Sweat dripped from his brow as he dodged a purple blast and he whirled around, cursing himself for not changing into more comfortable clothes, like he would do before stepping a foot on the battlefield. "Ignis Vena!" he shouted, and a network of sizzling red wires shot from the tip of his wand seemingly at random. His opponent blasted the net, which had solidified to hot ropes, apart just before it could leave burns on his skin.
"Getting vicious, are you now Potter?" Rodolphus asked, raising an eyebrow, not even for a moment relaxing his stance.
Harry just grinned at him and raised his wand again, but before he could throw another spell –and he'd been about to cast a damn good one too…- they both jumped at the sound of the doors of the training room banging open. Harry would never let Rodolphus live down the panicked expression on his face at the sound. His grin slid off his face though when a furious Marvolo stormed in Or rather... gracefully but firmly strode into the room. Dark Lords didn't storm in.
"Don't give me another headache." Harry said, wincing as anger battered on his brain. "What's wrong?"
"What's wrong? You should be in bed, that's what's wrong. And instead I find you here, doing Morgana-knows-what."
"Training" Harry cut in, annoyed, but it seemed his input was being completely ignored.
~I believe I told you to rest until Madame Pomfrey had gotten here. But of course you don't listen to me!~ Marvolo hissed, displeased
~I am not ill! I feel fine and am perfectly healthy at the moment! I was healed days ago. Why the hell should I stay in bed? I agreed to the first days because I needed rest, I did not agree to the two that followed!~ the teen threw back, equally angry now.
Marvolo's mood shifted so quickly that it was creepy, and when Harry looked around, he saw Rodolphus was nowhere to be seen anymore, the coward.
"Harry, I'm just worried about you." Marvolo muttered, placing his arms around the teen and pulling the other against his chest. Sighing, Harry laid his head against the hard surface to listen to the steady rhythm of the man's heart.
"I know. I still think you're over-worried sometimes. That you're older doesn't mean that you have to fuss over me so much love. So, I take that Ron and Madame Pomfrey arrived?"
"Yes, yes they did. I brought her upstairs to wait for us, and Ronald is searching for a room he likes."
"Thank you for letting him stay here for the time being. I know you don't like him."
"And I know you do." Marvolo answered, ruffling Harry's hair before kissing the top of the messy head. "Come, we mustn't let her waiting for too long. Who knows what angry nurses can do…"
Harry laughed. "Knowing her… more than you could ever imagine. Best go quickly." He yelped when he was picked up. "I can walk by myself!"
"Of course you can. But I prefer carrying you."
Harry rolled his eyes, but secretly loved the feeling, and he wrapped his arms around the man's neck to steady himself. He shivered lightly when noticing the heartbeat that thudded slowly against him, mingling with his own, much quicker one. He suddenly felt unexplainably happy, and got a wave of warmth in return when sharing the feeling through the link. Their minds were closed now more often than he liked, but he realised that it distracted Marvolo a lot to constantly feel and hear Harry's emotions and thoughts when trying to work. He himself didn't have that problem, as the older man had much more grip on whatever he sent through.
He gave a light sigh when at last, he was put down on his feet again. He didn't bother flattening his hair or straightening his robes. Madame Pomfrey had seen him far worse than he looked after a short round of training.
The nurse was already beside the bed, her hands in her sleeves, standing as still as a statue. Only when she saw him did she move, a slight quirk of her mouth telling him that she was pleased to see him. They had an odd relationship indeed. Despite –or perhaps because of- being one of the most regular patients in the Hospital Wing, she had always been nicer to him that others in general, and somehow he didn't get the idea that it was because he was the bloody Boy-Who-Lived.
He always knew what to expect. Maybe that was why he liked her so much. She was straightforward and didn't try to lie about things that were about to hurt, like most doctors had done before painfully plunging a needle in his arm. Before swallowing the Skele-gro, she'd told him it would be extremely gross and painful, and somehow, he minded that much less than if she would have given him something that hurt less, but of which she would have said that it wouldn't hurt at all. Her honesty was a trait he favoured above anything else.
She approached him and gave him a short nod, ignoring Marvolo completely, which he had somehow expected. He was sure that she would go far lengths to irritate her kidnapper, even though it was Harry who was to blame for her being here.
XxX
"Now, Mr Potter, lie down on the bed." Poppy strictly said, pleased when the boy did so immediately and less pleased with the Dark Lord who was practically breathing in her neck, watching the both of them like a hawk. She felt much for turning around and poking him in the eye, but something told her that wasn't a good idea. Perhaps the fact that his wand was drawn and pressed against her spine. "Good, now, hold still while I scan you."
Drawing her own wand, she approached the bed and conjured several scanning orbs that went through the boy's skin at several points, gathering information. The silence hung thick in the room as all three of them watched the pulsing green flashes that appeared on the skin's surface. Minutes later they returned to her, and she frowned.
"This will be tougher than I thought. Physically, nothing is wrong with you. That leaves an irregularity in either your mental or magical state, both of which are impossible to simply scan. It might also be that your magic reacts to your mental state or, something else entirely."
"Something else entirely?" Harry asked, sounding frightened. "Well that are a lot of options that I don't really like. What else could it be?"
"Possession by a creature, a curse placed on you… the chances for both of these are rather small though."
"But you can do something? Whatever it is?" The Dark Lord asked, sounding tense.
"Of course, I'm a Healer. I was trained in more than healing physical injuries." Poppy stated, offended. "Potter, when do you get ill? Is there any sort of pattern?"
"I... don't know. Well, it's always when I'm asleep, but I can't really remember if anything happens… Sometimes Marvolo was there, but he said that nothing strange happened. It just starts with me suddenly thrashing, sweating and mumbling… right?"
"Marvolo?"Poppy said. It would be much easier if she could speak to an actual witness of it… "Could you call this man here?"
"I'm already here." The Dark Lord behind her said, and she mentally cursed. Bloody great. Him.
"Describe to me the first time this happened." She demanded, not even trying to hide her surly tone.
"The first, the last... they're all the same. When he is asleep nothing is wrong, but in the middle of the night he begins to trash, lash out, sweat, shiver… And when he wakes up he often has a high fever. The disease itself isn't bad. Flu, migraine… common Muggle diseases."
"Diseases you shouldn't be able to get…" she muttered. "Let me check that…" This time, she ran a more thorough check, and while again, the result was that he was physically healthy, she did notice something peculiar. Or rather, it was normal, but peculiar from what she had just heard. "You indeed shouldn't be able to get these diseases. You have all necessary magical antibodies. I am clueless as to why they don't do their job."
"Magical antibodies…? Harry asked, but before she had a chance to explain, the Dark Lord spoke up.
"The body of Muggles makes antibodies while ill and for some time after having the disease. With wizards though, their magic can recognise and duplicate the antibodies of people around you who have them, so you do not need to have been ill to get your body start making them. The only disadvantage is that, should your magic be stopped in some way, you are vulnerable to diseases as your body itself has never created them and thus can't do so either. Your magic, however, hasn't been stopped, hence why you do have the antibodies that your magic picked up from someone else a long time ago and constantly creates now. There is indeed no reason as to why they aren't doing what they should."
"And what would happen if you would try making me ill right now?" Harry asked.
"No." the Dark Lord immediately loudly said.
"A weak version! Muggles do it too!"
"I said no."
"It might be an idea." Poppy butted in. "We could observe what happens. Besides, I could heal it again in a second."
Red eyes flicked between her and the boy on the bed for a few seconds before the man breathed out slowly. Someone needed to work on anger management…
"A weak version. If you get no results I will heal him."
"Fine. Rapida Laboro Malforta Mikrobo Gripo!" She said, pointing her wand at the boy's mouth. They waited a few minutes but absolutely nothing happened. A quick scan told her that most of the microbes had been completely erased and others were about to be, like they should.
"Right. Nothing wrong with your antibodies when they're there." She sighed. "I need more information. I might be trying to tackle this problem from a completely wrong angle. Harry, whenever you sleep… does something strange happen? Or do you have bad dreams?"
The chance in posture was minimal. Muscles twitching, his back hunching over slightly more, the boy's arm shifting an inch… To her trained eye, it was more than enough.
"Harry… I know not all of your scars are from Quidditch." she quietly said. "You have nothing to be ashamed of…" She felt magic building up and quickly took a step back as her patient began to shake, trying to hold himself together. "Harry?"
Then, he coughed. Once, twice… Shivering, the teen curled up. Before she could move a finger, the Dark Lord strode to the bed and healed the other.
"Well… good thing is that I now know what is wrong with him… bad news is that I do not have a quick cure for it. I'd hoped I could at least have healed him before Christmas."
"Christmas?" Harry said, bewildered.
"Yes…" Pomfrey said. "It's Thursday the twenty-first Harry… Christmas holidays at Hogwarts start this saturday…"
"Why do you think I wanted Weasley to leave as soon as possible? He wouldn't have been able to get the nurse here when at home, could he? Had you honestly forgotten?"
"Guess my head was just... elsewhere… We haven't spoken about Christmas at all." Harry frowned, and Pomfrey got the idea that this was probably not a conversation she wanted to hear.
"Illness. Potter. Solution. Anyone here still following me?" If she hadn't been so certain of that she were needed to much to be harmed, she'd never dared to use such a tone, but as it was, she was one of the few people in the safe-zone.
"Yes, of course." the Dark Lord said, clearly irritated when he spun around to face her. His hand twitched, but otherwise he showed no other sign of that he had noticed her rudeness. "Nightmares trigger his magic so it all concentrates on trying to erase that from his mind, but then it neglects its other duties, and as the house is not automatically cleansed of microbes that can't usually harm a wizard at all, Harry has falls ill. Solution: none that I can currently see except rid the house of those microbes. He has been through an ibu to restore his magic recently so all that could be done has been done in that regard. The only solution would be to overcome his trauma, which could take years of therapy. Sorry Harry, merely stating facts." he said apologetically to the teen, who had curled up into himself even more. "Would it help his trauma if the offenders were dead?"
For a moment, she thought he was joking, but she could find nothing in his expression but dead seriousness. She was afraid to answer while knowing that her next words could very well decide the lives of several people. it wasn't hard to guess where Harry's trauma came from. They weren't good people, she knew as much from what she had found on the boy even when he had first arrived in her hospital wing, but they were still human beings. That the logical answer was 'yes' didn't really make her feel much better.
Her dilemma was temporarily delayed with his next question, although that one didn't really make her feel better. "You said that you knew where his scars came from. Why did you never report it?"
"Because I couldn't. My job is a confidential one. Without permission of the patient I am literally unable to convey information about their condition to anyone. The moment my magic touches them to heal them I enter a magical contract."
"And the permission? Should it be explicitly given through a written or vocal contract?"
"No, nothing like that. My magic recognises their consent. Otherwise I wouldn't even have been able to speak to you about his current state. After all, he did not state his permission."
"Interesting… Now, for the previous question. You silence was as good an answer as any. It is time that they pay for their crimes."
"NO." Harry suddenly stated, and the two adults turned to the teen, who had a determined expression on his face. "No, I want them to suffer. I want them to see this world, their perfect normal world, change into something they can't comprehend and will hate. I want them to be forced to live in a place where magical people will be just as accepted as they always have been. And I also want them to see me, what I have become. They can't be killed yet."
The Dark Lord sighed and rested his hand on the boy's head, his face disturbingly worried and human. Poppy turned away, but her resolve to see this man as the killer he was faded when she saw him interact with Potter. "I hold your health in higher regard than perfect revenge." he said, but even though Potter hummed and…butted his head against the hand like a damned pet, he finally looked up to the other with bright eyes.
"But it is not your revenge. It is mine. As such, it is also my decision to make. I will agree to some form of therapy, but the Dursleys will be left alone for now."
"Some form?"
"Only from someone I know." he stubbornly said, turning his hopeful gaze to Poppy. She hesitated, not knowing what to do. She wasn't qualified as a therapist, and had no idea how to even start. Besides that, she was the only Healer at Hogwarts, and the students there needed her as well.
"I can't." She stated, and her heart broke when despair entered his eyes. "I do not have the experience… I'm sorry."
A high hissing filled the room once more, and an unpleasant shiver went down her spine. It even sounded creepy when Potter spoke it, but the Dark Lord's voice sounded as if he was a demon summoned from that place Muggles called hell. Still, she wouldn't let him intimidate her in any way, so she pretended not to hear them and took in the room. It was clearly the master bedroom, and even if she hadn't seen how the Dark Lord reacted on Potter, this would have been a dead giveaway. She tried very hard not to picture the two of them being… intimate, but somehow it was a fascinating concept. Not like a school girl would be fascinated about it, of course, but to imagine something so twisted and mutilated as that man's body naked both intrigued and disgusted the Healer in her. It was a miracle to her that he could still function, and she came to the conclusion that it could only be that magic had taken over the functions that had stopped working or did not work optimally.
Still, no matter how interesting it was, she was not surprised by the lack of mirrors in the room.
What did surprise her though, was how normal the room looked. A tad dark in colour, but very warm and comfortable. Not the first things she would have associated with the Dark Lord. She walked towards the window, turning her back on the other two to give them a bit more privacy. While she couldn't understand them, she had noticed that they held back in touching if they were observed –something for which part of her was grateful-, but this was their house, their room, and she felt that it would only be appropriate if she were the one to hold back, not the other way around.
While gazing out of the window, hearing the now soft whispers behind her made her smile. Despite Dumbledore's nagging, he had never been able to fully convince her that someone could be fully, completely evil, and it was a relief to see that she had been right in that regard. Of course, if she would ever have a say in it, that man should get a life sentence in Azkaban for all his crimes, but it was good to know that even he was not evil itself on this world. Even through her cynic view on life, it made her smile.
However, staring at a rainy hill for what seemed like hours was too much for her patience, so in the end, she spoke up. "So, are you going to let me return Hogwarts? I cannot do much more for you Mr Potter, and knowing you, I doubt that you would want me to neglect my other patients for just a chat with you." She turned around, not really surprised when seeing that the Dark Lord had seated himself on the bed, Potter half on his lap.
The Dark Lord let out a disbelieving laugh. "Let you return? Just like that? With memories intact and no security at all? Who is to say you won't run straight to Dumbledore? Your contract with Harry does not cover any other information than about his health. No, I don't think so."
She pressed her lips tightly together. And here she had almost begun to be able to stand him. "Well." She finally brusquely said. "I suppose that, should Mr Potter require any other assistance, he can go find another nurse then, as I won't remember a thing."
The next minute was the hardest staring contests she'd ever held, and that said something; in her fifth year as a Hogwarts' student she had even beaten the caretaker's cat. When red eyes finally turned away, she mentally chalked 'Dark Lord Voldemort' on her victory list.
"I will set up a contract. And don't you even think about trying to find loopholes: there won't be any." he growled, abruptly standing and stalking out of the room with long strides.
"So… what will happen now?" Harry asked, sounding nervous.
"Well, as you are physically fine, it is no good trying to keep you confined to bed, so until you find a therapist, there is really not much that can be done. I suppose life will go on like usually, however it is that you like to spend your days… or are allowed to."
She raised her eyebrows when he angrily glared at her. "I am allowed to do whatever I want. I'm here because I want to."
"Purely out of curiousity… how long have you been together?" She asked, genuinely interested.
"About half a year." Harry mumbled, a smile tugging at his lips and his eyes instantly softening. Pomfrey smiled as well at his loving expression. "Are we really that obvious?"
"Quite." she smiled.
"So, how are things at Hogwarts?"
"Oh, much the same. Quidditch did not stop because you and those damned twins quit the Gryffindor team Potter. Broken bones, bruises, brain damage… Honestly, I think venturing into the forbidden forest is much safer than playing Quidditch. It seems our dear headmaster has a thing for forbidding relatively dangerous things and encouraging very dangerous ones."
"I actually want to try to become a professional player after the war." Harry cheerily said, and Poppy groaned.
"You would. I'll make sure to have the whole of St Mungo's ready for that day." She actually doubted that they could be… Even in the 'friendly' Hogwarts Quidditch games the hospital wing was packed full with injured students.
"Much appreciated." another voice said, and they looked up to find the Dark Lord returned, a thick scroll in his hands. She was amazed by how fast he had set the contract up. It had been only minutes since he had left. He did look extremely tired on a second notice, so perhaps he had altered time. He handed her the scroll and gave her a dangerous look. "Read it, sign it, and follow it if you don't want to die."
She practically snatched it from his hand. "Yes yes, I'd figured that when you went to set this up already. There's no need to go all ominous on me." She sat down on one of the two chairs in the room and started to read it though thoroughly, not bothering to check the Dark Lord's reaction. It really was as loophole-free as he'd said it would be. It really was a perfect secrecy contract. If she had actually been planning to tell Dumbledore or anyone else anything, this would have made it impossible. Even the method of 'I'm lying to you but making it so obvious that you know I am lying' had been included in it. When she was finally through it all, twenty minutes had passed. Taking the quill she was being offered, she signed her name, and the contract shone bright silver before disappearing.
"How can I return to the castle?" She asked.
"Portus." the Dark Lord said, pointing his wand at the quill in her hands." Next thing she knew, she was in the Dark tunnel again where she'd left.
"Rude much?" she huffed, brushing the dust off of her skirt.
XxX
Hands carded through his hair and Harry leaned further into the touch, enjoying the feeling of nails scraping his scalp softly. Breathing in the man's scent, he buried his face in the crook of a pale neck.
"I'm glad I know what's wrong with me now." he said. "But I still don't know what to do now…"
"I will ask around among the people you know first to see if anyone is qualified as therapist or has at least some sort of experience with it."
"And if not?"
"Then we'll look for another solution. Harry, don't worry so much…" Marvolo gently said as the teen tensed up. "At least we can prevent you from falling ill again now by ridding the house of any microbes."
"Marvolo? How come I didn't fall ill during my ibu? My magic was sealed then as well."
"Yes, but an ibu is a natural process. Most of your magic sealed itself away, but there is always a bit that lingers, not enough for you to use, but enough to take care of the usual passive processes in your body. During your nightmares though, your magic is all forced to concentrate on erasing the dream, every single bit of it."
"Don't more people have such a thing?"
"Could be, but most Wizarding children grow up in good environments."
"And… and you?"
Marvolo was silent for some time, and when he did speak again, his voice sounded strange, as if he were far away. "I did have nightmares. But I used other means to erase them. I took care of the problem while I was awake, and I had a fierce control over my own magic. I am my magic, and therefore it doesn't do anything I do not actively allow."
"Even when you were… unstable…?"
"Yes. My mind had deteriorated, but my magic still followed that mind, hence the destruction that I brought forth."
"Marvolo? Completely off-topic but... why don't you celebrate Christmas?"
"I never really gave it much thought… There always is an annual Yule Ball at Malfoy Manor, but I could never show up among people like the Minister of Magic. They would have arrested me on the spot. I never really had anyone to celebrate it with, and really, after my Hogwarts years I was always too busy to celebrate any holiday. I didn't know it meant so much to you."
"I never did until Hogwarts… but then…" the teen smiled, remembering the first presents had been given. "It was such a wonderful feeling, knowing someone cared."
Arms wrapped around him and held him tightly. "Well, while I have nothing prepared, this time we could go to the ball if you want to. Everyone is aware of that I'm back, and while I still haven't heard any sort of reaction from the Ministry's side, they will not throw me in prison while about half of the population is either at my side or thinking of joining me."
"I'd love to go!" Harry said. "Be warned though: I can't dance."
Marvolo laughed and quickly kissed his head. "I'll teach you. Now, there is someone who wants to see you."
"Ron!"
"Indeed. He shouldn't be far away. I sent him upstairs to search a room to stay in for the time being."
Harry kissed his lover briefly on the lips and tried to jump up but suddenly found himself pinned to the bed.
"Don't think you can get away that quickly after a kiss." Marvolo growled, and proceeded to ravish the boy's mouth, getting turned on by Harry's moans.
"Mph... Ma…Marvolo." Harry managed to say. The Dark Lord hummed, released the teen after a last, long lingering swipe of his tongue, which had conveniently turned forked. "I thought you said I had to hurry because Ron was waiting?"
"I didn't breathe a word about hurrying up. I merely stated the fact that he was awaiting your presence. For all I care he can wait until he grows a unicorn horn."
"Speaking of horns…" Harry said, biting his lips to suppress a giggle as Marvolo quirked a suggestive eyebrow.
Needing no further encouragement, the man leaned in closer again, his body fast and agile. With deft fingers, he undid the boy's robes and made quick work of his own. Harry automatically rubbed his back against the mattress to get a bit more warmth as cool air hit his skin. Despite being inside, it was still December, and the house hadn't been warmed up much. The House-elves still didn't really see him as their Master, and thus provided the maximal comfort for Marvolo only, which sadly, included a lower temperature as anyone else would think pleasant.
Seeing Harry's goose bumps, the other quickly warmed the room, and Harry sagged in relief as the temperature went up. "Much better." he murmured, but then he momentarily forgot how to produce any sound but mewls as a teasing, wet tongue slowly started to trace the shell of his ear. He was aware of every patch of skin that Marvolo was pressing against, and even more so of every piece that wasn't being touched yet, but should be. He didn't care that he seemed desperate as he ran his hands over the man's ribcage and sides, but he needed more.
After a long time of being too busy to think of sex though, Marvolo appeared to have other plans, and mercilessly teased him by giving him a light stroke here and a raking of nails there, enough to make him cry out in frustration but never enough to feel.
"Touch me!" he hissed through his teeth, getting furious by the slow pace.
It fell to deaf ears. He found his hands suddenly stuck above his head, immobilized. Dread spread through him, knowing the other wouldn't be done playing for a long time. He reluctantly gave in to the kisses that were placed on him and Harry made sure that the message that anything he enjoyed would be under protest was clear to his lover. Finger pads traced his body, the feeling lingering even after the hands had pulled away. Marvolo moved excruciatingly slowly, his eyes closed in bliss as he reveled every languid move.
It was impossible though, to hold back a moan when his left nipple was briefly flicked with long nails, and Harry's chest heaved heavily, arching up to have it repeated. He sighed softly as a mouth enclosed the small bud, the sweet, arousing feeling of wet, sucking movements making him both aroused and relaxed. With hazy eyes, he watched Marvolo, and Harry's head lolled to one side to get a better look. He shuddered at the sight of a tiny transparent thread of saliva that connected them for a second after the other had pulled away, before it broke.
"I love you." Marvolo suddenly said. "I really, really love you."
Fuzzy feelings warmed his insides and he tried to hide his blush by turning his head away from the serious look his lover gave him. "I love you too." he mumbled, feeling a bit foolish by how shy this man could make him feel still.
Harry blinked as he suddenly found himself able to move his hands again, and he immediately placed them on the sides of Marvolo's face. He leaned upward, kissing the man to convey his own emotions.
"Marvolo…" he breathed, but then his eyes widened as he suddenly felt something cold stroking his erection. It cost him all his willpower to not move and buck his hips up, but he managed somehow by occupying his hands with the task of trying to squish the man's shoulders. He made a noise in the back of his throat and his head gave a dull thud as it fell against the man's collarbone. His shaft was explored with deliberately slow, careful movements that made him feel frustration and pleasure alike. Finally, he just gave up. "Please." he ground out, feeling the smugness almost radiate through the link.
Feeling momentarily disorientated, he realized that within a second, he'd been flipped over, and that a hand was keeping him there by roughly pressing into his back. Harry hissed as a finger intruded him, for once no time wasted with spells, and it stung more than he'd thought. He winced again as it curved, and this time he felt Marvolo flinch slightly as well. it seemed their mind-link had even more advantages than he'd known of. The digit retreated slowly, and only pushed in when it was adequately covered in a slick substance. As no spells had been said, he was confused for a moment, until he looked back and saw an opened bottle of oil on the bed, next to his leg.
Harry moaned as Marvolo moved within him. He stuck his hips up and spread his legs a bit so the other would be able to plunge in deeper. Clawing at the sheets when his spine was traced lightly with another, oil-covered finger, Harry swore that he'd found a new favourite tool. The slipperiness reminded him of the few times he'd had sex with Marvolo in his Animagus form, only this time it was warmer. Groaning as more oil was poured on his skin and spread out, the boy just sagged down on the bed, not caring about anything else anymore. The finger dug deep in him, soon joined by another, but any remnant of pain was washed away by the feel of the smooth hand that rubbed up and down his back, leaving it shining.
Harry wetted his lips at the same time the fingers retreated. He gasped softly when they were immediately replaced, and despite being prepared, he had to bite the nearest pillow to not cry out as Marvolo pushed in. He forced the link to remain open when he felt that Marvolo was trying to shut it down for his own comfort.
Oh no, if I have to take it, you will as well. He thought maliciously, which earned him a weak slap on the back of his head. He finally found air again after breathing in and out deeply a few times. Several long seconds ticked by before he finally dared to move, but when he did, it felt better than anything in a long time. An oily hand reached around his waist, finally paying proper attention to his leaking cock. The aromatic scent mingled with that of their bodies, filling the air with a strong odor that made him dizzy.
Marvolo rolled his hips, pressing himself closer to the teen, taking pleasure in the reactions of his lover. His left hand, which rested on Harry's hip, threatened to lose grip with each push, so he shifted both of them until Harry was on top, breathing heavily, his eyes half-lidded. Patches of his skin gleamed, and Marvolo ran his hand over them as Harry frantically moved up and down, aiming to be penetrated as deeply as possible. The Dark Lord thrusted upwards as he felt his climax building.
He pulled Harry down, holding the teen tightly to his chest and sinking his teeth in the pale skin of Harry's neck. He grabbed Harry's ass with one hand, pushing him down even further until his balls were pressed snugly against the small behind. He released a strangled growl against Harry's neck as his semen spurted inside the hot channel, while Harry was rubbing his own arousal against Marvolo's lower stomach to create more friction. The man took one of the still slick nipples in between his fingers and twisted it slightly, finally sending Harry over the edge too.
They lay in bed for a while after, relishing in the afterglow and not in any mood to get up. After some time though, Harry remembered Ron, who was still waiting for him, and with an unenthusiastic groan, he forced himself to sit upright, making sure his sore bottom didn't touch the bed.
"We should clean up." He reluctantly said. Marvolo merely hummed noncommittally, his eyes still closed. Harry shook his head, smiling and leaning in for a kiss. "Get." kiss "Up." kiss "Or." kiss "We might get run into by a nosy Gryffindor."
"He wouldn't dare." Marvolo growled, but despite that, he finally moved as well until he sat on the edge of the bed. They silently dressed and Harry cleaned up the room with a few spells. –After months of living with Marvolo, Harry had become an expert at cleaning charms.- Yawning, Harry pushed the door open and turned around, surprised when Marvolo had let himself fall back on the bed.
"Aren't you coming?"
"I got the impression that you and he had mostly friendly chat to catch up on. I do not think my presence will stimulate the conversation. But don't fret; I will keep the link open. I do have some work still, but it won't be much of a hindrance."
"What sort of work?"
"Barty finally sent in all the reports regarding the various creatures he has visited. Until now, he only handed me those concerning the Giants. He is a good man to have in the field, but documentation is not his forte."
"Good luck with that. I'll see you soon then." Harry smiled, and went to search for Ron.
He found his friend not very far away. After having crossed about half the corridor, he could already hear stumbling in one of the rooms, and when he walked in, he saw Ron hopping around on one leg, holding his right feet, a painful expression on his face.
"What are you doing?" Harry asked, amused.
"Harry! Good to see you! Ouch, Merlin's hairy balls… Why do you have a bathtub that likes to step on people's feet?"
A clanking sound came from the bathroom, and Harry looked at the door with worry. "Sorry. I really wasn't aware of any malicious furniture standing around here. Perhaps it just doesn't like you?"
"Doesn't like me? Well I'm sorry, but I didn't think I'd have to make the bathtub like me to get clean when coming here!" Ron said, wincing. He sat down on the bed, muttering under his breath while massaging his toes. "it really is good to see you though. It's been too long."
"It sure is. How are you? And how's Hermione?" Harry asked, surprised when Ron's face fell.
"I uhm.. was kind of stupid and unsubtle."
"Big surprise there. You didn't confess to her did you?"
Ron gawked at him. "How'd you know?"
Harry buried his head in his hands. "Oh Morgana." he mumbled. "You actually did. What did she say?"
"She slapped me." the other meekly said. "And told me that I should have told her either sooner or later, not while I was leaving. I guess she has a point, but I just… just…"
"Couldn't help yourself?"
"Yeah." Ron sighed. "Other than that, I'm fine. Very glad to be here now. Hogwarts just hasn't been the same. It's turned so boring without you there to throw myself into adventure with. You really attract trouble, you know that?"
"So I've been told." Harry grinned. "And now, I think you'd better search for another room, this time without evil bathtubs. You can have my old one."
"Your old one?"
"Yeah, the one I slept in the first time I came here. I actually can't really remember if I even used it more than once…"
"Where'd you sleep after?"
Harry threw Ron a 'isn't that obvious' look, but his friend still gave him a blank stare in return.
"In Marvolo's room of course." he muttered, feeling heat go to his cheeks.
"Oh… Oh." Ron replied, his look a mixture of dawning understanding and horror. "Oh yes. Hey, you were kidding in your letter were you? About the snogging?"
"Sorry, dead serious." Harry answered. "It is our house."
"But Harry… He looks all…" Odd hand movements, as if Ron was trying to imitate a bunch of tentacles on his face, finished his sentence.
"I don't recall him turning into the Giant Squid all of a sudden." was Harry's dry answer. "I happen to like his looks, okay?"
"You are the strangest person ever."
"Wow, I beat Luna?" Harry laughed.
"Alright, maybe not the strangest, but you're close!"
Harry spent the following two days catching up on all the things he'd missed out on with Ron. He finally took up his broom again and they had one-on-one Quidditch with pinecones they had found in the garden and enchanted to whiz around. They had spent nearly all of their time together during the past days, apart from a few hours in which Ron had his first mission.
As he was the only one who the Order didn't know of that was Dark yet, he was sent to Grimmauld place to steal the portrait of Phineas Nigellus. It had bothered Harry that he didn't have any way to communicate with the Sorting Hat and Eldur anymore since he had left Hogwarts. Ron had been lucky enough to find the house empty of all but Sirius and Remus, who had been chatting quietly in the kitchen and had not noticed him. Pitifully, he had not been able to overhear the conversation. He had also almost been seen by Kreacher, but the elf had been so busy 'saving' a pile of old smelly clothes that he'd walked past Ron without noticing the teen. Luckily, Phineas had been in his other portrait. When he did pay a visit to his other frame, both Harry and Ron were treated on a colourful wave of curses until Marvolo showed up. The frame now hung in the hall, as demanded by the snarky wizard.
At the moment however, Marvolo had forced Ron to go to the library and catch up to necessary information about the war. Harry, whose time to buying a Christmas present for Marvolo was running out, portkeyed to Diagon Alley, also curious for the Twin's shop. It was exactly what he had expected: Loud, colourful and impossible to miss.
It was as if he stepped into a whirling mass of sound and colours. He could hardly reach any shelves, even when trying to elbow his way through the people, but the walls were so high that he could see most of the ridiculous and funny items that were displayed. A complete pink section with a bunch of giggling girls around it told him to stay far away from at least one part of the shop, but he doubted he could see everything in one go anyways. It was massive in here, a lot bigger on the inside than one would guess when standing in front of it, and even then it was one of the largest shops in Diagon Alley.
He cursed when nearly being ran over by two young children who tried to push their way past him to the 'dangerous toys' section. Mentally cursing them, he stood up straight again and mentally berated himself for forgetting Christmas. As Marvolo apparently didn't celebrate it, he too had not mentioned it, but to Harry it had become important over the years. And so here he was, trying to find a present for his lover the day before Christmas. It was hell.
He finally spotted the twins, who were hanging around the counter, talking to someone while making enthusiastic gestures with their arms. He considered shouting, but rejected that idea immediately. The only way they would hear him here was if he would shout directly into their ears. After minutes of pushing himself through the crowd, he finally reached them, seeing that the man they'd spoken to had disappeared.
"Hey!" he called out, waving his hand, for a moment forgetting that he was in disguise.
"Good day sir, can we be of service?"
Harry laughed when he realized his mistake. "Oh, sorry, it's me, Harry. People out for my life and all…"
"Harry? Blimey, what have you done to your hair." Fred said with disapproval, clacking his tongue.
"And since when are you my personal stylist?"
"Since I discovered you have poor taste. What about ginger hair?"
"No thank you." Harry answered dryly.
"Just to make sure… Your third year. What did we give you and how do you use it?" George asked, leaning forward so no-one else could overhear. Harry had to lean in very close to to even hear his words.
"The map. I solemnly swear I'm up to no good."
"Right. So… here for business?"
"Or just to say hi,"
"to your amazing, sexy servants?"
They both swooned at the last line in a way that made Harry wish he was able to instantly die.
"Please don't say it like that." the boy groaned, putting his face in his hands while the Twins burst out in laughter and gave each other a weird handshake.
"And actually, I was hoping you could help me. I didn't really keep track of the date last... months, and only found out now that Christmas is in a few days… I know Marvolo doesn't really celebrate it, but I'd still like to give him a present. Thing is, I have no idea what, or where to get it."
"Brilliant idea to come here Harry!"
"Hopefully we have just what you need!"
"Ah, actually…" Harry started, wondering how to say this without hurting their feelings. "I don't really think he's one for prank presents?"
"Not even the U-No-Poo?" Fred asked with a shit-eating smile.
Harry quirked an eyebrow. "I thought he made you rename that one?"
"Officially." George said, his teeth flashing in a way that would make the devil jealous.
"Right. No, no constipation products please. I know you're very busy now but…"
"But of course we could make some time! And as He basically owns everything in our shop already, I don't think you'd find a very good gift for him here… I take it he's not much of a jewelry-man?"
'Not really. And I know he likes books, but the library is so huge that I'm afraid that the chance of buying him something he already has is too great to risk."
"I know of a great series actually…" George said, tapping his chin. "Fred, help me, I can't remember all the names of the books… It's Defence against the Dark Arts stuff. Vampires, Werewolves, Yeti's…"
"Oh yes!" Fred exclaimed, snapping his fingers. "Year with the Yeti, Wandering with Werewolves, Break with a Banshee- ouch! Hey!"
"You deserved it." Harry snorted, putting the newspaper with which he'd slapped Fred on the counter again.
"That was incredibly uncalled for." the other pouted.
"But very satisfactory. Now, any real ideas?"
"Are you sure that…" Harry asked for the tenth time.
"Yes, the shop will be opportunity for the final test of the Confundus Cloud too. Not that that one will be sold, pitifully. Can too easily be used as a tool in the war. We don't accidentally want unpleasant people to use our inventions against us."
"So, where are we going?"
"Knockturn." Fred said. "Knockturn and beyond."
"Beyond?"
"Of course, you didn't really think the centre of the Wizarding world in London consisted of two shabby streets, did you? Knockturn is only the first street of small district. And if you were to walk through the alley in between Madam Malkin's robes and Flourish and Blott's you'd find yourself in Tom Alley. During the day it's the place to be for expensive dinners and during the night, the wild night life starts there. It's all very expensive and exclusive. Never heard of it?"
"No, actually."
"I suppose that you'll see it more often when the Ministry is taken over by the Dark. Most of the meetings that are discussed over a glass of fine wine are held in Tom Alley."
"Marvolo never mentioned it. I suspect he doesn't like the name. Seriously, what kind of name is 'Tom Alley' anyways?"
Fred looked at George, shrugging, but the other spoke up: "Tomalley is apparently some kind of delicatessen. Lobster paste, if I'm not mistaken."
"Must they really make a pun out of everything?" Harry said, shaking his head. Please tell me that the 'beyond' Knockturn has regular street names."
"No such luck Harry, but don't worry, no more puns, I think."
"That makes me feel so much better. Come on, I only have an hour or two left before a certain someone will send out a search party."
"Make that one and a half then." Fred responded dryly.
"Good idea."
"Now, the general rule in this section is 'look as if you belong here but mind your own business.' With recent developments, I don't really think any rules apply to you anymore, but just to be sure, please follow it."
"Thanks for the advice. Where exactly are we going?"
"Oh, you know…"
"Some shop."
Their vague statement did nothing to easy his discomfort as they went deeper and deeper into the dodgy parts of Wizarding London. Shadows without anything to cast them appeared on walls, dim lights flickered and the air seemed to be fogged with whispers. He'd rather spent a night in the Shrieking Shack than more than an hour in this forsaken place. The Twins walked over the dark grey, irregular cobblestone path with confidence though, and it was clear that they had been here many times, most likely to buy ingredients of questionable legality. Other than shops, there were also many houses, and Harry really wondered who lived here. Even as a poor wizard or witch, one could easily make their own house with magic, like the Weasleys had done, so why go to such a filthy place?
Suspicious eyes followed them from behind several smudges windows as they passed, and it seemed a night spell had been cast over the whole neighbourhood. He knew it was afternoon, but not a single ray of daylight managed to touch the ground. Finally, they stopped in front of a door that didn't seem very different from the rest, apart from a Latin spell or name that had been carved in the wood and had then rotten half away. He could barely decipher the words 'Venenato Nebula', and though it was another language, he was pretty sure he could guess the meaning correctly.
"Well, when searching a present for the Dark Lord, this really is the only shop I can think of." George told him. "Compared to this, Borgin and Burkes is a cheap joke."
The first thing that made the hairs in his neck rise when they entered it were the mirrors. More than fifty Harry's gazed down on him, some with malicious smirks, some pearly as if they were ghosts, and others showed him from the back, making him fear for the moment they would turn around and face him. Thick chains were wrapped around all of them, but it did nothing to make him feel safe as one of the Harry's suddenly began to cackle and stretched out his hand.
He jumped when he felt another hand, pushing at his lower back. "Ignore the mirrors Harry." Fred mumbled, clearly not very comfortable here either.
"Where is the shop owner?" Harry whispered back, not spotting anyone.
"She'll come. First, let's look around."
Careful to keep a fair distance between him and the items, Harry walked around. George hadn't been kidding. There were no jars of eyeballs here, cursed rings or clattering dentures. Instead, he saw puppets of which the strings shimmered ominously, a massive portrait of a demon god, dark red runes that hung upside-down and instruments that made him think of the ones in Dumbledore's office, but definitely darker. And then there were the mirrors, now also reflecting Fred and George, observing the three of them. Quills that would slowly poison the user until it was too late, a bunch of very familiar black candles that Harry recalled seeing in the attic, flasks of potions without labels and several masks that reminded him of the one Stryker had shown him.
"What can I help you with?" a soft voice said, and Harry turned around, seeing a young woman who stood out because of how… ordinary she looked in the environment. Plain robes, a pretty face and half-long, brown waving hair. Still, he knew how deceiving looks could be, and the glint in her eyes told of malice. She reminded him strangely of when he had met Tom Riddle in the Chamber.
"I'm searching for a… a present." he said, feeling pretty foolish when looking around.
"A present?" she asked, a mocking smile on her lips. "For friend or enemy?"
"Friend." he said, and she looked surprised. He couldn't blame her. This shop didn't seem like the first place to browse for gifts. "The Dark Lord." he said, before she could tell him to go someplace else.
She merely hummed and turned around. "Follow me. He has been here before quite some times, and whatever he thought interesting that stood here, he already has. I do have some new trinkets that he would like to have, I think."
"He came here before?" Harry asked, wondering when Marvolo had been away.
"Yes, many years ago." she mumbled, and Harry realized she was talking about before his death.
"Wait, then how old-" he was cut off by a poke in the ribs from George.
"Never ask a lady her age Harry. It's terribly impolite."
"Especially as said lady could kill you with ninety percent of the stuff she owns." Fred continued.
They entered a smaller room through a door that seemed to be made of thick black hair. The room was practically bare, apart from a table, a few chairs, and three small chests. It didn't look as eerie as the rest of the building though. The walls were a warm earthen colour and it smelled of leaves and wood. The only disturbing thing he could find was a spidery stone hand that looked like it grew out of the wall.
"Do you have any idea what you are searching for?" she asked, ad Harry shook his head.
"Not really. I'd planned on just looking around and seeing if I found something interesting…"
She walked around the table to the left chest, which had silver strands all over it, much like as if someone had carefully draped a cobweb over it, and opened the elegantly decorated lid. "Something interesting hmm?" Her face shone red, as if something in the chest lit it up. "I got my hands on this not very long ago. While it is not very dark…" she looked up with a toothy grin. "I'm sure he'll love it. It will cost you more than just a large sum of gold though."
What she took from the chest made Harry's eyes widen.
"Perfect." he said, and the Twins looked at each other with confusion.
"I thought you said no jewelry?"
Harry turned around with a growing smile. "There is an exception to everything."
The Twins side-apparated him to just in front of the heavy iron gates that separated the grounds of Marvolo's manor from the village. It was strange to peer through the bars and see nothing but a vast area of yellowed grass, knowing that the moment he stepped though, the majestic manor would appear, as well as the wild garden that the house-elves ruled over. He understood their love for gardening. While many did not want to be free, gardening was the only thing they could express themselves in, much like Harry had done when he was at the Dursley's, and he hadn't even been given the choice of what to do with it. The pond that looked like it could belong in an untouched forest, old weeping willows around it, showed him the House-elves deeper instincts to be just as wild and untouchable, despite their common eagerness to serve.
The wards recognised them and with a tingling feeling, as if someone had stroked his spine with a nail –a feeling he knew quite well-, and with something akin to the sound of a deep sigh, the gates opened for them. It suddenly began to drizzle, the raindrops becoming more frequent with each passing second. They hurried towards the door, splashing through the quickly-forming mud and up the marble steps –something Harry had always thought of as looking out of place among the wood and natural grey stone the rest of the manor was made of.-
They burst through the oak doors and one of the Twins was quick to cast drying and warming charms over all of them before they slowly made their way towards the small dining room, where Ron was already seated, enjoying a meal. Harry's stomach grumbled and he quickly sat down, also summoning a plate and some food.
"Well well, who do we have here?" one of the two said with a shit-eating grin. Ron glared at his brother, threateningly waving his wand.
"More of that and I'll hex your balls off. I can use magic out of school now."
"Awww, can our baby brother-"
"Finally use all his-"
"minor, harmless spells out of school?"
"We're so scared."
"Fred, George, enough." A soft voice spoke, and they both whirled around, facing the Dark Lord who was leaning against the doorpost, his arms folded. They both bowed in respect, though the effect wasn't quite as large as with the other Death Eaters, as both parties knew that the Twins were needed more by the Dark Lord than they needed him.
Ron took in their appearance with grudgingly given admiration. Their jackets and boots were obviously real dragon hide, and the stylish shirts, jeans and jewelry almost screamed 'new and expensive'. Despite what their mum had said about their joke shop, she'd clearly been wrong. They'd always had had their own style, but they'd never looked this... flashy, as if they were bloody models.
"So." George finally said, swirling around to face Ron again and giving him a critical one-over. "I take it you haven't been waiting here, spending hours devoting to your favourite past-time activity, just to say hi to us?"
"I actually currently live here." Their brother said, annoyed. "And I've only just started dinner."
"Temporarily." The Dark Lord added in a threatening, displeased tone, and Ron shrank back a bit. "As long as you really have nowhere else to go."
The Twins both frowned and looked at each other before turning to their Lord.
"We completely understand that he's annoying to be around…" one started, ignoring Ron's protest.
"But he's still our brother…"
"And we do have a home."
"Plus, we need a shop assistant anyways."
"That way he can do something useful as well…"
"Unless you have other plans with him,"
"My Lord?"
"Other than that you are frying my brain again, what you said is sensible. I would appreciate it if he could move to your place. However, if I notice that your work is suffering from it, he shall have to either move back or someplace else. And also, I will give him missions even when he's staying with you, so don't count on having a shop assistant available at all times." The man moved towards the table and sat down on his usual chair, waving his hand to summon a glass of wine. His gaze languidly travelled from the one to the other while he sipped from the drink.
"Hey, don't I get a say in-"
"Be quiet when the big people talk Ronniekins." George interrupted him. "And I assure you, My Lord, that you do not have to worry about our inventions. We are currently ahead on schedule, and even when we were still living at home, we were able to work. I doubt Ron will be a problem. Who knows, perhaps he might even learn a thing or two."
Ron gaped at his brother. "Learn?" he finally stammered. "You mean… you actually want to teach me?" He was stunned. Fred and George just didn't share their plans, with anyone. He wondered what had made them change their minds. That is, if this wasn't just a hoax, but with the Dark Lord in the room, he didn't think they'd dare to pull a stunt on anyone.
"If you don't want to…"
He shook his head vigorously. "Are you crazy? I've wanted that for years. You just always told me off… or pranked me."
"Your own fault. You always screamed so deliciously,"
"when you found a spider in your bed again…"
Ron cringed minimally at their creepy smiles, wondering why he had ever thought they were Light. They had fooled everyone. He hoped he would be just as good at fooling them. He did not want to face his mother. Unluckily, he had to do so soon… Unless he could find a good excuse for not spending the holidays at home. Now he thought of it… perhaps his brothers would be willing to be that excuse. His mum currently thought that he was spending a few days at Dean's place, but he would be expected to show up for Christmas and New Year.
"So… I could move in with you?" he asked, still not quite able to believe it.
"If you promise not to be as slow as you currently are?"
"Then yes, we'd love to welcome you,"
"To our joke paradise!"
Rapida Laboro Malforta Mikrobo Gripo: Esperanto for 'quickly working weak influenza microbes.' I have no clue if the grammar is correct. Anyone here who knows Esperanto?
Ignis Vena: Latin for 'Fire Vein'.
Venenato Nebula: Latin for Poison Mist or Poisoned mist -again, sorry if the grammar is incorrect-
Read and Review!
xx GeMerope
