I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I got caught up in the season premier of Heroes last night, and I completely forgot it was time to update!

If you forgive me, review? Please?

Quick warning: In this chapter, the story starts to really earn the 'M' rating.

Chapter 17

After they awoke from their nap, Tom spent the rest of the evening mercilessly drilling Harry. Harry had to practice changing forms over and over, until he could do it as quickly and as easily as Tom did. Since the process of transformation is neither simple nor easy, not even after being shown how, this took several hours, and by the end of it, Harry was starving. Perhaps it was so much time spent in his alternate form, but he also had quite the craving for meat. Luckily, Tom seemed to have anticipated this, and for their dinner that evening, Tibby the house elf presented them both with thick steaks, grilled, but only rare done. There were sides of fluffy baked potatoes and steamed vegetables, but Harry had no appetite for those.

"So, Tom, what are we doing tomorrow?" Harry asked in between mouthfuls.

Tom did not answer immediately. Instead, he studied Harry's face carefully. Harry, in the middle of chewing a bite, found this slightly awkward.

"You will recall, I believe, that I asked if I might have your assistance with…certain tasks during your time here," Tom finally answered.

Harry told himself that the gulping noise he'd just made was the result of swallowing a too-large bite. "Yes, Tom," he replied. "I remember, and I still want to help you."

This brought another period of prolonged, pensive silence. Harry finally couldn't stand it and stammered out, "Er, that is, if you still want me to..."

"I do, Harry, very much. Yet I find myself strangely reluctant to place you in any sort of danger. I cannot fathom why…" The last sentence was said softly, really more to himself than to Harry. As Tom said it, he realized that it was absolutely true. Something inside him ached painfully at the thought of any harm befalling Harry. At first, he assumed that it was simply because Harry's death was his to deliver, and he couldn't stand the thought of someone else doing it. But then, as he pictured himself raising his wand at Potter, watching the infamous green curse fly toward those beguiling green eyes, he realized that the painful feeling only became stronger.

He couldn't stand the thought of killing Harry.

Well…that just meant he'd have to keep him. Forever. Harry belonged to him, and he never let anyone else touch what was his.

He wouldn't be the first Dark Lord to take a Consort.

Harry, for his part, had remained silent, knowing Tom well enough to allow him to sort out his thoughts without interruption. When he saw the small smile come over Tom's lips, a smile so infinitesimal that none but Harry would have been able to spot it, he knew that whatever inner turmoil Tom was going through had been resolved, and he put in his two knuts.

"You told me then, Tom, that you wouldn't give me anything to do that you thought would be too dangerous. I trust you. And you know what I can do. You've trained me yourself. Trust me."

Tom stared into Harry's eyes for a long time before responding. When he finally did, Harry found what he said to be worth the wait: "All right then, little serpent. Head back to your room and rest well. Tomorrow, our partnership truly begins."

After a goodnight kiss that left both of them panting for breath, Harry took Tom's advice and Portkeyed back to the hotel.

Wednesday morning arrived quickly, and Harry was soon back at Slytherin manor. Tom and breakfast were both awaiting him, although the breakfast was much lighter than usual. Harry wasn't going to comment on that, but Tom noticed his look, and explained, "One should never consume heavy foods before a mission. It slows your reaction time, and if you become nervous, your stomach will want to reject everything you have put in it." Harry nodded; that made sense to him. It was sort of like how he never ate anything but toast before a Quidditch match. Since it worked for Quidditch, Harry decided it would probably work for this, too, and only ate a few slices.

Tom began explaining their mission for the day over breakfast. "I think this will please you, my little serpent. We are attacking the home of Dolores Umbridge, the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister."

"I'm happy about that, really, I couldn't be more thrilled, but…why her? Why not Fudge himself?"

"At the moment, Mr. Fudge is useful, and whomever took his place would likely not be so. However, he has recently been showing some stirrings of independent thought, and thus he must be reminded of the consequences of disobedience."

"In that case, why not his wife, or someone else closer to him? He won't really care about Umbridge dying."

"I do not yet wish to send him such a strongly-worded message. It carries the risk of provoking him into further action."

"So we are simply warning him that next time, it could be someone he truly cares for."

"Yes. And while any of his sycophants would have suited, I did choose her in particular because of the harm she has done to you. You belong to me, and I will not allow anyone to touch what is mine."

Harry wasn't sure how to feel about that. Part of him just melted inside, with a warm squishy feeling. But another part of him wanted to declare that he was a person, not a thing to be owned. The feelings of comfort and security won out, but a small shred of uncertainty remained in his mind.

Tom explained the security precautions that were in place all around the home. Harry paid careful attention, memorizing his role in the plan. It was fairly simple. The two would apparate to the home, dressed in the robes and masks of regular Death Eaters. Harry's face, of course, had to be hidden, and Tom did not yet want it to be known that Lord Voldemort had a companion, treated like an equal partner. Tom would proceed to bring down the wards while Harry covered his back. A squadron of six aurors were on permanent detail at her home. Though aurors were generally trained to incapacitate rather than kill, and forbidden from using Dark spells of any kind, Harry and Tom both agreed that these aurors were likely to have slightly different orders, given the temperament of the woman. Harry also knew for a fact that none of the aurors were his friends from the Order, and that was a relief.

Thanks to Lucius Malfoy, they had the layout of the house, along with 360-degree views of each room. As she was currently out of work on sick leave (not a coincidence—it was almost too easy to create a targeted outbreak of the flu), they guessed that she was most likely to be in her bedroom, though of course any of the rooms were possible. Once they were in, they would find her. If the aurors had been taken out quietly, and they had time, they would have a bit of fun. If alarms had been set off, they would dispose of her quickly and be on their way.

They finished the debriefing and prepared to leave. When both were ready, Tom put his arms tightly around Harry's waist. In an instant, both vanished, reappearing instantly outside the wards around the home of Dolores Umbridge.

Tom smiled to himself. The wards around the home were child's play. It wouldn't take him more than a few moments to get through. Which was fortunate, because the guards seemed alerted to their arrival, and three of them were already pulling out their wands.

Tom was worried, but he knew that he couldn't allow himself to be distracted from his task. He quickly discovered, though, that he needn't have worried. Harry was a Seeker, and he was built for speed. Before the three could finish pulling out their wands, Harry had them on the ground, two with a Dark curse that placed the victim into an irreversible coma for twelve hours, and one with three Blasting curses, directed at his wand hand and his kneecaps. Tom could feel the satisfaction oozing off of Harry, and he spared a bit of his attention to send back feelings of pride.

Then the other three guards showed up. They spotted their fallen comrades, and came out shooting Cruciatus curses. Harry sent a quick mental warning to Tom before shoving him to the ground to avoid the spells. Harry was incensed. How dare they attack his Tom? For the second time in his life, he let three green curses fly from his wand. The three men fell to the ground, never to get up again. Just as the body of the last one fell, Tom finished breaking the wards. All together, it had been perhaps three minutes.

They entered the home, finding a foyer decorated with the same enamelled kitten plates that had once been displayed in the office at Hogwarts. Tom and Harry both had identical—though unseen—moues of distaste.

They moved silently together through the house, finding all of the rooms empty. Eventually, the only room left was the bathroom, and they heard the sounds of retching from outside the door.

Tom gestured for Harry to take the lead, which he did, gladly. He pushed the door open, and found the toad-like hag bowing to the porcelain god. "It's almost too easy," he said conversationally.

The woman's face slowly turned around, coming to see who had disturbed her.

She was quick, Harry would have to give her that. "Please," she gasped. "Don't kill me. I'll do whatever you want. I'm a pureblood myself, I agree with the Dark Lord, I'd be happy to serve him!"

Harry and Tom glanced at each other. "Perhaps you may be useful, at that," Tom drawled. "Yes," Harry picked up. "We have a message for your boss."

"Yes? Yes? What is it? I'll give it to him, I swear!"

"Yes," Harry said. "You will. Crucio!"

As the spell hit her, her head knocked into the edge of the toilet seat, and began bleeding. The woman twitched and writhed, in too much pain to even beg for mercy. Not that Harry would grant it. He was enjoying it too much, enjoying the sight of the blood, the sound of the screams, and the feel of approval he could sense from Tom. After a few minutes, he ended the spell. "Would you like a turn?" he offered, turning to his partner.

"I appreciate your generous offer, but no."

Harry turned back to Umbridge, who was beginning to recover, and holding a wad of tissue against her head in an attempt to stop the flow of blood. "In that case, woman, here is the message we wish you to give your boss."

"Yes?" she coughed weakly.

"He is not safe. His family is not safe. No one who associates with him is safe. If he does not do exactly as he is told, we will destroy everyone and everything he loves, and he will be begging for death before the end."

"He will know! I swear it! Tell the Dark Lord, I swear it! I'll go to see him right now!"

"That won't be necessary," Harry replied, almost sweetly. "Someone in your condition should get their rest, after all. The next time he sees you, he'll know what the message is."

And just as Dolores Umbridge realized that her death was the message, green light swept over her, and she knew no more.

Harry and Tom returned to Slytherin manor, flushed with success. True, it had been an easy victory, but the vision of what their partnership could be was starting to come true. They discarded the masks they had worn at the door, knowing Tibby would pick them up. They weren't speaking; only holding hands and basking in the feelings they could feel flowing from each other. Tom led Harry up the stairs and into a room Harry had never seen before: Tom's bedroom.

Harry was surprised to find that it was decorated in shades of blue, rather than the dark green and silver he expected, but he didn't have much time to think about it. He was pushed onto the soft bed, and his lips were attacked almost violently. He returned the kiss desperately, only now realizing that one of the feelings that had been coming from Tom earlier was pure lust.

Tom's lips separated from his, and he almost groaned in protest, but the lips quickly returned to kiss his cheek, and then his ear, and then move in a trail down the side of his neck. His hands fisted Tom's hair, and he moaned at the unbelievable sensations running through his body.

Tom's lips began gently sucking on his neck, and Tom's hands began pulling at the ties on his robes. Soon, the robes were off, and he was clad only in a white undershirt and black boxers, both made of silk. Tom was staring at him, and Harry looked down, blushing.

"§You look absolutely delectable, my little serpent.§"

The sensuous hissing made Harry come completely undone. He began pulling at the ties on Tom's own robes, frantically kissing everything that fell under his mouth as he did so. Soon, they were both clad in only their under garments, and Tom's mouth was once again plundering Harry's. Silk-wrapped erections, stiff with excitement, brushed against each other, creating pleasure like Harry had never known before. Tom's hands moved under Harry's shirt, caressing the hardened nipples, while Harry's hands found their way under Tom's shorts to glide over the smooth cheeks.

Tom couldn't believe how amazing this felt. He'd taken lovers before, both men and women, and some who were quite skilled at the sensual arts. But though Harry was an untried innocent, he somehow seemed to know just what to do to bring Tom the greatest possible pleasure. It certainly didn't hurt that they could feel each other's lust, fanning the flames of their mutual desires. Tom could hardly wait to have Harry as his Consort.

Wait, dear Morgana, his Consort! If he didn't stop now, he wouldn't be able to stop, and Harry had to be 'pure' for the ritual! Just as Harry's hand began to timidly slide around Tom's waist, inching ever so slowly toward the member quivering in anticipation, Tom froze, and quickly pulled away.

Anxiety and shame poured off of Harry in waves, and Tom quickly moved to reassure him. "I'm sorry," he said, catching Harry's hands gently in his own.

Harry looked up bravely. "It's all right. I shouldn't have expected you to…well, want me."

"No, my little serpent. I do want you, very much."

"Then why did you stop?"

"Because I wish to have you as my Consort."

Harry's face lit up as though Gryffindor had won the Quidditch cup, Christmas had come, and he'd received twelve NEWTS, all on the same day. "Really? You mean it?"

Tom had to remind himself that Harry was still under the influence of the potion. He wasn't certain what to do about that. The Consort ritual would bind them together for the rest of their lives, so once it was complete, Harry would be unable to leave or betray him. He supposed he might give Harry the antidote when the ritual was complete. He'd get over the trickery, right? Or maybe not. He didn't want to have to deal with a Consort acting like an angry brat throwing a tantrum, which would inevitably happen.

Harry spoke up again. "But what does that have to do with…stopping?" His face was bright red.

"The ritual requires you to be, if I may be indelicate, 'pure' at the time it is performed."

"Excuse me?" Harry looked confused.

Tom realized that he'd have to be a bit more blunt. "You have to be a virgin."

Understanding and embarrassment passed over Harry's face. "So…you mean you really were about to…go all the way?"

Tom smirked down at the younger man, leering as his eyes trailed slowly over Harry's body. "Indeed. And I believe it shall be difficult to restrain myself from doing so until your seventeenth birthday."

"Why my seventeenth birthday?"

"Because that is when you will be an adult wizard, and thus the day that you become eligible to be my Consort. And I will not wait even a day longer than I must."

Harry managed to stop blushing long enough to get in a rebuttal. "I admit I don't know much about these things, but aren't you supposed to ask me? Was that your idea of a proposal?"

"I am the Dark Lord. Were you expecting me to kneel before you and beg?" Tom shot back.

"Well, no," Harry admitted.

"Besides, I already know what you would say. Why would I ask a question when I already know the answer?" He leaned in and kissed Harry on the cheek, considering the discussion over.

Tom and Harry re-dressed, and all throughout the process, Harry kept glancing at Tom in what he must have thought to be a covert manner. Tom caught him at it each time, and each time their eyes met, Harry looked away quickly.

They exited the bedroom calmly, both quite ready for a hearty supper. Both men were smiling quiet, serene smiles, and thinking of their future together.