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The Slytherin Prince	By : Sablesilverrain Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Tom Views: 33958 -:- Recommendations : 6 -:- Currently Reading : 7
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or anything else you recognise here. I make no money from this story, and am only writing it for amusement purposes.

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What’s going on...

Harry grinned and waited while the man composed himself, then looked him dead in the eye and announced, “Now it’s my followers’ turn.”

On to the chapter!

Dumbledore’s eyes widened in alarm. “Followers? What do you... Harry, tell me you are not becoming a Dark Lord yourself! You’ve seen what it does to people! You’ll become what you’ve always hated!”

Harry snorted. “Maybe what I’ve hated until last year, but surely you’ve noticed, old man, that I’ve been following a different path from the one you’ve so carefully laid for me. I’m not becoming a Dark Lord, per se, that’s not my role, but as Marvolo’s consort, I do need a group to act as my guards, my confidantes, and, as those preclude a certain amount of trust, they have become my friends, as well. I suppose I should let you know who they are, since you will not be let out to tell anyone the news. That rather negates the risk it used to be. Hopefuls, cowls down.” He called out in a firm tone, and as one, all his followers lowered their cowls, baring their faces.

Dumbledore stared at them all, seeming resigned as he took in each Slytherin in the group, but becoming horrified as he saw Hermione, Cedric, Luna, Lavender, Sirius, and Remus. He blanched chalk-white as his eyes landed on Fred and George, and Neville. “Neville, My Boy, what has he done to you?! Miss Granger, you’re the brightest witch of—”

Harry cast a silencing charm on the man. “Enough of that. I’ve given them the trust they deserve, the protection they need to feel secure, and let’s not forget, I gave them the truth when they asked for it. Bald and unembellished, and let them choose for themselves where to go and what to do with the knowledge. They chose to stick to my side. Their courage and loyalty are rewarded, time and again, as they continue to prove themselves my staunchest supporters and my comrades-in-arms. I give them what they deserve. As you will be getting what you deserve.” He finished.

Dumbledore hung his head at that, and Harry released him from the silencing spell. “I don’t know where I went wrong...” He whispered.

“The Smallest Bedroom, 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. Ring a bell?!” Harry hissed, then waved away whatever retort Dumbledore thought would erase his biggest sins. “Sirius, have at it. False Imprisonment for twelve years. One spell, carte blanche.” He said, voice hard and unforgiving.

Dumbledore hung his head in resignation and waited for the axe of Sirius’ revenge to fall upon him.

Sirius strode forward and glared at Dumbledore. “You were more than willing—eager, even—to let me rot in Azkaban forever. Do you have any idea what it did to me to learn that you, the one man that knew I was innocent, had insisted that I be sent there, post-haste?! Without even a trial! I trusted you, and when I got out, I did my best to hide it, because I thought you'd at least have everybody else's best interests at heart. But you didn’t, did you? We were all just chess pieces, to m9ve as you felt and watch how your plans fell out. If one of us died, oh well, just move another one into their place. You make me sick!” He pointed his wand straight between the man's eyes and intoned, “Iuncturis aquam.”

He watched in smug satisfaction as Dumbledore’s eyes widened as he felt the effects of the curse. All the liquid not absolutely essential to keeping his body running was leaving his blood and organs, especially the brain, and pooling instead in his joints, swelling them and causing a fair amount of discomfort.

“That little Black family gem can't be reversed but by the caster. And I have no desire to end it. You'll just have to deal with it. After all, My Prince did specify one spell. So even if I wanted to fix it, My time with you is over.” Sirius said lightly, then turned and walked back to his spot among the Hopefuls.

Harry snickered to himself as Dumbledore, still leaning to one side thanks to his broken leg, began making little movements accompanied by sounds of intense discomfort that he seemed to be trying to stifle, apparently unwilling to give Sirius the satisfaction of knowing his spell was having an effect.

“Draco, your turn.” Harry said next, waving the blond forward.

Draco walked up to the man with a wide smile. “Oh, I’ve been waiting for this.” He said, voice dripping with venom and satisfaction both. “You attempted to put not only me, which I might have been able to let slide, but my mates, my children, under surveillance. You didn’t trust us—as you should not have, but that is beside the point—and you put recording spells over our bed, you pervert! Did it not occur to you that I am not of age, and you would have seen some things that are very much illegal unless you are my bonded mate? Oh, wait, I know that you don’t have much care for that.”

Dumbledore looked shocked, and opened his mouth, but Draco continued before he could speak.

“Oh, yes, I have heard some tales, of late. Some people are placing more trust in me and mine. We all three of us know, now. You are despicable. I’m not only doing this to avenge my mates and my daughters, but to attempt to return some of the pain you have caused without remorse. There is nothing on this Earth more important to me than my family, and too many members of it have been wronged by you.” He waved his wand over Dumbledore’s body and cast, “Decies minima secat.”

Fred and George winced, apparently recognizing the spell, as tiny cuts appeared all over Dumbledore’s exposed skin. They didn’t bleed, and appeared to be nothing more than papercuts, but Harry knew that they would sting mightily. It was fitting, and very Draco to cause extended discomfort that would add to the other spells he was currently labouring under.

Harry pulled Tom down the few inches separating them and kissed him before he asked, “Is it okay for Fred and George to test a few pranks on him after their spell?”

Tom considered it and nodded. “Alright, I suppose. Four. Then he is mine until Minerva ends things.”

Harry frowned. “You’re letting her take the kill?” He asked incredulously.

Tom chuckled. “It will be best to save the final reveal for when he knows there is nothing more he has to fear from me. Then he will find that I have taken his most trusted lieutenant from him.”

Harry grinned. “That’s devious.”

Tom leered at him. “Does that turn you on?” He purred.

Harry snorted. “No. Let’s move on.” He turned back to his followers. “Fred, George, you can share your turn. I’m sure you have a plan.”

They grinned wickedly and nodded. “We have a plan.” George confirmed.

Harry waved them on.

They walked up to Dumbledore and drew their wands.

“And then you can test four experimental items on him. I did tell you I would ask.” He added at Dumbledore’s incredulous look.

They chuckled.

Dumbledore shook his head, wincing as his neck tried to refuse the movement. “Please—”

“Shut. Up.” Harry snarled, raising his wand again. “You don’t need your voice to feel, you know.”

Dumbledore clamped his mouth shut and glared.

The twins smirked and raised their wands.

“Ready?” Fred asked.

“And waiting.” George confirmed.

“Tribuo instinctus!” They cast together. Dumbledore stiffened, and his face went through a wide series of emotions, shifting from one to the next as though his brain could not settle on a single feeling for more than a split-second. It was as if he was waging an internal war with himself.

“Feel it? What you kept from us without our consent? It’s too bad your mind can’t settle on one, but maybe you should have left our inheritances as they were from the beginning. We didn’t want to risk losing our mate, and you almost took him from us. For shame, old man.” Fred said.

“Don’t tamper with nature, and it won’t come back to bite you.” George added.

“Do we really want his mind to tear itself apart before we test our items?” Fred asked his twin conversationally.

“Not particularly, no.” George answered just as lightly.

“Hrm. We should cancel this, then.”

They cast a synchronized “finite” and watched his face slacken as he panted, recovering from his mental ordeal.

“Um, Harry, one of these pranks,"

“Requires him to be able to stand.” Fred finished his twins sentence.

“Can we get him partially healed?” They asked together.

Harry frowned. “I suppose, but I don't know how to heal him.” He said.

Severus crossed his arms. “I refuse to do it.” He said at Tom's questioning look.

Tom sighed. “Lucius, it would appear we need your wife. Could you fetch her for me?”

Lucius paled. “My Lord, Ladies Parkinson and Bulstrode are with her for tea right now. She'll kill me if I interrupt!”

Tom raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “Then tell her that I must insist.” He said firmly.

Lucius nodded reluctantly, and left the room.

“In the meantime, we do have two that don’t require use of his legs. One is a little gross, though.” Fred said.

“The other is too, but in a different way.” George added.

Harry snorted. “By all means.” He gestured to Dumbledore.

Fred pulled out a piece of taffy. “This is our new laxative;”

“Called U-Go-Poo!” George added enthusiastically. “The problem is,”

Fred put it in Dumbledore’s mouth and pointed his wand between his eyes. “Chew and swallow. It causes horrible cramping and there is no time to get to a loo.” He finished as Dumbledore swallowed.

About three minutes later, Dumbledore flushed in shame as he was wracked with horrible pain and began expelling the contents of his bowels. He curled in on himself and Fred sighed.

“The pain is still there.” George mused. “How are we supposed to fix it?”

Fred shook his head. “I’m not sure.”

“Perhaps work some stomach soothers into the creation? Peppermint or ginger might be good choices.” Severus suggested.

“Maybe.” Fred said thoughtfully.

They cleaned him just as Narcissa came into the room, followed by Lucius, who had his head hung low.

“What did you need, My Lord?” She asked, all business.

“Could you heal Dumbledore’s broken leg? Only partially, mind you. He needs to be able to use it, not be free from pain for doing so.” Tom stipulated.

Narcissa sighed. “I suppose that’s within my abilities.” She knelt and cast a quiet charm, then nodded. “He can use it and put weight on it, but it will not be pleasant in the least.” She said. “Now if you can all behave without me, I was in the middle of a delightful chat.” She sent everyone a stern glare before leaving.

George smiled. “Great! First the hat, do you think?”

Fred nodded. “Yes, let’s see if we worked it out.”

They put a hat on his head, and his head turned invisible.

“Headless hats!” Fred declared.

“Only...” George took the hat off, and Dumbledore’s face was dotted with a few boils. “Well, it’s less boils than last time.”

“Progress. We’re on the right track.” Fred decided. He pulled out a pair of shoes from his pocket and resized them. They were huge.

“These will size to fit you.” George told Dumbledore as Fred changed him into the shoes and helped him stand.

“Say ‘dance.’” Fred ordered him.

“Dance.” Dumbledore said in a monotone.

The shoes began moving, and the rest of his body followed suit, Dumbledore wincing and groaning in pain, occasionally crying out as one of his swollen joints moved in a particularly painful way.

“Teach me to dance dancing shoes!” George said. “You’ll be the life of the party with these! They can even make him dance!”

“It will be less painful if your joints and leg aren’t impaired, of course.” Fred added at people’s sceptical looks.

They eventually tired of watching him and told him how to deactivate the shoes, then changed him to a different set. “We got this idea from Harry. Say ‘on.’” George said.

Dumbledore looked pained. “On.” He whispered in dread.

The boots activated and raised him ten feet in the air before his legs parted and the boots spun him in several different directions very quickly. He looked a bit sick when he finally stopped. Then one boot stopped working and his leg began to dangle, looking very uncomfortable.

“Hoverboots. Clearly we have some kinks to work out yet.” Fred mused.
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The Slytherin Prince