* This part has been edited to stay within the R-rating rules of ff.net. To read the unedited version copy and remove the excess spaces for the following link to my livejournal: www . livejournal . com / users / ntamara / 68098 . html (And of course, don't forget to review ;)Discoveries 3/4
The majority of Severus' summer holiday was spent at Riddle Mansion. He was summoned almost daily, early in the morning, usually just after breakfast, and then sent back to Hogwarts late in the evening. And although Severus didn't want to admit it, tried not to think about it, it was probably the best summer he'd ever had.
Harry was a pleasure to teach, such a talent at potions. He picked up the practical side so easily, so quickly, they were soon attempting more difficult and complex potions, fiddling around with the simpler ones. It had been so long since Severus had been able to enjoy teaching, so long since he'd truly enjoyed making use of his Potion skills. They made the Wolfsbane potion together – Severus had to reveal the new DADA teacher's identity and condition to Voldemort – and started improving on it. Harry was positively fascinated by dark creatures, and the Dark Lord had Severus tutor him in werewolves, vampires, veelas, Dementors, and all kind of other magical beasts.
In the beginning he was never left alone with Harry, Voldemort was a constant presence, watching his every move. After a while though he would sometimes leave them for part of the day to attend to business of his own, although he left Nagini to keep an eye on the two of them.
He gradually became able to piece the past two years together from the small tidbits of information Harry entrusted him with during their long conversations. Harry confided his loneliness and sense of isolation, the relief at finding Tom's journal and somebody else to talk to, and after Malfoy took the journal, Nagini. His delight in all things magical was obvious, as was his fascination in both dark and light magic.
They got along well and soon Harry was questioning him about Hogwarts. This was a tricky subject; there were a number of things Voldemort did not want Harry to know and the Dark Lord was intent on keeping Harry at Riddle Mansion and happy about it as well. Harry for his part seemed content, if a bit wistful that he couldn't attend the wizarding school.
The relationship between Harry and the Dark Lord was less simple. The level of… intimacy they obviously shared disturbed Severus. He had never remembered Voldemort as being a particularly tactile person, but he was always touching Harry, running his hands through Harry's hair, caressing his cheek, resting his hand on Harry's shoulder or arm. They could have been siblings, and often acted as such, but some of the looks Severus saw the Dark Lord giving Harry did not fit on a brother's face.
Harry himself seemed to enjoy Voldemort's attention, didn't seem the least bit uncomfortable with these touches. From the few things he'd let slip about his life before being kidnapped by Voldemort, Severus gathered that his relatives hadn't been very caring. Harry actually seemed somehow malevolently gleeful by the fact that his double was now spending his summer with the Dursleys. He didn't do much to hide his dislike for his doppelganger, even referred to him as 'Wormtail' for some reason Severus could not discern. While Harry seemed happy to stay with 'Tom', there was still resentment against this other wizard who had stolen his life.
Voldemort appeared to genuinely care for the boy, even if the way he sometimes expressed that care made Severus' hair stand on end. He was always patient, always listened and was interested, like a parent or an older brother. Watching the two often playfully interact Severus had to sometimes forcefully remind himself that Voldemort was nearly seventy years old and not a teenager as his looks would suggest.
This new incarnation of Lord Voldemort was confusing as well. When he was with Harry he was nothing like Severus remembered him, although that power crazy wizard still surfaced from time to time. His cruelty was still there, his delight at playing with a person's mind, hurting people if not physically than at least mentally; it was all still there but seemed tempered somehow by the boy's presence, his influence. There were mood swings, times when the Dark Lord's eyes would be nearly entirely red or green, and sometimes Severus wondered whether the restorative potion Voldemort had taken had really united the two minds or whether they were still separate, fighting for dominance.
It made Severus uneasy, and he was always on guard in the Dark Lord's presence, even more so than he had been in the past. He could never be sure what mood Voldemort would be in, what whim would strike his fancy. At least Voldemort had never touched him in Harry's presence, of that Severus was relieved. And if he were honest with himself, Severus had to admit the sex wasn't bad either. Apart from that first time, Voldemort always made sure Severus was satisfied as well, even if Severus' pleasure was obviously second to the Dark Lord's.
Voldemort had always been a skilful, if demanding and dominant lover, and to his shame Severus found himself looking forward to his visits to Riddle Mansion as much for teaching and spending time with Harry as for sleeping with his Master. It didn't help anything that Albus still used the pensieveritaserum every time he returned to debrief the Headmaster; the humiliation of knowing Albus witnessed the things he did with Voldemort, and the fact that he enjoyed nearly all of it, made him dread their meetings. While at the same time he found himself yearning for Albus' touch and smile, the obvious confidence the Headmaster had in him. Serving two masters is a hell that any traitor, any spy, is sentenced to.
Severus had no illusions as to his position with Voldemort; he was tutor to the Dark Lord's favourite, and he was a convenient body to fuck, a convenient body for Voldemort to satisfy the urges of his teenage body on. Well, better him than a thirteen year-old boy, and he had done far less enjoyable things in his career as a Death Eater and spy for both Voldemort and Dumbledore.
All in all, the summer passed in a deceptively calm and enjoyable manner. Until Karkaroff was captured and Severus was forcibly reminded that whatever soft and caring side Harry seemed to bring out in Voldemort, the man was still a ruthlessly cruel dark wizard.
It was in the afternoon of one of the last days of August, Hogwarts would be starting soon and Severus was busy making lesson plans while he had Harry making potions. They were alone, except for Nagini of course, who was coiled up in a corner apparently sleeping. Severus distractedly looked up when Voldemort came down the stairs. He was looking entirely too pleased with himself and Severus had a very bad feeling all of a sudden.
Voldemort ignored him, instead went straight to Harry and began talking to him in a soft voice, in parseltongue, so it wasn't as if he could understand them anyway. Sometimes Severus got the impression that Harry didn't even realise he was speaking a different language, but he had the distinct feeling that this was another topic Voldemort didn't want Severus to speak with Harry about.
They seemed to be arguing for a while, until finally Harry relented and accepted a flask of something or other from Voldemort. Now Severus was watching with interest, and he tried unsuccessfully to identify what it was the Dark Lord made Harry drink. Voldemort put the empty vial away in his robes and then led Harry to the stairs, Nagini at their heels. He paused briefly to address Severus.
"Clean up here and meet me at the front doors in five minutes. Bring your strongest healing potions."
"Yes, my Lord."
Severus wondered what was going on, that uneasy feeling growing rapidly. What would Voldemort want healing potions for? Why would he have drugged Harry? This boded nothing good.
Ten minutes later he was still waiting at the front doors when Voldemort finally appeared. His eyes were burning crimson and there was a malevolent look on his face. He led them outside and up the hill, to the Riddle family graveyard. All the time he said nothing, a charged anticipatory silence between them.
Obediently Severus held out his left arm, bared the Dark Mark, and Voldemort pressed the tip of his wand against it as he whispered 'Morsmordre'. So, a full Death Eater meeting. The second since Voldemort's return, if there had been any others Severus wasn't aware of it.
It was a warm and sunny afternoon, the wrong setting for the figures in black cloaks and white masks, but this only added to his growing sense of foreboding. Severus knew he'd been correct in his fears when the last Death Eater apparated into the circle and dumped an unconscious body before the Dark Lord's feet. Karkaroff had been captured.
"Take off your masks; let me see the faces of my loyal servants."
Severus saw that it had been Lucius who had brought Igor, and he quickly scanned the faces around him. They were all hardened dark wizards and witches enough to not betray their feelings, but the tension and unease among them all was nonetheless palpable.
Voldemort toed the unmoving body, and then flipped Karkaroff over with his foot. Severus was reminded of a similar scene only a short two months ago. Somehow he didn't think Igor was going to get away as easily as he had. The Dark Lord drew his wand and pointed it at the unconscious figure.
Karkaroff moaned and blinked; he pushed himself halfway upright and started looking around himself in confusion.
He saw who he was surrounded by, saw Voldemort towering over him, and froze, his face turning an ashen white in terror.
"My Lord…" he managed to croak but Voldemort already moved his wand again, his face contorted in a disgusted sneer.
Karkaroff screamed and thrashed on the ground. Voldemort only held the spell on him for a few seconds before he lifted it. Igor was panting, shivering, and his eyes darted about looking for help, a way of escape. There was none and Severus took care to keep his face a mask, to not bring Igor or Voldemort's attention to Igor's old friend.
"Why did you not come when I called for you, Igor? Why did you ignore my summons last June, and every other summons I have sent you since?"
"Let me guess," the Dark Lord was prowling around the trembling man, his voice hissing in the way only a parseltongue can manage.
"You betrayed me, betrayed your brothers and sisters to the aurors, to Azkaban, in order to save your worthless hide. And when I returned you feared my wrath and fled from the cushy position you obtained for yourself at Durmstrang. Am I right?"
"My Lord, please, forgive me, I –"
Voldemort was kneeling down next to Karkaroff; he had gripped the Death Eater's chin so tightly Severus knew he would leave bruises on the man's jaw. Not that it mattered considering the only way this could end.
"You should have come to me when I called, Igor. I might have let you repay the debt you owe me. However, I do not forgive, and I will not forget." With that he pushed the man away roughly and stood up, his wand pointing down at the man.
"Master!" Karkaroff implored and then he was screaming again as Voldemort cast Cruciatus once more. He kept it on him for more than a minute this second time, and when he lifted it Karkaroff was sobbing, blood was running from his mouth where he'd bit his lips and tongue. The Death Eater was panting, sobbing, babbling for mercy. Voldemort let him recover slightly before casting the curse again. This time he didn't lift the curse until Karkaroff blacked out.
"Severus, revive him."
Feeling sick, Severus knelt down next to the white haired man and forced a potion to revive him down his throat, and another to prevent the poor man from losing consciousness again. Karkaroff didn't stop crying and he crawled toward Voldemort begging for mercy.
"Please, Master, no more, please, no more, please, Master."
Voldemort let him grovel for a while and then looked around the circle of Death Eaters, scrutinizing them all ruthlessly. His eyes stopped on MacNair and he stepped back, pulled the hem of his robes from Karkaroff's reach.
"Show us what you've learnt over the past eleven years, Walden."
Severus kept his face impassive, forced himself to watch as MacNair grinned and took out knives and other sharp implements that were hidden within his robes. He realised that this was not so much punishment for Igor's cowardice and treachery, as an example for the rest of them as to where they should keep their loyalty.
Severus let his eyes wander around the circle, examining the reactions of his fellow Death Eaters. They all seemed impassive, although some of them showed their fear and disgust more than others. He tried to block out Igor's screams, tried to not reveal his own feelings as MacNair cut away at him, severed fingers and toes, emasculated him with the flick of a wrist and a particularly cruel looking knife.
All the while Voldemort watched Karkaroff suffer, had Severus dose the man with healing potions when it seemed he came too close to oblivion. The Dark Lord's eyes blazed crimson and his face was flushed.
Finally Voldemort called MacNair off and he knelt down next to his servant again, almost gently wiped the bloodstained hair away from Karkaroff's face. Those pale blue eyes focused on Voldemort and seemed to plead for mercy, for death. Only an eerie rasping came from his throat, his vocal cords had long since been shredded by his screaming. Voldemort pressed the tip of his wand under the man's chin.
Karkaroff convulsed, pink froth appeared on his lips and his eyes rolled back in his head showing only the whites. His body spasmed for nearly a minute before it went rigid and then stopped moving. There were no other sounds than some birds flying past as Voldemort stood up and casually wiped the dirt off his robe. His wand was still in his hand, idly twirling in his fingers. He looked around the circle, caught each and every gaze.
"I do not forgive, I will not forget. You all owe me eleven years of your lives, be grateful that I give you the chance to repay me. You know what to do. Dismissed.
Oh, and Walden, get rid of the body. Preferably somewhere… public."
"Of course, my Lord," the repulsive man said and he gathered the bloody remains together before disapparating with the others. Severus remained alone with Voldemort.
The Dark Lord turned and walked back to the house at a brisk pace, Severus followed him, desperately trying to calm his churning stomach. Torture sessions such as these had been one of the reasons for him to rethink his alliance with Voldemort, one of the reasons he had been so grateful to Dumbledore for giving him a chance to redeem himself and maybe even escape this nightmare.
Once inside Voldemort continued up the stairs; Severus followed, still apprehensive. He had recognized the flushed look on Voldemort's face. He remembered the way the Dark Lord used to get after witnessing or participating in torture like that, and he had been fully expecting to be shoved up against a wall and taken hard. A small part of him was slightly disappointed when this did not happen, while the major part of him was becoming increasingly worried.
They entered Voldemort's bedroom, it was the first time Severus had entered it in over a decade; until now all of their 'trysts' had occurred either in the lab, the kitchen, the library, or occasionally one of the spare bedrooms. Severus' gut clenched when he saw Harry lying in the Dark Lord's bed, asleep with Nagini coiled half around him. The snake stirred when Voldemort sat down on the side of the bed. They talked in parseltongue for a while as he pushed aside Harry's hair from his forehead and then bent down to kiss the scar.
Having apparently convinced himself that Harry was well and still in a drug induced slumber, Voldemort stood up, hissed some last instructions to his familiar, and indicated Severus to follow him out of the room again. They went into one of the rooms further down the hall. They had used it before, and Severus looked expectantly at the Dark Lord, awaiting instructions. He tried not to think about Harry sleeping in Voldemort's bed and the evidence in the room that indicated this was not an uncommon occurrence.
Voldemort stood in the centre of the room and his eyes were a blazing crimson again; they had been flecked with green while checking on Harry. The corners of his lips tugged into a small smirk and he held out his hand.
"Your wand, Severus."
Severus swallowed but did not hesitate to hand over the thin piece of wood. Voldemort looked at the wand. He examined it for a moment before tucking it into one of the sleeves of his robes. He crossed his arms and leaned back against the bedpost.
Lowering his eyes Severus methodically undressed. He did not rush, but neither did he draw it out; he knew the Dark Lord did not so much want a striptease as to assert his dominance, his mastery. If there was one thing Voldemort was a master in it was in playing mind games such as these, forcing people to submit, to be unable to deny their servitude.
When Severus was naked, his clothes lying on the floor around him, he raised his eyes again to meet Voldemort's gaze, awaiting further instructions. Voldemort raked his eyes over him, making Severus shiver under that appreciative look, making him harden slightly more. He was already half erect.
Severus knew he wasn't ugly, but he was also aware he was certainly not what one would consider conventionally handsome. He was content with his body, it served him well, pleased him well enough. He had had three lovers in his lifetime, Voldemort had been the first, had given him confidence in his appearance, his skills. Only to later strip him of that confidence, but then Albus had been there to restore it. And many years later, even though he'd neglected himself after Albus, there had been Quentin who had been kind and loyal and had not had a duplicitous bone in his body… Severus closed his eyes a moment, forcing himself to focus on the present; it would not do to displease the Dark Lord by not giving him Severus' full attention.
"Down on your knees, Severus, and worship your Master." Voldemort's voice was a husky whisper, his eyes blazing crimson and an imperious smile on his lips. Severus nodded and carefully knelt on the wooden floorboards. He kept his eyes on the floor demurely, aware of but ignoring his own, by now, aching arousal.
When he reached Voldemort he looked up and placed his open hands on either side of the Dark Lord's legs; Voldemort parted his robes and nodded, allowing Severus to undo his trousers. Carefully Severus opened Voldemort's pants, reached inside his underwear and proceeded to worship him with his mouth. He used all his skill, taught to him many years ago by this same man. He used his tongue, his teeth, his hands and it briefly flashed through Severus mind that he probably knew Voldemort's body and reactions better than his own.
It was of course all part of the game; Severus naked and unarmed, completely at Voldemort's mercy, on his knees before the man; Voldemort armed with two wands, and completely clothed except for his sex that was currently in Severus' mouth. The Dark Lord allowed him the initiative, for a while his hands only played with Severus' hair, carded through the glossy, dark, shoulder length locks. Then it was time to assert dominance again, and his hands fisted in Severus' hair, his hips took control. Severus closed his eyes, tilted his head back as he rested his hands on Voldemort's hips for balance. He relaxed his throat and let himself be fucked and fucked thoroughly. He knew he would be hoarse for the rest of the day.
Voldemort stilled, jerked his hips one last time, and then he was coming and Severus swallowed, suckled on the rapidly softening cock. He nuzzled into the Dark Lord's groin and listened to Voldemort regain his breath.
"On the bed, on your back."
Severus hastily obeyed, wincing at the ache in his knees and the sound of his joints popping. Behind him Voldemort chuckled.
"Getting old, are you, Severus?"
"Unlike you, my Lord," he replied with a rueful smile, for a moment relishing this extremely rare moment of familiar banter between them. He lay back on the soft mattress, aching for release, but Severus knew better than to reach down and give in to the urge: any and all release he obtained would be granted by Voldemort and Voldemort only.
The Dark Lord pulled both their wands out of his sleeve and put them on the bedside table before he proceeded to undress; again a show of dominance, this time displaying his youthful and undeniably beautiful body. Severus could see the Dark Lord was already hardening again, and when Voldemort caught his gaze he smirked.
"The joys of being sixteen."
Voldemort crawled onto the bed toward him as a predator. Severus breath hitched as a hand was wrapped around his leaking prick and Voldemort set a slow rhythm, jerking him off expertly. Closing his eyes Severus purposely relaxed his hands that had fisted in the sheets, trying not to show how much Voldemort's touch affected him. Voldemort chuckled in his ear; Severus could feel his breath against the side of his face and the heat of the other man's body, so close but not touching him anywhere other than the hand wrapped possessively around his sex.
"You are mine, Severus, you belong to me."
"Yes," Severus hissed as he arched up into that teasing grip, bringing him to the edge and then keeping him back.
"Only I can
give you this, can give you what you want, what you need."
me, Severus, beg your Master for release."
"My Lord, ah! Please, Master."
Voldemort kept up a hissing whisper of obscenities and parseltongue, Severus was lost, could only plead and beg and say yes to the Dark Lord's every assertion.
"Dumbledore could not give you what you need –"
"No, Master, only you, only you."
pathetic excuse for a wizard Quirrell."
Severus was going crazy, he writhed on the bed, his hands fisting in the sheets to stop himself from grabbing the Dark Lord and kissing him, pressing himself against that now youthful body. Such liberties were a long time in the past, were from another lifetime. Now Severus ached for more friction, a firmer grip, release. He fought to keep his reserve, because he knew it was the struggle Voldemort wanted to see, that reserve, Severus' control over himself, shattered. Finally Voldemort relented and Severus was arching off the mattress, coming all over his belly, his chest, Voldemort's hand. He shivered and fought to open his eyes again. Blinking Severus looked at Voldemort; the Dark Lord pressed sticky fingers against his mouth and he pulled them in, sucked them and tasted himself. Voldemort took Severus' hand and guided his fingers through the cooling, sticky mess on his body. Then he pulled his fingers free and leaned back against the head board with that amused smirk on his lips.
"Turn around, I want to see you prepare yourself for me." Voldemort lazily reached down and began coaxing himself to full hardness again.
Still shaky from release Severus obeyed, his face now flushing red with humiliation. He pushed himself up onto hands and knees, rested his weight on his left forearm as he reached back to prepare himself. The angle was awkward, and his left arm was soon aching from keeping himself upright, but Severus knew to be grateful for any and all preparation when sleeping with the Dark Lord.
There was movement on the bed, in the corner of his vision; three fingers were pushed into his mouth and Severus obediently sucked and coated them with saliva, twirled his tongue around them until they were removed. More movement on the mattress and then Voldemort had joined him, was opening Severus for his Master.
Voldemort was whispering in his ear again, telling him what an eager slut he was, such a good little whore. Severus could only moan and push back onto their combined fingers. To his surprise he was becoming aroused again; usually he was only good for one go. Suddenly those wonderful fingers were removed, and he was forced onto his back, his knees against his chest. Severus keened at the loss, pulled his legs back and apart even more, feeling vulnerable and needy at the same time.
Sitting back on his legs Voldemort watched him with that amused, superior smile. Severus reached for the Dark Lord imploringly.
The Dark Lord moved in between his legs, leaned down atop him, practically folding Severus double. He teased Severus, only just touching him, and Severus writhed for more, but Voldemort held him effectively pinned.
"Do you want it, Severus?"
"Yes, Master, please, I want it, please, fuck me! Give it to me, my Lord! Fuck me! Fuck me, Lord! Fuck –"
He cried out when Voldemort plunged into him without further ceremony, it hurt and it felt so good. He tried to move with the other man. Voldemort had him folded double, hands gripped his hips so hard they would leave bruises; his ears were filled with muttered obscenities and parseltongue. Severus was once more begging for release, swearing his loyalty, his servitude, Voldemort's ownership.
Voldemort was biting and sucking at his neck and throat, marking him; Severus gripped the sheets so hard he was surprised he did not rip them to shreds as he made sure he did not grip the Dark Lord's hair and force their mouths together. At last a hand grabbed him and pulled viciously. But it was enough and Severus was coming for the second time, his muscles clenching as Voldemort held still and enjoyed the sensation.
Gasping for air and shaky, beginning to feel the cramp in his legs and the burn in his arse, Severus managed to focus on the Dark Lord. Voldemort was still hard and watching Severus slowly recover, watched Severus attempt to shutter his emotions, regain control. Then he began to move, picking up speed and force in his thrusts as he took his pleasure from Severus' body. It seemed to go on forever, until finally Voldemort was coming, still pounding into him, spilling his seed deep within Severus' body and marking him with his bites.
This time seemed to have not left Voldemort as unaffected and he collapsed on top of Severus. A moment to catch his breath and he rolled aside, pulling out and whispering a cleaning charm for himself at the same time. Severus couldn't stop grimacing as he eased his legs back down, as he rode out the cramps.
Voldemort was lying next to him, an almost contemplative look on his face as he started to trace lines on Severus' skin, gently playing with Severus' quiescent and extremely sensitive member. Severus moved slightly to a more comfortable position and watched the Dark Lord; with the afterglow fading questions were rising again.
Glancing up Voldemort caught Severus watching him and he tilted his head, raised an eyebrow. Severus had rarely seen Voldemort so calm and pensive.
"Do you have a question, Severus?"
He had many, of course, and when the Dark Lord offered you accepted. He wanted to ask about Harry sleeping in Voldemort's bed, but even in this mellow mood didn't want to risk the other man's potential wrath.
"Why did you drug, Harry?"
It was a dangerous question to ask, but neutral enough that if it displeased Voldemort he would probably just refuse to answer. Voldemort returned his attention to Severus' groin, started playing with his balls. He was silent for so long and the ministrations were so distracting that Severus had nearly forgotten what he'd asked when the other man started talking in a strangely subdued voice.
"The Killing Curse I cast on Harry when he was a baby left a connection between us, the proof of which is the scar on his forehead. Until I used his blood in the restorative potion Voldemort's presence caused him pain, caused the scar to burn."
Severus gasped and tried not to move into the Dark Lord's touch.
"I haven't yet determined the extent of our connection, although I have some ideas… Whatever the case, the magic I do can affect him; I believe he may even be able to see what I am doing when I am feeling particularly… angry. I did not want to risk him witnessing Karkaroff's punishment."
Voldemort looked up again and met Severus' gaze, secure of his attention considering what he was holding in his hand.
"Harry has suffered enough in his short life so far; I will not let him suffer any more unnecessarily. He is an innocent in some ways, and I do not want to confront him with some of the… harsher aspects of my rule."
Severus nodded; he saw the Dark Lord's contemplative look fade and the familiar leer return. Fingers trailed down behind his balls and were pushed into his still relaxed and wet hole.
"Enough talk. Turn over."
* This part has been edited to stay within the R-rating rules of ff.net. To read the unedited version copy and remove the excess spaces for the following link to my livejournal: www . livejournal . com / users / ntamara / 68098 . html (And of course, don't forget to review ;)