must be the most deranged, sick, confused-…."

"…obnoxious, insufferable brat that ever lived?"

Harry staggered back in shock, then glared at the shadows.

"Jeez, are you everywhere?"

Snape stepped into the dim light of the torch. "Let's say I work hard to keep people wondering about that."

"What do you want?" sighed Harry.

"Add 'rude' to your list Potter," he sneered. "I am working on your tests after all. I'll need your blood."

"Anything that gets me away from here is a step for the better."

He scuffled behind Snape, who led him through the maze back to the dungeons and into a room that looked very much like his old working place, but a lot tidier.

Snape gestured to an uncomfortable looking wooden stool for Harry to sit while he carefully took and stored his blood.

While sealing the last bottle, he subjected Harry to his unnerving scrutiny.

"You look at me like my blood just came out green or something," grumbled Harry.

"Maybe I expected that. At least then I'd have some explanation."

"For what?"

Snape glanced back at him and took a moment to look him up and down.

Harry followed his stare, taking in his own dishevelled appearance and suddenly realizing his bloodied lip was throbbing mildly in pain.

He looked up and met Snape's inquiring eyes.

"Don't ask."

Snape quirked an eyebrow. "Draco told me you made him laugh."

"Shut up."

"Actually laugh, Potter."

Harry buried his head in his hands and groaned. "Shit, how many people has he told the story?"

"Of his grand adventure? Everyone has heard it at least twice."

Harry sighed frustrated, he hadn't even thought about what his recent bad luck might do to his reputation.

"Since you helped me twice Potter, I'll tell you a few things about the group you landed in."

Harry looked up confused. "Why do I need to know that now?"

"Because new members are not supposed to come here, fall through a giant rabbit hole and spent several hours alone with our lord."

"He ordered me to!" protested Harry.

"That," stated Snape coolly, "Is the worst part about it."

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Disclaimer: The series Junjou Romantica belongs to Shungiku Nakamura (at least according to Wikipedia, I personally never read it, only watched the anime (which of course I don't own either)). Some of the events I used are almost exactly as in the series, others are a bit inaccurate. I do not own any of them. I only replaced the names with random ones.

A/N: So, tell me when you realised what Voldemort was up to^^. See? I told you it's not what you're thinking. It's not sex but it's also not not sex...right? I don't know, I'm confused myself xD. Let's call it forced dirty talk shall we?
But I got to write some clichéd, sappy scenes, which might be the only chance I get in this story, because I don't expect Harry and Riddle to ever turn all sweet and fluffy :P.

Plot-wise we didn't even take a baby step, but what can you expect with those two alone in a room...

Please leave a review so I know you haven't all disappeared on me :o. Bye! :)