Secrets
"Secrets are power,
How much power do you want ?"
"All of it."
"Ron, are you serious?!"
Hermiones voice echoed throughout the empty corridor; she was absolutely fuming and luckily it wasn't pointed at harry for once.
"I-you-why? Why would you...and not tell...-us?"
Harry wasn't listening, not in the slightest, his skin inched and his head was soaring in pain, even if he wanted to; he couldn't, not with this, not with the thought of his lips on harry's.
"Harry, are you even listening?" Harry turned to hermione, resisting the urge to curl into a ball and press onto his scar so much so that he crushed his skull; as long as the pain went away.
"No." It came out a lot harsher and cold harry had meant to, he didn't even mean to say no.
He was just, so in-pain and so fucking cold in this abandoned corridor.
And Tom was there, somewhere, harry could feel him.
"I'm done! with all this crap..and-and listening to dumbledore and just waiting for something to happen; for someone else to save us! Why don't you understand? They can't help us!"
Ron's trembling words echoed, bouncing off the walls, it cut through the air between him and hermione, as she looked at him in a state of disbelief? Or concern, he couldn't quite figure it out.
"I know you're upset, ron, but you can't..you shouldn't have done that without atleast telling us? The Time Turner can only take two of us home." Hermione stepped closer, but hesitately, as if she was afraid of ron lashing out on her, but still wanting to comfort him as best as she could.
"Your family isn't in the middle of a war, hermione!" He snapped, hermione stepped back, hurt in her face, not anger, not confusion, just hurt.
Oh.
"Hey-ron, don't say things like-" Harry stepped forward.
"How would you know anything? Your parents are dead, you have no family!"
Oh.
"Ron!" Harry heard hermione blow ron's head off and ron snapping back at her.
But he didn't care at the moment, he turned around and walked off, his skin began to burn, like a hot iron bar had been pressed into the surface.
Ron was just mad, he didn't mean it.
Are you sure? The voice in his head whispered.
No.
______________
He didn't mean for this to happen,
He really didn't.
He didn't even want it to,
He didn't pull away.
Tom's lips were on his neck,
And he did not tell him to stop.
He felt himself let out a strained noise, a whimper? A moan? A cry of help from his hard dick who was being rubbed against the man who had tried to kill him? Multiple times?
He didn't know, and at this moment, he could care less.
"Shh, you don't want your pathetic friends to hear you, right?" He was going to argue, say they're not pathetic in the least, but that would mean acknowledging what he; they were doing.
And he couldn't face that.
So he bit his tounge and tried to steady his breathing.
He could still hear his friends muffled voices as they argued, even as his dick started to ache against his trousers.
"Hm?" He felt Tom smirk against his skin and his hand started to lower itself down harry's body; when he stroked his dick.
Harry let out a gasp and lent back his head to rest on the wall behind him.
Fuckfuckfuckfuck.
Tom let out a laugh, "Tell you what," he removed his lips from harry's neck and looked down into his eyes, his hands still pressing on harry's dick, hard enough so it ached, gentle enough that harry couldn't get off on it.
"Get on your knees," he leaned closer, "get me off and I'll help you out."
No.
There was no way in hell and heaven that harry would ever do that.
Not in this time, and definitely not in his time.
Tom pressed his lips against harry's throat, biting into it, "You know you'll like it."
Oh, fuck it.
__________________
"Druella, guess what the fuck I had the audacity to do today." Harry basically fell onto the sofa beside druella who was sat on the floor, writing.
"Language." She hummed, harry rolled his eyes, a smile playing on his lips nevertheless.
Over the few months he had spent in the castle; specially the slytherin common room, he and druella had become extremely close, so much so, that harry had no problem telling druella what had happened between him and Tom during the masquerade;
To which she responded with: "You are very deranged sometimes, darling."
And did not say a word more about the entire affair.
Perhaps it was a little odd that he felt more comfortable telling a girl fifty years back in time about his internal turmoil about Tom rather then his childhood bestfriends; but then again, giving your said life-long enemy a blow job was odder.
Druella did open up about her relationship with Lestrange; she even got him to beg for forgiveness from harry.
That was hilarious.
Harry would occasionally find druella and lestrange sitting by the fireplace, her head on his shoulder, her eyes closed, as she told him about her day.
Lestrange would watch her; with something in his eyes that only ever appeared when he was with her; tenderness.
He looked at her, like she was his heart support.
And perhaps; she was.
Harry had expected druella to tutt and call him stupid; in her posh vocabulary, ofcourse.
She instead, stopped her writing and looked at harry with a serious glint in her eyes as she turned to face him fully.
"You mean that he was listening to your and your...friends conversation?" She questioned; stated more likely but her tone grew low, slightly above a whisper.
They were alone in the common room; who was she afraid of listening in on their conversation?
And then it hit.
"I think so, he was right around the corner..." He trailed off, he hadn't told druella about Tom knowing he and the others were not from this time; he made sure she didn't even know.
If he had listened to the entire argument between hermione and Ron....
Fuck.
"How serious was your friends argument? Did it contain anything he may use against them? Or you?"
A lot.
He could use a lot.
"No."
Instantly, Druella's face softened, she relaxed her limbs and seemed more relieved.
"Very well." She began to write; in her perfect cursive handwriting, Merlin, how does she do it?
"Would...it be bad if he learned something like that?" Harry tried to steady his voice, he didn't want druella to catch on, but he couldn't stop himself from asking.
"Darling, secrets are dangerous, and powerful...a sort of power that someone..." She seemed to pause, in both her words and her writing, just for a moment, she smiled,
"Have you ever heard of 'le mot est le pouvoir?''"
"Yes, because I totally speak French, Bonjour, oui, oui."
Druella scoffed, rolling her eyes as she turned to him, whispering something under her breath before she spoke once more.
"It is French, swell observation skills, Potter." Harry grinned, the thing he loved most about druella was that she was witty aswell as educated; and fucking terrifying sometimes but he would never admit that to her.
"It translates 'The word is power', it is phrase used commonly in the pureblood society; many revolutions have been started and repressed by simple words; magical words to the wands of dark lords but also the trail of gossip can ruin almost any rising social member of any group;
Blackmail, is as dangerous in the wizarding world as it is in the muggle one.
Anne boleyn; the second wife of the muggle King Henry and a extraordinary witch, was a victim of this, and due to it, she was beheaded."
"Anne boleyn is a witch?" Harry felt his jaw drop; and druella just gave him a look of pure disbelief: as if she couldn't even stomach the thought of him not knowing this simple information.
"Pureblooded, yes; Queen Elizabeth was a half-blood, now may I countine?"
Harry grinned a toothy smile; and nodded, even though she was going to countine with or without his permission.
"She was blackmailed by her family of all things; they threatened to expose her witchcraft to her husband if she did not...dispose of him,
She tried; and failed.
Therefor; she was disowned, and the king was told of her affairs instead of her magical status; mostly because her family was scared they would get hunted too."
Harry leaned back, his head on a pillow as he listened intensely at Druella's words; he was screwed; Tom knew everything, he had gotton into his mind.
"Secrets are as powerful as magic itself; many family homes and even their magic itself is held upon many secrets that none shall ever know. That could ruin itself and everything related to it."
Druella took a breath to steady herself, and brought her wand to her lips; whispering something to it harry did not pick up on.
A green light glowed from it; slowly it shaped into a symbol of a Manor.
"Secrets fuel it, a protection field almost,"
There was strings of white that tugged onto the manor; whispers surrounding the house; "When the words are given or listened into by the wrong people,"
The strings started to tug, "It cracks." The strings snapped; and so did the Manor, but not just that; the people inside it seemed to crumble with it.
The green glow stopped.
"What a magically brilliant performance you put on; Druella."
Harry's heart stopped.
He would recognise that voice from anywhere.
Tom stood behind druella; his eyes locked on her, but it wasn't right.
His eyes were,
"Tom."
Red.