The Chamber of Desire [ Tomarry

World's Biggest Douchebag

(This Chapter came out of the darkest part of my mind. So, if any of y'all are sensitive to gory topics, I suggest you take caution, but I'll let you know when the dark parts start)

April 3rd, 1993.

Harry smiled as Tom led him through the Manor. They had talked about what they were going to do all night, and they had come up with a really solid plan. However, for the plan to actually work, Tom had to show Harry the dungeons underneath the Manor- something he had never planned on doing.

They stopped right in front of big, metal bars. "Are you sure you want to go in there?" Tom questioned lightly. "I haven't had the time to clean this place up. There might be some... blood and... bones... and-"

Harry giggled and leaned up to kiss him soundly. "I'm perfectly fine, Tom." He leaned up even more to bite at his ear. "You know I'm always up for new things."

"Darling," Tom warned, "If I have to walk into my own dungeons with a boner I will spank the shit out of you tonight."

"Of course you will," Harry hummed before turning slightly to open the gates. It made an awful screeching sound as it was pulled open. Once it wouldn't move any more, Harry smiled. "Well? I wanna torture that son of a bitch."

Before they stepped in, Tom materialized Harry's mask for him. Harry didn't really need to ask as they both stepped in, Harry immediately clinging to Tom's arm as they moved through the dungeons. It looked like a typical dungeon- no light except for the tiny flickering lights in each cell. The cell bars, rusted from lack of cleanliness, and there was dirt on the floor. It smelled like shit and urine, with a good (well, bad) amount of bile. 'Well,' Harry reasoned with myself as he looked at a disgusting skeleton chained in one of the cells. 'I wasn't expecting it to be a field of flowers.'

"I'm truly sorry that you have to see this place," Tom apologized as they moved deeper into the abyss. "I would have cleaned up if I knew in advance."

Harry giggled, despite the setting. "It's fine, Tom. But this place isn't my favourite part of this Manor, I hope you know that."

"No, I wouldn't say it would be," Tom hummed soothingly, trying to be louder than a far away scream for food.

"So what goes on down here?" Harry questioned. "I know traitors would come down here, but-"

"We have morals, of course," Tom cut him off. "We feed them three slices of bread a day, give them a bottle of water every day, and they have a toilet with plumbing in each cell. Though they don't have a shower, which is why they smell, and the lack of a lot of food can be bad for the brain." Tom sighed. "It depends on the offence, love. If the crime of bad enough, I'll kill them publicly. If it's not that serious but serious enough to land yourself here, you're given reasonable accommodations. But if it's bad enough, they'll get a beating every day by certain Death Eaters."

Harry shivered. "I'm never going to come in here without you," he said. "I'd get lost, and I don't wanna know how much I'd freak out if I got lost."

"I'd never have you come in here alone," Tom reassured, "I wouldn't even want you in here in the first place. Which brings me back to this; are you sure you want to do this here?"

"That depends," Harry smirked, "are you sure you're okay with me doing what we planned on doing?"

"He's a dead man anyways," Tom grumbled, obviously not okay. "Your sight will be his last feast then. Besides, how can you be jealous of a dead man?"