Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Yes Tom
By : Sevy14
Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female
Views: 1706 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I make no money from this story.
Chapter List
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Returning home I find Evangaline and the boy asleep in my bed. I couldn't quite place how I felt when I walked in and saw them sleeping, his head resting upon her breast, her arm wrapped around him, and her fingers, rubbing back and forth on his arm-almost like an after thought. I stood there staring for a few minutes longer looking at the pair before turning walking past them, unbuttoning my shirt and removing it as I reached the bathroom door. Shutting the bathroom door I looked in the mirror, my face, looked just like the boys, that unnerved me a bit. His features, while dimmed down a bit due to the mix between Evangaline and myself he was undoubtedly, my son. I turn on the shower and step in. The water running over my body stung as the hotness ate at my skin, I leaned into the water, allowing it to engulf my body and I closed my eyes just feeling the water running over me. Minutes pass and I eventually turn off the water and step out of the shower. With the water dripping onto the floor I dry off, noticing the pink of my skin from the heat of the water. I wrap a towel around my waste and exit the bathroom and open my dresser drawer, pulling out a pair of casual pants and slip them on. Looking at Evangaline and the boy as I pass by the bed again they're still asleep. Hanging up the towel in the bathroom I contemplate laying down with them but dismiss that idea and leave the room to go look about the boys room, I am still very curious about him, as well as if there are any other similarities between us that I have yet to discover.

Walking into the boys' room my eyes are drawn to the parchment laying upon the floor. I bend down and pick it up walking to the bed I sit and turn the parchment over in my hands. It is fine parchment, definitely expensive, as is the ink that stains its body. After my inspection of the parchment I begin to read the offensive words written upon the pages face:

"Riddle you piece of filth,

Your damn excuse of an owl woke us all up this morning. It's lucky that I couldn't get to it-otherwise you'd have had a dead owl upon your bed. Why are you even here Riddle? You're nothing. Just a piece of trash stinking up the halls, why don't you just leave and never return, it'll be a favor to us all. You aren't even a real wizard. You have no family. Just a whore mother; probably as useless and trashy as you-that's why you have no father. Because the womb that bore is trash. That's all you are, just poor, vile, dirty trash.

I'm going to talk to my father. He'll see to it that you never return to Drumstrang. Do you talk to your father? Oh that's right, you have no father, you stupid piece of filth. My father is an important man and once he says something you'll never be allowed back here; shammed just like your dog mother. Then we'll see just who's at the top of the class. I'm already the richest here and I should be number one in our class except you seem to think that's your place. But you don't know where your place is. It is beneath me. I am superior to you. I bet you're not even pure. Filth like you in our school shouldn't be allowed. I'll see to it that father knows of you and your vileness and then you'll be gone.

Just you wait Riddle. You'll see. You're nothing. And I am everything that you'll never be. Some of us are just better than others. One day, you'll be answering to me and I will see to it that you will be cleaning the stalls of magical creatures-you're not good enough to clean those of proper, pure wizards. Just you wait Riddle. Just you wait.

Your better in every meaning of the word,

K.K.

PS: Have a fun Christmas with your whore of a mother and without your father, you piece of filth."

I did not get angry like Evangaline, but I could feel the darkness swirling within me and a pang stab at my chest and gut. It wasn't guilt, but rather, protectiveness. I threw the parchment down as soon as I identified the emotion. Protectiveness… I knew that everything had changed, or well, I had just changed. It was slow and gradual, and then bam! It hit me. This new emotion ricocheting around within me, and I didn't know how to handle such a strong feeling. I knew I had to make a choice on the matter. Do I go forward with this-this emotion or do I let it be and will it away. Glancing back down at the letter I pick it up and exit the room, down the hallway, not stopping but to glance in my room as I pass by-still asleep. Down the stairs my feet took me and into my study. There, I sat down and rotated my chair to look out the window. Crows were gathering and cawing. The parchment upon the table I look at it again and again that emotion surges forth, I push it away.

Muttering to myself, "I am the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord has no feeling. I am the Dark Lord." Instead of dissipating the emotion only seemed to sink deeper within me, like a festering sore it simmered within my core. How long I stay sitting there I do not know, but a knock at the door interrupted my thoughts.

Knock. Knock.

I wait to see who it is, and I am not disappointed.

"Sir?" A pause, a hitch in the breathing, "Sir? Sir are you there?"

Knock. Knock.

Again I don't respond, I stare at the door. "Sir?" Again a pause. "Father?"

And that got my attention. My head snapping up at the word, if any had been there to see, they would have observed Tom Riddle, known as Lord Voldemort, the Dark Lord of the world, mouth drop. Seconds pass before I regain my thoughts and I answer, "What?" Harsher than intended, but that did not matter, I am harsh. I am the Dark Lord.

"May I-May I come in please, sir?"

"Enter." I say and sit back, my demeanor back in place. The door opens and he steps through, the door standing open behind his small form. We stare at one another for a minute or so. "Don't just stand there. Shut the door and sit." Again, harsh, he jumped a bit at the words but did as he was told-I smirked. At least he was obedient… Mostly. I knew there was streak within him that was most rebellious. Slowly he made his away across the room and sitting down on the chair, and stared at me. "You wanted to see me?" I ask, questioning his reason for being here when he should most defiantly be up in bed.

"I-yes." I look at him. He's weird. Or, well not weird, but doesn't act consistent. He cocks his head at me and raises an eyebrow, as if to say, "Well?" but he doesn't say anything. So I dive right in. "I-do you hate me?"

His question caught me off guard and it was completely unexpected. "Why would I hate you?" I answered.

"Because you don't want anything to do with me, all you want to do is be with mum-like I'm a nuisance, or-or something." I say, looking down.

I suppose I deserve the question. And perhaps I'd been less than courteous to the child. Staring at him for a minute I observe his movements. I could tell his legs didn't reach the floor and he was swinging them. He was cold, with goosebumps running up and down his arms, and fidgety. His eyes didn't stay focused in one spot for long, unless he was looking down, and he was hesitant to make eye contact with me. "You feel as though I view you as a nuisance? As something I must put with because I want to be with your mother?" His eyes widen, they don't get glossy like he was going to cry but his breathing changed, whether from sickness or from emotion, I wasn't sure-but I'm sure it was the latter of the two.

"I-yes." I say to him, and look down.

"I see." I look out the window. "I suppose that is a fair sentiment to have, I am not a warm person, and I-" I stop and he looks up at me, eyes not so wide, but still attentive and alert. "I have no experience with children or parents." Unless it is to get what I want. I do have experience in that department.

"I-I know sir. I just want-want you to tell mum the truth, if that's the case. Because she has this idea that we're a family. And we're not. You don't want a family. You don't want…" I stop and start coughing. Thankful for once for the painful hacking that I must endure. When done I look up to see him staring at me. "What?"

"What don't I want?" I had waited patiently for him to finish, but I want him to finish his thought, even if I knew what it was.

"I…" I look at him, his fingers steepled together, his eyes focused intently upon me, like they were digging holes into my head. "I-Well-you don't want me. Just her." I said and sat back and stared at him. Somewhat in disbelief that I had just said what I had I stared at him, breathing heavy.

"Ah… I thought that's what you were going to say." We stare at one another for minutes. He blinks multiple times-I'm not sure I blinked once. "Well, Tom," I start, and he sits up. "It is not that I don't want you, as you say and feel, but rather, I am figuring you out-just as you are me." He nods, but I am unsure if he was nodding out of politeness or of comprehension. "I do though, acknowledge that you are my child, and that you do have my protection." His breath had hitched but I didn't stop. "Which means, sooner or later, you will tell me about this Khristo, because I am most curious about this situation-especially since he writes to you…" As I say this I hold up the parchment and his eyes go wide, mouth drops and then he brings a hand to his forehead.

"Oh man… I forgot about that." Looking up at him and then to the letter and back I ask, "How did you find that?" I thought I'd hidden that, should've burnt it.

"I didn't. Your mother did."

"Oh…" Was all I could say. I sat there looking at him and the letter until he placed it back on his desk. "Um, I'm going to go back upstairs, I don't feel very good."

"That is fine." I respond. He stands and walks to the door. Turning the knob he stops and looks at me for a minute before thinking better of whatever he was going to say and walks out, shutting the door behind him. I hear his footsteps upon the hall floor and then the creaking of his light weight upon the stairs and the upstairs hall. "That was interesting." I mutter to myself, before I too stand and then go upstairs.

Entering my room I see Evangaline sitting up in the bed, the boys head upon her lap. Running her fingers through his hair she looks at me, a small smile upon her face, I frown a bit, why is she smiling? I wonder. "Angel." I say in acknowledgement.

"Tom." I respond. I watch him walk to the bed but turn again, and open a drawer and pull out a tank top and put it on before coming to the bed getting in. I watch him lean his head back against the headboard and close his eyes. Minutes pass before he turns and looks at me.

"You're staring Angel."

I smile. "Yes, I know." His eyes narrow but he doesn't say a word just looks at me and then at Tommy. "Tom?" His response is a glance in my direction. "You know that I love you right?"

What? Do I know? "Are you insecure about something Angel?"

"No… I just want you to know that I love you."

"Pet. I know that you love me." How could she think I didn't know that? I know everything about her. She is mine.

"Oh, okay good." I say and drop my gaze to Tommy.

"I will be going out in the early morning." I say absentmindedly.

"W-What? Why?"

I sigh and glare at her. "Because I must." Was my response and her face contorts a bit.

"Tommy hold yourself up a second, mummy wants to lay down." He does and I move my body so that I'm facing both he and Tom. Staring at him as Tommy's body has shifted too in the bed and I rub his back with my hand as he rests his head the pillow moved by chest. "When will you return?" I say and I see Tom roll his eyes.

"When I have finished." I look at her but it is not enough, I can tell. She had better not cry.

"I suppose that is the only answer I shall receive?" I say to him, my words a bit more biting than I had intended. The truth in my admission is proven at his raised eyebrows.

"Yes. It is. And you will be fine with whatever answer or reason I give you, whenever I give you one, and if I don't, then that is alright too, understood?" My words harsh and my voice grates against the air. Her demeanor changes back to its submissive state and I smirk. I like her submissive, obedient. She's much more pliable that way.

"Yes Tom." I say and lay my head down and rotate my body so that I'm snuggling Tommy as he drifts into sleep.
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Yes Tom	By : Sevy14 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female Views: 1706 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I make no money from this story.

Yes Tom