Title: Drunken Desires

Author: Darkmoon666

Pairing: Harry (Joker)/Lord Voldemort

Universe: Vinewood

Timing: In Harry's 6th year, over Yule. He went 'home' rather than staying at Hogwarts. Takes place on the 22nd of December.

Summary: Harry wants to experiment with his and Voldemort's relationship. What better way than to fake being drunk to test the other man? HP/LV Slash {Harry's 6th year.}

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Lord Voldemort… Anything in that world, I don't own. If I did, Ginny would be dead and Harry would be gay. Yay!

He grabbed the sealed bottle and held it up to the light, swishing the clear liquid for traces of contamination. He found none, and hugged the bottle to his chest with one arm as he yanked on the cork with the other hand. The compressed air popped as the cork came free, along with a small trickle of the liquid.

He looked around him and quickly swallowed a gulp of the alcohol; his throat burned as it slid down his throat, causing him to gasp. He dumped more than half of the remaining liquid into one of the potted plants, and hoped that the alcohol didn't kill the plant before his plan was up.

Steeling himself, he took another mouthful of the liquid and swished it around his teeth for the scent to stick. Another burning sensation followed as he swallowed.

He pushed to his feet, tottering wildly as he practiced his drunken act. A few stuttering steps and an openmouthed, wild-eyed act completed the look. The bottle dangled from the fingers of his left hand as his right hovered around his side for balance. He spun his body toward the entrance to the next room, but too much momentum swung him too wide. He fought for his balance and managed to clumsily walk through the archway.


It seemed to take forever and then some to reach the grand hall where the meeting was taking place. Many cloaked figures dodged around him in their rush to get there. None stopped to help him, not even to send a Sobriety Charm his way. He'd have to speak to his lover about that sometime soon, he decided.


Black lumps were huddled on the floor as he entered. An imposing figure sat strait-backed in a cushioned throne.

He stutter-stepped in the direction of the imposing man, and his arms pin wheeled for balance. A few droplets of the alcohol hit the bowed figures, but he paid no attention to their muttered curses. He smirked when he treaded on some fingers, but took another gulp of the clear Vodka to hide his expression.

"It's not working right," he told the man when he was at the foot of the dais. He knew that, if he were a drunk, there would be no way for him to advance up the stairs without becoming a fool. His words were slurred, his expressions bland from what was visible under the mask.

The man sighed and stood from his throne. He gracefully stepped down until he was on level with him. He took another gulp of the precious liquid, letting some of the excess spill from his cheeks down his chin and into the neck of his clasped cloak.

"Oh, Joker, what have you done now?" Voldemort asked, his red eyes questioning as they stared into dilated emerald. He didn't wait for Harry's answer; rather, he pulled Joker to him and then wrapped his left arm behind his back. A swift dip later and Harry was gently cradled in Voldemort's arms and carried up the stairs. Harry took one last gulp of the alcohol, and finally felt the buzz from too much ingested. When he was settled in the throne, his head over one armrest, his legs hooked over the other, Voldemort snatched the Vodka.

He, too, held it up to the light, and then took a gulp. One of his eyebrows rose at its potency. His ruby orbs flickered down to Harry's drunken form, amazed at his coordination with the amount apparently drunken.

He man shook his head and returned to his gathering of Death Eaters. His unresisting hand allowed Harry to snatch the bottle back and down another gulp.

+Mine,+ he hissed when Voldemort eyed him warily. A drunk, powerful wizard was always a hazard to be around.

Harry slowed his consumption as he dozed in the chair, slowly allowing the bottle to slip from his grasp and shatter on the floor, leaving a good eighth of the liquid to splatter.

Voldemort's harsh tones as he addressed his followers were soothing to him in his alcohol-induced stupor.


A few hours later, the meeting was ended, and the Death Eaters dismissed. Voldemort banished the remnants of his Joker's drinking spree and turned to the teen, crouching down to be level with the troubled face. He exhaled despairingly and gathered the teen in his arms once again. A swift turn of his upraised body had them Apparating from the hall to the wing where their bedroom was located. They appeared with a soft crack from the air displacement.

Voldemort sat Harry at the foot of the bed and stripped him from the decorated cloak and the silver mask. He tugged the buttons free from the shirt, peeled the pants from the trim legs, and tossed it in the hamper as he laid Harry gently on the coverlet. He left a moment later, and the sound of running water was heard. It ended as swiftly as it began.

The footsteps sounded again, and Harry squirmed as he felt the warm touch of a washing cloth on his face and chest. The Vodka traces were sponged gently away, as were the faint traces of sweat.

A murmured spell later had a rush of mint filling Harry's unresisting mouth as his teeth and tongue were scrubbed.

Voldemort cradled Harry once again as he carried him to the side of the bed. He tucked Harry between the covers and disappeared into the bathroom for his own night rituals. A few minutes later, the bed dipped on one side as Voldemort joined Harry. The man's long arms wrapped around Harry and dragged the unresisting teen into the solid form of his body. Harry rolled so they were spooning, pressing his back deeper into the man's warmth.

He felt, more than heard, Voldemort's chuckle. The man shifted to press a gentle kiss to his temple and the light disappeared from the room, replaced with comforting darkness.

"Goodnight, my precious Joker," Voldemort whispered. Harry made a sound in his throat to be taken as the same, and he felt Voldemort's smile against the back of his neck.

"Sleep well, Harry," the man told him.

Harry smiled to himself; he knew now the man wouldn't take advantage of him when he was in a drunken state. That wasn't to be said for when Voldemort was drunk, though…. Harry snorted and burrowed into the covers and Voldemort, and drifted off to sleep.

Here's another piece in the Vinewood universe! I hope you all enjoy it and REVIEW. Please review ;)