Summary: When the road you're on is already in the verge of crumbling, you could either choose to foolishly continue onward, or turn back and change paths. Harry decided on the latter. MoD!Harry

Main Pairing: HP/LV (Marcaunon/Voldemort – not Chaos)

Side Pairing(s): Pending

Warning: AU, Time-Travel, Universe Hopping, New Identity, Slash (this means Boy/Boy), MasterOfDeath!Harry, Killings/Torture, Mentions of rapes/abuse, Incestuous relationships

Disclaimer: If I were the author of Harry Potter, Dumbies would have chocked on a Lemon Drop and drop dead, not AK-ed. So no, I do not own Harry Potter.

"English"

"Parseltongue"

Chapter 20: Sneak peak on Voldie!

A scream of rage was heard all throughout the entire manor, making a blonde, pompous wizard falter in his tracks, but continued nonetheless until he arrived just in front of a pair of magnificent double doors. The blonde's aristocratic features twisted into one of fear for only a split second before he managed to reign in his emotions. His hesitance of making his presence known to his Master was justified, seeing that the scream he had just heard had came from said Master, who, he might add, was a master in controlling his emotions. Whatever set off his Lord was definitely something grand.

Just as he finally gathered all of his courage to knock, the double doors opened, revealing a pale man with furious crimson eyes sitting behind his desk. The blonde unconsciously took a step back at his Master's malicious expression.

"Abraxas." The Adonis in front of the blonde – Abraxas – hissed, his voice sharp and cold.

"My Lord." He bowed down to his waist. Malfoy pride be damned. He would rather discard it to live another day. He still has an heir to teach, and a son to love.

"Ease yourself and enter."

He did just that, standing at attention with his hands firmly behind of him, in front of his Master's mahogany desk.

They were both silent, with him avoiding his Master's eyes due to respect – and perhaps afraid to see the murderous expression aimed at him.

"Well?" Tom Riddle, or better known as Lord Voldemort to his followers, demanded. "Explain your presence and make it quick. I tire of waiting. Be very careful of what you may report though… I confess myself – vexed." Voldemort ended with an unspoken promise of pain.

"I apologize for coming here unannounced, my Lord, but I bear good news – one is that the latest bill has been approved of."

Voldemort's beautiful eyes (that he had always secretly compared to rubies) turned to him, and he almost melted at the attention he was given. It was no secret to his fellow Inner Circle members about his infatuation with their Lord.

"Excellent. You've done well, Abraxas. Were there any complications?" Abraxas replied in negative, which made His Lord's expression of fury morphed into one of elation. "Lord Voldemort rewards those who accomplish their given tasks. What is your desire, Abraxas?"

"Thank you, my Lord. You are far too generous." He bowed with his right arm across his chest, before he straightened his spine. "Your contentment is my only desire, my Lord, however if I may… What ails you so, my Lord, my Master?"

Voldemort made no show of what he was currently feeling, his face eerily similar to that of a beautiful sculpture, and Abraxas instantly regretted his choice of reward – he felt that he had overstepped his bounds. Why had he brought up the reason for his Master's rage!? Oh self-preservation, where have you fled to? Why was his curiosity much higher than his desire?

"Very well." That made Abraxas almost release a sigh of relief. Almost. Malfoys do not sigh. "Seeing that you have yet to fail me so, I shall settle your curiosity. One of my followers have decided to take a vacation with only a note, not even a letter, as a way to inform me of his abrupt departure."

He could feel sweat trailing down his back at the sheer fury his Lord was emitting. Whoever the person was, he was in a whole level of trouble. One does not simply leave in that way without obtaining their Lord's ire. He was hesitant in calling for his Master's attention, one part of him not wanting his Master's wrath to be directed back at him, whilst the other part wanted those beautiful crimson orbs to be focused solely upon him. Preferably whilst he was writhing in pleasure beneath his Lor–

Without so much of a warning, the Lord of Slytherin's Magic lashed out, making a pleasurable shiver run down his spin. What magnificent power.

"You speak of having more than one good news, Abraxas?"

"Yes, my Lord – I apologize for the delay I have caused. I have stumbled across a few sealed memories from my son. I was curious, and I admit, furious at who had dared enter my son's mind." He could see that his Lord was impatient, and was quick to get to the point. "With my level of skill, I was able to remove the seal, however I came upon a sharp realization afterwards. My memories as well have been tempered with, and it was from the very same person that has sealed some of my son's memories."

"I do not see the good news in this, Abraxas." Voldemort stood, easily towering over him, the anger on his Lord's face for all to see. "The only thing I see is that this man could have easily taken any information in your and your son's mind. Information regarding me, and everything that I have tasked upon my followers – valuable information, Abraxas Malfoy."

He bowed his head, knowing that this was a risk he was taking. But the reward… Yes, he knew that the reward would tower over the risk. "I have taken upon myself to see a trusted mind healer, my Lord. She has deemed my memories only been tampered with – not an ounce of information has been forcefully taken from my head."

His Lord stared silently for a minute, before reseating himself and gestured for Abraxas to continue. Clearly the beauty was displeased, but at least Abraxas has taken safety measures before reporting.

"The man who has tempered with our minds is" He hesitated slightly before he continued. "Marcaunon Gaunt, my Lord."

Voldemort immediately sat up straight, crimson eyes bright as he leaned forward almost eagerly. "Tell me, dear Abraxas, what kind of seal and its effects?"

"The opposite of Forget-Me-Not seal, my Lord. The term is that once my son leaves Hogwarts' ground, he will forget anything in relation to Marcaunon and Marchosias Gaunt. I found this suspicious, and after an investigation, found out some interesting things. Professor Gaunt placed a spell on all the students and some teachers, to forget about him and his son upon leaving Hogwarts."

"Interessting… Sso he hid the ssame way I did. But why, iss the question?" His Master hissed lowly to himself, before he continued in a louder voice. "And you? What of the memories he tempered with?"

"It was basically the same, my Lord." He frowned lightly at the reminder. "Once he has left my sight, I would conveniently forget about his existence until someone has mentioned him, or that he makes an appearance."

"Left your sight?" He was oblivious to the dangerous, borderline jealousy, tone of his Lord. "Do you see him often?"

"My wife is a colleague of his, my Lord. She sometimes invites him over for dinner in our manor."

"I will assume that she had the same seal as the both of you."

"Indeed she did, my Lord."

The study was silent for a few moments. Voldemort's smirk almost melted Abraxas's insides. The man was that good looking. "I am sure you are able to have the both of us over for dinner on the same night, isn't that right, Abraxas?"

"Of course, my Lord."

"What other thingss did you find out about the two Gauntss, Abraxass?"

The way his Master had drawn out the S's made Abraxas's lower region stir with want. He was quick to push the images out of his mind, not wanting his Lord to see – Voldemort was a master legilimens, and it was considered disrespect to think of his Lord in that way. Not that he cared when in the confines of his home.

"Marcaunon Gaunt, Pureblooded orphan, and is 23 this year. He is a Potions' Master working at Hogwarts." He took out a photo from within his robes and placed it gently atop his Master's desk. "He is well liked by the students, disregarding which House they came from – a very popular Professor, and is Slytherin's Head of House. He used to be in Hufflepuff, and has always been the top student of his year. He received ten Outstandings for both OWL and NEWTs, and is considered the youngest Potions' Master in all of history. It is said that his skills could be on par with the famous Ignatius Rose."

Frankly, it was amazing for a person to even achieve five Outstandings. To actually have gotten ten was simply incredible – and he only recalled two other graduates that had achieve more or less the same result. He was about to speak of Rose's achievements, however the moment he spoke of the name Ignatius Rose, his Lord grew irritated, so he was quick to continue his report.

"Marcaunon Gaunt is close with Pomona Sprout and Albus Dumbledore – my informant has even said that Dumbledore actually favored him more than even McGonagall. There are even rumors that he would soon be the Deputy Headmaster of Hogwarts. He has a son named Marchosias and is six, going seven years old."

He was disgusted at the fact that this Professor had had impregnate a lady at the tender age of sixteen. Magicals have spells to prevent pregnancy, and if they were too lazy to do some standard anti-pregnancy charms, they should not have had intercourse at all. A disgrace to Purebloods he would be if not for his amazing academic results and career. However, Abraxas was unable to deny the attraction he felt due to how beautiful the man was. The man that looked eerily identical to his Lord, only more feminine. They could be brothers, if he did not know that both his Lord and Marcaunon Gaunt were orphans.

"Do you have a photo of the boy – Marchosias, as well?"

He dutifully placed a photo of said boy being carried by his father, the two smiling (well, Marcaunon was, Marchosias only had a small tilt of his lips) at the camera, next to the previous photo. [1]

"Do you have any more information regarding them, Abraxas?"

"No, my Lord."

"I am very much pleased with this news you brought, Abraxas. Tell me – what is your wish? I will reward you handsomely."

"If I may, my lord…"

"Speak your mind."

He shifted, a little nervous.

"I would like the honors of warming your bed, my Lord."

The room fell into silence, and he suddenly regretted asking. His self-preservation really had left him. Hopefully, not for good.

"Is that all?" He could only nod, his eyes looking anywhere but Voldemort. "Very well. Step closer, Abraxas."

His head snapped up and his breath was caught in his throat. His ex-classmate, his crush, his Lord, had begun to disrobe. Abraxas was quick to move, and would deny all if they said he was practically running.

The wards around the study glowed for a brief moment, and just as they dimmed down, the voices from within stayed within.

A/N: Well… I do hope you enjoyed this chapter. On another note, skip the Specials if it's not your cup of tea. Those are extras, not quite important just yet.

[1] yepmissis drew a fanart for me, and I pictured that the photo Abraxas presented to Voldy looked just like that. The link is in my profile for those who are lazy. For those who aren't; art/ maracaun-and-little-chaos-532654433

I thank all those that reviewed, and humbly hope to see more in the future.

Argh, I'm sorry that this chapter is so short. I was actually going to post the crossover chapter, but I accidently overwrote it with another chapter! It was so frustrating, and I was on a deadline of 'one week' after someone had questioned when I would be updating. I don't want to break my word, especially when I promised them on Facebook that I would update at Sunday (which is today, my GMT). This is the best I could do at the moment, and hopefully, did not disappoint many of you too much. Once again, I'm sooooooooooo sorry!

Story recommendation for today: Framed & Fractured by Antediluvian Poet. I just recently stumbled across this fic, and was pleasantly surprised by it. The plot is a unique one, whereas Harry is trapped inside a Magical painting with no way out. The only person he has as company is a young Tom Riddle, still attending Hogwarts. It's different, since I've never read about a fic where Harry was the one stuck inside a painting. It was always the opposite, where Tom or Voldemort was stuck, and relied on Harry heavily to get them out. Time-travel. Not sure if this is Slash or even TMR/HP, but, meh.

Rainbows and Sulking,
GenderlessPerson