Full Summary: Harry Potter had lived a peaceful life. He had a fairly well-paying job, he had a beautiful girlfriend, and nothing was wrong in his world. Then he had to get drunk one night, only to wake up in world renowned super star Tom Riddle's bed. Now he's got said super star after his ass, literally, and what's he going to tell his girlfriend now? "Sorry Cho, but after having some cock I don't think I like pussy anymore. Not to mention, I lost my purity ring, I'm afraid Tom Riddle's gone and sucked it off my finger and he won't give it back." Yeah right! Like that's going to go well!


I've been dying to write this one for ages!
This is more of a light hearted story,
and more for shits and giggles than anything.


"Ladies and gentlemen it's official! Tom Marvolo Riddle AKA Voldemort, lead singer for the acclaimed rock band Death Eaters, will be leaving to start a solo career! Here is the official statement from Voldemort, exclusive and only for The Daily Prophet- your one stop station for news on your favorite celebrities!"

Three months later.

"So, you'll enter on stage three first, make your way to stage-"

"Shhh." Tom interrupted his stage coordinator, "Listen." He said, fingering the velvet curtain in front of him.

"Voldemort. Voldemort. Voldemort. Voldemort."

Tom smirked, his red eyes glittering in amusement, "They're chanting my name," he laughed.

Severus Snape raised his eyebrows, "What do you except? They practically worship the ground you walk on."

"They do, don't they?" Tom mused, his smirk ever present on his face.

"As I was saying before you," Snape started, a bit peeved, "interrupted m-"

"Sir!" A voice cut in, "Mister Snape! The lights above stage three, I need the control key for th-" He stopped with a gasp as soon as he saw the rather… furious look on Snape's face.

Tom chuckled across from the new comer, "If it's one thing Severus hates it's being interrupted."

The new comer gasped again, seemingly shocked by the presence of Tom, "Voldemort!" He shouted, unable to keep his mouth from opening.

"Yes?" Tom replied, amusement lacing his voice.

Snape placed a hand on Tom's chest to stop him from commenting any further, "Mister Potter." He hissed, "The keys for the control room." He said handing him a set of keys from his pocket.

"Thank you Sir," the boy – now identified as Potter – said in a hurry, swiping the key's from Snape's outstretched hand before running off in the same hurried manner.

Tom's red eyes watched on in amusement as he almost tripped over a box before disappearing behind a corner. "Who is he?" He asked Snape, cocking his head in the way the boy disappeared to. "He seems young."

Snape knew what Tom was really asking, how could a seemingly young boy have access to the control keys? "His name is Harry Potter, he's the newly transferred in head light technician."

Tom tilted his head, "Head? Light technician? How old is he?"

"Two years younger than you, he's eighteen. He was recently promoted; he's been working for our company since he was sixteen. And before you ask no, he didn't graduate high school. And no, I don't know why."

Tom smirked amused at how Snape had answered every question he had before he could ask them.

"Do you remember the Weird Sister's concert last month?"

"Yes…" Tom answered the rather random question, humoring the man, "It was all over the news."

"Yes, they said it was the best light show the world had ever seen incorporated with a band concert."

Tom stilled, he looked at Snape with a raised eyebrow.

"Harry Potter was responsible for said lights in that concert. He may be a brat," Snape said grudgingly, "But he's good at what he does."

"Great work everyone!" Head of staff, Seamus Finnigan yelled out waving his hands around.

"Oof. Watch where you wave those Finnigan," Tom hissed, his red eyes practically burning holes in Seamus' head.

"S-S-Sorry," Seamus stuttered out as he watched Tom storm by with his coordinators and bodyguards in tow. "Damn, he's scary," Seamus whispered to himself, "Can't deny that he's smoking hot though." He whistled, checking out Tom's topless back and low rise skinny jeans – barely hanging on his hips. "No wonder we had to call in a few extra ambulances today. The fans must've been passing out left and right!"

"Hey Finnigan!" A staff member called out, "After party at Slytherin, right?"

"Yeah," he replied. "Oh! Harry!" He exclaimed, spotting his friend's untamable messy signature black hair. He latched onto him, "You, my friend, are coming with me."

"What?" Harry exclaimed, "Seamus, you know how much I hate parties. Especially band parties."

Seamus laughed heartily, "Unlike your previous band, The Weird Sisters, who are well known for their crazy after parties, we merely party with the staff members."

"Besides," Seamus said, clapping Harry in the back, "It's not like Tom Riddle's going to seduce you like The Weird Sisters tried to do right? Mister World Rock Star, Tom Riddle, does not show up at his after parties, Harry my dear, and even if he did I don't think he swings that way. Actually I've never seen him take interest in anyone before," he told him cheerfully. "And! Not to mention, you're part of our staff now! An introduction is necessary! And what better place to do so than at an after party celebrating the success of your first participated concert! Let's go!" Seamus yelled before dragging Harry out, not giving him a chance to argue.

Harry couldn't deny that he was having fun. He usually hated parties because he wasn't the most outgoing person and didn't do well in crowds. But he was with Seamus, his high school friend, and the staff he's worked with at the concert tonight so he found himself to be more comfortable than he usually was.

"Oh," Seamus said with a flourish, "This, Harry, is our beloved head coordinator, Luna Lovegood. She's responsible for the way Voldemort looks at any and all presentations, including - but not limited to - interviews, photo shoots, and concerts!"

"Hello, nice to meet you, I'm-"

"Harry Potter, the new head light technician. I know." Luna finished for him in a dreamy voice, not quite looking at him. "Would you like a drink?" She asked, patting the seat on her left, still not looking at him.

"Mister Bartender, can you give Harry that?" She told the bartender without even waiting for Harry's answer.

"'Course, Miss Lovegood," the bartender replied cheerfully.

"What? I'm sorry, Miss Lo-" Harry started.

"Luna," she insisted, "Call me Luna."

He sighed, "Luna. I have to decline."

"Aw come on Harry!" Seamus said throwing Luna a saucy wink, "How can you turn down such a cute lady?"

She giggled.

"…Fine…" Harry said, giving in.

The bartender laughed. He pressed a button on the table and all of a sudden sirens went off at the bar. He grabbed the microphone hanging above him, "Chug, chug, chug!" He exclaimed, handing Harry a long tube.

Panic over took Harry as he frantically stared at Seamus, pleading with his eyes to save him, "Seamus," he hissed, "You know I can't handle alcohol!"

But his friend only laughed as he yelled with the crowd that had surrounded them," Chug, chug, chug!"

Harry looked at the innocent looking blonde sitting at the table, chanting along with her dreamy voice. It was always the innocent looking ones that were crazy he thought, defeated, as he reached for the tube the bartender was handing him.

"Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug!" The crowd around him shouted as he drowned the liquid.

"Another round!" The bartender shouted, as the crowd screamed their approval.

"Harry Potter…?" A silky voice broke through his hazy mind, "I've wanted to meet you all night. Where have you been?"

"Who're you?" Harry slurred out, too drunk to talk properly. In his haze, he reached out in front of him as if feeling the stranger would give away his identity.

The man in front of him, grabbed his wrist before he could touch him, "Surely," he spoke, amusement lacing his voice, "You know who I am."

Harry squinted his eyes, trying to see the stranger in his drunken haze, "Sorry," he said, "M'fraid I don't know who you are."

"Well then," the stranger said, placing a light kiss on Harry's hand, "I'm -"

"…Ughhh…" Harry groaned out as he slowly got up on his bed. He buried his head in his hands. His head was killing him and he felt like the sun was burning his eyes out even if they were closed.

"Kreacher…." He called out softly, his voice oddly hoarse, "Kreacher… close the damn…curtains…?" He stopped, staring in wonder at the curtains in question. Either Kreacher, his over jealous butler, had done some major redecorating in his room or he wasn't in his house at all. And from the view he could see from the window, it was safe to assume he wasn't at Grimmauld Place, in the suburbs, but perhaps in the city somewhere.

He groaned again, a fresh wave of pain hitting him in his head as he placed his hands on his naked lap. 'Wait,' he thought, 'Why am I naked?' That's when he noticed the slumbering body next to him on the bed. He gasped, backing away from reflex.

"Unn…" He moaned in plain, his backside was burning, and he really didn't want to know why but he knew exactly why it was hurting as he looked at his bed partner who was obviously male.

'I've done it haven't I?' He thought with dread, 'I've gone and given my virginity to some stranger I've never met- and a male at that. ' He felt a wave of misery wash over him, 'Gods, I'm sorry Cho.' He apologized mentally to his girlfriend.

He stifled a gasp when his bed partner suddenly turned over showing Harry the face of his mysterious tryst. He felt his mouth open in shock and his eyes widening, it was Tom Marvolo Riddle.
He'd gone and slept with Tom Marvolo Riddle.

'I had sex with Voldemort,' he thought with a touch of insanity as he studied the singer who was slumbering quite peacefully unaware of Harry's inner turmoil.

He really was quite fetching, Harry had to give him as he looked at the sleeping male, with his slightly wavy ebony locks and pale skin, straight nose, and sharp chin. No wonder he had hoards of fans all over the world. Just dying to… he choked… sleep with him.

He meshed his hair up in his hands in silent frustration before shaking his head furiously, his eyes taking on a determined light.

'No use crying over spilled milk.' He told himself, as he got out of the bed. He ignored the pain in his back side and went about gathering the various articles of clothing that had been carelessly thrown the previous night.

He dressed himself in a hurry, his eyes checking every few seconds to see if Tom had woken.
Thankfully, Tom had not woken up, and he let out a breath he had been holding. He bit his lips in thought, having second thoughts about just leaving before his partner woke up, but he shook his determinedly telling himself it was better for him to just leave and pretend it never happened.

'Besides,' Harry thought to himself, 'I'm probably just a one night stand he won't even remember in the morning anyways…'

He never noticed Tom Riddle's smirk as he slipped out of the apartment.

Two days later, at Hammersmith Apollo preparing for that night's concert.

Harry Potter was a right mess, he's been that way for two days, ever since he had woken up next to Tom Marvolo Riddle. He couldn't help it. He was jumpy and half expected someone to come up to him and proclaim that they knew what he and Riddle had done. He sighed, he'd been doing that a lot these days, and made his way back stage to check the lights one last time.

'Just because I slept with him, doesn't mean I'm not going to do my job.' He had of course, contemplated quitting, or transferring to another artist, but had talked himself out of it.
Surely, if Riddle was going to make a big deal or even acknowledge their night together he would have done it by now.

He had deducted that, most likely, Tom Marvolo Riddle had gotten drunk and did not remember sleeping with him at all. At least, that was what he had hoped.

"Potter," Snape hissed, rubbing his temples, "You've checked the lights seven times already. If you have nothing else to do, make yourself useful and help one of the many staff members here running around like chickens with their heads cut off!"

"Harry," Luna's dreamy voice floated over, "Can you help me bring these to the dressing room?"

'No,' Harry wanted to say, 'It's your fault I got drunk and ended up in bed with Voldemort.' But he tugged on over to the blonde and took the clothes she had piled in her arms like the gentleman he was.

"Lead the way," he said, with little enthusiasm as he followed after the girl further into the back.

She lead him around a corner and down a hallway before patting a door that had a paper taped to it that read Voldemort.

"Here we are." She stated in that dreamy voice of hers, once again seemingly looking far off into space, "Tom should be inside at the moment, but just place those in there, okay? I'm going to go get some more." She walked away, not knowing how she put Harry into an awkward situation. If the singer was in there... well... then Harry really didn't want to go in. But it wasn't like he could just place the clothes outside, or give it to another staff member because there was no one around to give it to. Not to mention, he was already in front of the door.

Distracted, and lost in his own thoughts Harry never noticed the door opening.

"Are you just going to stand there?" Tom Marvolo Riddle stood there, in all his glory, smirking down at Harry - his red eyes glittering in amusement, "Or are you going to come in?"

Harry gasped, shocked out of his thoughts.

"Unless," Tom spoke as he observed Harry's frozen figure, "You plan to keep them hostage?"

"No, sorry..." Harry shook his head, brushing past the singer who was by then, leaning against the doorway.

Tom followed Harry in, closing the door behind him silently, "You can leave it on the table." Tom told him offhandedly. Harry nodded, seemingly at ease when Tom gave no hint to knowing of what happened that night. He put the clothes on top of the table Tom had mentioned earlier and turned around - only to bump into the singer himself. He took a quick intake of breath, startled by how close he was.

"Ugh..." Harry started, trying to distance himself but realizing he was trapped between the singer and the table behind him.

"Why weren't you there when I woke up?" Tom asked, his red eyes staring unwaveringly into Harry's wide eyes. He spoke calmly with a hint of amusement in his voice. He trailed a finger down the side of Harry's face, down his neck, then finally he lightly traced the mark he'd left there two days ago. He doubted that Harry had seen it.

Tom was answered with only a tense silence.

"Well, I suppose," he murmured, cupping Harry's face in his hands, and leaning even closer to the boy, "you can make it up."

"Stop!" Harry suddenly yelled, breaking out of whatever shock he's been in and pushing Riddle away from him. "Do you see this?" He shoved his hand at Riddle's face, showing him his left ring finger. "This," he said, waving his hand around, "Is a purity ring!" He exclaimed, pointing at the discreet silver band on his finger.

"Is that what it was?" Tom asked, a bemused expression on his face. He grabbed Harry's hand in mid wave, and promptly licked the side of Harry's left ring finger - ring and all - and placed a teasing kiss on his finger tip. He smirked slowly before taking the whole finger in his mouth. He sucked gently on it, laving his tongue around the digit from time to time, all the while Harry stood frozen, unable to take back his hand and just staring transfixed at the sight before him.

With a pop, Tom released Harry's - now bare - finger and showed him the ring he'd taken. "I'll be taking this then," he told Harry in a teasing voice, "Since I was your first." Tom chuckled lightly at Harry's flushed face before leaving the room, Harry's purity ring in hand.


And before you ask, why am I going back & forth from using Tom Riddle to Voldemort?
It's because Voldemort is his(Tom Riddle's) stage name.