The Divine Darkness

Chapter 13:Hide From You

Grinning lips traced his jaw and Voldemort gave a hiss in pleasure.

His fingers clutched the silky head of raven hair, forcing the lips closer. The aroma of lilacs and arousal filled the air, causing him to take a deep breath of the intoxications. "Harrison" he moaned huskily, his fingers piercing the satin skin.

The boy pulled away, grinning like a mischievous minx.

Voldemort reached out, ready to take the boy by force, until the little brat pulled far away. "Harrison." This time his voice held a clearer quality to it, not the huskiness as before. "Come here, you bloody brat." The Malfoy minx tipped back his head and gave a cold laugh.

"You didn't respect me," he whispered, green eyes flashing. The boy's playful attitude vanished. Voldemort gave a grimace, hating the word 'respect'. But nonetheless, he was bemused at Harrison's change in behavior. He stared. "I warned you to respect me."

And the young man's power unfolded, showing the intensity of it. Granted, they had the same amount of power and technically they had the 'same' power because they were Matches but Voldemort always grew intoxicated with Harrison's power. It was a forbidden taste, a sweet innocence. He wanted to consume it

"I don't know what you're talking about," he replied evenly, narrowing his own eyes and brought out his magic to match Harry's. His own magic was dirtier then Harry's, less appetizing. It might have been the result from splitting his soul so many times. "I have done nothing,"

Harry curled his lips in a grin and Avada Kedavra green eyes glanced over his shoulder. He turned, ready to defend himself, but faltered a moment later. There was a small figure in the dark shadows. The silhouette showed a wizard with a bowler hat. It wasn't Lord Octavio, no; the Demon was taller than this figure. Slowly, the figure looked up, the shadows cascading down his body. With an intake of air, Voldemort took a step back as he was met with brilliant green eyes, surrounded by heavy white make-up.

"No," he hissed, narrowing his eyes.

His Match was dressed up like Octavio. "This is what happens, Tom" Harrison took a step closer. "When you disregard every word I speak." Painted gold lips twitched. "But I can't say I'm not happy with Lord Octavio by my side."

Crimson eyes slowly slid open.

He had fallen asleep at his desk, ink staining his fingers from writing. "Harry, Harry," Voldemort tisked, closing his eyes briefly. He thought back to the boy's lips moving the words of 'respect' at his birthday ball. The boy was talking nonsense. Of course he respected the boy. Correct?

He gave a sigh, running his stained fingers through his long hair. His Match had been right in assuming that he had never had to place his respect onto another human being. When Harrison had come along, carrying with him his strong lilac magic, Voldemort knew he would have to treat this creature decently . It hadn't been difficult at first when the boy had been a child, but now, now the child was a young man who could clearly decipher reverence and respect. Harrison would know if Voldemort wasn't treating him decent.

And for the life of him, he couldn't think of any faults he had committed toward his Match. And yet. Harrison had been spitting angry at the ball. He had never seen the beautiful Malfoy loose control like that. It was almost as if he had hurt the boy.

Didn't Harrison realize that his Horcrux was only pushing his ex-lovers away out of protection? Voldemort was only trying to protect the boy and of course, push those pathetic lovers away for his own selfish means.

Harrison was his.

He would never change his views on that aspect.

Harrison was his Match. It would stay that way for eternity. Their magic and souls corresponded very similarly. Why would he allow anyone to become between them?