A HPLV story requested by and written for: Darkangel048
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters.
Warnings: OOC-ness, slash, lemon -I didn't put up a warning by the way. If you don't like it, what are you doing reading an M-rated story anyways?-
Nervously, Harry entered through the open doors of the manor, taking in the spectacle. The room was large, almost as large as the Great hall, and heavily, but tastefully decorated. Most of the attendants, himself included, wore masks. He had come late on purpose, so everyone would already be too busy to notice his presence. Draco really was a dear friend of his, but this was the first time he had been in the blonde's home. He watched the other people carefully. Damn it! Couldn't Draco have informed him about the fact that this was a Samhain party for his parents as well? Most of the people here were adults, and only Merlin could know how many of them were loyally Dark, or worse, Death Eaters! Sure, he was disguised, but should anyone try to be funny and rip his mask off, he didn't want to know what would happen... Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea after all... Trying to blend in with the shadows, Harry scooted along the wall, searching for his friend, finally spotting him over at the drinking bar, together with some of his other friends.
Where else, he chuckled in his mind.
He approached Draco, sighing in relief when he reached the table without having collided
with any of his enemies.
"Dray!" he hissed, dragging Draco away from the table into the shadows.
"How'd you know it was me?" he said, concerned that anyone else would see through his mask and costume.
"Oh please, you're the only one who ever calls me by that ridiculous nickname. You're late, by the way..."
"Fashionably." Harry pointed out, grinning, and Draco rolled his eyes.
"Geez, how much have you drank to be so open and talkative already?" Harry joked.
"It isn't a party for nothin' y'know..."
"What about your parents?"
"Will probably drink thrice as much as I do...It's their party also, no?"
"Yes, such a trifling little detail you forgot to tell me." the black-haired boy grumbled. "Anyone here out for my blood that I should watch out for?"
"Depends in what sense..." Draco said, a sly grin spreading over his lips, something Harry didn't like at all. Whenever Dray grinned like that, he had some evil little scheme, mostly having to do something with him trying to hook Harry up with someone. "You know," he began, on a tone that made clear he was changing subjects –on purpose, Harry knew all too well- "You have a nice mask. What does it portray? A swan or something?"
"Yes." he answered, suddenly liking that interpretation a lot more than what it actually was.
It was a venetian half-mask, only covering the upper part of his face with white feathers glued to it. Around his eyes, there was fluffy stuff, but all around the edges, it had pennaceous feathers, pointing in all directions. It was supposed to portray an angel, but he guessed a swan was –although a very, veeeery little bit,- more Samhain-like than an angel...maybe he hadn't chosen the best mask, but he had instantly liked this one.
"So...I've never been to a party like this before...what's gonna happen?"
"It's more of a ball inside of here than a real party. That one is in the back of the garden, for us. We're not really going to do anything traditional, it's more eating and talking, and drinking, and trying to get someone to snog you when you're drunk." Draco told him, and Harry tried not to laugh. It was soDraco-like. He couldn't believe the rest had actually agreed on this, knowing that there were some who would love to do something traditional over Draco's view of 'fun', but he supposed that was probably the reason Dray had invited them before he could be invited to another's party, sly git he was.
"Hey, Dray...You did inform your parents that I was here, right?"
"Ah, I might've...forgotten...If it makes you feel better, I'm not the only one who knows you're here...and you might even be searched out by him..."
"Who the hell are you talking-Hey!" he yelped, when Draco began to push him towards the door, followed by a few snickering Slytherins.
At first, Harry thought they were all in on that 'little plan' the blonde seemed to have, but when studying their expressions- or at least, of the ones who had their masks down, more thoroughly, he saw hidden confusion and curiosity. No chance at getting the answer out of them. He supposed he just had to trust his friend...even though he didn't look so trustworthy right now.
Some while later, Harry felt himself becoming light-headed because of the alcohol Dray kept feeding him. He couldn't deny though, that he absolutely loved the party. When he had gotten the invitation, he had been hesitant, but it really was awesome. Everyone was chattering and dancing around him, drowning out the gurgling sound of water from the little brook that flowed along one edge of the clearing the party was held in. The whole ambiance was a lot better then what he had seen in the ballroom. Apparently he wasn't allowed to think on his own for even a short while, because someone with a blue, scaly mask dragged him over to another group, laughing and quite obviously tipsy.
The whole dressing up seemed to be the only traditional thing that had survived Draco's thoroughness to make a 'real party' of it. Of course, there were the classic decorations, like turnips which were hollowed out –Though Harry liked the Muggle variant of hollow pumpkins better-, and the torches and bonfire, which Dray only allowed to get some warmth and a cozy atmosphere. Harry sighed. His friend was really impossible with things like 'breaking traditions'. One of the good sides was that there wouldn't be any limbs of slaughtered animals thrown into the fire to let the whole life/death theme come to life –no pun intended.-
Not really following the conversations, since they were just a bunch of nonsense because ninety percent was too drunk to have an ounce of intelligence left, he just laughed along, enjoying the party nonetheless. After some time though, he felt like he needed to get away from the crowds for a moment, and walked to the edge of the clearing, sitting down on the damp grass. Vaguely, he wondered what Dray was doing now, but no sooner had he thought it, he saw the boy, straddling some other guy's lap, –he believed it to be Theodore Nott, but he couldn't tell for sure. The mask hadn't fit over his glasses, so he had used a temporarily eye-correcting spell, that was slowly wearing off, making his vision blurry around the edges-, and seemingly enjoying himself very much.
Dizzy from the stronger stuff he had drunk, he let his head hit the tree trunk behind him with a thud, feeling a bit sleepy, but all of sudden, something nagged in the back of his head, like a warning. He tried to clear his mind, but failed horribly, and wondered what it was about. Even though he couldn't comprehend what the feeling was, it put him on alert, waking him from his drowsiness. A cold seeped into his bones when he felt someone stand behind him all of a sudden.
"My my," a honeyed voice whispered in him ear, breath tickling the shell, "What do we have here?" Harry's breathing hitched, but whether it was out of fear or anticipation, he couldn't determine anymore when a cold fingertip was slowly dragged along his lower lip. He tried to turn his head, but it was as if someone had cast a Petrificus Totalus on him. Something sharp was touching his neck, but he had no idea what it could be, seeing as the left hand of the person was in front of him, and the right arm slowly slid around his waist. He felt the person slowly lower himself to his knees behind Harry.
"Who are you?" Harry whispered, and got a dark chuckle in response.
"You don't know, my angel?" the man –for the muscled arm around him and the voice of the person were obviously male-, said.
"It's a swan." Harry muttered, earning him more chuckles.
"I'm sure it is..." he said, and hooked his fingers under the mask, slowly pulling it off.
"However, your real face represents an angel more than this mask does. Why hide yourself at all?"
If it wasn't for the heavily seductive tone in which he spoke, Harry might have been able to wrap his mind around the fact that he had been complimented. As it was, he was too far gone to register anything but the alluring presence of the being behind him. He wasn't entirely sure it was human, because while he spoke, sharp things prodded his nape sometimes, and the only thing they could be were teeth. Very, very sharp ones. The man's head lay heavy on his shoulder, breathing against Harry's skin and rubbing his cheek against the boy. Slowly, he willed himself to be calm, not seeing any immediate danger.
Only then, Harry felt as if something was lifted from him, and he could move. It seemed the man had put a spell on him after all, though for the life of it, he couldn't figure out when and how. Slowly, he lifted his arm and touched the person's head. It appeared he had short hair that was very soft to his fingers. He pushed a bit to make clear the man had to remove his head, and he did, although reluctantly, so Harry could turn around. What he saw took his breath away.
An older version of Tom Riddle. That was the only thing the man before him could be described as, save for the crimson eyes which were now taking him in cautiously, obviously waiting for him to jump up and scream. He didn't though. He had expected to have no control over either his body or his mind on this, but it seemed they agreed completely on staying here in the arms of the man. The curious thing was, that the Dark Lord's lips were parted slightly, and two tips of fangs stuck out. Wondering whether they were part of a costume or real, he reached out and touched the tips. Voldemort flinched away in surprise.
"Don't." He commanded.
"Why not?" Harry asked, fascinated by the fangs. They had felt real.
"Because it wouldn't be wise for you if they punctured your skin...How come you are still here?"
Harry stared at him with a blank expression, not knowing the answer. He shrugged and leaned his head against the man's chest, snuggling into him. Disbelieving, the man looked down on him.
"And here I thought I would have to resort to force to keep you here." He told the teen, his voice betraying that he was taken aback.
"Would you have?"
Another chuckle escaped his lips. "Guess..." Dark mirth danced in his eyes.
"Yes." Harry stated. "But why? Why are you here? Not torturing me?"
"Oh, I will...but you will beg for it..." he said, clear amusement in his voice, and Harry couldn't make out if he meant it or not. He tried one more futile attempt to clear his head, but found his senses to be clouded and foggy. The only thing that became clearer was his vision, and he wondered if the man in front of him had cast the spell on him. "Why I am here...I just so happened to break into young Malfoy's mind, and saw you were to come here...I got...curious as to why, and found that you are not as loyal to the Light as everyone believes...why is that?"
"It's not that."Harry said slowly, since it was hard to form intelligible sentences for him right now. Riddle's arms were still around him, still pressing him flush against the man, who was also doing quite a good job on distracting him when slowly sliding lips across Harry's temple. "I'm not against the Light...just against the war. I want to have no part in it...w...what are you-" he said uncomfortably when he heard Voldemort breathing in the scent of him, and slowly scraping his teeth over Harry's skin
He didn't get an answer other than a small animalistic sound that were in between a whimper and a growl. He decided it would be best to sit completely still, and after a few minutes, the Dark Lord once more rested his head on the teens shoulder.
"I don't really think you can decide for yourself whether to participate in the war or not. You are obligated to try vanquish me, no?"
"As are you." Harry answered, and he felt the mouth of the other curl into a smirk.
"Ah, but I am not being controlled by anyone but myself. So in fact, I am freer than you are."
"And what reason would you have not to kill me?" Harry said somberly.
"Funny that you ask...I don't think I'll stop myself from killing you, although the concept of killing can be used in more meanings than destroying."
"What are you talking about?" Harry breathed, closing his eyes when a hand began to stroke his face.
"I Harry, am dead." the man grinned, showing two sharp fangs.
"So they're real?" he asked dumbly, and Voldemort licked his lips.
"Like to feel?" he hissed in a low voice.
A flash at inhuman speed later, he had his fangs at Harry's neck again, the teeth biting down, almost breaking the skin. The boy shuddered and gripped the brown hair of the other to press him closer and arched his own neck. All of a sudden, he was lifted in Riddle's arms, seeing trees flash by. When they came to a halt, they were at the edge of the small forest that surrounded Malfoy Manor and he was pushed up against a tree, where the Dark Lord effortlessly kept him steady, only using one arm. Maybe Harry should mind, but all he could think of now was having Voldemort as close to him as possible.
"Harry..." the man whispered. "Let me fulfill the prophecy. And in the process, let me make you mine..."
Harry cracked his eyes open and studied the mans face. He was looking sincere and calm, though emotions swam through the red eyes. Harry felt the fog lift from his mind a bit, but not enough to let the voice in his head through that normally warned him when he was doing something he would normally consider dangerous or stupid. And so he nodded.
When he had stumbled across Tom Riddle in his second year, he had been enthralled by the boy at first sight, one of the reasons why it took him so long until the realisation dawned on him that it was really Tom who was slowly killing Ginny. If it wasn't for her, and thus also for Ron and his other friends, he probably wouldn't have been able to destroy the diary. He had seen reluctance in Tom's eyes as well, and knew for sure he hadn't imagined it. However, they had been enemies, sworn to kill each other. And again, when he had encountered Voldemort at the graveyard, there had been that hesitation again on both their parts, resulting in a duel instead of an instant kill, in which he had been able to escape. And from that moment, his forbidden feelings had only began to expand.
And now...it seemed all his dreams came true. he was lifted again and swung his arms around the Dark Lord's neck, holding himself steady while he was carried.
"Where are we going?" he asked nervously.
He didn't get an answer, but they moved faster and faster, and Harry found he liked the feeling of this even more than racing on a broom. After a while, Voldemort stopped running in favour of walking, and Harry looked up. He saw a small castle on a hill, a black silhouette against the night sky, the moon hovering above it. They slowly approached it, and Voldemort smirked down on him when they passed the threshold.
"Welcome in the Vampire's lair, Mr. Potter..." he said, his tongue unconciously licking his lips.
His face was a shadowed, and Harry only saw his glowing eyes, though not even for a moment did he feel fear. He closed his eyes, listening to Voldemort's breath and footsteps against the stone floor, the only sounds which broke the silence.
"Why are you warm?" Harry whispered.
"Because of the blood that flows through me at the current."
"You...drank already?" he said, feeling a bit jealous, and the Dark Lord seemed to sense his mood.
"Yes, or I wouldn't have been able to do this...I probably would've ended up sucking you dry...like the one I fed from."
"Ah." the boy said, feeling strangely reassured.
He rest his head against the man's collarbone and sighed. He heard a door creak and was lowered on a soft mattress a few moments later. He gazed up through half-closed eyes and arched his neck back. Riddle's body hovered over him, though Harry couldn't see more than a dark shape with reflective eyes. He felt fangs nip his skin before Voldemort sank into him with a soft sigh. It hurt, and he bit his lip, but before he could think about it too much, he moaned in pleasure when a hand slid under his shirt and rubbed one of his nipples. The man on top of him lifted his head a bit, fangs only barely sliding out to whisper something, and their clothes disappeared. a leg rubbed his crotch slowly and he shuddered, trying to hold back a whimper. The weight shifted so it nearly crushed him, fangs reattached themselves and Harry felt the blood being sucked out of him. He rolled his head to the side to give the Vampire better access and spread his legs slightly, his breathing turning to harsh pants when they began to move. Voldemort had one hand wound in Harry's hair and one curled around his hip, all the while taking away the boy's life force with his mouth. Harry felt himself quickly growing hard, his whimpers becoming more audible.
"More...please." he whispered, and Voldemort pulled out, lifting his head so he could gaze down at Harry's face. Harry heard the sound of the Vampire licking his own lips clean before lowering his head and letting his lips ghost over the other's, almost instantly deepening the kiss when Harry opened his mouth. The teen let his hands wander over the torso of the man, stilling them at the hips, and taking a tight hold on them so they would stay in place when he bucked his own up, grinding their cocks together. He felt drained already, even though they had just began, and was glad that they had moved this to a bed. His legs felt weak and he was sure he wouldn't be able to hold himself steady.
The pace increased, Harry not really able to do anything but lying still, but it seemed like Voldemort preferred it that way, or had at least expected it, seeing as he didn't complain in any way, or gave Harry any indication that he should be more active. A hand came in between their hips, massaging Harry's lenght firmly sometimes, or changing the movements so only his fingertips would ghost over the sensitive skin at a torturing pace. His legs were lifted over the Dark Lord's shoulders, and, even though he had never experienced it for himself, Harry had quite a good idea of what was going to happen because of Dray's stories.
He felt the Dark Lord's fingers at his lips, and took them in his mouth, coating them with saliva as much as he could. They were removed, and Harry tensed when one of the slick digits rubbed his entrance. Another spell was whispered, though he couldn't understand it, and he felt himself getting empty inside. The feeling was quickly remedied when a finger slid inside. Lips connected to his throat again, leaving no time to think about it, and a second was soon added. It stung a bit, and he wiggled uncomfortably, trying to concentrate on the pleasure given to him rather than the pain. He began to struggle however, when a third finger prodded in, but the man had an iron grip on him.
"Don't...please, stop!" he begged, but it fell to deaf ears. And then a flash of intense pleasure shot through him that instantly hardened his member. The spot inside of him was stroked again, and his eyes rolled backwards, a long moan escaping his lips. He whimpered in loss when Riddle removed his fingers, and sucked them off when they were pushed inside of his mouth. It tasted weird, but it turned him on nonetheless. He tensed when something larger was pushed against his ring of muscles, but he relaxed when Voldemort told him so. The man slid inside with a hiss, and, even though he was thoroughly prepared, it still felt like his ass was being split in two. Tears gathered in the corners of his eyes, but were quickly kissed away. Harry took a few moments to calm himself down, and only when the pain had ebbed away –which took such a long time that he was surprised Voldemort didn't become impatient-, and began to move. He was pulled in a searing kiss that tasted of his own blood, and Harry could already notice a change in him when it didn't only have a metallic flavour to it, but also some sweetness beneath it.
The pounding became rougher, and Harry quickly felt the little control he had over himself slipping away, straining his muscles to the maximum with his eager responses as his sweet spot was assaulted over and over again. Precum leaked from his tip, and he felt his orgasm building up. With a final cry, he came, and the Vampire soon followed, filling Harry with his seed.
Harry all but collapsed, and felt himself being pulled into the arms of the Dark Lord, barely registering the tongue that was lapping at the wounds in his neck, sealing them close.
"Sleep now, my angel, because tomorrow, you will be a fallen one." he was told in a soothing voice, and fell asleep, obliviate to the world around him, aware only to the one holding him and the fire that was now coursing through his veins, evoking the changes.
"The prophecy is fullfilled..."Voldemort whispered, thinking about how lucky he was for it to have turned out like this. It was either this, or Harry destroying him. He smiled down on the boy in his arms, feeling a warmth in his chest that had nothing to do with the fresh blood he had just consumed.
He lay next to his angel, tucking the teens head under his chin. Not needing sleep, he stayed awake throughout the night, guarding over his Childe.
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