Hello Everyone!

I guess last chapter was…ok? Idk, I love this story, and I want to get to the ideas that I have in my head. raven1493: Once again you have hit exactly what I'm going for. That's the whole point of my version of Lord Voldemort. He'll cause someone enough pain to destroy them, and build the bases for their loyalty, and then ensures it with kindness. I'm trying to show (as you will soon realize) that Voldemort is not cruel, he's willing to do what it takes to get what he wants, and will do whatever it takes to get what he wants, but he is not cruel. FanFiction Lover: More action on the way, don't worry. Also no I haven't decided what to do about Severus, he may or may not die, and Harry and William…well… you'll see Love, you'll see. Anyway this chapter is going to be more with Harry and the Dark Lord, more with Harry training, and William… I have big big plans for him… That being said: WARNING: There will be sex (actual sex this time) and… Well you know the drill…

I don't own Harry Potter.

Enjoy!

~Angelia Reader

Chapter Eight: Settling In

Harry's POV

The days that followed the same pattern. He woke early, showered, dressed, and made his way to the Dark Lord. He would then spend several hours by his side, sometimes kneeling, sometimes standing just behind his right shoulder, a trophy it seemed. Look what I have done his presence seemed to say Look I have tamed the great Harry Potter. The meetings with defectors of the light's army were almost steady. It seemed the news of his change of heart had spread like wildfire. Those that wished to follow his example came in floods. While most were genuine, a handful was assassins had made an appearance. More times than he could count in past week did he have to defend his Master, sinking a blade or a bullet or firing a spell into the individual before they could so much as take a step forward.

His mornings with the Dark Lord were followed by an afternoon with the soldiers in training. After his first day with William, a dozen more had come forward, wishing to challenge him and learn what he had to teach. Some scoffed at his "muggle" techniques right until the point where he proved he could kill any one of them faster than they could fire off a spell. Slowly but surely he was getting back to his post-capture fitness. His body hardened as muscle took form. He had tried to make a point of staying away from the tempting William. He remembered the spark of desire that had shimmered in his stomach, and he knew it would anger the Dark Lord if he showed interest. He had never felt this way about anyone, however. He had loved his wife with every fiber of his being, but he could admit, if only to himself, that he had harbored no attraction for her. It was almost a shock to realize it, but he had not been physically attracted to Ginny.

Sighing inwardly, Harry straightened his back as the doors to the conference room opened. He was standing today, his hands clasped behind his back, his head high, not proud, but attentive, and ready to serve his master. It was a meeting of the Inner Circle. There were twenty of them in all. All of them powerful, all of them ruthless, most of them loyal. Harry watched them file in, their eyes lingering on him just long enough to not offend the Dark Lord. They bowed as one when they took their places behind their seats. The Dark Lord nodded once, and they all sat as one.

"My Lord," Severus immediately began, "I have gotten word from our spy in the Order's southern French camp. She says that they are preparing to march on one of the small camps in the area. She says she is confident they will take it if we do not send reinforcements."

The Dark Lord was silent, turning his gaze to another.

"I have confirmed it my Lord, the Order is planning an attack. They are waiting on word from their head before moving."

The Dark Lord nodded once, "Mister Potter?" Harry straightened, coming forward so that he stood just beside his master.

"Yes my Lord?"

"What would your recommendation be? As a former Order leader, what are your thoughts on these rebels?"

"My Lord, the group in question is among those that I myself trained. They are skilled in the art of killing, with both magic and blades. There are roughly fifty gunmen that I know of, perhaps more if things have changed in the past year. They are a small camp, led by a Mister Robert Brent he's a good man, but an ineffective leader. His men will follow him, but only because they believe in their cause. They will attack from the north because that is where your camp is weak, if you are unprepared, they will take it. They will not kill anyone they don't have to; they will not take any prisoners."

"And how exactly would you know?" this came from Shean Grey. "Are you by any chance a tactical expert?" he snapped.

"No, I am only a soldier," Harry said simply. "But I know people. I know how they work, and these people I know well. I trained them after all."

"Did you blatantly interrupt someone else's training to teach your muggle tactics? I'm sure it couldn't be avoided. You are a Half-blood, correct?" His tone was light, as he insulted him.

"Yes, I am actually," Harry's tone was just as light, thinly masking the anger that boiled within him. "And as for my tactics, I am positive that I could kill you in fifty different ways before you could even react." Harry gritted his teeth. It took everything he had not to attack the man. Anger ripped through him. It was the first emotion he had felt in weeks, and it was…wonderful.

"Harry? What is he referring to?" the Dark Lord asked softly, the faintest threads of anger in his voice.

"Mister Potter has seen it fit to interrupt my training of the newest recruits in order to teach them how to swing a dagger," Grey said coldly.

"My Lord. They need to be taught how to properly fight. Your soldiers are ruthless, but that is not enough. The tides of the war are changing because they do not have the skills to fight."

"We are winning this war Mister Potter! Or are you still rooting for your precious light?" Grey snarled, glaring at him.

"I am loyal to my master, and the reason why I am the single most accomplished killer in either army save for the Dark Lord himself is because I know how to truly fight."

"Just because you can beat untrained men, does not mean you actually hold any merit when it comes to a real battle."

"And do tell, how many men have you killed?" the anger was exhilarating, a splash of color in an otherwise blank existence. "I have killed hundreds, perhaps thousands over the past five years, most without the use of my wand."

"Oh really? If you are as good as you claim, you wouldn't be here right now. I wouldn't have had the pleasure of helping in your breaking." The man smirked, his eyes dancing with amusement.

"My Lord." Harry hissed, his eyes shone with hatred.

"Do as you wish."

Harry smiled grimly, "I am better than I think I am, and if you don't believe me," Harry stepped back, into the shadows. He released just enough magic to use the shadows to "jump" from one spot to the next in the blink of an eye. He stepped behind Grey, lightly placing his hands on his shoulders, "I could have snapped your neck, slit your throat, and left you for dead before you had even realized I had moved."

The man tensed, no one except the Dark Lord had seen him move, and they all looked at him with mixed awe and shock. Grey stood abruptly, knocking the chair over. Harry stepped back just enough to move, sending a controlled kick to his side, just enough to let him feel his strength. He pulled his wand, and Harry smirked, sweeping forward and knocking it from his hand. He drew a blade with one hand, capturing Grey's wrist with the other. He pressed him back, so that his top half was lying on the table, Harry's knee pressed to his crotch, and the dagger against his throat.

It was exhilarating, the raw energy and emotion that coursed through him. Even before, he had never felt like this, never experienced anything this strong. It's a side effect of losing yourself… the Dark Lord whispered in his mind. Out loud he said, "Please don't kill my training expert," he sounded bored, with a hit of amusement and something Harry couldn't identify.

"Yes my Lord," Harry let him go, sheathing the blade as he made his way back to the head of the table.

"You fucking bastard," Grey hissed.

"That's enough Shean." The Dark Lord gave him a chilling look, and he sat back down, defeated.

"My Lord," Harry began softly, "With your permeation, I'd like to take over the task of training your army. I'm sure I have proven that my methods are more effective."

"My Lord, this is ridiculous. He is a child, and not fit to teach anyone. He would only be weakening your army if he-"

"It seems I just took care of you quiet well," he interrupted.

"Enough!" the Dark Lord commanded, and both of them immediately backed down. "You are a competent warrior Harry, but that does not mean you are capable of teaching better than Mister Grey. After all, Shean is the best trainer I've found," he paused, smiling slightly.

"How can I prove myself to you my Lord?" Harry persisted. He needed something to keep him busy.

"Fifty men, train them, and put them up against fifty of Shean's choosing in a month's time. Winner takes over." His tone left no room for argument. "Moving on."

Tom's POV

The meeting passed in a haze as it always did. He ignored most of it, there was nothing his Death Eaters could tell him that he didn't already know. He let them talk, his mind wandering to the confrontation between his trainer, and his warrior. He doubted he had ever seen anyone so graceful, so powerful, or so fucking sexy, as watching Harry pin the man to the table, preparing to kill. He truly was a beautiful man; it made the Dark Lord desire to bend him over the table right then and there, and take him fast and hard. He couldn't however, the only time he would expose something that was his like that was for shock value. His Death Eaters already knew what he was capable of; he had no reason to show his toy off to them.

The moment he dismissed them, he turned to Harry. As always, his gaze was empty. Calm and distant. It was part of missing his emotions. The only time he would feel anything is if the emotion or experience was strong enough. The Dark Lord cocked his head to the side, watching him. He stood obediently to the right of his chair, his hands clasped loosely behind his back. He stood, absently circling the boy and gained no reaction. He stopped behind him, lightly trailing his fingers through his braid. He wrapped it around his fist, pulling slightly until Harry stood pressed to his chest.

Using his hair, he jerked his head to the side, exposing his throat. Harry moaned softly, enjoying the tug on his hair. His -breath caught in his throat when the Dark Lord lowered his lips to his throat, starting just behind his ear and moving down. His pet let out a small sigh of content that ended in a moan when his teeth sank just below his pulse. He bit down just hard enough to mark him, without drawing blood. With his free hand, he reached down to cup Harry through the fabric of his pants. He was already hard.

"My Lord," he gasped, pressing himself more firmly against the Dark Lord's hand. He hardened farther at his touch.

"Do you want me to stop?" Voldemort teased, squeezing him hard suddenly, making him moan loudly before removing his hands.

"My Lord!" Harry begged. He started to reach back to touch him, but he stopped him without thinking about it.

"No touching," he murmured in his ear. The Dark Lord led him slowly forward, until Harry was bent over the long table, his cheek pressed to the cool wood. He ran his hands up his sides, guiding his arms upward until they were clasped above his head in one of Voldemort's hands. Harry strained only slightly against his hold, before relaxing. Again with his free hand, he went back to stroking him, pressing his own erection against his ass as he did. He continued to toy with him until he was moaning, and thrusting against his hand.

One handed, the Dark Lord unbuttoned his pants, shoving them down his legs before attending to Harry's pants. He bound Harry's hands in place with magic, running his hands up his bare ass before slowly sliding a single finger into him. Harry gasped, squirming in discomfort and the Dark Lord paused. This was not like before. He was not going to rape him. If Harry said stop, he would have to stop. He moved his finger slowly when Harry said nothing, curling it so that it pressed against his prostate. Harry moaned loudly, his attempts to press against his finger stopped by the magical bonds. After a moment, the Dark Lord added another finger, moving them to open him up, preparing him for penetration.

When he was sure he was read, he removed his fingers, and took hold of Harry's hips. Very slowly he eased himself into his pet, stopping when he gasped and cried out in pain. He let him grow accustomed to the feel of him before pushing more of himself into his ass. He moaned softly. He was so tight. Not the virgin he had been when he had first taken him, but close. The Dark Lord paused again for only a moment, before setting a slow rhythm. He trailed one hand down his hip, gripping his cock, and pumping it in time with his thrusts. The moans that were emitting from his lover encouraged him, and he thrust faster.

Harry's POV

"My Lord," Harry moaned, already close. He strained against the bonds, as he did something particularly crafted with his hand, sending a wave of pleasure through him. It hadn't been like this before. Before there had only been pain, only agony, but now… Harry moaned loudly, thrusting against his master's hand. He felt his lips on his throat again; kissing and sucking were he had bitten before. It would mark, but at the moment he couldn't bring himself to care.

His mind was a haze of pleasure. Like the anger before it lit up his world, giving him something to feel, rather than the cold existence that losing his soul had given him. He could feel the Dark Lord pressing deliberately against his prostate, making him writhe in pleasure. When he came, it was sudden, almost unexpected. A low scream pulled from his lips as his seed coated the Dark Lord's hand. He felt him cum only seconds after he had, with a small moan. Familiar warmth filled his lower half and the Dark Lord pressed his face against the back of his neck. Harry was panting, but he seemed remotely unfazed. Anyone else would have seen that as a blow to their ego, but as the last bit of pleasure faded from his system and he sank back into oblivion he didn't care. The Dark Lord had enjoyed it, whether he showed it or not.

He slowly pulled out of him, making him wince slightly at the pain. The bonds were released, and he stood, pulling up his pants as the Dark Lord preformed a quick cleaning spell on them both. There should have been awkwardness, but it was more of an understanding between them. They were both broken, both emotionless. He understood just as the Dark Lord did that there was nothing emotional in what they had just done. It was sex, nothing more, nothing less.

"My Lord," Harry said with a small bow, "If I may, I must select my champions."

The Dark Lord nodded once, turning away, "Return to my office this evening. My spies will be reporting soon."

"As you wish my Lord," he said, leaving without another word.

For the hundredth time he dodged a clumsy attack from one of his men. For the hundredth time he knocked the blade from his hand, and sent him sprawling into the sand.

"Again," he snapped, stepping back and allowing the man to get up. He was twice Harry's senior, but he had yet to land a single blow. He hadn't gotten to pick anyone for his fifty. No one save for the men and women that had willingly come to him wanted anything to do with this. They all thought it was a joke. To fight without magic was ludicrous. He had gotten the exact number he needed, with a little bit of persuasion. Among them was William, the boy he had battled the first time. Harry was doing his best to ignore him. There was no point in getting punished over a great smile and a nice ass, and Merlin did he have a nice ass.

"How the hell am I supposed to hit you if you don't stand still," the man snarled as he was again taken down, "Why couldn't I just stun you?"

"If someone took your wand away from you what would you do?" he asked simply, addressing all of them. "If your wand was snapped, your hands were bound behind your back and you were being led to the headsman, what would you do?"

There was silence. "Knowing how to use more than magic is an advantage that no one else has. 99% of the people you will come up against in this war will not know how to do what I can teach you. It could determine if you live or die. Now," he tossed the blade to the man, "hit me."

There was a bout of laughter as the man once again he was lying on the ground. The man, his face red with embarrassment, got up and attacked blindly, swinging out of anger, with even less precision than he had used before. Harry dodged each attack, grabbing his wrist and pinning it behind his back. He had yet to draw a weapon; there was no need with someone so unskilled.

"What has he done wrong?" he asked calmly, letting him go and pushing him gently towards the others. There was shuffling and a halfhearted answer that he had tried to attack him, but Harry only shook his head, "First lesson, never get angry. Anger clouds your judgment and gives your opponent the upper hand." He surveyed the group, picking one at random. "Next."

He managed to get through each of them, assessing their ability, and determining how much they still needed to learn. All of them, that is, except for the alluring William. He all but ignored him, focusing on the rest of his students. By the time they were released, it was dark, and the day had melted into cool twilight. He watched as they all went back to the manor, sporting new bruises and sore muscles. All but one.

William stepped forward just as he stepped out of the sandpit, "Sir," he said, as they had all taken to calling him that. "I can't help but feel like you're avoiding me." His eyes sparkled with knowledge, he knew that he was, and he likely knew why.

"I'm not," he lied easily, without much thought to it.

"Oh? Then perhaps I could get a private lesson?" he offered, "I didn't get a chance to spar with you, and I'd like to get a chance prove myself." He stepped closer so that he was standing only inches from Harry. The boy reached out and trailed his fingers down his cheek.

Harry bit his lip, but didn't step back. A wave of arousal coursed through his blood. The spark in the boy's eyes told him that he knew what he was doing to him. "No," Harry said simply. He turned away from the tempting man, and walked back to the house without another word. He had to get away from him before he did something he regretted.

"Harry," a soft familiar voice reached his ears.

"My Lord," he responded, stopping just outside the door. He didn't turn to the shadows where his master was.

"I am very impressed. I decided to see how your teaching was going, it seems you have your work cut out for you," he hissed, letting him know that he had seen the whole thing.

"It would seem so," Harry said softly, his heart pounding in his chest. He flinched when the Dark Lord's fingers came to rest on his shoulders. He hadn't felt him behind him.

"It would seem that you have quite an interesting group," his tone was casual.

"I do my Lord."

"I would hope that you can trust them all. It would be unfortunate if you had to kill one of them because they betrayed me. I would hate for something to happen to a promising warrior, because of betrayal." His fingers tightened his voice dropping to a hiss. The warning was clear.

"You have no reason to worry my lord. I said before, I am loyal to you and only you." He whispered.

"Keep it that way," the Dark Lord hissed.

Thank you for reading Everyone. So what did you think? Tell me please! I'm not sure what the next chapter will be except it will have more on William and Harry. How will Harry deal with his attraction to the boy? Wait and see ;-)!

~Angelia Reader