Author's Note: Okay, I was getting afraid that people were going to start sending death threats if I didn't update so . . .

Chapter Twenty Two -- Deflowering (Part Two)

Harry Potter turned around to look at the boy next to him, curled up in a fetal position, letting out slight humming noises in his sleep. He looked content, lying there -- Content and happy. He couldn't be more than sixteen, Harry thought to himself, brushing a strand of black hair out of the boy's face. He couldn't be more than sixteen . . . Couldn't be more than another student at Hogwarts . . . Couldn't be more than another pretty boy sharing his bed and . . . But he wasn't just another pretty boy sharing his bed. Lord Voldemort was sharing his bed.

And it all hit Harry like a bludger to the head.

What had he done last night? What had he been thinking? He replayed the events of the evening -- Replacing the name "Tom" with the name "Lord Voldemort." After all, they were one and the same. He had kissed Lord Voldemort. He had fondled Lord Voldemort. He had . . . He shuddered as the actions became more pornographic and hard to think about. He had gone down on Lord Voldemort. He had let Lord Voldemort fuck him . . . The cold thoughts invaded his mind. It suddenly dawned on Harry that he really had been trying to make Tom Riddle into a completely different entity. Having sex with Tom Riddle was an enjoyable thought. Having sex with Lord Voldemort was still utterly repulsive to him. Lord Voldemort. What would his parents have said?

"Stop thinking about your parents," Tom -- Lord Voldemort -- murmured harshly.

Harry started. "How did you know I was . . .?"

"Just knew," Tom shrugged, turning over.

"I thought you were asleep," Harry stated.

"I know you did. What exactly are you thinking about your parents? How disappointed they'd be in you? How they'd scorn you? How you're disrespecting them as we speak?"

As if to emphasize his point, Tom softly kissed the nape of Harry's neck. Harry shuddered but whether it was from the kiss or the cruel comment, he wasn't so sure. Tom wrapped his arms around Harry, pulling the young boy closer.

"So? What were you thinking?"

"Why did you kill my parents?" Harry sighed. He wanted to shove off Tom's arms. He wanted to distance himself from the man who'd murdered his parents that night, years ago. Unfortunately, something -- One of those indefinite powers -- kept him locked in place.

"I love how you ask that right after we've had sex," Tom said, his voice breathy. "I killed your parents for reasons . . . That you don't need to know about, Harry. Harry Potter . . ." Tom's voice was low and raspy and Harry flinched in Tom's embrace. It was all becoming clearer to him now -- That parasitic face that haunted his first year, that memory that had invaded Ginny's thoughts, the cause of Cedric Diggory's death . . .

Oh God, Cedric Diggory. Harry hadn't thought about him until now. Cedric Diggory -- The boy who had gone through the Triwizard Tournament with him and had lost his life in the process. Harry elbowed Tom, fighting his way out of Tom's arms and rolling over to the other side of the bed.

"From now on," Harry said, biting into the words. "You stay on your side of this bed. I stay on mine."

"What's the matter now?" Tom asked, rolling his eyes -- A fairly immature gesture and not something that Harry would have expected from Tom . . . No, from Lord Voldemort.

"I let myself forget," Harry said, bitterly. "I let myself forget that . . . It's just a façade, isn't it? The whole thing is just a façade to make the thought of spending the rest of my life with you semi-bearable. Isn't that it?"

"What are you talking about, Harry?" Tom asked, irritated yet . . . concerned.

"How could I ever forgive you? How could I forgive you after what you did to my parents . . ."

"I had a perfectly good reason for what I did your parents," Tom lashed back.

"So you claim. Why don't you tell me what it is then? Was it just because they wouldn't join in an alliance with you? Was it just because they defied you and fought against you . . . Or was there something else that you aren't telling me?"

Tom cast his eyes downward, not wanting to look at Harry at the present moment.

"I'll tell you some other time. It's not just the fact that they defied me, no. There was more to it than that. But I don't feel like telling you now."

"Whatever," Harry said, getting out of bed and walking over to the dresser.

"Is that it? Is this whole little . . . tirade about your parents?"

"No," Harry shouted. "It's not just about my parents. It's about the fact that you ruined my life. For the past sixteen years, my life has been in complete turmoil because of you. Do you know what it's like to have your very existence threatened since the day you were born? Do you know what it's like to live in fear?"

"A life lived in fear is a life half lived," Tom replied, lying back against the headboard. "Now come back to bed, won't you?"

"No," Harry said, distastefully, tossing on a spare robe. "I will not go back to bed with Lord Voldemort."

And before Tom could reply, Harry had left the room.

"But why won't you go to back to bed with Tom Riddle?" Tom sighed, lying his head against the pillow. "Or has the child finally figured out that they're really one and the same?"

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Harry made his way up the stairs to the Gryffindor dormitories. The door eased open under his gentile touch and he walked inside the darkened bedroom. Yes, there were those four-posted beds with the Gryffindor-colored curtains. It was all so familiar and yet, it seemed like it had been such a long time since he'd been in his room. Harry noticed that "his bed" had been sentimentally left vacant. Coincidental, Harry smiled. He tiptoed across the floor, making sure not to wake any of his roommates and he lay down in his bed, pulling the coverlet up around his chin.

"That you, Harry?" Ron whispered from the bed next to his.

"Yeah," Harry yawned. "Anyone else awake?"

"Nah. Just me. Why are you here?"

"Thanks for sounding so glad to see me," Harry smiled.

"No, it's great to see you, it's just . . . Did Tom do anything wrong?"

Harry didn't know how to answer that. Tom hadn't done anything wrong . . . recently.

"No, Tom didn't do anything. I just don't know how to handle him at the moment. I . . . He's Lord Voldemort."

"Did this just dawn on you?" Ron smirked.

"Yes," Harry replied, biting on his lip. "Well, it dawned on me before this but tonight we . . ." Harry faded off, his cheeks turning a brilliant crimson. He was suddenly glad for the lack of light. This way, Ron couldn't see his vibrant blushing.

"You . . . What?"

"God Ron," Harry thought to himself. "Can't you fill in the blanks yourself?" Harry turned over in bed, trying to avoid the topic of conversation. He didn't really want to have to explain his sexual exploits.

"G'night Ron," Harry said, closing his eyes and trying to leave his thoughts behind.

"What were you doing? What happened?" But when Ron heard quiet snoring coming from the next bed, he gave up his inquiries and decided it was time for sleep.

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Harry tossed and turned, his face covered in a sweat gleam -- Not quite asleep but not quite awake either. In this alpha state, he began to think about the evening. The sex had been fairly fulfilling. Nothing like those porn novels that Ron kept hidden under his bed but it had been fulfilling all the same. Harry swallowed and realized that the taste of Tom's semen was still lingering in his mouth. He was too tired to get out of bed and brush his teeth though so he allowed the salty substance to continue to infiltrate his senses. It had been odd -- Getting down on his knees in front of Tom Riddle, coming face-to-face with another boy's erection. At first, it had disgusted him -- The age-old gay prejudice more than anything. Then, it had confused him. What was he doing here? Was this really what he wanted? Then, he had finally gotten a grip on himself and, without further ado, he had taken the length into his mouth. Harry grimaced at the thought of his performance. It had been sloppy and fumbling. He had no idea what he was doing and it showed it every awkward flick of the tongue, every misplaced stroke of the hand.

But the sex had been fulfilling . . . albeit painful but . . .

"Christ," Harry thought, rolling over and finally resigning himself to slumber. "I lost my virginity tonight."

Author's Note: Well, there's your second part. I really didn't want to write any major sex scenes (I'm sorry -- I just haven't felt like it as of late) so I threw in a little sex at the end for those who were really looking forward to it. I'll update soon . . . Not letting a whole month pass like last time . . . Oh and, note to all reviewers, I've been reading all of your comments and a lot of you have mentioned the potion wearing off: We might be seeing that sometime in the near future (Grins maniacally). Oh and note: The lovely line "A life lived in fear is a life half lived" is probably something you remember from the lovely film "Strictly Ballroom!"