Groomed

(Pt 8)

It had become a regular routine for the Dark Lord. He would wake up after a restless night of sleep, before getting himself ready and heading for a particular Omegas bedroom. The boy was always asleep -hunched into the bed with a single pillow always covering his face. It almost always looked as if he were trying to scrunch his body under the single pillow, which, inevitably, never worked.
Leaning down, Toms hand slid into the unruliness that was the Potters signature hairdo and leant down to bury his nose in that soft jet-black hair. A breathless sigh escaped his lips as a barely detectable amount of the boys scent was released. Tom trailed down from the boys hair, his lips brushing ghostly over the tan skin of Harry's cheek to the dent of his jaw and neck. It was always hard to contain himself at this stage of roaming the boys body -feeling his skin and in-taking the sweet smell he emitted. But he never gave in, never let himself be taken by the simpleness of an Omega -a fourteen-year-old Omega at that. Tom was no predator.... for such young children, of course.

Prying away from the boy, Tom stood and stared at him a bit longer before turning and leaving the room with a small crack like a firecracker. Harry shifted, rolling onto his stomach with the pillow falling -and yet he continued to sleep.

***

Being a Dark Lord was no easy matter. People always liked to think it was. Cursing people was what they thought a Dark Lord did -no one thought he actually planned, actually strategised.
Narcissa Malfoy sat in front of Tom for that exact reason. She was the best strategist of the lot -not including her brother-in-laws (Rabastan and Rodolphus Lestrange). Humorously Narcissa had been one of the very few who discovered exactly what Tom was doing -making his horcruxes. So here she sat, going over with him what next movement they could possibly accomplish without the eye of Dumbledore crashing down on them. It had happened once, forcing Tom into hiding, and it would not happen again.

"My son, my lord—" "No. Your son has made quite a name for himself, he would not suit well for this." Narcissa gave a bit of a frown, hearing her son would not suit her lords expectations. But gave no more of a fight and, with a bit of hesitation, suggested the three Potter boys -Gabriel, Charles and Harlan. Tom narrowed his eyes, a bit of red entering them as he considered the Potter boys. After all, they must've heard what has happened to their mother through an owl by their father, James, who has been rightfully shunned by any and everyone loyal to the Dark Lord.... But the more he thought, the less likely he thought it would be to use the boys for even a bit of useful information. They could easily twist the events-all three were Gryffindors. So in the end, both of them agreed to not use the boys and instead would think of another child from a prominent wizarding family having yet to prove themselves wrong.

Though that was no easy task. Apart from the Potters and Malfoys, there were the Zabinis, Notts, Parkinson, Crabbes, Goyles, and Greengrasses. Each one was slowly examined, only to be tossed aside.
By the end of the list, both Tom and Narcissa were thoroughly irritated for the lack of maturity these children seemed to have. So in the end, Tom truly began to think over the Malfoys boy -Draco. But no, he wouldn't work. Unlike the others who had relatively decent reputations those with half a brain would easily suspect him as the spy and no one else. The boy wouldn't work, he'd done too much damage to his reputation in his earlier years at Hogwarts.
They needed... They needed someone who wouldn't be suspected. A child who looked young, petite and defenseless. Like they could be thrown around, but not from Slytherin -no it couldn't be a Slytherin. Slytherin already had a horrid reputation.

And than it seemed to click. Tom had had the answer right in front of him. A boy who stood no more than five foot, was as light as a feather, knew how to duck his head and blend. Yes, of course, a Potter would be brilliant to have for this mission. A Potter could never enter the house of Slytherin -they were a Light family. No one would suspect a Light wizard -especially if it was their first year at Hogwarts.
A pleased tilt came to Toms lips, and instantly Narcissa knew the Dark Lord had chosen a child to be their spy. She should've felt giddy for this reason for even without a Dark Mark on her forearm, Narcissa was as involved with the movement as her husband -and yet, at that smile curving up her lords lips, she could not help the sinking in her stomach.