Dark Lord's Pet

Thank You

Harry

Upon waking up, Harry realized for the first time in his memory that he had slept in. He was a bit groggy too, and didn't remember what had happened until he tried to stand up.

He promptly fell hard on his ass to the wooden floor.

"TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE VOLDEMORT THE ASSHOLE PERVERTED JERK GOOD-FOR-NOTHING-"

"Yes love?" Voldemort asked, casually interrupting him as he entered the room, coffee (which was mostly milk, maple syrup, and a drop or twenty-six of coffee) in hand.

The bastard looked so smug.

Harry's face was scarlet.

"You-you-you- ARGHHH I HATE YOU!" Harry shouted, not really angry for what the man had done to him, how could he be, but angry that he was embarrassed.

Wasn't the first time you had- had an interaction of that nature with another person supposed to be- well, a sorta PG-13 version? It certainly wasn't supposed to be- Harry couldn't say it not even in his own mind. It was so humiliating!

Feeling tears start to well in his eyes, Harry protracted his wings to make a shield around himself.

His first time- hell, it hadn't even been his first time, had it? Voldemort hadn't seemed affected in the least. He'd not shown any interest in Harry at all. Who could blame him though? Harry'd just been making a fool of himself, getting off on his former arch-nemesis spanking him? He was nothing but a slut, and an ugly one at that if his 'partner' showed no interest back.

Voldemort must be having a good laugh at him. Defiling his enemy, the 'Boy-Who-Lived'. Yeah. Voldemort would like that. 

Pain was a clawing beast in his chest, raking the soft insides of his body painfully.

He tried to pull his knees up to his chest to bury his face in them, but cried out at the sensation, unable to move them from the sore pain that came every time he attempted to. He fell on his side, but was promptly scooped into a pair of large, warm arms.

Voldemort didn't want to hold him, to touch him, he didn't. Harry fought like a hellcat, pain in his lower regions screaming at him, arms flailing and shoving.  Even as the larger body tried to secure Harry, it was the wings that made the difference. Harry flared them out, creating a boundary to large for his rival to get close to him.

"Harry," Voldemort said, trying for a light tone, "What's this, Pet?"

Pet. That's all he was. All he ever could be. A pet to someone else.

He drew his wings in towards himself, but only to form a tent that shielded his face from view. Shielded the tears that ran in painfully hot streaks down his cheeks.

"Harry," Voldemort repeated, a subtle change in his voice Harry didn't bother interpreting. It had to be disgust. He was nothing but a fifteen year old mental case. Voldemort was tied for the most powerful wizard to ever live, and in Harry's estimation even better in the ways that counted.

Harry realized that he cared for this red-eyed, white-skinned, fang-possessing man. He'd been Harry's rock, his surety, the one thing he felt he could put his trust in.

A shudder of pain wracked his body. He was standing up, not even noticing the pain in his lower regions as agony of a wholly different sort ravaged his heart and mind. He'd thought the word he'd been pushing off ever since Voldemort had saved his life through CPR. 

'You have to live.' 

That was what the older man had said. It wasn't the words though, it was the look on his face, the way he'd cradled Harry as if he were something-someone precious.

He loved Voldemort. He loved the man who'd killed his parents, had tried to kill him. He loved the man who'd locked him in a cell one night, then the next when a room of his own had ended badly, invited him into Voldemort's own. He loved the man who'd joked with him, who pretended to drink coffee but really drank coffee flavored milk.

He loved the man.

'I meant no one is allowed to hurt you other than me' Voldemort had said, and Harry knew this to be true.

No one other than Voldemort could hurt him.

Love.

Harry collapsed, knees giving way beneath him as he began to sob on the floor.

Bands of magic fastened around his limbs, but Harry was too weary to break them. His wings were forced to return to his back. He felt himself drifting through the air, though didn't open his eyes to see where.

A cool hand settled over his forehead.

"Well, no fever. The only answer has to be brain damage. I believe that an excess of cussing at my great, sexy, all-powerful self has just been to much for such a delicate constitution, and that you've simply gone insane."

Three heartbeats.

"Come on Harry, if Nagini hears that the moment you woke up you starting crying I'll never hear the end of it! Every third sentence will be along the lines of 'Master, I can't believe you're so bad at making hatchlings that you drove your little mate to tears' and 'You know you're an idiot, I don't have to tell you, so why did you make my hatchling cry? I'll bit you for that' and 'I can't believe that your cock is that deficient. Did he cry when he saw how ugly you really are?' I'm begging you hear darling, save me from Nagini! Would you at least look at me?"

A wicked, hissy snake laugh came from the doorway, and Harry opened his eyes for a microsecond. Voldemort missed it, but Nagini sent him a wink. The tears had begun to dry up, Harry was too amused by the comments about the helplessness before the all-hilarious Nagini, but he made himself continue emitting tears so that he could learn whatever would come out of the aforementioned snakes mouth.

~Did Harry find out that you took advantage of him while he was asleep? You washed him rather thoroughly in my estimation. And the time you spent playing with his hair, really Master. Have you no shame? Or are you just feeling inferior because you have no hair anymore? I wouldn't blame you. You don't even have any scales to cover your skin. Very embarrassing. And then the way you tucked him in before pleasuring yourself in the shower? You were rather loud Master. I could hear you calling out-~

~NAGINI! SHUT. UP.~ Voldemort hiss screamed.

Harry's fake tears had even dried up as Nagini spoke. Voldemort had taken care of him after he'd fallen asleep? And the shower- he hadn't been unaffected after all.

A faint coral tint was in the older wizards cheeks, the closest he could get to blushing, and he had an almost frantic look in his eyes. 

Harry was under no illusion that Voldemort could love him in return, but he was now certain that the man saw him as something special, and not in a bad way. Harry thought for a split second before opening his mind to converse with Nagini privately.

He only sent two words, but they were everything he needed to say. 

Thank you.