Hey! It's me again, with my new story! :D This is NOT a prequel or sequel to Taming Thomas, it's a complete standalone, but the topics are...similar lol.
So basically, the story is set at the beginning of the 4th year, no Triwizard Tournament, Moody did not get transformed, and Lupin teaches Defense again. The Lord is back, but in a slightly different...manner.
I had to shorten my summary, sooo I will copy paste the one I am using for AO3, cause it's longer.
SUMMARY: 4th year. The Founders are back, desperately searching for some magical artefacts in a race against time- and against Dumbledore. Sirius Black becomes an unwilling helper in their plan, being de-aged and forced to attend Hogwarts once more- but this time under the mercilessly surveillance of the Founder's primly oldest son, who pretends to be his loving older brother in public, but tortures him creatively in private. Voldemort is the only one who suspects that there is more to the Founder's sudden reappearance, but exposing the Founders for who they really are can only backfire if Godric Gryffindor takes an sudden interest in discipling him and making sure no one will ever know what he found out- while teaching him what it really means to have a father. Father/ Son, H/C, WARNING: SPANKING/ CP.
There will be torture, and humiliation, and lots of CP, and spanking (a little later on) and I am planning to write 15 chapters, currently working on chapter 10.
The story is basically centered around the Father/ Son Relationship of Gryffindor and Tom (Voldemort) and the brotherly relationship between Sirius and Aurelius (OC) and later on, the Father/ Son Relationship between Gryffindor and Sirius, and Gryffindor and Aurelius.
None of the characters are very nice to each other in the beginning, and Sirius and Tom will get humiliated quite a lot- along with a lot of corporal punishment for both of them. BUT, there will be a HEA of course! :)
Hope you like it! :)
"Watch out!"
The warning came too late, just like always, and Peter Pettigrew stumbled, fell, and coughed, when the cloud of dust hit him directly.
Still coughing, he scrambled back on his feet, cleaning his ill- fitting jacket while he was silently cursing.
He hated his life. He hated everything about it, but most of all, he hated being Voldemort's servant.
He remembered how excited he had felt months ago, when they had finally found the right spell to bring their Master back- Snape had helped getting Potter's blood, and Lord Voldemort had returned and with him, most of the Death Eaters.
At first, everything had been quite normal- some robberies here, some kidnappings and tortures there, but very quickly, something had changed.
Voldemort had changed.
Since almost six weeks now, he could care less about the Death Eaters and the plan to finally take over the Ministry, they still met every night and Voldemort dutifully put on his snake persona and rambled for an hour about how evil Dumbledore and the Founders were and kept promising them some kind of top secret undercover mission to invade Hogwarts- but it never happened.
The Death Eaters were, except for Snape, Lucius Malfoy, the Lestrange's, and the Carrow siblings dumb as a rock, so they did not ask any questions and seemed satisfied with the money the robberies brought in, and Wormtail was in no position to ask questions anyways, which started to frustrate him.
The clopping got louder again, and Peter winced when the giant horse came to a halt right next to him.
"Still scared, Wormtail?", the voice was mocking him, and seconds later, a boy not older than fourteen easily jumped off the horse and ruffled through his sweaty brown hair with one hand.
He did not wear a helmet, he never did, just like he did not care for any kind of rules or restrictions.
"I…am not scared, Mylord", Peter forced himself to say, and the boy laughed, "could have fooled me", he carelessly threw the reins towards him, "here, take care of Thunder. I am starving- where's my lunch?"
Pettigrew suppressed the fact that it was already dinnertime, "your…lunch is waiting for you in the dining hall, Mylord."
The boy just nodded, turning around immediately, "make sure Thunder gets scrubbed, he went into the lake again!", he yelled from the front steps of the huge Mansion they were living in and with that- he was gone.
Peter grabbed the reins, desperately trying not to tremble. He hated all creatures that were bigger than a mouse, which was certainly based on the fact that he had lived as a rat for so long.
"Come…Thunder…", he nervously called and pulled the reins.
The giant horse whinnied, but followed him obediently, and Peter let out a deep breath.
Bitterness welled up inside him when he scrubbed down the enormous horse minutes later. He had hoped they would rule the wizarding world by now, he had hoped to finally get his revenge on Lupin and Black, but no- he was forced to spend his days serving a child, a boy, a goddamn little brat…
"I hate my life", he hissed and threw the sponge at Thunder's back, which left the giant horse relatively unimpressed, "I wish I never…this was all a fucking mistake!"
At the same time, Voldemort enjoyed a lavish lunch, which was technically dinner. Just like always, he did not bother with cutlery, but grabbed the steak with both hands and smeared the juice across his face.
He ate like a pig, but of course no one was suicidal enough to tell him that.
The house elves, half a dozen of them, stood around the dining hall, stone faced, while they were forced to listen to their Lord smack, slurp and burp, and usually, the unlucky elves who stood in the dining hall where the ones who had lost the daily drawing of straws in the kitchen.
"Hey you!"
All the elves winced at the same time, since Hey you could be anyone of them, their Lord had never cared to learn their names.
Finally, a small elf called Cricket dared to come forward, "ye…yes, Mylord?"
Voldemort licked his lips, "another steak, and more wine, and dessert. I want cake, and some truffles…oh yeah, and bring me some chocolate pudding!"
Cricket bent his head respectfully, "as you wish, Mylord."
Instead of saying thank you, Voldemort burped.
Cricket gladly escaped to the kitchen to order the food, he knew most of it would land in the trash, but they were too scared to remind him that their budget for food was rather tight- instead, the house elves had to eat leftovers or, if Voldemort invited the Death Eaters, barely nothing.
Minutes later, he and another elf called Dimmy carried the food into the dining hall.
"Your…steak, Mylord, and here…more wine…your dessert…and the pudding…", Cricket placed everything carefully on the table, but his Master merely frowned.
"That cake looks disgusting", he announced, "not even my horses would eat that crap. Trash it. And when did I order pudding, you idiot? I did not want pudding, I freakin hate pudding, you hear me?", he took a sip of his wine, "take that and this…all trash. Trash, understand? That means throw it out, don't you dare eating it yourself, my house elves don't eat trash."
No, the house elves don't eat anything, Cricket wanted to say, but as always, he held his tongue and nodded, "as you wish, Mylord."
"Get lost then, I am going to bed. I want some real cake in my bedroom in five minutes, cake that actually looks good."
Cricket saw Dimmy next to him tremble, he knew the other elf took pride in his cakes, and he had worked hard for the cake that would land in the trash now, "as you wish, Mylord."
Again, no thank you, Voldemort simply got up and left the room, his half eaten food still on the table.
Pettigrew came back this very moment, drenched in sweat from scrubbing Thunder, and when Voldemort saw the look on his face, he smiled scornfully, "had a good time cleaning horse shit? You smell like shit yourself, Wormtail. Go clean up."
Peter blushed with shame, how humiliating it was to be called out like this by a boy, a kid that was smaller than him- and besides, his Lord did not care much for personal hygiene either, he took a shower whenever he felt like it- which was about twice a week. He never brushed his hair, and it did not bother him the slightest to wear the same clothes for three days straight- and he had the nerve to tell him to clean up?
How he wished he could give him a piece of his mind, just once, just five minutes…
Cowardly as he was, he bent his head instead, "yes, Mylord."
"And call that meeting off- I don't feel like talking to the Death Eaters tonight. Tell them I am working on the secret mission."
There is no secret mission! Peter wanted to scream, but again, he just bent his head in silent agreement, "yes, Mylord. Should I…have them come tomorrow then? Same time?"
Voldemort shrugged, "whatever. I have to see if I am in the mood. If the weather is good tomorrow, I will go for a long ride, I might not be back until the early morning", he turned around, signaling Peter that their conversation was over.
"Goodnight, Mylord", Pettigrew called after him, but Voldemort, as always, did not bother to reply.
He slowly walked up the stairs, the Mansion they were staying at was enormous, but also quite neglected. The owners, an elderly couple, had been too overwhelmed with keeping it up, which was the reason for the dust, the leaks, and the peeled off paint.
Getting them out of here had not been a problem- a few torture spells by the Carrow's had send them on their way, screaming and wailing and promising to never come back, which the Carrow's had regretted, they had clearly wanted to kill them.
He did not care about the pitiful state of the house- all he cared about was a bed to sleep in, a functioning bathroom and enough food on the table. That the house elves were suffering in an old, barely working kitchen and had to sleep in rooms with no heat did not bother him much.
Yawning, he opened the door to his room. Logically, he had picked the biggest and nicest bedroom for himself, while Peter slept in one of the guest rooms, the other guest rooms were reserved for the Death Eaters, even though none of them had ever used them.
There was a stunning looking cake sitting on his nightstand, and he walked over, stuck a finger in it, and licked it, "chocolate mousse", he mumbled, grinning, "at least that does not taste like crap."
He glanced in the mirror as he went over to his desk, and took a minute looking at the handsome boy who was staring back at him.
The spell had worked- but not perfectly. He was not the Voldemort his Death Eaters remembered; the snake illusion was just that- an illusion. In reality, he was a fourteen year old boy, thanks to Potter's fourteen year old blood which Snape had somehow gotten from him.
Obviously, no one knew that the snake illusion was the illusion- the Death Eaters never saw him running around as a boy, and Pettigrew and the elves believed that his fourteen year old image was an illusion that he used to confuse the Aurors, just in case anyone would attack the Mansion.
He had found out very quickly that the spell had also mentally transformed him back to his fourteen year old self- but this time, he had been determined to actually enjoy himself.
In his earlier life, he had been a serious, studious and ambitious kid- and for what? He had not one good memory from his childhood, not even one.
This time, he did what he had always wanted to do- he spent most of his time outside, swimming, rock climbing, running, and horseback riding, he got up whenever he felt like it, he ate and drank what he wanted, he went to bed when he wanted, and no one was there to tell him what to do- that was the best part. He was free.
He smiled at his image, not bothered at all by his sweaty, messy hair, his dirty clothes or the mix between sauce and chocolate mousse on his face, it all just showed how truly free he really was.
Humming, he took a seat at his desk and opened the drawer.
He knew Wormtail did not believe that there was a secret mission, or any mission- he was sure Pettigrew and Snape and Malfoy and some others thought he was just blabbering about that every night and that he did not give a shit about ruling the wizarding world anymore- well, they were in for a shock.
Grinning, he took out some documents.
"Now, Gryffindor", he mumbled, "what's that you are planning?"
"Would you like some more tea?"
"Yes, please", the boy was holding out his tea cup and smiled thankfully when he poured the tea in, "thank you, Father."
"You are welcome, Aurelius", he was looking at his son quizzically, "now tell me, how are your studies going?"
"Very well, I found some more books that turned out to be helpful for us", Aurelius answered and carefully took a sip of his tea, "I do believe that our plan is perfect."
He smiled fondly, "I believe so as well- Salazar, some tea?", he turned around to his partner who had just entered the living room where they usually took their five o' clock tea.
"Yes, thank you, I could need some", the Slytherin seemed stressed, but he was smiling when he took a seat on the couch next to Aurelius, "that conference has been going on forever again- Dumbledore just never seems to find the end of something."
"You are a saint for putting up with him", Aurelius remarked, "do you think it is working, though?"
Salazar sighed, "it is hard to tell- whenever I feel like I am getting closer to him, he takes a step back, and I still cannot say if it is because I am a Slytherin or not."
"Dumbledore is biased, always has been", Gryffindor answered, "well, Aurelius will take over soon- hopefully with more luck."
"And how is your search going?", Salazar asked, and Godric frowned, "still nothing- it is frustrating", he got up and walked over to the fireplace, where a fire was burning even though it was a mild September day, "I am starting to lose my patience soon- Aurelius, I am expecting you to get me results within the first weeks, you know that, right?"
The fifteen year old swallowed, and then nodded, "of course, Father. I…I won't disappoint you."
Godric gave him an approving smile, "I know you won't. You are perfect for the role."
Aurelius blushed. He was a handsome looking boy, currently dressed in a navy blue suit, which perfectly matched his dark blue eyes. He had brown hair, which was usually a little curly, but he always combed it so it looked neatly glued to his head. He took pride in his looks, and he never wore anything else than formal clothes.
"Thank you, Father", he eventually responded, "and if you don't mind me asking- how is everything going with Harry Potter?"
"Potter…another problem to solve", Gryffindor suddenly looked grim, "it would be easier to solve without that useless godfather of him snooping around."
"He is a dog, what do you expect?", Aurelius curled his lips in disgust, "can't we get rid of him somehow?"
"Unlikely", Salazar replied, "Dumbledore personally invited him to hide in Hogwarts- as you know, the Dementors are still looking for him. And with Lupin returning as a Defense teacher, he has another ally on his side."
There was a silence.
"You will have to tackle both Harry and Dumbledore, Aurelius", Gryffindor informed him finally, "and we will try to find a way to prevent Black from interfering."
"Both? I don't know if…", he did not dare to finish his sentence when he saw his father's face immediately darken, "care to repeat that, son? You don't know? You will get me results, and you will not like the consequences if you don't, are we clear?"
"Yes, Father", his voice sounded hollow, "I…I will."
Salazar kept glancing back and forth between them, a concerned look on his face, "your Dad does not mean it like that", he tried, "Godric, please, I know this is important, but…"
"We can't let Dumbledore win", Gryffindor interrupted him, "and Aurelius is old enough to stop acting like a scared little boy. That is all I have to say in this matter", he slammed his tea cup down, "I will be in the library- Aurelius, I am expecting you to study after dinner, and I want to see those books you found tomorrow morning."
"Yes, Father."
"Good", Godric got up, "time is ticking- and it is working against us."
And with that, he left.
"Hey Harry."
Harry looked up, a deep frown on his face, "Sirius…what are you doing here again? It's late."
His godfather just laughed carelessly, "so what? Can't I say goodnight to my godson anymore?"
Harry sighed, putting down the book that he had wanted to read, "of course you can. It's just…you come here almost every night, usually…after you had too many drinks…and…"
Like he had turned off a switch, the smile vanished from Sirius' face, "are you saying I am an alcoholic?"
Harry winced, "no…that is not what I meant…it's just…", he was desperately trying to search for words, but Sirius never let him finish, "Remus put you up to this, right?", he hissed, "I know you two are talking behind my back- and honestly, I don't give a damn what you are thinking about how much I drink- what else is there to do at this place anyways, what else, Harry?"
The Gryffindor stared at him, "you…are being unfair, Dumbledore…is taking a big risk for hiding you here, and…you are safe, you are…"
Sirius laughed again, and this time, it was pure scorn, "safe? I am caged in like an animal, that's what I am! I have nowhere to go, I am stuck at this…school, and while you get your education, and Remus gets to teach, what does that leave me with, Harry?"
The boy started to look distressed, "I…I don't know."
Not for the first time, he felt that Sirius was acting more like a child than he did, and he had no idea how to handle that.
"I can tell you what that leaves me with", Sirius' eyes were sparkling now, but it was not a friendly sparkle, it looked malicious, "tormenting Snivellus, sleeping, eating, and drinking- oh yeah, and wondering what the hell that Gryffindor asshole wants from you."
Harry blinked, "what…do you mean?"
Sirius snorted, "don't play dumb with me- that guy is always around you, bothering you…"
"Godric is not bothering me."
"It's Godric now, eh?", he was sneering "what does he want from you? I don't trust that guy."
"Are you…jealous or something?", Harry asked, confusion clear in his voice, "Godric is just being nice to me, and as his heir, I guess he is just interested in me, and he promised me to protect me from Voldemort, he…"
"Protect you from Voldemort? And how does the almighty Founder think to do that?", Sirius was laughing, now, but there was no happiness in it, "do you really believe all that bullshit? He can't protect you, just because he is a Founder and is able to time travel does not mean he is some kind of superhero."
Harry felt the anger rising inside him, "he is my friend and he treats me with more respect than you do!", he shot back, "all you think of is yourself lately, and your self-pity is really not helping, can't you see that? You are always in a bad mood, always drunk, and I don't…", he yelped in pain when Sirius' hand suddenly made contact with his face, and then, rubbing his quickly reddening cheek, he stared at his godfather, "you…you slapped me."
"I…I…did not…I was not…"
"Go."
"Wha…what?"
"I said go", Harry hissed, putting all of his force behind the last word, "get out. I don't want to see you right now. Leave me alone."
Sirius was staring at him, but when Harry did not move, he quietly turned around and left the dormitory, and made his way down the stairs.
All of the Gryffindors knew that he was hiding in Hogwarts, so he could move freely in the Common Rooms, and usually, the fourth graders went to bed a little later to give him and Harry time to talk- well, that had literally backfired today.
He went to one of the bathrooms, locked the door and stared at the walls for what felt like an eternity.
He knew deep down that he had messed up- but then, he always got so angry lately and could not control it…and the drinking only seemed to make it worse…but how was that his fault?
The Black groaned, debating his options. He was still mad at Harry if he was being honest- and he really did not feel like Harry deserved an apology from him, but Remus would freak out if he heard that he had slapped his precious Harry, so…
"I'll apologize and then I'll open that bottle of scotch I took from Snivellus", he mumbled to himself, and thinking about the scotch immediately made him feel better.
It was dark when he left the bathroom and made his way to the dorms, and there was no sound- except…
His heart suddenly started to beat faster, realizing that he was not alone.
Who is here? Who is in here with me?
All five boys seemed to be dead asleep, but he could feel the presence of someone, and it was a dark presence, a dangerous one- one he did not want to fight against.
And then, he saw him.
Fuck.
"Good evening, Black", Gryffindor did not bother to lower his voice, "what a strange coincidence to meet you here, at this time at night", his tone was cynical, "checking on your godson, I assume? Seeing if he is still in pain from your little…attack earlier?"
"You…bastard, what are you doing here? How dare you…"
Gryffindor laughed softly, "and I thought it might be difficult to get you- but here you are, and there is no Dumbledore to help, and no Remus Lupin…you are on your own, Sirius."
For some reason, the use of his first name scared him more than anything else Gryffindor had said.
He started to sweat, stumbling back, "leave…me alone…I will…tell…"
"No, Sirius, unfortunately for yourself, you won't tell- you will have to come with me now."
"No! No, this is crazy, I am not going anywhere with you, you will bring me back to Azkaban, you…"
"Certainly not- I have better plans for you than to rot in a cell, and that is very fortunate for you, don't you think?"
"Harry will…they will…ask questions, you…you can't…"
"Don't worry, I am prepared to answer all of their questions, Sirius."
He could not help it, he sobbed, "stop…calling me that, you sick bastard, you assho…"
"Petrificus Totalus!"
Gryffindor just smiled down at him, "that was the last time you have called me any kind of name, Sirius Black", he said, his voice pure ice, "you will obey me from now on, and the faster you understand that, the better for you."
He slowly pointed his wand at the Black one more time, and next thing he knew, they had apparated- right into his personal, never ending nightmare.
yep yep...now Sirius will have to suffer a little, and Tom is working on exposing the Founders- they are not as nice as they seem- or are they? :)
I would looooove some comments!
thank you!
Antonie :)