The Divine Darkness

Chapter 18:Still in the Dark

Emerald eyes snapped open and then closed with a crinkle. Lips cascaded down his neck, tugging playfully at the bandage wrapped around his throat. Harry was crushed against the mattress and the hard body above him. "You fool," Harry hissed softly, feeling better talking in Parseltongue than in English. Still, his throat burned, reminding him of what had transpired yesterday. "If you were anyone else, I'd have you convulsing on the floor."

"I see no problem with that. I'd even do it for you." Voldemort hissed back, getting playful with his tongue. It moistened the shell of his ear with saliva. Harry shuddered, feeling content and unhappy at the same time. That was what the Dark Lord did to him. He gave him conflicting emotions, emotions that were opposites in each other. Cold and hot, comfortable and uncomfortable, hazy mind and utterly aware...

"Possessive..." Harry scolded. "That's unbecoming." Even in snake language, his voice sounded hoarse.

"I see nothing wrong with being possessive of my Match." Harry opened his eyes, turning around to face the Dark Lord. His hands were clutching the man's face, holding him back.

"What did you want?" Crimson eyes narrowed on him.

"Whoever said I can't just...lay with you?" Voldemort pushed away his hands and dived back to caress his sore neck with his mouth.

Harry scoffed, wincing as his throat protested with the hearty sound. Merlin. He was going to have difficulty talking this coming...month. "A Dark Lord doesn't just lay, he has an alternative motive." Looking at the ceiling of his bedroom, he contemplated on how long he had been sleeping. And if his parent's were staying far away from this room as possible. "You want sex, don't you?"

The Dark Lord hissed in laughter "I always want sex with you, Harrison. But I'm afraid with your throat not working properly; you won't be able to scream as pleasingly as much as I want you to. And those lovely sounds you make...I couldn't imagine experiencing your first time without a sound." Voldemort murmured silkily. "And I need to hear you beg me, Harrison." Harry grinned, feeling his throat burn with just the prospect of screaming. Merlin, that wouldn't exactly feel good. Voldemort pulled away eventually, just as Harry started to doze off again.

Crimson eyes stared down at him, the man's black hair a slight mess. "What happened with Octavio?"

Harry turned away from him, looking at the wall across the room. His room. His thoughts were brought back to the Death Demon. What Octavio had gone through as a child was unfair. Surely Harry would to the same to his enemies if they ate his mother like Octavio's father had eaten the Seer's lover, but he would never play with a child like Octavio. Children were rather...innocent in Harry's mind. They didn't understand what was happening around them, and they surely didn't understand why they were being targeted by a Seer for something their father did.

"I..." Harry whispered; his lips barely moving. "That is something between Octavio and I."

He could feel Voldemort's anger. "Ah," he murmured. "I see." The man's spidery fingers tugged at the chain around his neck. "You should know that the Demon got away." Bitter, but he was hiding it rather well. Harry frowned, his face still turned away from Voldemort. There was something off about the Dark Lord. "I will be doing the Cannius Ritual in a week's time."

Harry turned slowly to face the man, seeing no expression on that handsome face. "The ritual with Draco and the other four..." Harry hissed, surveying Voldemort's face, a sign for anything. "You sharing magic," a grin lifted on Harry's face. With almost childlike wonder, Harry reached out to touch Voldemort's cheek. "You promise me, this won't harm Draco?"