Voldemort paced as he held the letter in his hand. He was hesitant to send it. It seemed wrong to do so. Who was he to dictate Potter's life, even more? But, frankly, he couldn't deal with the constant flecks of teenage hormones that leaked into his connection.

He could hardly contain his rage during one of the meetings. He cast far too many crucios that day.

Using one of their nondescript barn owls, he sent the bird fluttering away into the vast sky.

Harry shovelled a piece of omelette into his mouth. He was just about to leave when the caws of birds came from overhead.

A letter from a small barn owl landed in front of him, not even staying for a treat before retreating. Harry thought for a moment, thinking it was another hate letter, but figured that he might as well read it.

'Please stop defiling my other halves during the day. It disturbs me. - LV'

Harry stifled a laugh. But then a blush consumed him.

He knew every time Harry's thoughts grew dirty or when he was making out with Tom and Riddle. Each second he cuddled them, Voldemort got a secondhand feeling from it. He grew even redder with embarrassment.

"Who is that from?" Hermione leaned over to look, but Harry hid the note.

"Um, er, it's from Amelia Bones. She was wondering how I was holding up." Harry quickly lied.

Hermione gave him a look that told him she didn't believe him, but she acquiesced. "If you say so."

Harry took out his wand and burned the note before anyone else could glance at it. Hermione raised an eyebrow, meanwhile Ron appeared angry. He just shrugged. It wasn't their business.

In fact, it would be better if they didn't know. They'd be safer that way.

Or would they be safer away from him?

No one else seemed to suffer more than those around him.

Harry shook his head. His friends knew that it was hazardous to be his friend, and he'd never begrudge them if they left him. Their health and safety were always at risk.

And Voldemort's no-harm order did not extend to his friends.

Harry shook his head again.

A smirk lit his face as he penned his response and ran up to the owlery. He hoped that Voldemort would either remember or catch his smart-assness.

Near nightfall, an owl tapped on Voldemort's window. He rushed to the bird, quickly untying the small scroll on his leg. He flattened it against the windowsill. And read one word.

'No.'

His scream echoed through the halls.

Harry was dragged through the countless halls of the Chamber of Secrets. Down, they twisted through the tunnels as if it were a second home for Tom and Riddle. Which, to be fair, it probably was.

"I can't believe we hadn't thought about it before!" Tom commented as they almost slammed into a tight curve.

"I mean, it makes sense!" Riddle agreed.

"Can either of you tell me what you're talking about?" Just when he thought he understood them, they always did something to prove the opposite.

"You'll see." They said it in unison.

A smile crossed his face at their excitement. It was normal to see Tom excited - he had finally allowed himself to let loose - but Riddle was a bit more reserved. But they were both practically bouncing off the walls.

More bones crunched underfoot than before. Moss and lichen stuck to the walls. Humidity was hot in the air. Harry gasped as he saw large, jutting crystals from all over. They had to dodge all the crystals on the floor, weaving around.

Finally, they entered a large room with huge ceilings. In the middle, sitting upon a mossen-boned hill, was a huge, bronze-scaled egg. Tom and Riddle pulled him up off the mound and looked at him expectantly.

"Touch it," They commanded.

"The egg?" Harry cocked his head.

"Yes."

Harry hesitated. Sure, the sparkles of gold on the edges of the scales and the way it glimmered in the light were alluring, but it seemed to be perfect. Like it was a trap. Shining thing in the middle of the room.

"Are you sure - "

"Touch it, touch it, touch it." Tom chanted.

Harry relented.

The egg was cold to the touch, like it was made from iced metal. But a certain power rushed into him. It was invigorating, sweet like chocolate but cold like mint.

A crack resounded in the room.

Harry abruptly jumped back. Tom giggled loudly, clapping his hands together. Riddle laughed and slapped him on the back.

"Knew it would be you." Riddle pulled him in for a hug.

"What is this?" He didn't want to bring up the fact that he already knew by virtue of reading the diary. It might make Tom upset again.

"Hungarian Horntail and Basilisk hybrid," Tom answered. "Hatches by the touch of the right person. When you told us about fighting one, we went back here to make sure it wasn't gone."

"When does it become a dragon-basilisk?"

Harry inspected the crack. It didn't run deep, and it only stretched the length of his hand, splitting into a Y shape at the end.

"Hm, looks like we'll have to research. I know that dragon eggs can take upwards of a month to hatch," Riddle hummed.

"I'll check every hour." Tom breathed, squatting to eye-level with the egg.

"Okay, got it." Harry nodded along with them.

Riddle drew him in for a tight hug. He leaned down and spoke into his ear. "May we borrow you until then? We're simply starving for you."

Harry's face went red.

"Uh, yeah." He agreed.

They both smirked.

Voldemort swept through a meeting. It was an inner-circle-only meeting, only a debriefing on raids that would happen in a few weeks. He sat down at the table, watching as the room filled with tension. He wanted to smile.

The power he held over these people was simply delicious.

"Severus, report on the Order." He announced after a minute of stillness.

"The Order has regained some of its strength. But with each Rita Skeeter article talking about Potter, they lose some support. They have pushed one creature bill. Otherwise, the Order has also been more focused on Potter. As they and I have noticed, Potter is missing the majority of the day with no one able to find him. They are growing concerned that he is talking to unsavoury sources."

Voldemort's jaw clenched. So he was spending most of his day with his horcruxes. It sickened him to know that. If they couldn't find him, they were most likely in the Room of Requirements or in the Chamber of Secrets.

They were constantly alone and uninterrupted with each other.

"Have they been following him for information on his source?" His horcruxes were to go undiscovered.

"Not yet. They are monitoring the wards to try to catch whoever it is when they're leaving the castle. If they can't, they plan on following him within the next month." Severus answered evenly.

Voldemort contemplated how to reply. He didn't want to tell Severus to watch Potter; that would lead to Severus figuring out the relationship with Potter and his horcruxes. Don't tell him, and Dumbledore might figure it out before him.

He shivered at the idea of what that man might do to all three of them.

"This matter, while important, does not require your full attention. However, inform me of any hint of information. Do not actively seek it on your own unless told otherwise." It seemed like a medium solution. "In addition, you will bring me a month's supply of dreamless sleep.

He had tried to go a night without, but he ended up with a dream in which he was enveloped in darkness and sitting on a lumpy surface, feeling so small.

"Yes, my Lord." Severus bowed his head.

The rest of the meeting went as was suspected. Retouching the different plans until they were at a needle-like precision. But Voldemort wove his own biases carefully.

Potter was often upset about the number of deaths left behind in their raids. Muggle or magical. Though Voldemort could hardly see the sense in that, as they were never related to him nor did he know those affected, he relented.

He carefully adjusted the plans for a lower death rate. It would never be zero, but it decreased from dozens to a single-digit figure. He explained it off as the Dark being quiet so that they could take the Ministry by surprise.

When he finally returned to his room, he sighed.

Keeping up with Potter's happiness was difficult. Even more when he was not there to help control it. At least his horcruxes were helping him, no matter how disgusting Voldemort found it.

He was hardly ever subjected to his terrible moods anymore. There was an entire week where he was angry and sad, which soured Voldemort's temper and plans during that time.

Frankly, he'd prefer the disgusting affection to the bad mood.

A sigh escaped Harry as he watched Ron and Hermione talk in the library. They had been released a week ago and they had been rather hesitant to be around him.

He would say it wasn't his fault, but it was.

His thoughts, as he was told, had grown darker. When he accidentally tried to murder Draco, even Ron thought he had gone a little too far. And he loathed Draco to the core.

Hermione was similarly concerned, more so when he talked about Rita Skeeter. Like she had a high horse to stand on, she imprisoned her in a jar. She looked at him, bewildered, when he said he wanted to tear her limb from limb.

When he started to voice his inner thoughts, they grew distant.

He couldn't really blame them. If they had started talking that way, even he would have been concerned.

But why did they blame him? They had wronged him in so many ways. He deserved some retribution for their transgressions.

Harry ground his teeth. They could think whatever they wanted. As long as they didn't act and didn't stop him, he was fine. The two had stuck by his side this long; surely they wouldn't leave because of a few dark comments?

Surely?

Harry turned around and stalked off. He needed someone else to talk to. Tom and Riddle were biased. Ron and Hermione were too. Someone else…

Luna!

Where would one find a small, blonde Ravenclaw at a time like this?

He checked the Room of Requirements; nothing. Only one last place.

Harry rushed to the Forbidden Forest. He watched carefully for anything else coming at him before he reached a familiar clearing. And, to his relief, he found Luna sitting down with a small threstral in her lap.

"Luna!" Harry exclaimed, causing every skull-head to turn his way. It was a little creepy.

"Hello, Harry." Luna smiled softly. She patted the ground next to her.

Harry slowly approached her. The threstral sniffed him, then laid its head back down.

"Luna, I have a question," Harry said.

He awed as another small threstral approached him. It sat next to him and blew cold air on him. Harry reached out a hesitant hand and petted it.

"I love questions," Luna answered airily.

She pulled an apple out of her satchel and split it in half with her bare hands. Harry, surprised, took the other half. He fed it to the threstral, careful not to get his fingers bitten.

"Is it wrong to hurt people who've wronged you?" He asked as the threstral finished the apple.

Luna thought for a moment. "Yes and no. It is not wrong to want to do it, but to actually do it is another question. Retribution is just a form of revenge, but so is justice. Punishment should be up to an unbiased source. Then again, all morality is relative, not objective."

Harry ruminated on those thoughts.

"Guess you're right."

He could live with what he's doing, is wrong. He wasn't a perfect person, and this could be another nail in his coffin. If he was fine everywhere else, he deserved a bit of moral decline in other places.

They hurt him. He hurts them.

They have every right to retaliate, and he does as well.

"If you say so," Luna replied with a smile. "Do you want to feed the big ones too?"

Luna shook her bag out. The entire bag emptied dozens of apples onto the floor. Harry smiled at her. No matter what, Luna's inconsistent, odd ways were always entertaining.

Hermione was following him.

He couldn't deny it anymore. Every time he snuck out to go to the Chamber of Secrets, she trailed behind him. It was only his knowledge of the secret passageways that made him able to sneak away, but even so, there were some close calls.

And then there was the incident.

Harry stormed off the moment he was finished with dinner. Unfortunately, Hermione rushed after him.

"Harry! Harry!" Hermione pushed away a first-year Hufflepuff to gain on him.

"What?" Harry yelled back, trying to use his two brain cells to remember where the secret passages were.

"Stop! Stop!" Hermione was gaining on him, using her 'the library is only a few more flights' legs to speed up to a sprint.

"Hermione!" Harry rounded a corner.

Hermione grasped the strap of his bag and pulled him back. A yelp escaped his mouth, and he crashed to the floor. His bag spilled, sending the bouquets of flowers crashing to the floor.

"Harry? What are these?" Hermione asked.

"Flowers." Harry answered, scrabbling to try to get them all in his bag before anyone else saw.

"Flowers, for whom? Harry, do you have a girlfriend?" Hermione looked around and helped him collect the delicate flowers.

Harry bit his cheek. "No."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Do you have a boyfriend?"

Harry couldn't help the blush that clawed at his face. He always went red when anyone mentioned them.

"Dear Merlin! You have a boyfriend! Who is he? What house is he in? How old is he? What does he look like?" Hermione pestered him, inadvertently breaking a few stems.

A sigh escaped his mouth. "I - well, he's… sweet. He was . . . He looked back and forth through the hall. "He was a Slytherin - "

"A Slytherin? Was? Oh, you're dating someone older, I see, I see. Why do you have so many flowers?" She latched his bag once they managed to push all of them in.

"Because he wants flowers." Not entirely true, but the ones he had used to apologise to Tom were completely dead, and the bedroom needed some sprucing up.

"That's where you've been running off to! Are you sneaking him in? Are you using protection?" Hermione kept up with him as he was trying to escape her.

"Hermione!" Harry's face was on fire. "We're not there yet!"

Sure, his thoughts had grown to be less pure, but he was happy to hold hands and kiss at the moment. He wasn't sure when they would reach that phase - they had only just started to make out - but he would be patient.

"Oh, okay, okay. Just make sure to have protection when that comes. You might both be men, but you have to think about STDs and just general clean-up. Condoms - "

Harry cast a silencing spell on her.

She pouted at him but shut her mouth.

"Look, Hermione, I just want to get back to them." Harry cast a sticking charm on her shoes and sped off.

"Them?" Hermione mouthed.

Harry's face was on fire as he ran through the halls. He had let it slip. He knew it was risky to let Draco know, but at least Draco wouldn't obsess over their relationship.

His legs carried him off to Chamber of Secrets. Myrtle had figured out that every time he came down, it was for the Chamber, so she stopped bothering him.

Harry slid down the pipes and landed, still running. When he entered the main chamber, he finally calmed down.

Tom and Riddle seemed to sense his distress.

"What is it, love?" Tom appeared by his side, lightly patting his back.

"Do we need to do anything, angel?" Asked Riddle, wrapping an arm around his waist.

"Uh - it's nothing. Well, it's . . .arry shuffled around in his bag.

He poured dozens of bouquets of flowers onto the floor.

"I brought flowers." He spoke, blushing. "And Hermione found out, and she asked me if I was dating anyone, and I blushed, and… she knows."

"Aw, does she know about your two boyfriends?" Tom cooed, lightly stroking his cheek.

"How cute." Riddle agreed.

Boyfriends.

Hearing them say that was like music to his ears. He had known for a long time, but hearing it out loud was different from saying it in his head. Different coming from his mouth.

"Y-yeah." Harry muttered, blushing harder as they both laced their hands.

"Do you want to help us put them in vases? You can transfigure them; remember what we taught you about permanent transfiguration?" Riddle kissed his neck.

"Uh, yeah."

The bedroom was laid out in decadent flowers. They decorated anything with a flat surface, from shelves to desks. Even the walls had some on display.

But the grand piece was the canopy. They made it out of the flowers, weaving them together into a hanging canopy over the bed. They crawled inside, placing more flowers on the inside.

All of them flopped on the bed, thoroughly exhausted. Harry huffed, a dumb smile on his face as the two curled into him.

"You're so good to us, angel." Riddle muttered into his neck.

"Such a bright light." Tom agreed, snuggling close to him.

Their hands gripped at him, clinging as if he were their only anchor to the claws of gravity.

The smells of potion brewing filled his nose. He huffed, inhaling the disgusting concoction. Slughorn was across from him, making potions for the hospital wing. It was fairly quiet, with the soft sounds of bubbles popping in the room.

That, and Harry's incessant questions.

"But how is fae blood acquired?" He asked once he added some to the cauldron.

"Well…" Professor Slughorn didn't meet his eyes. "We try to get it humanely, but sometimes they acquire it through rather… dubious means."

"Oh."

Maybe the reason Aquillian was so hesitant was not because Voldemort was Voldemort. Maybe it was because he was a wizard. Or it could be both. It was probably both.

"Yes, it's a sad state, the potion's world. It used to be better when I was young. But as the ties between nations thinned and became strained, we started to take the ingredients forcibly. It's now very hard to tell 'willingly given' from 'forcibly given'."

Was that another reason why the others seemed so surprised at him and Voldemort?

"That's too bad. What happened when you were young?" Harry asked as he cut another mint leaf.

Is that another reason why Voldemort wanted to partner with them? Because he would have willing access to their resources?

"We used to pay five galleons for every lire of blood. About, hm, ten galleons for every lock of hair, they are very protective of their hair. The subsections of fae, those with wings, tails, or horns, cost significantly more. Wings are worth twice as much as dragon hide. Horns and teeth were only a little less."

"And that's just for the fae. Not to mention werewolves, vampires, merfolk, sirens, veela, centaurs, and other rarer creatures. My boy, there was once a blue-blood ice-nymph's wings for sale. They fetched over a million galleons, and that's for when they were legally acquired."

Professor Slughorn sighed as he reminisced. "You know, I wish for those days back. Back when we weren't at war with each other. Back when we could see them freely roaming Diagon. I wish you could have seen it, but that was far before your time."

Harry took a few seconds to digest the information.

"Is there a way to get it back? Safely, I mean?" Harry needed to press him for more information.

Professor Slughorn thought for a moment. "Well, Wizengamont has been passing more laws lately that protect creatures. That has loosened some tensions. But, my boy, you must know that even with the laws passed, it's the people that need to regain their trust. That trust that has been lost. I only wish it wasn't the Regress that were passing these."

Why did Aquillian seem so relaxed around him?

Harry felt the urge to defend the Regress. "Why not the Regress?"

"Well… the Regress has been known to contain a lot of suspected Death Eaters. Though I know it was a net good, I wish it was a party with a less unsavoury background. I fear what will happen when they take over. Will they continue to pass more rights? Or was it just a ruse?" Slughorn shook his head sadly.

"And what if they did continue?"

Professor Slughorn tilted his head. "I guess, I guess that means that change is possible, even for the most deplorable people."

Change is possible.

Harry couldn't help but agree.

He then perked up, if not sadly. "You know, you remind me of a bright student I used to teach in the 40s."

"Who?"

"Tom Riddle. He was such a bright student who constantly asked smart questions. But you're quite different. He was a Slytherin; you are a Gryffindor. And he… it wasn't his fault, but he was quite cold, no matter how much he tried not to be. You are warm, and I don't think you could hide it." Slughorn reached across and patted his shoulder. "I only wish you don't fall down his dark path."

Harry smiled. He couldn't wait to tell Tom and Riddle what Professor Slughorn had said. And for that matter, Voldemort as well.

"Thank you, Professor." Harry concealed a laugh.

"Ah, while I'm at it, I plan on starting up an old club again. It was originally called Professional Potioneers, but my students renamed it to Slug Club. It's a potions club with some social activities. Do you wish to be the first member of this newly restarted club? I will add new students as they return to class." Professor Slughorn extended his hand.

Harry grinned widely and shook his hand. "Of course, Professor."

Penning a letter, Harry jumped in surprise as Tom sat on his desk.

"What are you doing?" Tom asked him.

"Asking Amelia to sign my Hogsmeade permission slip. We go on December 1st, but I want to get ahead on it. It's almost October, and we have until November to submit it." Harry replied, scribbling down the last of his requests. "I just hope she hasn't heard about me attacking Draco."

"Aw, and you didn't even think to ask us first?" Riddle replied, his breath hot on his neck. Harry jumped again, straight into Riddle's arms.

"I . . .asn't sure if you were interested. Plus, there are the technicalities involved in bringing you…"

Harry dreamed of them having a date at Hogsmeade. Something cute, with hot butterbeer and snow. Shopping around in the district without a care in the world. Collapsing into the snow and making angels.

"Love, we'll figure it out." Tom grasped his hand and kissed it. "We always do."

"Sorry," Harry ducked his head. "I wasn't thinking."

Riddle chuckled. "You don't have to.".

Harry hummed. "I have something else to tell you."

"What?" Tom and Riddle asked in unison.

"Professor Slughorn said I reminded him of a student. A bright student. A bright Slytherin student. A Slytherin student from the 1940s." Harry smiled at them.

Tom laughed, holding his stomach. "So he said you remind him of us?" Riddle similarly snickered.

"Yeah. He hoped I didn't go on such a 'dark path'. Oh! And he also invited me to the Slug Club." Harry reached up and pecked Riddle on his jawline. Riddle shivered.

"Slug Club? That was honestly really fun. I enjoyed it a lot." Tom spoke, receiving his kiss as well.

"I hope it's fun. I hope no one, like, I don't know, poisons me or something." Harry shrugged.

Riddle's grip on him tightened. "We can't have that. Let's teach you how to tell the difference between a safe drink and an altered one."

Tom nodded.

They whisked him away to one of the potion's labs. There, using the Liquid Death book, they brewed a variety of potions and safe potions. Harry was fascinated with all the ways that poisons could be made. They hardly had any similar ingredients and mostly were innocuous until two ingredients were added.

In the end, he was able to identify three out of the five poisons in the drinks. They congratulated him for his first-try success with plenty of kisses and a later make-out session to top it off.

Voldemort: plz no defiling
Harry: no
_

Tom: Touch it
Riddle: Touch it
Harry: I touch it?
CRACK
Tom and Riddle: Let's celebrate by making out
_

Voldemort: They are ALONE and UNINTERRUPTED with each other. VILE!
Voldemort: At least it is better than a bad mood.
_

Harry: (is growing darker, sadistic, and disappears every day)
Ron and Hermione: (is distant)
Harry: (shocked Pikachu face)
_

Luna: (wise advise)
Harry: okay but what if I'm okay with being wrong?
_

Hermione: OMG you have boyfriends? Do you have condoms?
Harry, blushing: We literally just started to make out hold your horses!

Tom and Riddle: Boyfriends.
Harry: (feet kicking, giggling, blushing)
_

Professor Slughorn: So yeah, fae get murdered because they are potion ingredients.
Harry: oh wow
Professor Slughorn: You know who you remind me of? This kid you are nothing like. Such a nice boy. Shame he became a Dark Lord.
_

Harry: (Dreaming about a perfect date-night)
Tom and Riddle: We'll do it. No matter what.