Indelible

I meant meters, whenever I mentioned feet during the last chapter. Distance is relative apparently. And, Dorian Grey actually died when he stabbed his portrait (damn the LXG, getting it wrong).

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AN: “Hayes the Man”, sort of a joke. Marvolo Hayes aka Voldemort. Hayes or He’s, as in he’s the man. Am I the only one who finds that funny?

Words: 4,560
Chapter 8
Hayes The Man
The potion was ready, and just in time as well. It was taking all of Voldemort’s self restraint to stop himself from killing Sirius Black, or hexing Harry at the least. Both of them had spent far too long locked up inside Azkaban, and neither was amenable to the idea of being locked up in Riddle Manor either. But until the potion was ingested, and Harry was introduced to Society they couldn’t afford to be let run loose. Anyone could take it into their heads that Harry and Sirius actually were Harry and Sirius!

With a smirk, Voldemort bottled the potion, into two separate vials and left them to set. He would get the required blood and mix it in just before Harry was to consume his. Black’s could possibly wait a little longer. Voldemort did not need another reason to seek out and spend time with the very annoying other man.

Unlike Harry. Over the past week, he had found himself repeatedly seeking Harry out. There was one day when he and Harry had spent hours talking about books and poetry. “The Picture of Dorian Grey” had come up at one point. Tom had materialized and had stood behind Harry with one arm around the youngest’s waist and the other hand holding open a book.

“You know, Dorian had to stab his portrait before he could die.” Tom drawled waving the book.

“You only just read that now!” Harry accused. Voldemort watched on, partly in amusement but there was also some jealousy there. “And anyway, how was I supposed to know? You’re the reason I spent five years in Azkaban! Where would I have time to read?”

“Four actually.”

“Really? It seemed longer.” Harry hummed lightly before turning to Voldemort. “Did you ever read the book?” And from there the conversation had branched out into other types of literature, different authors and titles. It was one of Voldemort’s most memorable conversations, because just before Harry and Tom left the room, Harry pressed a small kiss to Voldemort’s cheek and whispered, “thanks, for taking care of me.”

There had been other days when Voldemort had sought Harry out in the hopes of being kissed again. But he never did get another kiss. With a smirk, he contemplated the consequences of this potion. If Harry ingested it, he would look like Dorian Grey-Hayes, Marvolo’s son. But, they wouldn’t actually be related. So it wouldn’t matter if Voldemort wanted nothing more than to pin the boy down and ravish him. But would it matter to Harry?

And of course there was the matter of Draco Malfoy. His being gifted to Harry was meant to be a punishment, but the boy didn’t seem to be suffering very much. In fact the blond almost seemed elated every time his father brought him to Riddle Manor. Voldemort was a possessive and jealous person. He was now, and he had been when he was younger, and from what he had gathered of Tom’s feelings for Harry, Voldemort could not understand how Tom could bare to share Harry with Draco. And he didn’t know if he was able to either. Whenever his red eyes fell on the couple they narrowed. It wasn’t so bad when Harry was pressed against Tom, because after all it was simply foolish to be jealous of yourself. But Draco – he was another matter entirely, and Voldemort was unsure of what to do.

He had gifted the boy as a punishment, in the hopes that Harry would decline him, and Lucius would be forced to watch his son die for his mistakes. But Harry kept the boy, but he did not seem to be using the boy, which went against Voldemort’s specific orders. He hated having his orders not followed.

It mattered not, at the moment. Soon, Voldemort would know exactly what was going on.

XXX - mild slash

Draco was at that moment relaxing in the bath. With a soft smile, he thanked the gods that Harry was such a forgiving person. He had no wish to be murdered or to have someone force themselves on him. But a nice bath, well, he wouldn’t complain about that. Even though, despite the silencing charms, Harry was loud enough to hear through the wall.

Draco gave a soft smirk at the thoughts of what Tom was doing to Harry. How Voldemort could believe Harry could dominate anyone, Draco would never understand.

Harry arched his back, giving a loud cry as Tom’s fingers wormed their way inside of him. His legs were spread and both boys were completely naked. Tom hovered over the younger boy, smirking. It was true that Tom was older, but Harry was almost sixteen now, the same age as Tom looked.

A kiss stole Harry’s breath and the boy arched his back again, begging for more attention. Tom’s other hand wrapped around Harry’s cock, stroking it in long, firm tugs, each pull wringing a cry from the boy’s petal pink lips. “Tom please,” he breathed, as Tom pulled his fingers back. The hand continued to stroke Harry though, as Tom lined himself up. With a gasp, he surged forward and Harry found himself blissfully filled.

“Harry,” he breathed, “love you.” It was the first time Tom had said it, and meant it. Harry smiled shyly up at him, before raising his head to beg for another kiss.

“Love you too,” he panted as they rocked together for only the third time. They had only started making love since moving into Riddle Manor. While Tom was sure Voldemort knew something funny was going on, he simply didn’t care as long as Harry was still willing to be with him.

They came together, their chests heaving and their breathing ragged. Tom collapsed onto Harry, his fingers running through the boy’s messy hair. “I love you,” he whispered again, before sensing the presence of someone else in the room.

He looked up and met Voldemort’s narrowed gaze. “It seems I was right.”

Harry was practically purring, as Tom’s fingers carded through his hair and across his cheek and neck. “Hello Marvolo. What are you doing here?”

“The potion is ready,” he muttered stiffly, while glancing at the closed bathroom door.

“Should I start calling you father?” The look of horror that crossed both the younger and older Riddle’s faces caused Harry to burst out laughing.

“Why would you ask something like that while in bed with me? With his younger self?” Harry shrugged and kissed Tom lightly, to shut him up.

“He’s insane,” Voldemort said, looking horrified still.

Harry merely giggled and pushed Tom off of him, “I became insane with long intervals of horrible sanity.1”

Tom rolled his eyes in response, “Ordinarily he is insane, but he has lucid moments when he is only stupid.2” Harry’s mouth dropped open in shock and Voldemort actually let out a chuckle. Tom felt very pleased with himself. He had successfully distracted Voldemort from taking out his anger on Draco. Providing the boy stayed in the bathroom until Voldemort left, the blond would stay safe.

Of course, as is always the way, when you want one thing, the opposite happens.

A soft knock came at the bathroom door, “are you guys done?” Followed the soft voice, and Voldemort’s expression became murderous again.

He tugged the door open and caught the fully dressed Draco by the collar and dragged him from the bathroom. “Crucio!” He shouted, smirking viciously as the boy writhed and shrieked on the floor.

“Stop it,” Harry cried before throwing himself in front of Draco, still naked. Tom watched unfazed from the bed. The sheets were by his feet, and he was bare as the day he was born, but he didn’t seem to care. Everything he had to show, Voldemort had grown up seeing. He had nothing to be ashamed of. “Stop it,” Harry cried again, and Voldemort lifted the curse. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Draco sobbed, his arms coming to wrap around Harry’s waist, his face pressed to Harry’s stomach as the brunette turned to comfort the boy.

“He disobeyed orders, and must be punished accordingly.”

“You told him to please me, to entertain me. Well he does.” Voldemort raised an eyebrow. “He tells me things, things that none of you will, about what happened while I was in Azkaban, about my friends. Trust me, he entertains me.”

“And why should I trust you, Harry Potter?” Voldemort lowered his wand and raised one eyebrow. “I trust no one by myself.”

“Too right, but you forget, I am you. Or at least a part of you.” Their eyes turned to Tom, and Voldemort knew, regardless of whether Tom was him or not, the other part of his soul would side with Harry.

“Very well.” His wand touched the crown of Draco’s head and the boy let out a frightened gasp as his throat and wrists began to heat up. Voldemort snarled, “leave,” and Draco jumped away from Harry and ran from the room. He didn’t seem to notice that the bracelets and the collar were lying on the floor at Harry’s feet. “He no longer belongs to you.”

“Very well, but he’s still my friend.”

Harry went into the bathroom to get dressed and Tom sighed and stood from the bed. “Why do you care about Malfoy?” Voldemort asked curiously.

“I do not. I care for Harry, and Harry cares for Draco, and so I do what I must to make sure the person I care about it happy.” He was dressed when he heard Harry speaking to him.

“Is he still being a prick?”

“No, I think he’s calmed down. Come, take your potion so we can have your Ball and be done.” Tom folded his arms over his chest as he faced Voldemort. “We’ll have to take him shopping first. He has nothing to wear to a Ball.”

“The potion first,” Voldemort reminded, not having heard the mental conversation.

“Naturally,” he drawled with a smirk as Harry emerged from the bathroom and rushed over to hug Tom.

“I am sorry, Harry.” Voldemort actually twitched as he said the s-word.

“You don’t owe me an apology.” His eyes narrowed in a way that suggested Voldemort should apologize to Draco soon. “Where did Draco go? I thought he was coming shopping with us?”

“Potion first.” Both Riddles said together. “I’ll fetch Black, you bring him to the study.” Voldemort added.

XXX

The potion had worked the way it was expected to. Voldemort’s blood had been added first, and then Harry’s. When Harry had swallowed it the effects had begun to set in instantly. The boy was now about three inches taller and his hair had lost the ‘Potter’ look, instead it hung to his shoulders and was straight with a slight curl at the end. His eyes were still green, but so had Tom’s been. His face was narrower, his cheekbones more defined, but otherwise he looked the same as always.

It had been much harder to get Sirius to drink his potion. Instead of adding Voldemort’s blood, they had Narcissa volunteer some of hers before forcefully adding Sirius’ and making him drink it. The fact that Narcissa was his cousin meant that not much of Sirius’ looks would change, but enough to make him passable in a public place. His hair was a shade or two lighter, and instead of grey eyes, his were now the same shade of pale blue as Draco’s mother. He was a tiny bit shorter now as well.

“Sirius Grey,” Voldemort smirked slightly, “an unfortunate name considering, but it is very good of you to accompany my son here, so soon after the unfortunate death of your sister.”

“Yes, yes,” Sirius groused. “I’ll miss Emily loads, but I wasn’t going to let them ship her kid off to parts unknown alone.”

Harry sighed. “Try to act like you actually miss Emily ok? I mean, mum.” Tom snickered, in Harry’s head, because it was now Harry who wasn’t trying hard enough. “Shut up Tom.” He hissed menacingly.

Harry watched Draco out of the corner of his eyes. The blond was practically hiding behind both of his parents. Narcissa looked thrilled that Draco had been freed; while Lucius looked terrified that something worse was in store. Draco met his gaze and smiled.

’Still friends?’ Harry mouthed and Draco nodded back, still smiling softly.

Their trip to Diagon Alley had gone without incident. Lucius and Narcissa accompanied Draco, Harry and Sirius around the stores. As Draco was more Tom’s size than Harry was, he was forced to try on clothes for himself and for the other Wizard, not that he minded much. Harry and Sirius had to be held in place while they were forced to fit clothing on.

“Hey Dorian?” He turned to face Draco. “Want to talk about it?” Harry just shook his head. “It is a common delusion that you make things better by talking about them,3” Draco insisted.

“It’s stupid,” Harry said with a laugh, “but I’m terrified I’m going to mess everything up by forgetting that my name is Dorian, or by defending myself when people start bad mouthing Harry Potter.”

“You’ll be fine. You’ll have me, and you only have to get through one night at the Ball.” Harry reached over and gave Draco a quick hug. He pulled back with a groan, as Madame Malkin came towards them with an armful of more clothing.

They got their wands next and Tom came forward, borrowing Harry’s body to test out a new wand. He didn’t want to keep using Harry’s because if they ever got separated Harry would be wandless. Sirius Grey bought a new wand as well. “Goodbye Mr Black, Mr Riddle,” Olivander said with a smirk as they left. Both men cursed softly as they left the shop.

The Ball was set for the following night, and everyone who was anyone was there.

Harry, however, was desperately trying to get out of it. He was supposed to be down stairs in exactly twenty minutes, but he still wasn’t dressed and Tom and Draco were having a hell of a time forcing him into his robes. “No! I’ll trip over them and fall down the stairs!”

“Fine, these robes?” Tom suggested holding up another set.

“No! I’ll look fat in those!” He whined. “People will laugh.”

Draco sighed, “these ones?”

“Couldn’t I just not go?” Both of the other Wizards glared at him.

Harry finally settled on a deep emerald robe, which was open down the front except for two buttons just above his diaphragm. Underneath he wore a much simpler black robe that was complete buttoned up and acted as a petticoat of sorts. The emerald robe trailed on the floor behind him and was very loose, while the black one was tight and clung to all of the boy’s curves, before loosening at the feet so Harry could walk. A emerald ribbon was tied into the left side of Harry’s hair, tying it so the scar was covered.

Salazar Slytherins locket hung around his neck, the gold serpent pendant resting above his heart, and the buttons of the robe. A silver ring, with a green stone, the colour of Harry’s eyes, rested on his right hand. It had the Hayes family crest engraved into the stone, and the words Aut captantur, aut captant 4 engraved into the silver ring. It was, apparently, the Hayes family motto, which was handed down to the Gaunt family, and before that, handed down from the Slytherin family. Black dragon hide boots completed the outfit.

“You look gorgeous.” Draco breathed, before turning to Tom. “You’re really lucky.”

“And he loves me, too.” Tom quipped with a soft smile at the blushing brunette. Harry ducked his head.

”Come on, before I’m late.” Tom faded away, and the familiar presence was once again pressing against his mind, calming Harry instantly. Draco took his hand and gave it a squeeze.

They may not have been friends before Azkaban, but after being given to Harry and expected to service him, but never actually being put through that, had shown Draco a side to Harry he had always wanted to get to know. The loyal part of the boy, that heroic portion of the Gryffindor’s soul. And Draco was very proud to call Harry his friend now.

Heaven’s Haze was the name of the Manor in which the party was to take place. It had once belonged to the Hayes family, but now Voldemort had full possession of it, and whenever Marvolo Hayes needed to make an appearance – for it was well known that the man travelled – Heaven’s Haze was where his mail was directed. And tonight, for one night only, it housed most of the Wizarding World.

They were all gathered to celebrate the coming out of Marvolo’s recently found son. And of course, everyone was instantly curious as to where this boy had come from, whether he was adopted, hidden away for his own protection, or merely a bastard heir. It mattered not what the answer was, people just wanted to say they’d been there, for the sake of being there of course.

Harry licked his lips, and, still holding Draco’s hand, they made their way to the entrance hall. Sirius and Voldemort, as well as Draco’s parents, met them. “You ok?” Harry just nodded and Draco let go of his hand. The doors opened and the Malfoy’s entered first.

Sirius squeezed his shoulder lightly, “you know, now you’ll have to call me Uncle Sirius.” Harry elbowed him lightly but laughed.

“Are you ready?” Voldemort asked and Harry nodded. “You may call me Marvolo, it will be acceptable, as we have just ‘met’.” Unknown to nearly everybody, Voldemort was able to change his appearance at will. A much stronger version of Tonk’s metamorphosis ability. He now looked, much like he always did, but his eyes were the same burning emerald colour as Harry’s, and his lips were the same petal pink. Harry frowned. Voldemort looked much nicer with the almost red colour lips he and Tom shared.

The doors opened once again, and a house elf called out, “may I introduce Marvolo Hayes, our host.” Voldemort walked forward, his eyes swept over the crowd. He looked slightly surprised to see nearly all of the Order of the Phoenix there, including Dumbledore. “May I introduce Master Dorian Grey, our hosts son, and his uncle Sirius Grey?”

Both entered the room. Voldemort’s hand was on Harry’s shoulder, and he noticed with some amount of jealousy how much attention Harry’s looks received. “Stay close to Draco.” Voldemort hissed. People knew better than to try and take something from a Malfoy, and Voldemort couldn’t very well claim his ‘son’ for himself.

Sirius walked forward, ignoring every single part of his upbringing that screamed to wait for the host to descend the stairs first, and with a chuckle he sat on the banister… and slid down.

Voldemort, and most of the crowd, watched in shock and dismay. But Harry giggled which made Sirius almost glow in happiness. Harry and Voldemort walked slowly down the stairs. Voldemort walked slowly, because it was decorum, and Harry walked slowly because he was terrified of tripping. He hadn’t worn robes like these ever, and he hadn’t had to go near stairs since before Azkaban.

When they reached the bottom every body began to clap lightly, and Voldemort led the boy towards the Malfoys. Everyone they passed on the way gave a polite bow. Voldemort left Harry with Draco, before leaving them in order to answer questions he knew many people would have.

Harry and Draco grinned at each other. “Can we go?” Draco asked his parents. Narcissa nodded immediately, but Lucius gave them a searching look. “We’re not going to do anything. I thought I could introduce him to some of my friends.” Lucius finally nodded. “Come on, Dorian.”

The night was half way through, and Voldemort had answered most people’s questions to their satisfaction. However, just when they all thought it was going so well, a hand closed over Harry’s arm and pulled him away from Draco. He was lost in the crowd almost immediately. He spun around angrily, very glad he was able to exchange Tom’s new wand with the other boy, like they used to do with his. It hadn’t occurred to him to get a new wand: people would recognize Harry’s old one.

”What do you think you’re doing?” He growled, the long yew wand didn’t waver in the slightest even as he took in the nervous faces of Fred and George Weasley. Beside them, wringing her hands was Hermione Granger.

“Harry? Is that you?” She whispered as Fred’s hand shot forward and pulled at the emerald ribbon. His fringe fluttered, revealing his scar briefly before Harry spelled the ribbon back into his hair.

“My name is Dorian Grey.”

“Yes, yes, ‘the portrait of’, very funny.” Hermione said with a smile. “We’ve missed you so much. We tried so hard to get you out of Azkaban, but Dumbledore always stopped us. Remus even asked the Werewolf Alpha for help, and Remus hates Greyback.” She pulled him against her in a crushing hug. By now, people had started to turn and watch her.

With a growl, Voldemort advanced on them. “If you wouldn’t mind, remove your hands from my son.” Hermione squeaked but let go nonetheless as Voldemort glared at each of the three in turn. “Dorian?”

“I’m fine,” the boy smiled. He was slightly shaken by the fact that his old friends seemed happy to see him, but he had to remind himself that they weren’t his friends anymore. He had Draco, and Tom, and Sirius, and that was all he needed.

“But, his scar!” Fred protested obviously not catching on that Harry was a wanted criminal in hiding.

“His scar?” Voldemort snarled, his eyes flicking towards it briefly before they shot back to the redheaded boy. The boy’s mother was there now, while his father and Lucius glared angrily at one another. Draco’s arm came around Harry’s waist again. He was obviously the more dominant of the two when left to his own devices.

“That is a funny story, actually.” Sirius said coming up behind the group. “I remember like it was yesterday. Dorian was eight, and Emily, my sister, was reading about your famous Harry Potter in our paper, ‘Arc Angel’. Dorian was of course enthralled. He went on for days about wanting a scar just like Potter’s. Then, and this is the funny part, about a week later Emily was reading the paper again, and Dorian took it from her and ran off to read it himself. And he tripped, and fell head first out of the window. He’s lucky to be alive, if it wasn’t for Emily’s pet griffin, well, Dorian would be kaput as we say back in Russia.” Sirius paused for emphasis. “And now, he has a scar just like Potters.”

“Yes, very amusing to hear about how my son nearly died.” Voldemort rolled his eyes.

Sirius merely grinned, “I have plenty of stories like that one. Dorian was always almost dying.” He punched Harry lightly in the shoulder with a grin. Dorian merely grinned back. How Sirius came up with such a random story on the spot like that, he would never know, but he was grateful for it. “There was this one time-”

Voldemort steered Draco and Harry away, leaving the others to listen to Sirius prattle on. “Malfoy,” Voldemort started but was interrupted by the arrival of Albus Dumbledore.

The man stood beside them, grinning, with Severus on one side of him and Minerva on the other. “Now my boy, it’s good to meet you. Dorian wasn’t it?”

“Yes sir,” he tried not to curse the old man. Voldemort’s eyes narrowed.

“Well, Dorian, I look forward to seeing you at Hogwarts this coming year.” Albus’ eyes twinkled.

“Hogwarts?” Voldemort growled.

Severus sneered, “yes, Hogwarts, Marvolo. He looks to be a fifth or sixth year.”

“Fifth,” Minerva said with a small glare at Dumbledore. Obviously the boy had not intended to go to the school, his father had probably arranged to have him home schooled. It was very unbecoming to force this conversation on some body.

“Yes, well, you must attend now that you’ve been invited especially, you know.” Dumbledore smirked. He held no love for Marvolo Hayes, and was enjoying the way the man’s hands clenched at his sides. Dorian looked a little uncomfortable, but strangely, the boy also looked excited.

“If Marvolo agrees,” Dorian whispered before turning to watch the man. Draco looked faintly pleased by the conversation, as his eyes met the Dark Lord’s as well.

“We shall see.” Voldemort hissed, before taking both boys by the elbow and leading them away. They looked up in time to see Remus Lupin throw himself at Sirius.

“Hey Moony,” Sirius whispered. “Long time no see.”

“Missed you Padfoot,” the Werewolf whimpered hugging the man tighter. “Sirius Grey!” He shouted, making a show on purpose. “How dare you not write to me in so long?”

“I didn’t want to upset you. It’s a little difficult having the same name as that murder ex-friend of yours.” Sirius shrugged and grinned when Remus frowned at his words.

“Old friends, are we?” Voldemort drawled as he stopped beside them. “Good, then Lupin you are expected to watch over my son at Hogwarts next year.” He pushed Dorian towards the Werewolf, turned on his heel and stormed towards the liquor cabinet.

“You’re going to Hogwarts?” Remus and Sirius both asked in surprise.

“So it seems.” Harry grinned at Draco. “Hope I’m in Slytherin.”

“You are the man!” Sirius gave him a high five.

Draco smirked slightly, before looking at the blue eyes man. “Yes, Hayes the man.” Harry frowned briefly, trying to working it out, or sharing the joke with Tom, one or the other. But moments later, he burst into giggles, which set Draco off, as well as Sirius.

Lucius and Narcissa approached them a moment after they had composed themselves. “You’re engaged.” Lucius told his son. The boy’s mouth dropped open ad his face paled.

“I’m fifteen!” He protested.

“The Dark Lord has engaged you to Dorian. As such you will be sharing a suit at Hogwarts, with a teacher of your choice.”

Draco seemed to realize it was only to protect Harry, and he was not actually meant to get married so soon. With a nod towards the brunette, he waited for Harry to choose. “Remus, if you wouldn’t mind.”

“I’d be honoured, master Dorian.” Remus smirked in Sirius’ direction.

The man was pouting. He cast a wary glance in Voldemort’s direction before asking, “as Uncle and Godfather, and boyfriend to the teacher, can I visit?”

“NO!” Voldemort’s voice travelled across the room, as if he were standing right beside them. Sirius scuffed his shoes off the floor as he sulked, and Dumbledore looked over with a frown on his face only to be met with smirking faces from Draco, Harry and Remus. He briefly wondered if he was in too far over his head, before he shook the thought off.

No, he was doing the right thing. That boy could be perfect as their next saviour. He only needed the right encouragement.

XXX

1 I became insane with long intervals of horrible sanity – Edgar Allen Poe.

2 Ordinarily he is insane, but he has lucid moments when he is only stupid – Heinrich Heine.

3 It is a common delusion that you make things better by talking about them – Dame Rose McCaulay.

4 Aut captantur, aut captant: You're either betrayed, or you betray

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Anyway, thanks again, and please keep reviewing. Don’t forget, the boys are going into their Fifth year now.


I have an idea for a new fiction that came to me in a dream, honestly. It’s called “Soul Seeker” unless I think up anything better, and the summary is as follows:

Summary: [HP/DM] Harry didn’t watch Severus die, so he never learnt that he was a Horcrux. When Voldemort was defeated Harry made sure not to get hit by the Killing Curse, and therefore a part of Voldemort’s soul still lives on inside him. When Draco is freed of the Dark Mark, his Veela heritage starts to search out his Mate, but his Mate’s soul isn’t calling out to his own like it’s meant to. Instead, the Horcrux is calling out to Voldemort’s soul, and Harry’s scar is still hurting. All is not well. Alternative ending to DH. No Epilogue.

What do you think? Original enough a Veela fiction for you? I’ll probably start it after my exams, but only if people want me to, otherwise it will have to wait until The Erlking and Indelible are finished.