Vera
An Auror. Of course, it made perfect sense...it was too stressful a position to maintain for more then a few decades. A comfortable teaching position would be a nice change and still allow to keep an eye out for burgeoning dark wizards. It even cleared up the whole question of why Dumbledore was so heavily involved in the war. If he was that good, he would probably be one of the deadliest weapons at England's disposal. A potent foe indeed.
"Would it be possible that you remove yourself from my person?" He finally asked and was relieved when he was immediately released and a hand offered to pick him from the floor. He regarded it warily to Dumbledore's obvious amusement. Sneering, he got off the floor himself and ruffled his robes back into order.
"So I am not to leave these rooms which are presumably mine. For how long?"
"The potion should wear off in a day."
"And they sent you to keep me company." A lascivious grin curled at his lips. "That was most kind of them or were they not aware of the nature of our relationship?'
Tom stepped back, mind already skipping and scheming.
"I do not know what you mean." He said evenly enough that one could read the exact opposite of the meaning if they so desired.
"Well, I am obviously still highly regarded enough to raise concern over a simple potion error. You are about the type that I am usually attracted to, though I would prefer you a little older especially considering that in the present I am obviously not twenty-three. But in all other respects you fit a trend of dark haired, beautiful boys with a tendency toward quick passions and a calculating mind. I must conclude that either you were assigned to me at random or you are my current lover keeping me company."
The error was so huge that Tom almost laughed in relief. That would show him to start over estimating this man in any incarnation! Presumptuous silly Gryffindors with their self-centered assumptions. Of course, now he had a choice of how to proceed. He could claim to be randomly assigned and they would spend the next several hours in uncomfortable silence or....
He wasn't usually an or person. Or was sticky, irritating and most of the time, a down right stupid activity that led to nothing productive. He had gotten enough of or by the middle of sixth year and had planned to stay a long way away from or and concentrate on the more important things in life.
But this was a relatively string free or. There was little chance that the potion would allow Dumbledore to keep his memories of this night.
"My...age has prevented anything untoward from happening between us. But it is not from a lack of interest on either of our parts."
As soon as the words had left his mouth, he regretted them. He hated losing control and this was an experiment that was sure to spin well out of his hands. His sudden feeling of unease wasn't aided with the predatory grin that alighted on the red head's lips.
"Prof...Dum.." He skidded to a halt, searching for the professor's first name. "Albus, I.."
"Wolf." The other boy cut in, his smile widening. "My friends call me Wolf from Wulfric."
Tom point blank refused to call anyone by any nickname, especially one like Wolf. It was just ridiculous and he didn't have to stand for it.
"And I am friend?" He inquired.
"That would depend, Tom." His name sounded foreign and exotic pressed between those white teeth and smirking lips. Only the silly animated pajamas cut his imposing figure into something human. "Come here."
Tom snorted, standing his ground. He obeyed no one's orders.
"Come. Here." Wolf said again and this time, Tom found his feet moving of his volition. It took every ounce of his strength to keep from pressing forward.
"Imperius is an Unforgivable." He ground out, trying to maintain an even tone as he worked against the compulsion.
"But I cast no Imperius." That smile was predatory and Tom worked to suppress a shiver. "I did not even have my wand in hand."
The compelling force stopped suddenly and Tom nearly pitched forward at it's swift departure.
"I am not so foolish as to believe that one needs a wand to perform subtle magic."
"Has something been discovered since my time?"
"I look farther then most." He must make no admission just in case. "Imperius or not, that is a powerful compulsion and I doubt friends allow that sort of thing between them."
"It was a test. One few can past and I would have no less in my bed." Wolf took one confident stride forward, closing the remaining distance between them and Tom was ashamed to find he advanced farther then he thought before he could fight off the compulsion. "Strength to strength."
"I will not be toyed with." Tom shot back, taking an equal stride backwards.
"And I would not have so." Wolf took a step forward. "If you say age is really all that stopped us from indulging than what should stop you from this one day?"
"Perhaps there are some trunks best left locked." He took a step back.
"Where is your sense of adventure?" Another step forward for Wolf.
"I am not a foolish Gryffindor." He bit off before he could stop himself as he slid backwards.
"I saw by your robes. A cunning Slytherin. A good match." Forward.
"And if I don't wish to bed an arrogant impetuous Gryffindor?" He winced as he stepped back into the window.
Wolf eased the last step forward, trapping him against the glass, insinuating one muscled thigh between his legs.
"I would say you are far too late to run."
Then that mouth was on his and thoughts ran together in a blur of sensation. Wolf didn't even smell like his elder self. Dumbledore reeked of sugar and ink while Wolf had a faint spice about him. The heat pulsed over him in waves even through his ridiculous bed clothes. Possessive hands circled his back and pulled him from the window and pressed him closer. It had been a year since he had been this close to another human being. Usually it gave him a brief jar of nausea, that feel of another brain thinking merely inches away from his own, but he was to overwhelmed to think.
He felt both pleasure and a horrible sense of powerlessness. Wolf's kiss must hold some compulsion because it compelled him to follow its lead, allowing his mouth to be invaded, his body roughly caressed. Deliberately, Wolf pulled away with a low breathless chuckle.
"You have dabbled in Dark Magic "
"What?" His eyes flew open and all pleasure fled.
"I can taste it like citrus." He licked his lips and leaned forward again. "Delicious."
"Wait...it doesn't bother you?"
"Bother me?" A nip caught Tom's pulse point, sending a shiver through his whole body. "You have no idea what I am capable of."
The kiss this time was more intense, but didn't send Tom spiraling. Instead he sought and found that citrus taste and it burst across his tongue, calling to the part of him that stored his real power.
Gingerly, he let it out to play and found it met equal for equal in a tussle of wills. So involved was he in this metaphysical battle that he failed to notice that his school robes were being undone, only noticing as he felt a chill. Underneath he wore only a pair of slacks and a thin undershirt.
"You are a strong." He said softly as Wolf freed his mouth. "But so I am. Undress."
The compulsion was clumsy, copied from the sensations Wolf's had produced.
"Good. But not good enough." Calloused finger tips ran down his ribs, plucked at his undershirt and drew it over his head. "Try again."
"Undress." He spoke again, but was too distracted by the hands that roved over his torso, prickling his skin into awareness.
"Not quite." Fingers strayed to his pants, his belt was undone and tossed aside.
"Undress..."
"No." And his slacks joined his school robes, leaving him only his underwear. Alternate waves of heat from the man in front of him and the cold of the window finally rendered a real shiver from him.
"Un...dress." He commanded.
"You are missing the point." And he was left bare to the eyes of this predator. "You cannot simply order. You have to make the other person want to do what you wish."
"How do you do that?"
"It is all in the tone." The dangerous voice dropped an octave, silky enough that Tom could swear he felt it on his skin. "Get on the bed."
Lying down on the duvet he wished for the strength to curse his adversary and fell well short. With little fanfare, Wolf shed the ridiculous pajamas. Naked he was beautiful, all firm and sparsely haired. The deep red of his pubic hair should have made his erection ridiculous, instead it framed it in bloody arrogance. Gracefully, he dipped over the bed, crawling over Tom's prone body.
"I will make it very good for you. Nox." The light went out, leaving only the cold predawn light.
"You cannot expect me to simply roll over and ah!" He cut off into incoherence as Wolf devoured his own straining cock with all the expertise of a Knockturn Alley whore.
The man sucked him with single mindedness, wrapping his hands under his buttocks for a better angle, kneading the flesh beneath his fingers until Tom's eyes rolled back into his head and his body shook like a rag dog. He let out a strangled cry and collapsed bonelessly on the duvet. Wolf's low triumphant laugh surged under his skin.
The other man traveled back up Tom's body to smile down at him.
"I told you."
"It was...all right." It almost sounded convincing.
Wolf dipped down as if to kiss him again.
"That is disgusting."
"You don't want to taste yourself?" Strong, invisible hands immobilized his head and a rough tongue plundered his mouth. The taste was abysmal, but a perverse pleasure filled him anyway. The hot brand of Wolf's erection on his thigh adding to the illicitness of the act.
"Unclean." He muttered when Wolf pulled back and the invisible hands fled.
"We are both too far gone to worry about things like that. Or do you think that dark magic cleanses you?"
"Darkness is not dirt."
"Nor is it soap. Roll over."
"No."
"Please." The silken plead rolled over him, pricking up his nipples and sensitizing his skin as surely as the earlier caresses had.
He was on his stomach in an instant. Never had he submitted so thoroughly to someone else. He did not like it, no matter what his treacherous body suggested. It filled him with loathing as one slick finger lingered over his puckered entrance.
"I am going to fuck you from your skin to your muscle to your bone through to your very soul." It should have sounded cheesy and ridiculous, but Wolf made it sound like a very real promise. As his spoke his fingertip slid inside, a slow aching burn. He wanted to be tense and pained, but he felt more relaxed then he had in the presence of another in years. The finger slid all the way in and crooked. Bright light seared across his vision, leaving it spotty and pleasure clouded.
"What..."
"Good, isn't it?" There was a slow burn as the finger left again, returning again and pulling out again, caressing that spot in him repeatedly. "Another?"
"Yessss..."
A second finger burned so much worse and gave twice the pleasure. He panted into the pillow, refusing to heed the instinct to rant and rave like a fever victim. The third nearly undid him completely, but he maintained his composure. When they were removed completely, he felt emptied and panicked as he felt the blunt nose of the substantial cock he had only caught a glance of before. Warm hands caressed his shoulders and arms as Wolf mounted him and thrust forward.
The cry that rested from Tom's throat was so primal that he barely recognized it as his own. He felt filled, on fire. The feeling should have been localized to the rather large cock lodged in his arse, but it spread to his whole body, his skin crawling with the burn. Every part of him that Wolf touched flared with previously unimagined life.
And then he began to move.
Tom had purposely had Crucio cast on himself over and over until he could fight it off without the caster ending it. He could endure pain of unimaginable levels. As Wolf bore him up to his knees, pressing their two bodies completely together, he knew he was begging him to stop in a senseless series of gasps and moans. It was too intense and if it did not kill him now, the shame of his pleasure surely would when he came to his senses.
His orgasm actually blacked him out and when he came to his thighs were sticky with Wolf's cum dripping from his aching hole. At some point the other boy had sunk his teeth at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, leaving another bright pulse of pleasure-pain.
"You should have told me you were a virgin."
He slit his eyes open, leaning his head back on one strong shoulder.
"Would it have stopped you?"
"No, but I might have been a little less punishing." He pulled away from Tom's body, his softened cock creating unwelcome friction. As soon as he had retreated, Tom collapsed onto the duvet, trying to ignore the very twinges that pervaded his body.
"Really?"
"We'll never know now. Accio cloth." Something wet smacked into Wolf's waiting hand.
A nubby washcloth was swept between Tom's thighs and up his crack, creating all sorts of unpleasent/pleasent sensations. It had to be purposely demeaning as Wolf performed some type of perfunctory cleaning spell on himself instead of using the cloth. Satisfied with his handiwork and wearing an unbearably smug smile, Wolf curled into Tom, pulling him close.
"Did you enjoy me?"
"You were wonderfully tight." He received a playful kiss. "Sleep."
The compulsion was strong and Tom closed his eyes, floating into darkness. He counted to a hundred and back down again before reemerging into awareness. Sure enough, confident of his own magic Wolf slept beside him.
"Foolish, sentimental Gryffindors." He leaned down and whispered into Wolf's ear. "Forget."
He rose and grimaced at his bodies protests. Somehow, he made it to his clothes and dressed quickly. As an after thought, he reached down again to the bed and with his wand spelled off a single lock of hair. He went to the door and risked a look back. Many lessons he had been taught this one morning and he planned to remember everyone.
No one noticed his discomfort at meals that day despite how hard sitting was, nor did they seem to care that Dumbledore had come out of his rooms. Certainly no one connected the two facts and had no reason to when the Transfigurations professor swept into breakfast the next morning looking the same as always. Covertly, Tom looked for any trace of the young man who had so thoroughly conquered him. It was gone.
His first Transfiguration class was interesting as his willful mind suffered flashbacks, but Dumbledore treated him his cool usual suspicion. A delicious advantage had been gained then. It was almost enough to make him forget about his failure with the youth potion. Almost.
The year passed quickly enough. He sat for his exams and excelled as was only to be expected. The rest of his life beckoned. A very ordinary looking job that would serve as cover for his more covert nightly activities. Already his followers were converting those around them, positiong themselvies in all the right places for power. He packed with a near smile on his face and almost made it to the train station without being stopped by one teacher unlike many of his classmates, who got caught in last minute advice and affections.
A hand on his shoulder stopped him just before he reached the platform.
"Please remove yourself from my person." He hissed, before turning to find Professor Dumbledore regarding him warily. "We have nothing to say to each other, sir."
"Oh, but I think we do." Blue eyes twinkled in merriment. "A few parting words."
"You no longer compel me, sir. My time here is over."
"Your time at school is over, that is true. But my compulsion over you will never end, Tom. You never will learn the trick of it." A fatherly hand patted him on the shoulder. "You are playing with forces you do not understand. If ever you should get in over your head, you know where to find me."
"I will never turn myself over to your power again." He spoke quietly, firmly, refusing to be ruffled by this revelation. "By any name, you are a perfumed flower that hides a rotting odor. It is the stink of the old, of the decrepit, of the failing. And one day, you will kneel before me, powerless as I was."
"You were not powerless, Tom. I used no compulsion in that bed." The words seemed wrong coming from the older, sadder face.
Tom pulled a lock of blood red hair from his pocket, just long enough for Dumbledore to identify it.
"It is the color of leaves in autumn. You may have been born into the warmth of a Gryffindor summer, professor, but you faded quickly to fall and even now head precariously into the chill of winter. But I was born in the snow and the sleet. My spring has only just begun and my glorious summer will blind you.
"Good bye, Professor." Without another word, he retreated to the safety of the train and found his awaiting, adoring crowd.
As the train pulled out, he glanced out the window to see Dumbledore watching the train pull out, a meditative look on his face. If he had strained he might have hear the muttered words,
"...what a thin line we tread between pleasure and pain, hatred and desire..."
But he did not and he probably only would have snorted if he had. A rational man might have worried about what he had just done, about the powerful enemy he had made. Tom Riddle had never claimed to be a rational man. Things, people, life were transient and he was not going to waste another moment in melancholy contemplation of what might have been.
last part
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