.
.
Somehow, it was already close to Easter.
The staff was busy preparing for the arrival of Harry's parents, Lucius ordering them around like a general. But of course, there was more to it than that.
As Tom had informed him that morning, the arrival of Easter meant there'd be a ball held among the nobility. And this year, Tom was nominated- by Father Albus, of all people-to host it this year.
This also meant that Tom would need someone to escort. And since his skills with women were…lacking, at best, he was regrettably single.
Or, he was until he told Harry exactly what his role would be in the evening's festivities.
And so, Harry was sent out to visit Madame Malkins to get a dress.
The shop was small and crowded, but at the same time very colorful and lively.
There were many racks and rolls of varying fabrics, designs, and colors, and Harry couldn't help the awed sound coming from his mouth.
"Oh? Oh, yes- you must be Hadrian!"
A woman's voice sounded close to him, and a firm hand pulled him into what looked like a back room.
"I'd recognize those eyes anywhere, you see! My, my, Riddle mentioned that you had the most exquisite eyes, and I daresay he is NEVER wrong! No, do sit tight and I'll fit you into your dress quickly!"
She left him on a stool and returned after what felt like an eternity with a bundle of black fabric in her arms. She lay it out on a table, allowing Harry to look at it in its entirety.
It was a black satin dress that flared out at the hips. The hem ended at his knees, but a layer under that ended at midcalf, and under that, a layer ended at his ankles. The layers were edged with white lace and green bows. A green bow wrapped around his torso and tied at his chest, pinned in place with a silver rose. The sleeves puffed around his shoulders and were then tied off with green bows, before they flowed out past his fingertips.
"There you are, dear. And beneath this, you'll be wearing a petticoat, and the top here-" she lifted it to show him the back of the dress, where it laced up "-is a corset. I'll help you on the day of the ball, so you'll be in good hands, Mister Potter."
She gingerly bundled up the dress and set it in his arms. Harry stood up and gave her a grateful smile. Heaven knows he'd never be able to choose a dress himself, much less dress up in one.
Madame Malkins ushered him to the door, giving off a cheery aura as she did so.
"Farewell! I hope to see you again!" she called as Harry stumbled out of her shop.
The Easter ball would certainly be interesting….
XXxxXX
Harry escorted his parents to the Riddle manor early the next day, before it was even time for him to wake his master. The walk was long, but silent. Harry didn't mention his falling out with Ron- since his parents and the Weasleys were friends- and he didn't mention that he'd become the personal attendant to both Riddle brothers rather than just Tom. And that was more so he wouldn't accidentally upset his parents.
They arrived at the manor with minutes to spare, so Harry left his parents in their room with a hasty goodbye and instructions to meet Lucius before he went to fetch Tom's morning tea, thanking God that Dobberforth the chef- or Dobby, as he preferred- had already brewed it for him.
By the time he entered Tom's bedroom, it was 7:05.
"My Lord. It is time to wake up."
He spread open the curtains slowly so the sudden light wouldn't bother Tom too much, and all the while he was aware of the man's gaze on him. A small part of him took pride in that, but he quenched it down as he poured a cup of tea- Lavender, this time- and set it on Tom's bedside table.
"Breakfast today will consist of buttered scones, deviled eggs, and your choice of jam or marmalade, and to drink, black tea." Harry recited dutifully as Tom crawled out of bed, his long legs hanging over the sides.
"Hm." Indifferent in the mornings, as always.
"…Dress me."
The order was simple, and Harry rushed to obey. Within minutes, he was tying a neat and tidy black bowtie around the neck of Tom's white collared shirt. It matched perfectly with the green and black pinstriped suit adorning his figure.
As the boy stepped back to exit, Tom took a hold of his wrist, his grip tight and only mildly painful.
"I trust you understand your role for the day, Harry?"
He nodded, and Tom continued, as if he hadn't noticed.
"As my personal date, you are to be at my side for most of the ball. You may dance with whomever asks- it is dreadfully impolite to refuse a dance, after all- but you will save the last dance for me. And I forbid you to have contact with Voldemort."
Harry withheld a surprised gasp. He hadn't quite been expecting such strict rules- though in hindsight, he supposed he should've.
"Understood, My Lord."
"Very well. Now, leave me be. I have work to do, and I will call should I require your presence. I trust you will inform your…parents of tonight's arrangements. Dismissed."
Harry exited the room with a mixture of dread and elation. Tom had come across as possessive, just as he had days before, and while that thrilled some small part of him, another part of him was terrified.
But he had no time to ponder it further as a bell rang in his ears, high and somewhat shaky. It seemed Voldemort needed him. Not that he was surprised.
Biting back a sigh, Harry quickly made his way upstairs to the room of his other master, not at all surprised to see the older man already dressed. What did surprise him was the walking stick he held in his hands. He never used it unless he was going out, and that in itself was a rare occurrence.
"My Lord?"
"I have business to attend to, Harry, and you're coming with me- that's an order." He made it sound as if Harry would refuse, and the boy almost laughed. Instead, he settled on a small smile, aware that it would go unseen.
"Of course, My Lord."
XXxxXX
The streets were more crowded than they had been earlier that day, but Voldemort navigated through the throng with ease, and Harry tried hard to keep up with him. It was a feat only barely managed, as Harry was carrying various boxes in his arms, and couldn't afford to drop even one should someone bump into him.
Harry didn't see exactly what Voldemort bought, but that was fine. He knew better than to pry, even more so than to judge.
But of course, it was inevitable that something would happen.
A large, scruffy man accidentally bumped into him. The boxes were sent flying, and Voldemort, unaware amidst the usual marketplace noises, didn't even notice.
Someone grabbed Harry's arm, and he felt a hand clamp itself around his mouth. He felt himself getting dragged away before his brain could properly process what was happening. Once it did, however, he fought as hard as he could. He clawed at his assailant's arms and kicked at his shins, ignoring how doing so forced his hips to turn awkwardly. It wasn't until he bit his captor's hand that he was finally released.
And then, without looking back, Harry ran. Voldemort couldn't be too far, surely.
He ducked into the crowd, losing himself in the mass of people. The boxes that he'd been holding earlier were probably destroyed by now, along with their contents.
Thinking of how upset Voldemort would be resulted in a guilty pang in his chest. But since he hadn't been able to look at exactly his master was buying, there was nothing he could do.
XXxxXX
Slap!
"You LOST them!?"
His cheek stung terribly, and he could already feel a bruise developing. But Harry kept silent. He knew better than to speak out of turn, especially when his master was already upset.
He bowed onto one knee and Voldemort gave him a piercing, sightless glare before turning around.
"…Come, Harry. We're going home."
His voice was deathly calm, boding no room for argument.
Harry stood up and trailed behind Voldemort as he stalked out of the dingy alleyway he'd found him in, wondering how he'd conceal the blossoming bruise on his cheek as the rhythmic tapping of his master's wooden cane kept the silence at bay.
The walk home was tense, and Harry just knew that if Tom found out about Voldemort hitting him, then things would get worse. But he couldn't hide it- not without help.
Luckily, Madame Malkins brought her makeup bag with her, and after she'd gotten Harry dressed up for the ball, she'd been sure to use a good amount of concealer to help him hide the bruise. She didn't ask about it, and for that, Harry was thankful.
"Now, before I send you off, do you remember how you'll be expected to behave tonight?"
"Yes, Madame."
"Very well. Now, off you get."
And with that, Harry left and entered the ballroom.