To the Lovely Pain Au Chocolat and Elelith.

I'm lazy, I know, sorry .. Also, life sucks.

"So, the entire summer to ourselves," Harry murmured

"Yeah, wonderful, right?

"Is there anything you want to do?"

Tom looked over at Harry, seeing the slight fidget and the flush rolling up from his neck and across his face.

"You don't have to have sex with me just because it's the summer and you want me to stick around. Are you sure you weren't in Slytherin, buying favors?" Tom snapped.

"Well.… I don't want to buy anything, but I really appreciated what you did the night Abraxas poisoned me with that lust potion, I feel, grateful and very thankful and euphoric that you would respect my boundaries. You're old enough now, I think, that your decision should matter indefinitely. There were things that you did when you were younger, that I recognized. Things that would lead to this, and I was afraid to come to this point. I just wanted to be with you. But I really can't resist it much longer. I love you, nothing is going to change that, and if you-"

But he was cut off, because Tom reached over and pulled the older man over him, kissing him fiercely, running his hands through Harry's hair and sighing in contentment. That was all the consent Harry needed, because in the next moment, he was devouring Tom. Devouring the younger boy with such a fever that all Tom could do was relax against the couch and breathe, because Harry was there; in front of him, literally sucking the air out of his lungs as he bit and pulled and licked Tom's battered lips.

Harry pushed them to the side, his hands trailing up Tom's shirt, his lips and tongue and teeth making a path across Tom's face and then to his neck, harsh, horrible bites followed by warm, soothing touches of Harry's tongue as the shirt Tom had been wearing suddenly made its way over the younger boy's head, Harry's mouth there one moment and back the next as he barely took a breather.

Assaulting the younger man as he left marks and bruises on his neck, forcing blood to the skin, knowing no one would be able to track him down for this, no one here, no one in the muggle world would suspect him, not now, not ever. It was only Dumbledore now, but if Dumbledore knew better, he'd know to stay out of the way.

But those were thoughts for another time, and Harry keened when he heard the sinful sounds come from Tom's mouth. The pants, the gasps, the whines, the moans, the groans, everything he couldn't have had while at Hogwarts. Not in this time, not when Tom when was so young, but everything that brat Arcturus took advantage of, and damn if Harry wasn't jealous.

He ground down against the younger, blue eyed boy, swallowing the shout that came with the pleasure, Pleasure he had inflicted on the future dark lord, his future dark lord, the one who held so much power at his command. His little Tom Tom, all his. Harry kissed his way back up the boy's throat, biting and soothing, biting and soothing as he trailed his tongue in a line with his lips. His hands rolling Tom's nipples as they peaked under the pressure.

Tom. Tom could feel it all, but he couldn't. Arcturus had been...enthusiastic, but this. He couldn't explain this. This was ownership. This was possessing someone, while playing their body like a fined tuned instrument. Tom couldn't tell up from down, the bed from the ceiling, or even if he was laying still. It was something Tom had felt before, like Harry was staking a claim on him, finally sealing his ownership over Tom. The ownership he'd gained the day Harry had pulled Tom out of the orphanage, and never thought to leave the younger man again. Tom knew the claim would stick, wanted it to stick, above all else this was what he'd wanted for years now..

He could feel Harry's hands on him. Could feel the sharp hits of pain as the man bit him, where ever he chose, because really, when could he deny his Harry. Then he felt the soothing of that sinful tongue, and he felt like he was floating on water. Woosh. Whossh whossh. Harry made his head spin, made his breathing hard to control, and his cock harder than he ever remembered it being, so hard it was hard to decide which was more important, relief or breathing, but then, holy fucking hell, then, Harry rolled his hips and Tom swore his vision blacked out. His breathe caught and he wondered for a second if he'd ever be able to breathe again.

Then, it happened again and again and Tom realized he was singing, and perhaps a litany would be a better description. A litany of Harry's name and Oh God's, and fucks as the older boy grinded against him. His mouth still on Tom's neck, well any part of Tom's body he could reach. His chest, his nipples his stomach, and then Harry was moving down his body, moving with the intent. An intent that Tom didn't recognize because he was usually the one exhibiting it.

Harry was warm though, warmer than Tom had ever felt him, and it turned him on beyond what he could imagine. Harry was on top of him, pushing against him, hot sweaty, sexy as fuck and all his. No one else, not Abraxas, and certainly not Lord Fucking Grindlewald would ever have this. This was all Tom's and as he leaned up and pulled Harry into a kiss with a whimper from the older man, he knew it was true. Harry was his. There was no discretion about it. The man was loyal like that.

He kissed though; he kissed and bit back, running over Harry's bruised lips with his tongue, fighting for a dominance that would never exist between them, because really, they were like two sides of the same coin. One day, it would be one way, and well, depending on how the coin fell, the next day would differ. He trailed his hands along the green eye'd man sides, sliding his fingers into Harry' hair, gripping and releasing at his leisure, enjoying the mewling sounds, the older boy made when Tom pulled his hair, threaded it through his fingers and jerked, pulling Harry closer, trying to devour him, like Harry had devoured Tom, trying to own him, but Tom already knew that he was Harry's.

Harry's mouth left him though, and his fingers replaced those sinful lips, and for a moment, Tom wondered why, but his thoughts were swept away by thrusts, and sweat, and slickness and Harry rocked him back into the couch, one hand slinking down to wrap around his dick, slight touches, only enough to tease. And Tom thought it was going to kill him as he tried to meet Harry thrust for thrust, to squeeze just a little bit harder here and there and bring him some kind of release as he moaned incoherently around the fingers in his mouth. Then the fingers were gone and something wet and cold touched his ass, and suddenly it clicked like that beautiful memory for your first patronus. He moaned, loudly, and his legs fell open, offering Harry all the room he could need as Tom shifted slightly on the couch.

Harry whispered something and Tom realized that the fingers probing at him had gotten slightly more slicker, perhaps Harry had just done that to keep Tom's mouth occupied, or maybe he thought it enjoyable and was imaging Tom's mouth on other appendages of his body, mostly his hard cock that was pressing against Tom's thigh as the boy pushed against one of Harry's fingers.

Begging in the only way he knew how, incoherently, loudly and through whimpers and moans, that he wanted more, and he wanted it now.

Harry looked down at Tom, wondering, forever would he be wondering, how this was Voldemort's past. This sneaky, mischievous, loveable hellion, who was so ridiculously handsome most people considered it a power in and of itself. He drank in the sight of Tom on his back, his leg's spread; his legs wide open, inviting, inviting Harry to take him and own his body like Tom owned Harry's heart.

Then Tom's hands came up and caressed his face and Harry felt his heart skip a beat. The tenderness, the love, something that he had rarely associated with Tom. The boy was loveable and affectionate, but he was never out right loving, yet here. Here it was, and Harry realized that this is where he was supposed to be. He was supposed to be with Tom, because even the cruelest man in history had needed someone to love him, and so Harry would. He worked one finger in and Tom held his breathe, slow, shuttering moans leaving his body as Harry stretched him.

Harry could tell that Tom was pushing himself, and that it hurt, but Harry also knew that eventually, that pain would turn into molten hot desire and pleasure, and Tom's enthusiasm wasn't helping the ridiculously small amount of self control he had left; if there was any at all after the seven long years of sexual tension at Hogwarts.

He slowed his movements down, knowing he was torturing Tom past a point he knew the boy probably couldn't handle, but rather blacked out from pleasure than pain, by the time he had three fingers in, Tom was sweating, and moaning, and incoherent didn't even describe the type of animalistic urgency the younger boy had as he forced his legs to the sides and shoved himself down on Harry's fingers. Gasps and moans happening at once, too loud to contain himself, too loud to catch his breath.

"You sure you want this Tom?"

"What a time to ask, fuck yes,"

"How much?"

"A lot! Fuck, Harry please,"

"How much is a lot, Tom,"

"Anything, Harry, fucking anything, just don't stop,"

Harry moved forward, his lips brushing against Tom's cheek before they were caressing his ear as the man whispered, "So if I wanted to pull you off this couch and drag you to the floor with me, you'd go down on me, and then ride me afterwards once you'd made me wet enough for you?"

Tom couldn't agree or disagree with words, so instead he pushed a very surprised and smug Harry off the couch and onto his back, climbing across his legs to get Harry's hard cock into his mouth, slurping and sucking for all he could as he held the man's hips down, it was messy and hot, and totally wild as Tom thrust against one of Harry's legs, sucking and moaning at the same time, not knowing when to stop, but not willing to either.

Then there were hands in his hair, first rubbing, then grabbing and then painfully there as Harry pulled Tom up to his face, his kisses messy and urgent, tasting himself on Tom's tongue as the boy seated himself on Harry's pelvis, grinding down and waiting, wanting Harry to be in him like his fingers were minutes before, the hollowness was driving him crazy. He wanted Harry.

"Now, fuck now, Harry, please, please, fuck please." Tom whispered fiercely, lapsing into parseltongue.

"Have you ever done this with someone else?"

"No, I was saving that for you,"

With those words, Harry went wild, his hands leaving Tom's hair, all his focus going to lining himself up at Tom's entrance, trying not to rush the boy down his length, but fuck it was warm and Tom was so fucking tight, and just those words from Tom's mouth were driving Harry absolutely crazy with a need he'd never experienced before.

Then Tom's ass was seated fully on Harry's pelvis and they were both there, Paradise had been achieved and when Tom set his hands on Harry's chest and bounced up, the older man's eyes rolled back and his head followed soon after, the pleasure coursing through his body almost unbearable.

Harry's eyes opened soon after though, slightly disorientated before he realized that Tom was twining their fingers together and holding Harry's hands down against the bed, eye level to the older boy as Tom rode him hard and fierce, his hands squeezing Harry's so tight, the older boy was sure he'd lose feeling in them soon.

"Do you like it, Harry?" Tom hissed, the sibilant words rolling over Harry in a way he couldn't have imagined, he would never be able to talk to the boy in parseltongue again.

"Yes...yes, Tom,"

"No one's ever going to touch you besides me,"


"Say it, Harry," Tom said with a harsh thrust, grinding himself down on the older boy, watching as Harry lost his breath and his eyes went unfocused.

"No one else is ever going to touch me, Tom," Harry panted.

"You're mine."

"You're mine, Tom,"

"Yea, I am," the boy answered softly, and Harry could feel a slight pressure where their hands were interlocked. He squeezed back and answered,

"I'm yours, ride me like you actually want it," Harry said with a smirk. He moved his hands out of Tom's hold and rested them on the younger boy's hips, pushing down harshly as he thrust his hips up.

Tom leaned forward, and it wasn't long before Harry had his feet planted on the bed for leverage as he thrust harshly into the younger boy while Tom slammed down on him.

Then Harry's hand was around Tom's dick, pulling and rubbing and doing things to Tom he didn't know where possible before he was coming on their stomachs, sweat mingling with cum as Tom tried to keep up with Harry, tried to give him as much pleasure at the older boy had given him, and when Harry tensed up and choked out Tom's name, the Slytherin knew he'd succeeded.

Things went on normally after that, but it was weird and at the same time natural that things just turned sexual. Having a relationship with Tom was just as easy as it had been before the sex, which was surreal, because Harry had thought it would have gotten really awkward really quickly.

It seemed he'd been missing a lot though, because now he recognized the glances Tom threw him, or the way he licked his lips, the way Harry could tell that all Tom really wanted to do most of the time was kiss Harry until he quieted.

It all had that type of surrealness. Like it was happening but it wasn't. It was almost like Harry fell asleep that night and didn't wake up again. Tom was loving and affectionate and there. Constantly. He ignored all contact from his friends, just burning letters or throwing them away without a second glance. It was so hot and cold. Like Tom had kicked one bad habit just to start a new one.

He went from being enraptured by the Slytherins to being enraptured by Harry. Going from ignoring his love to ignoring what had separated them, however briefly. It was so manipulative and precise Harry realized how this man could be Voldemort. How he was well on his way, but love made people do stupid things, and even though Harry would stand by Tom almost through anything, it made him put his guard down. Tom was all he saw.

And in this time, that's all he really needed. He still received letters from Grindelwald but taking a note from Tom's book, he just burned the letters. Not really caring what the dark lord had to say. Tom was in his grasp now, and as long as that was so Gellert really didn't have a place. Especially not between him and Tom.

Touches were bold, kisses were fleeting, and it was passionate. Harry hadn't realized Tom could do Passion. But there was a lot of take out nights that occurred because the younger boy would decide to jump Harry in the kitchen. Harry's birthday came and went and he hadn't realized sex could get any better until it had.

But then the foreboding came, Hogwarts started soon. They could continue their behavior, but the familiarity and sensuality between them couldn't be denied. It was going to be hard. To fake not wanting to hug Tom or kiss him or give him detention just so they could fulfill some of the dirty fantasies Tom liked to distract him with right before sex. To get the arousal going. It would be hard, Harry knew that, but he was going to try and appear as normal as possible even though he and Tom were anything but.

The first day back was horrible, being able to look but not touch all day. To realize how annoyed Tom was with his former friends as they hounded him for information, especially Arcturus who looked like a wounded puppy. Harry knew the mutt had vicious teeth though.

He was expecting Tom for dinner the first day after the sorting, but he didn't turn up until late.

For Tom, it was really weird to go from having all these people in his life, practically worshipping the ground he walked on, which he really did want to continue occurring in his life. To have everyone asking for his advice, regarding him with respect, in envy of his power, like the Slytherins did, like Gellert's people did.

To having everyone that had been so up his ass to now be giving him the cold shoulder, to show respect to him but also distain. He realized he was being labeled a traitor amoung his former acquaintances, but that was all right, because one day, they'd all be back under him again, so it didn't really matter.

But, for now, Harry was more important, Harry had been there from day one and Harry was finally giving him what he wanted and he wouldn't give that up for the world right now. Not even for his dream, well, actually he would, but he knew he could achieve his dream at a different time and Harry was in the here and now. And because of that, he was going to do something to protect what he had, to prove to the one man that doubted him since the day they'd met that he wasn't as big of a lost, evil cause as Dumbledore thought he was. Even, if he didn't believe Tom, the younger would stick it out, whether he had something to prove or not, because that's just what Harry did to him.

He made him stupid.

Dumbledore looked up as someone knocked at his door, he beckoned them in and was surprised to see Tom Riddle come through his double doors; he set aside his work and offered the younger man a benign smile.

"My dear boy, how can I help you?"

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Professor Dumbledore, but Harry and I thought I should share with you something I got caught in the middle of."

Dumbledore's thoughts took off on their own accord, his first conclusion that this was going to be a trap, but he humoured the younger man.

"What would that be, exactly, Mister Riddle?"

"Grindlewald, sir, he's obsessed with my guardian and I'm afraid that I got in with the wrong sort, but I want to help now, I want to be able to help stop that man from terrorizing people."

"Tell me more, Mister Riddle," Dumbledore implored as he leaned back and stroked his fiery beard.

Perhaps, as well as Mr. Riddle could manipulate others, he was just as easily in their position when it came to his guardian.

This, this was the chance Dumbledore needed to figure out who this Harry Potter was. The man who had appeared out of nowhere and taken the wizarding world by storm, quietly, but powerfully. There were very few people who did not know who the green-eyed man was by name. Not many people knew much more, besides Tom, that is, and here the boy was, willingly walking into his office to offer information.

Of course, Tom thought it was a different kind then Dumbledore intended to get from him.