Chapter 17: Seventeen

Notes:

This chapter is going to start off carrying on from the last scene of the previous chapter, but then I'm skipping forward a few weeks. It will be made obvious in the text too, but just to give you a pre-warning

Warning - there is some mild smut at the start of this chapter.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

X

Harry awoke in the morning wrapped in Tom's embrace, his head pressing against his chest with arms wrapped tightly around his back.

Harry was clothed now; he didn't remember re-dressing but he supposed everything else from that night was more vivid.

He shifted away from Tom's grip, wincing as he felt pain in his backside; Tom had been rough and his body had definitely felt it. He turned onto his back; Tom was already awake, and a book was hovering in the air just above Harry.

"Ah, you're awake," Tom commented, waving his hand and causing the book to fall with a slight thud. Harry sat up; taking in Tom's appearance which he realised was immaculate. Not a single strand of hair was out of place, he was wearing fresh clothes and his cologne smelt so good that Harry would be quite happy to bury his face in Tom's skin and breathe him in.

"Have you been awake long?" Harry asked, though he knew the answer already; looking that good took time.

"Quite a while, yes," Tom answered, taking hold of Harry's hand and pressing a kiss to the top of it. Harry felt his heart flutter.

"Come to think of it, I've never seen you sleep," Harry muttered sleepily, leaning against Tom's shoulder. He had had a good night's rest, but he had no objections to sleeping some more, as long as he had Tom to cuddle up to.

"I don't particularly enjoy sleeping; I never have done," Tom told him before smirking. "You, on the other hand, seem to sleep a lot of the time. Even now, after hours of rest, you'd be quite content to stay in bed all day."

"Well this bed is so comfy it makes Hogwart's beds feel like straw, and they're nice beds at Hogwarts," Harry pointed out, smiling to himself.

"Pity how we aren't staying here all day," Tom stated, pushing the covers away from him and climbing off the bed, before he cast a Freshening Spell over himself. Harry simply fell face forward into the soft sheets, and he breathed in deeply; he had no intention of leaving just yet. Tom wasn't too pleased with Harry's decision though, and a spell soon had Harry yanked from the bed and onto the floor.

Harry scowled as he stood up, shifting uncomfortably as he felt some pain again.

"It still hurts you know," Harry muttered, glaring at Tom when he smirked.

"Good," the older boy said looking all too pleased. His expression darkened with lust and he pulled Harry closer. "I want you to remember what I did to you. I want you to feel me until I have you again." He pushed Harry away gently, turning to the door. "The Dark Lord wants me; he was rather pleased believing that I alone killed those Muggles at your cousin's funeral."

"So he wants you to do it again," Harry added bitterly, biting down on his lip.

Tom turned to him with unreadable features. "Though I long to know everything about you, you are not required to feel the same. If you prefer to know nothing of my life as a Dark wizard, then I will strive to keep the information from you."

"I know what you do, even if you don't tell me. I just try and ignore it," Harry told Tom sadly, but he offered the man a small smile.

Tom tilted Harry's head up and moved so they were nearly touching. "I still have some time before I leave," Tom murmured against his lips. His hands had trailed down to grip at Harry's waist.

"I still hurt," Harry muttered quietly, trying not to go red as he spoke. He could feel Tom smirking at him.

"That was never part of my plan; my, you are dirty-minded, Harry, my dear," Tom said and this time Harry did blush.

"Oh, I didn't mean-" Harry started, but Tom's predatory gaze cut him off.

"That isn't to say I have no plans for you; that isn't the case at all," Tom continued, pulling Harry over to the side of the room. "I doubt you'll be able to make yourself look presentable anyway, but just in case you manage it, I want to make sure everyone who looks at you knows you belong to another."

Harry started to say something but his voice changed into a yelp when Tom lifted him and pressed him against the wall.

"Put your legs around my waist," Tom ordered into Harry's neck as he began to suck on a part he had not got to before.

Harry was all too happy to oblige, the positioning making Tom's erection press against Harry's rapidly growing one.

Tom trailed his lips across Harry's skin until they reached his mouth, and as they kissed Tom began to grind against Harry; the older boy had all the control, not that Harry minded. Even through the fabric of their clothing Harry could still feel the strong sensations flowing through him as Tom rubbed against him.

He found himself bucking up slightly, trying to move against Tom, who would push into him even heavier with each of Harry's attempts. Harry's hands had found their way into Tom's hair, holding him as they kissed with intense fury.

Harry took a chance and bit down on Tom's lips as the man often did to him, and to his relief Tom actually moaned slightly into their kiss, grinding harder against Harry.

He could feel himself getting closer to the edge, and the closer he got the more he fought Tom's control, moving in sync with Tom's movements. Tom didn't seem to mind much this time however, as he was far too involved with Harry's lips and neck.

Harry came with a cry into Tom's mouth, and felt Tom shudder just moments later. The Dark wizard grabbed hold of his wand; Harry tightened the grip his legs had on Tom to feel safe, and with a quick spell they were cleaned.

Neither seemed willing to move from their position; Harry didn't know about Tom, but he found it very comforting to be pressed between Tom and a wall. He buried his face into the crook of Tom's neck.

"I really do like your cologne," Harry commented, and he heard Tom laugh, or rather he felt it; he didn't laugh loud enough for it to be picked up by ear.

"Is that why you were breathing in bed sheets earlier?" Tom asked, and Harry could hear the amusement in his voice. He probably wasn't so much amused at finding the situation funny, as finding Harry's quirks peculiar.

"I don't want to go back to Hogwarts," Harry mused aloud. "I want to go somewhere, maybe Egypt, and the two of us can live there in peace. Then we can bring Draco and Luna over and they might finally realise they're perfect for each other, and Draco won't have to be judged anymore and it will be lovely."

"That's very sentimental of you. I'm rather glad you're not a woman, otherwise you'd be begging me to impregnate you, no doubt," Tom said with a shudder; Harry wasn't surprised Tom didn't care for sentiment or children.

"Even if I was a woman and you got me pregnant, my mum would murder me anyway so you wouldn't have to worry about the baby," Harry pointed out, only half-joking. "You know in your vision of the world; would you really get rid of my mother?"

"She's a Mudblood," Tom stated, though both he and Harry knew that already.

"Yes, but she's more talented than a lot of Pure-blood wizards and witches I know; plus she can be kind of scary at times," Harry said, removing his head from Tom's neck. "You should do some sort of test for Muggle-borns, and if they're talented and skilled you should keep them in the magical world or else just Obliviate and exile them; that works better in the long-run than by murdering them all."

"Well if the Dark Lord ever got into power, I can assure you he wouldn't care what happens in the long run; the more Mud-bloods he has to kill the better," Tom said with a dark look.

"What about you?" Harry pressed, and Tom moved so Harry's legs fell back down to the floor, and he kissed Harry deeply once more, and only gave Harry a strange answer.

"I'll leave you a lily."

X

Harry and Draco had returned to Hogwarts early Sunday; neither had reason to stay at the Manor as Tom had been called away and Draco was still either being avoided by, or avoiding, his mother. The Slytherin was quiet the entire time and his eyes were bloodshot. The blond hadn't even raised an eyebrow at Harry's still ruffled appearance; no matter how hard he tried his just-shagged hair would not change.

On his way back to the Common Room, he ran into Lavender Brown; he had never been more grateful for owning scarves; his neck was covered in marks, courtesy of one Tom Riddle. Tom had wanted Harry to return to Hogwarts looking like he'd been in multiple gang-bangs over the weekend. Though his hair suggested that, and no matter how hard he tried that wouldn't change, he could at least hide the rest of the evidence.

"Hey, Harry. That's a cute scarf; where did you get it?" Lavender asked him excitedly, referring to the black scarf with skulls on wrapped carefully around his neck. The one thing that irritated Harry most about Lavender was that she treated him like a stereotypical gay man; effeminate, into fashion and camp, even though that was not the case in the slightest. True, he did have a great love for Julie Andrews, but Lavender wouldn't even know who that was, considering she was a Pure-blood. Harry realised though, he could use Lavender's beliefs to get at Ron and Hermione, and in the long-run, Neville.

"Hey Lavender," he smiled. "I got it from a Muggle designer shop." That was a lie; he had bought it from a stall in Camden Market, but he certainly got Lavender's attention.

"Oh, I didn't realise Muggles could make such good things," the girl squealed, reaching out to touch the scarf; Harry pulled back, not wanting to reveal his neck to the girl, because she was sure to gossip.

"Do you mind if I ask you something?" Harry said, changing the subject. He had made the tone of his voice slightly higher to please Lavender, and it had succeeded in getting her full focus. When she shook her head, Harry continued. "Do you have a thing for Ron?"

Lavender looked around before nodding and giggling. "He's just so cute; and so funny too! I just wish he'd ask me out already; you know, I've seen him looking at me too, but that Hermione stops him I bet; it's no secret she's been pining after him for years."

"Hmm, well I was reading a Muggle magazine the other day, and there was this article about getting a boyfriend," Harry lied; Lavender looked intrigued. "And do you know what it said the best thing to do was?"

"No; what? Go on, you have to tell me," Lavender begged, almost bouncing on the balls of her feet.

"It said that guys like independence in a girl, and that a girl who asks them out has the highest probability of getting a lasting relationship." Harry made all that up completely, of course, but Lavender bought it entirely.

"Really? Oh I'll have to give that a try; thanks, Harry. I'm going to go get Parvati to help me do my hair," the girl sang before literally skipping away.

X

On Monday, Neville Longbottom approached him; Harry was sat in the library on his own, with Hermione lagging behind him. The girl looked rather miserable, even though she seemed to be trying to hide it.

"Hi Harry," Neville greeted, smiling at Harry, who faked a smile back. "We heard about what happened at your cousin's funeral. It's awful; they kill him and won't even let him rest in peace."

"Oh, yeah; my uncle was injured badly in the attack too," Harry murmured, feigning sadness. He was sad about the Muggles that had died, but he had only seen his Uncle twice that he could remember, and both times the man had been nothing but cruel to him. Neville and Hermione both looked sympathetic.

"Will he be okay?" Hermione questioned, sitting down beside Harry and pulling out her own homework.

"Who knows?" Harry answered with a shrug. He lowered his voice as he leant in towards Neville. "So what's going on with the You-Know-Who situation? Even when it involves my family my parents still won't tell me anything."

"Dumbledore seems to know what he's doing; everything will work out fine," Neville said, nodding. "To be honest, even I don't know what he's got planned yet. He's never here though, so he must be working on something."

"You don't know where he's going then?" Harry asked, not caring for the blatant questioning; he'd just look nosy.

Neville shook his head. "No, sorry."

Harry supposed Neville really didn't know anything; how was this boy meant to defeat the Dark Lord when he left everything to Dumbledore?

"Where's Ron?" Harry asked, aiming his question more at Hermione.

"No doubt making out with his new girlfriend," the girl answered sharply. She seemed to compose herself after realising thanks to Neville's irritatingly goofy smile. "Ron and Lavender are dating now and can't seem to keep their hands off each other; really, it's N.E. ; they should be focusing on their exams and not each other."

"He's just enjoying himself," Neville suggested, but that seemed to infuriate Hermione.

"How can he when it's all he does constantly?" Hermione snapped, slamming her book shut and pushing it into her bag. "I'm going to study in my room."

Neville glanced at Harry before running after Hermione, shouting his apologies and ignoring Madame Pince's warnings.

He noticed Hermione had left behind her copy of the Daily Prophet. There had been an attack in a seaside town in Yorkshire, leaving fifty Muggles dead after a whole cliff had crumbled away without warning. It would have been declared natural causes had the Dark Mark not been spotted in the sky above the area.

The picture flashed the horrific scene, but in the very corner of the picture shone a pure white lily.

X

The next month seemed to pass by in a blur, as each day seemed to play out the same way.

His lessons became more intensive each week, so in his free time he was either doing homework or assisting Draco with the Cabinet. They had been made to work on non-verbal spells a lot now. Harry noticed Tom used non-verbal spells a lot of the time, and when he asked him about it, the older boy had told him in fights it was a highly valuable advantage because it's harder for an opponent to defend, and after a while it becomes habitual.

Harry had also noticed Tom would very occasionally use wandless magic; the only other wizard who did such was Dumbledore, but there was no mention of it in lessons. Harry supposed his Ancient Magic was wandless, but not in the same way. He had been working on those skills too, trying to control more of what he could do. He, unfortunately by practice, knew a lot on defensive skills but not so much on attack; not that he planned to attack anyone, but it was always useful to know.

His Animagus lessons were continuing at a good pace, and Professor McGonagall had told him he was on target for finishing in the next month. If he carried on with no mishaps and perhaps even pushed over the time boundary, he would be sure to be able to join Draco in his animagus form on the next Full Moon. He was used to finding his magic now, but the Animagus part came from manipulating that magic which was a lot harder, so he could only hope he managed that part well too. He hadn't told Tom he was practicing it yet; he wanted to wait to surprise him with whatever animal he was.

Weekends were still spent at Malfoy Manor, and each time he'd come away with more love-bites and a sore behind.

There were bad points of the month, of course. Harry had been receiving unusual gifts; he supposed he could call them that. A bouquet of wilting roses had been left on his bed, and nobody had claimed responsibility for them. He had woken up in the middle of the night once, to discover the window by his bed open; when he pulled it shut he found love hearts scrawled on the outside which looked like it had been written in blood. Another day he found bones in his trunk, though animal or human he didn't know; he didn't keep them long enough to study. The worst discovery had been the basket of kitten heads left on his pillow. After seeing that he had thrown up, cried, thrown up again and cried some more, shaking in his bed instead of sleeping.

Tom hadn't made much reaction when Harry had told him; sometimes he would just smile darkly, while other times he would frown or look thoughtful; it was the latter times that Tom would fuck Harry, almost like he would suddenly become very possessive. The most reaction he had got out of Tom was when he told him tearfully about the kittens; Orion, who was much bigger than he had been before, now had a new friend, a beautiful Birman kitten who Harry named Bast.

Harry first thought that Marvolo was behind everything, but with Tom's reactions he wondered if Tom had had anything to do with anything he had received. He had asked once and Tom had given him a vague answer which didn't clear anything up, and the next day an amulet had arrived for Harry with the name Mehen written on it in Ancient Egyptian; Mehen being a protective snake-like god.

Draco had acted strangely throughout the month. He would sometimes be very cheerful; generally when the Vanishing Cabinet co-operated with his attempts to fix it. He would also go very quiet at times and appear to be lost in thoughts.

Draco and Luna had become a lot closer as the time went on. Draco was one of the only people, besides Harry, who would actually listen to Luna and pay attention to what she had to say, even if sometimes what she was saying really was far out there. Luna seemed to make Draco smile genuinely. It was clear to Harry that Draco had a crush on Luna, but whether he was afraid of what people might think of him if he dated her, or if his Lycanthropy made him feel inadequate, Harry didn't know, but something was preventing their relationship going any further. Luna definitely liked Draco, as she told Harry on multiple occasions that he was dreamy, but he knew Luna would be happy with or without him.

Draco had just had his first Full Moon, and in the days leading up to it he had been very restless and quick to anger. The pull of the moon was more intense for new werewolves, so Harry had heard, which made Draco's emotions stronger.

The date of the Hogsmede weekend was after the Full Moon, and Draco was determined to go, no matter how bad he felt. He insisted on Harry and Luna joining him; Luna couldn't because the conditions were just right for finding Dabberblimps.

"The cold weather brings them to the surface," she had said.

Draco rarely spoke to the other Slytherins anymore, and when they did it was mainly to keep up their image. Nobody else other than Harry and Luna realised it was all false. Blaise and Pansy would sometimes talk to Draco, but they seemed to leave abruptly, and one time Harry thought he had spotted Pansy crying as she walked away from Malfoy. They seemed to be trying to fight their prejudices, but having it engrained in them for so long made it difficult. The fact they were trying told Harry they were good friends for Draco.

Harry strolled down towards the Entrance Hall to meet Malfoy; he was easy to spot. His blond hair wasn't in it's usual, immaculate state; instead it was matted and flowing freely about his face, while his skin looked grey and his eyes tired. Even his clothing wasn't his usual style, instead wearing loose fitting trousers and a jumper one size too big. Most of his clothes were fitted and styled to perfection.

"How are you feeling?" Harry asked with concern as he met the Slytherin.

"Rough," Draco answered simply, his voice hoarse. "I have a lot to do; we need to get going."

Harry nodded and followed Draco from the school. As they hurried down the snowy path to the village, they walked past a giggling Lavender who was tugging Ron to Madame Puddifoot's Tea Shop.

"I can't think of a much more perfect couple than those two irritating twats," Draco commented, disgust on his face as he watched the pair disappear inside. "At least if they breed together all the stupidity can be contained to one family. We just need to set up Longbottom and Granger and we're set, and hopefully they'll be taken care of before they can bring any chubby buck-toothed babies into the world."

"This relationship stuff is breaking up the Golden Trio," Harry said with a smirk. He wiped it off his face once he realised; he had been spending far too much time around Slytherins. "Hermione is really jealous about Ron dating Lavender, but Neville is too dim-witted to see that so he's defending Ron which makes Hermione even angrier. It's sort of funny to watch in a way."

Draco had led them to the outskirts of Hogwarts, near to the Shrieking Shack. Draco looked at the building and grimaced.

"Did you spend the night there?" Harry asked, noticing the other's discomfort.

"Yeah; Lupin told me about it and how to get there. He also said I'm lucky to get the Wolfsbane, but the transformation hurt plenty anyway," Draco answered, rubbing at his wrist. "He suggested I go a month without the potion so I'll appreciate it more; I can't understand why he thinks I'd willingly put myself through the pain and let my mind become monstrous too."

"He has a point," Harry cut in. "What if you were without Wolfsbane without notice or something?"

"I'm not going to, alright!" Draco snapped, and he sounded so vicious Harry couldn't help but take a step back. It was the Lycanthropy talking though; Remus was often snappy around the Full Moon, and he was already used to the transformation and it's effects by the time Harry was old enough to understand.

"Okay, so what's the plan for here then?" Harry asked softly, stepping closer to Malfoy again.

"I don't know if you remember, but I found that book at Grimmauld Place about a curse that makes any object deadly to the touch," Draco told him, and Harry nodded; he remembered very well. "Well I've found the perfect object." He pulled out a dark green box wrapped in light blue paper. "It's an ordinary pair of gloves, nothing Dark about them, apart from the Curse I put on, of course. One touch of the fabric and Dumbledore'll be dead."

"How are you going to get it to Dumbledore?" Harry enquired with interest; if Draco had to kill somebody, at least doing it this way rather than face to face would save Draco's humanity somewhat.

"I'm going to cast Imperius on Madame Rosmerta," Draco explained, casting his eyes to the blurry form of the Three Broomsticks in the distance. "I'll get her to use the same curse on whichever girl she finds first; she'll take it to Dumbledore and even if they managed to trace it, it would all go back to Rosmerta. Here." Draco rapped his wand over Harry, casting the Disillusionment Spell. "Your Invisibility Cloak would have been useful."

"It wasn't my choice to have a psychotic Dark Lord steal it," Harry murmured under his breath. "Are you still sure this is the best idea? I can see a few ways it could go wrong."

"How?" Draco hissed.

"Well for one thing, Dumbledore might have a spell to check for curses before he opens anything-"

"The book said it was undetectable," Draco said through gritted teeth, angrily barging around the crowds as they arrived in the village centre.

"It's Dumbledore we're talking about," Harry pointed out.

Malfoy ignored him as he pushed the door to the Three Broomsticks open and headed towards the store room.

They slipped inside and the door closed on them, casting them into darkness.

"What if Rosmerta's spell doesn't work as well because she's already under your influence? I've not heard of anybody used Imperio to make another person cast Imperio."

"Why shouldn't they? That Moody imposter made Longbottom do incredible gymnastics, and we all know on a normal day he can't even bend down to touch his toes."

Harry opened his mouth to respond, but the door creaked open, revealing the curvaceous figure of Madame Rosmerta.

"Imperio," Draco whispered, and the spell washed over the woman. She swayed for a moment as her eyes glazed over. She dropped the boxes she was holding and calmly walked away as if there was nothing wrong.

"I still think this is a bad idea," Harry muttered, and he winced as Draco pushed him roughly against a wall.

"Will you stop doubting me for one second?" the boy growled, spit hitting Harry's face. "Believe it or not I am capable."

He pushed Harry away, and the Gryffindor quickly followed him as he saw the door open by invisible force.

As he went after Draco he barged straight into Katie Bell, causing her to drop a box she had been carrying; it fell to the ground with a smash. Harry stood frozen as Katie stared straight through him.

"Are you okay, Katie?" Harry heard another girl call.

"I'm fine, Leanne," Katie answered, her eyes still looking around in confusion. "I smashed my perfume though. Do you mind if we head back to replace it?"

"No, do you still want to use the bathroom first?" Leanne asked, and Katie shook her head.

"I can hold it," she said with a grin, linking her arms with Leanne's. She cast a Cleaning Spell over the mess and left the pub with her friend.

Harry followed quickly after them, where Draco was waiting outside, the spell now worn off.

"Can you get rid of mine?" he asked, and Draco nodded, indicating for him to follow him round the back so Harry wouldn't appear out of thin air. "Listen, it's not that I doubt you," Harry explained once he was visible again. "I just don't want anything to go wrong; I'd rather you just finish Dumbledore off easily and quickly."

"This will be easy and quick," Draco stated, though he looked unsure. "We should go back to the castle now, I suppose." Harry nodded in agreement; it was rather cold out.

They headed back up the path to Hogwarts which was almost deserted, save for Cho Chang and her friend Marietta Edgecombe, who were walking slightly ahead of them.

They seemed to be arguing, Harry noticed, as their voices got louder and louder. Marietta was tugging at something in Cho's hand; the box.

"Draco," Harry muttered, pulling on the boy's sleeve to draw his attention. The Slytherin's eyes widened as he realised.

Harry noticed they had both sped up, but they were too late.

As the girls tugged at the box, Cho pulled so hard that she tumbled backwards, slipping on the ice. As she fell, the lid flew off the box, allowing the gloves to fall, settling vibrantly against the snow.

The Ravenclaw reached out to push herself up with her bare hands, and her fingers just brushed the fabric of the gloves. She fell back to the floor and then she was still; too still.

Harry and Draco had frozen too, Harry tightening his grip on Draco's sleeve. Marietta was the only one who was moving; screaming as she collapsed at Cho's side.

"Draco," Harry muttered, ice running through his veins. "What have you done?"

X

Notes:

Kudos to Ulquiarra for giving me the idea of kitten heads. I'll tell you all now, that was Marvolo; even Tom wouldn't be so cruel towards kittens.

Date: 2015-12-18; view: 578