Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter, I own nothing and make no profit from anything.

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The Battle at the end of seventh year had left both Harry and Voldemort broken and bleeding. Now eight year has started and Harry is once again thrown in to the position of sacrificial lamb. In this story, Harry knew nothing of Horcruxes and Dumbledore didn't die.

Why Aren't I Dead?

Harry walked slowly towards the great hall for lunch; the injury on his leg had not yet cleared and he was really struggling to get around. His head was down, his longish hair falling over his cheek where his latest battle wound lay. There was a deep, angry scar that ran from the top of the right of Harry's forehead down to the bottom of his neck, running underneath his collar and finishing about three inches above the waistband of his jeans.

He often felt very self-conscious of his latest battle wound, hence the growth of hair. A lot of things had changed since that day, he often found his once flawless control of his temper slipping, causing him to lash out and become violent and vicious. He had yet to injure anyone too seriously, but he had struggled more and more with pulling himself back.

Harry walked towards the heavy oak door and finding himself without the strength to open it physically he stretched his magic out, letting it wind around the door and open it. Harry's capability with wandless and wordless magic had grown considerably since the final battle. Dumbledore had told him to be careful because this could be a sign of him losing his magic, Harry had just scoffed and walked out of the room before visiting Snape who informed him that it just happened because he exerted himself so hugely before his magical inheritance that the metaphorical walls that had been holding the magic steady had burst, allowing him full access to his power.

He limped weakly to the closest end of the Gryffindor table, lowered himself to the bench, and trying to ignore the glares that he was being sent from pretty much everyone in the hall. He didn't move to get food, he sat there, attempting ardently, to make himself appear as little and inconsequential as possible. It was then that he realised his display of power by opening the door wandlessly probably hadn't put him in the best position.

He stared avidly at the shiny gold plate that adorned the table in front of him placing his hands on his knees under the table. He didn't move as he heard footsteps and felt the shadows fall over him. It wasn't until he heard someone clear their throat that he decided to stand and greet them. He watched Ron's eyes flick briefly to his new scar, before the red head smirked.

"Harry Potter thinks he's better than everyone, opens the door wandlessly, and gets away with murder." Ron snarled crossing his arms over his chest, feeding off the encouragement that Shamus, Dean and Neville were giving him. Harry felt the anger well in him at the last comment though; an angry swell of emotions that had been held back for too long.

"You couldn't even kill the dark lord could you potter?" Shamus taunted. "The only reason you were put on the planet and you can't even do that can you?"

Harry's fists clench by his sides and the air start to swirl around him.

"Dumbledore's little lap dog failed his master, didn't he Ron?" Hermione called from the end of the table and Harry spun around to face her, glaring unabashedly before taking a step towards her.

The next part happened very fast.

Ron gripped Harry's upper arm to prevent him from attacking his girlfriend, the chosen one's short fuse was no secret after his spectacular attack of Rita Skeeter and Ron had secretly been foaming at the mouth for a chance to beat the dark haired boy back into place. And at the feeling of the youngest Weasley boy touching him Harry's magic lashed out and as he spun the red head was sent flying across the room, flying gracelessly through the air to land harshly on top of the Gryffindor tables feast.

Harry smirked at this, an animalistic glint in his eyes as he advanced towards his former best friend.

"Harrison Potter you stop this right now." Dumbledore roared from the head table, standing dramatically and smacking his old and crippled hands on the table, looking ruffled and irritated for the first time Harry could remember since he had met the man.

"I have had enough old man." He screamed back; the dam that had been holding everything back since the showdown with Tom finally breaking. "I'm tired of being your puppet, your chess piece that you are willing to lose."

"Grow up you foolish boy; it had never been about you. We needed someone to save the wizarding world, and you happened to be there, killing your parents was a necessary evil." There were collective whispers throughout the room as Dumbledore spoke the last sentence.

"You bastard." Harry spoke as tears welled in his eyes, the anger flaring and then settling as he realised what he had done.

"But Tom… he didn't kill them?" he asked, all powerful image being replaced with that of a child, broken alone and scared, realising that he had trusted the wrong grown up.

"No you stupid boy, he needed to be stopped and I needed to make someone angry enough to do it."

"Well you can find someone else old man." The teen said quietly before apperating away, straight into Malfoy Manor's meeting hall.

There was a commotion when he landed, a rush of noise before he looked up and took in his surroundings.

He had landed directly in front of Tom Riddle, about twenty metres separating them; death eaters lined both sides of him. When Tom stood from his throne his followers fell silent almost immediately.

Harry dropped his gaze towards the floor in a submissive gesture, slowly walking toward the powerful man with calculated, measured steps. He didn't flinch when the death eaters hissed and spat at him, not even moving to wipe the spit from his face and neck.

He paused when he was in front of Tom; still not meeting his eyes he took a deep breath before dropping to his knees and resting his forehead on the older man's bare feet.

"Please." He begged, not entirely sure what he was asking for. "Please."

He almost sobbed as he heard Tom's voice call out to dismiss the death eaters, pressing his face closer to the dark lord's feet.

He heard them apperate, disappearing one by one until he was certain they were all gone. The sudden voice of Severus Snape behind him caused him to jump.

"Milord-" The potions master began only to be cut off by his masters voice.

"Leave." He repeated, firmer this time, stressing the fact that even the dark lords most trusted spy would not be spared the torture if he dismissed this order.

Snape inclined his head in a bow before the tell-tale crack of apperation clued harry in to his departure.

Nothing was heard for a few minutes following Snape's exit, Harry had almost begun to think that Tom himself had left if it weren't for the cold feet that his head rested on. He didn't flinch as he felt the cold hand caress his cheek and guide him to standing. He looked into the red eyes of Voldemort, the serpentine face, the hairless head and almost sobbed out his grief to the man he had persecuted for false crimes.

He felt the tears well as Voldemort dropped the glamour and his face slowly morphed into that of the young Tom Riddle, possibly only twenty five years old.

And as his nemesis's eyes changed from blood red to chocolate brown he choked out a sob and collapsed into the surprised dark lords arms.

"I trusted the wrong person." He cried as Tom wrapped his arms around the warm body of the teen, smiling softly as he realised that he must have discovered the truth.

"Shh, little one, it will all be okay now, it will all be okay."

"I'm so sorry, so sorry." He choked out between gut wrenching sobs and gasping breaths.

Tom frowned at the boy's distress, quickly apperating them to his personal chambers and using his magic to light a strong fire in the hearth to warm the boy. He carefully cradled a still sobbing Harry in his arms as he glanced back and forth between the bed and the sofa. Not knowing if settling them on the bed would imply that he wanted something from the boy and ruin the foundations of their tentative friendship.

Moving towards the sofa he placed the boy down before moving towards the bed, only to be stopped by Harry's vice like grip on his neck. "Please don't, don't leave I'm sorry, just don't leave, please no more, no one else." He cried into Tom's neck as the older man tried to pry his arms away from his neck.

"Harry, I'm just getting a blanket off the bed." He explained, letting the boy have a moment to decide if he was telling the truth or not. He eventually nodded, letting his arms slacken slightly so that Tom could pull away and retrieve the blanket.

Tom returned as quickly as possible wrapping the blanket around them both and then settling on the sofa in front of the fire with the teen in his arms.

"Will you tell me what happened Harry?" he asked quietly, stroking a hand along the teens face and wondering how far the scar stretched down his body.

Harry shook his head in the negative and curled closer into Tom, wrapping his hands into Tom's shirt and tucking his legs into his chest.

"Okay, sleep then." Harry flinched as Tom shifted and the older man wrapped his arms tighter around him. "I shall be here when you wake, have no doubt of that."

As Harry drifted off to sleep Tom reached into his own mind and pulled forth the power he needed to access the teen's mind. Slipping in as delicately as possible so that he didn't disturb the teens sleep he worked his way through the copious memories of abuse both at home and school, the lies that Dumbledore had told the boy, the way his friends had treated him, and the curse that Dumbledore had sent at the boy to disfigure him.

He sat for a while, thinking through the teen's memories, the hardship, the loss, and after a while, having sat with Harry's warmth settled in his side, he couldn't imagine killing the boy who was similar to him in so many ways.

He jolted awake a few hours later after falling asleep, the dream that had disturbed him quickly slipping away like smoke as he tried desperately to catch it. A moment of disorientation struck him as he realised he wasn't lay on his bed and that he had a very warm and affectionate person lay curled up into him, but then he remembered it all and groaned, dragging his hand across his face roughly.

He didn't really know where to go from here; The Boy Who Lived, broken, abused and lied to. Fighting under a pretence, manipulated and used for the greater good. He scoffed at his own thoughts.

He had never looked after a teen; he had never looked after anyone, not a partner, a parent or even himself really. How was he going to help a boy when he couldn't even help himself?

He pulled Harry closer to him when he felt the boy start to shiver, relighting the fire wordlessly and wandlessly before tugging the blanket up to Harry's neck. By the time that he had finished he couldn't remember ever being warmer. A seventeen year old boy had melted the ice that was shot through lord Voldemort's veins.

Harry began to stir eventually, pulling the blanket right up to his chin and frowning as Tom chuckled lightly at the cuteness of the teen.

"Five more minutes." he groaned, turning his head into Tom's stomach where he was currently laying.

"But Mr Potter, my legs are going quite numb." he smirked as Harry flinched away quickly and fell of the sofa as he scrambled away from the human pillow.

"Wha- I mean... I... I... What?" he spluttered out, shaking his head and rubbing his hands across his eyes.

"You fell asleep little one." Tom said smiling softly at the boy. "Well, we both did."

"I don't understand why aren't I..."

"Dead?" Tom finished for him, frowning at the idea of killing him after everything he found out. "I don't know Harry, honestly? I can't bear the thought of killing you little one."

Harry blushed at this; a beautiful pink that spread across his cheeks and made I him look delectably innocent.

"Why?" the teen asked, still taking an avid interest in the edge of the blanket that he had managed to take with him when he fell.

"I'm not quite sure." he admitted, smiling bashfully at the teen.

They sat in awkward silence for a while before Tom cleared his throat and asked Harry if he would like to eat breakfast in front of the fire or in the dining room.

Harry quickly replied with here please and stood from the floor, still wrapped in his blanket, and sat on the sofa next to Tom silently so their legs were touching. It was awkward, both of them still thinking of the previous evening and the closeness they had shared, neither of them being able to remember when they had ever been that contented.

Remembering the safety that he had felt whilst he was in Tom's arms Harry summoned some of his Gryffindor courage and lent towards Tom, resting his head on the man's neck and taking a deep breath.

Tom smiled at the teen, leaning back onto the sofa, wrapping his arms around the boy and pulling them so they were lay back down together under the blanket.

"Is this okay?" Harry asked timidly as he drew circles on Tom's chest with his index finger.

"More than okay." Tom whispered, heat pooling in his stomach as he watched the teen play with the buttons on his shirt. Harry chose that exact moment to look up at Tom, their faces only inches away.

Harry was shaking a little as he lifted his head closer to Tom's and pressed their lips together softly. He moved quickly after that initial touch, sitting them up and sitting on Tom's lap with his legs wrapped around his waist as his hands twined with the older man's hair and tugged their faces together and began to rock his hips rhythmically against Tom's.

"Harry wha-" Tom began to ask but harry kiss him off with another bruising kiss.

"Please Tom." Harry groaned, throwing his head back, showing Tom the delectable creaminess of Harry's long, slender neck which Tom wasted no time in attacking Harry's neck with kisses and bites causing the younger man to mewl and moan, canting his hips continuously into Tom's.

"Please what?" the older demanded, giving in to the desire to have Harry, consequences be damned.

"Take me." Harry moaned out stripping them both of clothes completely with an outstanding demonstration of wandless/wordless magic. They both moaned out at the skin on skin contact, pushing more frantically into each other before Tom growled and rolled them over so that he was settled between Harry's spread legs.

"Have you ever?" tom asked softly, slowing the pace down immensely as he rubbed his hands up and down over the inside of Harry's thighs.

Harry shook his head without taking his eyes from Tom's. "Never." He whispered looking down at Tom's member, eyes widening as he saw the size of it. "Will it fit?" Harry asked biting his lip harshly.

Tom smiled softly at Harry's inexperience before nodding in the affirmative and leaning down to capture his lips in a gentle kiss.

"Tom please, take me." Harry begged, thrusting his hips up to try and get some much needed friction on his hard member.

"Harry." Tom moaned as he muttered a spell to prepare Harry magically, running the tip of one finger around the teen's hole before gripping the base of his solid cock and guiding it to his entrance.

Harry wrapped his legs tightly around Tom's waist as he felt the head of the other man's penis push against his opening. Their eyes met and tom pushed in smoothly with no resistance.

They both cried out at the feeling of being joined for the first time, pausing for a second before Tom began thrusting slowly and gently into Harry, adamant that his first time would be special and loving.

Leaning down as Harry began to rock against him Tom lavished attention on Harry's lips and neck, cursing himself for nearly ending the boy before when he was so glorious.

"Ah, Voldemort." Harry gasped as he arched into the older man and Tom cursed as white hot pleasure shot through him upon hearing that name fall from Harry's lips in pleasure and not pain for the first time.

Their thrusts sped up in tempo as they reached their climaxed; Harry cumming first, the pleasure to great and his endurance to small as he spilled over his and Tom's chests. Tom reaching his own climax shortly after, filling his lover with his essence before he collapsed on to Harry's chest and kissed the sensitive skin at the base of his neck once more.

"Why didn't you kill me?" Harry asked again, breathless.

"I love you." Was Tom's reply.

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