Grazhir :: Harry Potter :: CIA :: 06 :: Control

06 • Control

“Tom, what of the report Lucius gave you on the remaining Order members?”

Voldemort looked up from his meal a bit reluctantly; Harry had outdone himself, after all. “Disorganized is the word that comes to mind. However, recent information reveals that they are extremely distressed over the Potter situation as reported in the media, and while they have made attempts to locate you, they’ve been stymied just like everyone else. I believe they remain firmly of the mindset that you will, at some point, appear to save the day.”

Harry giggled. “So we can keep ignoring them for now.” When his lover nodded Harry said, “Okay. I’ve been thinking about the Wizengamot members some more. Unless you can think of a good reason not to, I plan to start maneuvering in the background, such as subverting the mind of that one guy’s master. We will provide the vote decisions for him to pass on to his sub, for instance. And we could be funneling people to the slave trainer/trader in exchange for those votes, so we wouldn’t have to bother always killing those in our way. I’ve rather lost my taste for that recently.”

Voldemort considered that, then arched a brow at his mate. “Not all of them, love. Some should be reserved as rewards for those of our people who enjoy a spot of torture and death.”

“Oh! I suppose that’s an excellent point.”

“It sounds to me,” commented Armand, “that you do not plan so much to wipe out corruption, as to bend it to your advantage.”

“Too hypocritical, you think?” Harry asked with every evidence of sincerity, then shook his head. “No, we’re dark lords. We can get away with that sort of thing.”

Armand chuckled and went back to his meal.

“I think, perhaps, Lucius should be having a dinner party soon. I will instruct him on who to invite, naturally,” said Voldemort.

Harry licked his lips and leaned forward. “Does that mean I’ll get to play?”

“Certainly, love. You can take care of that self-styled master, and make a few people very amenable to anything Lucius might be moved to suggest to them.”

“You mean like them inexplicably always seeing a bid from Lucius as being the highest?”

Voldemort nodded and had a sip of his wine.

“The creature trader has to go, though,” Harry said firmly. “He’s a walking dead man. Maybe I’m being totally unfair on that point, but . . . if certain laws weren’t in effect, he’d never have gotten his little business off the ground. I mean, any idiot can kidnap people, subdue them, and sell them, but that guy is using the laws to. . . .”

Voldemort reached over to caress his beloved’s hand soothingly. “As you wish, Harry. On a related note, we might consider getting samples from anyone we dispose of for your side project. Even possibly make a deal with that trader for samples from anyone he brings in.”

“That’s brilliant,” Harry enthused. “And it is a long term project. That could be a very profitable partnership, in a certain sense. Do you have anyone who could liaise that relationship? I can’t really imagine that either of us would deal with the man directly, after all.”

“It will not be a problem, especially if you do a little mental meddling, my sweet. And while I’m at it, I will solicit Lucius’s opinion on his fellow Death Eaters. I wish to work up a list of those that might be safe for Armand and Marius to be around, so that they can have a lot more freedom within the compound.”

“That would be very nice, thank you,” Marius said and smiled gratefully.


Harry was on his way back from a training class when something brought him up short. A cluster of minions were all on their knees, unmoving, not far from the back of his house. Their condition rather reminded him of Draco that one time. He slinked over after a moment of thought, then produced both of his wands and began casting quick bouts of crucio.

Once they were all back to normal he said, rather frigidly, “Do you not have someplace to be? You are not here, after all, to stand about like imbeciles.”

A wave of bows rippled through the group before they scattered like startled birds, so Harry continued on his way to the house, and through it to the garden. He noticed immediately that a very relaxed pair of Frenchmen were sitting under the shade tree.

And when they noticed him, as he approached, each of them got a bit shifty around the eyes. Harry took a seat and said rather slowly, “I allow I am curious. I’ve just stumbled over something peculiar, and that makes me wonder . . . have you two, er, just had an early lunch?”

Marius went bright red, while Armand shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

“You see, it’s that I was on my way back here and noticed a bunch of the men all blissed out.” He went on to relate what had happened in the audience chamber the day of his debut, for comparison purposes. “So I wondered.”

“It is . . . a lovely day out,” Armand said evasively.

“Oh, I agree.” Harry then realized that perhaps his friends were concerned that they had done something wrong, and hastened to correct that impression. “Don’t get me wrong, please. I don’t care the least bit if you two wish to amuse yourselves out here. Why, I like to myself on occasion.”

He paused in confusion when Marius blushed again, then pressed on. “I get the feeling that you don’t have all that much control over your thrall, Marius, that’s all. Like, you know in your head that the wall exists for outsiders, but your instincts aren’t cooperating. But, now that you’re aware of this, I think maybe you’ll be able to work at control. You’ll have to help him, of course, Armand.”

“Ah, yes, perhaps you’re right.” Marius bit his lip, then added, “Tell me, please, are the ones I affected aware of what happened to them?”

Harry instantly shook his head. “They don’t have a clue why they zoned out. Really, it would be safer to practice that sort of thing around the pets, maybe at night. Oh, that reminds me. I need to get you set up, don’t I.”

He whistled sharply, and smiled when his pets arrived to see what he wanted. Harry reached out to grab Percy’s chin to gain his undivided attention. “Weatherby, these two men are hereby designated as handlers. As such, you will obey them. After all, you know what will happen if you don’t, right?”

Percy tried to shrink back, but Harry held him firm. “That’s right, you’d be punished. You be a good boy and behave, and everything will be fine. Now go play or lie down,” he said, releasing the redhead.

Harry turned his attention to Moony. “I take it you get the picture, pet?”

“I am to obey them as I would you, master,” Moony said softly.

Harry nodded. “Yes. You see, Marius is something of an artist, and would like to use you two as models, so naturally I said yes, and besides, it will give you something useful to do on occasion.” Then he turned to his friends and said, “And that reminds me of something else, the rules. It’ll be easier for me to explain what you can’t do, actually.

“No violence, not that I’d expect that from either of you. Also, you can’t have Weatherby mount Moony. Moony knows that he’s not to ask, encourage, or allow Weatherby to fuck him. The other way around is fine, of course. I mean, I don’t know if you wish to do any erotic sculpture, Marius, or animate any of it, but if you want them to pose like that for you, it’s perfectly all right.”

“I could . . . order them to have sex?” Marius asked, then quickly added, “So I could sculpt them that way.”

Harry shrugged. “I don’t see why not. Weatherby will obey any order, but Moony has to want to, so he might say no to a request like that.”

“Why isn’t Moony allowed to. . . ?”

“Moony has to ask for that sort of thing, or earn it. It’s part of what he agreed to.”


“Yes, pet?”

“You told me that I can’t show you my gratitude because of what you are. Does that apply to. . . ?”

Harry squinted at his friends, then looked back at Moony. “I suppose that’s up to them, pet. There’s far too much bad history between you and I for me to ever let you touch me like that, and besides, Tom would probably kill you. Anyway, I suppose if you earned a reward and one of them wished to bestow it personally, that’s their business, not mine.”

Moony nodded and shot a sidelong look at the two Frenchmen.

“Oh, that’s right. You can’t ask either of them to stand up. They can kneel up, but not stand. And you can’t put clothes on them, either.” He paused to glance over to one corner of the garden, then brightened. “I almost forgot, I said you can use the toy for things like that. I’ll have to show you in just a moment. After all, Moony did earn a reward not far back, so. . . .”

He bounced to his feet, said, “Stay,” to Moony, then gestured for his friends to follow and slinked over to the shed. Once there he showed them how to gain access, then brought the golem out. Another few minutes were spent on operating instructions, and then they all moved back to the shade tree.

“Like I said, its programming only handles simple things, so you’ll probably have to pose it manually if you use it as a model. Now, pet, we’re going to go have lunch, so you’ve got an hour to play, all right? I’ll be back later to put your toy away, so make the best of the time you have.”


“Have a seat, Lucius.” Once his minion had obeyed Voldemort said, “I have a couple of tasks for you. First, you will work up a list for me of Death Eaters that can conceivably interact with our guests, Armand and Marius, and present it to me once you’re done. If necessary, I will spend time altering the warding on the compound to give them access to much of it, while keeping undesirables out of the way, without barring them from their normal duties.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Second, and just as importantly, you are going to host a dinner party for me.” He pushed a scroll across the desk. “I don’t care if you have to bribe these people to attend.”

“May I ask the purpose, my lord?” Lucius asked as he took the scroll and tucked it in a pocket.

“The list contains both names and reasons why each is to be invited. This is a part of our move to take over the Wizengamot. Some of the members are very open to selling their votes, while others we will handle in a slightly different manner. And yes, as I’m sure you have just realized, you will be the go-between on the first bunch. Lord Thanatos will be assisting this venture with his own special twist, to ease things along.”

Lucius smirked faintly. “My lord, may I be bold?”

Voldemort arched a brow and nodded.

“These two guests of yours are not to be Marked?”

He shook his head. “Well, not unless they request it. And, given the situation as it pertains to species, there is no conceivable need.” As expected, Lucius looked confused by that, but Voldemort saw no particular reason to enlighten the man. “Inform me the moment you have the arrangements made. Spare no expense.”

Lucius nodded. “What of the Ministry workers, my lord?”

“The lists are still being assessed. Don’t fret, Lucius, you’ll get to play with them as well soon enough. You may go.”

The second Lucius was gone Harry slinked in through the connecting door and jerked his head at the entrance to the dungeon, and after getting a nod revealed it and skipped down the stairs.

Voldemort took the time to cast the usual locking spells and then followed his mate. The dungeon was looking almost pleasant in an odd sort of way; they had been using it for their daily spar, so the usual trappings had been packed away into the unused cells.

It had not taken much discussion to come to the conclusion that the dungeon was the best place for them to exercise. None of their minions would ever be able to see that he was not the match of Lord Thanatos, for one thing. It was bad enough that the villagers in France had witnessed a duel.

Some time later they were back in their suite, both to clean up and so that Harry could feed. His mate was not of a mind to play in the tub, however. It was when they emerged back into the bedroom that Voldemort noticed something exceptionally strange. Standing in the corner was . . . himself.

“Harry, love, am I hallucinating?”

“Um. . . . No?”

Voldemort tore his eyes away from his naked duplicate and stared at his beloved expectantly. Harry shot him a rather tentative smile and stepped closer, and pressed up against him wantonly.

“Well, you see, Tom, it’s something you said a while back.”

Voldemort firmly grasped his mate’s shoulders and held him away from his body so that Harry could not distract him so easily. “Yes?”

Harry gnawed his lower lip while looking at him speculatively, then said, “You said . . . it would be interesting if there were two of you, so you could fuck both my mouth and ass at the same time. Do you remember?”

He nodded; yes, actually, he did remember.

“And, I haven’t been able to get it out of my mind.” Harry gave him a wide-eyed look, the sort that usually made his knees go all funny. “It’s a golem, of course, a sex toy. I would never, not in a million years, ever let another man touch me, Tom. But I have been having such odd thoughts of late, such strange compulsions. So I thought this could be an interesting compromise?”

“My sweet, I will agree to try this on one condition. This is not to be a regular occurrence, do you understand? I realize that it’s a golem, but I do not like to share. Still, I will indulge you, Harry, because I think you can’t help yourself right now. I think the pregnancy is affecting your . . . appetite.”

His mate smiled with clear relief and tried to press close again; Voldemort let him. “And how would you like to play this, love?” he whispered into one delicately pointed ear. “Do you want for that toy to fill you fore or aft, hm?”

Harry did not answer with anything other than a moan, and a quick look showed that his eyes were glazed over already, so Voldemort guided his mate onto the bed and positioned him on all fours. He had a wicked thought, though, and directed the golem to slide under his beloved.

Voldemort knelt on the bed behind Harry and pressed the head of his already hard cock against his mate’s anus, then slowly sheathed himself and leaned over Harry’s back to whisper, “Go on, love, show my other self just how talented your mouth and tongue are.” And once he had directed the toy to begin fellating his mate, Voldemort began to thrust into the body of his beloved, and used his own tongue to great effect on Harry’s scales.

And in some respects he was glad that Harry had worked up such a hunger; the golem’s eerie silence was somewhat off-putting. Voldemort pulled his mate away from the toy once his limbs functioned properly again and held him close, almost jealously.

“Hm,” Harry whispered after a minute. “I don’t think I want to do that again.”

Voldemort blinked. “Oh?”

“It’s just not you, Tom, no matter how much it resembles you. It doesn’t smell like you, or taste like you, or sound like you. I mean, I enjoyed that, but. . . . I just don’t want to do that again. I’ll transfigure it later and stick it in the shed, okay? Or destroy it if you want.”

He rolled his eyes out of Harry’s sight, feeling ridiculously relieved. “Your pet already has a toy, love. I would prefer you destroy it.”

Harry nodded against him, then squirmed around so he could look at his lover directly. “You still love me, don’t you? Please tell me you’re not angry.”

Voldemort inwardly smiled. “I love you very much, Harry. And no, I am not angry. I expect things will be a bit strange for a while, but we will be all right. I will never forsake you, my sweet, and I will always be here to take care of you.”

Harry smiled at him, his eyes a touch glossy, and pushed back with one leg to force the golem off the bed. It hit the floor with a thump, at which point his mate grinned. “We need the room,” he said by way of explanation. “I’m still hungry, Tom. I want you to make love to me again. Will you, please?”

Voldemort was happy to acquiesce, but made a mental note to be a lot more careful of what he said in the future when his mate was within hearing range.


A week later the supplies that Harry had ordered arrived and he was able to deliver them to a new shed in the back garden. Marius would have everything he needed to ply his craft right there within easy reach. Also arrived was a list of relatively safe Death Eaters. The two of them went over the names Lucius had offered up to see if any struck them as being unsuitable. They would have to, in their spare time, figure out a way to block the less savory Death Eaters from having access to the two men they had guaranteed the safety of.

Of course, it was also the day that Dumbledore was required to appear at the Ministry with his charge in tow. They fully expected to see an article in the next day’s paper regarding the transfer of guardianship of Harry Potter to the Ministry. Or, in other words, Rufus Scrimgeour.

And that was in fact the case. The Daily Prophet faithfully informed the public that Potter was now under the direct jurisdiction of the Ministry, and any sightings of the man were to be reported promptly so that he might be brought in. It was also true that Scrimgeour was quoted as saying, “It is in Mr Potter’s best interests to present himself to the Ministry at his earliest convenience, to avoid any potential unpleasantness. Should this not happen within a week, I will be forced to employ stern methods to enforce compliance.”

Harry snarled on hearing that, and nodded at his lover. “Well, it seems as though you were right on that prediction, Tom. Sounds a lot to me like he’s going to send out hunters.”

“I suppose you could let that go on for a bit, then lodge a strident protest on the basis of your actual citizenship,” said Marius.

“Marius does have a point, actually, subtle as it may be,” Armand added. “On the one hand, if hunters keep mysteriously disappearing, Scrimgeour is bound to suspect that you’re behind it, and things might escalate into something truly ugly. On the other hand, should you lodge the protest, the French Ministry might take up the fight on your behalf, without even bothering to consult you. Though, I expect they’ll be in for a shock once they realize that you are a citizen of France.”

Harry smirked for a second and said, “So noted,” then turned to Voldemort. “How do you think we should handle this?”

“We wait to see if Scrimgeour indeed sends out hunters, love. We will come to a decision based on his actions.”

“Okay. Say, would you two like a tour of the compound today? You’ll be with Lord Thanatos, and nobody is stupid enough to cross him even if they’re curious beyond belief. And if you’d prefer to be anonymous, I suppose we could whip up a set of hooded cloaks to conceal your faces.”

The two men exchanged a look, then nodded. “That would be nice,” Armand said.

“I don’t actually have anything on my agenda this morning, which is why I’ve thought to offer,” Harry said.

A half hour later saw all four of them exiting the house, though Voldemort split off immediately to head to his office. Armand and Marius had opted to conceal their faces, which was probably just as well for the time being. Harry led his two friends from one end of the compound to the other, and even showed them the overhead observation room (as well as related the funny story connected to it).

Armand was professionally interested during the tour of the infirmary, but confessed that he was happier in the more intimate setting Harry had provided. Marius had a tendency to pause frequently as they ambled along, his eye often caught by various things, or people.

Harry was not the least bit surprised that they attracted rather a lot of attention, but none of the Death Eaters dared to approach them. In fact, during a stop in with the training staff, most of the men pretended that the cloaked figures were figments of their imagination.

While he was showing them the offices, Voldemort suggested, to cap off the tour, that Harry have a visible workout in the field, to show the two men just how skilled he was, and to remind their minions just how dangerous their lord was.

Harry thought that was a lovely idea and slinked off to arrange for a century of golems, leaving Voldemort to play temporary escort. Armand and Marius were suitably impressed, not only by Harry himself, but also by the reaction he garnered from the watching Death Eaters.

At dinner Armand cautioned Harry again to pay particular attention to his hunger level, not having realized previously just how much exertion he was putting himself through on a regular basis.

“I promise,” Harry said solemnly, “that I will not ignore the demands of my body. And yes, I will behave myself and obey you, my mediwizard, if you tell me I need to cut back on my activities.”

That particular statement produced a rather satisfied smile on his lover’s face, causing Harry to look at him with dawning suspicion. “You . . . sneak. You had an ulterior motive for suggesting that demonstration.”

“Harry, love, would I do a thing like that?”

He scowled. “Obviously.”

Voldemort’s smile morphed into a decided smirk.

“Bloody hell. And you two”—he scowled even harder—“stop laughing at me.” Harry decided that if his lover wasn’t going to play fair, then damn it, neither would he. He pulled out the big guns and aimed a watery-eyed pout at Voldemort, looking just as pathetic as he could possibly manage.

The smirk disappeared a split second later, to be replaced with an expression of genuine concern. “Harry, please tell me I haven’t actually upset you.”

He sniffled and averted his gaze. A second or two later Voldemort was kneeling at his side, looking at him anxiously. “Harry?”

Harry gnawed on his lower lip in an attempt to prevent a smile from erupting, and failed miserably. Voldemort reached up to grab his chin with one hand. “If it were anyone else. . . .” Then he pushed up, pausing long enough to drop a fierce kiss on Harry’s lips, and resumed his seat. “All right, love, I get the point.”

He grinned happily and nodded, but still said, “I apologize for doing that in front of others, Tom, I’m sorry. I stand by what I said, though. I’ll behave if you tell me I need to cut back, Armand.”

“I am glad to hear that, Harry. Now, to change the subject, might I inquire as to who that young man was we saw, the one that resembles your Lucius Malfoy?”

“Him? That’s Draco, Lucius’s son.”

“The one from the stories?”

Harry laughed and nodded. “That’s the one. Remind me later to tell you about his stint as a girl. I think he almost gave his mother a run for her money in the looks department.”

“I can’t wait to hear about that,” Marius said. “Everything so far has been hilarious.”

Harry grinned and got to his feet, then began shuttling plates over to the sink so the scrubber could attack them. “Well, going on the idea that I’m behaving and all that. . . .” He cast a soulful look at his lover. “Shall we retire for the evening?”

Upstairs, in the privacy of their sitting room, Harry immediately apologized again. “I’m sorry. I know, I was upset that you tricked me, but I shouldn’t have done that. You had a good reason, after all.”

Voldemort pulled him close and kissed him softly. “I’m sorry, too. I should have been honest about my motives. I’m supposed to take care of you, so naturally, I found a way to make sure that Armand knew exactly what sort of exercise you’ve been getting.”

“We forgive each other?”

“We forgive each other,” Voldemort agreed. “Now, are you tired, love, or hungry?”

Harry shook his head and pushed his lover toward his usual chair, then stripped off his clothing with a certain sense of relief and climbed onto Voldemort’s lap. “There was something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“What is it?”

“I’m concerned, and a little confused, Tom. It’s about Armand and Marius. I’m starting . . . to almost think of them as family, and that scares me. I know, I’ve got some serious trust issues. I just can’t decide if I should push past that, or if I’m justified in being so wary. I really like them, and a part of me is being quite insistent that I accept them into my . . . heart, I guess.”

Voldemort appeared to consider that for several minutes, then gazed at him soberly. “Love, I believe there’s a very good reason that members of your species—ours, actually, considering what those tests revealed—live in settlements or colonies. I believe you do need the support of your own kind, even if here you are technically their matriarch.

“Consider that, all unknowing, I used the blood of a magical creature, a potential incubus, in my rebirth ceremony. And I was affected, despite my ignorance of the situation. It was not so long after that when my obsessions waned, and by the time you were removed from the scene for so-called training, I was quite nearly sane again.

“I’ve come to realize in the time you’ve been with me just how unsatisfied I was with my life, especially during the four years of your captivity. It is, I admit, difficult to understand what you’re missing when you’ve never experienced it to begin with.

“I, too, have been feeling to some degree that these two men belong in some way. You feeling as though they are family, or ought to be, is not a surprise to me. So yes, I think you should work at getting past your trust issues, justified as they are, for them at least. And there has been nothing whatsoever that would make me think either of them deserves suspicion or mistrust.”

Harry pressed in close and buried his face in his lover’s neck, planting a soft kiss there. He had cared, so much, about Ron and Hermione, and they had betrayed him almost easily. But then, they weren’t magical creatures, with particular instincts. He supposed, in some tiny way, that it made a difference that Armand and Marius were nominally under their control due to their societal roles.

And it was not as though his personality had changed as a result of living with members of his own species. Harry was just as willing to wade in blood if the situation called for it as happily prepare a meal for the enjoyment of others. He supposed he was a touch less violent of late, but attributed that to his pregnancy, which was most assuredly having an effect on his body.

Voldemort stroked his flank and said softly, “Lucius said something I found amusing earlier. He inquired as to whether or not our two friends would be Marked.”

Harry sat back with a puzzled expression. “Why on earth would we do that?”

His lover smirked and responded, “I told him they would not be, unless they requested it, which I sincerely doubt they ever would.”

He shook his head. “I can’t for the life of me imagine either of them asking for that. Maybe he was curious because we’re wanting to make it possible for them to have the run of the compound?”

“Perhaps. And speaking of lifetime commitments, love. . . . It occurs to me that it is later.”


“You agreed that we could revisit the matter of your vow, and whether or not you would let me release you from it.”

“Oh.” He had said that, hadn’t he. Blast. “I still don’t care, Tom. It’s still the same to me. If you asked me to make that same vow right now, I would. In fact, I rather like that there’s absolutely no question of my loyalty to you. I can’t bear the thought that you could or would ever doubt me. No, I don’t want you to release me. I’m perfectly content with how things are.”

Voldemort tilted his head to the side before saying, “And that attitude could be a direct result of the vow, love.”

Harry shook his head stubbornly. “I don’t care. If you insist on removing it, okay, but I really don’t want you to. Tom, please. I’m already dependant on you for my very life. Let me have this?”

His lover pulled him in for a kiss and stroked the side of his face tenderly. “As you wish, my sweet. I will not bring it up again.”

Associated Snapshot: Amenable