Disclaimer: You don't really need this, do you?
Warning: There's sex. This is more plotty than smutty because I have a severe hate for writing smut, but I am able to do it, and I know that I like reading it, so I won't cheat you guys out of it just cus I'm not always in a raunchy mood. So! Butt-Sex.
Pairings: Harry Potter X Lord Voldemort/Tom Riddle, and Evan Rosier X Lucius Malfoy (Though the second won't have any smut, it is a bit important to the story.)
A/N: Okay, so I did say that all of my Harry Potter fanfics are on Hiatus. However, my love for Harry Potter isn't allowing me to stop writing just because I've stopped publishing. With that said, although I still am rather upset about what happened wih Parasomnia that made me put them all on Hiatus, I'm so focused on this fanfic right now that it's already four chapters long, and it just didn't seem fair to keep it from you any longer.
Enjoy!
Voldemort had raised his wand. His head was still tilted to one side, like a curious child, wondering what would happen if he proceeded. Harry looked back into the red eyes, and wanted it to happen now, quickly, while he could still stand, before he lost control, before he betrayed fear –
He saw the mouth move, just a little, and then a pause. Red eyes bored into his, and he felt a rush of pain piercing through his forehead, but it didn't cause him to lose balance. He was aware of the pain, but unharmed by it as it seared his mind, forcing thoughts, memories long forgotten, and knowledge beyond his years into his head.
And then, a calm velvet voice entirely not his own erupted from his throat, using his mouth to form words that he could hear in his head but had no authority to say on his own.
"Stop," The voice urged, and Voldemort, miraculously, listened. Harry could tell in the snake-man's eyes that he recognized this voice, that he was confused by it, but compelled to listen. "Look at what you've almost done," The voice scolded, and Harry felt his face pulled into a sneer that – like the voice – did not at all match the image he had of himself.
Then, the man was coming closer, so close that Harry could feel the odd warmth he emitted. It was strange, because somehow Harry knew that if he touched this man, the skin would be cold as ice, yet he seemed to make the boy hero feel rather hot as he approached. He could sense a presence in his head snickering at that, and was suddenly accepting of the fact that Hermione was right, and the thing he thought was simply his conscience was someone else entirely.
Voldemort was only measly inches away now, and slowly – delicately he reached a hand up to caress Harry's face. He pressed his icy white palm against the child's forehead, like a mother checking for fever, and Harry couldn't help but release a light whimper, feeling himself pressing farther into the touch.
Inexplicably, he was hardening in his pants. And somehow he knew that the Dark Lord knew this, and somehow he knew that the Dark Lord knew that he knew that the Dark Lord knew – and somehow, as complicated as that was, it made him blush.
An unnaturally long finger swept over Harry's cheeks, and blood red eyes observed him like a newly discovered species.
"This is … an unexpected development," Voldemort whispered, and Harry wondered why he felt the need to speak so quietly, when at some point he had clearly placed a horrifically strong privacy ward around the two of them.
"What is?" Harry asked, breathlessly, wishing that Voldemort would put his hand back on his forehead … and maybe his other hand on his cock. Now that would be pretty lovely for an unexpected development.
It was at this inopportune moment that Harry Potter became aware of the fact that Voldemort had no trouble at all reading his mind. Unfortunately for our sex driven protagonist, Voldemort simply rolled his eyes with mild agitation and made no move towards the scar or Harry's erection.
Harry found the will not to be embarrassed, instead offering The Dark Lord a look that he hoped was sexy. He'd never know it if was or not, only that for the first time he heard a true laugh escape the man's lips.
"Harry the Horcrux, trying to seduce the Dark Lord..." Voldemort murmured, looking directly into Harry's eyes and gazing studiously into his thoughts, mostly the ones that Harry hadn't even become re-aware of until the voice of his not-quite-conscience had spoken through his lips.
"Curiouser and curiouser," He mused, taking a step back. "I am going to alter the memories of those who are in this clearing with us, Harry." Voldemort said, "To them, it will appear that I tried to kill you and succeeded. I will, of course, have failed yet again." He smirked, "Feel free to be creative thinking up a reason why."
Harry nodded, taking the information being given to him in stride and vowing not to disappoint his master.
"Your body – and do try to keep it still – will be carried back to Hogwarts. At some point, by the end of tonight, you must kill me."
Harry panicked at the thought, eyes widening and tears threatening to brim over. Voldemort looked astonished by the emotional display.
"Fear not, little Horcrux. Keep Nagini and yourself safe. Some day soon, I'll be back."
The part of Harry's mind that he had always thought was his conscience purred at the thought, and then, the privacy wards came down – and the games began.
- Three Years Later -
"A toast!" Rang out the booming proud voice of Horace Slughorn, "To the twentieth year of life for our Minister of Magic. My very own pupil and friend, Mr. Harry James Potter!"
Harry smiled dutifully, as was expected of him, and forced his eyes to display no sarcastic emotion at Slughorn's smug attitude. After all, The Boy Who Lived was certainly a person worth collecting, as it were. His intelligence was simply underestimated by most people he chose to associate himself with. This was, however, quite deliberate, especially over the past three years. He would not complain.
He was seated in the ministry ballroom, at his own twentieth birthday party. As the youngest man to rule wizarding Britain in history, it was kind of a big deal. He'd only been Minister for a little over a year, having acquired the position in May, when he was eighteen, and held it all the way through his nineteenth year until now. He was surrounded by friends and fools, something that was not unusual these days. Ever the loyal Gryffindor, all of Harry's friends were aware of the truth behind his political career, and anyone else who was unable to see it was a fool.
"Speech, speech, speech!" The people chanted, and as he knew he must, Harry rose from his seat to oblige them.
'Tom,' He whispered delicately into his own head, knowing without fail that the "Dark Lord" everyone credited him with defeating would be able to hear him loud and clear.
'Harry,' A silky voice responded mockingly, and Harry smiled, though he was sure everyone at the party assumed it wasn't at the sound of Voldemort's playful drawl.
'The people want a speech from their minister,' Harry explained, though he was fairly certain his lover had already guessed at that fact.
'Then a speech they shall have,' Tom answered, and Harry relaxed his mind, feeling the pulsing ache of the scar on his forehead as it twitched excitedly. He opened his mouth, and played follow the leader.
'More than a year it's been, since you all so kindly accepted me. You cannot imagine how grateful I am.' Tom's voice narrated in his head.
"More than a year it's been, since you all so kindly accepted me," Harry repeated aloud, "You cannot imagine how grateful I am."
'Although we embarked on this journey together when I was no more than an eager child, still ignorant to the meaning of power, and without desire to grasp it; you have given me your time, your guidance, and most honorably – your trust. '
"Although we embarked on this journey together when I was no more than an eager child, still ignorant to the meaning of power, and without desire to grasp it; you have given me your time, your guidance, and most honorably – your trust." Harry was trying very hard not to laugh at the words Tom was placing on his lips, clearly hearing the mockery of himself laced throughout the speech as they continued. The only part of the speech that he truly had to alter was when Tom got a little egotistical.
'When I by some strange and rather unlikely happenstance maimed the all great and powerful dark lord Voldemort with the assistance of a strange ritual performed by my filthy Mudblood mother at the impossibly retarded age of only one year old ...'
Harry chuckled silently to himself. "When I brought down You-Know-Who for the first of many times, at the ripe young age of one..." he edited with a loving roll of the eye, hearing Tom's disdainful snort ringing through his head.
'I had no way of knowing the path that my life would take..."
And onward they continued, until the speech came to a graceful close. Tom really was quite the excellent speech giver, and a wonderful Minister as well. Of course, if the general wizarding public were aware of the fact that they were actually being ruled by Lord Voldemort rather than The Boy Who Lived, it would cause quite an uproar – but the biggest secrets were the easiest kept. No one would have believed it anyway, because the laws being put forward were so fair. They all underestimated him. They all smiled, sure. They all thought him a capable enough killer which was what they felt they needed right now. But they underestimated their savior. They'd never be convinced that he had truly tamed the last living heir of Slytherin and agreed to a very reasonable compromise on how to run Wizarding Britain.
Well, some people believed it. The usual suspects, Hermione and the Weasley nine – well, now the Weasley eight, but sacrifices had been made and Harry couldn't shame the memories of the dead by wallowing in remorse and passing up his own chance to live. Also, Neville and Luna were kept up-to-date. Naturally, Voldemort's Death Eaters and their families were all perfectly aware of the fact that the Dark Lord had somehow won the war, but was for some reason pretending as if he hadn't.
It was all very Slytherin, really.
And speaking of snakes... Harry grinned as he drifted across the room and came into contact with a smartly dressed Lucius Malfoy. How the man had avoided Azkaban so expertly this time was a great mystery but it might have just a little to do with the fact that Harry had rather boldly refused to testify against him, confusing everyone but his friends.
"Lucius," Harry said, his voice small and sweet.
"Master Potter," Lucius acknowledged, tilting his head, "My Lord," He greeted again, giving a deeper bow.
Harry giggled slightly, and fiddled a little with the ring on his right middle finger as he whispered into his head yet again. 'One of your Death Eaters is saying hello to you, Tom,'
'I don't care. When are you coming home?' Voldemort snapped back, clearly annoyed that Harry hadn't tipped out after the speech. Offended by the tone, the younger man proceeded to pointedly ignore the elder's frustrated inquiry.
"Our mutual acquaintance sends his best," The boy lied, in response to Lucius's greeting – more so to tease his lover than to deceive the Malfoy patriarch.
The blond wore an amused grin, certain of the falsehood in those words, but he knew better than to pry into private affairs and ask to know what The Dark Lord had actually said.
"How goes the aristocratic life at Malfoy Manor?" Harry asked, truly curious.
"Everything is wonderful. Narcissa sends her best. She regrets that she could not make it out tonight,"
Harry frowned, "Not more trouble with Draco's wife?" He asked with genuine concern.
"The woman seems stubbornly determined not to carry a child to term," Lucius spat out, disgusted with his son's marriage and the lack of children produced by it.
"Well, inbreeding can bring unfortunate consequences, my friend. You and Narcissa have only managed a single child, and Master and Mistress Lestrange didn't have any." No matter who Harry's allegiance lied with, Bellatrix Lestrange had been a cunt and he refused to say her name unless absolutely necessary.
'Come home, Harry...' Tom's voice seductively whispered to him, 'I want to spread open your legs and run my tongue all over your-'
Harry abruptly choked on the spot, gaining a concerned glance from Lucius, who had apparently been talking.
"I need to go," Harry said, wanting to feel bad for cutting the man off – but knowing that the Malfoy family understood quite well that when Harry said he needed to be elsewhere he meant it in a severe way that many others couldn't even begin to understand.
Without another word, Harry turned on the spot and disappeared.
A/N: So how did you like it? Please let me know with a review. The next two chapters are done, so when I see how it's received I'll post the next :)
I love you for reading!
-Beloved
