A/N: So, Tom hasn't really been around and I promised you guys this chapter, so...Here it is!

To chibi-chan, I was gonna reply, but I couldn't find your email. As for your review, it wasn't harsh, I actually respect what you said and thank you for it. Please please please, send me your email so I can explain it all.

EDIT 4-06-08-- Thanks a bunch to Kai Minomono who noticed that 'blood' instead of 'blade' had been used in this chapter.

Warning: SLASH scene ahead!

Chapter Fifteen-- An Assassin And A Dark Lord

Fourteen Years Old, Little Hangleton Graveyard, First Encounter

Harry leaped from the low branch up to a higher one, crouching as the tree swayed with his movements. The rat like man glanced over, his beady eyes twitching, but returned to the large cauldron before him. He watched as the man took a bone from the earth and threw it in the potion, before moving to the boy tied to a gravestone.

Daniel Potter.

"Merde."

His own twin was there, which meant that this whole thing had to do with Voldemort. At least now he understood why the Guild Master had instructed him to limit his…death count to that of known Death Eaters only. He frowned as the man took a blade, silver, and sliced Daniel's arm. Harry winced as the blood dripped into a vial. He had to admire his brother's courage, unless it was stupidity. The boy was calmly talking to the man, although a burning hatred lay in his eyes.

The man ignored his captive and tipped the vial of blood into the cauldron. He hesitated then, before bringing the blade down on his own arm, cutting the right hand off above the wrist. Harry raised an eyebrow, his emerald eyes narrowing as the potion turned a pure white. He mentally ran through every potion he knew, searching for ones requiring the ingredients he'd seen and with an end result of white.

"Oh, fuck."

Barely hesitating, he leaped from the tree and landed on the ground in a crouch, one hand placed on the wet grass to steady himself. Again, the man looked over, his eyes scanning the landscape. But the bubbling of the cauldron caught his attention, and he turned back to it. Harry crept across the ground, weaving between the tombstones, before stationing himself where he could easily see Daniel and the surrounding area. If the bloody Dark Lord was going to come back, that meant he would be calling his stupid little minions.

The Guild Master had known. The infuriating man had consulted with a Seer only the week before. Damnit, he'd known that Voldemort would be returning. Harry sighed and settled into a more comfortable position. He adjusted the fingerless gloves and checked that his hood and veil were in the right position. Then he checked his boots. And then the katana strapped to his back; he checked the straps and ensured that the handle of the weapon was in easy reach. Finally, he pulled the blade from the sheath on his right arm. The black blade glimmered in the moonlight, sucking the light into it.

More than one Assassin had attempted to forcibly remove the blade, and the Mages had even challenged him to several duels in order to obtain it. It didn't matter; the Nexus Blade could only be wielded by a Hecatamae of its own choice. The power within it had helped him on more than one occasion and he would never relinquish it; even after death he would hold onto it.

A movement caught his attention and he watched as a naked Voldemort was robed by the little rat man. A whiff of something divine drifted over on the wind and Harry cocked his head to the side. Winter breezes and cinnamon. He frowned and sniffed at the air, but the smell was gone. Shrugging, he watched as Voldemort pressed his wand to the man's arm, where the black Dark Mark stood out against his left forearm. A dozen robed Death Eaters apparated into the area, and the little man was gifted with a brand new silver arm.

Harry winced at the sight. He would have to be sure to not go near the man; one simple touch from that hand and he would go down. Fast.

He yawned as Voldemort blathered on about loyalty and something to do with none of them ever coming to look for him. It was all very boring, considering he was only here to rid the world of some Death Eaters. He frowned and leaned forward as the ropes binding Daniel vanished and a red spell caused blood-curdling screams to rise from his twitching body.

"Fuck."

Harry moved fast, his blade a blur as he sliced the throat of one Death Eater, who gurgled as he fell. It wasn't until the next fell that the Cruciatus curse was lifted from his twin and every wand was trained on him. He smirked, knowing they couldn't see it, and gave a mock bow, sure to keep his eyes trained on Voldemort. He wasn't worried about the others.

"Well, what do we have here." Voldemort glided forward a few steps. "An Assassin."

The last was hissed out and Harry straightened, his emerald eyes glowing brighter. "And if it isn't the famed Dark Lord. Weren't you the one who was defeated by a mere year old babe? Shame."

"Insolent fool!" A red beam of light shot towards him and he side stepped it easily. "Bow down before me! Or do you seek Death's embrace?"

"And you call me a fool? I dish out personalised invitations to Death, I don't fear the end."

Harry saw a slight movement and inwardly sighed as Daniel finally caught up and started edging towards the fallen body of another wizard and the stupid Triwizard cup. He was glad that he had managed to arrive in time to manipulate the magic within the Killing Curse sent at the downed wizard; it was not his time to die.

Unfortunately, Voldemort saw the movement as well.

Harry swore and vanished only to reappear in front of Daniel. A blast of magic stopped the curse headed that way and he absorbed the power. "Get going, Potter!" He flicked his fingers and the wizard and cup flew over to land on the ground. "Go!"

Daniel stared at him a moment later, before scrambling to grab hold of the wizard and the cup. "Thank you."

Harry scowled as they vanished. He spun and ducked as a barrage of spell soared over to him. A wave of his hand and a shimmering barrier erected itself. He watched as Voldemort strode over to him. "Can I help you?"

"What business does the Assassins Guild have in this matter?"

Emerald eyes danced with amusement. "Don't you know? Your Death Eaters have death sentences hanging over their heads, but I'm afraid the precious Light's Boy Who Lived does not."

"You are not Light sided. Curious. Then you are with the Dark?"

Harry snorted, glaring at the snake faced man before him. "I guess thirteen years as a bodiless spirit would fry anyone's brains." Several more spells slammed into his shield. "Notice anything about my clothes, oh Lord of the Snakes?"

Voldemort scowled, or at least, it looked like he did. Having no eyebrows made it hard to tell. His blood red eyes raked over the Assassin before him, taking in the hooded top that ended around his thighs, split in the front, back and on the sides, the black sash that wrapped around his middle, the pants that hugged his thighs, the black dragon hide boots and the black veil that hid his lower face. Other than the sash, veil and boots, the entire ensemble was a soft charcoal grey.

"Grey. Strange."

"In more ways than one." Harry gave a low sweeping bow, trusting his instincts as he took his eyes off the man before him. " A pleasure to meet you."

Red eyes narrowed, and the slit like nostrils flared. Again, that odd scent drifted over to Harry and he frowned, tipping his head to try and pinpoint it. At the same time, he realised just who the rat like man was.

"Pettigrew!"

Quicker than anyone could react, Harry shot forward, abandoning his shield, and slashed at the mans middle. Blood spurted forth and coated the ground. Peter Pettigrew's eyes shot around and he trembled as pain wracked his body. "M-m-Master!"

Harry ignored the closing in of the Death Eaters, every sense focused on the man who betrayed the trust of his parents. "By the decree of the Guild Council, and based on the rights given to me by the Assassin Guild Master, I take your life Peter Pettigrew." The black blade moved in a graceful slash and the neck of the man split, covering his now lifeless body in bright red blood.

"Perhaps, Assassin, it would serve you well to join my ranks. I promise you a high placing."

Harry whirled and faced the man, his nostrils flaring and finally zeroing on the tantalising scent. He cursed in his mind, but kept himself focused. "Are you a fool?" He hissed. "I am Grey, both in name and position! I take no sides in this war of yours. Wage it; destroy the bloody world for all I care! But mark my words, Voldemort, you get in the way of one of my missions, and I won't hesitate to end your own life."

In a swirl of magic, Harry vanished.

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Fifteen Years Old, Somewhere Just Outside Of London, Sixth Encounter

Voldemort was furious, beyond that really, and Harry still found it endlessly amusing. He dodged another curse and his emerald eyes danced with laughter. It didn't matter how many times he appeared, hell bent on ending the life of more than one Death Eater, the man had never once gotten in his way. He could guess by the way his left eye was twitching that it was about to change. And soon.

Harry spun and slammed his boot into the knees of the robed Death Eater. A satisfying crack filled the air and the man screamed in agony. Crouching beside the man, he withdrew his blade. "You have been marked, Death Eater, by the Guild Council, as unworthy of this world." He sighed and twisted the mans wrist when he attempted to cast a spell. He snapped the wand and tossed it to the side. "By the decree of said Council, the Assassins Guild has been given the right to end your life and release your soul from this world."

"My lord!"

Harry frowned. This was the third man he'd killed today, the twenty first Death Eater since the resurrection of Voldemort, and the begging cry never ceased to annoy him. "You have been charged with the unnecessary torture and murder of over thirty muggle innocents, as well as three accounts of the selling of muggle children into magical slavery. As such, you have been granted the right to explain yourself, and the reasoning behind these actions."

He closed his eyes as the man blathered on about the goals of the Dark Lord. He could feel the eyes of Voldemort burning into him, moving almost constantly over his form. He resisted the temptation to shiver. His normally grey outfit was stained with blood, turning it black in several places, a testament to the blood he had spilled in only an hour.

Opening his eyes, he looked back at the man. "Your reasoning is found to be unjust, false and unnecessary." The black blade flashed. "The sentence has been carried out."

Harry stretched as he stood. He was remarkably comfortable whenever he was near Voldemort, the jittery wolf calming and his Hecatamus half practically cooing in delight. He knew what it meant, had known since that night in the graveyard.

The bloody Dark Lord was his mate.

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Fifteen Years Old, Outside Riddle Manor, Ninth Encounter

By the time six months had passed from the first encounter, over fifty-five Death Eaters, or unmarked supporters, had found death from the Nexus Blade. Harry had fast become reluctant to take on missions where there was a chance that he could come across Voldemort. The last time, the man had attempted to capture him and Harry hadn't been pleased at all. Oh, he was well aware that he was annoying the hell out of Voldemort, cutting his troops down was sure to piss him off.

But no, that was apparently not the reason behind the attempted capture at all. No, it was just the fact that the leader of the Light, Albus Dumbledore, was claiming that the mysterious Assassin, known now as Grey Shadow, was one of his most loyal.

That in itself had annoyed Harry and he had quite happily enlisted the help of a Master of Potions to send the man a nasty cocktail of potions with the intent of making his life hell for a few days. Severus Snape, the brother of his first teacher of the ways of the Assassin, Panah Snape. He had been endlessly amused to see how much older Pan looked in comparison to his brother. Snape was only two years younger, but both of them looked like life had dealt them a few heavy blows.

Harry yawned from his perch inside a tree, a black bow in his arms and a quiver of arrows slung across a branch beside him. He only had one mission at the moment, and that was to take out anyone seen coming from the supposedly empty Riddle Manor. The muggle repellent charms worked a treat and the spells designed to keep wizards away were good as well, they kept anyone unwanted away. And since Harry wasn't a wizard, he was the only logical choice.

With a sigh he stretched his legs before leaning forward a little. So far he'd taken down about five people and the inhabitants had become wary. He scanned the building…there! A window had been opened a moment before it suddenly slammed shut. He grinned when he caught sight of the individual who still stood at the window. He pulled an arrow from the quiver and notched it. Sighting down the arrow he pulled it back and released it, watching in satisfaction as it smashed the glass and embedded itself in the man's throat.

He grinned and settled back again. Closing his eyes he didn't see the fast moving shape that kept to the dark shadows of the trees. He never noticed as it stopped beneath him and he never saw the glowing gold eyes. He did, however, notice when he was pulled from his perch and slammed into the ground on his stomach, pinned to the ground by a growling werewolf. Cursing his own stupidity Harry tried to push the large wolf off of him, but the creature simply growled back, settling on his back.

He felt his wolf self reacting to the scent of a dominant Were and he cursed his own submissive nature, never mind the fact that it was his Hecatamus half doing the reacting. Concentrating, he pulled the wolf forward long enough for his skin to ripple with fur and his body to change, before quickly shoving it to the back of his mind. With an angry snarl, he shot forward, surprising the large brown wolf. Moving with the agility of carefully honed muscles and senses, he dodged the sudden attack of two more werewolves. He spun and headed towards the manor, noticing that the wolves fell back with angry whines. He leaped and changed mid-air as he slammed into the old stone walls. He scrabbled for grip and felt the rough surface skin his fingertips. He pressed himself against the wall and calmed his racing heart before beginning to climb up the wall. It wasn't like he had a choice; if he went down, the wolves would go for him again, and he couldn't simply hang onto the wall like a bat.

He looked up and caught sight of an open window. He hadn't been targeting this side of the manor, so he wasn't surprised to see that. He pulled himself over the ledge and landed on the floor with a soft 'thump'. He lay on his back, letting his racing heart slow down as he stared at the dark ceiling. He hadn't had a close encounter with a dominant wolf for years. The only ones he'd had trouble with had been a part of the Greyback pack, and Remus and Fenrir refused to allow them to claim him.

He shivered. He would prefer to be bound to Voldemort than to some sex-crazed wolf.

"Well, what do I have here?"

The voice slid over his senses and he jumped up, falling into a defensive crouch as the room lightened. "Voldemort."

And the Dark Lord did stand before him, but with a flick of the mans wand, the snake-face vanished to be replaced by a handsome young man, even though Harry knew he was over sixty years old.

"Ah, Grey. Imagine finding you here. I suppose Dumbledore put you up to this?"

Harry glared at the man. "Dumbledore? Bah, I would sooner die than side with the man."

"Good." Voldemort moved across the room to stop before him. "Are you aware that your veil has fallen?"

Harry's hand flew up and he cursed when he found the material hanging around his throat. The close proximity of the man before him was beginning to make his body tremble and he cursed again. "Must have fallen off while your wolves attempted to claim me." He settled for glaring at him in an attempt to ignore his own body.

Dark eyes flared with crimson. "What!" The man snarled and stalked past Harry to the window. "Fools!"

Harry frowned. This was not the behaviour he had been expecting. "Excuse me?"

"I did not give them permission to be on this property tonight. I will…speak with them in the morning."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "You mean torture them? Honestly, I'm surprised you aren't deaf from the screams. Or bored of the act."

In a flash, Harry found himself against the wall with a hard body pressed against him. "Do you ever tire of killing? Of ending the lives of others?"

Suppressing a moan, because the man was obviously oblivious to what he was doing, Harry choked out, "no, not really."

"Than what makes you think I do not enjoy torturing them?"

Closing his eyes, he knew his next words could mean his own death. Ironic that it would be at the hands of his own mate, even if the man didn't know it. "Because you don't. Because you wish you could ask for simple loyalty."

There was a heavy silence, and he cautiously opened his eyes to find Voldemort gaping at him. "How…never mind."

Now Harry was curious. "How did I know? Could be millions of things. Could be the fact that I know your past; know that you never really had friends. I always make sure to understand the more dangerous targets."

"But I am not a target, am I? Ah, but I knew there was reason I liked you, age be damned."

Before Harry could question him, a pair of soft yet hard lips was crushing his own. His magic whipped up, his wings shimmering into being as his two halves practically purred with delight. Moaning, he opened his mouth up and surrendered himself. Voldemort could only grin in delight as the Assassin willingly submitted to him. He hadn't been with a true submissive since before his…unfortunate defeat. The fact that the submissive was the very same Assassin that had been steadily cutting his forces down didn't really matter much now.

Letting his hands slid down to curve under the tense thighs, he lifted up and the legs obediently wrapped around his waist. He pushed the hood back and curled his fingers into the shaggy raven locks, tugging backwards and pressing kisses down over the teens chin. He bit lightly at the point where shoulder met neck and felt the muscles tremble. A wave of his hand had their clothes vanishing; he really wanted the boy, and he would be damned if he let such a specimen escape.

Harry was fast loosing what sanity he had. "Stop, please."

Voldemort's voice was low and husky as he murmured against his ear, "and why would I want to do that?"

"Age," Harry gasped out as the man rocked his hips against him, a moan slipping out.

"I care very little for age."

Harry gave a whine, which elicited a chuckle. "I'm not even legal!"

"Oh?" Voldemort pressed the teen against the wall and let his hands roam all over the tanned flesh. "And how old would you be?"

"Fif-fifteen!"

He raised an eyebrow. So a fifteen year old had successfully taken out men more ruthless than the most insane muggle serial killers? Curious. He pushed the thought aside in favour of curling his hand around the trembling proof of how much the Assassin wanted this. "I still fail to see your point, Grey."

Harry arched and, with another whine, he let go of his inhibitions and rolled his hips. The bloody age factor be damned, this was his mate and he was not going to be going anywhere any time soon it seemed.

Voldemort growled low in his throat. He tightened his hold on the teen and cautiously made his way over to the large bed in the centre of the room. He felt a shiver of magic spread through him as he lay the boy down on the edge. "Are you going to fight me?" He purred as his hands roved over the smooth skin.

"No!" Harry gasped. Jesus, this man was actually thinking he would have the ability to stop him? Now? He mentally snorted, even as he moaned out loud. For god's sake, the Hecatamae were related to Incubi and Succubi!

Voldemort smirked as his fingers trailed down, the teen gasped as one finger sunk in to the hilt. Wiggling the digit, he searched patiently until…there! He stroked his finger over the boy's prostate, revelling in the hitched cry. Tanned hands shot out and pulled his head down, soft lips clashing against him.

"Damn it, will you get on with it?" Harry growled, even as he arched as another finger was added.

The wizard grinned, removing his fingers and nudging the boy up the bed further. Watching as the teen scurried backwards, he absently cast a spell on himself. Crawling forward, he held himself up above the lithe body, staring down into darkened emerald eyes. In a soft voice that betrayed the soft part of his personality he had never managed to squash, he asked, "Are you sure?"

Harry blinked dazedly, desire making his body burn. "Yes."

In one smooth motion, Voldemort buried himself to the hilt, relishing the sudden heat. A cry of both pain and passion caused him to pause as he moved back. "Are you a…"

Harry gasped. "Virgin?" He groaned, shifting slightly to ease the burning pain in his behind. "Is it that obvious?"

The wizard frowned at the sarcasm. "There's no need to snap!"

Harry wiggled again and a spark of pleasure shot up his spine. "Oh god. Would you just move!"

Surprised, Voldemort paused a moment, before the golden legs wrapped around him and pulled him further in. Groaning, he braced himself above the boy, before their worlds spun into a tornado of desire, heat and husky moans, ending in a crescendo of wild colours.

The last thing either was aware of was falling to the side, a lancing pain splitting their heads open, before they sank into oblivion.

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Fifteen Years Old, Riddle Manor, Tom Marvolo Riddle's Private Rooms

Harry watched the sleeping man beside him. What was once a man named Voldemort, was now Tom Riddle to him. His own nature refused to allow him to call him anything but his real name. The bond was growing quicker than he'd thought it would. He had been there a total of three days, if he didn't contact the Guild soon, they would amass a team to find out what was going on. With a sigh, he gave a soft hiss, "Phanta."

There was a flash and his familiar appeared beside him. The small, silver Faerie Dragon cooed and butted her head against his hand. They had only been bonded for a little over a year and he still felt awe at being chosen by the beautiful creature. He smiled and stroked his hand down the sleek body.

"What is it that Master needs?"

He frowned. "Stop calling me that, it's odd." He glanced over at the man beside him, his eyes dancing as he frowned in his sleep and reached out, wrapping an arm around Harry's waist. He let himself be pulled closer, relishing in the contact of the warm body. "I need you to go to Mere, use Ferio, and let her know I'm okay. Get her to contact the Guild Master, and tell him I…might be a while."

Phanta cooed and climbed over his shoulder to gaze down at the wizard. "Master found Master Mate!"

He sighed and grabbed hold of the excitable dragon before she could launch herself at his sleeping companion. "Go!"

With a huff, she spread her wings and leaped into the air, vanishing in another flash of magic. Harry shook his head and lay back against the cool sheets. His emerald eyes were glowing faintly and there was nothing he could do about it; the magic wasn't his and the owner wasn't aware of the link yet. He settled down and watched as Tom continued to sleep peacefully. He looked nothing like his…public persona. In place of a strange snake-like individual, was one of the most breathtakingly sexy men he had ever seen. And it wasn't like Harry had never peeked.

Tom frowned again, his nose wrinkling as he slitted his eyes open. Crimson glowed from within the dark depths as they opened fully to gaze at the calm Assassin beside him. "Good morning, Grey."

Harry tipped his head slightly, and rolled onto his side. "Do you feel anything different? Odd, perhaps? Something that wasn't there before?"

Tom blinked, before searching his mind. It took a few minutes before he realised that the contented feeling wasn't his alone. Following that, it only took him another moment or two before he was tugging on a link in his mind. Curiously, he whispered to it, what is this?

Me, I suppose. Harry watched as the wizard jerked and his eyes snapped open to look at him. "It's a…link."

"I can see that!" Scowling, he hissed, "stupid, insolent brat."

"Is it so nice to speak of your companion that way?" Harry smirked. "If it is, then perhaps I am in the wrong place."

"Wha?"

"How incredibly articulate of you."

Tom scowled again at him, before the growing bond suddenly decided that it wanted more contact between them. Giving a slight growl, which had Harry perking up, he wrapped his arm tightly around the younger mans waist and rolled on top of him. "You would do well to remember who it is you are talking to."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "You think I was given my name simply because of the colour of my clothes? Or my standing in the war?"

Tom frowned. "Explain."

With a sigh, the emerald-eyed teen proceeded, not that he had much of a choice, really. "I was named Grey first, because I refused to declare my allegiance to either side. The ideas of both don't appeal to me. I'm part werewolf, which makes me a Dark creature, but at the same time I am also half Hecatamus, which makes me a Light creature as well. So the Guild Master named me Grey."

Tom blinked down at him, letting his pale fingers creep over tanned flesh as he straddled the boy. "Hmm. Continue."

"The name Shadow came when the Vamps realised they could never catch me and I was slipping in and out of any place I stepped foot in. It was a nickname at first, since most Assassins don't take on two names. I thought I'd be one of the individuals." He shrugged and then sucked in his breath, unconsciously arching as his wrists were dragged over his head and magically bound to the head board.

"So," Tom said as took in the sight before him. "You are a hybrid. I had heard whispers of a Hecatamus having been born fifteen years ago, but to have two?"

Harry was confused. "Two?"

"You surely cannot be that one, because you are obviously older, despite your earlier claim, and he was a…Potter."

"I'm not a Potter."

"Good," he hissed as he leaned forward and captured a nipple between his lips. He smirked at the gasp.

"I'm an Evans."

He laved at the pink peak, humming, before his mind caught up with what had been said. He paused and his dark eyes glanced upwards. "An Evans? I have never heard of that family. From which country do they hail from?"

Harry tensed and Tom frowned. "England. And you wouldn't have heard of them. From what I remember you hate muggles."

Tom reeled back as if he had been struck. Anger turned his eyes blood red and summoned his wand to him. "Muggle! You filthy, little, lying creature!"

Harry winced. Magic pooled around him, separating as much of himself from the furious wizard as possible. He tugged at the bonds on his wrist, but they didn't budge. His magic wouldn't hold against his own mate for very long. "I am not a muggle! My mother may have been a Muggleborn witch, but I have no muggle blood, let alone wizard blood."

Tom's eyes narrowed. He slipped off of Harry to kneel beside him. He raised his wand and pointed it at the teen. "Corpus servitus."

Harry's eyes widened as invisible bonds wrapped around his body, tying him to the bed. A burst of magic rippled out and threw Tom from the bed. Concentrating on the spell, he began to tug and pull the magic into him. A few moments later he growled in frustration. "You put a Hecatamae spell on me!"

Tom smirked as he stood. "And why wouldn't I? Why let such a prize go? A hybrid, born from muggle blood."

Emerald eyes flashed, flecks of red suddenly appearing. Arching his back, Harry let out a muffled scream as he bit down on his lip. Instantly, Tom was beside him, staring down in curiosity at the odd eyes. He watched as Harry grimaced and trembled in the magical bonds. Several minutes passed before the teen settled back down, panting with the effort.

"What was that?"

Harry glared up at the man, but was inwardly glad that the red had receded. He knew that his own eyes would be a chaotic mix of emerald and red. "The bond."

"What bond is this, exactly?"

"Are you sure you want to know?" When Tom looked like he as about to explode again, he hurriedly continued, "It's a mate bond."

"Wha?"

"That's the second time you've been unable to form a sentence, let alone a whole word."

Tom blinked. "Mate bond? Are you saying that…"

Harry sighed. "That you're my mate? Yeah, that's kinda what I'm saying."

A/N: the hooded top that Harry was wearing, was loosely based off of the one that Altair is wearing in Assassin's Creed. I'm currently obsessing over the game, since my brother finally let me play it. And…No, Tom will not just accept the whole mate thing. But this was where my Muse decided to leave off, although there may be some flashbacks in the future…