Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Tommy, Son of a Dark Lord	By : SomethingElse Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male Views: 30421 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters or places in either the movies or books, and I make no money off of these stories.

Chapter List
- 17
- 18
- 19
AN: The next two chapters have some squicky stuff, just skip from the * to the # and it should be fine.

Chapter Eighteen: Oliver and Harry come together

Harry backed into the room and found himself against the wall, pinned between Oliver's arms and his lips locked beneath the force of the older wizard's kiss. When they came up for air, Oliver laughed nervously and Harry pet his cheek. “I want you, Ollie. Please.”

Even the Dark Lord had once commented that Oliver was a quick learner, and it didn't take a second request to get him in motion. He lifted Harry from the floor, said a quick “Levitarius” and crossed the room. Harry chuckled at his use of the spell and went willingly. Soon, they were skin on skin, sweaty and frantic, rolling around on the bed and clutching at each other with desperation.

Harry gasped, “Now, Ollie. Please, take me!” and Oliver obliged. Oliver's wood speared home neatly, and Harry gritted his teeth, not as prepared as he had thought, but no stranger to male experimentation, especially after six years in an all boys dorm. Oliver saw the pained expression and paused, but Harry would have none of that. “Move, Ollie. I'm fine. I need this, so badly.”

“Oh, Harry. God, Harry.” Oliver said as he pulled out and thrust back home. He set a harsh pace, driving in with determination well-known in Gryffindors, and pulling nearly out before snapping his hips and returning. Harry clutched and scrambled, equally desperate for release, and his lips traveled the length and breadth of his lover's chest and shoulders, kisses, licks and nibbles decorating Oliver's body with marks of love.

The sensation of Harry's loving, never known in his time under the rule of the Death Eaters, was tonic to his nerves and therapy for his mind. He relaxed into his exertion, moving more deliberately and striking Harry's prostate with more accuracy. His lover's shouts became encouragement to continue in that way and he found he slipped into a natural flow of lovemaking that drove them steadily toward their mutual climax.

Oliver came first, spasming into the Chosen-One and driving on with strong motivated thrusts that dragged Harry over the precipice and into bliss. When Oliver dropped onto the bed next to him, Harry sighed contentedly, “That was brilliant, Ollie.”

“I never knew it could be like that. Thank you, Harry. You're my savior.”

“Not you, too.” Harry chuckled and snuggled closer, quickly banishing the mess and pulling the covers over them. The practice with wandless magic was paying off.

George came through the floo, even as Oliver was heading out the door, and Harry grinned at them both. For different reasons. George caught on fast. “So, you finally got down to the nasty, eh?” he asked and Oliver blushed fuchsia before he left.

“George, that was unnecessary, but so cute. Thanks.” Harry said as he hugged one of his dearest friends. “The reason I called you over is I need you to watch Tommy while I go for a visit to the burrow.”

“Oh, I don't envy you, after making yourself scarce for so long. I suppose Ron and Hermione have paved the way, but Mum is in a right tither.” George smirked. “Hey, Tommy! Guess who's coming over to help you diagnose and treat all of your sick toys? And if they aren't sick, we'll get them there.”

Tommy jumped up from his toys and ran to the taller man, jumping at the last second and hurling himself into George's arms. “Unco Jowge!”

“Yep, Uncle George to the rescue. I brought my special ingredients, and we are going to make some new potions today.”

“What have you brought?” Harry asked and George winked.

“Empty bottles, Harry.” he whispered. “I'd never endanger the boy. Besides, he has some radical ideas for potions. I take notes, and try them with the real stuff, later. Last time, he gave me the recipe for a polyjuice that lasts for months. It's amazing what that kid has got locked up in his head.”

“Just don't wear him out or get him wired up. His nap-time isn't until two. I'd like it if he was asleep when I get home, so I can do some research.”

“You're the boss, Harry. Right, Tom?”

“Not Tom. Tommy! Tommy is not daddy!” the little boy insisted as he pushed back onto the floor, taking George's hand and dragging him into the parlor.

“Oh, right. Let's do this, Tommy.”

Harry came through the floo and stood for the various hugs and back pats that constituted a Weasley greeting, hoping that the eventual questions were vague enough that he wouldn't have to lie, because he knew he was pants at it. His fears were unfounded, as Hermione had given the family what she thought they needed to know and warned them off drilling him over his decisions. Ron had backed her up, and was willing to avoid the conversations as long as possible.

Molly was fidgeting with plates of food, her lips tightly closed and her eyes darting around as she passed the food to Harry, who sat next to her and Percy at the table. “We've missed you around here. You'll have to come over more often, Harry.”

“I'll try Molly, but I've been very busy.”

“Oh, big project?” She asked and Arthur looked up.

“Anything I can help you with, Son?” the man said.

“No, thank you. I'm fine. Besides, Hermione is already working on the research for me.”

“So, you are working on something.” Percy asked.

“Well, yes. I'm just helping out an old friend. It has to do with runes, and I've never been very good with them. I didn't take the class at school.” Harry said.

“Percy is good with runes.” Molly suggested. “Or Bill.”

“I'd be happy to offer my assistance.” Percy said.

“No, that's not necessary. Really.” Harry said.

“Mum, we told you, Harry doesn't want to talk about it.” Ron said.

“We didn't ask. Ronald, we can offer to help. It's not like we were prying.” Molly sulked in her place and Harry sighed.

“I can't tell you, really. If it was only me, I'd be happy to. But this is someone else's secret. I'm sorry, really I am.” Harry was feeling guilty for his duplicity, but he couldn't subject Tommy to ridicule, even if it was only the Weasleys. His adopted family.

“I would never try to pry.” Molly insisted.

“No, we wouldn't do that.” Arthur added.

“I'd better go. I asked George to come over and keep an eye on . . . . things. I want to let him get home so Hannah won't be alone too long.” Harry rose and wiped his mouth with his napkins and headed for the floo.

“No, don't go. George will be home in plenty of time. Hannah is a fine mother. They're wonderful parents and little Freddie is fine. We hardly see you anymore, Harry.” Molly had risen and now blocked the doorway to the living room where the floo was. “Please, I promise not to ask about what's keeping you away from us, just don't shut us out, Harry. Please?”

“Molly, I'll come back. I promise. I just need to go. He needs me.” Harry pushed past her and into the fireplace before she had finished stuttering.

“Who? Who needs you? Harry? Harry Potter!”

“Mum, we warned you. He's very touchy.” Ron said.

“Ronald Weasley. Is Harry dating someone that you and Hermione are afraid to tell me about? Is that what this is all about?” Molly corned her son.

“Dating? Harry? Mum, no that's not what's going on. He's not dating him, he's just taking care of . . . oops.” Ron rose and rushed to the floo, pulling Hermione behind him. “Grimmauld Place.” He called, dropping the powder and disappearing before his mother processed his slip.

“Harry? Mal–Tommy?” Ron called as he and his wife came out of the floo in Harry's parlor. “Where are they?”

“I don't know. What did you do that for?” Hermione said.

“You know my mother. One slip and it's like I'm on trial, and Azkaban would be better than living with her while she tries to solve a riddle.”

“But, now we can't go back for a bit. How long do you suppose we'll need to hide out?”

“A good while. Kreacher?” Ron called and the old elf popped in.

“The blood traitor and the mudblood are here. I wonder if Master Harry is expecting them. He didn't tell Kreacher. I suppose I'll need to get more food. That wizard eats very much. Master Weasley, can Kreacher help you?”

“Yeah, can you go to my house and pick up some of our clothes. The room on the fifth floor. Just enough for a few days, okay?”

“Kreacher will have to tell Master Harry. He's busy with the special boy in the bathroom of the nursery. Wait here.”

Kreacher popped out, but Ron and Hermione started up the stairs before he returned and when they heard voices, they looked into a door that was ajar.

“Okay, Tommy. Let's dry you and get you dressed. I have a special story for you, tonight. I'm sorry for leaving you tonight. Did you eat anything of your dinner?”

“Unco Jowge doesn't know how to hold the spoon wight. It spilled all over my bwoo shirt. I don't wike to have soup on my shirt.” Tommy said with a pout.

“Did you eat your sandwiches?”

“I did. Tuna!” Tommy announced.

“You like tuna.” Harry said.

“Tuna is Tommy's favowite.”

“Okay. Now, Up on the table. Do you need me to pick you up?”

“Tommy can climb up. Use the white powder. Tommy likes the smell.”

“You do? Okay. There, now sit up and let's put on your jammies.” There was a pause and Hermione had reached the corner of the room, where an alcove held the changing table and Harry's back was to them. “Can you take your thumb out of your mouth, please?”

“Harry? Why are dey here?” Tommy said, pointing to the intruders.

“Ron, Hermione? What are you doing up here? Kreacher said you were waiting downstairs.” Harry asked.

“Sorry, Mate, You really are taking care of him, aren't you?”

“What did you think, Ron. He can't do things for himself, yet. Until he can, I'll take care of him. You and your family would never understand, or accept it, and I can't keep going back and hoping they don't ask for more details. I won't cause him the embarrassment that would bring when he's cured. It wouldn't be fair. He's been through too much already.”

“Tommy? Can Auntie Hermione help you? I know a bit about jammies. Harry and Ron need to get this out of their systems. Take it downstairs, boys. You're upsetting the baby.” Hermione shooed them out and held Tommy's sleeve so he could put his arm in. He had been sucking determinedly on his thumb as Harry yelled at her husband, and she recognized the signs of panic. “There. How about a story? I can read you one. Can you get down?”

Hermione was not prepared for Tommy reaching out to her, his arms wrapped around her neck and his weight coming onto her shoulders. “You should use the accommo spell.” he told her.

“You are very smart, Tommy. Okay, Accomodata.” Now, Tommy was wrapped around her, his legs encircling her waist as she carried him into the other room and put him into the bed. Before she had pulled the covers up, Kreacher popped in with a bottle and a message.

“Master Harry and the Weasley are still yelling in the Parlor. Your things are in the bedroom on the third floor. Kreacher has made Master Tommy's potion.”

“Thank you, Kreacher. Here you go. What story shall Auntie Hermione read you?”

“Arthur and Mordred. The blue book with the dragon. Tommy likes dragons.” Tommy fell back on the pillows and stuffed the nipple into his mouth, sucking contentedly while Hermione chose the book from his small collection. It was a long story, but she had only gotten half way when she noted that her audience was asleep.

“Well, I'll just go and see what your Papa and Uncle Ron are up to. Sleep tight, Tommy.” Hermione rose and placed a soft kiss on Tommy's forehead, just under his curly black fringe. “I can't believe I'm doing this.”

Tommy sighed and rolled to his side, mumbling in his sleep, “unco won weezy.”

Hermione smiled and lifted the rails that Harry had attached to the bed before she left and headed down the stair.

“It's still Malfoy!” Ron said.

“No, it's not. Not exactly. If he comes back, then you can act like a prat, but right now, he's Tommy, a little boy, just a little boy.”

Hermione was sure this was going nowhere, so she interrupted. “A precocious little boy. It's no wonder his parents were so dedicated to him. I hope to have a child so adorable one day.”

“Not you, too. He's a pure-blood supremacist, Hermione. He's a boastful, pain in the ass stuck up prig.”

“He was. Was! Now, Ronald Weasley, you are going to stop this right now, or I will take the room upstairs and you can go home. I'll happily ask Kreacher to deposit you there.”

“Home? By myself. Hermione, if I go home without you, not only will they start on me about Harry, but they'll want to know why you didn't come back with me.”

“I know. So, are you going to behave?” Ron sighed and nodded and Hermione smiled and wrapped her arms around him. “It was so cute. He called you Uncle Ron Weezy.”

“What? No.” Ron allowed himself to be pulled toward the stairs and up to the room that they would be using while they stayed. Harry laughed as they exited and went up to make sure the monitor spell was engaged.

Hermione set a brutal pace, researching first at Hogwarts, with the assistance of Professor Bathsheba Babbling. She ordered special books from Flourish and Blotts, Obscurus Books, and Whizzhard's. Her research took her over four weeks, and she returned just before Oliver was due to come and stay with Harry again.

“I've found it!” she snapped as she was deposited in his parlor, startling Tommy who was mixing a dreamless sleep potion for his 'poor Slippy' who wasn't sleeping well these days. He rushed to climb onto Harry's lap as she stood there waving a piece of parchment in front of the fireplace. Ron came through seconds later.

“Hey, Harry. She couldn't wait to bring it through. Sorry, Malf–Tommy.”

Harry cuddled the frightened baby as Hermione put the paper in front of him and began to describe her search. He merely petted Tommy's back and held him until her fire died down and she dropped onto her knees in front of his coffee table. “And this rune will nullify the other” he asked.

“It won't nullify it, but it will counter it's effects. The only way to nullify it, would be to remove it and that would take another month of inactivity. I'm afraid he's stuck with it, for now.” she said.

“Okay, but how do we use this one? I don't want to inflict anything painful on him.”

“Oh, just put it on his clothes and he'll be in contact with it. In fact, to make up for scaring him, I'll help with that. Where are his things?”

“Up stairs. I'll show you. Come on, Tommy. Let's just . . Levitarius.” and Harry hoisted Tommy onto his hip and headed for the stairs. Tommy's legs wrapped around him and his arms clung to his savior's neck.

“Come on, Ron.” Hermione called as she rushed forward.

“How do you do that?” Ron asked as he followed. “Carry him around, all the time.”

“I don't. He's usually content to play, and I would have someone watch him, but there's no one here. Kreacher went out to get food. We go through it a lot faster, now days.”

“Ron could watch him.” Hermione offered.

“What? No.” Ron said.

“Ronald, there's nothing to it. Just watch him, make sure he doesn't go anywhere and let him play. We won't be long.” Hermione stood with her hands balled into fists on her hips and even Harry was afraid to argue. Tommy slid of his hip and took hold of the red-head's hand, pulling him over to where his toys were arranged.

“Slippy is sick. Come make a potion with me, Unco Won.”

Ron let himself be led, but his eyes stayed on the other two with a helpless plea. Harry smiled and took Hermione up to the trunks where Tommy's things were kept.

Oliver held up the blue shirt with a snitch stitched on its front and a slightly darker rune set into the back, just inside of the fabric. His eyebrow rose and he shook his head as he considered it. “So, there's one of these inside of everything he wears?” Ollie asked.

“Yes. Hermione said it was safer to just put it in everything. So far there's no change, but it's only been two days." Oliver put the shirt down and went to remove his own. Harry watched him and an idea that had been festering in him for days grew too bold to be stopped. “Show me what they did to you.” Harry said as he stood by the bed, his clothing folded on a stool near the window and his wand on the nightstand. “Let me help you deal with it, okay?”

*

Oliver turned abruptly, and dropped his shirt onto the floor. Harry waited and the older wizard closed his eyes and stood like a statue. Just as Harry was about to reject the idea as a mistake, Oliver spoke. His voice was like chalk on a blackboard and he kept his eyes closed. “I wouldn't hurt you, like that. I don't know if I could stop in time, though.”

“Then, start with the simple stuff. We'll take it slow.” Harry offered.

Oliver's eyes opened and he picked up his wand. He took a deep breath and waved it in the air, not at Harry but just above them. A strip of something black floated out of the tip and hovered in the air. Oliver looked at it, then at Harry and waited. “Are you sure?” he seemed to be asking and Harry nodded for him to continue.

The black strip followed Oliver's wand as he swished it toward Harry, leading it to his cock and balls, where it slithered around and bound him tight, twisting up the length of his penis to work its way inside the piss slit and embed itself there. Harry gasped as he felt it, not sure how he could be getting hard with something foreign squeezing him there.

“Gah, Ollie. That's so . . . shit!” Harry said.

“You can't pee, you can't cum, you can't stop it from doing that. It's how they kept me every time I was brought in for a day.”

“Show me more.” Harry managed, though he closed his eyes and drew deep breaths.

Oliver raised his wand, his mouth moving over silent words, his other hand clenching as he moved it from side to side, then up and abruptly down. Harry gasped and grabbed the bedpost and shook violently. The feeling of his arse being filled, as if something inside were growing so fast that it would soon be too much, was alien and very uncomfortable. Oliver froze and waited as the spell completed itself. “Tell me why.” Harry's voice was breathy.

“That was to make it feel tight, after they'd stretched you. It opens at the end and when they fuck you, it expands around them. There's a tiny hole at the other end so the cum goes through. It was a rule that it stayed inside until one of the other slaves could clean it out. I had to do it for the others, too. They kept at it until my belly was distended from the load inside of my bowels. It was painful, when the cramps started, and they'd leave me like this, tied to a wall, as they laughed at me and fucked my face. They'd stick tubes into my throat, seven or eight at a time, and pee into my stomach. I'd feel the urine filling me, and my bladder would ache, but I couldn't release it. Then, when I was ready to go home, they'd release the bindings.” Oliver waved his wand and the black ribbon unwound from Harry's balls and rose up, still embedded in his urethra. “Then, I had to drink it all back into myself.” The free end hovered in front of Harry's face, like a tiny snake ready to strike.

Harry opened his mouth and clamped his lips over the black end, closing his eyes and relaxing his body as his fluids entered the tube of black. He sucked deeply, drawing the warm flow into his mouth and swallowing the bitter liquid. Oliver stood where he was, panting as he watched and his wand fell to the floor. Harry opened his eyes and spit the tube out, letting it fall to the floor and slide free from his body. “Did they let you go home then?” he said.

“Yes. But, the rules followed. I had to drink what ever came out of me. I couldn't let the fluids that contained the Dark Lord's be wasted. I still can't!” and the older man fell to his knees, sobbing heavily.

Harry rushed across the room, dropping next to his lover and holding him close. “Ollie. It's okay, now. I'll help you. Come with me.” He pulled Oliver to his feet and guided him to the bathroom, grabbing a cup from the sink. “Here. Use this.” he handed it to his lover and Oliver stared at it. “Just do it. I promise, it'll be okay.”

Oliver stood over the toilet, holding the cup in his hand as he unzipped the fly of his jeans. Harry licked his lips as he watched the flaccid organ come free and land on the rim of the cup. Oliver held the head and aimed it, letting a breath out that he hadn't known he was holding. He relaxed and the liquid drained out, into the cup, filling it to the rim. It was always like that. He held it in as long as he could, dreading the trip to the loo like no other.

Harry reached out and took the cup, prying it from Oliver's hand before the older wizard could put it to his lips. He held the hand that now strained to take it back and tipped it up, drinking every drop as his lover watched. “Now, you don't ever have to do it again. The Dark Lord's pee isn't in you anymore. It's gone and you didn't do anything wrong. You're safe, Ollie.”

“What are you going to do with it?” Oliver said.

#

“I'm going to take care of it. Don't worry. It's not your problem, anymore.” Harry rinsed out the cup and his mouth, casting a scourgify with the wand he'd retrieved from the nightstand. He took Ollie's hand and led him back into the room, stepping oddly due to the expanded thing inside of him. “Fuck me, Ollie. Fuck me so I can see how it feels to be filled with you. Fuck me over and over, until my belly sticks out and I look pregnant with your cum. Fill me, Ollie. I even have a potion that can make it easier.”

Harry handed him a vial and Oliver looked at him with denial in his eyes. Harry pushed it to his lips and smiled. “You're sure?”

“I want you. I want this. I won't take the potion, cause I want to feel how tired and worn you were, but I want to feel this. Please, Ollie?” Harry begged.

“I. I want you, too. If you're sure?” he hedged, but Harry pushed his hand harder and the bottle brushed his lips. He upended the vial and the liquid rolled down his throat. The effect was slow, like a fire in his belly and then his cock snapped up, ready and leaking.

“See. You're ready, already.” Harry joked, climbing onto his hands and knees on the bed. Oliver launched at him and things got real interesting.
- 17
- 18
- 19
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Tommy, Son of a Dark Lord