Mark of Slytherin

Chapter 19

"My Lord," Snape said, voice tense. "I don't believe this to be the best course of action."

Riddle was in the middle of carrying Harry out of the apartment. He snorted in amusement. "Of course you do not."

Snape blinked once as he followed his lord, a long slow movement. "Sir... I don't think rushing back to Yemen will help you achieve your goal. We do not know exactly what these fools have been doing back there!"

"We know enough." Riddle said calmly, adjusting his grip as Harry moved. The brunette had been asleep when he came back, but the sound of their voices was slowly rousing him into a bleary awareness. It was warm and he was being almost rocked in a steady rhythm. The thought of waking properly was hardly enticing.

"We know bits and pieces!" Snape snapped back. "Barely enough to get an idea of what they are actually trying to accomplish. Remember, this is Potter and Granger we're talking about. Their plans never coincide with ours!"

Riddle shrugged, jostling Harry. "Severus...." he said, "Do you think so little of me? Whatever plans they might have, I will easily overcome them."

"With all due respect..!"

"Enough!" Riddle's voice was sharp enough for Harry to wake up properly. "Remember your place, Severus."

Snape wisely shut up, giving a short nod.

"Hey, what the hell?!" Harry said as he realised that Riddle was carrying him bridal style and nestled close to his chest. "Let go of me!"

Riddle glanced down at him, watching for a second as Harry weakly and fruitlessly struggled in his grip. He didn't speak until the black haired boy tired stopped moving. "Ah, good morning Harry." He was smiling slightly, as if pleased at the sight. "I'm sorry if we woke you. I hadn't planned on disturbing your rest."

"You... what?! Like that matters!" Harry shook his head and wished he wasn't so weak. Every time he tried to lift his arm the wound blazed in pain and left him panting. It hadn't been so bad earlier, he was sure. But perhaps his attempt at derailing Riddle's plans had taken more out of him than expected. In the end he just glared up at Riddle, the gaze ending up focused on his chin as the warlord focused on the path ahead.

"It does matter. You need your rest to recover properly." Riddle shook his head and his voice was almost indulgent. "Like a small child, unable to care for yourself. But don't worry," his grip tightened, "I'll make sure nothing ever hurts you again."

Harry winced. "Except for you, that is."

Riddle froze mid-step. For a moment, he didn't seem to be moving at all, not even breathing. Then he slowly tilted his head to look down at Harry. When their eyes met, Riddle's were so red it seemed to fill even the whites.

"My Harry, I would never..." he started and then paused. A wide grin grew slowly across his face. It was deranged and it terrified Harry. "Actually. You might be right. You, every part of you, are mine to do as I please with. If I want you to hurt, I'll hurt you. And when I want you to feel pleasure, you'll feel it so intensely you'll forget any other feeling ever existed. You'll forget anything ever existed except for me." He paused again and grinned wider, the idea pleasing to him. "So we better hurry this up. I can't wait for you to see nothing but me for eternity. Then we'll finally be the same."

"Y-you're... you're fucking crazy." Harry stuttered, shiver running down his spine. If Riddle ever had a grand master plan for the world, Harry was certain that at that moment it had been completely discarded.

Riddle stared at him, arms tight like a vice and his eyes were gazing at Harry, taking in his expression and every inch of his body. Despite his own words he wasn't moving, consumed by the warm body he held in his arms.