Darkness Breeds Darkness

5

Voldemort was never a kind nor forgiving man. Many of his followers could assure you that. But somehow, someway, he had wanted to forgive and forget anything the Potter brat did wrong.
It frightened him since he had never been so kind. To anyone. Ever....
But something told him Harry would prove to his word and be useful.
Voldemort didn't want to kill Harry. Not anymore. Not ever again.
The man was merely a friend to him now. Though he wished Harry would see him as more.
Voldemort had never loved. He didn't know he could-before Harry of course. Though he didn't love him yet, Voldemort was positive that since he had grown affectionate and attached to the boy, he could easily fall in love with his deadly cursing eyes.
Voldemort sighed. He felt Harry's frustration in the bond they shared and decided to take a peek.
The sight he saw made him smile.
Harry was sitting in the slytherin common room, no one else around, trying to teach Draco the cruciatus curse.
Draco looked disappointed in himself and Harry looked calm but was secretly frustrated because it hadn't ever been this difficult to reach someone a curse.
Voldemort laughed at the sight.
Shut it. I'm merely doing as he requested and apparently I know why he requested me. To annoy the living magic out of my core.
Voldemort laughed once more.
Yes my little serpent, he is hard to teach because he doesn't listen. I could never teach him anything.
Well this was certainly amusing to say the least.
Harry had always been a good teacher. He was a wise boy far past his years. But for the death of him he couldn't teach Draco this blasted curse!
That can be arranged.
He could feel Voldemort smirk.
Shut up!
Voldemort gave a quick and confident reply.
Make me Potter.
Oh I will. And you'll be left whispering my name for awhile after I make sure you can't sit without pain for a week!
Voldemort had shut up quickly at that. Not because he was afraid. No. Never afraid. Not because Harry had told him to. Not because he wanted to.
But because that one small sentence turned him the fuck on.
Harry had rarely flirted back with Voldemort and when he did Voldemort took great pleasure in the funny game.
The thing was, Harry sounded completely serious about that threat. Almost as if he'd go through with it in real life....
Voldemort could live with that.
Though both Voldemort and Harry had the ability to block their thoughts from on another, they usually chose not to. At first they did. Then slowly when Harry had stopped filtering his every thought, Voldemort did as well.
They say a child born of a love potion can't love.
Voldemort called bullshit. If he could love Harry than any other child born of a love potion could too.
Wait...was he in love with Harry?
Sure he loved Harry's killing curse eyes and his black raven hair.
But did he really become just that fond of him?
I mean it's not like he noticed how Harry only truly smiles when Voldemort cracks a joke or when he thinks of him. It's not like Voldemort noticed the pull he felt to be drawn to Harry. And it's definitely not like he noticed that when Harry concentrated on a hard spell when practicing that he scrunches up his nose and the tip of his tongue sticks out of the corner of his mouth.
No definitely not. Toms not that observant.
That's another thing too, Harry insisted on calling him Tom most of the time. He wouldn't even let Bellatrix do that and she was his most trusted.
Though Voldemort hated his muggle name, it didn't sound so bad suddenly when it came from Harry's lips.
Surely when Harry walks into a room Voldemort is in he doesn't feel butterflies right?
Well of course not he's the dark lord! But...maybe immense satisfaction? Yea that sounds about right.
Voldemort loved the way Harry could relieve the tension in the room by a tiny joke and instantly make everyone feel better.
When one day Harry had showed up in a mask to help Tom and the death eaters fight in a battle between the order, Tom got hurt and Harry had grabbed him, apperated back to Riddle manor, and sent him off to bed after he healed him himself.
Voldemort could never forget the feel of the young boys body against his. Rough and scarred yet, still so soft and a beautiful pale color.
Voldemort never thought anyone could be physically colder than him. Until he met Harry.
Later, Voldemort had asked Harry about it and all he said was basilisk blood was in his veins from second year. He said it gave him snake like tendencies.
He was technically almost cold blooded and the boys body adjusted to temperature. It was amazing in Voldemort's eyes.
Voldemort had never seen another wizard besides himself that held so much power. Though Harry wasn't taught much because of the light, Tom fixed that by teaching him the dark arts.
The light were all fools who expected their prince to help them win.
But Harry wasn't Dumbledores. Harry wasn't the lights.
Harry was Toms.
And one day he would make him as so.