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Harry Potter and the Slytherin Heirs	By : SilverAngel621 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male Views: 9448 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I make nothing from this fic.

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
- 4
Also a wonderful reader who is as much of a Drarry shipper as me is going to do some fics/drabbles that place in this alternative universe. (Drarry is actually my OTP, not Harrymort lol) They are not plot complaint to Harry Potter and the Slytherin Heirs but they use the character history from this story. Check out her works what ifs by Ykmust, she is such an amazing and talented writer and I swear some of the stories will having you on the floor in stitches. It's definitely lighter and fluffier and more fun to kind of offset how angsty this fic is. And for those of you Drarry shippers, she's gonna have that in loads :)
HPSH drabbles what ifs by Ykmust
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Chapter 3
A dying fire tried feebly to light the great and cavernous rooms. Filled with the worlds greatest and darkest artifacts and books older than Hogwarts, the dark library was the perfect backdrop to the brooding man sitting at his throne like chair. With a decanter of Dragon's Blood vodka imported from Russia, Tom tried to drown himself in the libation.
In the otherwise silent room, the fire crackled loudly as it waned throughout the night. The dark wizard stared into nothing as it finally died away and he was left with the haunting words of his slave echoing incessantly inside his head. He'd tried everything to silence those words. Torturing his captives and then the few Death Eaters who’d managed to piss him off hadn’t even taken the edge off.
After the mirror exploded into dust, the backlash of the powerful spell had caught Harry off guard. Tom had just stood stupefied as he'd watched a part of the mirror's metal frame stabbing into his consort’s stomach. Harry hadn't been hurt by his hands since Hadrian's birth. Only the oroborus collar around Harrys neck that both ensured his captivity and his safety, the latter unbeknownst to Harry, kept the boy safe from death via the stab wound. As Harry lay gasping for breath, an anguished look of surprise stamped on his face, the collar had lashed out at him to keep all potential threats at bay and called for the house elves to take Harry away.
Only then had Tom been forced to calm himself. Kneeling amidst the glittering dust of glass, he'd panted out his anger. But the beast lay too close to the surface and he'd ended up destroying the entire dungeon until it was little more than mortar and brick; stained with his black magic and Harry's pure blood.
He'd called a late night meeting with his Death Eaters and turned his beast onto them. He'd ordered his captives to be brought to him- a few foreign dignitaries that didn't agree with him, families that had gone against him, some princes, aurors, stray members of the ever present Order of the Phoenix- and killed about half. His most loyal and faithful inner circle watched with growing dread. Never had they seen him as unhinged as this since the assassination attempt on Salazar when the boy was merely seven. With the unification of most of Tom's horcruxes into his body, the Death Eaters had gotten used to the more sane, albeit still cruel, man.
Severus had even braved torture to ask if there was anything he could do, while Lucius cowered just behind the dark haired man. Tom had used the crucio on the both of them.
But even over their screams, he heard those terrible words. Not just the words themselves, but the words coming from Harry specifically was crippling. Here the Dark Lord thought himself untouchable, immortal. And yet, one slip of a boy forced him to face his greatest weakness.
Now, in the silence of the library, lit only by a sliver of a moon that dared to peek out on such a tragic night, the mirror's words slithered inside of Tom's head with the power to incite an insidious hope.
He took another sip of his vodka. Was it his six or seventh glass? He made a note to inform Nott to procure him some more. Harry insisted on shopping for groceries the muggle way. He kept the kitchen and the bar in his study, receiving room, and dining room, full with his favorite foods and drinks, but Dragon's Blood was still an illegal contraband in the wizarding UK. Relations were still hostile with wizarding Russia; the fools refused to come under his power while falsely postulating about their nonexistent progress into transformational magic. He would crush them once he finished his business with China and then he could stock his home full of all the bloody Dragons Blood vodka as he damned pleased. And without having to have his death eaters sneak the stuff in.
“Tom?” The soft voice broke the litany of words torturing him. Tom smiled in pained amusement. Who knew the very source of his personal torture would be the solution to said torture?
He looked over to see a perfectly healthy Harry standing ten feet away from him wearing a thin, silky robe. His beautiful face shone like a blazing lodestar to his light starved soul, still so youthful and full of life after so many years. Perhaps if he reached out with his fingers, Harry would not burn him.
“Why aren't you in bed?” Tom asked with a sardonic drawl.
Green eyes flashed angrily at him. Tom was too mesmerized by the deep color to notice that Harry had marched right up to him and slapped him hard across the face. Tom blinked. It took a second for pain to register, having not felt that particular sensation in a very long time. As a boy, he'd been mired in pain. It was more familiar to him than a loving touch. He moved his jaw slowly and stood up from his chair. Harry stood his ground firmly, but his hands were clenched at his sides and his entire body was trembling. But not in fear, never in fear.
No matter the torture, Harry never cowered from him in fear. Perhaps in pain, or exhaustion, or anguish, but never fear. He'd always hated and admired that about Harry.
Harry took a step closer until the fabric of his black robe brushed against Tom's shirt and trousers. There were still bits of blood and clumps of torn flesh staining his white shirt. Tom was sure he smelled of blood, gore, and filth, yet here Harry stood smelling like lemongrass and parchment and still drying ink. The sudden urge to dirty his slave, to cover him in blood as Tom covered his own body with Harry's blood, suddenly overtook him. He wanted to fuck the boy- no clothes, no magic, just Harry and him. No lube, just sweat, blood and saliva coating his cock as he shoved it into the boy and let the pounding of his heart overpower any other sounds or words.
“You bloody ass! Don’t you ever dare do that to me again! Do you hear me?” Harry slapped both hands against Tom's chest, but the dark wizard stood like a statue in front of the raging boy. “It may not mean anything to you, but I am a parent. A parent! To your children! They know nothing about us and I want to keep it that way! You had your chance to kill me, you coward! But not now, I will never leave my children alone with you!” Harry hissed. Out of nowhere Harry whipped out a small and clear spherical object.
“I may not be the true boy who was prophesied to kill you, but I can cripple you enough until Neville can.”
Before Tom could get in a word otherwise, Harry chanted an unknown spell. His eyes went wide as he was forced to his knees, his large body dropping heavily. He felt the air contract around him, even as he saw the sphere lifted from Harry’s fingers and expand into a shimmering bubble, encasing his body. The gossamer layers knitted together until there was an entire bubblegum surrounding him. The invisible band constricting his lungs dissipated and he inhaled large, choking gasps of air into his deprived lungs.
“What the hell was that?” Tom gasped out, furious for an all together different reason.
Harry stood tall and unflinchingly above him. “That, Lord Tom, was a spell your son Hadrian crafted not shortly after you tried to Murder. Your. Own. Son!,” Harry hissed, his tongue slipping into parseltongue. Usually, when Harry used his title and spoke in parseltongue, Tom knew the boy was at his maximum level of rage.
“Hadrian helped me master it not too long ago. Don't even bother using your own magic.” Harry snorted when Tom tried to use his elder wand against the bubble. It shot a stinging pain into his wand arm until he was forced to drop it. He shook out his hand, glaring at Harry the entire time.
“It uses your magic to create the barrier, so it stays as strong for as long as you stay strong.”
“Harry, take it off. Now!” Tom banged his fists against the barrier. It felt like cool glass underneath his fists. It didn’t even falter under his dark aura. Feeling along with his fingertips, Tom felt his son’s unique magical signature, mixed with Harry's, strong and pulsing. But the essence of the makeshift cage was all his magic, as dark as a black hole and just as dangerous. He should have known that brat was capable of such magic, seeing as he himself had taken over tutoring Hadrian when he showed much more magical potential than all his other siblings. It was enough to rival Voldermort's own magical abilities. Then it had been a point of pride. Now, that the brat was using it against his own damn father, it was going to be point of contention. Tom was going to hex that boy the minute he got free.
Harry lifted his chin stubbornly. “I can leave you here, incapacitated indefinitely until I find Neville and bring him here to kill you. Or even go to the order and get a dementor here to give you the kiss. That way, you'll be alive in body and you won't be able to come back in another body and interfere with me living my life with my children.”
Tom sneered, his eyes flashing red. How dare Harry threaten him?! “Then why don't you do that, little slave?”
Gracefully falling to his knees in front of Tom, Harry looked him straight in the eye. But what Tom saw there confused him. Hurt and anger swirled in those emerald orbs, glittering with unshed tears. A watery laugh resounded inside the quiet library. “Because at the end of the day, you are the father to my wonderful children. They are the greatest gifts you have given me, my greatest joy. And I lo-“ Harry faltered and blinked. Finally, twin drops slipped from his sooty lashes and ran down his cheeks simultaneously.
Harry gulped and continued doggedly. “I love them. I would never hurt them for anything. So I am not going to kill you, but neither will I let myself be killed by you. I foolishly thought you could never kill me, at first because I was your horcrux, and second because I gave you our children. I know you care for them deeply.” Harry looked at him as if in question.
Feeling almost insulted, Tom gave him a curt nod. Though he may not show it, he cherished his children. In them he saw the second chance he never got, a way to relive and correct his childhood.
“You know I made a vow to never raise my wand towards you. I wanted the same vow from you, but until now I did not have the means to force your hand. So, you're going to make that vow to me now, that you'll never use your wand against me for anything. Then I will release the barrier.” Harry lifted up his hands, placing them over Tom's. The barrier separated them from feeling each other's warmth.
When Tom said nothing, Harry curled his fists and hit at the barrier softly in frustration. “Tom, please!” he pleaded. “I’m not doing this to control you. I’m doing this for our family. They would never forgive you if you killed me.” Harry broke down in sobs, leaning his forehead against the cool barrier.
The lovers leaned against the barrier, both quiet for a while. The flames of anger slowly simmered down to barely smoke and ash as Tom took deep calming breaths and just drank in the sight of Harry. The younger wizard had dark circles under his eyes. He looked leaner than he should be, considering he had just given birth. Tom made a note to inform Severus to make some nutrient potions and have the house elves make a high nutrient and carb diet for Harry.
“What about you?” Tom said after a while, breaking the silence.
Harry pulled back so that he could look at Tom’s face. He tilted his head in bemusement. “What?”
“What about you, little Harry? You worry about the children’s reaction to your death, but what about you? Don’t you want to live for yourself?”
Harry blinked in confusion as if he’d never even given that a thought. “I-I-“ Harry pulled his hands away and played them across his lap. “They’re all that matters. My life ended that night in the graveyard,” he finally said in hushed tones.
Always so selfless, this boy. Tom remembered the grief the boy had been drowning in the first year after his capture at the graveyard. Harry had explained tonelessly how he’d wanted to share his win with Cedric, despite Harry having to go back and save Cedric. And because of his actions, Cedric had been killed. Of course, Harry had been angry Tom had killed Cedric but he’d blamed himself more for Cedric’s death. And throughout the years Tom had seen that same –annoying- selflessness over and over again. First sacrificing his free will for the safety of his friends, then his entire dreams and hopes for his children. It was something Tom couldn't understand. Harry always gave, expecting nothing back. Tom took the kings share of everything Harry had to give, becoming akin to a jealous dragon hoarding it's treasure of gold against others. With the exception of his younger children, he hated even the little bits Harry gave to his friends and his so called family that had long ago abandoned him. Once the Order had hailed him as their hero, their prophesied defeat or of the Dark Lord and now they denounced him as the Slytherin Slut, the Dark Lords puppet. A traitor.
“The collar, it won’t allow me to kill you. It won’t allow anyone to kill you,” Tom explained so quietly Harry almost didn't hear.
He’d enacted that particular charm after a few of his enemies had tried to kill Harry when the wizard was twenty-three. He hadn’t seen reason to tell Harry that though, figuring it was one less thing the boy could hold over his head. He had already made so many allowances for the boy, and he couldn't be seen as weak. And for sure, Harry was a weakness. If his enemies thought they could hurt him by attacking Harry, then Harry was a weakness Tom needed to hide at all costs.
“I-d-don’t-un-understand.” Harry stuttered haltingly. “what do you mean? How long?”
“Since that assassination attempt by the Russians.”
Harry frowned at him in suspicion. “And you can't kill me either?”
Tom shook his head.
“Oh!” Harry exclaimed quietly. “Well, thank you I suppose. But then again, it is smart to keep me alive. I am housing your horcrux, so killing me would kill a part of you. I probably should have suspected,” his tone laden with jaded pessimism. Harry muttered a few words and the sphere started to slowly melt away into smoke. It all congealed between them to form the clear ball again.
Harry didn't notice Tom's red rimmed eyes. He hadn’t actually thought of Harry as his horcrux when he’d put that powerful charm on the collar. But he couldn't tell Harry that. However, he was mad at himself now because the safety of his horcrux should be his primary concern, not Harry for whatever reason.
When Tom reached for the clear ball, Harry didn’t stop him. Tom turned it over in his hands before slipping it inside his trouser pockets. He had every intention of studying it later. How his son even made such thing was concerning.
“You do know Hadrian has more, right?” Harry had a small smirk on his face. Tom was annoyed that he found it funny that their own son had managed to outsmart him.
“Stay still.” Harry looked up curiously but Tom didn’t want to explain himself. He reached out his hands and encircled Harry’s slender, white throat. He jerked but otherwise stayed still under Tom's hands. The boys pulse fluttered like small butterfly wings against his calloused thumbs. Closing his eyes, and concentrating all his magic, Tom chanted out an old spell he’d found in the books of Morgana le Fey, a book he’d found in his extensive travels thought to be a myth. He felt Harry's nervous gulp as the boy's throat muscles worked under the sudden warmth of the spell. A slight golden glow emanated from the collar, the metal almost melting to liquid before solidifying again as the glow disappeared.
“What did you do?”
But instead of answering him, Tom leaned forward and captured those magenta hued lips. They were soft and wet with tears under his touch, and when he slipped his tongue in, Harry was deliciously warm and welcoming. Where the vodka had done nothing to warm him, one touch from Harry lit a blazing fire that rapidly melted all the ice in his veins.
Harry whimpered under his gentle assault. Tom slid his hands from Harry's neck, to the collar of his robes; his fingers latching onto the fabric as he slid his hands across Harry's shoulders and down his arms. The fabric slid sinuously against his goose pimpled skin. Tom didn’t stop until the fabric revealed Harry's peachy pink skin to his ravenous gaze. He flung the offending fabric away, Harry's eyes snapping open at the sudden movement.
He pulled away violently, his legs curling up over his growing arousal and his arms going around his chest in a belated attempt at modesty. Tom smirked. He liked it when Harry played the shy, affronted virgin.
“That was a new spell, it prevents me from hurting you.”
“Why would you do that?” Harry blurted out, clearly surprised. Tom prowled closer to Harry, looking very much like a black panther. But he was much more dangerous than a mere animal. He slid his hands up Harry's bare torso, still soft from childbirth.
“Why look a gift horse in the mouth, do you want to be hurt by me?” The dark wizard slid his hands higher from Harry's waist and flicked Harry's pebbled nipple with his nail.
Harry whined and bit his lip. He was blushing when he shook his head no.
“Good.”
Without further ado, he lunged forward, toppling the boy onto his back. Tom crouched like a predator above his prey. He captured his slave’s lips in another kiss, this one much more violent than its predecessor. He was angry that Harry dared question his motives. He was giving the boy something he'd never even think to give to anyone else, not even his children. Did Harry not realize the amount of power he now had over him?
So Tom put all his anger and frustration and confusion and kissed his lover. He bit at Harry's lips, drawing blood before laving the red liquid away with his tongue.
“Let me amend that,” he whispered against Harry's kiss-bruised lips. “I can still hurt, just not my magic.” His lips swallowed Harry’s embarrassed, “Oh!” his tongue bullying his way past Harry's lips.
His hands did not remain idle. One slipped up and thumbed at Harry's neglected nipple, thumbing it to a hard and aching point. The other slid down Harry's hips, fingers pressing hard into the boy’s supple skin. It slid over Harry’s thigh and leg before his fingers curled around Harry's calves and pulled the long appendage to curl around his waist. Harry's other leg followed without needing Tom's directive.
“Did you miss me?” Tom taunted, thrusting his clothed dick over Harry’s growing hardness. Still, after all these years, the boy could harden within seconds. He still possessed the quick refractory period of a teenager too.
Though Harry was in his mid forties, he still looked like he was in his early twenties. It was in part thanks to a wizards longer life span, but also Tom's magic. He’d switched around with how old Harry looked in the past years, but finally settled on Harry's current looks when he’d figured out his preferences. He had thoroughly enjoyed the young teenage Harry and his nubile body. It was equally as appealing as Harry's older body with the scars and stretch marks of his childbirths, his limbs slightly padded with lingering fat from pregnancy. And this body now, a mix between the mature Harry and the young Harry, was absolutely intoxicating.
The skin was smooth and velvet soft under his lips as Tom made his way across Harry's cheek and down his sharp jaw to his straining neck. His lips slid over cool metal before moving down Harry's clavicle, his lips latching onto a collar bone.
“Tom, wait, I'm not…I don't want this…”
Tom bared his teeth and bit around the bone, his tongue heavy on the thin skin stretched over the fragile bone. He sucked hard, wanting to leave a mark of his possession on Harry. Harry breathed hard, his breath hitching at the slight pain. The boy's slim fingers slid into Tom’s chocolate brown curls, laying passively against his skill. Tom knew by experience those fingers wouldn't tighten in his hair until Harry was lost in a mindless haze of pleasure.
Sliding done further, Tom’s lips joined the fingers rolling Harry's nipple. He spread his mouth wide and sucked. Harry grunted hard and arched off the carpet. He was still very sensitive since he was breastfeeding. His fingers clutched at Tom's hair and pulled beseechingly.
Tom shook his head to dislodge the fingers, but looked up nonetheless. He looked wild, his perfect hair in disarray and his black pupils completely obliterating the deep blue of his eyes.
“Tom…” Harry's voice came out wispy in the quiet room. “Stop. I want you to stop.”
Tom ignored him and went back to his feast. His lips dipped over Harry's flat abdomen, then lingered at the adorable little pouch at his lower stomach, his tongue licking up the salt like ambrosia.
“So delicious,” he murmured against Harry's skin. He slid down further, mouthing at the slight 'v' of Harry's hips, his chest brushing Harry's leaking cock. Hot precum smeared against Tom’s still clothed chest. With an annoyed grunt, he spelled away his clothes to be better able to feel Harry. The boy's hips lifted involuntarily into Tom’s touch.
Tom chuckled low and dark. “So wanton.” The boy whined in protest and tried to move away from him. Tom's harsh hands kept his slave anchored right where he was, right where Tom wanted him.
He followed the dip of Harry's hip until his hot and moist breath ghosted over the base of Harry's cock. He ran his hand along the length, wanting to tease the boy into a mess of desire.
“No, Tom I said stop!” The boys voice gained volume as he tried one more time to buck the larger man off of him. With an impatient growl and in no mood for further resistance, Tom reached for his ever present wand.
“Tempus dilecto.” Harry's eyes temporarily went wide in horror before instantly becoming clouded with desire. It was one of the old spells he hadn't heard in a while. It had been a particular favorite of Tom’s in the beginning, making Harry mindless with desire with the flick of the wand. Tom remembered bringing up the memories of Harry's wanton behavior in a pensive for Harry to look at.
He looked down in triumph at the boy. He couldn't have what he'd seen in the mirror but he'd have this for the rest of his endless life. Harry desiring him and him only. Reaching for him with desperate arms and calling out to only him.
“…please, Tom, please. It's been so long…” Ah, how those pleas soothed over the rabid beast inside him, so much like a sirens call. Screams of pain were easy to pull out of the boy, but these…these gems of Harry's pleas for pleasure, pleasure only given by him were intoxicating.
Tom laid the boy flat and drove straight towards the boys beacon of desire. He licked along the shaft, licking up the dripping precum like a man starved. He didn’t let one drop go to waste. Tom placed one last kiss along Harry's shaft then moved along to his tight balls. Harry jerked into a half seated position before crumpling to the floor again when Tom took one of those beautiful jewels into his mouth. Tom sucked softly, knowing how sensitive Harry was at this point. But it didn’t last long. Harry's fingers urged Tom’s head to go lower. When he looked up, the boy had his eyes squeezed shut, but his hands were sure as they guided Tom lower until he’d reached that winking, pink rosebud he was so obsessed with.
Impatient, Tom dove in with barely leashed control. He laved and licked at the tightly puckered hole. After months of disuse it was virgin tight, but Tom was determined. The furled muscles opened like a blooming flower under his tongue. He poked his tongue inside, goaded on by Harry's escalating cries. Soon, fingers joined his probing tongue until he had four fingers curling inside the boy, his fingers teasingly nudging against Harry's prostate. The boy undulated beneath him; Tom had to hold Harry's hips to the ground to keep the boy from bucking him off.
“Tom- Tom! I’m close, gonna cum!” Harry moaned out, already lost to the pleasure of the Dark Lord’s touch.
No! Harry would not cum until Tom was pulsing and hard inside of him. Tom surged up and caught Harry’s next moan inside his mouth. He swallowed the sound, taking Harry's very breath. He wanted to utterly consume the frustrating boy. Harry moaned as his own musky flavor exploded inside his mouth, the kiss messy, wet and so very dirty. But the boy didn’t mind. Tom licked further into Harry's hot cavern, invading it like a foreign conqueror.
His hands spread Harry's legs until they lay flat and bent on the carpeted floor. Tom lodged his hard, long length against Harry's wet opening, the purple head catching onto its rim. His head lurched sideways to breathe and Tom buried his head in the crook of Harry's sweaty neck. He bit down against the pristine and unmarked skin at the exact moment he thrust forward into Harry's warmth. The boy screamed out, Tom’s cock only going in about half way.
Tom grunted, thrusting his hips in small movements and, with a glorious slide, he’d slid himself entirely into Harry’s tense body. He took a few seconds to bask in the scorching heat; the pulsing muscles fluttering and squeezing him deliciously.
He started moving only when Harry relaxed. He lay docile with his hand curved over Tom’s shoulder, with the other resting lightly against his nape. Tom leaned in a bit and bit on Harry's ear lobe as he set a hard and pounding rhythm. He pulled away and looked into Harry's hazy eyes, the green of them aqueous with bated desire. He wanted Harry to cum with him.
So with his free hand, he reached between them and clutched at Harry's semi hard cock. Quick movements of his wrist had the boy fully hard and panting. A few hard pumps, a quick twist of the wrist, and both of them exploded into a mind numbing orgasm. Harry's cum spurted out onto his stomach. Tom came in a scalding hot burst, quickly filling Harry up to the brim. He fucked into Harry through his orgasm, the excess semen oozing out then being thrust back in with Tom's every movement.
When he finished, Harry's arms urged him closer until Tom was forced to lay his entire body on top of the boy. Harry struggled under his heavy weight but made no protest.
“Mine,” Tom whispered, just as Harry’s eyes fluttered open in clarity.
“Get. Off. Now!” Harry thrashed wildly under him, and Tom, still coming down from the high of his orgasm let him go. “I hope that was memorable, Lord Voldemort, because that will be the last in a long while!”
On his knees and hands, Tom panted above Harry with hooded, dark eyes. “Your cock was as hard as mine before the spell. Why the hell should I have stopped?”
A humorless laugh followed Tom’s blunt declaration. “Because I asked, Tom!” Harry's voice was unnaturally loud in the quiet room. He sat up and curled his legs over his privates, forcing Tom to crawl back a few feet. But he didn't go far, his muscles tense and ready to pounce on the boy at any minute.
“Have you ever asked me to take me to bed? No? How surprising.” Harry mocked. “You almost killed me a few hours ago and you expect me to fall at your feet with my thighs spread for you. You destroyed the one thing tonight that gave me happiness but do you see me ranting like a small child? No! But, you, you just need to point your wand and you get everything you want, regardless if that might hurt others. Hurt me! How much more selfish can you get?!”
“That mirror was happiness to you?” Tom growled incredulously, his eyes completely bleeding into red and glowing dangerously. “You spend hours in front of it crying. Crying and neglecting the children you were so ready to give your life for just a few minutes ago.” He mocked with a vicious sneer.
Harry's shoulders stiffened at the mention of his children. His teeth gashed together. “Don't. You. Ever. Accuse me of neglecting my children. My children!” Harry, in his anger instinct it accioed his robes to his hands wand less. Neither of them noticed. “Unlike your mother, I'd never neglect them for a hopeless dream. And how ironic that you are exactly the same as the woman you despise. How different are you spelling my arousal when she forced your father's love with a potion?”
Baring his teeth, he hissed in parseltongue. It was one trait he and Harry shared, slipping into the serpents tongue when at their breaking point. “That muggle was not my father! He was nothing! And never mention that whore to me again!”
Harry visibly shrank back in the face of his anger, finally. Nevertheless he lifted his chin defiantly. “Don't you dare touch me again or I will use Hadrian’s spell again and this time I won't let you out.” Harry shrugged in the robes and limped to his feet, wincing as he pulled a muscle.
Heedless of his nudity, Tom stalked forward. “Before you go around tossing any more threats at me, pet, remember who I am. I am the greatest dark lord in history, I am your master. And a good slave knows their place…right under the masters boot.”
Angry green eyes met red. “A good slave also knows their master’s weakness. And you're weakness is that you'll always be that scared, unloved little boy no matter how many people get on their knees for you.” With that last parting shot, Harry turned his back to him and slammed out of the room. The boy was limping heavily and would be for a few days. It was a small and insignificant victory in the light of their fight.
Tom's frustrated screams rang loud inside the room. This was not how he'd seen the night going. That bloody mirror! Thank Merlin it was destroyed. He'd soon forget the blasted mirror even existed, as would Harry. It was weak of him to let it go on for so long. He knew Harry saw his escape from Tom in the mirror and it only gave false hope. Tom would never let go of Harry. It gave the boy the backbone to fight aback against him. No more. As a dark lord he would not tolerate such blatant disregard.
He looked out the window to see the first rays of sunlight slipping over the horizon. Casting a cleansing charm over him, he dressed in his discarded robes. He’d neglected work for too long in his misplaced worry for Harry. There was much to be seen too. Before he left, he left a note to the house elves to clean up the mess in the dungeons and met with the night shift of death eaters just because his fingers were itching to through out a few spells. If he couldn't take it out on the source of his frustrations, then he'd just use what-or rather who- was left available to him.
He flooed to the ministry, determined to forget the last twenty four hours.
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As the Riddle household slowly began to bustle to wakefulness, the house elves going about making breakfast and seeing to their daily duties, the day shift death eaters popping up to relieve the night shift, none payed attention to the cloaked figure that sneaked in through the long forgotten tunnels and went into the the destroyed chambers. Before the house elves could come to fix up the rubble, the mysterious figure swept up as much of the white dust as possible into a clear vial before sneaking back through the tunnels, as quiet and unnoticed as the rats in the gutter.
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HPSH drabbles what ifs by Ykmust
In same AU with same character backgrounds, non plot complaint
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Harry Potter and the Slytherin Heirs