Chapter Text
Harry didn't know what exactly happened.
It was a usual day at first, a day filled with classes and playing around with Ron and Hermione. They were looking forward to the weekend, although not looking forward to doing all the pent-up homeworks they got from the teachers. Both Ron and Hermione were talking, bantering, the usual, as they sat in the Great Hall for dinner. He'd noticed that Ginny had been acting somewhat strange and the looks she sent him had made a shiver run down his spine.
"You okay, mate?" Ron asked, noticing him shiver.
"Yeah, I'm alright... Just that your sister's been looking at me strange and it honestly makes me uncomfortable," he admitted, avoiding eye contact with both Weasleys.
"Relax, mate, she's probably in awe at you, like always," the redhead said, rolling his eyes before wolfing down the food he had on his plate, which significantly decreased the raven haired boy's appetite. But Hermione was watching him with narrowed eyes, and he had to take a few small bites of his dinner before he stood up.
"I'm gonna go get an early night," he said, fidgeting uncomfortably as he noticed that he was still being watched by Ron's little sister.
"At least drink something after you eat," the witch said, pointedly looking at his still-full goblet filled with pumpkin juice. Harry nodded before drinking a few sips, leaving his two friends in the Great Hall for some peace.
On the way to the Gryffindor common rooms, he felt a bit strange. A slight tingle was starting from his belly outwards, and he swore that after a few more steps, he could feel the tingle on his fingertips, getting stronger and stronger as he went. Oddly, the hallway he was walking in was also rising in temperature, and he had a longing feeling to just get out of the castle and walk around in the cool air.
Unable to withstand the heat any longer, he indulged in his desire to walk outside, turning abruptly from where he was standing, and making his way to the entrance door. He didn't walk too far, only a few miles into the Forbidden Forest, before a blinding white heat surged through his whole body, making him abruptly take off his cloak and muggle shirt, along with his worn jeans. He was nearly naked, but it still wasn't enough. It was just too hot--far too hot for it to be natural, but his mind was quickly fogging up.
All he knew was how he felt so empty inside.
A mix between a groan and a whimper escaped his lips as he kept on trying to find a cool temperature. He then began moving.
After a while of agonizing crawling, he fell into flowing water, a small stream which barely drenched him, but it helped cool him down immensely. He then leaned onto a tree with a damp ground, and panted. It was just so, so hot, he thought that his blood might as well be boiling.
Before he knew it, something solid, but noticeably cooler, coiled around him. Hugging him.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't the great Harry Potter," he heard the snake hiss. "What brings you here into the Forbidden Forest, hm?"
"V-Voldemort?" he hissed back, his mind far too gone to register the initial panic that came from hearing that voice, saying that name.
"The one and only," he hissed back sarcastically. He then reared back in indignation when he felt a hand grip his long body quite harshly, but stopped an insult or two from being hissed when he heard the boy groan and whimper. His temperature was abnormally high too, and he noticed that the boy was quite naked. Tasting the air, he hissed an angry hiss. "Potter, what do you think you're doing, drinking incomplete potions?!"
"What potions?" he asked rather weakly once the blinding white hotness passed.
"Foolish boy, don't lie to me. I can taste the air, and I taste a bad potion in your system!"
"I don't know what you're talking about," he shook his head, hissing back. Tasting nothing but the truth, Voldemort looked at him curiously.
"If you didn't consume the potion willingly, then why did you consume it at all?" he asked, watching the boy's reaction.
"I... I don't know...?" he hissed back, pulling away from the warming coils around his body.
Just by tasting the air and watching the raven haired boy's reactions had confirmed him that it was a binding potion, usually used for marriages and such, with the difference that it was usually keyed to another person. The fact that the boy had digested one not keyed to a specific person had him going into some sort of heat, and he didn't like it at all. It was also dangerous unless he bonds to someone--any kind of bond is alright.
Another whimper slipped through the boy's lips, and he, without thinking, hissed, "I can help you."
"How...?" the boy eyes the snake skeptically.
"You'll need to bond with me, and then I'll be able to help you," he explained.
"But you're a snake...?"
"I'm a wraith, a stray soul, if you'd like, and the only bonding available for me is a soul-bond. All you need is to look into my eyes, and let my soul into your body."
"You mean you're going to possess me?!"
"It might be necessary to, if you're unwilling to cooperate. I'll help you relieve your pain, but in turn, you'll need to revive me to complete the bond."
"But... you're just gonna turn me into Professor Quirrell Number 2!"
"No, I will not. If you don't help me, and render me unable to soul-bond with you, then I'll gladly let you lose your sanity or die from exhaustion in more or less three months due to you consuming an incomplete potion," he hissed sternly, and Harry thought it over before reluctantly nodding.
"Just help me, please," he pleaded as another heat wave, this time bordering on painful, washed over him. If he were able to, he'd smirk at the boy's agreement. Looking each other in the eye, he used it to created a temporary bridge to enter the boy's mind, and sealing both of their consciousness within his mindscape as they waited for the bridge to crumble--and for the snake to die.
Voldemort took his time, looking around the small space of the boy's landscape, noticing the little boy huddled in the corner with his eyes trained onto the wizard, gaze filled with suspicion.
"Where are we...?" he asked, voice trembling a bit as he realized he was in his cupboard--again.
"Your mindscape," he answered bluntly. "I needed to enter your mind and close your consciousness so that we both could stay in the same body--at least for a while."
"How long do we have to wait?" Harry asked, feeling phantom pains of the binding potion's side-effect, even within his mind.
"Until I," Voldemort said, crouching right in front of Harry, revealing his handsome 30-ish face with gleaming red eyes and a charming smile that made Harry's heart skip a beat, "complete the soul-bond."
"How...?" Harry asked, genuinely curious.
"There are many ways, of course," Voldemort said. "One of the common steps to doing that is to get close, have some sort of... physical contact within you mindscape." He then extended his hand towards the boy, waiting until he tentatively touched his hand before pulling him into some sort of hug. Harry yelped in surprise, but was unable to fight the older man when he had his arms around his waist. "And the easiest one is to have sex within it."
He smirked when Harry's face flushed adorably. It was one of the cutest things he'd ever seen, and it envoked a feeling, deep inside him, that made him want to ravish him, have him, claim him. "A-are there... other ways...?" Harry gulped.
"Well, there are many other ways to do it," he informed, "but all of them requires a ritual or a spell, one that had to have help being cast by a third party. And we don't have that, now, do we?"
"But... but I'm..." Harry stuttered, unable to look away from the handsome smirk that made his lower belly feel all funny. "I'm a... I'm-I'm a..."
"A virgin?" Voldemort said with a raised eyebrow. Harry's deepening flush was all the confirmation he needed. "Don't worry, it's just mind sex, your physical body will have no change because of it. I'll even be able to make it as pleasurable as possible for you. Just trust me, even for a little bit?"
They were stuck in there until the deed was done, and he would more than possibly die if he didn't, so why not?
Harry nodded resignedly before pulling away from Voldemort's embrace to look at him properly. Voldemort also nodded back--in satisfaction--before he waved his hand and changed the whole mindscape, turning it into a more appropriate place to have things done. They both stood up and went for the dark green and silver bed, Harry visibly less confident than Voldemort.
"For starters, I need you to lay on the bed, and listen to everything I say. Is that clear?"
"Yes, sir," Harry said rigidly, clumsily making his way to the center of the bed to lie down. He didn't want to fall off the bed--mindscape or not. The older wizard smirked as he watched the small--far too small--teen crawling into the soft mattress. With a wave of his hand, their clothes vanished--not that the boy had much on him anyways.
"Now relax," Voldemort murmured as he gently kissed the younger male. His lips coaxed the other's lips to open up before he flicked his tongue inside, just a sample taste, relishing the surprised gasp he'd elicited from Harry. "Open your mouth. It'll help," he whispered before once again connecting their lips. The kiss was gentle, but passionate, as Voldemort's tongue mapped Harry's mouth, coaxing his tongue to join the kiss as his hands started to explore the smaller body beneath him.
His fingers traced his jaws, feeling the softness of his young face as it travelled down. His neck was soft, but firm, and he could feel his muscles move as he gulped a bit of his saliva when he stroked his finger onto his pulse on his neck. His touch made him shiver, the phantom pains becoming a distant ring, and forgotten completely when those deft fingers rubbed the nub of his nipples, pinching it and tugging at it--just playing at them. Voldemort just drank the younger boy's moans of pleasure before he pulled back, latching his lips onto the boy's sun-kissed neck.
His fingers traveled to his sides, feeling every bump and ridge of his ribs, making a mental note to make the boy eat more. Seriously, he could only feel skin and bones, and just a tidbit of muscle under his fingertips, and he didn't like it. They were supposed to be soul-bonding, something akin to turning themselves into soulmates for each other. And that means that he'd become his mate outside of the mindscape, and they'd have to get together sometime in the future, when Harry was more... legal.
For now, though, he was tasting the divine taste of one Harry Potter, and he'd savour it. Harry cried out when fingers found his erection, touching teasingly lightly at the length and his foreskin. No one had ever touched him there before--not even he himself. He had not yet had his first wet dream, and he wondered if his wet dreams would feel as good as the Dark Lord's touches?
He was brought back from his wonderings when he felt a warm, wet heat envelope his entire member, crying out as a tongue teased his foreskin back to lick up the head of his erection. The sensation suddenly disappeared, and it made him open his eyes he didn't realize had closed and look down--to find a smirking Dark Lord as his mouth slowly envelops his erection. The sight made his member twitch, and he couldn't help the groan that left his lips, but he never looked away from the sight until his orgasm tore him out oh-so suddenly, throwing his head back and making him arch as he emptied into the older wizard's mouth.
As Voldemort bit and sucked and kissed his legs, Harry stayed in cloud nine, the daze he was experiencing nothing like he'd ever known of before. When his mind cleared a bit, he felt a tongue on his arse, making him jump in surprise.
"Wh-what are you doing?!" he asked, alarmed. "D-don't lick there, it's dirty!"
"Is it?" the older man inquired before giving the tight, pink rim a broad lick, up to his perineum. "It tastes clean to me," he whispered against his hole, his tongue prodded the clenching and unclenching entrance until it unfurled enough for him to insert his tongue. Harry arched once more at the feeling of something entering his private, intimate place where things usually get out of.
Voldemort fingered him, one, then two fingers, along with the tongue. "You taste delicious," he commented when he deemed him stretched enough to be penetrated. He leaned forward until he was face-to-face with the panting wizard with glassy green eyes. "I will now enter you," he stated, a warning, as he aligned himself, pushing into the tight heat as gently as he could, eyes always scanning the younger wizard's face for any sign of discomfort and pain.
He stopped and let him adjust when he saw it before pushing on until he bottomed out, his ballsacs snug between the teen's cheeks.
"Alright?" he asked, his fingers rubbing at his lower abdomen to help with the adjusting. He was surprised and pleased to feel his member from where he rubbed him, and was worried because he was just so damn skinny! A nod from Harry had him pulling out slowly, patiently, until only the tip was inside him, before pushing back in. Harry was gritting his teeth at the strange feeling of something going in and out of his anus, until Voldemort's member brushed that place just right, that made him gasp and see stars. That made him start to writhe in confused pleasure.
Taking that as encouragement, Voldemort proceeded to pick up his pace, until he was technically abusing his prostate, with the speed he was going, until Harry climaxed, squeezing down just as the Dark Lord bottomed out and froze, feeling himself come inside the boy. It felt oh-so heavenly, and the look on Harry's face made him have a second bout of orgasm, before his come trickled out of his spent member inside the younger wizard.
Voldemort laid on one side without pulling out his oversensitized member, and pulled Harry closer. Being inside him was nice and warm, and it was such a pleasant feeling, that he could only mutter the word, "Sleep," before falling asleep himself.
When he woke up, Harry found himself alone, and shivering in the cool evening air, a dead snake carcass coiled around his naked body. The heat and pain he felt before wasn't there, and he was thankful for it. Quickly locating his clothes, he put them on before entering the castle. Everyone was already asleep by then--except for one person. That one person watched Harry like a hawk--bordering on stalking him until he made his way into the common room.
No one was awake, and the fire was warm, although unlit. He took a quick bath and did his evening routine before getting into his bed, quickly falling to back into sleep, and inconsequentially, back into Voldemort's arms.