Disclaimer: Nope. I own nothing but the dirty dirty plotline.

Chapter Five

Harry stood, as stubborn as an ox while Severus prepared for dinner. Tom was holding a large dinner for the upcoming week of negotiations. The delegation would meet in the day and huge parties would be thrown during the nights. A week of partying and he was not going to pass up the opportunity. He wouldn't miss the parties but he would be damned if he was going to have to sit through a whole day and a boring dinner of Tom. That man was infuriating! He still had the ugly bruises to prove it. The things had only darkened and Severus had surmised that Tom's wild magic had stained the things on until the Dark Lord saw fit to take them off. The information had only infuriated the teen more. Who did that man think he was?! Severus bent over to pull his pants over his black boxers, feeling rather self conscious at the emerald eyes that were boring into him.

"So, Severus, I don't suppose you would like to accompany me to the party later tonight would you?" He questioned, pulling the man's robe from the bed with a mocking grin so the potion's master couldn't finish dressing.

The man gave a small huff but smiled gently, eyes apologetic.

"I would love nothing more than to escort you tonight, Harry, but what is going on between you and Tom is a fight I want no part of. I rather like all my bits in the correct order. So, if you wouldn't mind…" Harry relinquished the robe with a laugh.

He knew that Severus was sincere when he said he would love to take him.

"Soo…Suppose the party is a bust. Could I maybe come back here and spend it with you?"

Severus grinned and raised a cheeky eyebrow.

"In your study."

The look did not change.

"In a purely platonic way."

Severus pretended to look insulted.

"Okay, maybe not in a PURELY platonic way."

The man laughed and flicked Harry's mask that was resting over his head at the moment. Long jade earrings hung down to his shoulders, the decorative round metal plates chiming together with each of his subtlest of movements.

"You know you are always welcome here." He said softly running one of the long earrings against his palm.

His reward was a soft smile in return. Severus eyed the bruises with a wince touching the one nearest the boy's collarbone lightly. Harry sighed at the cool touch on his hot angry flesh.

"They look like they still hurt."

"They hurt like bloody fuck. I do not appreciate being man-handled like some domestic abuse victim. I think I'll leave an extra special present in Tom's bed for this tonight. Maybe that will teach him not to treat me like one of his hookers."

He snorted.

"Antagonizing him will get you nowhere, Harry."

The teen hissed angrily, mindful of his puppets standing just inside the shadows. He wasn't angry at Severus and he knew that but the whole situation was just infuriating!

"I won't roll over and be his bitch either!"

Harry found himself encased in a pair of arms, his anger diffusing immediately. Severus held him for the moment just absorbing the feeling.

"I wouldn't have you so. Nothing so degrading as that. Just…make him work extra hard to make it up to you. He needs you, Harry. Never doubt that. Aside from your alliance, He wouldn't be whole without you. You're the only person who sees him for himself whether it be pleasant or unpleasant. He needs you and no matter how he may hate admitting it, he would have a hollow victory without you at his side. I know he may seem like an arrogant son of a bitch now, but you have to make him see that respect is what will win him your heart, not jealousy and domination."

He nodded, just standing in the embrace for a moment, not bothering to pull away. There were so few who wanted him for him and not for his power or his body. Severus was one of those few. With Severus, he could see himself settling down and just being…happy.

"Thanks, Severus." He said before smiling cheekily and handing the man a small box on a chain. "I meant to give it to you previously but other events got in the way. It has one of my dolls in it. It will come to your aid when you need it and will only go back to sleep once you will it."

The potion's master was touched. Harry was concerned about him. With a jealous Dark Lord out for Harry's arse and Severus as his only confidante, it was a reasonable concern.

"Thank you, Harry."

Tom fumed silently, sitting in the negotiations hall amongst his closest allies and friends. Harry had yet to show up. Where the hell was he?! He knew that he was still mad but not even bothering to show up on time for the most important part of the negotiations?! Was he out of his mind?! The Veela beside him sniggered. Bloody Victoria.

"So where is our Puppet Master, Lord Voldemort? Trouble in paradise?"

Bloody Veela! She sounded like she knew. Victoria's mother was a Seer, so she probably did know. He gave her a charming smile.

"Of course not, my Lady Victoria. He was merely caught up in some emergency I imagine."

He better be! He growled inwardly.

"Now now, Lord Voldemort, remember. We must not tell lies. Otherwise who knows what could happen to that pretty tongue of yours. I apologize for my tardiness. I found myself engaged elsewhere for a bit."

Harry had finally arrived. He stepped into the hall and all eyes were on his approaching form. He was a delicious sight to behold. Harry had left his long hair down to cascade down his back framing his delicate looking features and his emerald eyes. His earrings were long, made of beads, crow's feathers and metal discs that chimed together with each movement. They hung sinuously down to his shoulders. His mask was up, casually, giving the whole room the image of the markings on his face. He had winding swirling lines leading down from his eyes, somehow drawing more attention to those gorgeous depths. A rune was drawn on his forehead, the dice-cup rune standing for rebirth, mystery, magic, sexuality, divination, new beginning and prophecy. Covered by the gloves he wore were the water rune and the protection rune. Not many knew it but the runes were not paint as they were disguised but were actually tattooed onto the teen's body. All were used in the creation of his puppets in some way or another. Very few had been given the privilege of seeing Harry work but those who had respected him all the more for it. It was not a feat easily accomplished and Harry was taking the secret of it to his grave. No one else knew how to trap a person's soul in a vessel. Voldemort could guess, but not even he had been allowed to see how Harry made his creations. Beneath his solid black cloak, Harry wore tight leather black pants and a matching dark wife beater. Voldemort noticed that most of the hall's inhabitants were looking on his future Consort with eyes filled with lust. The Incubus King hadn't taken his eyes from Harry's form since he had arrived and watched his every step as if he were eating up the very sight. He would definitely have to keep an eye on Lord L'Etias. He couldn't have him stealing his future Consort right from under him. Figuratively, of course. Harry took his place behind him.

"Who else were you engaged with, Potter?" Voldemort asked in parsle for their privacy.

Harry leaned down close to him with a bright smile, looking to all as if they were sharing an intimate moment.

"That is none of your concern, Tom. And know this, if you EVER lay another hand on me again, I will use my pretty's teeth to remove your fingers. Then you will never touch me."

The Dark Lord inwardly growled the only sign of his displeasure was a tightening around his eyes and mouth.

"We will see."

Harry turned to Victoria, ignoring Voldemort's response as if he had never uttered it.

"Long time no see, Vicky! You little minx, what have you been up to? Nothing legal, I hope!"

And so the negotiations began.

Tom stood in his room, getting ready for the party while his future Consort stood in his doorway. Harry would be his, but at the moment they were a little peeved with each other. The Puppeteer was fuming not so silently.

"I do not appreciate being man-handled. Do not ever abuse me again. I'm not one of your bitches or your playthings that you can just treat like crap anytime you feel like it. I'm not your pet." Harry glowered, pulling his glamours away so he could see the dark painful stains on his skin.

Tom smirked playfully, adopting a sly expression.

"But you are my pet, Harry."

Wrong thing to say, he realized too late. Harry's eyes flashed dangerously before darkening. The teen walked up to him, his protections seething around him, whipping the air and his hair into a frenzy. Harry stepped up, close enough to kiss, pressing into his body. His hands found Voldemort's hips and grabbed them hard, as if he were made of steel. There would be bruises later, he knew.

"I am NO ONE'S pet, Tom. Especially not yours. You will not disrespect me in such a way. I will not accept anything but being your equal. I am your ally, not your plaything. Never forget that. If you do, I will take my pretties and I will go elsewhere. There are plenty of others who would do a lot for my skills and talents and I will not hesitate to leave you if I even think you are treating me less than what I know I deserve. You have to respect me or you will never have me or my alliance. I won't accept anything else." He whispered darkly, fury in his voice.

Voldemort's own crimson eyes narrowed dangerously, despite the wonderful little position he and Harry were in. He couldn't even enjoy it at present.

"Is that a threat, Potter?"

Harry sighed, his angry eyes easing slightly so they became an expression that Voldemort had never seen on him before. Something he was having difficulty understanding fully.

"I suppose it is." He responded before breathing against the Dark Lord's lips slowly, "Don't give me a reason to walk away. I don't…want to. But I will. Even though I won't like it, I will leave you." With that final soft statement that had Voldemort's eyes wide, Harry kissed him hard and deep.

Pulling away, he left the room leaving a stunned and thoroughly kissed Dark Lord behind. Voldemort touched his lips in wonder. Perhaps he did have a chance after all. That was the first time Harry had ever kissed him himself. It was…wonderful. Addicting. It was definitely the taste of Harry on his tongue that made him turn back to the mirror and reassess what he was wearing. He could do better. For Harry.

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