Chapter 4
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***HP
Harry was once again following the small elf through Voldemort's manor wearing more of the man's borrowed clothes, but this time he was heading to the dining room to have breakfast with him. He, Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, the Chosen One, the prophecy child, was going to be sitting down and sharing breakfast with the Dark Lord Voldemort.
Even now with the itch not as bad and his head completely healed, he still couldn't believe that he was here in Voldemort's lair and that there was a truce between the two of them. He hoped that the truce held, he had no desire to fight and he never had.
Voldemort looked up from the Daily Prophet, his mouth going dry when Potter walked in wearing some more of his clothes. Seeing him in his clothes was doing very bad things to him. He was going to have to send Mintzy out for Potter's things, he couldn't take much more of the boy in his.
Clearing his throat, Harry gave Voldemort a shy smile. "Uhm, good morning. Thank you for inviting me to breakfast."
"Stop being so formal, Potter, we are past that. Sit down and help yourself."
Stomach grumbling, Harry quickly took his seat and started piling his plate full of food. Even though he had gotten to eat yesterday, it wasn't enough to make up for his lack of food since Hogwarts let out.
"You're going to make yourself sick if you eat that much." Voldemort warned knowingly. As a kid, he had done the same. Every September when he returned to Hogwarts he would gorge himself on food the first couple days, then end up in the bathroom throwing it back up. The orphanage he was raised in had more kids than money for food, and since he was the most feared and despised child in the orphanage, he was lucky if he got one small meal a day.
Covering his mouth with his hand, Harry swallowed the large amount of food that was in his mouth. "Sorry." He blushed. "I just really haven't had anything to eat for almost two weeks. Your elf brought me food yesterday, but being told I was going to be killed that night kind of took away my appetite. Not to mention the retelling of my life story didn't help my appetite any."
"Just to warn you, our truce doesn't cover me saving you from choking to death on your own damn breakfast." Voldemort smirked.
Fork full of eggs freezing half way to his mouth, Harry's mouth dropped open in shock. "Was that a joke? Did the Dark Lord just make a joke?"
Voldemort hid the shiver that raced up his spine at hearing Potter call him Dark Lord. What the hell was happening to him? "Dark Lord's don't joke." He said flatly. "I have some questions for you."
"I have some questions for you too." Harry shot back. "It's only fair, I have been answering all your questions. How about a question for a question?" He added when Voldemort just stared at him.
Voldemort didn't like it, but he inclined his head. "Have you had sex with any muggles this summer." He knew the boy said that the last time he had human touch was on the Hogwarts Express, but he had to make sure. The thought of a muggle, or any man, touching Potter made him want to Crucio Wormtail until the rat ended up with the Longbottoms.
"Not yet." Harry answered honestly. "I know it's been two weeks since school let out and the itch has been unbearable, but it takes a while for me give in to sleeping with men in the beginning. Usually after I get the first time over with I go home with someone two to three times a week."
"My turn." Harry smirked. "What's with the drop dead gorgeous look? Is this your real face, or is it a glamour?"
Voldemort couldn't believe that the boy admitted to finding him gorgeous. Not just gorgeous, but drop dead gorgeous. Why did that want to make him sit up straighter and puff his chest out like Malfoy? "This is my real face, though the snake face was my real face when I came out of the cauldron. Wormtail." He spat. "Botched up the potion, but Snape was able to reverse the affects. I still use my snake face when in public to terrify the masses."
"How many muggle men do you believe you have slept with?"
Groaning, Harry wanted to crawl into a hole and die. Why was Voldemort asking him sex questions? "That's hard." He answered feeling dirty and disgusting. "Guess you can average two to three a week every summer since I was twelve."
Voldemort gripped his wand so hard under the table that for a minute he feared that he was going to break it. That was a lot of fucking muggles Potter had sex with.
Harry didn't like how Voldemort's red eyes were glowing dangerously, or how his magic was swirling through the room. "Why were you in a muggle bar?" He asked hoping to calm the man.
"I don't know." Voldemort answered honestly. "I had been in the area and something drew me to that bar. I don't normally frequent muggle establishments, but I figured I could put up with muggles long enough for one drink...then you walked in."
"You said yesterday that you have never had an orgasm, was that true?"
Harry hid his face in the palms of his hands. "I can't believe you keep bringing up sex. Let me clarify that, I have never had an orgasm while having sex, but I have masturbated a couple of times and had an orgasm. I think I'm so focused on the mens touch and their words that I block out the sex part. I'm not with them to have sex or an orgasm."
"Why did you bring me back here instead of just out right killing me?"
"I have been asking myself that same question." Voldemort grumbled. "Curiosity I guess. I wanted to know what the Gryffindor Golden Boy was doing dressed like a slut in a muggle bar obviously looking to hook up with someone."
"Have you had sex with any wizards?"
"Not that I know of. Dumbledore would have kittens if he knew his perfect little weapon was sleeping with different muggle men during his summer vacations."
"Have you ever seen a healer, and I don't mean the Hogwarts nurse? You have suffered severe, long term abuse and that can cause permanent damage both externally and internally. You have also slept with over forty different men, wizards can contract sexually transmitted diseases from muggles."
Feeling sick to his stomach, Harry placed his fork back on the table. He had never calculated how many men he has slept with, but hearing that it was over forty made him want to cry. Maybe he was a whore? How can you have sex with that many men and not be one?
"No." Harry answered in a small voice. "But other than Mr. Craftman, I made all the men wear condoms. I may have only been twelve when I started, but I knew about sexually transmitted diseases."
"I would like for my healer to check you over."
"No!" Harry cried, almost knocking his glass over. "I don't need..."
"You have a creature inheritance coming up." Voldemort snapped, impatiently cutting the boy off. "If you are not healthy going into an inheritance, you can die."
With tears in his eyes, Harry started laughing. "I can't believe that you're worried about me dying. Fine, I don't want to do it, but I will allow your healer to look me over. As long as it's not Snape."
Voldemort had expected more of a fight from Potter, he wondered if his possible submissive creature inheritance coming up was making him more agreeable. The boy was taking being here with him, his parents murderer, too well. Potter was almost comfortable around him.
"Snape is the most talented potions master I have ever met and he is a licensed healer, but I don't want him to know that you are here."
"You don't trust him?"
"I don't trust anyone, Potter, but Snape is such a good spy that at times I find myself questioning his loyalties. Snape is the ultimate Slytherin, always looking out for himself first. I don't think you want Dumbledore to know your whereabouts just yet?"
Harry vehemently shook his head no. Even if Dumbledore couldn't reach him here, he still didn't want him to know where he was. "I have been trying to figure out which side Snape is on since I was eleven."
"I will summon my healer later today and have him give you a full physical. That way, if you need any healing or potions you will have plenty of time before your inheritance."
"Will it hurt?" Harry asked nervously. "My creature inheritance?"
"I have never experienced one myself, but from what I understand it can be extremely painful. I know veelas experience great pain, especially when their wings erupt for the first time. I'm sure my healer will be able to answer any questions you may have."
"So...so what now?" Harry asked timidly. "Do I just spend my entire summer here? I know we have a truce, but am I safe from your minions?"
That was a very good question. What now? What was he supposed to do with Potter now? There were two months left of summer vacation, could he handle Potter being here that long? More importantly, could he keep his hands to himself that long? It was a hard potion to swallow, but he wanted the Gryffindor.
"You will study, do your homework, read books from the library, and practice wandless magic. We will also be meeting every night so I can explain to you what my goals are for the Wizarding World."
"And my itch?" Harry asked awkwardly.
"I will see to that." Voldemort smirked. "You will not be going out picking up muggle men. I must warn you, it may get worse after you come into your full inheritance. There isn't too much written about Nekos as they are incredibly rare and secretive. You may want to write your godfather, your creature blood comes from your Black side of the family. There may be books in the Black Library, possibly even a journal."
Harry's body gave a tingle at the thought of Voldemort helping him with his itch. Last night it had felt too damn good to be held by the man. Was it wrong for him to already be looking forward to the next time? How fucked up was he that he felt safe in the arms of his parent's murderer?
"I have to get my trunk." Harry sighed, not really wanting to go back out in the muggle world. He actually liked it here in Voldemort's manor, and he was relieved that he wouldn't have to spend all summer sleeping with muggle men.
"Mintzy can get your trunk, just tell her where it is."
"I can't. Not only is my invisibility cloak hiding it, but I also warded it with parslemagic. If she touches it, it can really hurt her."
"Very well." Voldemort said standing up. "I shall take you now to retrieve your trunk."
***HP
Voldemort tried to hide his disgust as he followed Potter down a filthy dark alley littered with trash and Merlin knows what else. "This is where you have been living since you were twelve?"
Harry expertly maneuvered around all the trash and debris. "Pretty much. That first summer I moved around a lot because I was terrified that Dumbledore would find me if I stuck to one place, but once I found that he was totally clueless of my summer lodgings, I have been living here. As you can see it's pretty disgusting, but it keeps the other homeless away."
"So does your magic that's saturating the alley." Voldemort said, impressed at all the wards the brat placed on the alley to keep the muggles away. It was no wonder he had been drawn to the area, the bar was only a block away.
Stopping, Harry turned to face the Dark Lord with a frown on his face. "I haven't used any magic here? I wouldn't risk the Ministry detecting the use of under age magic."
"Accidental magic then. Potter, this alley is thick with your magic. Have you never found it strange that no muggles have ever wandered down here?"
"I guess." Harry said thoughtfully. "I have always had issues with my accidental magic."
"That's because you're extremely powerful. I had the same problem and it took a lot of training to get my magic under control. I'll teach you."
Once again Harry felt as though he had entered the twilight zone, or an alternate reality where the bag guys were good and the good guys bad. "You would honestly help me with my magic?"
Voldemort raised a single eyebrow at the boy. "Would I have offered if I wasn't sincere? I may be many things, Potter, but a liar is not one of them."
He was right. Harry thought back to all their encounters and Voldemort had been pretty honest and straight forward with him...even if he hand't like what he was hearing. Unlike damn Dumbledore and all his riddles. "I apologize, this truce is going to take some getting use to."
Voldemort signaled for the boy to keep moving, he was anxious to get out of such muggle filth. He was disgusted that Potter had been living here for years, he was practically Wizarding royalty. "That it will."
***HP
Harry was nervously pacing the sitting room as he waited for the healer. He hated anything to do with doctors or healers. Voldemort had assured him that his personal healer was professional and wouldn't tell anyone anything, other than Voldemort, about what he discovered on the exam. It was going to be hard to drop his glamours and not trick the scan, something he had managed to do whenever Madam Pomfrey scanned him.
Harry froze when Voldemort walked into the room with a very large, muscular man, looking to be in his mid to late fifties with his shoulder length grey hair pulled back in a pony tail. His face, which despite the harsh features and multiple nasty looking scars, wasn't that bad looking.
"I would introduce you." Voldemort smirked. "But judging by the lack of color in your face I take it that you know who this is?"
"Fenrir Greyback!" Harry whispered breathlessly, as he backed up a few feet.
"I don't know about the boy." Fenrir said gruffly, his eyes narrowing. "But I'm going to need introductions. I know my eyes are telling me that that is Harry Potter, but I know that my Lord wouldn't be housing Harry Potter, unless it was in his dungeons."
"Potter, Healer Fenrir Greyback. Greyback, Harry Potter." Voldemort introduced with a smirk.
Harry shook his head in disbelief. Was it ever going to end, this craziness? "You're a healer?"
"Shocking, isn't it?" Fenrir said dryly. "Guess you believe werewolves are too fucking stupid to become healers? Fucking narrow minded, prejudice wizard."
Harry's eyes narrowed in anger. "Fuck you!" He spat. "A man I consider an uncle is a werewolf thanks to you and he's ten times the man that you are. I don't care if you're a werewolf, or a healer, you're a fucking bastard."
Fenrir's amber eyes flashed furiously. "I'm going to rip your damn throat out, kid! You don't..."
"Crucio!" Voldemort said with a bored sigh, lazily pointing his wand at Fenrir's.
Voldemort only held the curse for about thirty seconds, but Harry was impressed that Fenrir remained standing and didn't make a sound. All the werewolf did was grit his teeth and glare at Voldemort. It was actually quite impressive to watch.
Shaking his head, Voldemort lifted the curse. "You take the fun out of my favorite curse, my old friend. Would it kill you to humor me once in a while?"
Muscles still tense and breathing deeply, Fenrir continued to glare at his lord. "Excuse me for not dropping and screaming like all your other pathetic minions. I'm so very fucking sorry."
"No you're not." Voldemort chuckled. "Now, enough with threatening my guest. I summoned you here to give him a physical and to heal any problems you find, not rip his throat out."
"Guest?" Fenrir questioned.
"Guest." Voldemort stressed. "Potter is not a prisoner, but a guest. Just between us, Potter and I have come to a tentative truce. His home life wasn't what Dumbledore led everyone to believe and he has been living homeless on the streets of London the past three summers. I want you to run a complete checkup along with a past medical history. I want to know if he so much as stubbed a toe as a toddler."
Harry took a step back when the wolf turned his intense gaze onto him. He was surprised to find that he wasn't looking at him in anger or hate anymore, but in concern. "You...you really don't have to do that." Harry said anxiously. "I-I feel perfectly fine."
"Shirt off and drop the damn glamours." Fenrir ordered shortly as he advanced on the too small wizard.
Harry looked to Voldemort with wide eyes. Why the hell did he need his shirt off? Madam Pomfrey never made him take his shirt off just to run a scan.
With a quick flick of his wand, Voldemort transfigured his couch into an exam table. "Do as he says, Potter. Fenrir takes his job as a healer very seriously."
Seeing that the terrifying werewolf was now standing in front of him glaring down at him with a slight snarl, Harry tore off his shirt and jumped onto the table. He knew that Fenrir was dangerous and not to be messed with, but oddly enough he felt safe with Voldemort in the room. The Dark Lord had already cursed the werewolf once for threatening him.
"Drop the damn glamours." Fenrir growled. "And don't lie to me and say you're not wearing any, I can smell glamours."
Grimacing, Harry closed his eyes and reluctantly dropped his glamours. It was one thing to show Voldemort all his scars thinking that the man hated him and was going to kill him, but it was another thing to show him them again while in his right mind and now knowing that he was going to live.
Fenrir prided himself on being in control in all situations, he had to be seeing he was an alpha werewolf with a large pack that depended on him, but seeing Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, covered in scars and nothing but bones, had him losing control and growling loudly.
Hissing much like a snake, Voldemort closed his eyes. Yes, he had seen the scars the other night, but that didn't make seeing them again any easier. He was going to be paying his guests in the dungeons a little visit after this.
Putting on his professional mask, Fenrir reached out and traced a very nasty scar that ran from the boy's left collar bone all the way past his right hip. "Most of these are all muggle made. Do they still hurt?"
"Sometimes." Harry admitted with a shiver, he didn't like anyone touching his scars.
Fenrir gently ran his finger over a few more scars on the boy's chest before moving around to his back. "Some of these scars go back years. When did the abuse start?"
"I-I...I honestly don't know." Harry answered shamefully. "I have no memory of them not abusing me. Dumbledore left me with them when I was fifteen months old, so the abuse probably started then."
Fenrir looked over the boy's shoulder to his Lord. He didn't know if Potter could feel it, but Voldemort's magic was escaping his control in his anger. Interesting!
Fenrir continued to inspect the boy's body with his hands, unlike most healers he liked to look them over first the muggle way before using magic. "What happened here?" He asked as he ran his fingers over an odd scar on the boy's right arm. This one was different, it wasn't muggle made and it was cool to the touch.
"A Basilisk tooth pierced my arm when I was twelve."
"You would be dead if you had been bitten by a basilisk." Fenrir snapped. "I don't have times for lies or childish games.
"Not if a Phoenix cried on it." Harry's snapped back as he glared at the very intimidating werewolf. "I was dying, but then Fawks cried on it."
"Dumbledore's Phoenix?"
Looking to Voldemort, Harry nodded his head. "Your younger self from the diary set the basilisk on me. I didn't want to hurt her, but I didn't have a choice. When I drove the Gryffindor sword through her skull, one of her fangs went through my arm. I would have died had Fawks not been there."
Still not believing him, though he detected no lie in the boy's voice, Fenrir pulled out his wand and waved it over the oddly cold scar. He paled when the results came back with traces of both basilisk venom and Phoenix tears. "He's telling the truth, my lord."
Voldemort wanted to roll his eyes, he knew that Potter had been telling the truth. "Will there be any long term complications from the venom?"
Fenrir shook his head. "Not from what I can detect, but unlike with the muggle scars, magic won't heal this scar."
"You, you can heal the scars on my back?" Harry asked, trying not to get his hopes up.
"There are only four scars on your body that magic and potions won't be able to heal,
Potter." Fenrir explained as he continued to inspect the boy. "The basilisk bite, the scar left over from my lord's rebirth, the blood quill scar on the back of your hand, and the scar that makes you famous."
Harry brought his hand up and started rubbing his lightning bolt scar. It just now dawned on him that it wasn't hurting him in Voldemort's presence. That was very strange.
Fenrir stepped back, his wand held out. "I'm going to run a full scan now." He said when he saw the fear in the boy's eyes. "This scan is extremely thorough, it will list any injuries or sicknesses you ever had in your entire life."
Harry blew out a loud sigh. "We're going to be here for a while."
"Dramatic much, Potter?" Fenrir grumbled.
"Just wait." Harry warned, feeling exhausted and drained already. He had done nothing all day, he had no reason to feel this tired.
Voldemort knew the results were going to be bad, and since Harry was underage, the scan would list all the times he had sex. Harry may have willingly had sex with all those muggles men, but he had still been under the age of consent. As far as he was concerned, Harry hadn't had sex willingly, he had been a confused and scared little boy at the mercy of his creature. He needed affection to thrive, and sex was the only way he knew about getting what he needed. Willing or not, he hadn't enjoyed the sex part.
Licking his lips, Fenrir started to feel sick to his stomach as he read Potter's results. Four pages of history listed, he had never seen anyone with more than two. It wasn't the length that was making him feel sick, it was what was written on the pages. He wasn't new to seeing abuse cases, he dealt with it damn near everyday with new, abused wolves looking to join his pack, but he had never seeing anything like this before.
"Fen..." Voldemort stopped talking when Fenrir held his hand up. Normally he would curse someone for daring to cut him off, but this wasn't his minion standing in front of him, this was a very gifted healer trying to work through what he was reading. The Wizarding World didn't know what they were missing but shunning Fenrir, the werewolf was one of the most gifted healers he had ever met.
Fenrir looked up at the boy, not missing the large dark circles under his sunken eyes. "I'm not going to sugar coat this, that's not my style, but by all accounts you should be dead."
Lips quirking up, Harry looked past the werewolf to where Voldemort was standing. "I think I may have heard that a time or two. Did you know that there is a dark lord that has been trying to kill me since I was a baby?"
"I think I may have heard something about that." Fenrir chuckled. "In all seriousness though, this is bad." He said, holding up the papers in his hand.
Clearing his throat, Voldemort held his hand out for the scans. "Is there anything that needs addressing now?"
Fenrir raised an eyebrow. "Oh, only wrongly healed bones, internal damage, vitamin deficiencies, malnutrition, stunted growth...I could go on, but I feel that you get where I'm going with this. Unfortunately there's nothing I can do for the stunted growth, but everything else needs healing before his creature inheritance in a little over a month. Or should I say partial inheritance, he has already partially awakened his Neko, something that should be impossible."
With a grim face, Fenrir pointed to a date on the scan. "There, that's when he partially awakened his Neko. He was just shy of his twelfth birthday. That...that shouldn't happen, and I don't know how it's going to affect the rest of his Neko after his inheritance."
Voldemort looked to Potter who was looking small and scared on the exam table. "It's as I suspected. When that muggle scum molested you, you awakened your Neko to help deal with what was happening to you."
"So I'm a Neko for sure?"
Fenrir inclined his head. "Right now just partially, but after your inheritance you will become a full, male submissive Neko."
Harry took a deep shaky breath. "So that's why I need touch?"
"Touch is as essential as food and water for a Neko." Fenrir explained. "There's no quicker way to kill a Neko than to lock them away and deny them touch and affection."
"Do you know a lot about Nekos?" Harry asked as he chewed on his lips.
"No one alive today knows a lot about Nekos, they're incredibly rare and secretive." Fenrir explained. "None more rarer that the male submissive though."
"Great." Harry grumbled. "It's always me."
"I will contact a few colleagues of mine." Fenrir offered.
"And in the meantime?" Voldemort asked as he resumed reading the scan.
"In the meantime, we start healing fifteen years of abuse. As is, I'm not sure he will survive his inheritance. Then again, this is Potter, and as we all know he is incredibly hard to kill. Still, I want him healthy before his birthday."
"Make a list and I'll get Severus brewing." Voldemort ordered.
Harry was feeling sick to his stomach, but since he hadn't seen the results of his scan yet, he had to ask. "Do, I, uhm, have any, uhm, diseases from being..."
"You have no sexually transmitted diseases." Fenrir said, cutting the boy off and ending his awkward bumbling. "But you do have scarring down there that should really be healed."
Harry quickly wiped away his tears, he didn't want the two men seeing him crying, though Fenrir could probably smell his tears. He knew that he had bled multiple times after sex, but he didn't know that he had scarring there. Most of the men had been gentle with him, but he was still small compared to them. He had also been incredibly young when he first started sleeping around.
"Look, Potter." Fenrir sighed heavily. "Your scans gave me a pretty clear view of your past. You were sexually molested at the age of eleven, the trauma of it partially awakening your Neko. With your Neko partially awakened, you craved physical contact, and since you only knew how to go about getting it by sleeping with muggle men, you started sleeping around. You needed the physical contact or you would have died, plain and simple. I'm sorry, it's tragic, but you would have died had you not did what you did. Now, I don't know what's going on with the boss, but I'm sure he won't allow you to continue sleeping with muggle men."
"No!" Voldemort snapped harshly.
Fenrir didn't even try hiding his knowing smirk. Voldemort was attracted to the boy, he honestly should have seen that coming. The Dark Lord has always been way too obsessed with the boy, especially the last year.
"Then you will have to see to his needs." Fenrir winked. "Unless you plan on enlisting the Inner Circle to help. I'm sure Rowle wouldn't mind helping, he's always had a thing for young boys."
Harry tumbled off the exam table when Voldemort hit Fenrir with another Cruciatus Curse. Like the first time, all the man did was lock his muscles and glare at Voldemort. He wondered if being a werewolf was how he was handling the curse, or had he found a secret to deal with the pain?
Voldemort ended the curse, but continued to glare dangerously at his minion. "I personally will be seeing to Potters needs."
Fenrir gave a mocking bow, his muscles twitching slightly. "As I assumed. Now, before I take me leave, there are a few things I need to discuss with you in private."
"Is this about me?" Harry asked hesitantly.
"Not everything is about you, Potter." Voldemort snapped, though he had a strong feeling that it was about the boy.
"All you had to say was no." Harry said as he stormed past the men. "You didn't have to be such a fucking dick about it."
Fenrir was shocked when his lord didn't curse the brat for his cheek, but he didn't miss how the man's hand tightened on his wand or how he was clenching his teeth so hard that he could hear them grinding together.
"I think I'm going to like the little shit." Fenrir chuckled.
Ignoring his minion, Voldemort locked and silenced the door. "What is it that you need to discuss with me?"
"Fine." Fenrir grumbled. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a fifth piece of parchment. "I didn't think you would want the light prince seeing this."
Taking the parchment, Voldemort's hand started shaking. "How did this happen?" He asked in shock and disbelief.
"I was hoping you could tell me, seeing as the foreign soul piece inside of him is yours."
Voldemort felt numb...Potter was his horcrux. "It must have happened that Halloween night."
"Continue reading."
Voldemort was having a hard time moving past Harry being his horcrux. Forcing his eyes to continue, he once again felt disbelief at what he was reading, "Is this accurate?"
"You know it is." Fenrir sighed. "Other then your own, I have never seen anyone else with such a large magical core. I doubt Dumbledore's is as large. That boy is your equal."
Voldemort didn't know how he felt about that, but he honestly wasn't surprised. He had felt the boy's magic before, and he knew him to be exceptionally powerful, but he had no idea that he was this powerful. "Potter has been holding back."
"I think he just hasn't been able to tap into all his magic because a large chunk of magic is being used to keep him alive. The boy is in bad shape, especially his internal organs. I think after he is healed, the boy is going to be a damn supernova of power. You are probably the only one strong enough to keep him grounded until he learns how to control it."
Voldemort crumbled up the parchment and set it on fire. "This remains between just the two of us. Potter is not even to know about this."
Fenrir inclined his head. Oh, the next few months were going to be interesting and fun. He was greatly looking forward to the show.