My Past Will Always Catch Up

Title: My Past Will Always Catch up
Author: Allanasha Ke Kiri
Summary: After the deaths of both Ron and Hermione in their seventh year, Harry ran. The pressure was too much; they thought he’d be back, after he realized they needed him. But he never returned, just ran and hid in the one place he was sure no one would look for him.
Rating: M
Warnings: Sexual content

"Speaking"
'Thinking'

Chapter 4 – Voldemort


When he’d first seen the … establishment that Harry Potter worked in, he couldn’t help the curl of disgust his lips did. He met Lucius out front, who seemed no more impressed than he was. Behind him, three of his Death Eaters had accompanied him, they, however, didn’t seem surprised. Of course, he’d demanded their accompaniment simply because they had been there before.

The inside of the building was just as muggle as the outside was, and Voldemort found himself wondering if anything would be worth sitting here.

“There’s a table over here, my lord,” Nott told him, motioning to the right.

Voldemort waved them off, and the three Death Eater preceded him to the table. He swept after him (briefly missing his robes) and took the seat that would give him the best view of the stage. Lucius sat in the remaining chair.

Before long, the muggles started coming onstage. Both Voldemort and Lucius were not impressed. It was just like muggles to expose themselves in such a way. A glance to the side told him that the other three weren’t paying much attention to the stripping muggles either. They appeared to be waiting.

Voldemort leaned back in his seat, bored.

An hour or so after the ‘show’ began, Harry Potter walked onstage. No, Voldemort corrected, he didn’t walk; he prowled. He looked every bit a predator in a pair of tight black jeans and fishnet top (he still didn’t understand the purpose of those). Voldemort sat up. Even the look in his eyes was different. Instead of the blank uncaring look he’d had during their conversation earlier, they now held a hungry gleam, lustful as he gazed out at the crowd. To his right, the Death Eater’s inhaled sharply.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” a voice boomed, causing Lucius to startle. From the side of the stage, another muggle appeared holding a microphone (at least that’s what he thought they were called, he’d been away from the muggle world too long to be completely sure). “Over a year ago, we experimented,” he said. “Tonight, we do it again. Raven, choose your victim.

At the man’s words, a smirk lit upon his lips as Harry … no it was easier to think of him as Raven, moved off the stage, weaving his way through the seated muggles. They turned, watching him, but none of them reached out to him, as Voldemort had seen them do to others.

'Interesting,' he thought.

All eyes were on the dark haired man, silently waiting for his decision. Something began rising in the air, and with a start he realized that he recognized it.

Sex Magic. But how Harry Potter, or Raven was able to do it without remembering anything was even more intriguing. He was fairly certain he hadn’t been taught how to do it before either, as it wasn’t exactly something one could use on a battlefield. As his eyes stayed glued to the, until then, missing wizard, he had to wonder how he’d managed it, because it was definitely not something Harry Potter would have known how to do.

Though it did explain some of the things he’d seen in Harry’s head, like why the muggles were so taken with him when he never showed any more skin than that which he arrived on stage with.

Finally, Raven came to a stop a little in front of their table, circling it until he reached a red-head, bending down so that his head was right next to the man’s ear, a hand resting on the table to balance himself. He never once touched the man, but Voldemort could see his eyes close and seemed to be restraining himself. He nodded once and Raven pulled away, pointing at the man.

Immediately, two large men came forward and pulled the man from his seat.

“They call them bouncers,” Nott told him, softly. “Meant to keep the muggle dancers safe,”

Voldemort nodded once, dismissively as he watched the muggle get led to the stage. Raven followed behind them, calmly, smoothly, obviously aware that every eye was on him. Even Voldemort found his eyes raking his eyes over the lithe form. By the time he returned to the stage, the man’s wrists were locked in manacles that hung from the ceiling, and the man with the microphone was talking again.

“Now, for everyone’s safety, this ends as soon as our volunteer screams. You understand that Raven? No getting carried away now.” The man smiled, laughing lightly.

Raven however, simply nodded once and turned to a table that had been set up in his absence. “He screams, I stop,” he drawled smoothly. “Pity.”

A man from a table next to theirs groaned and Voldemort had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. Though he did agree that the young man’s tone was … more than interesting, he would not be so blasé as to vocalize it. He was very happy to realize that none of his Death Eaters were either.

Raven’s hand skimmed over the offered tools before he finally picked one up. Voldemort leaned forward, his interest growing when he realized the young man held a knife. He ran his finger along the blade as he moved into eyesight of his victim. Calmly, he pulled it away and slipped his finger between his lips, sucking the blood clean. Several strangled groans filtered up from the crowd. Voldemort wasn’t entirely sure it was just the result of the sex magic that permeated the air.

Raven slowly closed the distance between him and the red-head, raising his left hand and trailing a finger down the man’s chest. Several gasps rang through the room, including two of his own Death Eater’s. Neither of them seemed to notice Voldemort’s gaze on them. Nott did.

“Raven never touches anyone,” he murmured, keeping his explanation quiet. “It’s forbidden for anyone to touch him without his consent … to touch any of them without their consent, but he’s the only one that doesn’t allow it, ever. This is the first time I’ve ever seen him touch someone.”

Voldemort nodded once, to show that he’d heard before turning his attention back to the stage, where Raven was running the knife over the man’s skin. The man seemed to tremble under it. His eyes closed as Raven leaned in and gently kissed the flesh, making sure he was in a position that everyone could see what he was doing. When he leaned back, he brought the knife up once more and carefully cut the skin, the blade cutting through the spot his lips had touched.

The man hissed sharply, his eyes closing. Pulling the knife away, Raven leaned in once more, but instead of a kiss, his tongue darted out, running along the cut and catching the blood as it spilled from the flesh. Voldemort found his eyes trained on Raven’s tongue as it worked its way up the flesh and back into his mouth. The young man’s eyes closed, as if relishing the taste before bringing up the knife once more.

He whispered something to the chained man, and everyone watched him shiver. Voldemort wondered what Raven had told him.

----------------

After the show, Voldemort and his four Death Eaters waited outside.

“Oh, come on, Rae. It’ll be fun, I promise.”

Their attention shifted to the alleyway next to the club.

“I have a prior engagement early tomorrow,” Raven’s voice filtered out from the alley.

“We wont keep you out late,” a second voice added as four figures appeared in the mouth of the alley.

Raven shook his head. “I’m afraid I have to decline.”

“Tomorrow night then,” one of the unknown Muggles said, a blond. “We wont take no for an answer. You either come with us then, or we drag you along tonight.”

Raven blinked at them before nodded. “Very well, tomorrow.”

“Your word?” A second blond said, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.

Raven nodded. “My word on it.”

“Great, I’ll call you sometime tomorrow afternoon.”

“Not before 4,” he said. “I wont be in until then.”

They nodded. “Right, see you then, Rae,” the only brunette said before his eyes caught sight of the four men standing out front. “Can we help you gentlemen?” he asked, smiling politely.

“We’re here for Raven,” Voldemort said.

“Rae doesn’t take customer’s,” he said, his smile turning seductive.

Raven snorted. “They’re not here for that. They say they know me.”

All of the boys turned to blink at Raven.

“Another one?” the second blond asked. “Bloody hell, you’d think they’d give up.”

“You guys just sod off, would you?” the first said, glaring at them. “Raven’s not gonna buy your stories, he’s heard them all before.”

Raven, who was now behind them, blinked, looking amused. “They say they have proof.”

This caused all three men to turn back towards Raven, shocked once again. “Really?”

“Rae, are you sure?”

Raven shrugged, his eyes on Voldemort. “We’ll see, wont we?”

“You want us to stay, mate?”

Raven’s head jerked over to the first blond.

“Don’t look at me like that. Whether you like it or not, we’re mates.”

“I’m fine,” Raven said, seeming to overlook what had just been said, and the fact that the others were nodding in agreement.

Voldemort could hardly contain the sneer. Muggles were disgusting.

“I’m sure I could hold my own,” Raven continued, offering them a small smile, one that looked a little awkward.

The three men gave another glance towards the Death Eaters and nodded. “Alright. We’ll be calling you tomorrow at four.”

Raven nodded, and Voldemort took it for what it was, a warning. As much as he despised it, it would appear he’d have to let Harry remain in the muggle world, until he gave him that proof. Of course, then he’d force the young man to return with him. He’d rather the muggles didn’t start a search before then.

Raven watched the three men head off towards the parking lot before crossing to Voldemort.

“I’d thought you’d have left by now,” he drawled.

“Of course not. You’re coming back with us.”

Just because he knew he’d have to leave Raven, doesn’t mean he’d let the young man stay without a struggle.

Raven shook his head. “No. I have prior engagements that require my presence here. If I don’t show people will worry.”

“They wont find us,” Voldemort said. “I have no reason to worry.”

“You still haven’t shown me your proof,” Raven countered, cool eyes narrowing. “I’m not willingly going with you until I get it.”

'Willingly, an interesting choice of phrase.'

“I could force you to come,” Voldemort told him. “But I wont, on one condition.”

Raven raised an eyebrow. “And that is?”

“Nott will remain with you at all times.”

Raven scowled. “I hardly need to be babysat,” he said.

“I think otherwise, Harry. Your decision?”

An angry sigh was his only response. “Fine,” he said. “But this guy had better not get in my way. I’ve got things to do, places to go.”

“I’m sure he will be most accommodating, wont you, Theodore?”

“Of course, my lord,” Nott replied, glancing at Raven. The young man returned his glance, not at all looking nonplussed.

“Very well,” Voldemort said. “I will see you in four days, Harry, with your proof.”

Raven barely had a chance to nod before Voldemort disapparated.

***

This chapter hates me. Really. First of all, it kept trying to return to first person, and I didn’t want that. First person is Harry’s POV and only Harry’s POV. It’s partly how I’m going to remember which person I’m writing as.

Now, the general consensus was that I should remain in Harry’s first person, and for the most part, I will. Occasionally, I’ll switch to Voldemort’s … or someone else’s, but both (all) of them will be in third person, and will usually be noted at the top of the chapter.

I’m sorry about the club scene. I’d meant to do more with that … but my muse drew a blank … sorry.