Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Masculum Graviditate	By : ChibiAyane Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Voldemort Views: 62391 -:- Recommendations : 6 -:- Currently Reading : 17
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or its characters. This work of fiction is for fun only, not for profit.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
"Speech."
'Thoughts.'
"~Parseltongue.~"
Spells and potions.
+Chapter 6: Captivity+
--Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, somewhere in Northern Scotland. Friday 1 March 1996, 05:45 a.m.--
The Headmaster's office was filled to the brim with people, but it was silent. Dumbledore sat in his desk chair looking grim, but confused and thoughtful at the same time. All the Order Members who had been at the Ministry were standing about the room, trying to think of what to do next. Sirius stood off to the side, his eyes red from crying and his fists clenched tightly in anger and worry. Remus stood beside him, trying to comfort his old friend. Harry's friends were sitting in chairs in front of the Headmaster's desk and on the sofa in front of the fire. They'd already told the Order everything they knew about why they were at the Ministry in the first place. The only person who seemed completely unimpressed with what was going on was Snape.
"Severus," Dumbledore said, turning to the dour Potions Master. Snape turned his full attention to the Headmaster. "I need you to do a bit of snooping. I need to know why Voldemort took Harry and what he plans to do with him. He said he wasn't planning to kill him, and I am quite perplexed by that. I can't think of any reason for him to want to keep Harry alive, other than to try and turn him to his side. But I think he knows that will never happen, Harry would never turn his back on those who love him. He used that very loyalty Harry has to his friends and loved ones to lure him to the Ministry, so he must know that he won't be able to change his mind. See what you can find out." Snape simply nodded and turned to leave. "And I need to know why he saw fit to take Miss Lovegood, as well." Snape paused and nodded again.
"Snape," Sirius said before the man could leave. "Please? He's my godson, he's all I have. Please find some way to bring him back." Snape stared at him for a long moment, his expression blank. He seemed to come to some decision a minute later, and the Potions professor gave an almost imperceptible nod and left in a billow of black.
Hermione looked around, biting her lip, looking like she wanted to say something. "Sir?" she finally asked, addressing Dumbledore.
"Yes, Miss Granger?"
"I think I know why he took Luna," she said quietly, but she caught everyone's attention anyway.
"Oh?" Dumbledore asked, his eyebrows high up on his forehead.
"Well, he and Harry have some kind of mind link, you know that," she started. When Dumbledore nodded, she continued. "Well, then he can see everything Harry sees and hears his thoughts and everything, yes?" Again, Dumbledore nodded. "Well, Harry thinks that Luna might be a Seer... and he's not the only one who thinks that, either." Ron nodded from his seat, as did Neville.
"A Seer?" Remus asked curiously from his place beside an almost despondent Sirius.
"Yes," Hermione answered. "You see, everyone just thinks she's strange or 'Loony' as everyone calls her. Harry thinks - and so do I - that Luna's strangeness is just her way of covering up the fact that she can See. It might also be a coping mechanism, as well. It might be a bit confusing for her, maybe she has difficulty distinguishing what is happening around her and what she is Seeing. I think she can See both into the future and into the past, she knows things she couldn't possibly know otherwise. I mean, even tonight, when we went to Umbridge's office to use the Floo, Luna was already there waiting for us by the door when we got there. There was no way she could have known we'd be going there! But she mentioned some creature had told her that we'd be going on an adventure and that we'd need her help. What was it she called it?" She turned to Ron and the other students.
"A Blibbering Humdinger," Neville supplied.
Hermione nodded. "Yes, that."
Dumbledore hummed in thought. "Very astute, Miss Granger. I'll have to speak to Xenophilius about this, when I go to deliver him the unfortunate news that his daughter has been kidnapped by the Dark Lord." Hermione and all the other children in the room frowned and slumped more in their seats, obviously they all felt guilty in some way about what happened. Dumbledore observed them for a moment, before he turned to the returned Minerva McGonagall. Dumbledore had taken the opportunity, while at the Ministry, to have her arrest warrant voided, as well as starting the process of getting Sirius pardoned - now that everything was out in the open and no one was questioning his credibility or sanity any longer. "Minerva, if you would take the students back to their dormitories. I think they are in need of some much deserved rest." McGonagall nodded and started shooing the students out the door. "Oh, and students?" he asked, gaining the attention of all the teenagers. "None of this is your fault. None of you are responsible for what has happened, nor is Harry. The only one at fault here is Voldemort, remember that."
Once they were gone, Dumbledore turned to the rest of his Order, trying to think of what to tell them. There really wasn't much they could do until they found where Harry and Luna were being held. In the end, Dumbledore only told his Order of the Phoenix to continue what they'd been doing, and to put a higher priority on finding the Dark Lord's followers and their lairs. They had all left with their assignments, muttering ideas to eachother. Remus had dragged Sirius away, muttering something about finding the werewolves.
Once his office was empty, the weary Headmaster sighed deeply and relaxed back into his seat, looking and feeling every bit his age.
�@
--Slytherin Castle, somewhere in Ireland. Friday 1 March 1996, 11:01 a.m.--
The Dark Lord Voldemort lay in his bed, beside the smaller body of his chosen. He lay awake on his side, his head raised on his elbow, staring at the innocent sleeping face, observing the lovely specimen. Harry Potter had grown up quite nicely in the last year. He looked more of an adult than he did the last time he'd seen him up close. Who knew one year could make such a difference between a fourteen year old and a fifteen year old?
He'd taken the shackles off when he returned to his chambers, when he'd found Potter passed out from the pain, with cuts around his wrists and ankle and tear tracks on his cheeks. He didn't heal them yet, and he didn't feel guilty about that, he'd warned the brat before hand, had given him the opportunity to cooperate but he'd decided not to. Voldemort had taken notice of the bandages on Potter's left hand, wondering why he hadn't noticed it before. When he unwrapped them, he thought that he should have kept a better watch on the boy's school life, because he had no idea where this wound came from, only that it read 'I must not tell lies.' carved into the back of his hand. He'd tried healing it, but it wouldn't close with only a simple healing charm, so he'd wrapped it back up and decided that he'd have to find something more specific to healing whatever this wound was, as soon as Potter woke up and answered his questions.
He watched the boy sleep, reaching a hand to brush his hair away from the legendary scar - the scar that held a piece of him. He ran his fingers over it and down Harry Potter's cheek, filled with an odd sense of disbelief. He watched Potter wince in his sleep, letting out a small whimper. Yes, there was that slight hiccup. He'd have to find a way to touch him without causing pain, otherwise, he would find bedding the little brat to be that much more difficult. 'But for now, Potter will just have to bear it,' he thought, as he wrapped his arms around the boy and pulled him against his chest, spooning him. "Mine," he whispered possessively against the raven locks.
�@
Harry awoke slowly, the first thing he noticed was how much pain he was in. His head hurt, his wrists and hand hurt, his ankle hurt and there was a general ache in his bones. The second thing he noticed was that he was in a bed that was far too comfortable to be one from the Hospital Wing or Gryffindor dormitory. Then, he noticed the warmth against his back. His eyes shot open, and upon seeing the Slytherin colors, the events of the night before came flooding back to him. He stiffened, turning his head slowly to look at who was behind him. When his own emerald eyes connected with a set of curiously violet eyes, crinkled in amusement, and noticed the face they were set into, Harry jolted upright and scampered away. With a shout, he fell off the side of the tall bed and landed on the hard wood floor with a dull thud.
Harry hissed in pain. "Ow, son of a..." Harry whimpered, rubbing his sore backside.
The Dark Lord chuckled, then he was met with the sound of fabric and knobbly limbs sliding across the floor. "Come out from under the bed," he ordered.
"...No."
"You can't stay under there forever," Voldemort argued.
"Let me go home and I'll come out," Harry tried.
"No," Voldemort parroted. Harry sighed. "Stop acting like a child and come out of there."
"I am a child and make me," Harry hissed, then slapped his hand over his mouth, realizing what he'd just said and to whom.
"Gladly," the Dark Lord answered, pulling out his wand and casting a summoning charm. Like a spring had snapped, a petulant looking Harry was ejected out from under the bed with a yelp and flung back on top of it. Barely a second later, Harry was wrapped in tight ropes that kept him from moving his arms and legs. A hand reached out and turned Harry, so he was lying on his side facing the Dark Lord. Harry bit his lip and glared mutinously at the smirking and obviously amused Voldemort. The Dark Lord that, now that Harry paid attention, he noticed was topless - at least from what he could see, he was only topless. Harry wanted to kick himself for blushing again.
The Dark Lord made himself comfortable, lying on his side. "First things first," Voldemort said, reaching behind him for the potion phial he had sitting ready on the nightstand. He brought it around and held it in front of Harry's face.
"What's that?" Harry asked warily.
"A temporary vision correcting potion. Your glasses were left behind at the Ministry and I don't know what strength to make them to transfigure you a new pair, so this will have to do for now," Voldemort explained. Harry hesitated and flicked his eyes between the phial and the Dark Lord's face - much like he had the night before. "If you don't want it, I have no problem with letting you stumble around blindly. More entertainment for me that way." He started turning to put phial back on the nightstand.
"Fine," Harry grumbled.
"Open up," Voldemort instructed, uncorking the phial. Harry opened his mouth, his eyes glaring at the man in front of him. The potion was poured into Harry's mouth and Harry swallowed it with a grimace.
Then, Harry squeezed his eyes shut and growled, burying his face into the bed clothes. "What is with you and giving me potions that hurt like a bitch?!" he shouted into the mattress.
"It's not intentional, I assure you."
"You could have warned me!"
"Where's the fun in that?"
"It feels like a grindylow is chewing on my eyeballs!"
"That's an interesting mental image."
Harry lifted his head and glared at Voldemort again, only slightly surprised at how well the potion worked; at how clearly he could see.
The Dark Lord jabbed the tip of his wand against Harry's chest. "Now then, allow me to explain a few things to you. No, stay quiet and listen," he said, when Harry went to open his mouth. Harry snapped his mouth shut again, because really, he wasn't in the best position to argue. "You will not be leaving here. I want you out of the war and out of my way, I also want those genetics of yours to be put to good use. So, I'm not going to kill you. That would be a waste of good wizarding blood." Harry's brow furrowed, his mouth opening to argue again. "You're probably under the same delusion as the rest of the Wizarding World, thinking I want blood purity, but I'll let you in on a little secret - I don't. No, that would make me a hypocrite, as I myself am only a half-blood." Now Harry seemed thoroughly confused. "I only allow people to think that's what I want, because that's what most of my followers want, since most of them are Purebloods and I wish to keep them relatively happy... for now. But I'm only using my Pureblood followers for their political power and their knowledge of Dark Magic. No, I could care less about the purity of one's blood. What I care about is the Magic. You see, if things continue the way they have been, Magic itself will die out, I want to change that. I have no intention of killing off all the Muggleborns, it's their blood that is the future of the Wizarding World. The only problem is, they're bringing their Muggle superstitions and religions into the Wizarding World with them. Add on top of that, the Ministry is getting lazy. The old practices are dying out, and that's something that cannot happen. Magic is in itself a religion, you might say. There are rituals and traditions that need to be observed in order to keep the Magic strong. Magic has to be used to its full extent to keep it from stagnating and then fading away.
I need the power my Pureblood followers hold in the Wizengamot to put laws into motion that will enforce the old traditions and laws that will allow the removal of Muggleborn children from their Muggle upbringings. I know, I know, everyone thinks that's a heartless and cruel thing to do - taking children from their parents - but the thing is, most Muggleborn children end up being shunned or abused by their Muggle families, because their thick-headed parents and relatives don't understand what is going on with their children. Very few Muggles have the capacity to appreciate their Magical children." At this point, Harry was frowning and looking away from Voldemort's eyes. "I gather you know what I'm talking about. You were raised by Muggle relatives, correct?" Voldemort asked. Harry reluctantly nodded. "And I assume they didn't understand you or might have even been scared of you?"
Harry nodded again, still not meeting the Dark Lord's eyes. "They didn't want to understand," Harry muttered. "They were content to just think of me as a freak."
Voldemort nodded. "I was raised in a similar situation. I was brought up in an orphanage, a Muggle orphanage. See, that's something else that needs changing. Whenever a Magical child is orphaned, there is nowhere for them to go but a Muggle orphanage. I want to establish Magical orphanages, that are equipped to deal with young wizards and witches who lose control of their Magic. Also, I wish to make sure those orphanages are funded well enough, that the children in them aren't fighting each other for food and clothing, and to make sure the directors and employees aren't able to embezzle the money they are meant to spend on the children."
Harry looked up at Voldemort, looking a little stricken. "That... actually makes a lot of sense."
"It does," the Dark Lord nodded. "But no one else has bothered to try and change any of this, they just allow things to continue the way they have been. To continue in a way that they are comfortable and familiar with. No one wants to make the hard choices to ensure the future, they only want to make sure they don't hurt anyone else's feelings." Voldemort sneered. "But I will. I don't care about what anyone else thinks or feels, I will do what needs to be done. It would be easier and more effective for the Wizarding World to work together, but, alas, all the Muggleborns are offended by the notion of taking them and others like them from their families. I've tried to get the old ways reinstated back into the Hogwart's curriculum, but Dumbledore is one of those people who wants to make everyone happy, or at least the majority happy, but the majority is Muggleborn."
"Well, all things considered, I think you're going about this all wrong," Harry muttered haltingly. "But this doesn't explain why you want me here and are forcefeeding me pregnancy potions."
The Dark Lord raised a challeging eyebrow. "'Going about this all wrong'?" he quoted, ignoring Harry's other statement.
Harry looked away. "Well, I don't know enough about the old ways to know what needs to change, but I don't think you need to take children from their families. I think it would make a huge difference if children and their families were just educated about Magic at an earlier age. Especially Muggleborns and Muggle-raised. I admit, finding out I was a wizard at eleven was one hell of a rabbit hole to suddenly fall into," he ended, looking up at the Dark Lord again.
"You didn't know you were a wizard before then?" Voldemort asked, masking his surprise.
Harry bit his lip and looked away again. "No, my relatives were convinced they could stamp it out of me, so they never said anything. I didn't know I was a wizard until Hagrid came to get me to take me shopping for my school supplies." He flinched when Voldemort suddenly started growling.
"That. Is exactly. What I'm talking about!" the Dark Lord said through gritted teeth, glaring at Harry.
"Okay! But stop looking at me like it's my fault!" Harry squeaked. Voldemort rolled over the other way, flinging the comforter off of himself and standing up. Harry blushed all the way up to his ears when he realized the man had been completely naked the whole time. The Dark Lord started pacing, hissing to himself. Harry cringed when he noticed the snake by the fire, when it uncoiled itself and slithered over to the Dark Lord, to slither up and over his shoulders, hissing in a comforting manner. Harry couldn't help the sudden tightness in his jeans. It was quite a sight - a handsome, well-toned man looking to be in his mid-twenties, with lightly tanned skin, standing completely naked in the middle of the room with a massive snake curled around his shoulders.
Harry forced the arousal down and wriggled a little in his bindings. "Um...," he murmured, hesitant to get the angry Dark Wizard's attention, but he got it anyway. "Could you possibly untie me? My arms are going numb." The Dark Lord lazily flicked his wand and Harry was released, then he went back to pacing around, naked, as though Harry weren't even there. Harry sat up and rubbed at the places where the ropes had been digging in. He hesitated again, then decided it couldn't wait anymore. "Where's the bathroom?" Voldemort pointed over his shoulder to a door that stood open behind him. Harry slipped off of the bed and went into the bathroom and relieved his full bladder of its load. When he returned to the bedroom, he limped over to the bed and sat back down. He looked around, wondering what he should do, when Nagini, the snake, slithered off of Voldemort's shoulders and over to the bed. She slithered up onto the bed and over to Harry, raising herself up to observe him. She flicked her tongue out, the tip of it brushing Harry's cheek, making him shiver. "~Hello!~" Harry hissed to her in Parseltongue.
The Dark Lord's head shot around to look at Harry. He'd known the boy could speak Parseltongue, but hearing it out of his mouth was still surprising.
"~Greetingssss, Hatchling,~" Nagini replied, slithering up onto his lap.
"~Hatchling?~" Harry asked.
"~You are not adult yet, you are hatchling,~" she answered, curling her body around him and settling down. Harry reached out and hesitantly stroked her diamond-shaped head. She hissed in pleasure and curled around him tigher, coaxing him into continuing, which he gladly did. When he started scratching the back of her head lightly, she tilted her head to give him better access, hissing a little more loudly. "~Oh, yessss, right there!~" she hissed, her tongue flicking and her head swaying in bliss. Harry chuckled and scratched a little harder, going down her body a little, scratching away dead scales that hadn't fallen off the last time she'd shed. She settled down on his lap, hissing pleasantly, curling the rest of her body around him and holding him in an almost loving embrace.
"~You going to sleep, then?~" Harry asked her. She stayed silent and simply nudged her head against his hand, to get him to keep scratching and patting her. He kept going, really not minding giving the snake the affection she wanted from him.
"You're getting scales all over my bed," a deep voice cut in. Harry looked up and met the Dark Lord's intense stare, and blushed. He stopped scratching Nagini's head, much to her dismay. She nudged his hand again, trying to get him to continue.
"Sorry," Harry muttered.
The Dark Lord waved it off. "It's fine, it's already full of her scales anyway," he said, pacing around the bed. "Though, it's your own fault when she starts getting spoiled and won't leave you alone."
Harry giggled and shrugged, then started scratching her scales again. When Harry couldn't take the stare coming from the Dark Lord anymore, he looked up at him and blushed deeper. "Could you... put some clothes on?" he asked, looking away.
Voldemort smirked evilly and paced over to stand in front of Harry. "No," he said, his smirk widening when Harry looked up at him and seemed to choke when he realized his face was level with the Dark Lord's groin. "Does it bother you?"
"N-No," Harry lied terribly, hastily looking away again.
"You know we have a link between our minds," the Dark Lord started, leaning down to put his hands on the bed on either side of Harry, putting their faces inches apart. "I know all about your dreams, Harry," he purred, enjoying the bright red of the boy's face. Harry's eyes widened and he tried to back up, but Nagini was a dead weight, holding him where he was. "They weren't a one-sided affair, though." He chuckled at Harry's mortified expression. The Dark Lord took on a contemplative expression, peering at Harry like Hermione would peer at a new book. "In approximately two weeks, I will be having you, right here on this bed, whether you like it or not. My only debate is whether to... 'break you in' before hand?" He grinned wolfishly, as Harry's eyes widened and he shook his head frantically. "Then again, you've had a number of others 'breaking you in' as of late, haven't you?" Voldemort asked darkly through gritted teeth, his amused violet eyes going red in fury. Voldemort silently debated for a moment, as Harry's face paled drastically. Then, Voldemort snatched his hand behind Harry's neck and pulled him in for a rough kiss. Harry squeaked, his hands pushing against the muscular body that was pushing him backward and climbing over him, dislodging Nagini.
Nagini slithered away, muttering indignantly about, "~Stupid mammals!~"
Harry kept his mouth firmly closed, his hands pushing and slapping at the Dark Lord; flailing limbs effectively made him look like a flopping fish. Voldemort grabbed Harry's arms and pinned them down, as he bit at the brat's lips to get them open, plunging his tongue into the warm and whimpering cavern. Then, one of Harry's flailing limbs - his left leg to be precise - made contact with a naked groin. Voldemort hissed and growled against Harry's lips, his grip loosening on the boy's wrists. Harry pulled his hands free and planted them against the Dark Lord's face and pushed his head up and away from him.
"Get off me!" Harry shouted, as he panted from lack of air, his lips bruised, while he kept his hands on Voldemort's face.
Voldemort started growling angrily - only for his growl to be overshadowed by a louder growl coming from Harry's stomach. Harry 's ears burned and he blushed down his neck, as the Dark Lord sighed heavily, his eyes going from a furious crimson red to an annoyed reddish pink.
One of Voldemort's eyes was twitching in annoyance, as he sat up. "To be continued," the Dark Lord grumbled and got up off of Harry, making his way to his enormous walk-in closet.
Harry heaved a deep sigh of relief and sat up, watching the door the Dark Lord had gone through. He rubbed at his wrists, still covered in cuts from the shackles and now bruises from Voldemort's grip. He sighed again despairingly. What was he supposed to do now? 'Stuck in Voldemort's home -in his bedroom!- with no wand and being forced to take potions so he can knock me up!?' Harry thought angrily. 'The World has been flipped upside down and I didn't even notice!'
"Stop thinking so hard, you'll strain something," Voldemort said, as he came out of his closet dressed in sleek black robes with emerald green trim. Harry's gaze trailed over him briefly, his cheeks blushing again and his heartbeat fluttering. "Follow me," the Dark Lord commanded, walking to the huge set of double doors that led out of the room and into the corridor.
Harry scooted off of the bed gingerly, his wrists and ankle sore from the shackles and his body achy from his escapade through the Ministry of Magic. He padded barefoot through the room and to the door that Voldemort was holding open, waiting for him. Voldemort slammed the door behind them, taking out some of his ire on the door. Harry flinched and followed the irritated Dark Lord down the short corridor when he stalked away. Harry tried to keep up with him, but he kept limping and Voldemort was walking at a brisk pace. After a moment, Voldemort walked through a door and left it open for Harry to follow. When Harry walked into the room, he noticed it was a smaller dining room for a castle this size, with a table that only held room for about eight people. There were two place settings, one at the head of the table, where Voldemort sat, and one on his immediate right. Harry limped over and sat, his stomach rumbling in anticipation when food appeared as soon as he was seated. His mouth started watering and he glanced at the Dark Lord to see that he was already filling his own plate, then dove into the brunch set before him, not sure how long he would have to eat. He filled his plate with one of the egg and ham sandwiches, some bacon, a couple peeled hard-boiled eggs, and grabbed a waffle that he topped with fruit and maple syrup. He started eating and his eyes fluttered shut at how good it tasted. They ate in silence, Harry polished off his plate fairly quickly, his eyes flicking to the berry fruit tarts that were in front of him. He snatched one up and started eating it. He glanced at Voldemort, and faltered a little to notice he was being watched closely by the man, who had an amused air about him. Harry blushed faintly and looked away, nibbling on the fruit tart.
"You're eating as though you're afraid I will take it away from you," Voldemort commented.
Harry shrugged. "Wasn't sure if you would actually let me eat or just taunt me with the food."
The Dark Lord rolled his eyes. "I only do things like that to prisoners."
"And I'm not a prisoner?" Harry asked skeptically.
"Not really," Voldemort said, still watching Harry. "You're just an unwilling permanent guest, for now."
"Isn't that the same thing?" Harry frowned.
"Not in this case," Voldemort told him, sitting back in his chair. "Unless you'd prefer to stay in the dungeons? I assure you, they are not a pleasant place to be." Harry shook his head hastily. "Good, then. Eat as much as you want." And the Dark Lord went back to his own food. Harry ate at a more leisurely pace after that, the silence a little more comfortable between them. Soon that comfortable silence started getting a bit strained again. Voldemort's eyes had gotten darker, as if he was thinking about something he didn't like, judging by the pain shooting through Harry's head. Harry didn't comment or ask what was going through his mind, even when Voldemort turned his gaze back to Harry, watching him with eyes that were steadily getting redder.
"Why?" Voldemort practically growled at him.
Harry looked at him warily, swallowing his mouthful of food. "Why what?"
"Why did you let those brats touch you?"
"What?" Harry asked, not entirely sure what he was talking about.
"I saw it all, you know," Voldemort hissed. "All those TRYSTS of yours. I paid close attention to when you let those others touch you, and to who those others were."
Harry scowled. "Well, you shouldn't have! That was all private!" Harry shouted.
"Seamus Finnegan, Colin Creevey. Draco Malfoy, oh, am I going to torture him! And that Seer! Lee Jordan and those WEASLEYS!" the Dark Lord bellowed. "You've really been around, haven't you!?"
"It's none of your business what I do with whomever I choose to do it with, when I choose to do it!" Harry yelled, inwardly fretting what the Dark Lord would do with those names.
"You are my business!" Voldemort stood, slamming his hands on the table, knocking his chair over and knocking quite a few things off the table. Harry flinched, wincing at the pain shooting through his scar.
"Since when?!" Harry asked, also standing.
Voldemort grabbed the front of Harry's shirt and yanked him forward, putting the fingers of his other hand to Harry's scar. "Since this!"
Harry hissed in pain and tried to tug himself free. "What gives you the right to have any say in how I live my life?! Because I've had enough of it! You've been fucking up my life since before I can remember! Why can't you just leave me alone?!" He shoved the Dark Lord backward as hard as he could. He heard the fabric of his t-shirt tearing as Voldemort stumbled away, his shirt collar tearing a little along the seams, but he ignored it.
The Dark Lord's eyes went a bright crimson, and he was seething with anger (and just a tiny amount of desire - he refused to admit to the jealousy), his anger was so potent that the pain in Harry's head was almost blinding. Harry and Voldemort stood and stared at each other for a tense moment, both of them panting from the spike of adrenaline that went through them in anticipation of a fight. Harry didn't have anything that he could have used as a weapon, except the cutlery, but he doubted that would go over well against a wand-armed Dark Lord. So, he decided he might as well try to make a break for it, and he started lobbing random things from the table at Voldemort (who looked almost surprised to get hit in the head with muffins), as Harry started walking backwards toward the door that they had first come in through.
Voldemort angrily swiped his wand, and everything on the table was sent careening onto the floor on the opposite side of the table from Harry - he greatly enjoyed the sound of expensive china shattering. With another flick of his wand, the door slammed shut and locked just as Harry got to it. Harry growled and slammed his fists against the door, before turning back to face Voldemort. He flinched back when he found the Dark Lord inches away from him. (How did he get so close so fast?) Voldemort slammed Harry against the door, with what Harry could only describe as intense lust in his eyes. He stabbed his wand against Harry's throat, his magic super heating the tip in his fury, burning Harry's skin. But Harry didn't care, he slapped the arm and wand away from him, making Voldemort lose his grip on his wand and drop it, and he followed it up with a right hook to the Dark Lord's jaw. The Dark Lord Voldemort stumbled backward in mild surprise; because he was a proud wizard and he couldn't believe he was getting into a fist fight with a boy who was half his size, again. He saw red and lunged forward, simultaneously grabbing Harry's right arm in a bruising grip and burying the knuckles of his own right hand into Harry's solar plexus, knocking the wind out of him. He then swung Harry around by his arm and slammed him onto the table with a loud crash. Harry grunted, pain going through his spine from being slammed against the hard wood, his head bouncing against the hard surface from the force.
He lay there limp and dazed for a few moments, long enough for Voldemort to pin him to the table and slam his mouth to Harry's, bestowing Harry with an angry and violently passionate kiss. Voldemort's tongue forced its way into Harry's mouth for the second time that day, causing a small moan to come out of a startled Harry. Teeth bit into Harry's lips and tongue, a dominant tongue licking up the blood and a warm mouth sucking on the wounds.
Voldemort pulled away, panting. "The sheer audacity you have to question me, to argue with me? Shout at me, to HIT me?! You should count yourself lucky, because anyone else would be dead." With that, he bit harshly into Harry's lower lip, making Harry whimper, then he trailed bloody kisses and nips down Harry's jaw, to his neck, where he bit, sucked and gnawed to leave a large, dark purple mark. Staking his claim.
Harry whimpered again, the fuzziness from hitting his head so hard finally wearing off. "Get off me," he muttered, trying to yank his arms free from the Dark Lord's grip. Voldemort whispered a spell and released Harry's arms, but when Harry tried to move them, he found them magically stuck to the table.
"You're mine," the Dark Lord said huskily, his hands gripping Harry's stretched and torn shirt. With a vicious tug, he ripped the t-shirt open, making Harry gasp and struggle harder to get free. Voldemort went to kiss the newly exposed flesh but stopped when he got a good look. His breath hitched and, immediately, a great deal of the Dark Lord's lust was replaced by rage, when he saw Harry's chest and sides were covered in vivid scars, and he'd wager his back was just as bad - if not worse. "Who did this?" he hissed softly.
"What?" Harry asked confusedly, then glanced down to see what he was staring at. Harry groaned and let his head thump back onto the table. "There're supposed to be glamours covering those!"
"There are wards around this castle that nullify stealth and disguise spells and potions, including glamours. Now, who did this!? Your relatives, give me their names!" Voldemort asked in a dangerous tone. He recognized those scars, he'd seen scars like them before, he even had a few like them before, until he used magic to get rid of them. They were the tell tale scars of abuse, severe and violent abuse; Harry had been whipped, with what he assumed was a belt, buckle side down; Harry had been cut and scratched and burned and heaven only knew what else.
Harry stayed quiet and avoided Voldemort's gaze. "It's none of your concern."
"It is my concern," Voldemort hissed. "We've been over this, you are mine. Whoever did this needs to be punished, to learn their place!"
Harry turned to glare at him. "I really wish you would stop referring to me like I'm some kind of object! I don't belong to anyone, least of all, YOU!" He started struggling to get up again, but his arms were still stuck to the table, so all he could do was wriggle and kick his legs. Unfortunately, he was't in the right position to kick the Dark Lord like last time; this time, Voldemort was firmly between his legs. And there was something poking him in the hip, and he knew it wasn't his wand. 'Voldemort is turned on by violence; really should have seen that one coming,' Harry thought.
The Dark Lord chuckled with a sadistic mirth. "Kick and scream all you want, it won't change anything. And you're avoiding the question!"
"You really think I'm going to tell you anything?"
"These scars are obviously from abuse, I've seen scars like them before. It wouldn't take much to find out where you live during the summer. I already know you live in Surrey somewhere," Voldemort threatened. Harry's glare turned icy and he managed to turn his leg just enough to ram his knee into the Dark Lord's side. Said Dark Lord shouted in startled pain, and grabbed Harry's legs, pushing them open and away from his sides. He took the opportunity to grind his hips against Harry's groin, causing the teenager to gasp and jerk. The jerking motion made Harry's hips press upwards against the Dark Lord, who let out a growling moan as his cock twitched. "Perhaps, we should save this discussion for later," he said, looking at Harry with a predatory glint in his eye. He leaned in and ran his tongue over one of Harry's nipples, lapping at the pert pink nub. Harry couldn't hold in the whimper...
Then there was a knock at the door.
Voldemort growled and ignored it, angrily biting the nub he had just been tasting, making Harry shout in surprise and pain (and he was ashamed to say it was in pleasure as well).
There was another, more urgent knock.
"WHAT?!" Voldemort shouted furiously over his shoulder, in the direction of the door. His arousal deflated in his annoyance.
A gruff voice called from the other side of the door. "My lord, I apologize for interrupting, but I need to speak with you."
The horny older wizard growled louder, standing up straight and raising his hand to summon his wand from across the room. When the wand went soaring back into its master's hand, Harry was filled with disappointment, annoyance and clear disdain, knowing now that Voldemort had the situation, and him, under his control the whole time! The Dark Lord adjusted his appearance and flicked his wand to unlock and open the door, leaving Harry stuck to the table for now.
"What do you want, Greyback, that is so important that you interrupt me at meal time?" Voldemort intoned, his wand hand twitching with his effort to control his desire to send the Cruciatus Curse at the damned cock-blocking werewolf.
"We have a couple intruders, my Lord," Greyback answered, his hulking figure stepping into the room and surveying the mess and Harry with a slight smirk on his face.
"Why bother me with this? Just kill them!" Voldemort snarled.
"I would, my Lord, but I was under the impression that you wanted to keep this little minx of yours happy." Fenrir Greyback flashed a predatory grin at Harry.
"Watch yourself, Greyback," Voldemort warned, not liking the look on Fenrir's face one bit. "Who are these intruders?" Fenrir grinned and turned back to the door, disappearing beyond it. He returned a moment later, dragging two bound bodies behind him by thick ropes. He dropped the squirming but silenced captives at the Dark Lord's feet. Voldemort raised his eyebrow as he looked down at the prisoners. "How exactly did they manage to find this place so quickly? How did they find it at all?!" he asked the werewolf, who was pouting a little in shame.
"I apologize, my Lord, I believe they followed me and my pack, when we returned after the raid last ni-," Greyback didn't get to finish, as he was on the floor under the Cruciatus Curse, gritting his teeth and forcing himself not to utter a sound.
Harry lifted his head up as far as he could, to see who it was tied up on the floor. He could see the bodies wriggling in their bonds, but not their faces. He forced himself up further, putting his shoulders in a very uncomfortable position; one wrong move and he would dislocate them. When he saw the shaggy, dark hair on one of them, and noticing the tattered state of the clothes of the other, he gasped in dread. "Siri?! Remmy?!" The squirming bodies started thrashing harder at the sound of his voice. With a flick of the Dark Lord's wand, Fenrir was released from the curse and Harry was released from his position on the table. Fenrir stood shakily and Harry slid off the table to the floor that was covered in broken glass and china. He ignored the sharp debris cutting into his hands and knees in favor of crawling over to the two bound figures, who were desperately fighting against their restraints, their mouths moving but no sound escaped them. He reached Sirius first, who was looking more and more angry by the second, as he took in the sight of Harry's torn shirt, bruised abdomen, and cut and bruised wrists. He also saw the scars that littered Harry's body, his eyes darkening with anger, probably convinced they were all made by Voldemort somehow.
Remus watched Harry from the other side of Sirius, his nose sniffing and taking in the scent of pain, anger and desire rolling off of Harry and the Dark Lord. He wasn't entirely sure what to make of the situation.
Voldemort squatted on the other side of the two captives, watching Harry's face. "Well, isn't this a fortunate turn of events?" he said, glancing at the thrashing figures. "Will you answer that question you were avoiding, Harry, or should I torture the information out of these two? I'm sure they know where you spend your summers." Harry looked up sharply at him, then back down to Sirius and Remus. "What will it be? Will you protect these two, or will you protect your abusers?" Sirius and Remus stilled, listening to the Dark Lord talk, and wondering what he meant. Abusers?
Harry bit his lip, glaring at Voldemort, weighing his options. He knew the man would torture his godfathers and possibly kill them, and there was nothing Harry could do to stop him, except to tell him about the Dursleys. But then if he told him about his relatives, he would go torture and kill them. His blood relatives or his family by love, the people who actually care about him? It was a hard decision, but one that he could make.
He stayed silent for a few moments, watching Sirius and Remus look back at him. "My mother's sister, Petunia, and her husband, Vernon Dursley, and their son, Dudley," Harry answered solemnly, his shoulders slumping in defeat and tears building in his eyes. Sirius and Remus were both obviously feeling angry and ashamed. Their quest to find and rescue Harry had been partially successful, but in their efforts they'd forced him to sell out his family to save their sorry hides.
"Address?" Voldemort prompted.
"Number 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey."
Voldemort smiled sadistically, reaching a long fingered hand to comb through Harry's messy, silky, black locks. "Good boy."
�@
--Little Whinging, Surrey. A moment later.--
The house of Number 4 trembled as though from a mild earthquake, when the powerful wards fell as the protection of blood was broken. The only two people currently in the house shrieked and shouted in surprise; the wife dropping the dish she had been drying, shattering it on the floor; the husband dropping his car keys and briefcase in the hall as he was on his way out to his car to go back to work after lunch. Both of them had only one thought as the trembling stopped. 'The Freak!'
TBC
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