EDITED: 8/5/17


Meant To Be

Chapter 6

By mid-afternoon, Harry finally arrived at the main road of the Burrow. Despite being completely fine when he left Voldemort's manor that morning, his journey back was rough and left him haggard with scratches all over and rips and tears in his clothes. He had originally thought to just go home, but he knew it would be better to just come here. Plus he wasn't exactly thinking straight. He slumped against the door and knocked; the voices inside quieted and footsteps came close to the door.

"Who is it?" sounded Mrs. Weasley's voice.

"It's Harry," he croaked out.

"Harry!" she exclaimed. Harry heard her hand grab the door knob.

"Wait, Molly. We have to make sure," came her husband's voice, "Harry?"

"Yeah," he answered tiredly, pressing his face into the cool wood.

"What did the twins and Ron do the summer after your first year?"

Harry smiled in remembrance, "They took the flying car and broke me out of my bedroom at the Dursley's house, then brought me here."

There was a pause and the door unlocked and swung open. Mrs. Weasley took one look at him and gasped, "Harry! Oh, my…what happened?" she ushered him inside and hugged him tightly.

Harry immediately felt revulsion at the simple touch and wrenched himself out of her arms, crashing into the counter behind him. He gasped and put his hand to his side where his rib had collided with the edge of the hard surface.

Mrs. Weasley clasped her hands together, "Oh I'm sorry. Are you alright? Of course, you're not, look at you. We should take him to Hogwarts to see Poppy," she said quickly, directing her last statement to her husband.

"Yes. I'll alert Dumbledore," Mr. Weasley said and left the kitchen.

"Here sit down dear and rest for a bit. You must be exhausted!" Mrs. Weasley said to him.

Harry nodded and sat down gingerly at the deserted table, unconsciously wrapping his arms around himself, "Where is everyone?"

"Looking for you of course. Everyone's been in a right state since you didn't come back with everyone else."

Harry nodded again and stayed silent. He didn't ever want to talk about what happened, though he knew he would have to. But he knew one thing for sure; he was not going to say anything about that. Harry couldn't stand to think of what they would think of him if they found out what Voldemort had done to him, no matter that he couldn't control his actions.

Harry used the few minutes it took for Mr. Weasley to come back to make up a believable story with most of the truth, leaving out the majority of what happened last night. He was just fixing up the details when Mr. Weasley came back and said that they were waiting. And Harry was ready.

xxx

Harry sat completely still as Madame Pomfrey ran her wand over him to see if there was any internal damage, even though he had insisted there wasn't. He hoped to whatever God was out there that nothing showed up about…that. It seemed that his prayer had been heard because she found nothing and started rubbing a salve on his cuts. As she worked, Harry answered Dumbledore's questions.

"They didn't do anything to me though after they caught me, just locked me up in a dark room with no windows. Probably just to scare me, but I just waited for them to come back and open the door so I could get out. They didn't come back until morning and took me straight to Voldemort. To make it short, I got my wand back, we fought, I practically brought down the roof on all of them to escape and I made my way out of the house. Most of the cuts are from just running through the woods that surrounded the place or debris from the ceiling."

Harry took a deep breath as he finished. He tried not to flinch away from Madame Pomfrey as she rubbed the salve into his skin, but the more she touched him the harder it was to ignore the disgust coiling tighter in his stomach, as well as the prickly feeling where ever she touched that had nothing to do with the medicine. He was going to take a long hot shower after he got out of here, but he wasn't sure the dirty feeling would ever go away. But he would deal, just like he always did. What other choice did he have?

Harry shifted on the hospital bed and looked away from the penetrating gaze and waited for Dumbledore to say something. If it looked like the headmaster believed him, Harry couldn't tell. Even if he did know he was lying, Dumbledore didn't question his story further, much to Harry's relief. Besides it was not like he was completely lying it all really happened just like he said, he just…left something's out, that's all. He really hated doing that to him, but… He just couldn't tell him the truth. He could almost visualize how the older man would react and it wasn't in a good way.

"I see," Dumbledore finally said, snapping him out of his thoughts. "Do you know the location of where you were?"

Harry shook his head, "No. As soon as I got out of the forest, the whole place disappeared. I was stuck in the middle of nowhere, I just apparated to the Weasley's." That wasn't a lie, it really did disappear. Like it was never there, to begin with.

"Interesting," Dumbledore said thoughtfully, "Well if that is all…?"

"That's it," Harry said not quite meeting his eye.

"Alright then. I am glad that you were unharmed. I will leave you to Poppy's tender care," Dumbledore said, eyes twinkling.

Harry groaned. He'd be stuck here for a week!

Dumbledore left and Madame Pomfrey finally finished with the salve and wanted him to rest. He certainly didn't disagree with the idea of rest, but first, he needed that shower...

xxx

When Harry got out of the shower over an hour later his skin was red from scrubbing it so hard, but he was right about the feeling not going away. He would have to live with it.

Ron and Hermione were waiting for him when he stepped out.

"Harry mate, we thought you drowned in there or something," Ron said jokingly but the relief on his face showed what he was really thinking.

Harry grinned lightly, "I think I can take on a little water."

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed and jumped on him with a tight hug. Harry instantly pushed her away and took a couple of steps back. Hermione looked at him with a little hurt and concern, "Harry?"

Harry just smiled, though his eyes were tight. "Madame Pomfrey just healed me, Hermione," he said, rubbing his side for effect.

"Oh!" Hermione said, her eyes widening, "I'm sorry."

"It's alright," Harry said shrugging his shoulder and sitting down on the bed.

"So what happened?" Ron asked, "One minute you were right here then you were gone."

"Death Eaters," Harry said flatly, "They drew me away and they caught me. Next thing I knew I was in front of Voldemort."

Hermione gasped, her hands flying to her mouth, "He didn't hurt you did he?"

If you only knew, Harry thought, but he shook his head, "No, I managed to get out before they did any real damage," He told them the same story he gave Dumbledore, with more detail of course.

"Wow," Ron awed, "You sure are lucky. How many times have you faced him and come out alive?"

"I think that brings the total up to seven," Harry said with a smirk.

"Bet his morale is pretty low right now," Ron said.

Harry smiled slightly then remembered the angry expression on Tom's face and the smile turned into a frown. When did I start calling him Tom? Hermione saw his strange expression and questioned him, "I'm fine Hermione, just tired."

Hermione nodded and got up, "We'll leave then; you need your rest."

"You sound like Madame Pomfrey," Harry smiled.

"Well she's right; you're in a right state."

"I am?" Harry asked unconsciously wrapping his arms around himself.

"Yes. Get some sleep, we'll see you in the morning," Hermione said heading to the door and grabbing Ron's arm along the way.

"See ya mate!" he called back and then they were gone.

Harry drew the curtains around his bed and laid down to go to sleep, but sleep refused to come. He kept thinking about what happened to him less than twelve hours ago.

Now that he was alone he was able to think clearly, but the more he thought about the way Tom kissed him, the way he had felt against him, inside him; the harder he got. The overwhelming need to be touched again completely overrode the feeling of disgust he had earlier. But he could tell it wasn't a need that could be sated by just anyone, it had to be Tom. The name alone sent shivers of pleasure down his spine and he couldn't help but admit that he had enjoyed every second he had been with Tom, and that was what disgusted him; the fact that he did like it.

Harry rolled over onto his side and tried to go to sleep, valiantly ignoring the erection against his thigh, willing it to go away. He was unsuccessful. Again his mind drifted to the soft touch of Tom's hands on his skin and full on desire made his body burn like it was on fire. He buried his face into the pillow and willed the thought away, wrapping himself tighter in the blankets. Oh God, Why am I feeling this way? He thought desperately, eyes clenched tight.

Little did Harry know that fifty miles away someone else was having the exact same problem.


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