Indelible

Hello. It has been a while, but still. I’m back from Venice this week, and I updated THE LAMBS as promised, but I didn’t work on BLACK COMPLICATION sorry. Here is an update for this fiction, and I hope you enjoy it.

Filler chapter – Yay?

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Words: 2,009
Chapter 15
Moving On
January 27th 1996.

The sound of his moans echoes through the room. The only other sound was that of flesh slapping against flesh. Harry arched his back, his fingers carding through silky black hair as the person on top of him leant down to kiss him. Tom grinned at his lover as Harry tried to pull him into a second kiss.

“No, no, dearest,” Tom breathed out softly, “I’m in charge right now.”

Tom pulled his face back, still smirking at Harry, as one of his hands moved down to wrap around Harry’s swollen cock. The younger boy groaned, his hands tugging at Tom’s hair.

“Oh please, oh please,” he begged, much to Tom’s delight.

“I want you to come for me Harry.” Tom’s thrusting sped up, he frantically moved against the other boy, moaning desperately as Harry’s hands moved lower to cup his arse.

“Come with me,” Harry asked.

Tom groaned, his eyes widened before he dropped his head to rest between Harry’s shoulder and neck. He kissed the expanse of flesh softly, moaning, “I’m coming, I’m coming.”

Harry cried out as his orgasm spread over him. He lay panting, as Tom continued to move within him. Tom suddenly let out a terrified scream, and a bright white light flooded the room. Harry squeezed his eyes closed, turning his face away and clamping his hands over his ears. When the light was gone, Harry frowned as he realized Tom wasn’t lying on top of him anymore. He opened his eyes and sat up, but he couldn’t see Tom anywhere.

Instead, a fine sprinkling of dust was falling from the ceiling down onto his body. It stuck to the sweat on his skin and he frantically tried to brush it off, but more and more kept falling. As the dust fell it swirled around in the air spelling out ‘I Am Lord Voldemort’. Harry screamed and dived off of the bed.

Dumbledore watched from the corner of the room as Harry desperately tried to rid himself of the ashes, but they just kept falling on him, and him alone. The floor was spotless.

Harry woke with a scream, for the tenth day running. As with the last five days, Voldemort had crawled into the bed moments before Harry woke. The second the brunette’s eyes snapped open, Voldemort pulled him into a hug and began rocking him lightly. His hand carded through Harry’s hair, brushing it out of his eyes. He kissed the boys forehead lightly. Even after the Horcrux was destroyed, Harry still had his scar.

“Love you,” Voldemort whispered holding Harry tight to his chest. “I’ll make it ok, I will, I will.” He promised futilely. He realized there was no point making a new Horcrux to replace Tom, and there was no way to return a Horcrux to life.

Harry sniffled. He knew there was nothing anyone could do for him other than be there. He just needed them there, needed them with him to make him heal faster or better or whatever. He didn’t care: as long as he wasn’t alone.

Most of all, Harry needed Him. But He wasn’t here, so Harry just pretended.

“I love you too Tom.” Voldemort stiffened but didn’t say anything. He kept quiet for the next hour, merely holding Harry and rocking him, until the boy calmly pulled away and stepped out of the bed. “Thank you.” Harry said without looking at Voldemort. Voldemort didn’t answer. He just squeezed Harry’s shoulder and left the room silently.

Once he was out of the room, Voldemort closed the door and leant back against it with a sigh. “God damn it,” he cursed softly, his fists clenching at his side. He couldn’t compete with the ghost of himself, he couldn’t. But he couldn’t make himself stay away from Harry either.

Harry stayed in the room until he was sure Voldemort was gone. Only then did he make his way to the dining room. He didn’t speak to anyone, but he nodded or shook his head when someone asked him a question, which was a big improvement to a fortnight ago when he would only burst into tears. He even smiled once or twice when Sirius made a joke.

Voldemort watched him with a fond smile. Harry may never love him, he thought, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t love Harry. Well, he could be a friend to Harry at the least.

XXX

January 30th 1996.

Voldemort was rather pleased with himself. He watched as Fenrir Greyback led the werewolves into the ballroom of Malfoy Manor. The ballroom was where the Death Eaters held their meetings. The wolves sat around the edges of the rooms, in human form and shirtless, and eyed the masked men and woman with obvious hunger.

“We didn’t catch much last night,” Fenrir said in explanation and Remus shuddered. Remus and Sirius were standing at the front of the room, beside Voldemort’s throne. Lucius stood to the throne’s right. Voldemort was walking towards the door, nodded at Fenrir and shook his hand. He looked out into the hallway for a moment before realizing that Harry obviously wouldn’t be joining them again, despite being invited, and slammed the door.

He dropped into his throne, gave a smug smile and welcomed the werewolves.

As everyone filled out of the room, Severus Snape was the one who hurried the most. He flooed back to his quarters at Hogwarts and then into Albus’ office.

“Headmaster,” he greeted as he took a seat. Dumbledore nodded and steepled his fingers beneath his chin. “The werewolves have joined the Dark Lord,” he said quickly, getting straight to the point.

“That is unfortunate.” Dumbledore murmured. “Anything else?”

Severus remembered the presence of Sirius Grey – who was really the escaped criminal Sirius Black – and Remus Lupin. He considered telling Dumbledore, before remembering that this was the man who had condemned Lily’s innocent son to Azkaban, and then later kidnapped and tried to kill the same boy. This man was the reason Draco had been so out of sorts lately.

“No, nothing else, Headmaster.” Severus said eventually.

“Very well, you may leave.” Severus walked slowly from the room, hands clenched but hidden beneath the sleeves of his robes, and he ignored the headmaster’s offer of lemon drops.

XXX

January 30th 1996. Same time.

The moon had been full the three nights before. Now it hung in the air, merely a silver slither of its former self and Harry frowned as he watched it. He almost felt a kinship between him and the moon. Once upon a time, they had been full, complete. Now there was barely any of themselves left. Just a tiny strip of what they used to be, a shell almost empty, hanging desolately surrounded by black, despairing darkness. Harry sighed and leant back against the trunk of the tree he had been standing under. He allowed himself to sink to the ground, his legs tucked up against his chest.

It was a warm night, especially for late winter and Harry was only wearing a shirt and trousers. There was no coat, no robe, gloves or scarf, but he didn’t feel what little chill there was in the air. Lately he found it hard to feel anything but fear and guilt.

The overwhelming sense of desperation sometimes flooded his very being, but it was a little easier to claw his way out of that black hole when Voldemort was around. It was cruel and unfair, because Harry did know and understand that Voldemort cared for him. But it hurt and Harry just needed someone, anyone, who could remind him of Tom. At least for a while. Everyone kept telling him that it would grow easier in time; Harry didn’t particularly believe them because it didn’t feel like he would ever get better. He would always love and miss and grieve for Tom, but he hoped he wouldn’t always wake up and wish he could die. He could not bear to live every day for the rest of his life feeling such hopeless.

Malfoy Manor had wonderful gardens, and each time Voldemort had a Death Eater meeting Harry chose to wonder the gardens instead of see Voldemort behaving like himself and not Tom.

He was sitting by the tree still, watching a small flock of albino peacocks wander past, when someone came up behind him. He didn’t so much hear them as he did feel them breathing over him. He tensed but the person merely sat down on the ground, on the other side of the tree so they were back to back.

“It gets easier you know.” He said. It was a he, Harry realized, and their voice was deep and gravely, like he had smoked too many cigarettes in his life. Still, there was something attractive about the voice and it made Harry smile just hearing it. It was filled with power, and Harry thought that if the voice told him to climb the tree and jump out of it, he probably would. It just seemed a good idea to listen to what the voice told him; it had nothing to do with hoping the fall might kill him, honest.

“What gets easier?” Harry answered quietly, body tensed. He just knew they were talking about Tom.

“Grief doesn’t last forever, Pup.”

“How would you know!” Harry screamed. He turned around, getting to his knees and glaring at the man that still leant calmly against the tree trunk. His legs were stretched out in front of him, covered by a pair of well-worn blue jeans, and he was shirtless. He turned his head, and flicked back his shoulder length silver hair. He looked to be in his late forties, but Harry realized he was probably much older. After all, werewolves aged slower than humans.

He gave Harry a soft, sad smile. “I’ve lost my fair share of pack mates, Puppy.” He sounded almost patronizing and it made Harry bristle. The stranger gave a bark of laughter. “Now don’t be like that,” he said as Harry went for his wand. “I’m just saying. It ain’t the end of the world, you’ll meet someone new and you’ll make a little space for this old lover of yours so you won’t ever forget him. But it’d be such a waste, especially for a pretty guy like you, to spend the rest of your life hoping he’ll come back to you.” His gray eyes twinkled as the corners of his mouth twitched upwards into a smirk.

“He won’t come back.”

“And why is that?” The man asked, standing up and moving to lean over Harry.

Harry stood too. “He’s dead.” The man was lucky to have extra sensitive hearing, or he would have missed what Harry said.

“Exactly.”

He was walking away by the time Harry managed to respond. “And what’s that supposed to mean?” He had chased after the elder man and grabbed hold of his lightly muscled arm.

“That you’re alive and he is dead, Pup. You should go on living and leave the dead alone. He has no use for you where he is. And you should no longer have use for him. Callous, but true. Life is for the living, kid; you may as well put the others out of their misery and off yourself at this rate.” Harry let go off his arm and sniffled softly.

“Oh,” was all he said in reply. He stared at the ground; thinking over the other mans words and winced at the thought of suicide. The idea that someone could be feeling like him, because of his actions, made him ill. He wouldn’t make anyone feel as horrid as he was feeling over Tom; he wouldn’t.

“Name’s Fenrir Greyback by the way.” He gave a roguish grin, exposing most of his teeth and turned to walk away again. He called over his shoulder as he left the garden, shouting to be heard, “and you’re welcome.”

“Thanks,” Harry whispered after him. He was sure Fenrir could hear him; werewolves had great hearing.

XXX

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Please review and thank you for reading. There are 4 chapters left; 19 in total (16: Friend Or Foe; 17: The Takeover; 18: Battle For Hogwarts; 19: Retribution.)

On another note, I really don’t like THE LAMBS! But since most of my reviewers do, I’ll continue it and see if I think it gets better. If not, then I might either re-write it or delete it and do SOUL SEEKER instead. But, I’ll give it a few more chapters, since I went to the effort of planning it out until the end.