VIII

......................

"I don't know what he's playing at, Albus, but he doesn't know what he's dealing with."

"Be calm, Severus. I do think it's a bit early to draw conclusions."

Snape fixed the headmaster with a pointed stare.

"'Calm'? The Dark Lord has done something to him."

Albus returned the pointed stare.

"The boy is angry, and hurt."

There was a brief pause.

"Hurt? What I saw had nothing to do with hurt. The Dark Lord is making him--"

Snape stopped abruptly and slowly looked away from the expectant headmaster.

"Yes, Severus?"

His voice was soft and grave.

"I'm afraid it may be too late to say the Dark Lord won't hurt him."

"What makes you think that he has?"

"During the gathering..." the professor's voice faded for a moment as he searched for the least uncomfortable way to say what needed to be said. "I think the Dark Lord may be using the boy for...sexual gratification."

There was a long and empty silence.

The headmaster's expression didn't change, but for some reason it seemed the lines on his face deepened. He sat down slowly at his desk, all at once appearing to be all of his one-hundred plus years.

"You're certain?"

"There wasn't physical proof, but my observations point in that direction."

Dumbledore nodded, blindly grabbing a lemon-drop from a jar on his desk. He failed to offer Snape one, and he wondered if the headmaster was simply too preoccupied or had finally acknowledged his dislike for them.

"I suggest we send a message to Lucius and prompt him about the plan. It seems we may need to end this sooner than we originally anticipated."

Severus nodded tersely, glad that the headmaster had required no further details on the matter.

.. .. ..

Riddle disappeared into the cellar with an order for Harry to bathe and eat before coming to his chambers. The boy was still carrying waves of anger as he climbed the stairs. He hated how Riddle confused him. To crave the touch of a man who had only previously given him reason to hate him, it was maddening. The man purposely incited him...and then pulled back the moment he responded to it. It was now obvious that Riddle was only toying with him.

He had to be!

It made perfect sense, Harry decided wryly. He shoved open the door to his room only taking note that the charms on his drapes had been removed. What he did to earn a view was beyond him at the present moment. The sun was just beginning its descent, tinting the room a calming blue. He glanced at the bathroom and the way to the shower but chose the bed instead. The bed protested his weight with a little squeak as he collapsed onto it.

For the first time since he was brought to Riddle's keeping and told help wasn't coming, he truly wished for the school... a friend... anything that could be considered 'familiar ground'. Snape had probably treated the headmaster to all sorts of conclusions to his behavior at the gathering. Maybe Dumbledore had given up planning altogether. It wasn't exactly as if Snape came by regularly to keep him posted...he had no way of knowing either way what Dumbledore was doing.

It didn't matter anyway. They failed him., and like he'd decided days ago, this was solely his situation to deal with. The main problem seemed to be the Dark Lord's intentions. Quite frankly - not being able to properly understand a person seriously rankled in Riddle's case. The Dark Lord was messing with his feelings - that was for sure. But why? Harry hardly believed he did it simply because it was 'fun', as he put it. The man was just too complicated for that.

Perhaps Riddle wanted something from Harry's end. The previous night, he'd insinuated that if the boy wanted something from him, then he had to earn it or...

...Do you expect me to simply act on your lust?...

.....make the older wizard want it as well.

Harry slowly sat up with the words repeating themselves inside his head. He suddenly felt enlightened.

It was a challenge, and Harry had gone about it the wrong way that day in the enchanted forest. Riddle wanted him to work for it indeed. Well, if that was the case, he could deliver. But he knew he still needed to talk to Riddle. Actually talk and ask some prudent questions.

Riddle's aura began to move, leaving the cellar once more. Harry hurried to the shower, realizing the Dark Lord would be waiting on him soon. He wasn't sure what he was going to do about the way things were going, but he prepared himself to be observant.

.. .. ..

Harry severely lacked the appetite for the mountain of food awaiting him in the dining room. He picked at some fruit and bread but ate nothing substantial before heading up to Lord Voldemort's chambers. He had to feel his way there without Wodie whisking him away. Riddle's magic was rather easy to follow for it took no real effort at all to locate. Harry carried is wand out of habit and hoped it didn't seem like a defensive gesture. He probably couldn't do much with it even if he did need it for some reason - the charms on it were so strong that they made his palm itch.

Paranoid bastard....

"You really ought to curb your thoughts until you learn how to cloak them."

Harry started and ground his teeth at the unexpected invasion of his thoughts.

"You could quit reading them..."

"........Your cheek is astounding for someone in your situation."

The doors opened as he approached them. Riddle's back was turned as he fished through a book at the bookcase.

"Exactly what is my situation?"

Riddle finally set the book down and turned to face the young wizard.

"You are my charge. And as such, you are under my command." He watched Potter's expression change as he absorbed the words. "Set your wand on my desk and come here. We'll be working with wandless magic."

That peeked Harry's interest more than the mind control. With wandless magic, anything was possible. At Hogwarts, they stuck to mostly wand magic for fear of personal injury. It was safer to use a focal point or instrument to harness raw magical power. But wizards like the Dark Lord, it seemed, didn't need the safety net.

And me neither, I hope....

As Riddle seemed to ponder what they should try first, Harry glanced involuntarily at his wand abandoned there on the oak desk. It was funny how he never really saw the Dark Lord use his wand much these days. Things just sort of happened without him having to even wave a hand. Meanwhile, Harry had heard ghastly stories of attempts that left ordinary wizards with magical burns or in coma's. The ease at which wandless magic worked for Riddle was truly something to behold.

"Place your hand on my chest and attempt to shove me with your magic."

Harry stared dumbly for a full second before he moved to comply. His hand shook slightly as he rested it on the smooth cloth of Riddle's shirt. The warmth seeping through the cloth surprised him for some reason. The Dark Lord was indeed alive, but it still seemed strange for his heart to be beating and circulating warm blood like everybody else's.

Not really knowing how else to go about it, Harry chanted over and over in his head while hoping for it to work.

Blasthimblasthimblasthimblasthim......

"You're joking, right?"

Harry stopped abruptly.

"You've already forgotten what I tried to explain back in the forest. You've just got to use more force behind your spells, especially with wandless magic, which is solely dependent on your will."

Riddle collected both of Harry's hands in his and closed his eyes for a brief moment. Suddenly Potter began to grow warm. He could feel something rising inside of him...something nearly tangible. It was being pulled, no dragged from a fathomless depth within him. It almost hurt. His breath quickened and a dull roar, like blood rushing through veins, filled his ears.

"Wha.....are you..."

"Your power Potter. It's time you take proper control over it."

Riddle let go of him and the strange sensations inside of him quieted. Panting, Harry seized Riddle with a bewildered expression.

"What....did you just do?"

"I brought a fraction of your power to the surface. When attempting to 'blast' a wizard off his feet, that is what you hurl at him. Not hopes and pleas."

That had been only a fraction of his power? It felt like a hurricane was brewing inside of him and was on the brink of being released before Riddle pulled back. He knew he had powers within....but the magnitude...

And what of Riddle? Surely it was nothing he couldn't handle if here he was teaching the boy how to use it.

"Try again."

Harry took a few extra deep breaths and placed his hand on Riddle's chest again. He closed his eyes, for that seemed to help him concentrate, and started searching. All of that power had to come from somewhere and he was going to find it. Riddle was patient while the boy searched for the force necessary to complete the task. Harry's face was contorted with concentration, his brow twitching now and then. It wasn't long before Riddle could sense the stirrings of a rise of power. It budded as the boy tapped into it and grew as he nurtured it. His hand trembled slightly on Riddle's chest as he summoned his true magic.

Suddenly his eyes flew open and Riddle was hit with a swirl of tinted magic force. He stumbled but didn't fall. Judging from the force of the blast, had he been any other wizard he would have been knocked unconscious.

Needless to say, Harry was out of breath and a little tired from the exertion.

"Very impressive."

Harry paused mid-breath.

Did he just say he was impressed?

"That wasn't even all of your power. Now that I've seen what sort of power we're dealing with we'll soon be moving on to more taxing spells."

Riddle guided him through a few basics like summoning items or levitating them. It was tricky but he could tell he was getting the hang of it. The older wizard seemed energized by the activity. They worked on spell after spell, only pausing for questions and explanations.

It was invigorating for Harry, to say the least. His hands tingled from the usage of raw magical power...his breath came in tired pants...

...but he was learning.

Riddle didn't coddle, but he was patient and very clear with his instruction. He tended to make spells look easy when, in fact, they were rather difficult. For instance, he demonstrated a fire spell on a log in the hearth. All he did was aim his palm at the dry wood and a ball of flame leapt from it.

After his first attempt, Harry needed curing charms for his painfully blackened palm.

But, like the other spells, he got the hang of it. It was late by the time Riddle allowed a break. Harry was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to sleep where he sat - against the armchair Riddle was presently occupying. The hearth had been effectively lit during their lesson and now the flamed danced erratically before them. In combination with the fingers in his hair, Harry's lids began to droop.

"I think with some more work you'll be ready to practice dueling."

He blinked the developing sleepiness away.

"With you, you mean."

"Unless you think one of the houselves would suffice..."

Harry shook his head a little, too tired to do much else. He'd dueled with the Dark Lord before and couldn't remember it being very pleasant. But these were completely different circumstances...it was almost as if Riddle was another person, which brought him to the 'talk' he'd planned on having.

"I should ask you something."

"......Go on."

"Sixteen years ago, what made you do what you did?"

So it was that question. Only a matter of time before they got around to it really. Riddle stopped caressing the boy's hair and summoned a glass of Brandy.

"I had a goal to obtain. Certain....obstacles had to be removed. It wasn't personal...initially."

He sipped from his glass, taking a moment for thought. The boy was quiet, obviously mulling over his next words.

"You never regret any of it?"

The boy's voice hadn't been sorrowful or wistful as the words indicated. It seemed he truly wanted to know.

"No, not regret. Things happen they way they're meant to. Perhaps I would like to have known then what I know now. But I don't suppose it would change anything. You'd still be Harry Potter....and I'd still be the Dark Lord."

"I might still have my parents."

"And some other child might not." Riddle turned to him, growing slightly agitated. "If you're feeling bitter, do realize it always could have been worse."

"You mean because of what your father did to you? Is that really what started all of this?"

He couldn't see Riddle's face, but he felt the beginnings of the burning curse he used on him the first day. It died away before becoming painful. When Riddle spoke again, his voce was restrained.

"In a manner of speaking....perhaps. Perhaps not. Perhaps it all would have been the same no matter how my disgraceful father reacted. As I said, things happen the way they are meant to. If you planned on dwelling on it, perhaps you should have chosen the other option instead of allowing me to instruct you."

Riddle had sort of eluded the question but his last words needed addressing.

"No. It wasn't my intention to start an argument. And no, I don't want the 'other option'. I just needed to know before....before anything happened."

"Well, then I will say this: I simply had a goal and methods that many did not agree with. Those who stood in the way had to be removed...they were warned. If they continued to oppose me, they bore the consequences."

Harry could understand that...from a semi-evil yet objective wizard's point of view, but he'd never agree. No one should have their parents taken away no matter how unfortunate Riddle's childhood had been. He stood up causing the older wizard to glance at him.

"So what changed your mind about me?"

"I was much younger then...and a bit reckless. Let's just say I've learned not to be wasteful."

Something in that sentence sent an odd feeling through the younger wizard. It was a simplified version of the truth, of that he was almost certain. But he wasn't sure what to make of that explanation.

Riddle watched the boy mull over his words, the most peculiar expressions flashing across his young face. His thoughts flew by in a blur of uncertainty and hesitancy - about what, Riddle didn't bother to guess. Instead, he caught the boy with a question of his own.

"So, what changed your mind?"

Harry stared blankly for a mere second before his brows furrowed angrily.

"What makes you think that I have? Because I agreed to learn from you what I can't from anyone else?"

Riddle waved the notion away dismissively. As he stood, his brandy glass disappeared silently. He waved a hand at the fire to lower it's flame to a gentle flickering. Harry watched his movements cautiously, Riddle taking thoughtful note of his fear. Potter almost trusted him, but he was simply too confused by the past to do so. Understandably so, too. But Riddle had meant what he said about being reckless...he would have handled to situation more delicately had he a glimpse of the future.

Nevertheless, he stood there in the present with an anxious seventeen-year-old Harry demanding explanations. Riddle heaved a mental sigh.

"Don't....be silly. I did grow up in Slytherin House. Learning from your enemies is basic protocol for even the first years."

The older wizard turned away from the fire and calmly sauntered over to the boy. The boy barely flinched as Riddle raised his fingers to his overgrown locks. With the first stroke the boy's tense muscles began to relax.

So wonderfully responsive....

"You see, this would never have been a possibility had you not changed your mind in some way," he declared softly, indicating their contact. "I'll not ask you to explain it...I suppose that isn't necessary. But I do want you to acknowledge it." He lifted the boy's chin so that he might see his eyes...such vivid green eyes.

"We aren't where we once were."

Indeed they were not.

"If nothing else, I will wait until you are sure of this."

Riddle lingered a moment before beginning to pull back. This time, however, Harry tugged him back, his mouth landing where it was level - his neck. The boy left no time for Riddle to react, pulling him even closer and nibbling on the skin of his neck.

He refused to think of what he was doing lest he lose his only nerve. Mimicking Riddle's actions from the previous night, he pulled the older wizard so close that their pelvises were flush against one another. This way his mouth could reach the other wizard's chin without having to stand on tiptoe - Riddle was a full head taller than him, after all.

Harry rested a hand on the other's chest, his hand instantly remembering the warmth through the fabric. He thought perhaps he imagined Riddle's heart beating faster, because there was still no outward reaction to his ministrations. Mentally, he had been silent as well, imparting no clue as to how he was reacting to this. He kissed his way back around to the area beneath Riddle's chin, suckling lightly, licking...anything to get a reaction.

Merlin...this is wrong. I'm don't know what the hell I'm doing!

As a pit formed in his stomach, he slowly ceased and began to pull himself away. This wasn't going to be good.

"Giving up so soon? Pity..."

Riddle pulled them back together and claimed Harry's lips none too gently. The boy made a noise in his throat, likely one of surprise, but Riddle ignored it. Potter had obviously made up his mind and finally Riddle thought he might take advantage of the fact. He knew the boy's lips would soon be bruised. But then, the boy would need some reminders after the fact. He ran his fingertips down the boy's arms, allowing his nails to catch and snag the fabric.

"I do hope you're as ready as you think you are..."

Harry moaned as Riddle moved to his throat. His tongue was warm and slick on his skin...sensations that only heightened his sensitivity. Riddle grasped both sides of the boy's collar and pulled the front of Harry's shirt apart to expose his chest. Of course all he needed to do was wave a hand to have the boy completely naked. But there was just something stimulating about the urgent sound of buttons popping.

Long, slender fingers caressed Potter's chest slowly. He pressed his thumbs into his nipples and then dragged them down the pink nubs. Harry arched into him sharply with a soft inhalation. It hurt and there would probably be red streaks there for a while, but it was so exquisite. Riddle's hands were firm and hot on his skin, caressing and grabbing erratically. He whispered words now and then - mental speech, Parseltoungue...anything, but Harry could honestly remember naught of it.

Somehow Harry could feel the oak desk pressing into his back, which was odd because he couldn't recall consciously moving from the fireplace. Riddle urged his body back onto the polished surface and his wand rolled off onto the carpet with a thud.. Bearing over him, the older wizard could feel the hardness pressing up from Harry's trousers. The boy's eyes opened searchingly as he grasped for Riddle's collar. The latter, however, pulled back enough to be out of his reach. While this was indeed about pleasure...it was also about discipline.

Red eyes flashing a quick warning, the Dark Lord moved around to the side of the desk so that he might stand over Potter as a surgeon would his patient. Catching the hint, the younger wizard tried his best to be calm and still, though the blood rushed through his body to his groin. Riddle covered a pert nipple with his mouth and reached down to stroke the bulge in Harry's pants. Harry bucked into it involuntarily and had to fight the urge to do it again when Riddle paused.

When he was sure the boy could control himself he continued, sucking hard on the sensitized nub of flesh. The boy's breathing came in short gasps as he strained to remain still. He was doing rather well considering how much he was obviously aching for the contact.

Moving to the other nipple he began to unfasten the boy's pants...slowly, of course. He reached in until he came in contact with the bothersome flesh that was his erection. Harry gasped the moment his hand brushed against it and nearly bucked off the desk when his hand closed around it.

Riddle paused again to let the boy calm down a little. His forehead was beginning to dampen with his efforts to lie still. The effect his touch had on the boy was truly inspiring. He knew he'd enjoy making the boy cry out for him, as ironic as it would be. Harry's breathing slowed and his lids fluttered open over unfocused pupils. He was so painfully hard and at that point, one more touch might very well send him over the edge. And the sad thing was, the other wizard didn't seem to be hard at all yet. The look he sent the Dark Lord was truly one of concern.

"I'm going to come soon..."

"Yes...?"

"...But...you--"

Stroke.

"I...?"

"You...haven't...even--"

Stroke.

Harry moaned loudly, his back arching off the desk. Riddle continued to bring him off until he was spent. Meanwhile, Harry lay motionless, save for the deep rise and fall of his chest.

"Harry?"

No answer.

"Harry?"

No answer.

With a quick roll of the eyes, Riddle took one of Potter's limp hands and they disappeared with a 'pop'.

.. .. .. ..

A.N:

=)

They aren't fin quite yet...but the chapter was getting too long.....

I tried to keep everyone's reviews in mind when writing this..tho i promised myself not to let everyone tug me in different directions with this fic...lol

Srry...if you aren't happy with this chapter..i sorta tried it different ways but this was the best i could come up with. You even got a glimpse of the 'good' side! (for SheWolfe, snicker snicker)

Miao, dear, of course your review wasn't mean..lol! It was something i had been warring with since i imagined the outcome of the fic and your review made me think now was as good a time as any to start clearing that up. See how helpful comments can be?

About the previous chapter....i meant the apparition lesson and the wand to be sorta b-day gifts...but i don't suppose it came off that way..teehee.

I'm seriously trying to keep the ball rolling but i may just have a few too many things going on. Keep the reviews/comments coming (hehe) and i'll keep working. Thnx again!