Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling and Warner Brothers Studios own the Harry Potter books and films. This story is for entertainment value only, and in no way will the writer of this fanfiction get money for writing this story.

Warning: This fanfiction will include themes not suitable for minors. Including, but not limited to, gay sexual themes, heterosexual themes, violence, torture, swearing, blood, gore and other adult themes. Please note, that this fiction may not include these as well, and before each chapter there will be a list of warnings.

Bonus Warning: This fanfiction includes gay sex, and the desecration of a graveyard and a dead body. Please do not read this if you do not want to read something like this. Also, almost the entire first page of this document was taken from Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, and has been put into quotations. If that is not enough for some of you, then please tell me and I will make which parts are from the book more obvious. This is set in chapters 32 and 33.

Full Summary: A different take on the rise of Voldemort in Goblet of Fire. Harry's terror turns to desire. His desire turns to need, and Harry falls into that sinful pleasure. How could Voldemort resist?

In the Graveyard

"Let it have drowned, Harry thought, let it have gone wrong…

And then, suddenly, the sparks emanating from the cauldron were extinguished. A surge of white steam billowed thickly from the cauldron instead, obliterating everything in front of Harry, so that he couldn't see Wormtail or Cedric or anything but vapor hanging in the air….It's gone wrong, he thought…it's drowned….please…please let it be dead…

But then, through the mist in front of him, he saw, with an icy surge of terror, the dark outline of a man, tall and skeletally thin, rising slowly from the inside the cauldron.

'Robe me,' said the high, cold voice from behind the steam, and Wormtail, sobbing and moaning, still cradling his mutilated arm, scrambled to pick up the black robes from the ground, got to his feet, reached up, and pulled them one-handed over his master's head.

The thin man stepped out of the cauldron, staring at Harry…and Harry stared back into the face that had haunted his nightmares for three years. Whiter than a skull, with wide, livid scarlet eyes and a nose that was flat as a snake's with slits for nostrils…

Lord Voldemort had risen again." (Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Chapter 32)

If Voldemort's glare could burn holes into flesh, then Harry's eyes would be nothing more than sizzling flesh. In the few moments that Harry held Voldemort's gaze, something very subtle popped inside him. From his scar, there was a feeling that he was being submerged into pleasantly warm water. The longer Harry gazed into the Dark Lord's eyes the hotter the sensation became, and faster it consumed his body. It's so…good…, Harry thought as the sensation was making his body ache pleasurably. He could not bring himself to look away from the man before him, in fear that the feeling would go away.

But all too soon, "Voldemort looked away from Harry and began examining his own body. His hands were like large, pale spiders; his long white fingers caressed his own chest, his arms, his face;" Harry let out a muffled moan as he watched the man. "the red eyes, whose pupils were slits, like a cat's, gleamed still more brightly through the darkness. He held up his hands and flexed the fingers, his expression rapt and exultant." Harry felt himself twitch at those fingers. Harry and Voldemort "…took not the slightest notice of Wormtail, who lay twitching and bleeding on the ground, nor of the great snake, which had slithered back into sight and was circling Harry again, hissing. Voldemort slipped one of those unnaturally long-fingered hands into a deep pocket and drew out a wand. He caressed gently too…" That sight made Harry moan even louder than he did before, he wasn't aware that he had started to arch his back or that he was bucking his hips forward, in attempts to find something he wasn't sure he completely wanted. (Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Chapter 33)

Voldemort once again looked upon Harry, who when met with the scarlet gaze writhed and moaned helplessly against his restraints. Green eyes where half hooded and filled with burning desire. Harry's body felt like it was burning in an inferno of pleasure. All he knew was that at that moment he would have done anything to have those fingers ghost across his body, to give the man before him any pleasure that he required. Harry could not see Voldemort as the man who murdered his parents, or the man that had ordered Cedric to be killed, or the man that he had been afraid of for the later half of his life. All Harry could see was the man that would complete himself.

Harry tried to beg around the gag for the skeletal man to touch him. But Voldemort merely continued to look at the boy with a curious look. Wormtail's subdued whimpers could barely be heard, the man was mumbling about the Dark Lord promising something to him. Voldemort sauntered away from Harry and toward Wormtail. Harry let out a cry against the gag and tried to free his body from his binds to follow the Dark Lord, but the rope seemed as though it were made out of steel.

"'…My lord…you promised…you promised…'" Wormtail cried. Voldemort waved his want over Wormtail's arm, and the bleeding stopped. Harry could feel Voldemort's magic the air and it hit his body like lightning. Harry once again moaned very loud and began begging once more, this time with greater fervor. Harry almost had the gag away from his mouth, as Voldemort returned his gaze toward him once more.

"Please…please…" Harry could barely get his words out. His body was writhing so much now that his skin would be raw from the ropes. "My Lord…please…I need…I don't know….but please…"

Harry could hear how wanton his voice was, but he couldn't bring himself to care as long as it made the older man come over by him again.

And Voldemort did go over to Harry again. This time he did not stop until he was standing directly over the boy. Harry's back arched even further as he begged to the Dark Lord. The bone white man bent down to Harry's level and removed the gag; his fingers brushed against Harry's skin as he did so. There was surge of inexplicable pleasure that ran through Harry's body, and the boy became painfully aware at how hard he was.

"My Lord…" Harry moaned lasciviously at the feeling those fingers evoked. "Please…please, keep touching me, my Lord."

For a moment, Harry thought he was going to be denied, so he arched his body as forward as it would go. Voldemort's robes caressed Harry's bound body, but it wasn't enough.

Harry whimpered, and the sound caught the Dark Lord's attention. Red eyes lingered on Harry's lips. A long white finger traced the swollen bottom lip, causing Harry to moan. Boldly, Harry swiped his tongue against the tip of the finger.

Voldemort left Harry's body completely, but before Harry could make any sound of a protest he felt his body shift. The ropes that had him bound to the headstone began moving, rearranging his confinement. His hands were now tied above his head and his legs tied so that they were spread. Harry felt his cock twitch with need and moaned looking up at his captor.

Voldemort was looking down at Harry with a fierce expression. He knew that his body would crave the things all men needed: water, food…sex; but Voldemort had prepared himself to detain from such needs for after he dealt with the boy. The boy was the problem now. Offering himself up, ready to be taken, and Voldemort would take him. Harry could see unbridled lust in Voldemort's eyes. Harry could have came then, but Voldemort spoke.

"You are not allowed to cum until I say," Voldemort spoke with command. "You will do everything I tell you to without question."

Harry could only nod, the need had all but stopped all coherent thought. Suddenly cool air hit Harry's skin, all of his clothes had been vanished. He laid there exposed to the Dark Lord. The thought made Harry feel heady, let alone the feel of his eyes raking over every bare inch of skin. Harry's mouth floundered when he saw that Voldemort summoned a riding crop. Harry wasn't sure if he should be terrified or excited; his cock decided that he was excited.

An audible swoosh sound was made when Voldemort tested the riding crop with the air. Harry watched in fascination as the Dark Lord brought the crop down gently on his chest and trailed it al the way down to his thigh. Once there, Harry felt a sharp pain on his inner thigh, then another and another and another. Pre-cum leaked from Harry's swollen member, as angry red welts appeared on his skin. There was no time to recover, because the riding crop came down painfully on Harry's chest.

It was then, that Harry noticed that he was moaning like a whore. With every hit, Harry would gasp then plead for more. The Boy-Who-Lived was straining not to cum, but he wanted more of the delicious pain that was being inflicted on him. Harry really almost did cum when one of his nipples was lashed at. The boy had never felt so sensitive before, never felt his body so alight with lust and passion.

"Get on your knees," Voldemort commanded from above. The ropes on Harry's legs loosened enough so that he could turn around. The name TOM RIDDLE glared at Harry from its place on the tombstone. Harry briefly wondered if the name had indented itself into his back, marking him as Voldemort's. Harry moaned at the thought.

"Beg," was the next command, the riding crop caressing Harry's ass promising sweet pain.

"Please, my Lord, I need you to hurt me," Harry's voice was rough, but filled with need. "I need you to brand me as yours."

The crop came down across Harry's ass with a resounding smack. Harry continued his begging when he wasn't moaning or gasping.

"I-! I need to feel you inside of me, my Lord! Ah, I need to-feel you brutalizing me-ah! Please! Please! Please, my-ah! My Lord! Please, my Lord, make my body respond only-to you! Ah!" Harry had collapsed into the headstone. Across his back and ass were long, heated welts. A hand with long fingers caressed the welts, digging into them every now and then. Once again Harry had to force himself not to cum. The ropes suddenly loosened themselves and Harry was pulled to his feet, then he was dragged across the graveyard.

"Lay," Voldemort said it as though it was a commandment. Harry looked down at Cedric's body, he hesitated for only a moment. Harry situated his body across Cedric's motionless chest. Harry opened his legs and looked up at Voldemort. He had a pleased look on his face and Harry shivered in delight. The fabric of Cedric's shirt was rough against Harry's abused back, this made Harry squirm in pleasure.

Voldemort hovered above Harry for a moment, then he bent down, exposing himself as he went. Harry could see Voldemort's aroused cock, and wanted nothing more than to suck him off. Voldemort, however, seemed to have a different plan. He grabbed Harry's legs and spread them further, and began to slowly push his way into Harry.

Harry could feel himself tear, as the Dark Lord pushed into him. Harry couldn't decide if this was the best or worst pain he had ever been put through. Again, his body decided for him. With every inch that Voldemort would push in, Harry's cock would twitch with need. When he was all the way inside of Harry, Voldemort wasted not time in setting up a brutally fast and hard pace. Harry moaned and cried out with every thrust. Voldemort had hit Harry's prostate every single time.

Harry could feel Cedric's elbow jabbing into his lower back. This caused Harry to look over at Cedric's lifeless face. Harry briefly wondered if Cedric would get hard from watching someone desecrate his body. His thoughts were ended swiftly by Voldemort. Who had grabbed Harry's face and forced him to look into his eyes.

"Look at me," the command in Voldemort's voice almost made Harry cum. Voldemort's eyes were ablaze with lust. They were burning themselves into Harry's very soul. Suddenly Voldemort bent down and bit Harry's nipple, almost to the point of drawing blood. Harry arched into Voldemort, his cock was aching with the need to be touched.

"My Lord-may I please cum?" Harry begged. Voldemort smile was filled with cruel satisfaction.

"Not yet," Voldemort said feeling like he had conquered a country. Harry sighed with frustration and tried to keep pace with the Dark Lord. Harry gave up that endeavor in favor of feeling Voldemort throb inside of him. Harry started to clench in time with Voldemort's thrusts, enjoying the strain on his face. Suddenly Voldemort lunged forward, teeth sinking into Harry's neck and his hand began pumping Harry's purposely neglected cock.

"Are you going to cum?" Voldemort asked with mock concern.

"N-no, sir," Harry sobbed out, desperately needing release. Voldemort's tongued the bite roughly as he picked his pace up.

"When are you going to cum?" Voldemort asked.

"W-when you say-ah! When you say I can cum, sir!" Harry gasped out. Voldemort smiled into Harry's neck.

"You may cum," Voldemort finally said.

"My Lord!" Harry cried out as he let himself relax and orgasm, Harry could feel his cum hit his face. White was all Harry could see as his world was sent into oblivion. Harry was aware that Voldemort was still thrusting into him, prolonging his pleasure. Then, with a groan, Harry could feel hot cum fill him past the brim. Then, Voldemort pulled out of him and stood. Harry could see blood and semen covered his lord's member. Without prompting, Harry got on his hands and knees and began to lick clean Voldemort's softening dick.

"Good boy," Voldemort smiled cruelly above Harry. Harry smiled up at Voldemort as he licked the last of the cum off of him.

"Thank you, my Lord. Please call on me should you ever need my services in the future."