January Challenge (Harry Potter/Voldemort)
He ran his finger over the scar on the younger male's forehead. It was stunning in appearance. Powerful in magic. There was something about the scar that drove Tom mad. Something about the young man in general that kept him in such a state.
"Tell me, Harry," he spoke slowly, fingers trailing down the boy's collarbone, "what is it about you that leaves me so breathless?"
"I don't know, sir," Harry responded, his voice automatic and flat. There was a distance in his gaze like he was looking past the other occupant in the room.
Tom wouldn't have that. Grasping Harry's chin, he forced the boy to look at him. Those green eyes were dull, but there was a fire behind them. A fire that Tom would send blazing.
"My Lord," a voice broke from the doorway. Glancing away from those startling green eyes, Tom glared at the Death Eater who had dared to interrupt.
"What is it? Can you not see I am busy?"
"We heard from Lucius," the man glanced between the Dark Lord and the man he had pushed against the wall, "he confirmed the location of the Order. We wait for your word to strike."
Tom looked away, turning his attention back to Potter. For a second, that fire sparked but faded away. Dull emerald stared ahead.
Growling, Tom turned back towards the man. "I want no one left alive. Man, woman, child, eradicate them all."
The man nodded, and left, the door clicking closed behind them. Turning his attention back onto Harry, Tom placed his hand on the side of the young man's neck.
"Tell me Harry," he spoke again, "what will you do after the Order is gone?"
"I don't know sir," he answered again, the same flat sentence.
Frowning heavily, Tom breathed and allowed the magic to course from his body and through his fingers. He watched, the silver strands lifting from his fingers and sinking into Harry's neck. After a moment, the silver past through Harry's emerald eyes. They sparked and blazed like a fire.
The thin line of Harry's mouth turned roughly into a wicked smirk. The fire behind his eyes continued to blaze. He reached out, running his hand along the base of Tom's throat.
"Tell me Harry," Tom started one last time, "how does it feel?"
"Wonderful, My Lord," Harry responded. Moving quickly, he crushed his lips to Tom's, sucking hard enough to remove the air from his lungs.
Pulling apart, his bottom lip caught between Harry's teeth, Tom smirked. He wished he could have the younger male of his own free will. He wished the Chosen One had come to him on his own. But as that was not the case, he would have to make do. Crushing his lips against Harry's and greedily trying to swallow him, Tom considered that if he couldn't have Harry of free will, he would have him in force. He would be in control.