Disclaimers: Refer to the first page.
A/N: Thank you all for your reviews. I had never expected to receive so many. Hope it will be the same for this chapter. As for the plot (how Harry get the scar and so on, wait and read for yourself). On with the story.
That was the only word to describe the scene. It was one that many would only expect to see in the news. One that everyone prayed never to experience.
It was a meadow. Three small typhoons were circling around the area, uprooting the plants and trees. They left behind trails of destruction. Strangely, the three typhoons were always circling in the same area, the meadow. It was as if they could only exist there.
Not far away, was a very beautiful blue lake. It was so calm that the water did not seem to flow. Occasionally, the mouths of the fishes living in the lake would make an appearance. It was only then that ripples appeared.
Besides the deceptively calm lake was a huge boulder. Half of it was buried in the ground. The surface of the boulder was surprisingly smooth. It would look inviting to any passer-by.
Despite the bizarre contrast of the area, a teenage boy sat on the boulder, his back to the chaotic scene. There was not an ounce of fear in his stance at all. In fact, he seemed to be deep in his own world. He blended in so well with the weird world that he looked like a part of it.
The heat from the blazing sun should be unbearable to any living things. Yet the licks of the heat were comfortable to the boy. They felt like the caresses of a mother's gentle hand on his skin – caresses that he did not remember experiencing.
Harry closed his eyes, silently enjoying the warmth of the sun on his face. There was a very small smile on his lips. Instead of the mask he had chosen to wear while facing the world, his true feelings were exposed for this strange world to see.
Just at that second, something in this world shifted. The typhoons slowed and died out. The black clouds hid the sun, pushing the world into the dark. The fishes in the water seemed to have disappeared; none swam to the surface.
Any ordinary humans would have been frightened or, at the very least, confused by the sudden change. A sane witch or wizard would have brought out their wand and stood on guard. Harry was neither of those. He was dubbed 'the boy-who-lived' by the wizarding world for supposedly surviving the killing curse. If someone asked him, the real him and not the one he portrayed to the world, he would most probably tell that person that no, he was not a sane person. How could he be sane when he was a walking contradiction of himself? He had the cunning mind of the Slytherin but the heroic instinct of a Gryffindor. It would be fine if he could incorporate both together but no, he never seemed to succeed. His mind had always been calculative and selfish. This did not go well with his need to save all those in trouble. The only thing they had in common is the question of his survival…..or was it the lack of it? His mind would never let him choose death consciously or otherwise and his survival instinct was strong, too strong.
At this moment though, both seemed to have taken a vacation. Normally, he would have been on alert at the sudden change of the contrasting world of his mind. Yet he couldn't seem to care enough. His stance never changed.
The gentle wind carried with them the faint sound of a voice calling him. They felt like soft lips upon his face.
"Who are you?" Harry asked softly, his eyes still close. He received no answer just like the few times before.
The wind was moving southward. It was fast becoming solid, materializing as a pair of hands. They left behind a path of delightful fire on Harry's skin. He felt very exposed despite the clothes.
The vulnerabilities finally brought his defensive walls back to life. He struggled to get away from the hands. His eyes opened…..
…..to the sight of the dull ceiling above him.
Blinking wearily, Harry sat up on the small bed. He was still in the second bedroom in the Dursleys' house. A sigh of frustration escaped his lips. Cradling his head, Harry tried to slow down his racing heartbeat. As they slowed to the normal rate, his body calmed down as well. A scowl appeared on his face.
His arousal did not sit well with him. He understood that wet dreams were normal to boys his age but he knew that he wasn't dreaming. He was spending some relaxing time in his mind and someone intruded on his time alone. The only person with a link to his mind was his biological father but he seriously doubted it's him. The presence felt very sexual, not fatherly or whatever that could be used to describe the Dark Lord's feelings towards him.
This was not the first time. It had occurred several times in fact. Each time, the presence felt more….solid…..real. Harry frowned in confusion. It was very disturbing – the thought that the natural defences of his mind was being breached by an anonymous person. Ligilimens – he could deal with. His Occlumency skills might not be the best but neither were they as disastrous as he portrayed them to be. However, this was not something he recognized; an unknown threat left him helpless. It was not a feeling he welcomed.
Feeling very insecure all of a sudden, Harry got up from the bed and walked over to the window. He remembered them being barred in his second year. The state they ended up in quickly convinced his uncle against the same action. That did not mean the end of the verbal cruelty though, or the near physical abuse.
Looking out, his eyes immediately searched for the hidden order member. The sun might not have appeared fully but that was not the reason he couldn't find what he was looking for. Instead of increasing his anxiety, he was relieved. He knew that whoever was sent to 'look after' him would be well-hidden. If he could actually see someone in hiding, then he had a cause to be alarmed. Just imagining the fit his aunt and uncle would throw was enough to drive him to homicide.
Harry could have sworn that the room quivered at the bellow from his uncle.
"Get down this instant or you won't be getting any meal!"
The threat he had received almost every morning he lived in this house brought a smile onto his face. It was not that he loved to hear all these threats or actually had them carried out, but the familiarity that he needed to calm his nerves. Routine meant that he was safe…..for now.
Unwilling to make his hot-tempered uncle wait a second longer due to what would be coming his way, Harry scrambled out of the room. If he had taken a second to glance at the mirror, he would have seen the disappearing mark on his forehead and he would have figured out what was happening to him.
The lids snapped open to reveal a pair of intense eyes. Without moving an inch from the position he was in on the comfortable chair behind the antique table, he silently spelled the door open.
A smartly dressed house-elf was waiting patiently just outside. As soon as the door opened, Nenet bowed respectfully before taking a step into the room. A tray of steaming food and drink floated behind her.
"Leave it," Severus ordered curtly.
Without further ado, Nenet left the room as soon as the tray was safely on the table. Having served her current Master for nearly ten years, she knew well enough that he was not a merciful man. He certainly did not tolerate tardiness, especially among his house-elves.
Just as the door closed behind the well-mannered house-elf, Severus closed his eyes once again. He went through the events that had happened inside the dream-like reality of his young husband's mind.
The natural barrier of Harry's mind was strong. Legilimency would have been the ideal spell to have a glimpse of his mind – provided that he did not have even a scrap of Occlumency skills. That was out of the question though. Fist, Legilimency needed eye contact which he was not able to make at this time. Second, he wished to familiarize his young husband to his presence, not to cause a bigger rift.
Using the mind bond between them, he went into Harry's mind. It was a trying process. The distance between them was only a small part of the reason. It was mostly due to the chaotic state his husband's mind was in. Add in the natural barrier, it took him three trials before he succeeded in connecting their minds together. Today was the seventh successful attempt.
The progress between them was severely disappointing. He hadn't even been able to materialize before today. He managed to spend a total of five minutes in Harry's mind before he was kicked back brutally into his own mind. It was frustrating.
The memory of the smoothness of Harry's skin burned in his mind. The warmth of his husband's body lingered on his hand even though he had not touched him physically. Without warning, he felt the temperature of his body rise at an alarming rate. His breath became short and fast. He swore he could hear his own quick heartbeat.
Severus groaned. His mind was so foggy that if asked, he wouldn't be able to tell clearly whether he was in pain or….. Another intent wave hit him hard. From previous experience, he knew he was fighting a losing battle.
Loosening his pants, his right hand took hold of the hard shaft. As his finger wrapped around the enflamed hardness, a deep groan escaped his tightly-closed lips. All inhibitions were thrown out of the window.
"Harry…Harry…" Gasps and groans filled the gloomy study.
Under the table, hidden from view, Severus hand was moving at a fast pace. His hips were thrusting according to the speed he set. The thought of his naked virgin husband was enough to send him over the edge. For the seventh time since he could connect to his new spouse's mind, he shot his load in his pants, all the while screaming, "Harry….!"
It wasn't long before he was hard again. However, like previous, he decided to ignore the condition and bear with it. After all, he would not gain true satisfaction through masturbating. As long as he had found release once, it would not be unbearable.
Spelling himself clean, he started with the inviting food before him. He cleared the plate meticulously. From his table manner, anyone would come to the conclusion that he must have come from a very prominent family. Even the way he held the cup of tea was graceful.
Bringing the steaming cup with him, Severus sat down on the expensive sofa in front of the fireplace. Staring into the blazing fire, he went through his original plan.
According to the timeline of his original plan, Harry should have gotten more comfy with his presence. The flower of trust should have begun to blossom but it was not to be. It was high time he admitted that this plan should be chucked down the drain.
Raising the cup of hot tea, Severus took a sip. His eyes had never left the mesmerizing flames. He settled the cop onto its plate with a 'clink!'
A smile that did not reach his eyes decorated his solemn face. "Perhaps I should just ignore the timeline and maintained the plan." The smile widened. "I accept your challenge, my beloved Harry." The reflection of the blazing fire was mirrored very clearly in his dark eyes. "Before long, you will be mine."
Severus deposited the drink on the small elegant coffee table beside the sofa. Leaning back, he closed his eyes, intending to catch a shuteye before his first meeting as the Dark Heir.
To be continued...
A/N: Review, please!