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The Last Drop	By : Anukk Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Voldemort Views: 7928 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-The Last Drop
- 1
Title: The Last Drop
Author: Anukk
Pairing: Harry/Tom, Harry´s POV
Rating: R
Category: Slash, Angst, Darkfic
Keywords: Tom Marvolo Riddle, Death, reborn, blood, Character Death
Timeline: Post-War, Harry´s seventh year
Spoilers: No
Disclaimer: I´m a shameless thief of the characters, that always will belong to JK Rowling alone. I only borrow them to arrange a meet-up for them one more time and then will put them back unharmed. Only the plot has it´s roots in my disturbed brain.
Author´s Notes: Please be gentle when judging the story, this is the first of all firsts for me. My first finished and published fanfiction and it´s a slash-piece. Please notice that my mother-tongue is not english, so expressing everything like I want to is a little bit harder for me. Thanks.
Special Notices: This ficlet is an answer to Passo´s “Sanguine”-Challenge in the HarryXTom-Fuh-Q-Fest. Thanks bunches to my faithful Beta-Reader and HxT-fellow Passo and more people who posted prods into my LJ. This fic would not exist without your encouragement and support.

This is a re-upload of one of my firsts. Eeek...
The Last Drop
By Anukk
The constant humming in my ears finally woke me from my doze, as it did every night of my life since I passed my 16th year. Every time, I tried to clear my sense of hearing from the soft pounding sounds in my ear—but to no avail. It always came to haunt me.

No one has been able to cure me from this “disease.” Not even Madame Pomfrey had been able to come up with a solution or an explanation. Muggles would’ve described it as an annoying noise in one’s ear called “Tinnitus” that can drive you to insanity because once it’s there, it would never leave you again.

In my case, it was almost the same. Since that fateful time last year, when Lord Voldemort was finally defeated by Snape and I, the whisper had been my constant companion. For me, it was a soft after-tremble of the war as it became a piece of history. It was like a caressing hand that lulled me to sleep and, sometimes, an annoying disturbance that woke me from my slumber. It was like a good friend and a reliable partner—It never would leave me and I don’t know if I would want it to.

It really was most alarming.

I couldn’t distract myself with reading a book or practicing a few spells as the light would wake my dorm mates. So, instead, I threw myself back onto the pillows, letting my thoughts drift once more around the possible cause of the constant noise in my head. I don’t know if I was already half-asleep when suddenly, one of the ever-present whispers got louder and more distinct.

Fearful of making the slightest sound lest I provoke it, I instantly held my breath. It wasn’t long before the voice addressed me:

"You asked something.”

The crystal-clarity of that sharp yet tender male voice struck me and I quickly looked around the dormitory to find its source and to also check if some of my mates were awakened by it. Only blackness and silence answered, leaving me in suspense with a pair of tense and sweaty hands.

“Yes, I see that you demand an answer,” the voice spoke up once again, this time seemingly coming from behind my left ear.

“Where… who are you?” I croaked out nervously, voice dull from sleepiness.

A soft chuckle is the next thing I heard, mixed with a soft cool blow on my nape. This felt too real and I couldn’t control the shaking of my breath any longer. I was too scared by my helplessness and by the fact that I didn’t know what would happen next.

“Aw… that’s two questions in one statement. We don’t want to rush it now, do we?!”

The speaker used the teasing tone to calm me, but was met with no success. I could tell that the heavy throbbing of my nervous heart was now visible at my throat, because the next thing I felt was a very light brush against the skin that stretched over that sensitive area. This whisper of a touch oddly calmed me somehow, but the tension remained.

“N-No,” I replied, failing to hide the hoarseness that accompanied my words. I did not dare to turn my head or making a single move that could turn out to be a mistake. So it’s only natural that my eyes started to wander around in panic in my desperation to try to spot the owner of that sensual yet piercing voice. I was able to catch a brief sight of black curls, so very near my face that the stranger’s hair seemed to merge with mine. It contrasted greatly against the whiteness of my sheets, making it more discernible in the darkness of the room.

My night time visitor seemed to enjoy taking his time. He realized my extreme need to know who actually invaded my sleep and my bed. The form suddenly moved, and I felt the mattress shift and saw a shadow wandering across the pillows. Finally, he faced me and revealed the secret of his identity.

At first, my brain didn’t correctly digest what I saw. I seemed to be standing in front of a mirror, only my reflection wore a perfect pallor and a bright smile on his face, while I knew that must look simply shocked and stupid with my mouth gaping open in realization and disbelief.

That particular arrogant move of his right brow that seemed so familiar made me rummage through my brain in search of his identity: This was Tom Marvolo Riddle who sat right in front of me in full possession of a body, a voice, and my full attention.

He seemed to know the exact moment when realization struck me. His grin slowly widened and he spoke up again:

”You can trust your eyes. I’m as real as the moon out there and as substantial as you,” he said and as if to prove his words, he slowly moved his arm to gently cup my chin.

Though his touch felt as cold as ice, I didn’t flinch or move away. He obviously decided to start a staring contest with me and I couldn’t resist that challenge—a chance to study his live and piercing eyes, to look for a hint of weakness that wasn’t there.

Surprisingly, it was him who lost the silent battle.

I decided to test my voice. “But how can this be? Is this a paradox, or some kind of joke?”

His eyes followed my mouth as I spoke. Before I sank deeper into confusion, he interrupted me quickly by lightly brushing a finger across my lips as if to lock them.

“I never left, you know. I guess not everyone truly understands the meaning of immortality, even when it’s such a simple word. I can’t leave. That’s the curse of every immortal being. You’re rooted to earth and the mortals that share it with you. What an irony.”

His dislike for the “mortals” was evident in the way he spat out the word. It dawned on me that he must feel very dependent on them. A Dark Lord…dependent. Very ironic indeed.

“So why not make the best out of this situation?” He smirked at me.

The silence seemed to swallow the room. He was literally, slowly killing me by not satisfying my curiosity. So I decided to take the initiative and chose my words quickly:

”What do you mean exactly? Please explain now, before I fall asleep.”

He was amused by the impertinence of my last words and simply replied, “Oh, I will assure that sleep won’t come to you as long as I’m here.”

Nothing new about the pride, but still this sentence unnerved me and the following explanation only confirmed my suspicion.

“You know, Harry, I am surprised that you never realized it before. That permanent “disease” of yours you have to deal with—especially right after your “won battle” against me—the sleepless nights…

“I’m draining you, Harry. I’m absorbing all the strength, power, and love—all you have to offer through your blood. That noise in your ears is not a simple disease. It’s the rush of your blood and energy that leaves your body and enters mine. It’s the biggest evidence that I’m still here, that my presence is never far away from you.”

I was so shocked and struck by what I heard that I could only stare at him blankly. I briefly shook my head, as if to prepare my brain for the information that my next question would demand.

”But how come I never realized before that it was you?” I asked.

“Do you think I was always in possession of flesh and blood? No, I slowly gained back my appearance by feeding on your energy and emotions. Your emotions are so powerful, uncontrolled, and fierce and that was my big triumph. I was able to restore my body and mind completely.

And now, I am strong enough to materialize before you to make the final move.”

He ended his speech with a voice that dripped of superiority and looked at me expectantly. Of course, I reacted exactly like anyone would have: I abruptly moved to reach my drawer where my wand is stored. But he proved to be quicker than me. Moving faster than my eye could see, he violently grabbed both my wrists with one hand and commanded my wand to him to cast a paralysing spell at me.

It happened all so fast that my head is spun and I almost passed out, but he forced me to focus on his eyes by gripping my chin again and tipping it up slightly to bring our heads on an eye-to-eye-level. My eyes silently ask him what will happen next, and for once, he responds to me.

“For the completion of the magic I worked on you, I will have to take your blood in person. A person’s blood is the very raw and pure essence of magic and energy, and I came for that last drop that will end your existence and close my magical circle.”

The last sentences were whispered in a seductive voice that seemed to be full of anticipation, hunger, and lust. The special soft inhaling sound he made that put me completely and utterly under his spell. He was so very near me that our noses touched. The sudden contact with his cold skin startled me a bit, but also sent a shiver down my spine, making my mouth fall open from the slight shock.

He took advantage of my action and slowly leaned in even more to stop the trembling of my lips by fully covering my them with his cold but soft mouth. To steady my position, one of Riddle’s arms slithered behind me and gently stroked my back. His tongue followed the line of my lips before it claimed the insides of my mouth and savoured my “mortal” tastes.

I’m enveloped in all this gentleness, I completely lost any sense of time when he began to lightly suck the insides of my mouth. It was an incredible sensation, but then he increased the passion, scraping his teeth against my lips until he drew blood. He moaned at the contact of that hot and life-giving liquid. An electric shock seemed to run through him after the first taste of my blood. He then became unstoppable, lapping up the thin trail of blood that threatened to leave my lips and fall down my chin.

“Your adoration is my greatest triumph,” he murmured.

I was left even more confused and was not able to respond to that, because the next thing he did was nibble on my neck, slowly massaging the delicate flesh with his lips and tongue.

At that, I could not hold back a moan any longer and I desperately gripped his arms for support. I could feel an energetic pulse, a sharing that started to drain away my warmth that was produced by Riddle’s gentle caresses.

“The circle is closed now,” he stated simply.

He caught my eyes seriously for one last time before biting down hard and opening my neck’s flesh with sharp teeth to eagerly drink the essence that awaited him there. Initially, it was pure bliss. I captured various sensations, images from his past, emotions from him, being trapped, unloved, left alone, avoided. With the next swallow the rush of violent impressions threatened to burst my brain : Rage, Hatred, Contempt, Loathing… Violence.

The last rush flowed from me and I could see an image of a little boy, dark-haired and green-eyed, standing alone between trees and crying. His tears are red.

Weakly I managed to open my eyes for the last time and looked up at Riddle, who stared down at me with red eyes, showing me my own blood that now flowed through his veins—rich and full with what used to be my power, emotions and, in the last drop, my acceptance and love for him.

-End-
- 1
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The Last Drop