(TW: Sexual scene in this chapter.)

Smoke & Trouble, Sam Tinnesz + Society of Villains

I'm the leader of the black sheep
Sometimes I think that the devil is inside me
Dirty razor, I'm the bad seed
I love to howl at the moon when it's rising

I was born this way
Nothing's gonna change that
Don't care what they say
Gonna light that match
When the chaos starts
You know I live for that

Got TNT in my bones
Every breath on the edge of going psycho
They say that I'm a fallen angel
They might be right cause I feel holy when I when I raise hell

Smoke and trouble
I'm crazy on another level

No rest for the wicked
My hearts racing
Guess I'm built different
Love me hate me

The Dark Lord was one of the first to stand up from the feast, Nagini still on his shoulders. While Harry watched from the corner of his eye, the Dark Lord bid entry to his mind. Tom let him in, his back suddenly ramrod straight as he turned to look at Voldemort.

'With me,' he commanded, and Harry stood up so fast he smashed his thighs into the tabletop.

"Er, he wants me to go with him," he mumbled at Ginny, tearing his gaze away from the Dark Lord as he exited Harry's head. "I'll see you later."

"What? How do you know?" Ginny asked after him, and he decided that conversation was for possibly never.

He could feel Eris's eyes burning holes in the back of his head, sharper than the rest, as he tried to catch up to Voldemort, who was already at the doors. The hall was alight with murmurs as he exited, his neck and ears ablaze. Ten Death Eaters followed. He had to jog to reach him, then kept pace a few steps behind, his heart palpitating.

He didn't find it that surprising to stop outside the headmaster's office. The Dark Lord spoke the password to the eagle—already in Parseltongue—and ascended the stairs ahead of him. Their guard took its place outside the staircase.

The office was heavily warded but otherwise unchanged.

He was shocked to find a second chair at the desk's short side.

The Dark Lord knelt to let Nagini off his shoulders. He removed his mask, hood, and gloves as he sat down, a stack of paperwork on the desk before him.

The Maledictus coiled on the floor next to the chair he assumed was his but didn't dare take.

"Sit," he gestured at the seat and already looked annoyed with him.

He sat, put his hands on the desk, and swallowed his heart back into his chest. Voldemort put two fingers on the back of his hand and waited, staring at the office door as though it had done him wrong, until the warmth flooded Harry, and his Horcrux fell silent in the Dark Lord's head. Then Voldemort was writing. Harry tucked his face into his arm, fighting a possibly goofy grin as a comfortable bliss radiated from his arm into his head and chest.

He watched the quill move, unable to see the words from his angle, determined to stay awake and feel it. He wasn't sure how long he watched the feather scribbling, struggling to keep his eyes open as they moved between the ring on the Dark Lord's thumb and the quill, feeling like he'd rolled his face in a sandpit when the writing suddenly stopped. He slowly looked up, careful not to draw attention to himself, to find Voldemort staring through the paper. His eyes were hooded and unfocused; his lips parted, his pulse visibly thundering in his neck as he swallowed. Harry's throat was tight as he watched, all the heat in his body moving low.

Voldemort snapped out of his daze and noticed him. "What are you looking at?"

"Sorry. You're beautiful. Ah, fuck, sorry, oh shit, didn't mean to swear; that's the—don't hurt me that's worse—when you touch me, it makes me-"

His eyes were narrowed, and Harry hadn't looked away. "Shut up, what is wrong with you."

"Okay, yeah, that's fair. I don't actually know." He hid his face, not capable of embarrassment but confident he soon would be.

'…Excellent,' Tom thought, hazy in his head.

'I mean, look at him, though.'

He tried to sneak another glance to find the Dark Lord glaring at him. He put his eyes back on the desk.

'Stop it,' Tom thought. 'Go to sleep.'

He did as he was told.

The Dark Lord woke him by shoving his head and standing up sharply from his chair, scraping on the wood.

"Go," he seemed angry, though Harry had been sleeping.

Nagini was still coiled on the floor but raised her head at the commotion.

Though he was confused, he didn't need to be told again. He wobbled from his seat and fled the room, his cheeks flaming as he remembered what he'd said, fully conscious.

'You could have stopped me?' He thought as he descended the stairs and recollected his guard.

'You say things as you think them. I have no warning. You need to work on thinking.'

Harry frowned the rest of the walk to his room, the halls empty and dark, sometime in the dead of night. He summoned his doors, and the Death Eaters stood guard outside it, wands perpetually drawn.

As soon as the room was closed, he stripped his robe off, then his shirt, then the rest of it, until he was in nothing but his boxers, and Tom smirked at him. Harry flopped into his bed, rolled onto his back, and took the grin off his face when he summoned the darkness from his right hand. He traced it over his chest and sucked in a breath, resolutely staring at the enchanted ceiling.

Tom responded, snaking the curse from his left arm and tracing it up his neck. Harry leaned into it, gasping. He moved his hand lower, and the muscles in his abdomen jumped at the pain, stirring the pressure until he was moaning and prematurely bucking his hips. Tom brought his fingers to his lips, where the curse seeped into his mouth until he whimpered. He tucked his hand into his boxers, and Tom yanked them entirely off.

Two of his fingers were in his mouth then, the darkness pouring down his throat, a new sensation that sent him blind with want. He gripped his cock, and then Tom was the one bucking his hips slowly as the curse snaked down his thighs. His fingers muffled his noises deeper as he sucked them. He noticed the harder he sucked; the faster Tom would thrust. His mouth was full of saliva as the pain lit him on fire from the inside out, eyes rolling closed. He gripped his cock tighter, flicked his tongue along his fingers, begging them deeper. Tom obliged until he was gagging and moaning almost continuously. His hips lost rhythm as the sensations nearly overwhelmed him.

Tom summoned the curse from every inch of his skin, and he was undone. He bit his fingers and arched his back as the pressure broke, blind both with the pleasure and the curse. He made a guttural noise that might have been a scream if it weren't muffled, and he was almost shocked the sound had come from him.

The curse seeped into his skin and vanished; he lay star-fished on the bed and stared at the enchanted sky, waves of aftershock still twitching his muscles as he swallowed heavily.

"…Goodnight, Harry," Tom said in Parseltongue, sending more chills through him.

He was woken by the Dark Lord trying to enter his head and the sun blaring through the ceiling.

Tom let him in before Harry had time to register what was going on.

'Transfiguration courtyard,' was all he said before he was gone again.

'What? Why? What does he want?' Harry wondered as Tom got them out of bed.

'I know as much as you do.'

His limbs still tingled from having the Dark Lord touch him, making him simultaneously uncomfortable and relaxed.

He got dressed at record speed and tripped on his pants, making Tom frown but thankfully not comment.

His guards, two on either side of him, followed him through the halls as he descended the dozens of staircases leading to the transfiguration courtyard.

When they reached the yard, Harry took longer to register the scene than Tom did, already running at Eris' back. The necromancer was standing beside the Dark Lord, surrounded by Death Eaters.

As Tom sprinted across the courtyard, footfalls nearly silent, Harry had a few seconds to consider the ramifications of what he was about to do. He knew that Voldemort could feel his approach because Harry could feel him. He decided as he got closer that punishment be damned, he was going to hit Eris. He didn't have the strength to withhold the rage that had built in him at the necromancer.

His anger was worsened by his most recent kidnapping and the fact that it had indirectly led to the Dark Lord moving into the castle. A target was all he felt like he wanted.

As he shoved through the Death Eaters surrounding the pair, Voldemort stepped aside in the same instant that Harry slammed into Eris' back.

They both hit the grass hard. Tom forced Eris to roll onto his back—winded and shocked—so Harry could sucker punch him in the nose. In return, Eris grabbed his shirt with one hand, gasping. He was stronger than his lanky frame suggested, and once he'd shaken off the hit, they scrambled for control.

Harry's teeth clacked together with an uppercut, not enough to knock him out because Eris couldn't swing from the ground, but enough to rattle him. He bit a small chunk out of his tongue, filling his mouth with blood and numb pain. Eris took advantage and threw him off with a wandless Bombarda, sending him into solid and soundproof wards that had been summoned around them.

Tom got them standing faster than Harry could recover his breath.

The necromancer was on his feet and took another swing. Tom blocked it, summoning the curse from both arms and crossing them over his face. Eris screamed and stumbled back when he made contact with the darkness, gripping his arm and panting.

"You're just like him. The same." Eris wiped at the blood on his face, successfully smearing it.

Harry spat a mouthful of his own on the ground so he could talk. "You don't know me."

"Oh, I do. I know you. Power-hungry, violent, careless. What is Ginny to you? A tool? Are you grooming her for him?"

Harry guffawed, eyes bulging. "The things I've done to try and keep her from him. The things I've said to her to try and get her to leave, to understand that she's not safe." He still held the curse on his arms.

The necromancer's eyes darted from his face to his hands. He seemed to hesitate, but then it vanished as he readied his stance.

"Do you know what she and I have been through together? You think I want her here? With him? What makes you believe any of us had a choice? Did you imagine me just one day thinking, 'Oh, might join the Dark Lord and throw everything away for a laugh?'" He gestured vaguely behind himself, where he felt Voldemort standing.

"She won't back down. If you think you'll bring yourself closer to her by seething at me, you've got another thing coming. You can believe what you want about me; I don't care what you think. She won't go, and she'll choose me."

Eris readjusted again, confusion plain on his face before it was gone.

"Or I can fucking kill you right now," Tom said. The darkness billowed from his hands, shooting goosebumps up and down his spine as it reached for the necromancer.

Eris finally appeared to realise that he was trapped in solid wards.

'Why would Voldemort help us do this? I didn't even know he knew. Did Cassiopeia tell him?' Harry wondered, eyes torn between the wards and his target. He spat another mouthful of blood on the ground.

'He saw it in our mind.'

'Right. When he's in my head. Like he is all the time lately.'

Tom didn't respond, far more interested in Eris, pressed hard against the glass-like magic.

He could hear someone yelling his name outside the wards and immediately knew it was Ginny. In the transfiguration courtyard, witnessing him reach the curse for Eris under the apparent guidance of the Dark Lord and a mob of Death Eaters. It was enough to take the wind out of them, the darkness seeping back into his skin as his face reddened.

"You don't know the half of it," Harry said as he turned away to face Voldemort, signalling to drop the wards.

When he did, both he and Eris attempted a quick escape. The necromancer was stopped by a large group of the Dark Lord's followers, and Harry was stopped by the Dark Lord himself, a command in his head as Tom let him in.

Harry had turned away from Ginny—unable to look at her face, certain she was crying—and Avalon, who had exited the transfiguration classroom with Cedrum-who appeared entirely nonplussed at seeing Eris covered in blood and surrounded at wandpoint.

Luna was also in the courtyard, standing bizarrely close to the Dark Lord, chewing a liquorice wand. She waved at Harry, and he blinked at her in return, spitting more blood on the grass.

'With me,' Voldemort commanded as he abruptly turned on his heel and moved toward the transfiguration classroom, which Harry supposed was now the necromancy classroom.

Cedrum sighed, shook his head, and followed Voldemort when Harry did. Eris was left in the courtyard, pacing in the centre of a guard.

Widrich loaded his pipe once at his desk, looking mildly apprehensive but mostly irritated.

When the door was shut, the Dark Lord startled Harry by grabbing his jaw with one gloved hand, pointing his wand at his mouth, and wordlessly healing his bitten tongue, relieving him of the need to swallow blood repeatedly.

"What has he done?" Cedrum asked as the Dark Lord sat down, leaving Harry like a stunned mullet behind him.

Harry remained awkwardly standing, fury still shaking his hands, though considerably lessened by his shock at Voldemort grabbing his face. The pain slowly seeped into his knuckles, outweighing the adrenaline as it bled out of him, to be replaced with the nerves and embarrassment that came with Widrich, Eris, and the Dark Lord knowing any of what they'd learned.

"He acquired sensitive information that I would, ordinarily, kill for," Voldemort said.

"He did it with rats?" Cedrum asked.

"You are aware?"

"I'm aware of his tactics. I didn't know that he'd attempted it. On this one?" The necromancer asked, gesturing at Harry and lighting his pipe with his wand.

"Yes. At Skulmadras."

"And you wish to...?"

'I want to kill him,' Tom thought.

"He wants to see him dead," the Dark Lord said, referring to Harry and Tom both.

"Well..." Cedrum said, raising his eyebrows. "If it's all the same to you, I'd prefer if you didn't. Exactly how sensitive are we talking?"

"Incredibly."

"It's too late to Obliterate without frying the old thinker," Cedrum sighed again. "I would prefer him unobstructed by an Unbreakable Vow."

Harry could feel the Dark Lord rummaging in his head then. Every memory of Eris was thoroughly examined from the moment Harry had watched him under his cloak in the Slytherin Common Room before the school year commenced, right up to the fight they'd just had, along with Harry's rage-fuelled speech. After a moment, Voldemort pulled up his sleeve and pressed two gloved fingers to the Dark Mark.

Almost immediately, the door opened, and Eris was corralled into the room, scowling, still covered in blood, his eyes bleeding malice and locked on Harry.

"If there is so much as an inkling that you have uttered a single word, I will let him kill you," Voldemort said.

Harry wondered why he'd honoured Cedrum's request not to have him undertake a Vow. And so, he thought as much.

'A Vow would make it so he could'n-'

'Are you advising me?' There was a warning in his tone.

'...No.'

'Good. With me.' He stood abruptly.

Harry followed, frowning deeply and averting his eyes from the necromancers.

"What have I told you about those blasted RATS-" Cedrum boomed as the door closed behind them.

Ginny, Luna, and Avalon were waiting for him to exit. The youngest Weasley's face told him everything he needed to know about her thoughts. She was openly fuming at him from across the grass while Avalon rubbed her arm, also glaring. Luna waved again, also standing next to Ginny.

He couldn't look at them for long, his cheeks flaming as Voldemort took them out of the courtyard and back through the defence tower. His Death Eaters resumed following them.

"Tell me why you did not inform me of the situation?' the Dark Lord still in their head as Harry raced to keep up.

'I didn't really want to bring you into my problems,' he thought, but his statement fell flat. Voldemort stopped and turned to look at him.

'This major security issue? Did not think to mention it? All you do is give me your problems.' He seemed to want to grab his throat, his hands twitching, his narrowed eyes trailing to Harry's neck.

He spun away instead, resuming his rapid pace through the castle. Students gasped and tripped over themselves in the halls and stairwells, scrambling to get out of the way.

'We will consult you with the next catastrophic breach.' Tom sounded sarcastic.

The Dark Lord didn't leave their mind as he led them to the headmaster's office, which Harry now assumed he'd entirely claimed, removing Severus from his quarters.

His heart skipped several beats as he wondered if this was what he thought it was. If the Dark Lord was going to touch him first thing in the morning. The idea made him strangely giddy. He fought the feeling as best as he could, his cheeks, ears, and neck warm as his thoughts were watched.

If the Dark Lord noticed his enthusiasm, he said nothing about it as he spoke the Parseltongue password, which was already different from the last. He took the stairs ahead of him, leaving their entourage at the bottom while Harry followed behind.

He pointed at the chair tucked into the side of the desk, and Harry took it, hands on the wood.

"You have been truant from most of your classes," Voldemort said as he sat down.

Harry noticed that Nagini was missing and wondered where she was.

"In the library," the Dark Lord said absently, "Do you feel you have completed your magical education?"

"Well, no, not really. It's been... Interrupted a lot, actually." Harry meant every single year of his Hogwarts career, but the Dark Lord breezed past it.

"You will attend unless otherwise engaged."

'Like right now?' Harry thought, his eyes on Voldemort's hands.

He didn't respond immediately. Instead, he slowly removed his gloves, then the mask and hood. Harry swallowed repeatedly, fighting the urge to look at his face while he was in his head, shame bubbling every time the desire was visible in his mind.

"...On Monday, you will resume your classes. Defence Against the Dark Arts will be held on Tuesday night so as not to conflict with Necromancy classes. Cassiopeia will supply you with your new timetable tonight. I expect more effort." He touched two fingers on Harry's left hand as he finished, still in his head. Voldemort watched the tension and hate seep from his clouded mind while they both sighed, the Dark Lord's more of a forceful exhale than Harry's near giggle.

He lay his head on the desk, watching the Dark Lord's quill move rapidly. He worked to keep his eyes away from his face, biting his tongue to keep his mouth shut.

He didn't fight sleep for long. He decided that anything he said in his sleep was outside his fault and that the repercussions were potentially worse while awake. So, he closed his eyes and hoped for no sleep talking.

He drifted effortlessly, faster than he could in his bed. He felt like he'd almost been dreaming when a tightening on his arm jerked him awake.

Voldemort gripped his wrist as though he'd fallen off a cliff. He was asleep, his head on his paperwork, quill still in his left hand, lulling toward the desk and twitching in his fingers. He faced Harry, so he could see the deep frown lines that had formed between his eyebrows as his eyes raced behind his lids.

'It doesn't soothe him the same, does it?' he wondered, watching the Dark Lord's long eyelashes twitch.

Tom didn't answer him.

'What's that smell?' Harry had noticed it several times, always registering just outside of his senses.

'Cedar.'

'I like it.'

'I know.'

He felt the urge to reach out and smooth the lines between the Dark Lord's eyes. His hand was stopped in its approach, and Tom frowned at him, returning his free arm beside his head.

'Do not do that.'

Instead, Harry summoned the darkness from his left arm, snaking it delicately around the Dark Lord's fingers. He sucked in a shaky breath as he watched the scowl disintegrate from Voldemort's face. He melted into the desk, exhaled heavily, and went still, his eyes no longer rolling under his eyelids.

Tom gingerly retracted the curse as heat flooded him, making it hard to swallow. He wondered if what he'd done had been worse than touching him. He tucked his face back into his arm as the Dark Lord's grip on his arm tightened to a painful degree, digging his nails into the soft underside of his wrist. He was suddenly released as Voldemort snapped awake, his head shooting up from the desk.

Harry pretended he'd just woken up and hoped he didn't check his mind.

"…Go."

He glanced at him to find his scowl replaced, deeper than before. He stood up to do as he was told.

(A/N: This chapter was written on four days of no sleep while plane-hopping as if I were an international fugitive. Regular updates from here. If you spotted any discrepancies and/or weirdness in this chapter, please point at it. You wouldn't even believe the hell and high water I moved. I was hallucinating thousands of bugs. Enjoy.)