Hello Everyone!
So the last chapter got your attention ;-). Tenshi-Lily-Hime-Sama: Welcome aboard Love. I hope to hear more from you as the chapter's progress. FanFiction Lover: I love you my dear. You reacted exactly how I thought you would. Just don't die of a heart attack on me. So that you know I laughed until I cried at your violence. Don't worry; punishment (and death) is coming if not in this chapter than next. Gabi: come back to me Love, don't die on me yet. You'll miss all of the best parts! This chapter will bring an end to Harry and William. So be ready. That being said: WARNING: blah blah blah mention of sex blah blah blah torture.
I don't own Harry Potter.
Enjoy!
~Angelia Reader
Chapter Eleven: Revelations
Harry's POV
One week.
It had been one week since he and William had fucked, and he was still alive. He couldn't believe it. He expected any second the Dark Lord would come to him, and end his life. He was positive of it. Yet every time he was in his master's presence he gave no indication that he knew of his betrayal. Or the countless times it happened every night for the past week.
His days were consumed with training. With precious little time left before his students were pitted against Grey's he drove them harder than he ever had. He pushed them right to their limit every time, but never beyond. They were getting better. Not ready for actual combat, but more than prepared for the duel. They were becoming a unit. If things went well next week, he would begin preparing them for war. Already he could feel the bonds of brotherhood forming. They would be a force to be reckoned with if they could pass this test.
If he wasn't with his men, he was by the Dark Lord's side, attending meeting, assisting with war plans, or simply acting a secretary. Things were as they always had been between them. The Dark Lord retained the cool persona of a ruthless leader. There was no hint of the man that had conversed with him while he cooked, nor was there any indication that he looked anything more than the Lord Voldemort Harry had known since the beginning. He didn't seem to know what Harry was doing at night.
The first morning after having woken up to tangled sheets and William curled against his body he had panicked. He had all but thrown William from his bed, slamming and locking the door behind him. He was sure he was going to die. He had no idea what had come over him. He would have never touched William knowing it meant death. He supposed he could have blamed it on the fact that he was feeling vulnerable, but he knew no excuse would be enough to prevent him from death if the Dark Lord came for him. He had sworn that he would never touch the boy again, and he had stuck to that promise right until William came to his room that evening. He couldn't resist, and as with the night before they ended up in a sweaty mess come morning. He rationalized that he was living on borrowed time. Surely the Dark Lord would kill him soon. He may as well enjoy himself. They had come together every night in that week, burning with the fevered intensity of a man going to war.
Harry sighed deeply, absently stroking down the younger man's back. He didn't open his eyes as William shifted closer; he was too tired to do any more than lay there. He was a dead man, he knew that much. And as a dead man, he could indulge a bit. His only regret would be dragging his lover to his death as well. Harry trailed his fingers down his spine again, and the boy moved so that he was straddling his waist.
"Mmmm," Harry grumbled softly as his nails raked down his chest. William's fingers traced random patterns across his chest, lightly trailing along his abs, before making a circle back up. He traced up his neck, along his jaw. His fingers moved as if memorizing every feature of his face. He paused at his scar, his touch almost nonexistent. Harry smiled. There wasn't a time when he had felt so relaxed. If he didn't know any better he would have said he was in love.
William's fingers found their way into his hair, brushing it from his face. Harry sighed in content. If he was going to die, he supposed this was worth it. He tottered on the edge of sleep. His senses were numbed by some damn good sex. He almost didn't realize that something was wrong.
Almost.
William's fingers tightened in his hair, jerking his head roughly to the side.
Harry's eyes flew open in time to see the blade come down, slicing for his now exposed throat.
He bucked his hips, causing his aim to be off. He missed, slicing through the pillow instead.
His hands scrambled blindly under the nest of pillows, finding a dagger. He freed it from its sheath without thinking. Slicing up and forcing William to move or die.
The boy sprang across the room, taking a defensive crouch with the wardrobe at his back.
Harry climbed to his feet, dodging back as he swept forward again.
The blade narrowly missed his throat.
He blocked with his free hand and stabbed for his chest.
He hit nothing but air.
They moved in a slow circle, each looking for an opening.
Harry saw one.
Strike.
Block.
Back.
Circle.
In the back of his mind he was aware that this was no novice. William knew what he was doing.
He was good.
One of the best he had ever seen.
The boy attacked.
Parry.
Strike.
Miss.
Harry tripped over a fallen pillow.
He kicked.
Flying.
Crash into the nightstand.
William was on him in an instant.
The blade came down.
Deflect.
Crash.
Several pajama-clad men and women poured in.
Some with wands raised, others (to Harry's pleasure) with a dagger clutched in their hands.
William struck.
There was the unmistakable pull of power.
Their muscles locked.
The power pulled them up so that they were both standing side by side, facing the Dark Lord.
His red eyes went first to Harry, then to William, taking in their naked state, and then to the disheveled state of the bed. If he hadn't known before he knew now. His eyes flashed dangerously. Harry was suspended spread eagle in midair, the Dark Lord flicked his wand, and His arms were pulled painfully back, stopping just shy of dislocating them. Harry screamed in pain. He was fucked…
Harry knelt before the Dark Lord's desk. If it had been any other time he would have been sitting by his side, but this was different. He had figured he would have been killed on the spot, but instead he had been taken to a small room and left for hours until he was come for. He was taken to the Dark Lord's office, and interrogated.
He had told him everything; from the first night he had William to the boy trying to kill him. He spared nothing. The would-be assassin was nowhere to be found. He had been taken somewhere, most likely down to the basement. Harry felt hallowed out. He knew he should feel betrayed, or at least upset, but something in him prevented the emotion from coming. It was perhaps the worst and best feeling he had ever experienced.
"So you slept with Mister Pence, defying my orders, not once, or even twice but several in the course of this week. You then proceed to engage in combat with the young man as he had tried to kill you." His words were like ice, cutting sharper than any blade.
"Yes my Lord."
"Why shouldn't I kill you?" He demanded.
"You should my Lord. I have disobeyed and am willing to accept any punishment you feel is fit." He meant it too. He didn't know what he was thinking. He should have never even looked at William, let alone allowed him in his bed.
"Oh how I wish I could. Mister Pence's room was searched. Among his things were various letters to someone named 'T' spelling out his plans to assassinate you and complete his contract, various weapons and poisons, a type of potion that causes attraction, and this," he held up a small jar. It was the burn cream William had rubbed on his hand the first night they were together. "After having this examined by Severus, it has been revealed as a very powerful lust potion. An aphrodisiac. One touch of which will have anyone ready to fuck whatever comes there way."
"I don't understand my Lord," Harry replied. Surely it didn't mean what he thought it did.
"You were set up Harry. It seems I am not the only one whose head the Order wants."
"My Lord I-"
"I cannot kill you for something that was not wholly your doing. However, we are still questioning Mister Pence. Come." He commanded sharply, rising.
He led Harry down to the stairs, and into the basement. He hadn't been down here since he had come up. It was colder than he remembered. The echoes of water somewhere farther down reached his ears. He was expecting to be taken to William, but the Dark Lord led him into an empty cell.
"Arms above your head, back to the wall," his tone left no room for argument.
Harry did what he was told. He was still naked, no one had bothered to get him clothes, but he didn't mind. The stone was damp, the cold sinking deep into his bones. The Dark Lord waved his wand and chains snaked around his wrists so that he was bound to the wall. "My Lord?" He didn't understand, he had said he couldn't do anything because of the trickery.
"I said I would not kill you because you were betrayed," his eyes blazed hot with fury, "I never said I would not hurt you."
Fear clenched his stomach as the Dark Lord glided forward. He prepared himself for the pain of a blow. It never came. Instead, there was the press of something cool just below the chains. The Dark Lord slid his gloved hands down his arms, spreading the lust potion down them. He dipped his fingers in the jar, smearing more down his chest and stomach. He proceeded to coat the rest of his body with the cream, applying a liberal amount to his already hard cock.
Harry moaned despite himself, and tried to thrust against his hand, needing some kind of contact, but the Dark Lord pulled away. "You will stay here until I am ready to come and get you," he hissed.
A fire was burning in his blood, burning the hottest on his cock. He was already hard as steal and the cream had only been on his skin for a few seconds. He strained against the chains, hoping for some kind of friction to stop this burning, but he was held in place. He screamed, struggling harder, desire boiling him from the inside out.
"Please," he begged, straining until his muscles popped with the tension.
The Dark Lord only smirked, eyeing his handy work before turning to go. He said something just before he closed and locked the door behind him, but Harry could not hear it over his own screams for mercy.
He was burning alive, slowly but surely he was burning. Alone. In the Dark. He could think of nothing but the fire that raged in him. He wanted, no needed release. He needed to feel the press of flesh to his body, but the only contact he got was from the icy stone. It offered no release to the inferno.
Thank you for reading Everyone! So what do you think? Better? I bet you didn't see that coming! I know that this chapter is a bit short in comparison, but there's more to come next chapter, including William's death. Review Everyone! Please review. I love to hear from you.
~AR