VI
"Ready Potter?"
That depends, Harry thought wryly.
"I suppose."
"Good. I'll tell you to come into the ballroom shortly, but first we're to test your comprehensive skills. After reading the first book, you should be able to tell me how many of my seemly followers have arrived thus far..."
"But I can't see--oh. You mean sense them."
"Very good," he replied sarcastically.
Harry took a breath a tried to remember the book's instructions for identifying auras and degrees of magical power. It was all very abstract and hard to picture, but he did have a bit of experience with that type of magic, right?
The first step was to relax, that much he remembered well enough. But 'relax' wasn't the easiest thing to accomplish as nervous as he was about what could happen in that room. He ordered his breathing and closed his eyes in an attempt to accomplish the first step. Riddle was silent during this time but the boy could still feel him waiting patiently for an answer in the back of his mind . He tried to reach out but all he could feel was Riddle's presence somewhere nearby.
At that moment Harry might have sworn an audible bell rang in his head.
He had been 'sensing' Riddle all of this time. Why should it be any different with other wizards? Sure he and Riddle had the connection to make it easier, but the concept was the same.
Potter tuned the Dark Lord's presence out as much as he could and scanned the power surrounding him. There were certainly foreign pools of energy in the room with Riddle, but how many was unclear. It felt like a mixed blur of power.
"I can't tell. It's too jumbled up."
"Then separate them," was the simple reply.
Harry decided to give it another shot.
Ok..I've already separated Riddle from 'them'. That was easy because his is so prominent...perhaps there's another prominent one there.
He reached out with his own magic and tentatively allowed the blur to wash over him. Indeed there was another strong aura in the mix, and while it wasn't nearly as powerful as Lord Voldemort's, it was recognizable - Lucius Malfoy. Elated by this accomplishment, Harry quickly moved on to the others. There were at least four different auras left, and one of them he suspected was Snape's.
"Five. There are five others there with you," he answered somewhat shakily.
There was a thoughtful pause.
"Actually there are six, but Longdon and Adams are puny enough to be considered one. That was nearly acceptable for your first try Potter."
Harry wasn't even going to try to figure out whether or not that had been a compliment. Whatever it had been, Riddle was done for the time being and had receded from his mind. Harry let out a breath and leaned against wall in the sitting room to which he'd been sent to wait. He wondered how many Death Eaters there were and if they'd all be there for the gathering. What went on at these meetings besides what he'd dreamed in the past? Muggle abuse? Planning? and if so, planning of what?
He was curious, anxious, and afraid all at the same time. They would all have arrived soon and Riddle still hadn't indicated what he was to do in there. His earlier worry that he'd be made into dark wizard sport for the lot of them swam around in his gut. At that moment anything seemed possible.
Harry very much wished for a friendly face. But he was quickly reminded of why he was still in this situation and soon labeled the notion cowardly and liberated it. He had decided to handle this on his own. It was his decision and he would tough it out.
His countenance hardened with new reserve just before Riddle resurfaced.
"Walk across the entrance hall and into the ballroom. I'll be standing just ahead of the door. Approach me properly and kneel beside me."
So it was finally show time.
He left the sitting room as instructed and went to the grand set of French doors containing the ballroom. He could see a large mass of black robes in the center of the room just by looking through the glass of the doors and some of his confidence faltered.
"Any day, Potter..."
At the sound of the doors opening everyone in the room turned and Harry was met by the unforgiving white masks of well over a dozen Death Eaters.
There's so many...
"You'll do wisely to give my pet some room."
Riddle's voice was a reminder of the situation at hand and that he still had a task to complete. The group parted to reveal their master waiting calmly with his hands clasped behind his back. Harry tried to walk as steadily as possible with so many eyes on him but found it difficult. Luckily, he was expected to crawl the rest of the way, easier to do in his edgy state. From the floor, it was as if they all towered above him, especially Riddle, whose finely embroidered robes Harry brought to his lips when he reached him.
There was a collective murmur at the exchange and Harry could feel the blush beginning. Why did this have to be so public?
"You'll grow accustomed to it all, boy."
Harry didn't reply, but crawled to Riddle's right side and knelt there as thin fingers slithered into his hair. He was caressed in a silent sign of approval that, somewhere inside, Harry was thankful for. Riddle began to address his followers in his beautifully cultured voice, and it began to matter less and less that there were over a dozen people watching him be pet like a loyal dog by the Dark Lord.
He tried to listen to the meeting and learn more about the followers gathered there. He was able to match a few more auras to identities since Riddle called them all by name. He supposed that was how The Dark Lord was able to identify them all with their masks and robes on. Some of them, Harry guessed, were Ministry officials, who imparted details about the security at the Ministry headquarters. Riddle questioned each of them about various assignments and for whatever reason, dealt several of them a hefty Cruciatus.
Surprisingly enough, the meeting barely concerned him at all. He took a few moments to look around, after all he had never been in this part of the mansion. The ballroom was adequately large and airy, but with so few chandeliers lit, the tapering shadows made the room's size foreboding. The drapes were all shut and small spots of light reflected off of the highly polished floor tiles. Eventually, all of their attention remained on Lord Voldemort and his kneeling person became irrelevant. The rhythmic petting had calmed him considerably and he was able to clear away the remaining anxieties. Instead, he observed everybody and their demeanors. The general consensus was caution and some fear, but a select few gave off other impressions. Malfoy, for example was oddly composed and a tad amused. Strange. Two more of them seemed a little excited, about what, though, was anybody's guess.
Riddle gave them instructions and things to look into, nothing that seemed very pressing in Harry's opinion until the subject of new recruits was brought up. There was a nearly tangible tension in the air at the mention of sons and daughters to be made into new Death Eaters. If Harry understood the line of questioning, Riddle had been expecting one of them this evening but they were nowhere to be found.
"'Suspicious', you say? Your son's absence would be...'noted'?
A medium height hulking Death Eater stuttered a response, "H-he is with his relations in the south. If I...I were to bring him here, surely--"
"I suppose you might have thought of that before assuring me of his attendance tonight."
"I...he--"
"That is very unfortunate, Crabbe."
'Crabbe' shook his head in disbelief as Riddle raised his wand and muttered a burning curse. The stocky wizard began a round of gurgling screams but there was no physical evidence that anything was happening to him at all. It reminded Harry of the curse Riddle used on him on his first day in the mansion.
The curse carried on and so did Crabbe, dropping to his knees in agony. Riddle simply watched, as did the others in the room, until Harry noticed the fingers slowly tightening in his hair. The touches slowed and traveled down to his right ear where they lingered. At the realization that he was gradually growing hard, Harry's mind froze.
What if everyone saw?
So far most of them were caught up with Crabbe's reaction to the curse. A few watched Voldemort warily as if expecting him to curse the rest of them. Lucius, still exuding his air of confidence observed everyone, including the young wizard kneeling on the floor. And, another wizard - Snape - watched Harry as if he were the only other wizard in the ballroom.
Harry could feel him watching and suddenly his anger began to build. What did Snape care was happening to him at this point? It was his and the headmaster's fault that he was forced to stay with Riddle. Why should Snape be so concerned?
As his previous contempt resurfaced at the sight of Snape, Harry did something he thought would shell-shock his old professor and his Headmaster when he was informed of it - he looked the potion's master in what he assumed were his eyes and drew one of Riddle's fingers into his mouth.
It was suddenly as if the scene has been muted.
Crabbe, having passed out from the pain, lay motionless on the polished marble floor as the echoes of his screams died away. Snape and Lucius stiffened noticeably, the former exuding waves of disgust and surprise.
That's right, Snape, this is what you and Dumbledore have condemned me to. Funny thing is, it isn't as horrible as I thought it would be...
Riddle glanced down at the boy and his line of sight, his behavior suddenly well understood. The little imp was full of interesting ideas.
"I know what you're up to, boy, and while it's beautifully Slytherin of you, we do have an audience..."
He felt the boy pause and swallow before glancing at the rest of the room's occupants.
"You...want me to stop it then?"
"I want you to go up to my chambers and wait for me."
Potter's heart skipped a beat.
"Alright."
Wordlessly, Riddle removed his hand and allowed the boy to stand. Woodenly, he headed for the door, turning at the sounds of Parseltoungue.
"You'd do well to ask Wodie for assistance this time.."
Coloring a little, he answered in kind, "Of course....sir."
He left with the feeling of over a dozen pairs of eyes on his back and the realization that the exchange must have seemed very provocative using the snake language and all. Harry assumed Riddle knew this and was hoping it would seem that way. Or was it?
He was being sent to his 'chambers'. What did that mean?
Merlin, you KNOW what it means. Jeeze...and I was only trying to piss Snape off...
Harry took some relief in the fact that the meeting wasn't as horrible as he thought it would be.
Wodie was only a call away, and in no time they were magically whisked away to a third-story hall with a large pair of oak doors at the end. The only problem that left was exactly where on the third story they were.
Figures, he thought. He wondered if he was supposed to stay out in the hall or actually wait inside. There was the thick feeling of wards on the doors, as was expected on the doors to Lord Voldemort's 'chambers' but they didn't seem to be barring his way. And sure enough, when he tried the knob it gave silently.
The doors opened to a den with stained glass windows and richly carved furniture. There was a large desk on his right and a fireplace across the room. Bookshelves, end tables....this certainly wasn't what Harry had been expecting. The young wizard colored to think of exactly what he'd been expecting.
Merlin, why couldn't he make up his mind? Back in the library he wanted nothing more but for Riddle not to let go. The older wizard's touch was so alluring despite what it was supposed to be like. By all means, he should be repulsed. But, thus far, Riddle hadn't done too much to disgust Harry. Once their arrangement had been settled, there were no more burning curses or Unforgivables. He was even teaching the boy.
So why the butterflies?
Harry chose to sit in an armchair by the lifeless fireplace. The room wasn't cold, but it was particularly cool for a third-story chamber in the middle of summer. There were a few candles lit, probably by Wodie, that made the room more comforting than it probably should have been for Lord Voldemort's den.
Harry supposed he was still unsure of himself. His body wanted all sorts of things from the older wizard that his mind couldn't quite fathom. Riddle seemed at least mildly curious about him sexually, if the kiss was any clear indication. But what could he possibly have to offer the Dark Lord in that department? He certainly didn't think he was anything special to look at Plus, his sexual experiences were sadly limited to the few hormonal gropings he participated in the locker rooms. There had been no girls to speak of after Cho, and while he got 'urges' now and then, he certainly never acted on them.
He caught mental wind of Riddle's magic moving about somewhere far off in the mansion and thought perhaps the gathering was finally over. A clock above the mantle indicated that it was some time after one in the morning. Thanks to his nap, he wasn't as tired as he should have been at that hour. He noticed an object on the desk - a book - with the place marked by a red ribbon.
Julius Caesar. Why a muggle book would interest the Dark Lord so much was beyond Harry, but he went over to skim through the marked page. He knew the basic plot of the play already, and it seemed Caesar hadn't been murdered yet. He read a little into the act before he could feel Riddle approaching the den with company. The wards on the door skewed his perception a bit and would have to wait till they were opened to know who was with him.
He set the book down and tried to decide where to put himself. He settled on kneeling a bit away from the door (one couldn't go wrong with simply kneeling, after all) and tried to appear calm when the door opened. Riddle entered and took a seat near the fireplace, followed by Lucius. Harry paled.
"Potter, fetch us some Scotch from behind the desk."
"Yes, sir."
"Use the short glasses and fill them a third of the way."
Having accomplished that much, Harry handed them their glasses. Lucius accepted his with a small sneer and took a sip.
"Where should I..."
"Right here," Riddle answered, indicating the space beside his chair.
Harry knelt yet again beside the Dark Lord and nearly sighed when slender fingers found their way into his hair. If they kept this up, he thought he might melt into a puddle at Riddle's feet.
"My Lord, you've trained the boy very well, if you don't mind my saying so."
"These things are never very difficult. One need only know where to begin."
"It is satisfying to see the great Harry Potter finally where he belongs. I knew it would only be a matter of time, My Lord."
"'Satisfying' would be a bit of an understatement, Lucius. But yes, it was always a simple matter of time."
He set his glass down with soft thud, a dangerous glimmer behind his eyes.
"Now Lucius, do tell me where you're son disappeared to this evening. I haven't forgotten your promise to bring him round."
Harry couldn't see Malfoy's face but he seemed to become anxious at the mention of his son.
"I thought I'd let him rest up a bit more before undergoing the initiation. It is rather...trying...if I remember mine correctly."
Riddle took his time, swirling his scotch and tangling his fingers in Harry's dark locks. Slowly a smirk formed on his smooth face.
"Yes. Yours was particularly strenuous. I often wondered if you had what it took to follow me."
Lucius hesitated at the admission. "Surely now you--"
"Sometimes I still wonder."
"...My Lord?'
"You'll bring him to the next gathering Lucius. No excuses, or you'll fair worse than dear Crabbe. Is that clear?
"Yes...Yes, of course, My Lord. I only mean what is best for Draco."
"You'll do well to mind your own skin, Malfoy, or your son will be the least of your concerns. Wodie will see you out," he claimed with an air of dismissal. He waved a hand and the doors opened to reveal the house-elf waiting nervously. Lucius bowed respectfully and took his leave as he was ordered, not failing to send Harry a nasty look.
With Lucius gone, the room was all too quiet. Riddle's hand was still nestled gently in the boy's locks as his strokes became thoughtful.
"I'm assuming you took notes on what's transpired this evening."
"Yes."
"Then you have a reasonable idea of what we are dealing with?"
We?
"What do you mean?"
Riddle abruptly stood and began to pace. His tone, more than his words, made Harry feel as if he was missing the painfully obvious.
"Did you learn nothing from their behavior? Lucius' countenance?"
Harry wracked his confused brain.
"Well.....he's..."
The older wizard watched the boy, arms crossed expectantly.
".......stalling?"
Riddle continued to pace.
"Yes, he is, and he isn't alone, if you haven't noticed. Now why do you suppose that is?"
Harry didn't know Lucius to any great extent, but the man was a notorious conspirator. He'd orchestrated the whole 'Chamber of Secrets' charade from behind the scenes, after all.
"Maybe he's just buying himself time. You know, to try something."
Riddle stopped pacing.
"Indeed. And we all know what bad apples do to the proverbial bunch."
Potter began wondered when this had become an issue that concerned him as well but let it slide for the time being. The more pressing matter seemed to be that once again, Riddle was watching him with the most considering expression.
"But that's a matter for another time."
"......Come here."
The mental command startled him and it was a moment before he moved to respond.
"Your behavior this evening was most...intriguing," Riddle began softly. He carefully slid the backs of his fingers down the boy's face, enjoying the way Harry's breath quivered in response. "It does leave one wondering whether or not you ever consider the consequences."
"...Sir?"
Riddle let out a short grunt of frustration.
"I'll hear no more of this 'sir'. I'm not one of your misfit professors."
His reaction confused Harry to some degree. If it was pissing him off so much, why didn't he say anything sooner? Nevertheless, Potter acquiesced. Riddle pulled the younger wizard to him till they were flush against each other. Potter let out a small noise of surprise.
"So what is it you really want, Potter? Is this it?" he asked in a tone that went straight to Harry's groin. Fingers slowly trailed down his spine and back up to the nape of his neck. Crimson irises caught the light of a nearby candle giving them depth the boy thought he might drown in.
Harry didn't think he could move if his life depended on it.
Riddle grinned inwardly at the boy's reaction. Harry was so surprisingly responsive to his touch. He didn't want to rush the younger wizard, especially since the results could be disastrous. But so far he seemed so willing.
Still, better to test him a little more.
Caressing the bare nape of Potter's neck, Riddle guided him over to the ebony desk and leaned the boy against it. He allowed his lips to hover over the skin of Harry's neck. When he spoke, little puffs of breath tickled the sensitive flesh.
"Are you truly prepared for this? Because now would be the time to inform me."
He finally kissed the neck, trailing his lips lightly down to the collar of Harry's shirt.
"Nnnh. Yes," he breathed in response. Riddle took note of the boy's hardness developing between them.
He's aching for this...but why go easy on him?
"I don't think you are. The-Boy-Who-Lived getting off on Lord Voldemort....who could believe you?"
Oh, it was cruel and Riddle knew it.
Harry was completely speechless. His skin tingled, his erection strained against his trousers...what could he say to convince him?
"I think you're just curious. You don't really want this, do you Potter?" He slid his hands under the boy's shirt feeling him tense at his cold touch.
Harry nodded furiously. Why didn't he believe him?
"Um, I think not."
Suddenly, Harry grabbed one of Riddle's wrists and pulled his hand down to his erection, moaning at the contact. Riddle was amused but the boy's desperation. It was true - he was being a terrible tease, but why not make the boy work for it?
"So you are ready...physically. But...what of my desires? Do you expect me to simply act on your lust?"
"No.....but....."
Riddle shook his head. "Lesson one: if you want something from me, you'll have to truly work for it."
He pulled back and smoothed his robes. Harry, panting, watching him back away in disbelief.
"You may return to your room now." And just like that, the spell was broken. Riddle collected the book from his desk and headed for a door to the right of the fireplace. "Don't forget your assignments. I plan on discussing them with you in a day or so."
Harry watched him disappear behind the door wordlessly. So that was it. All of that just to leave him high-and-dry. He felt a scream building inside of him as he lingered in the room. 'Work for it'? How? He'd barely been able to breathe over there. How could Riddle do such a--
Wait...this is Voldemort. Of course he'd 'do such a thing'. Working Potter into a state of impossible arousal was just the sort of thing he'd do before leaving him hanging. Harry didn't know why he didn't expect it.
I'll just have to make him want it as well, he decided on his way out into the hall. He purposely failed to summon Wodie for directions. After all, he'd need a good wander to work off his arousal before returning to his room where sleep would be hard coming.
A.N:
Now i know why they call it 'foreplay' - it's so much fun! =) Sorry if the chapter title misled anyone...but it just happens to be six in roman numerals..couldn't help it . I'm glad you're generally enjoying the fic. Your reviews are great as well as your suggestions and commentary. About the ministry and all that...I intended to leave the 'good side' out of the story as much as possible so that i could play around with H&V some more. I left Snape in because he serves dual purposes: interaction with the good side and well.....your find out the other role later.
Srry for the wait...but i'm taking my time with it. Gotta keep it constant, ya know?
I re-loaded all the other chapters with more corrections....hopefully it clears up any confusion.