The Memory of a Dark Lord

by Honeybat

Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me, I'm just playing with him for fun, not for money.

Part One

Harry Potter woke with a start. He instantly remembered what had happened to him. He'd opened the Dursleys' front door at a polite knock and found himself faced by a smirking Potions Professor and his pointed wand. Before he could even ask what the Professor was doing there - somehow he didn't believe he was there to wish him a happy seventeenth birthday - he was stunned, point blank.

He looked around, as much as he could. He was bound, his wrists and ankles magically fastened to the four corners of a good size four poster bed. The room was large and well lit, it would probably fit into any well appointed manor-house. There were no magical paintings, but several old tapestries with floral motives. Strangely, there seemed to be no oppressing dark aura about the place, like at the Order headquarters.

The door burst open and Snape walked in. The man was smiling, smiling like a loon in Harry's opinion, and he wasn't looking very greasy for once. He closed the door behind him and tossed the large bundle of cloth he was carrying onto a chair next to the bed before even acknowledged Harry.

"What's going on Professor? Why did you do this to me?" he blurted out.

"You're seventeen, Potter. It's time for you to learn the best kept secret of the wizarding world today." The man smirked mischievously and brought out his black wand with a flourish. "Can you guess what it is?"

Harry was surprised at the amicable tone to the reply. Where was the usual disgust and loathing? Harry felt like he'd been hit with a Confundus. "No, I really can't. Are you perhaps a woman under all those confining robes, Professor? Have you come to proposition me?" he asked, turning on the cheek.

The professor snorted out a laugh and made a kissy mouth. "Want to snog, do you, Potter?"

Harry made a face in disgust. That one obviously caught him on the return volley. "I think not," he shuddered.

The Professor took a step forwards and put his knee to the bed between Harry's legs. His eyes bore into Harry. "Are you absolutely sure?"

Harry tried to shrink back, but his limbs were tied too taut for that. "What the hell is going on here?" he growled.

The professor whirled away from Harry and instead sat next to him on the bedside. From that comfortable distance, he put his black wand to Harry's temple, as if to extract a pensieve memory. He unsuccessfully tried to squirm away, but the wand easily followed his movement. He didn't hear any incantation, but he could feel magic pulse through his head and focus on his scar. "No! What are you doing to me?"

"Good bye, Harry Potter," his Professor whispered maliciously into his ear.

"Let me refresh your memory. On Halloween of 1981, Lord Voldemort hit you with a killing curse. The curse rebounded. In doing so he split what was left of his soul and half attached itself to your forehead. The Dark Lord's body could not be sustained by what was left and it burned. In knowing his remaining soul could not sustain a living body, he choose to possess the little boy he had just tried to kill. His last bits of soul merged back together in the boy, and in doing so also found out that the young boy's soul had moved on and the body had somehow managed to live with just the tiny piece of the dark lord's soul even if his adult body had not."

Harry blinked, he knew this story. He remembered being trapped in a too small body, barely able to speak. Information flooded through his head. He replied, also with a whisper. "When you found me in a cupboard at the Dursleys', I asked you to block my memories until I was seventeen again, as I did not wish to grow up with my full knowledge and personality...it would have been impossible to hide...Why do I remember that? How could I possibly?"

The Professor, no Severus, grinned. "Welcome back, Tom."

More and more memories flooded his mind, he began remembering things before... "What did you do?" The scar was heating up as more and more of his past was released to his awareness. He squinted his eyes closed and twisted his head back and forth in agony. He grabbed his head in pain when Snape released him from the shackles. His sense of self was twisting, one moment he felt like Harry Potter trying to prevent Voldemort from taking over his mind again, the next moment he was Tom trying to come to terms with being reborn as an enemy of his previous self. Two completely different sets of values clashed violently in his mind even as more and more memories, experiences and emotions surfaced from deep within him.

He squeezed his eyes shut when one last pulse of pain hit him from the scar, before everything went quiet and calm. It was done. "I'm back!" he sighed, relaxing even as he opened his eyes again. He immediately caught the black gaze of Snape, who was affectionately caressing the side of his face, carding his fingers through his hair.

Tom let the affectionate gesture warm him. This man, this wizard, was his partner, his bonded, his lover. Together, they were the Dark Lord Voldemort. Tom looked into the black eyes and returned the smile. "Thank you, Severus." Then he grabbed the man by the neck and pulled him down. "I think I want that snog now," he mumbled before he caught that delicious mouth of his partner's.

The mass of memories settled into his mind, they completely covered the bare ground that had been Harry Potter, completely obscuring the young man's identity. The reality of what had happened that Halloween night had in the end subdued the Harry in him. There was after all no Harry, the boy's soul had been banished by the Killing curse as always, only the tiny piece of Tom had saved the body from death, thus making it possible for Tom to survive.

Seeing Tom had settled, Severus took charge of the situation again. "We better seal everything in place," Severus mumbled and moved the wand tip across his forehead. Several criss-cross movements across the lightning-bolt scar and Tom could feel the flood of memories that had already tapered off settle in their rightful place with a snap. He touched his forehead and found the constantly sore scar to be healed and gone.

"Now for the magical part," Severus continued. "Can't have the most powerful Dark Lord walk around without his power, now can we?" He now moved his wand to chest level. He vanished the ratty t-shirt over to a corner of the room and put his wand to the middle of the breast bone. "Thine power, held in safety by your most trusted, are hereby given back to you, my bonded."

Both of them screamed out in both pleasure and pain as their power again became fully shared between them. Tom's young body sang with the reunited dark power. It overwhelmed him and corrupted him once again. He grabbed his mate and pulled him down for another kiss, he couldn't get enough. The kiss was absolutely delicious. Moments later they were both naked and confirming their old bond.

Afterwards, Severus fell asleep on his chest. He caressed the silky black strands of his lover. "Let's never be apart again," he vowed silently. Their separation had definitely been the hardest for the younger man, who was now the physically older of them. His chest swelled with affection and possessiveness and he realized why Harry Potter had never known true love; even without his true memories, his heart was already taken.

Albus Dumbledore was both right and wrong about Lord Voldemort; he may be without any mercy or conscience and thrived on brutality and bloodshed, but he knew love, he had love and he had been conquered by love. The prophecy had been fulfilled in that Harry Potter and Tom Riddle couldn't both exist at the same time; they were the same person. The Lord Voldemort of Harry's school days weren't same person as before the fall after all. The Voldemort Harry had fought at every turn, that he had supposedly resurrected, now lay in his arms, sleeping contentedly. How ironic.

He held up the hand he'd been caressing Severus with. It was a hand long accustomed to hard labor, calloused and scarred. The nails were dirty and chipped. Testing his returned powers, he brought up the Metamorph power he'd been born with some seventy years ago. The slightly chubby fingers grew long, thin and smoothly pale, he let the nails thicken and darken into claws. This was the hand of the Lord Voldemort Severus had resurrected. Once he'd seen someone, even if only once, the change came instinctively.

Severus stirred above him when he let the change take his whole body. Severus lifted his head and looked into his new face. "Bloody Hell, Tom!" he blurted out and got off the bed.

"What?" he asked mock innocently. "You created this look for me, don't tell me it turns you off now!" He found his new voice to be sibilant and smooth. He ran a hand across his face and it was papery dry and smooth all the way across his head. He had gained some serpentine qualities before the fall, but this was taking it a huge step further, perhaps even too far, he decided.

"It's not like you have to see yourself when you wear that body, now is it?" Severus sneered back. "The intimidation effect is better than anything, but not a face I wish to wake up to in the morning, no!"

Tom laughed. "You like to be all ugly, but you do not want to see it yourself, huh?" He reached out and tweaked Severus on the nose with a claw even as he slipped comfortably back into the body of Tom Riddle he'd worn for decades. It had red, slitted eyes and his eye teeth were sharper than normal, but it was still very much a human face. It was the face he'd used when Severus had fallen in love with him and bonded with him.

"I'm not your young boy lover anymore, Tom. I've lived a hard life while we were apart."

Tom smirked. "Now that I'm back to myself I find that I enjoy your face, even with some added character to it. But, honey, you just have to lose the grease. Please!"

Severus laughed and what had remained of the Potions Master's Greasy Git persona evaporated completely. His face flushed with healthy color, his teeth straightened and paled and said hair surrounded his face in gentle curls. Even with the same hooked and crooked nose, he no longer looked like he was pushing Muggle sixty, more like a healthy Wizarding forty, like Tom himself. "Better, my love?"

Tom pulled him down and kissed him hungrily.

"That was the best birthday I've had since we were separated," he mused when they again rested, this time next to each other on the bed.

Severus did a quick tempus. "It's not over yet, how about we go out for dinner?"

"Good idea, though I'd love to have some fun first. You do realize I haven't killed anyone in years and years." He smirked maliciously. "There's nothing better to work up an appetite than a good massacre. Besides, I haven't eaten more than some dry bread crusts and water for days."

Severus winced. "I'm sorry, dearest. Since the old man started having order members guarding you I couldn't sneak in and dose you. You would have died several times over from malnutrition or excessive beatings if i had not snuck in with potions for you during the early years. It's a disgrace, really. Here you get a chance at a second childhood and that bloody fool Dumbledore blows it all to hell by having you starved and abused."

Tom sighed and shook his head. "Yeah, third time he turned a blind eye and that is just with the two of us." He shook himself out of the depressing thoughts. "Have you made reservations anywhere? Who do we go as?"

"I told Manos to whip us up a feast tonight."

"Olde Town, Rhodes? That's a marvellous idea. That crazy little elf is still with us? Wait, he's Dobby, isn't he?"

Severus nodded. "Besides popping up at Hogwarts whenever you think of him, he still maintains the old manor down there. I've been down a couple times a year, just to get away from all the politics up here. You know I prefer it when you run things, these last few years have been tough."

"No wonder you were such a menace in class," Tom mumbled.

"What was that, Mr Potter?"

"Nothing, Sir," Tom laughed. "I do understand why you were like that, now that I know the real you. I can't even imagine seeing you every day and not being able to be with you, or even talk to you."

Hermione Granger was celebrating her freedom from the stuffy British wizarding world at a magical dance club in Olde Town, Rhodes. The Greek, or for that matter most southern european wizards and witches, were a lot more relaxed and laid back in their attitudes towards life and the mundane part of the world. After a couple days in the bustling city, she'd just about decided to leave England completely as soon as she finished school. It had shocked her to start with to find her Muggle heritage to be of absolutely no consequence down there.

Magicals had their own district, of course, but other than that they mixed freely with the local mundane population. With their voluminous tan robes and colorful wraps, the local magicals were often mistaken for arabs or africans among the Muggle tourists, and in Hermione's eyes that worked well as a way to hide their true heritage as magicals.

She had bought one of the colorful wraps herself, and this evening when she was searching out one of the dance clubs she wore it on top of a matching red mini dress. She'd bought a pair of the charmed heels she'd seen other young women wear. They were five inches, yet still super comfortable.

She had long ago come to terms with her untamable hair, tonight she wore it like a halo of messy curls around her head, tapering off down her back.

The dance club was surprisingly on the rooftop of a restaurant. This would never have been allowed in the mundane part of town, since the music would have been too disruptive. Here, the wards kept the music to the immediate roof area only. Additionally, the area was charmed so that any human communication could be heard perfectly even through the loud, pounding music. The energy of the place washed over her like a massive wave as she stepped out onto the roof. It was pure magic of all the flavors. She took in the massive amount of bodies dancing. This was certainly more like a London Muggle club than the tame wizarding dancehalls she'd been to around Britain. "This is more like it!" she grinned at the bartender. "Hit me with a Blaster, will ya?" she ordered, sliding two sickles across the counter.

The drink soon slid up to her on the counter. "Welcome to Greece!" the bartender smiled back and swiped the coins.

She nodded and turned towards the room. Leaning on the counter, she sniffed the milky white shot. It was the wizarding version of ouzo and it carried a flaming kick much like the British fire-whiskey. The sharp licorice fumes cleared her airways instantly and she toasted her best friend even if he was far away. "Happy birthday, Harry!"

As intended, the drink energized her and she bounced out onto the dance floor.

The dance floor was a maze of sexual heat. Hermione found herself popular among the wizards in a way she'd never experienced at home. It was a massive free for all, touch, taste and feel orgie that ended very close to full out intercourse. She didn't care, she'd prepared herself with several anti-disease and anti-pregnancy charms and potions. If she found someone she desired, she wouldn't back off.

Her first catch had the most beautiful black eyes, the most luscious black hair framing his face she'd ever seen, a smile to die for and an extremely greek nose he ran down her neck along with his lips. When he pressed her back up against him as they gyrated and bit her ear, she mewled in heated agony. His large hands roamed her belly and ended up kneading her breasts and massaging her nipples.

She let her head fall to his shoulder and closed her eyes. Then suddenly, she had another mouth on the other side of her neck and a hard body against her front. She opened her eyes and found the most perfect man she'd ever seen looking up from her neck with a blazing smile. "Hello, My Goddess!" he purred and used his hand to guide her mouth to his. His touch was pure magic, and her hands ran up his neck into his long dark brown hair. Her fingers tingled at the touch, as did her mouth and front where they touched. Who was this man to move her in such a way, to entice even her magic?

The two men were sharing her between them, and she'd never experienced anything as erotic as to watch the two men kiss and caress not only her but each other. They swept her away.

She didn't know when they switched the club for a large bed dressed in thin white muslin, but that's where she woke up the next morning. Sunshine was flooding in through the open french window and she was in the middle of two sleeping men, both with their arms wrapped around their bed partners. There was no way she could escape either the bed or her mortification.

One of them stirred as she made an attempt to extricate herself from them. "Mmmmm. how is my favorite little know-it-all this morning?" came a dark purr next to her.

She sprung up to sitting position in the blink of a shocked eye. She knew that voice! She turned towards the sleepy guy next to her and in the light of day she realized she was absolutely correct. She felt faint. "P-p-professor S-snape, sir?"

He grinned sleepily at her. "Please, call me Severus," he smirked.

She turned on the bed to check just who the other man in the bed was when Severus elbowed him awake. "Hey, Tom, wakie wakie," he teased, completely un-Snape-like.

The chocolatey brown eyes that opened sleepily and met hers, still stirred her hormones, she immediately realized. Thankfully it didn't seem to be someone she knew. "Morning, Goddess," he mumbled, his mouth turning into a half smile that was absolutely adorable.

"Morning," she mumbled, blushing at his intense scrutiny.

He rested his head on one arm and gently caressed her bare arm with his free hand. He smirked. "I'm Tom Riddle, this is Severus Snape. But you already know him, don't you Hermione?"

His hand was clamped around her wrist before she could fly off the bed. "What?"

The smirk grew. "Yes, young Hermione, you just had wonderful, mind blowing, sex, with the Dark Lord and his partner."

This time she fainted right off. She didn't hear them laugh.

soon to be continued...