Christmas Ball at Slytherin Manor

Summary: Ten years have passed since the defeat of the Light. In Slytherin Manor the last preparations are done for the Christmas ball. Slash, LVHP.

Pairing/s: VoldemortHarry.

Warnings: Slash.

Disclaimers: I don't own Harry Potter.


Christmas shot! Yay!


The Dark Lord of England, Lord Voldemort, liked to sleep in. After having fought for a long time, early mornings and late nights, he figured he had earned it. He had actually become quite lazy during the mornings ever since the fateful day when Dumbledore became no more and his Order was crushed.

There was another reason too, though, the one he liked very much. Just as him, his lover liked to sleep late. But this one had always liked it. So it had been days Voldemort had to wake up and leave him. That was never nice. The Dark Lord never got to shower with his lover, ravish him in the mornings, you know, things he might like to do. He hadn't had a lover in such a long time so he was craving certain things. Voldemort had thought for a while that he might be asexual. And then he met his lover. There was no question there, he fell in love at first sight which had annoyed and terrified him at the beginning. Lord Voldemort didn't do love, yet he fell straight down for this one.

And the blasted man hadn't loved him back in the beginning! Voldemort had to court him, he had to actually court him. Luckily they had only been on a few dates (Voldemort still detested that word because it made him feel like a school boy) when the man had decided that it was time for sex. Good. Voldemort like that. It had been a bit of a surprise of who he had fallen in love with though. He had tried to suppress it at first, and no, he was not going to glance at the man's ass no matter how delicious it looked in those jeans. But he hadn't been able to hold it in the end. So he had approached said man.

Who would have thought the Dark Lord Voldemort and the saviour of the Wizarding World Harry Potter would meet in the middle of Muggle London during the summer between Harry's fifth and sixth year. Harry had informed the man he had already turned sixteen when they met hence the reason why Voldemort called him a man. The teen had surprisingly enough liked that. The Dark Lord was the first adult to regard him as a fellow adult. Ah, the irony.

That Harry had agreed to come to Slytherin Manor late at night, after they had had a few drinks and dinner and done a hefty amount a snogging in an alley and it was only their third date, had pleased Voldemort beyond everything. He had intended to show the teen around but Harry had grabbed his neck, pulled him down and after a ferocious kiss he had asked where the bedroom was.

And then the sex… oh, the sex. Voldemort had never been so happy in his life. Seeing the teen he was becoming obsessively in love with ride him… what a wet-dream.

"Stop smiling like that. It's disturbing."

Voldemort grinned wider and turned his head. Twenty-seven year old Harry frowned at him, messy and long black hair lying tangled around him and the Dark Lord kissed him. The younger man moaned as Voldemort turned and their lower sections rubbed together.

Ever since their first time, Harry had come as often as he could, and they had slept naked curled around each other after exhausting but mind-blowing love making. It wasn't as often as Voldemort had hoped for but with Harry going to school and being guarded by Dumbledore they had to take whatever chance they could get. Harry had lost faith in Dumbledore long before he met Voldemort in London and had been surprised when the Dark Lord hadn't try to kill him. Instead they had become lovers.

"Now you stop smiling like that," Voldemort whispered.

Harry tried to stop the smiling but it was hard. He rubbed his nose against Voldemort's and said:

"To think when I met you I met this very beautiful stranger who introduced himself as the Dark Lord. I always saw you as snake-face."

"Don't call me that. I only looked like that in the beginning," Voldemort complained.

"You have this desire to always look attractive."

"Of course; people let their guard down around attractive people."

"Oh? Is that so?" Harry asked as he sat up. "We should get up."

"I don't want to," the Dark Lord mumbled into the pillow, turning to his stomach. Harry grinned and sat down on top of him, leaned down and whispered in the man's ear:

"But I want to take a shower now and I want you to be there with me…"

Voldemort groaned and the younger man continued grinning. He moved his hips gently and the groan changed into a moan. "Come on, a nice, hot shower…"


Harry almost had him. "Even hotter when you hoist me up and take me against the wall." His speech slipped into Parseltongue and Voldemort threw him off, got up and then dragged Harry towards the bathroom.

The man was grinning like a madman as he was put in the shower and the water started coming, then the Dark Lord stepped inside and kissed him. He felt hands on his hips, a muscled thigh between his legs and spread them more. The hot water beat down on them even as moans and groans bounced off the walls.

Harry couldn't think of better mornings.


Lucius Malfoy arrived in the middle of their breakfast but Voldemort was in such a good mood he invited the blonde to join them. They both looked very frisky so Lucius decided not to ask why. He had seen the reason for their friskiness once, and that was enough for the rest of his life.

Tonight they would have a ball at Slytherin Manor. A Christmas ball. It had been Harry's idea from the start, and tonight would be the fifth time. Voldemort kept his face neutral as Harry and Lucius discussed where to put up the decorations, what food should be there and drinks but the raven-haired man could see the little bastard Dark Lord was enjoying it. He was in fact enjoying the, well, fact that he was having a ball in his own house. He looked to be at the point of giddy.

But it also could be because Harry let him do the younger man twice after the shower. That had forced them to shower again, naturally but Harry let it slide because he was sated and it was warm, he was a little sore but in a good way and he knew once the ball was over, Voldemort would do him again. Yeah, their relationship had a lot of sex involved but it wasn't like either of them complained. They liked sex. So why restrain themselves?

Harry and Lucius came to an agreement of only lighter food as many had probably eaten before they arrived. Drinks would be up to the bartender to decide. Yes, they had hired a bartender. Beside the alcoholic drinks there would be non-alcoholic drinks as well as not all of the invited were of age. There were quite a number of children there too.

"What of the decorations?" the blonde asked as he nibbled on a roll. He had a habit to nibble. Harry found it amusing to watch.

"Oh, I'm having Fred and George coming over," the younger man said with a sly smile, glancing over at the Dark Lord.

Voldemort spit out his tea, looking bewildered at his lover and uttered:

"Not those two! I refuse!"

"I kind of promised they could help…"

"No, no, NO! I'm not having those two anywhere near my precious manor!"

"Now, now, don't be so upset," Harry said and patted Voldemort's hand. "I've also made the promise to hex them if they do something stupid."

"Define stupid," Voldemort demanded.

"Anything I see as stupid," Harry said.

"Which changes every five minutes," the man muttered. Lucius held his smile under control.

"Do you want to sleep on the floor tonight?" the younger man warned.

"Like you can make me. I'm the Dark Lord of England."

Harry looked at him, long and hard. "You won't get any tonight," he suggested.

Voldemort refused to take the bait but Harry could see his eyebrow twitch in annoyance at that. Finally he gave in and said, "Fine, forget I said anything."

"Horny Dark Lord," the younger man said, satisfied and he sat back in his chair. Lucius hid the smile behind his hand but his self-control broke when Harry turned to him and continued, "He cares more about sex than winning an argument!"

"Harry!" Lucius laughed and Voldemort buried his face in his hands. "Merlin, I'm glad it's only Lucius."

"Yes, our dear Lucius. He's the only one who's gotten a glance at us." Harry waggled his eyebrows at the blonde.

"And I prefer not to see another one," the Malfoy said and sat straight up in his chair again. "So, the Weasley twins? Anyone else?"

"No. Or maybe Ron will come with them, he'll help out a little too."

It had surprised Voldemort when Harry had outright told those three Weasleys about their relationship. With the Dark Lord present. In the Leaky Cauldron. With some privacy wards around them, yes, but he was surprisingly open. Voldemort had feared for a moment he had to duck, rapidly, facing the wrath of three angry Weasleys.

Instead Fred and George leered at the man, which was freaky enough, and said they had some very interesting toys they really wanted to get some feedback on. Harry had knocked them back, scoffing and said they might as well try it out themselves. The twins had looked at each other and both had said at the same time:

"But who would get to top?"

Ron had laughed himself silly at that. Voldemort had raised an eyebrow. Ron Weasley had been known for his hatred of Dark wizards and now he was just accepting that his best mate, Harry Potter the saviour of the Wizarding World was fucking with the Dark Lord. Voldemort had looked at Harry helplessly and the raven-haired teen had smiled.

"Ron's good at making people think he's shallow."

True; he had fooled Voldemort in any case. Ron had patted his friend on the shoulder and congratulated him for the catch. The rest of their meeting, or whatever it was, had been very nice. Voldemort hadn't even minded when the twins suggested they would do it again.

But he didn't really trust them in his manor. They loved pranks, and wasted no time placing pranks and trinkets around his manor. However, if Harry said he would hex them, he probably wouldn't allow them to do it this time.

A kiss at the corner of his mouth woke the Dark Lord up from his thoughts. Lucius was gone and Harry purred, sliding into his lap.

"Where is Lucius?" Voldemort absently asked as he unbuttoned Harry's shirt to stroke the pale flesh underneath.

"He was going to Diagon Alley with Draco to fit them both new robes."

"That man's even worse than a woman," Voldemort groaned and pressed his head against Harry's chest, gently kissing one of the nipples.

"Like you're the one to talk. You dragged me around for hours in clothes shops."

"It was only to fit you with robes other than your school robes!" the man protested.

"Still, you dragged me around for hours."

"Don't test my patience, boy." He bit the nipple and Harry groaned.

"Lucius just wants to look good. With his wife finally gone and all he can splurge on himself. And dot even more on Draco."

"I swear," Voldemort said, "he thinks the boy is seven, not twenty-seven."

Harry chuckled at that. He hummed softly as the Dark Lord kissed his chest one last time before covering him up again.

"So…" Voldemort drawled. "When are your blasted Weasleys coming?"


Fred and George hadn't even been in the manor for two minutes before they started to run around like two hyperactive children. It was hard to believe they were almost thirty years old. Their brother Ron though had only made it to the living room by the time they were snapping and acting out. He got some tea from a house-elf, biscuits from another and quite happily sat down and drank his tea with Harry. Voldemort was at the bookshelves, apparently sorting through them. He had greeted the youngest redhead with a nod.

"We'll give them a couple of minutes to calm down," Ron said and jerked a thumb over his shoulder.

"And if they don't?" the Dark Lord asked.

The redhead shrugged. "Then we'll just hex them still."

Voldemort accepted that and returned to his books. Harry smiled before sipping some more tea.

They didn't get to hex any twins. They came in after a few minutes, promised over their life and magic they hadn't placed out any pranks (when the Dark Lord aimed his wand at you, you tell the truth and the truth only) and were soon equipped with tea and biscuits as well before they would start with the decorations.

A tea cup hovered up to Voldemort and he turned to see Harry put away his wand. With a fond smile he took the cup and drank of it, pleased by his lover's thoughtfulness. Of course he had already checked if anyone had put anything else but tea in the cup but thankfully none had. He wasn't up for massacre this early in the morning.


The Dark Lord had to admit that while Fred and George were absolutely out of control and a bit crazy, combined with hyperactive energy and no respect for their elders nor personal space… he was getting off track. Anyway, while they were all that plus some more they knew how to make subtle decorations, not too much but not too little. Harry obviously knew what he was doing when having them to help.

Ron mostly sat and looked on. He was moral support, and first prank-watcher for Voldemort if either of the twins tried something funny. It had actually gone twenty minutes before Fred got a bucket of cold water over him when he tried to slip in something not decorations in the decorations. Ron had just smirked at his outraged yell. If Voldemort didn't know better, he would say the redhead was a perfect Slytherin.

Good thing they had brought their dress robes because the time grew short and it was soon seven-thirty, the beginning of the ball. Harry had run upstairs a half-hour earlier and when Voldemort swept in to change into his dress-robes his lover was dressing, hair still a bit damp from the quick shower. Harry looked up from his clothing and saw the Dark Lord stare at him.

"What?" he asked.



"That is…"

"That is what? Leather? Yes, I'm wearing leather pants. Do my legs look fat in them or what?"

If Voldemort hadn't been a Dark Lord, Harry would've sworn the man would be drooling.

"Get changed, you pervert," he scoffed. "You'll get inside my pants soon enough."

"Is that a promise?" Voldemort asked as he stuck his head out of the bathroom, staring at him.

"Have I ever lied?" Harry leered.

What's wrong with all these Gryffindors? Not a single one he knew belonged in Gryffindor! He moaned and shut the door while Harry laughed and ran out down to the first floor.


Voldemort swept down the stairs when the people started to file inside. Many greetings was called to him and he smiled briefly before making his way into the ball room where they would all gather. Harry was already there, playing the perfect host. He was flinging around the room, chatting and all of his charm on a super-drive, making everyone love him. He was accompanied by Ron who actually handled himself quite smoothly in a party. Having long since abandoned his family and now dressed in robes he was comfortable with the scrawny, gangly brat Ron Weasley that Voldemort had known at first was no more. This Ron Weasley was much more interesting.

Fred and George knew when to behave, thank Merlin. Voldemort would have tried to throttle them in the room otherwise. Some light entertainment for his people. Right now they were taking a swing with a young woman, and judging by her blushing and giggling she was having the best night in a long time.

"My lord."

He turned around and smiled to Lucius Malfoy. His best Death Eater. Many thought it was Bellatrix, but she was a tad too insane in the end. Poor girl. Plus Harry had killed her. He hadn't like her since he and Voldemort started… oh, for the love of Merlin, alright, alright, alright! Since they had started dating. She was like a desperate whore clinging to Voldemort's leg according to Harry and so he had made that love-story short by chopping her head off.

Who said Gryffindors were kind-hearted? Liars!

He finally got a hold of Harry and snuck an arm around his middle.

"Voldemort," Harry whined. "I was being a good host."

"Now you can be a good lover and stay with me for a few minutes." The man kissed him behind one ear. "I don't want the guests to have your whole attention."

"Why not?"

"I'll feel left out."

"The big bad Dark Lord is feeling lonely?"

"How I ever stand out with that cheek of yours," Voldemort growled and guided him through the crowds.

"You love me too much to kill me."

"That of course…"

"Drink, lords?"

"Yes, drinks!"

Fred and George popped out like demons out of hell and Voldemort growled at them both. Not bothered by it the twins gave them drinks and then moved on, shouting 'Drinks anyone? Drinks?' as they somehow moved around the room with rollerblades on. Harry had no interest finding out how they got them.

The two looked at their new drinks. Harry sighed and got his wand up, waving it over their glasses.

"They're clean," he stated.

"Good," the Dark Lord muttered and downed it.

"Hey, that's too much at once!"

"I'm hungry, let's go."

Harry let himself be guided to the table with various of easy dishes, still with Voldemort behind him with his arms wrapped around the younger man's waist, his chin resting occasionally on his lover's shoulder. He looked up as Harry passed him a roll, opened his mouth and while the man rolled his eyes he placed the food into Voldemort's mouth.

"It's good," he said. "What's in it?"

"And you ask that afterwards…" Harry muttered under his breath. "What if I said it was Basilisk venom in it?"

"Oh, unlucky for me but if it had been I would've been lying on the floor now and slowly dying."

"Fuck you."

"I love you too, darling, let's go check that dish out."

If Dumbledore could see them… Harry snickered as he was led over. If Dumbledore saw this Voldemort, he would be surprised that the Dark Lord knew how to love someone. He knew how to care, how to smile and laugh, how to tell jokes and act as childish as Fred and George. He had known all those things before they got together; he just hadn't had a reason to show it before. His Death Eaters would piss their pants if he suddenly broke out in laughter at one of their jokes. He had to remain stoic and scary, like any other Dark Lord. First rule of the 'Evil, Dark Lord' manual.

The ball continued. There were a few Christmas songs but nothing too major. Voldemort would suffer a heart attack then and Harry would rather have a lover that was alive by the time it was time for bed. The Dark Lord had gotten used to 'normal' living so to speak, but there was never a good thing to put too much Christmas around him. He'd black out because of all the holiness and happy jolly spirits around him.

Harry laughed as Voldemort dragged him out on the dance floor and swung gracefully around. The music allowed a little quicker dance than usual, and they flew across the floor, Harry having long since learned the fine arts of dancing from Lucius and the Dark Lord. Voldemort enjoyed dancing, especially at balls. He had gleefully told Harry about a quite a few dances he had been on without anyone around suspecting it was him. He had been in the enemy's lair, and he had danced. Talk about confidence he would win in the end.

Then again, he did win…

Lips pressed against his cheek, he moved his head to look at Voldemort.

"You were lost in thoughts," the man murmured.

"Sorry. Oh look, there's Draco and Padma."

Draco Malfoy had been a mystery to Harry when in school. Afterwards, when fighting for the same cause and for the same person, the raven-haired man had learned the blonde was nothing like he had imagined. He was funny, sarcastic in an enjoyable way, social, a good pianist and had been in love with Padma ever since he first saw her.

Funny thing was Harry and Draco had been friends since fourth year, and no one had realized it. Or well, Ron and the twins had figured it out but they hadn't minded. Ron had grown up a bit during the Triwizard tournament and had learned to accept Malfoy. In seventh year, both the blonde and the redhead had dropped the surnames and called each other by their first names. A success according to Harry. The two of them had been awfully clingy until they realized Harry wasn't going to leave either one of them. And perhaps they had caught a look of Voldemort's glare when they hugged the raven-haired man. A jealous Dark Lord was not to play with.

Now his attention was back on the dance floor as Voldemort dipped him. Harry moaned into the mouth pressed against his own and then he was pulled up. The steps were quicker, Harry didn't know the dance style but had learned to just follow Voldemort's lead. The man never missed a beat.

Draco and Padma came to their side, following their move and Harry laughed. The others were giving them a wider room to play around on, and Draco and Voldemort didn't miss the chance to use the space.


"Well, that was a pretty good ball."

Voldemort looked over at Harry and his eyes widened at the sight of his lover shirtless and only those sinfully tight leather pants on. Harry grinned seeing the face and moved closer to the bed.

"Don't you think it was a good ball?" Harry asked.

"Yeah… yeah, it was good. The aftermath is better though."

"I did promise you to get inside my pants. I can't go back on that now can I?"

"Most certainly not," Voldemort breathed and ran his hands over his lover's thighs. He leaned his chin against Harry's flat belly and moved one hand higher, skimming over the back and his eyes closed, his lips stretching into a smile. "You're too beautiful, Harry."

"So I've been told. What are you going to do about it? Hide me in our rooms?"

"I'll never live through the wrath you will throw upon me if I try," the Dark Lord said. "I may be the Dark Lord but you have a worse temper than me."

"That's reassuring to know." A thin hand played in Voldemort's hair and he nuzzled into the soft skin. "That tickles."

"And your pants are annoying me."

"Then take them off."

Voldemort proceeded to do just that.


It was soon midnight. Voldemort looked at the clock, watching it going closer and closer to midnight. Harry moved in his sleep and shifted around, creating a temporary draft between their naked bodies before he settled in again, his head resting against the Dark Lord's chest. Voldemort fixed the sheets, bringing it over Harry's shoulder and kissed him gently at the temple. Today had exhausted his lover. Maybe the activities before going to sleep had been the most tiresome though.

Voldemort grinned at that. The smell of their joining still lingered in the air, a scent that made Harry blush and Voldemort smile like a madman.

The clock struck midnight. Christmas Eve was done. Voldemort eased down, embracing Harry and quickly sinking into sleep. It didn't matter if Christmas was over.

It would always come another one.


Phew. Lots of Christmas one-shots. Hope you enjoyed.

Until another time,