When Harry consented to this ridiculous celebration, he expected his mother would consider his social circumstances and prepare a small party, perhaps only for family . Expecting minimal from Narcissa Malfoy was like to expecting fish to walk on land.
She was fortunate that he loved her.
Father had let him mingle, but he was only on greeting duty for the last several hours of the celebration. His father had a habit of rewarding and punishing him at the same time, a skill which he had yet to share with Harry.
His father had imparted in him the skills of reading, writing, and table manners, among other things. Harry pondered why he had never pursued a career as a teacher. His father, on the other hand, was very accomplished at what he did. At least, that's what Draco and everyone else believes.
His brother had taught him how to dress, but he didn't quite match Draco's style standards . That was why Draco continued to dress him and style his hair. He often forgot that Draco was his older brother. At times, he acted like a baby.
As he strolled down the corridor, he was repeatedly given a 'Happy Birthday, Mister Malfoy.' Mother seems to have invited everyone and then some from the ministry. When was the obnoxious party going to end again?
As he lifted his hand to brush his fingers through his hair, a nervous practice he acquired from the twins. Draco approached him and presented him with a glass of champagne.
"Mother is searching for you on the terrace," he says instead of a greeting
Oh, what a pain this was going to be. All of his Mother's 'friends' were now going to pass judgement on him and offer him their worthless advice. Whatever the case may be, he might as well consider running away after all. He had sufficient funds in his trust vault.
He sighed and strolled over to the terrace, a smile on his face.
"Hello Mother, I hope you're doing well? Draco informed me that you requested my presence."
"Oh, there you are!" she exclaimed. "Ladies, this is my son, Harry," she said, and Harry's heart still skipped a beat as she said it. He never quite got used to feeling like he belonged.
He greeted them with a courteous bow and kissed their hands when necessary. They were all captivated by him.
"Darling, where did you purchase those dress robes?" "They look just fantastic on you," one of his Mother's friends added, her condescending tone not quite fitting her words.
"They were a souvenir from Romainia, Mrs. Parkinson," he said with a smile.
His polite voice made the women all chuckle. The more criticisms he faced, the more irritated he became.
Lady Greary inquired about his cufflinks, to which he replied that they were a gift from his father.
Soon after, he realised he had door duty and needed to go before his Father arrived to pick him up. "Mother, I must bid you farewell," he whispered softly kissing her on the cheek.
With wide jaws and unbridled envy, the females watched. Mother had a pleased expression on her face. She was truly a remarkable.
Of course, when boys reached his age, they refused to show their mother any affection. He was quite different from that perspective, his previous life had ensured that.
He walked smugly over to his father, who was already standing at the entrance with a courteous grin on his face.
He'd been prepared for this, and he wasn't looking to be spanked on his 16th birthday.
For the tenth time that evening, Harry's eye twitched. He has no idea why he committed to this pointless birthday celebration in the first place. Oh, wait, he already does. Draco. Draco with his puppy dog eyes that are so aggravating. His brother was going to be his undoing. His one flaw was exploited by his entire family. Harry had never had a genuine brother, therefore if Draco pestered him about it, Harry would give up to his every whim. It could be a lot worse he supposed.
Famous last words .
He's in front of the grates. In the company of his Father who appears to be displeased. He looks like he's had too many handshakes and is about to combust with the next one.
Lord Voldemort appears from the fireplace. That was not who he was expecting. After all, who invited him to Harry's birthday celebration? Father was usually sucking up to him, therefore it was definitely him.
But because Harry is unable to speak, he politely smiles while Voldemort converses with his father. His eye twitches once more. He wants to choke Bellatrix, but he is well aware that this will almost certainly end in punishment.
So, obviously, he doesn't. Harry, on the other hand, hasn't always been that restrained. Mild stinging hexes and spankings have been used to instil it in him. Harry believes he'd receive a thorough thrashing if he told his father that muggles punish their children with spanking as well.
As a result, he keeps it to himself but he does tell Draco, and the two of them giggle at each other throughout the day. Whenever Father enters the room, for the most part. Mother was chuckling , thoroughly amused. Father, on the other hand, was adamantly opposed.
In any case, he was deviating off path. Voldemort smiles at Harry, and he notices a scowl forming on his face, so he sweetly returns the smile. He was considering a variety of methods for strangling his stupidly pretty face. He despised and adored this man at the same time. Why had he come to Harry's party anyway?
Voldermort had spoken something and was clearly anticipating a response. Father appeared to be ready to strangle him.
"Excuse me, my lord, could you repeat that?"
"Happy birthday, Harry, and what do you want as a present?"
.fuck
Lord Voldermort has never posed such question to anybody before. Oh, he wasn't prepared for this. Because his Father flexed his fingers, his eyes must have shown his worry.
'You're head on a platter' and 'a hanjob with those expert fingers' were not acceptable responses to Lord Voldermort, according to Harry. With his gaze, Lucius begs for the situation to end. Harry is having trouble breathing.
"Your presence, my lord, is enough of a gift."
His father is relieved when he comes up with it on the spot. Bellatrix has a grin on her face. The scoundrel.
Voldemort bows down to reach his ear and grins pleasantly. Why is he so tall in the first place? This man was a behemoth, and Harry was exactly ordinary height. When Voldemort talks in his ear, though, he becomes silent.
"I'd want my face in your detectable arse for my birthday," Harry chokes, as Voldemort saunters away.
Harry's father is inquiring about what Voldemort said, but he's too preoccupied with going crimson and hyperventilating.
The absurdity that his imagination could conjure up felt realistic at times. Is that how Voldemort genuinely makes it feel? Harry almost groans out loud as he imagines his silky tongue in his arse. He abruptly moves away from his father and glances at Voldemort, making eye contact with him, he hurries into the family wing. Straining his ears he hears footsteps trailing behind him.
Voldermort was having a delightful evening. He'd just gotten an invitation to his sweetheart's birthday celebration. Normally, he would have tossed it into the fire pit, as he had done several times before. However, the invitation seemed alluring. How could he refuse to pay a visit to his prized possession? He grinned now that he had a reason to visit him. After all how many times could he visit under the pretence of visiting Lucius . He smiled again .
It was more of a shit-eating-feral smirk, to be frank. Nonetheless, he grinned. He hopes Bellatrix is willing to accompany him.
He looked over the documents with a grimace on his face. Perhaps a little later.
He stepped into Malfoy Mannor through the foyer a few hours after finishing endless amounts of paper work and was ecstatic to find Harry waiting there. Lord Voldermort was late, in fact, he was... close to the end, he assumed.
Nonetheless, his reward was standing right there in the blue dress robes, looking delectable. He might simply-
He approached Lucius first.
"Lucius, I hope you're doing quite well?"
"Yes, and you, my Lord?"
"I'm doing tremendously well."
He could see Harry's frown from the corner of his eye, as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. And then he swiftly adopts a neutral attitude after curling his lip at Bellatrix.
"What would you like as a birthday gift Harry?" he said, as though he had not observed the break in his mask.
Harry's eye twitch caught his attention. Oh, and did he forget to mention that Harry detest him?
"I'm sorry, my lord, could you repeat that?"
When Harry asked so nicely, how could he say no? When he repeated himself, he saw flashes of fury and lust in those dazzling green eyes before they completely closed.
"Your presence, my lord, is enough of a gift."
His harry was such a cunning little serpent. He was attempting to impress his Lord. Lord Voldermort despised admitting it, but it was effective. He leant down to Harry's ear, somewhat nervous, and murmured.
"I'd like my face in your detectable arse for my birthday."
He then strolled away. He could hear Lucius questioning the boy with no replies behind him, and he saw Harry glance at him and walk away towards the family wing from his prereferral vision. The chase had begun.
Hi everyone, its mostly a surprise coming back to writing on this account again but I've had to purge my creativity someplace . this just sort of came out of me before I knew what was happening . i liked writing this and the characters seem to have a life of their own . I'm not sure if I continue with this story line and onto smut since this is a prlogue or just begin with the story . this entire thing is heavily inspired by The Guile and Devotion Of A Black Heir and I 100% suggest you check that story out as well