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Shattered	By : Diamonddancer229 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male Views: 44840 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, I am not making any money from this fiction, or do I intend to try. All rights belong to J.K.Rowlings.

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
Shattered, Chapter 4
By: Diamonddancer229
Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter, and I’m not making money from this fic.

Chapter warnings: Graphic Violence, Adult Language, Sexual Behavior

Chapter 4: The Dark Arts

Packages arrived en masse with a small fleet of top notch tailors the next morning. Harry was confined to Lucius’s suites were he had arisen, because the blonde wanted to make sure Harry was the height of fashion. Harry, never having been one for fashion, was inclined to listen to the man’s advice. Harry liked his new clothes and he rather liked the way they made his new physique look so nice.
When all was said and done, far later after lunch, Harry was the proud owner of a new wardrobe. One fit for a Prince. He had more clothes in his expanded closet than Harry had ever owned in his life, and the basic knowledge of how to piece them together to make an attractive outfit. At the moment Harry was wearing a nice, sinfully fitted pair of dragonhide leather pants, red like blood and from a Chinese Fireball. Feeling rather experimental he forewent a shirt and slipped into a tight red leather vest that was a few shades darker than his pants. He pulled a Muggle looking pair of boots that were thick soled and black, from the bottom of his closet.
Harry left his hair wild, even as he pulled a thick gold chain over his neck. It was Tom’s locket and it had arrived with Harry’s packages this morning. The thick pulse of Voldemort’s magic was gone. Harry wonder if some of Voldemort’s planning had to do with reacquainting the pieces of his soul together. Regardless, the locket was a gift and a reminder from Voldemort. He didn’t care too much that it was a small stake on the Dark Lord’s claim, Harry rather liked it that he had gone from a mere sex slave to someone that people were trying to please and get in favor with.
Harry took a moment to admire his reflection then he pulled his assassin robes on, they looked quite stunning against the red leather of his outfit. He looked quite deadly and he had yet to pick up a weapon or a wand. He blew a kiss at his winking reflection and moved to leave his rooms.
Voldemort was having a meeting in his private study with only his closest of DeathEaters. Harry didn’t bother to knock, Voldemort’s magic opened the door as Harry came to it and shut it briskly behind him. “You are terribly late,” the Dark Lord said without looking up.
Harry was too shocked to say too much to that. The magic in the room had him dazed, it was emanating from his Master. Harry was literally swooning and had to grab the back of the chair in which Severus was sitting. He gasped, tried to draw breathe in, panicked a bit when he couldn’t get his lungs to work properly and remembered suddenly he didn’t actually need to breathe. Harry shut the function down with a thought and stopped trying to suck in air, he likewise shut down the pleasure center in his brain drastically decreasing the intoxicating feeling he had been so drunk with. It was odd to Harry, to feel his body respond to such unusual demands as if he had merely flipped a switch, and it made him feel a bit off but tremendously excited with the prospects of how he could put his discovery to use.
Harry shook his head once, wild lock flying into further disarray. “What the bloody hell is that?”
Lord Voldemort looked up. No, Harry mused with amazement, Tom Riddle was looking at him. Voldemort looked very near to Harry’s age, almost perfectly human, if his eyes hadn’t been the color of fresh blood. Voldemort was devastingly handsome as well, Harry thought he looked like a model from a Muggle underwear billboard. Voldemort’s face was chiseled from alabaster skin and brought to life by the shadows that clung to the sharp planes of his cheeks and jaw. The Dark Lord’s lips were full and glossy, like he’d been worrying them as he leant over the paperwork in front of him at the desk. Harry imagined those lips would be incredibly soft.
Voldemort’s hair was a deep brunette, slightly wavy, but styled neatly back from his head. His clothing were modern, stylish, and surprisingly age appropriate (Harry had figured Lucius could make even the Dark Lord improve upon his wardrobe choices, it was far more tasteful than his old black loose robes.) As impeccable as he looked though, Harry immediately noticed the stress and strain around the much younger face. The Dark Lord looked terribly fatigued.
“What’s going on? Your presence is so much stronger, but you look like you are about to pass out,” Harry blurted moving past the desk and kneeling down. “Not to mention you look like you have had a face lift.”
Voldemort looked briefly puzzled. “Face lift?”
Harry snorted in amusement. “It’s a Muggle surgery that changes a person’s face, generally trying to make them look younger or better. Of course, you have succeeded far better than they could ever hope to. Was it the…?” Harry ran off into silence leaving the question hanging in the air as he glanced at the others.
Voldemort nodded, but did not bother to comment so Harry decided to drop the subject for the time being. “Well, you certainly look like you could use the mother of all Pepper-up Potions.” Harry smirked and hide his face against the man’s lap. “Your magic was stronger when I came in.”
Voldemort patted Harry awkwardly on the head, before his hand settled in his hair. “It is, an unforeseen side effect that I did not realize until I was fully recovered. It is fortunate I had you to bring me the missing pieces I needed.” Voldemort’s hand left his head to finger the locket that had once felt so malevolent and deadly.
Harry enjoyed the coded talk. He was unsure to how much any of the others knew about the Horcruxes. Snape might possibly know from Dumbledore, but if Snape knew he would keep it in perfect confidence, Harry was sure. They were all unknown variables for the moment, but Harry liked to imagine that Voldemort was sharing another confidence, that in that knowledge Harry was especially trusted.
Harry blamed it on the Dursleys never loving him. He chuckled darkly and looked up into Voldemort’s hypnotic red eyes. This man had murdered his parents, Harry thought suddenly, and Voldemort’s eyes flashed in anger, he had seen too because Harry was looking him in the eyes. Harry smiled and pressed a kiss to the inside Voldemort’s wrist. “It hardly matters now, does it?” Harry whispered gums prickling with his close proximity to Voldemort thumping pulse.
The answered seemed to appease Voldemort, and Harry watched the young face soothe back into tiredness. He rose and stepped back, sitting on the plush cushion of the bay window behind Voldemort. He admired the view as the others continued their business, and Harry let his thoughts drift randomly. They were all giving reports on their various tasks and any bits of information that they had gleaned, when a thought crossed his mind.
He waited for a lull in the conversation and then broke in. “I thought the Ministry had already fallen? I thought it fell before Hogwarts, right before actually? You said after the competition though, that it had almost fallen. No, you said they were nearly ours, that’s what you said?”
Voldemort chuckled and peeked at him. “The resistance gathered there after the Battle of Hogwarts when the DeathEaters were drunken with their victory and too busy with their revelry. The Order took it over. A foolish error on my part, I must admit, but who could blame me? I had just captured you after all, and you were a delightful reward. Dumbledore resides there now. How the old fool threw up the amount of wards at the level they are I’ll never know, but it has put him nearly at his deathbed and left him almost a squib I am told.”
“So the Order and Dumbledore live there?” Harry wondered if Ron and Hermoine were there, if they had made it out safe. Voldemort had often tormented Harry by telling him all the cruel ways he could have killed them but that Harry would never know.
“Yes, a lot of the refuge families live there. The ones that didn’t want to compromise with our new policies.” Voldemort gave him a knowing look and smiled like a shark, a disarming look for his youthful face. “Does it matter now? If you were to see them? If I were to order you to kill them?” The questions were venomous and cruel.
“Of course I would rather not, do you want me to lie differently?” Ron was a jealous asshole a good deal of the time but the youngest male Weasley, and Hermoine had stuck by Harry through the worst of his trials until he had been kidnapped. He felt the guilty weight of his betrayal at not destroying the Horcruxes, of giving them directly over and restoring the Dark Lord to his full powers. But Harry didn’t have to die now and that was all he could think of, because of this man, the Dark Lord he could live forever. “I am bound to you,” Harry admitted quietly, rising quickly from his place at the window and walking up behind the man to put his hands on Voldemort’s shoulders.
His face never changed but Harry felt the Dark Lord’s body tighten as if his answer had badly shocked and surprised him. Harry ran his hand over the taut, shivering muscle hidden by layers of clothes. He kneaded his fingers into the cloth and down into the flesh working the man muscles until the seemed a bit soothed. “There is still one piece you are missing, my Lord.” Harry meant it reassuringly.
Voldemort looked up behind his chair and caught Harry’s eye. His gaze darted discreetly to the curse scar on Harry’s forehead. “Yes, just one more, but I think it is safe for now, and it’s only a sliver of my potential anyway.”
Harry laughed and felt oddly pleased, and once again went to recline by the bay window.

It was a while before the inner circle of Voldemort’s DeathEaters finished up with their reports. Harry had tuned much out pondering the swirling, chaotic thoughts in his head. Finally they rose, Lucius all but shoving everyone but Severus from the doorway. The Potion Master stood silently at the fire before giving Harry a speculative look and bowing low to the Dark Lord. He turned and left, robes sweeping dramatically around him.
Lucius bowed low and left Harry alone with Voldemort, of whom was staring at Harry like he could eat him. Tired or not. Harry moved from the window finally, he sat on the edge of Voldemort’s desk dangerously close to the teetering stack of paperwork that had been reviewed or completed. “When do I get to do something?”
Voldemort smirked. “So eager Harry. I have no idea why you ever claimed to be on the Light side, you are terribly dark.”
Harry scowled and puffed his lip out in a fake pout, not that Voldemort appreciated such gestures but Harry hardly had to mind everything the man said now. “I’ve been stuck in this house forever, of course I want to leave and go do something. I am a man of action.”
“Gryffindors and their silly needs to go rushing off to get themselves into some sort of danger,” Voldemort chuckled humorlessly.
Harry scowled fiercely. “I’m not a Gryffindor anymore, I’m a bleeding mesh of monsters, and every one of them is inside me screaming for release of some sort or another. I really need something to do!”
Voldemort was laughing, but it wasn’t altogether too mocking, just a bit amused with Harry. Obviously the man was in good cheer, even though his magical reserves seemed depleted. Harry mused to himself that it would be the perfect time to kill the Dark Lord had Harry been willing to die for the cause, which he sort of wasn’t.
“Don’t worry little monster. I have something coming up for you very soon, but first I will have to hide that Horcrux somewhere a little further inside of you, perhaps at the edge of your own soul, if it is possible. I wouldn’t want Dumbledore to sense it, he may think I am done with you if you are returned with the Horcrux removed. It will make him drop his guard far easier for you. Be patient, my plans for you will take some of the most precise planning I have had to do to date.”
“What will I be doing? Can’t you just give me some sort of hint? Will I have to kill someone?” Harry hated that he sounded quiet so eager but more than a small part of himself was quickly becoming numb to his new reality.
“I want you to infiltrate the Ministry. We are going to stage a fake escape on your part. It will be tricky because I will have to include Severus in the plans and we will have to keep your true nature a closely guarded secret. None of the DeathEaters that know may speak of it, they have all taken an Oath.” Voldemort paused, seemed to gather his thoughts before continuing.
“Severus will become something of your care taker. You are to, under no circumstances, ever let anyone run a medical analysis on you or else your cover will be blown immediately. Severus is designing some rather complicated Potions that will make you appear still human and to also help you control your cravings, but if the Order ever finds out what you have become they will know that I have control over you.”
Harry was secretly thrilled at the prospect of having a chance to pay Dumbledore back for all the misery and suffering the barmy old fool had subjected him to over the years. “How will that work? What if someone sees my back?” Harry had a million questions but the look in Voldemort’s eyes quelled them and they died on his lips.
“It is not for you to worry about these things. I will instruct you in what to do when I have planned everything accordingly. However, if it would make you better knowing it, I am designing a very powerful glamour stone that I will put inside the locket when I am through with it. The stone will hold against threats like Moody’s magical eye, various common and obscure anti-glamour charms and spells. It will not register your glamours when you pass through wards that will detect such glamours. It will take many weeks yet, but I do not want to risk giving you away as a DeathEater, not when there is even the smallest fraction of a chance that Dumbledore will let you into his hiding hole with open arms. He thinks you incorruptible.” Voldemort smirked and gave a quick bark of harsh laughter.
Harry hated that Voldemort’s sentiments were so right. Harry had always thought he would never stoop to this level, never become a monster like this man before him. Voldemort had offered him a place in his army, by his side once. Just like with Draco Harry had refused, and he had learned quite thoroughly being refused pissed a Slytherin and their superiority complex off. Now Harry was the monster’s monster. Everyone was corruptible, Dumbledore was a fool.
“You are a genius, well, more so now that you aren’t obsessed with trying to kill me so much. You were a touch on the loony side then.”
“Perhaps…”Voldemort conceded, which was unusual. “You were beyond a touch irritating though, I could hardly be blamed.”
Harry laughed this time. “So I have been told many, many times before, and I am sure it’s not the last time either.”
“Tell me, what was that you did when you realized you were on the verge of becoming swamped by my magic when you came in?” Voldemort’s natural curiosity made his young face glow, and Harry wondered why Dumbledore choose to be so proactively against Tom Riddle when he had been a mere student under Dumbledore’s tutelage. Harry thought he looked rather handsomely studious and inquisitive.
Harry was confused only momentarily. “Oh, I don’t really know. Somehow I just instinctively knew how to shut certain areas that process certain responses to stimuli down. I don’t really know I just didn’t want to be stuck there like a deer caught in headlights, so my body kind of reacted a bit on its own.”
The Dark Lord looked appeased momentarily. “I should research into that. So many beast put in you though, I wonder which one would give you such precise control over your mental functions.”
“Why? Are you going to try to take it out so I can’t help but be overwhelmed and drooling over you?” Harry was teasing, but Voldemort gave him another of his quelling looks.
“Do not be absurd, Potter. You would be all but useless to me, no better than the sex slave you are so eager to not be, should you becoming so intoxicated by my presence that it produces a catatonic state every time you were in a room with me.”
“Well, you can hardly blame me for asking,” Harry mumbled boldly. Voldemort slapped his cheek lightly, but even that slight aggression had Harry tensed and coiled and growling.
Voldemort smiled with his young face and slapped Harry hard on the other cheek just for his impertinence to growl at him. “Come hither,” Voldemort whispered demandingly, eyes like a freshly spilled wash of blood.
Harry obeyed without question.
Voldemort held his face tightly between his two thin, spidery hands. He held Harry’s face close to his, staring intently. Harry felt embarrassed and very aware of the focused scrutiny, but he held himself still. “Marvelous, and my control of you looks just fine to me,” Voldemort whispered before shoving his face away abruptly. “We should discuss the training regime I have planned for you. If you aren’t willing to be a slave then you will be a studious pupil. I have bestowed you with great gifts, Harry. My knowledge being one of them.”
Harry perked up a bit, Voldemort intended to have him trained? “What kind of knowledge?”
“Why, the Dark Arts Harry. You have a marvelous grasp on two of the Unforgivables, but the Dark Arts extend much, much further than three relatively simple curses. There are other things I wish you to learn, and I have a very skilled tutor in mind.” Voldemort grinned with evil delight.
“Fuck, its Snape isn’t it?”
“Language, Potter,” Voldemort warned but he was still smiling. “That is Professor Snape to you and yes. It’s logical because he is a master Legilimens and Occlumens, and these are two very important skills you are going to need as a spy. I cannot spare the time to teach you these things and I fear I am not patient enough for teaching if I had the time. Severus will be able to instruct you on these things even when you are away.”
“How will I get away if the Order does let me into the Ministry? I am sure they’ll assign guards to me, and maybe Hermoine and Ron will be there. What will I do when I need to hunt or something? Surely a potion isn’t going to fix everything you did to me; and how will I even get information back and forth?”
“Severus, of course. It is unlikely Dumbledore will trust you with much pertinent information that he has not also informed Severus of as well. I just want to integrate you into his plans, that way when the time comes to reveal your true allegiance it will be a crushing blow his schemes. It does not hurt that your defection will greatly decrease their already poor moral.”
Harry paced to the window and looked out over the manor’s plush green lawn. The sun was setting, casting thick shadows amidst the trees lining the edges of the property. Harry could see a small group of deer drinking at the edge of the lake along the southern end of the property. The sight was peaceful but he felt anything but. Something primal stirred in his gut at the site of the deer, at the challenge they would be to catch, and Harry just barely caught the whine coming up his throat.
Voldemort’s hand came down on his shoulder, a heavy weight to anchor him back in the moment. “I am sure you will be resourceful enough to sneak back here regularly enough, judging from your past escapades. I have your Invisibility Cloak too, and the Elder Wand which I will grudgingly admit is rightfully yours, seeing as I cannot use it unless I murder you and take it from you. Which I cannot do obviously.”
“Well, you could,” Harry said realistically. Voldemort’s hand on his shoulder tightened dramatically not that it bothered Harry overmuch.
“Foolish, reckless boy,” the Dark Lord cursed, ruffling Harry’s hair rather affectionately. “I have plenty of power and a wealth of magical artifacts at my disposal, keep your wand. I have something else I wish to gift you with later that will augment your position as my assassin, but that will be much later in the future after we have taken back the Ministry. Now you can keep asking question but that is absolutely the last bit of information you are working out of me. There are a great deal of factors we have not yet figured and you have more important things to worry with. Like the studies we mention.
Along with the mind arts you will be learning Potions, particularly poisons, their antidotes, anti-venoms, basic health and healing potions, pain potions, truth serums, just to name a few. You will have dueling instruction leaning heavily on battling spells, and the offensive counters to some of the nastier Light affinity spells. Lucius will also help you when you are here, he is an excellent duelist. There will also be language coursework, I expect you to fully grasp Latin, but also some of the more arcane languages. Narcissa will be good for that. Then some physical training in combat, martial arts and knife work, should you have to resort to such things, and everyone does at some time or other in the heat of battle.”
Voldemort’s long-winded list finally came to a stop and Harry wonder how he was going to master even part of the mention things let alone everything. He glanced at Voldemort behind him and was again startled to see the younger face, and the Dark Lord was barely taller than Harry this young. Red eyes stared back at him. “I’ll try.”
“No Harry, you will succeed. It is in your nature to succeed. No matter what it is that life throws your way you always succeed magnificently, do you not?”
“If that is what you call it, my Lord,” Harry grunted. He was alive he supposed, at least sort of. That had to count for something.
Voldemort laughed and his other hand fell down on Harry’s free shoulder. The Dark Lord leaned into him from behind. “You wouldn’t want me to believe you do not appreciate my gifts, would you now Harry?” he whispered softly, menacingly, against the tender shell of Harry’s ear.
“Oh no,” Harry murmured and turned away from the window into the warm shell of the Dark Lord’s arms. “Never,” Harry growled and nipped the sharp teenaged chin in front of him.
“Kiss me, Harry,” the Dark Lord sighed against his lips, and Harry had never heard such depth of need from the man, Harry’s studies truly forgotten for the moment.
He pressed his lips gently to the man’s mouth, and randomly thought Voldemort’s mouth was exactly the same though his face had been drastically altered. Harry’s tongue peeked out from between his extended, aroused fangs. Harry pressed it against the seam of Voldemort’s mouth and beckoned the man to open to him. Harry summoned just a bit of sexual energy, sex magic probably from the incubus or vampire, and sealed his body tightly against Voldemort in one violent movement.
Voldemort gasped and his lips parted allowing Harry entrance even as the man slid his tongue alongside Harry’s and into Harry’s mouth. The tasted each other leisurely, pulling groans and sighs from each other until Voldemort whirled on Harry, and suddenly Harry was being pressed back into the desk that had been behind them.
Voldemort paused, panting into the small space between them as he rubbed his hips in teasing circles against Harry’s. “Merlin, you wretched boy…”
Harry was unsure why he was being cursed that moment but he leaned forward as he levered himself back up towards the man’s mouth using a handful of the starched white shirt in front of him. Harry bit at the reddening mouth in front of him. He felt a spike of lust as he ran his hands over the skin he was fast exposing as he pulled the shirt from Voldemort’s pressed pants. “Merlin back to you, you wretched man,” Harry panted accidentally tearing a strip of shirt in his haste.
They kissed frantically, and Harry called a bit more magic into himself and pushed it along into the Dark Lord. It seemed to being doing the man a great deal of good, but then again it could have just been the flush of arousal bringing color and life to his youthful cheeks. Voldemort groaned hotly against Harry’s neck, and bit into the tender flesh there. Harry couldn’t contain the hoarse shout that echoed up from him. His neck was incredibly tender now since the change, it seemed. Voldemort took advantage of the fact mercilessly.
“Harry,” the man whispered against his lips, hips still and hard against Harry.
“Yes, my Lord?”
“Call me Tom,” the man demanded suddenly, and his hands were tearing at Harry’s clothing, mindful not to rip anything perhaps because it was new.
Harry gasped when a cool hand grasped his hot, throbbing member suddenly and his mouth was once again assaulted. Voldemort pulled away and Harry felt breathless for a moment. “Say it,” Voldemort demanded again.
“Tom,” Harry breathed hoarsely. His belly was hot and tight with arousal and a small bit of confusion.
Voldemort’s, or Tom’s as he was wanting to be referred to as at the moment, eyelids fluttered shut and he groaned, hips snapping forward sharply into Harry’s. Tom tore at his mouth, nipping and drawing blood. Harry wondered briefly if his blood was as poisonous and as toxic as most of the Dark creatures he had been inoculated with, and if Tom was immune to it as he seemed to be with most everything else.
“Say it again,” Tom begged hands pressed tightly around Harry’s throat suddenly.
“Tom…” Harry moaned. His hands were scrambling along the desk seeking purchase as he fought his own nature, fought the need to flip them over and take the man above him savagely, as savagely as it looked like the Dark Lord may have been getting ready to take him. He could have pushed him over easily. Physically the Dark Lord was not a match for him, at least he did not think he was. Mentally was another thing, and Harry couldn’t deny there was an unseen force that stilled his impulses to take command of the situation and let Tom rain pleased kisses against his face. “Tom,” he croaked again, moaning when Tom pressed little kisses against his eyes and against the hollow dip of Harry throat. He gathered another shot of magic and gifted it to his Master.
This time Harry knew it wasn’t his imagination, the magic really was helping Tom out, the shadows underneath his eyes and the hollowness in his cheeks evening out and plumping up with vibrant youth. Tom was grinning from above Harry. “I feel that you clever little boy. See, like I said, always resourceful. You have powers you aren’t even aware of and yet you call on them and bend them to your will when you need them. Your magic is fluid, Harry, like the water in a stream bending around a rock to meet back up behind it. Vampires and Incubi have strong roots in sex magic. They can both call and send the magic through others.”
Tom plunged back into Harry’s mouth suddenly and Harry felt the man-boy slip his tongue along one of Harry’s sensitive fangs, deliberately pricking his tongue deeply. Harry was surprised by the thick, warm spurt of it against his tongue. Harry growled and his whole body rolled against Tom against his will.
The Dark Lord’s magic was greatly increased with the restoration of almost the entirety of his soul, and as such his blood was that much more potent. Harry was unprepared for the fierce thirst that lanced through him. He sank his claws into Tom drawing blood were his nails bit through cloth. “Tom…” he rasped in a deep, throaty voice that Harry didn’t recognize as his own. The Dark Lord shuddered against him, and his hands tightened until Harry had no choice but to stop breathing. The sensation was at once disturbing and electrifying.
Harry struggled because he knew it would please Tom. He struggled and whimpered, and he begged. He breathed the Dark Lord’s true name into the man’s ear with needy little breathes of air. He arched his back and yelled hoarsely, pleased beyond measure when Tom vanished their clothes and plunged into Harry’s body without warning or preparation, not that Harry ever got much preparation.
Their need was great and raw and it never mattered to Tom that they toppled the teetering stack of files that the man had been working on all afternoon. It didn’t matter when Tom flipped Harry onto his belly and Harry left needy little claw marks gouged into the deep mahogany wood of the very expensive desk. Nothing matter at all to either one of them, just the deep physical connection they were making in the moment, and the tiny little gasps Harry kept making through the pleasure. “Tom…”

TBC…
Special thanks to veritykindle from AoOO for catching a fatal flaw in these first few chapters! I appreciate that you told me and I was able to change it and make my story more correct and better written, so thanks very much. I also want to say thank you for all the support you have been giving this story, it has been getting an extremely good response and I am thrilled people are liking it that much. Thank you all for reading! I am off to write some more, till next time.
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