A/n: A rather…fluffy chapter. Egh, you need fluff once and awhile, no?

Chapter Thirty: Breathe Into Me

Harry leaned on his hand as he stared at the man next to him. He had just gotten up from a much needed sleep and he had been surprised to note that the warm body next to him was still present. Bloody Dark Lord was actually sleeping. Not faking it, nor was he allowing his magic to dance across the room, alerting him when Harry was awake. He was peacefully sleeping. The man didn’t look half as powerful as he did sleeping when he was awake. Seeing Voldemort sleeping was a step in a right direction. Hell, he had expected Voldemort to convert to his old self, taking their relationship a few steps backwards while Harry was away.

Harry was more than pleased at the end result. Perhaps his absence did Voldemort some good.

They still had many things to discuss, to talk about, to plan…but at the moment, Harry could care a less. He wanted something that he had avoided for so long. He wanted what Voldemort had been nagging him with ever since he revealed to Harry that they were Matches.

Quietly, he got up from the bed, his bare feet hitting the floor without a sound. He made his way into the bathroom and cast a silencing charm around it. Waking up Voldemort now would cause the man to have the upper hand in their act of dominance. Harry wanted to be the one starting their…bonding on his own terms.

His rib was feeling much better. Judging from the way the shadows in the room grew darker; Harry gathered that it was night once again. He pealed off the wrap around his waist, seeing the absence of the dark bruising. It was still slightly sore, but overall, healed.

Turning on the shower, he stepped under the spray, closing his eyes in bliss. The showers at the assassin castle were always cold and quick, having one now, was pure ecstasy. Harry turned the water hotter, enjoying as his skin turned a brilliant pink with the temperature. He lathered up with Voldemort’s spicy soap, paying special attention to rub away the dried blood around his scars.

After tearing himself away from the shower, he stood nude in front of the Dark Lord’s closet. He grinned as he ran his fingers through the dark cloaks. Nothing much to wear… ah… a wicked smirk crossed his features as he grabbed a silk shirt from the back. It buttoned up in the front and fell a few inches above his knees. He turned to the mirror, loving how the black silk shirt contrasted beautifully against his pale skin. What can he say? Malfoys and Blacks were vain, he just inherited both of their genes.

There was a crest on the chest, a crest that looked oddly like a Slytherin’s coat of arms. Interesting. Voldemort probably wore this under his robes.

Taking a deep breath, he walked out of the bathroom and into the bedroom where Voldemort still slept, absolutely clueless. A malicious smirk crossed Harry’s lips as he snuck closer to the man. His small body climbed up on the bed and toward the slumbering form. Muscles clenching, he straddled the Dark Lord’s body, putting one leg on either side, making sure not to place his weight on the body yet.

He leaned forward, gently licking the exposed throat.

And that’s when crimson eyes snapped open.

Harry allowed his weight to sit on Voldemort’s lap, leaning back to watch as the man gathered his senses.

Voldemort’s smirked, his hand immediately landing on Harry’s exposed thigh. The arousal in the room was clear. “I suppose this is where you make it up to me for sleeping with you?” Voldemort murmured huskily, his fingers rubbing circles on the milky white thigh.

“No,” Harry shifted his groin on top of Voldemort, causing the Dark Lord to give a throaty groan. “This is where I make sure my presence satisfies you enough.” He threw the man’s words back at him. “I want that gift you promised.” The red eyed man chuckled, pleased.

Using his free hand, he plucked a few buttons loose from Harry’s shirt, revealing his bare chest and shoulders. “My, what a sharp tongue,” Voldemort murmured, his hand dancing down Harry’s side and settling at his other thigh. His fingers tightened, grinding Harry’s small body down and thrusting his own pelvic upward. Their groins brushed together and the man repeated the action a couple of more times, becoming harsher and faster each thrust.

-- Start Lemon--

Harry gave a groan, reaching out his own hands and curling them around Voldemort’s collar. “You’re wearing far too many clothes.” And his magic vanished the man’s clothing. The only thing separating their naked groins was the bed sheet.

“Nothing on underneath, love?” Voldemort whispered out, clutching at Harry’s hips harder. “You planned this all along, you little minx.” He thrust upward in a wild heat.

Leaning forward, leaving his hips above Voldemort, he grasped the man’s face in his hands and planted a kiss on those tantalizing lips. His belly was on fire with arousal and desire and Harry did nothing to hide his moan that passed his mouth and into Voldemort’s. The Dark Lord tensed beneath him and then lunged forward, knocking Harry off his lap and onto the bed, beneath him.

“How would you like it?” Voldemort hissed in his ear, his tongue coming out to play.

Harry writhed and gave a breathless moan as the Dark Lord’s erection found his through the shirt. The Dark Lord reached out to tear the rest of the shirt off him, dipping down low to lick at the exposed stomach. Breathing heavily, Harry’s hands shot down to grab hold of the man’s cock. He stroked it, feeling the veins pulsating beneath the pads of his fingers. Voldemort grunted. “I think the position we were in was just fine.” Harry breathed; rolling them around so Harry was on top again.

His hand stroked the man’s erection with a frenzy, yanking and pulling as hard as he could without actually hurting the man… too much. Green eyes dilated in pleasure as he watched Voldemort shudder himself. Such enjoyment… Harry loved making the man feel this way. “Stop…” Voldemort hissed, baring his teeth. “Mount me, damnit.”

“Ah,” Harry pouted. “Is the Dark Lord going to come if I keep doing this?” Harry mocked, grinning as he leaned down, engulfing the man’s cock with his mouth. It was far too large to cover the whole erection with his mouth, but he tried his best.

He realized his mistake as soon as his lips covered the pulsating head.

Voldemort gave a victorious laugh as his hands covered Harry’s head, pulling at the hair and pushing Harry’s head closer on his cock. “Fool, thought you were in control… suck me.” And the Dark Lord humped his mouth, pushing his cock further down the small throat. “Yess…” he hissed in pleasure.

Harry gagged, using his fingernails and pressing them into Tom’s hips. He scraped them down, piercing the skin. It didn’t seem to affect the Dark Lord as he continued to thrust himself inside Harry’s mouth. Harry felt the man’s arousal peak and knew-,

He choked, attempting to swallow Tom’s seed. The man let his head go, allowing some mercy as Harry attempted to clear his airways. Through his struggle, Harry was pushed down on his back and the Dark Lord loomed before him, staring at him obsessively and full of desire. “You look absolutely beautiful like that,” he murmured softly, reaching out a finger to wipe away the white liquid on Harry’s chin. “Completely owned.” Tom poked and Harry reacted.

Harry hissed, getting himself back under control and lunging forward. The man wouldn’t have control…

Tom easily caught the small body flying in his direction, forcing Harry to sit on his lap. The two were both sitting up with Harry straddling Tom’s already growing erection again. “And here I thought you were older than seventy,” Harry breathed, rubbing his arse against the erection. He closed his eyes as he felt Voldemort gently prod his fingers inside Harry’s arse, stretching him.

“When I have someone as tempting as you here, love, I spring back, doubtless of my age.”

“Bullocks,” Harry gave a breathless whisper. “You probably took a damned potion…” Voldemort chuckled. Harry screwed his face up as he felt a second finger join the first one. “Merlin.”

“You’re alright.” Voldemort comforted, stretching him. The older man leaned forward, sucking at Harry’s neck to try to distract him. “Relax, my sweet serpent.” The Parseltongue against his neck sent shivers down Harry’s body. Teeth nipped and pulled at his skin, drawing the much loved blood between them. Harry moaned, feeling the fingers leave him and something much bigger take its place.

“Fuck, Tom,” Harry tensed, rearing away from the man’s warm heat. The arms around him tightened, before letting him go.

“If you’re not ready, then leave.” Crimson eyes challenged him. “But you certainly won’t be getting anything from me.” Harry tightened his jaw, knowing the Dark Lord was challenging him. He didn’t think he could do it.

Harry moved closer to Tom, swinging an arm around the man’s neck and quickly grabbing the man’s erection with his other hand and sitting down on it rather roughly. Tom hissed in pleasure, while Harry hissed in undeniable pain. He stayed still, pulling at Tom’s neck, making the Dark Lord almost bow his head. His teeth were imbedded into the man’s collar bone, using the means of pain to try to get back at the Dark Lord.

Hands settled themselves on his hips while Harry embraced Tom, keeping both his leverage and balance. Their position was a clear sign of neutral ground. By both sitting up, neither of them were on the higher ground. Harry knew, without a doubt, they couldn’t use this position all the time… he would have to be pounded in the mattress at times- but Tom would have to deal with Harry riding him on other occasions.

Voldemort’s finger nails pierced Harry’s hips, as the man lifted the small body up, off his cock and then back down. Groaning, Harry’s saliva intermixed with the blood on Tom’s collar bone, dripping down the front of his chest. “Merlin, you’re small…” Tom groaned out as he easily lifted Harry off his cock and slamming him back on. “Very easy to maneuver you wherever I want…”

“Shut up and fuck me,” Harry hissed, his arm pulling the man downward, encasing him with a searing kiss. Their tongues battled for dominance and Harry bit down roughly on the tongue in his mouth, easily gaining the upper hand in the kiss. Tom got his revenge as he thrust rather painfully inside Harry.

Breath and blood intermixed between them and eventually, Harry sucked his pansy side up and leaned a bit away from Tom. His hands settled themselves on the man’s shoulders and gave a snarky grin. Crimson eyes stared at him through hooded lids and then widened as Harry rode him, and then he narrowed them again. Harry refused to laugh, even if he wanted to. He was far too aroused to do anything but moan.

The Dark Lord would see him riding him as an act of dominance, and that wouldn’t fly with Tom, no matter how much it pleased him. With his hands still on Harry’s narrow hips, he met Harry halfway with his own thrust.

They worked each other into a frenzy and Harry could feel the high ecstasy coming off from the Dark Lord. It wouldn’t be too long now…. Harry gave a moan, tightening his hands on the man’s shoulders. He could hear Tom breathing heavily, giving a hiss between quiet moans. “Harrison…” he whispered huskily. Harry leaned closer again, clutching Tom in an embrace. Their chests rubbed pleasantly against one another and Harry was surprised to feel Voldemort remove his hands from Harry’s hips and wrap them around the small body.

Harry shuddered, burying his face in the crook of the man’s neck, coming. Voldemort clutched him closer, coming soon after with a hiss of incoherent curses.

--End Lemon--

The two stayed like that for a long while, slowing down their racing pulses. “Bloody hell,” Harry moaned and allowed Tom to tip them backwards on the bed. The Dark Lord was still buried inside him, a pleasant weight on top of him.

Harry closed his eyes, content. “Look at what you have been missing all those times you’ve pulled away…” Voldemort whispered in his ear, using his tongue to trace the outer shell. Harry was far too tired to retort with his own wit and chose to enjoy the Dark Lord’s small caress.

Lips traced his neck and he thought he actually felt a slight nuzzle from the man. “What is this?” Harry grinned as he felt the man’s fingers run through his hair. “Is the Dark Lord actually participating in after-sex loving?” Harry cooed.

“Shut the hell up,” Voldemort gave the boy under him a sharp bite to the jaw.

“No need to be embarrassed,” Harry groaned, running his own fingers through the long hair of his lover. “I find it oddly endearing.” And calming…peaceful. For once, Harry allowed himself to relax, not worrying about anything at all.

“This isn’t after-sex loving, you little minx.” Voldemort lied as his kisses grew fiercer. “This is a second foreplay.” The warm chest got off him but he stayed inside Harry, looking down at him through loose strands of hair in his face. Those crimson eyes were much brighter, a lot more relaxed and alive than Harry had ever seen them.

“Another round?” Harry inquired with a silly grin. The Dark Lord didn’t respond. He only gave a wicked smirk as he gathered Harry’s thin wrists in his hand and captured them above the smaller man’s head.

It looked like Harry’s turn to be in total submission would be sooner than he thought as he was pounded into the mattress with an eager Dark Lord above him.

--SSC--

“Bloody sore,” Harry complained to the Dark Lord the next morning. “It’s entirely your fault.”

The man smirked and Harry could feel the pleased emotions coming from him. “It is, isn’t it?”

Green eyes shot the man a glare. “Next time, I’m going to ride you until you pass out from the ecstasy.” He paused. “I find it ironic how you grew tired after I told you it was my turn to ride you.” What was so horrible about Harry riding the man? Voldemort’s bloody dick would still be the one penetrating; Harry would just be the one orchestrating the pace.

They passed by a group of Death Eaters who were all glancing their way. “You can’t blame a man of being tired when he was the one doing all the work.” Harry shot the man an icy glare, watching as Tom kept his smirk firmly in place.

Before they went inside the tent Voldemort was bringing them toward, Harry reached out and grabbed the man’s collar, bringing his face down level with his own. “You just wait, Tom…” He mentally opened his mind shields to Voldemort, allowing the man to see what he intended to do the next time they were alone. The man would be at his complete mercy.

Crimson eyes dilated in pleasure. “I’d like to see you try, love.” Voldemort purred, brushing past him and shrugging off Harry’s glare. “Come now, don’t you want to see your gift?” Harry lost his glare. He deserved a bloody gift after he was forced into the mattress last night. He was curious as to what the Dark Lord wanted to give him and he followed him inside the tent. Before he could see anything, Voldemort turned his back on the inside of the tent and blocked Harry’s entrance.

“Here,” a satin pouch was taken from his pocket and handed over to Harry. “I had it ready the day you left for the assassins.”

Harry stared at the pouch, taking it hesitantly. Flashing the man a look, he opened the small satin bag and frowned. His fingers dipped inside and pulled out a piece of… “Skin?” Harry grimaced, peering closer. His mouth opened and he gave a pleasant chuckle. “Longbottom’s famous scar…” The skin was preserved and it felt slightly warm in his grasp. He’d always wondered what the Dark Lord had done with the boy. Hell, he still wondered.

“It was a peace offering,” Voldemort looked displeased and disgusted with himself. Harry knew it must be hard for the man to be nice and sweet. “After I read your letter I began to realize where you were coming from.” He stopped himself from spilling out more than he wanted to and Harry wouldn’t blame him. “Which is why I offer you a part of soul in apology,” he moved out of the way, revealing a slumped form to Harry.

Green eyes stared at Longbottom’s devastated form. The Gryffindor lost a decent amount of weight and there was no spark left in those eyes of his. He was tied to a pole in the middle of the non-magical tent, covered in grim and his own shit.

Harry could only stare dumbly at Longbottom, realizing that… this was a large symbolic gesture from the Dark Lord. It was a sacrifice on the Dark Lord’s behalf, presenting Harry both his enemy and his Horcrux. It was a gesture of apology and a truce.

A bone white wand was placed in his hand. Harry numbly looked at Voldemort’s wand in his grasp. “You are my Match, my mate… you and I are alike in many ways.” The Dark Lord took a deep breath, sneering lightly at himself. “I confess that I need you by my side and for that to happen, for us to succeed in this war, in our relationship, I need your trust again. I betrayed you once and I realize the flaw in my ways. I’d like to start clean, Harrison, have a new slate. We will have problems, hell, I want to fight with you… it’s oddly arousing to see you frustrated. But I realize I had hurt you by betraying your trust. That is one thing I will vow to never do again.”

It was spoken stiffly and Harry knew it was painful for the man to say things like that, but it all came down to the fact that… he was saying it. No matter how stiff he was, or disgusted with himself for talking like this, he wouldn’t have said it if he didn’t mean it.

He was honestly taken aback on the man’s words. He would have never thought Voldemort would go to such lengths in all about apologizing. “Merlin, Tom…” Harry murmured.

“Just kill the damned kid, Harrison and accept my gift.”

Harry grinned, reaching over and curling his fingers around Voldemort’s robes. He pulled the man down for a kiss. “Thank you.” He wouldn’t make a big deal out of Tom’s gesture nor his words, because the man was already uncomfortable.

He turned and approached Longbottom. “You filth,” Neville spat, eyes narrowing. “I trusted you.” His eyes showed his disgust at the antics between the Dark Lord and Harrison.

Harry tisked, crouching down next to the shivering boy. He grimaced at the smell surrounding the boy. “Poor Neville,” Harry whispered, reaching out and touching the boy on the face. He flinched back from the touch, snarling like an animal. “What’s the matter?” Harry pouted. “You craved my touch before…”

“You’ll pay; you’ll get your due.” Neville whimpered. Harry felt Voldemort’s soul within Neville peak at his touch again. “They’ll kill you…”

“A pity you will be dead before you can see the end result.” Harry placed the wand at Neville’s conjunction between his jaw and neck. Longbottom stiffened and then slowly turned his face back around toward Harry, showing his crimson eyes. Harry paused. “Are you going to kill me, Harrison?”

Harry narrowed his eyes on the Horcrux. “Have you ever seen this happen before?” Harry asked Voldemort. The Dark Lord stepped forward, peering closer at Longbottom. His lips twitched upwards as he surveyed his soul.

“No,” Longbottom turned his attention on the Dark Lord. “It would seem as if he’s attracted to you and dominant around your presence.”

Harry tisked. “I can’t kill him. Is there a way to convert the piece of Horcrux back inside you?” Two sets of red eyes turned to him. He shivered as he thought of having two Voldemort’s running around. What if that had happened? It wouldn’t be very long, after all, Voldemort was a dominant figure, he wouldn’t be able to stand having another one of himself around. He supposed the older one would win… and then he wondered why he was even thinking of such a thing.

“I can,” Voldemort acknowledged. “I didn’t go through with it because I wanted you to choose Longbottom’s fate, with my soul still intact.” The Riddle inside Longbottom smiled sickly at Harry.

“Untie me, love, perhaps you and I…”

“Silence,” Voldemort hissed, sneering at his soul. “Is this what you choose? I’d rather get out of both their presence.” Harry resisted a grin at the man’s behavior.

“I want him inside you. I-,”

“I can be inside you.” Longbottom grinned. Harry raised his wand, ready to stun the body. That was, until Riddle became submissive to Longbottom once again. The Gryffindor looked positively frightened, unable to form any coherent words.

“I want him inside you, not split, but molded back with you. That’s what I want to do with your soul. Longbottom on the other hand… I wouldn’t mind you kill him.” Harry hissed in Parseltongue, knowing full well that Neville could understand what he was saying anyway. Another reason to kill the whelp. No one but Harrison and Voldemort should be able to speak the language of snakes.

“If that is your wish, Harrison.” The Dark Lord stood up. “I will complete the process as soon as we have the time. It’s a long and drawn out process, I prefer to get a few things out of the way before we attempt the ritual.” Harry nodded in agreement, standing up with the man.

“We should make a visit to the werewolves, but first we need to speak to Snape. Perhaps he’ll have some insight who the figurehead for the light is.” Harry paused, looking over his shoulder at an unconscious Longbottom. He surveyed the boy, trying to feel a little spark of pity…anything… he couldn’t find any. “Do you reckon Snape left the spot we told him to stay at yesterday?”

“He’d better still have his nose to the ground.”

“That was over twenty four hours ago, My Lord,” Harry raised his chin and threw back his shoulders as they made their way across the grounds toward the groups of Death Eaters lulling around. His face was stoic, not one hint of any feeling or emotions coming through. He and Voldemort were back to being cold partners.

Voldemort coldly dismissed the staring Death Eaters. “Where is Severus?” He asked the groups near the fire. Their eyes shot between Harry and Voldemort, only to direct their stare across the ground. Harry turned to see the potions master sitting diligently on a tree stump, looking as if he wasn’t waiting for an angry Dark Lord to approach him. Black eyes slowly glanced up through the fall of his hair, watching the two approach.

“Severus,” Voldemort hissed softly. His wand was out, pointing it at the man. The potions master stood up, not falling to his knees like Harry would have thought he’d do.

“My Lord,” he bowed his head toward Harry as he said this. The smaller shifted, feeling a sharp anger coming from the Dark Lord. Green eyes watched emotionlessly as Voldemort cast a Crucio on the falling form of Severus Snape.

The man writhed on the floor, twisting in on himself and rolling on the ground in pain. His gasps were loud and sharp, drawing attention from the distant Death Eaters. Once Harry spotted saliva making its way down the man’s lips, he straightened up. “That’s enough, Tom.” Red eyes glanced at him, sneering, and keeping the curse on. “I said that’s enough. He’s my follower now.”

Snape gave a scream. “Yours? We are in on this together… he betrayed me. He will not get away with this.”

Harry clenched his jaw. “Take it off him.” He ordered again. The man was being impossible again. Gone was Tom Riddle and back again was Lord Voldemort. “He needs to stay conscious in order to answer our questions. And he’s under my protection.” Voldemort didn’t seem as if he’d be lifting the curse anytime soon.

Harry stepped closer, raising his hand; he used his magic to divert the Crucio away from Severus. Voldemort hissed in displeasure. Ignoring the man, Harry stood above a panting Severus, watching as the man gathered his senses. Subconsciously, he gave off calming waves and took away the pain. He couldn’t take away the ache, but he figured Snape deserved as much for being a spy for the Dark Lord.

“That will be your punishment, Snape.” Harry spoke softly, unemotionally. “For betraying the Dark Lord. The only reason you’re not dead is because you vowed your loyalty to me. Let’s hope you don’t betray that trust either.”

Voldemort came to a stop directly behind him, sneering down at the potions professor. “Who is the figurehead for the light?” The Dark Lord inquired. “Is it Rufus Scrimgeour?”

“One of them,” Severus tried to get himself together and sit on his knees before the two wizards.

Harry frowned, feeling something tighten in his chest. “And who is the other?”

Black eyes looked up at Harry, raising his eyebrows. “Albus Dumbledore.”

A/n: I deleted my earlier authors note because I didn't want to create the drift I had caused. D: It wasn't my intention. I was responding to an anonymous reviewer with an authors note and if you haven't seen it yet, XXsneakydevx, I'd like you to email me (considering you don't have an account). We have a few things to discuss. My email is darkemeraldstar(at)yahoo(dot)com