One Shots - HP

Club V2

A/N: it's version two because the first version was made first; it's not complete, yet, however. So; version two is being published first.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
Harry wove through the grinding crowd, vibrating with the beat. He slipped past a couple very, ah, energetically grinding men, and went up to the bar.
"Wh... ...I... ...ou?"
"Uh, a whisky, please."
"S...ry?"
"A WHISKY."
The bartender nodded, walking off to get him his drink.
When the man came back, Harry took a sip and sighed. Ron and Hermione had no clue he was there; he'd sent a sleeping spell at them, and ordered Kreacher to keep them safe and asleep. He just needed a bloody break from everything; it was getting to be too much. He didn't want to lash out, so getting a drink and maybe laid was his solution.
He took a gulp, relaxing as the burn traveled down; nowhere near as strong as firewhiskey, but nice to relax with.
"Hello, gorgeous," a tall man with chocolatey, dashingly coiffed hair said. He had brilliant blue eyes, thin yet full lips, a roman nose and a chisled jawline. Damn, Harry thought. And he's calling ME gorgeous? Wait, he kind of lools familiar... hm.
"Hi," Harry called back, smiling flirtatiously.
The man grinned easily, looking him up and down suggestively. "Would you care to, ah, dance?" He sneered, slightly, around at the sweaty, heavily grinding and groping drunks.
Harry giggled. "Why not just skip it? I mean, I assume..." He fluttered his lashes, smirking.
His grin came back, wider than before, as he knocked back his drink - whiskey as well, it looked like - before reaching out a hand to Harry. "How does a hotel two streets away sound?"
Knocking back his own drink, he took the proffered hand. "Sounds like you're prepared," he responded cheekily.
The man laughed, gently tugging him to the exit after dropping two fifties on the counter.
They walked the two streets quietly, holding hands the whole way, before entering the foretold hotel.
"Hello," he began. "Room for Lucius Malfoy."
Harry froze, looking at the man in shock. He waited until they were in the elevator to pull away, eyeing him suspiciously. "You-"
"-Am not Lucius Malfoy; I was just using the first name that came to mind earlier. Seeing as you know that name, however, I assume we can safely say we are both wizards?"
Harry cautiously nodded. "Yeah... Two wands and all."
The man's eyes widened before he snorted, hand flying up to cover his mouth in shock. "I- I did not just- forget that; never mention it again - do you understand?"
Harry chuckled. "Well, seeing as we don't know eachothers identities, and will most probably never see eachother again; sure, you got it."
The man sighed to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Dear Merlin, why? Why why why?"
Harry laughed, walking out of the now open elevator. "Come on, Mr. Malfoy; there's fucking to be done."
"Oh dear Merlin."
                               ./\<“-“<
Harry blearily blinked open his eyes, looking around the hotel room. He looked beside him, and saw the man from the night before; dear Circe, was he a sex god. By the everything, bloody hell.
He watched as he woke up, nose scrunching cutely. His eyelashes fluttered, before opening - to blood red eyes.
They looked at eachother in shock for a minute.
"Oh, fuck," Harry whispered. "Fuck fuck fuck. We... Oh fuck, what do we do?"
Voldemort sat up, summoning his clothes. "We get dressed, and go our seperate ways. Today we shall ignore our fates, as we seem to have completely blundered it, anyway. Tomorrow, it's back to normal, though. Understood?"
Harry sulkily glared. "You don't order me."
Voldemort paused in doing up his shirt, striding to Harry and yanking his head back by his hair. "You will do as I say, slut," Harry blushed furiously. "-as it is in your best interest. Understood?"
Still glaring, Harry tried to pull his head away. "You better not call me anything like that in battle, you bastard-"
He slaps him, cutting Harry off and leaving him shocked.
"You will stop disrespecting me," Voldemort hissed.
Eyes wide, Harry clamped his mouth shut.
"Do you understand?!"
"Yes," Harry hissed softly, looking at the blanket.
"Good," Voldemort said softly, petting Harry's head before finishing dressing.
Harry meekly sat on the bed, knowing he had best do as the man says for the next little bit. He was most definitely the alpha here, and they both knew it.
"Get dressed, Harry," he hissed, seemingly still needing to use parseltounge.
Harry quickly complied, pulling on his clothes as he kept his head down.
Voldemort caressed his head, leading them into the kitchen, where he gestured for Harry to make them something.
Harry quickly set about making eggs and hashbrowns, jammed toast sitting waiting on the plates.
He dished the food, bringing it to the table and waiting until Voldemort took his first bite to eat; the man was still exuding a feel of dominance, and Harry didn't want to make things worse for himself.
"Clean the dishes, then come here."
Washing the dishes in record time, he goes over to Voldemort's side.
"Yes?" Harry bowed his head, voice soft and careful.
"Kneel, pet."
Harry tensed, jaw working slightly, feeling the embarrassment come back.
Voldemort wordlessly hissed, cold anger coming through, causing Harry to quickly drop to his knees.
"You are very vexing, slut," Voldemort growled dangerously. "You had better be respectful if you wish to leave."
Harry bowed his head, a spike of fear making him more compliant. "Yes, master."
Voldemort hummed, petting Harry's head. "Good pet."
They stayed that way for a while, Voldemort petting Harry's head as he slowly calmed down. His instincts kept rearing at Harry's disrespect, demanding he put him in his place.
He gently tugged Harry forward by his hair, until Harry's chin rested on his knee.
"I will not call you slut, or any variation of it, in company. Just as you will stop disrespecting me."
Harry closed his eyes, tilting his head further into Voldemort's hold. "Yes, master."
Humming, Voldemort accepted his response and continued petting him.
A decent chunk of time passed, at least a half hour, before Voldemort spoke again.
"You will remember all that I've said?"
Harry opened his eyes, looking up to the dominant man. "Yes."
A sharp tug of his hair had him changing his answer.
"Yes, master."
Voldemort settled again, giving one last pat to Harry's head before he stood up.
"Goodbye, pet."
Harry kept his head bowed, kneeling on the floor as Voldemort walked from the room to the door. "Goodbye, master."
Harry waited for the click of the door to slump, completely exhausted. Holy hell, was that stressful.
Picking himself up, he pattered around the rooms, making sure everything was in order before he deemed it safe to leave.
After clearing the hotel, Harry quickly found an alley to apparate from back to Grimmauld, and rushed inside to thankfully find Ron and Hermione still asleep.
"Kreacher!" Harry called, waiting for the old elf to appear.
"Yes, good Master?"
"I need you to keep them asleep for just a little bit longer, please; I need a bloody hot shower."
"Yes, good Master, Kreacher shall."
                                ./<“-“<
Harry quickly magicked his hair dry, and laid down beside his two friends as Kreacher came in. "Good Master be feeling different," Kreacher mumbled, catching Harry's attention.
"Different, Kreacher?"
Kreacher frowned. "Good Master be feeling... Oh!"
Harry sat back up. "Kreacher?!"
The insane old elf beamed up at him. "Master be having a mate! Master be having a new family for Kreacher to serve!"
Looking nonplussed, Harry gaped. "Huh?!"
"Where be Master's mate, Master? Kreacher be serving him, too!"
Harry paled, then blushed bright red. "Oh- oh, no Kreacher, it was just for one night."
Frowning, he shook his head. "No; Master be feeling different; Master have a new mate, and a family."
Harry's mouth flapped; he was utterly gobsmacked. "W-what- V... Er, he doesn't have any family, Kreacher."
Kreacher beamed. "You do, Master!"
Harry stared at him for a minute, trying to comprehend. What new family did he have after a night-
No. No. Bloody fucking hell no.
"K- ...K-Kreacher... When, when you say I have a family, you don't... You don't mean..."
"That Great Master being pregnant? Yes!"
Harry clutched at his chest as the wind was knocked out of him by pure shock.
It... He can't... He was only just fucked! By the bloody Dark Lord, at that! And he was male! It, it wasn't possible-
"Great Master? Will yous be telling Kreacher who new Master is? I's can be getting him for you."
Harry slumped where he sat, brain still trying to comprehend what he was just told. Apparently, he had a mate, and a baby. A bloody baby! He was only seventeen, for Godric's sake! God, if his parents were still alive...
Harry quickly collected his thoughts, and came to a decision.
"Kreacher, find me some parchment and a quill; I need to write a letter."
                               ./\<“-“<
"Alright, Kreacher; you know what to do."
With a nod, Kreacher popped away with Ron and Hermione, a letter stuck to Hermione's hand. Harry had ordered him to take them to the Burrow, leave them a little ways in the forest and remove his magic before coming back.
As soon as Kreacher appeared, Harry sighed. "Alright. Next step."
Kreacher popped away again, before popping in with an irate Dark Lord.
He turned around furiously, but Kreacher was already gone, following Harry's orders.
"Master."
Voldemort whipped around again to see Harry kneeling before him, head bowed.
"What is the meaning of this?!"
Harry looked up, tears in his eyes. "Kreacher told me something, and it pertains to you, Master. I... I will say I was shocked."
Frowning, Voldemort ran a hand through Harry's hair. "What was it, pet. You are very worked up over this."
Harry closed his eyes, lips trembling. "Kreacher... Kreacher said I felt different. That... That I... That I had a mate. ...And a f-family."
Frown deepening, Voldemort opened his mouth before slamming it shut. He couldn't possibly be saying... But it made sense, why else would he feel this way? Be this possessive and caring of the enemy?
And family? What on earth does that mean? He had no family, neither of them did; then why would he feel different? It- No. No, it can't be possible. Could it?
"Harry, my pet; I am going to use a spell on you to confirm what you have said."
Harry opened his eyes, trying not to cry. "Yes, Master."
"Stand up, pet."
Harry did, arms wrapped around his waist as he continued to tremble.
Voldemort frowned, and ran his hand through Harry's hair until he calmed somewhat.
"You will be fine, my pet, whatever shows up."
"Thank you, Master." Harry whispered.
Flicking his wand over Harry, a parchment shot out. Voldemort quickly read it through, before reading it again to pause on two very prominent things.
Reaching forward, Voldemort gently pulled a scared Harry to him, carefully wrapping his arms around him as he stared down at Harry's stomach in awe.
"The elf was right, my pet. You are my mate, and you are pregnant with my child."
Harry gasped, tears slipping down his face. He buried his face in Voldemort's chest, deciding he better not care as Harry was pregnant, and it was his fault.
Voldemort just gently rubbed his back, picturing a heavily pregnant Harry in his mind's eye; then Harry holding their child, feeding their child, playing with their child... Oh, how glad was he they had accidentally slept with eachother? A child! His child, his and Harry's child.
"I swear to god, Master, you had better take good care of me. I'm giving up the war for this, and my friends, and any chance at a semi normal life. This was a really hard decision, and I don't want to be proven wrong."
Voldemort gently yet firmly pulled Harry's head back, and looked into his bloodshot eyes. "I promise, Harry. You and our child shall want for nothing; this child is my little miracle, and I won't let anything endanger it or you. I solemnly swear to you, Harry, that I mean every word I've said."
Struggling the losing battle against tears again, Harry nodded. "Thank you, Master. I believe you, and I trust you. You will take care of us."
Voldemort looked Harry in the eye for a minute, taking in what he had just gained; a family. He felt emotion swell within him, and while he didn't know what it was, he knew what he wanted to do.
He leaned forward, pressing a fierce yet sweet kiss to Harry's lips, gently persuading them to move with his until they were heavily making out, Harry in his lap on the couch.
Pulling back, Harry gasped softly, seeing the look in Voldemort's eyes. If he didn't believe him before, there was no way he couldn't now.
"I have you, my pet. We will be happy, now."
Harry nodded, snuggling into a suprisingly pliant Dark Lord. "Yes, Master. We will be."

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