A big thanks to all the people who reviewed, you're fantastic!
Okay, I hope chapter isn't confusing, because I decided we needed some more Remy and Snap...so they got thrown in...and the backstory ends here, finally! Remind me to never to backstories ever again...and I guess that's it...though I'm rather impressed with the way the whole chapter all ties in together...I think it's beautiful, it's like the temptation of Harry or something...
Chapter Twenty-Seven
"There are a lot of variables."
"Of course there are a lot of variables," Remus said with a grin, "this is the game we're talking about, if there wasn't something nonsensical about it, we'd have finished eons ago."
"Doesn't mean I have to like it," Severus replied, dropping the paper he was looking at. The paper fluttered to the desk, impeccably drawn runes covering it.
"What do you like?" Remus asked, teasing. "Because from the sour look you have on your face I'm thinking you don't like anything very much."
"There's a difference between disliking the imbeciles I have to put up with day in and day out and disliking the odds of winning the game," Severus told Remus simply, holding his hand up next to a quill, causing it to float off the surface of the desk. "The winner of the game holds the fate of the world in their hands, and you know as well as I do that there are some people who should not have that sort of power."
"And I would think one such person would be one of those imbeciles that's a bloodsucking leech in training," Remus commented, standing up and heading over to the desk Severus was sitting behind. He watched the quill float above the surface of the desk before plucking it out of the invisible threads of psychic powers that held it in place. "I'm amazed you like that major variable."
"The boy has a lot of power," Snape conceded, "and he knows better than some how to yield it, and he knows exactly what abuse of power can lead to, as he'd been a victim of such misuse for a great deal of his life."
"'Power corrupts,'" Remus commented as he placed the quill back on the desk before Severus, "'and absolute power corrupts absolutely.'"
"I can't see him allowing power to corrupt him," Severus sighed, "at least too much…"
"Can I stop there?" Harry whined, staring up imploringly at Sin. He leaned his mouth close to Sin's body and complained, "I'm so hungry, please, please…"
"You can't expect to stop there," Sin replied, "sounded like you were just getting started on the actual story."
Sin reached up a hand and stroked Harry's cheek, and Harry, hardly away of what he was doing twisted his head and caught the fingers between his teeth. He could feel the pulsing of the blood beneath his teeth, but he couldn't get to it—the smell of it was so completely overpowering to Harry and he swayed and bit harder on the fingers. It was so frustrating to Harry t feel what he wanted, no needed and not be able to have it
"You'll get nothing like that," Sin told Harry, and he took hold of Harry's chin, and tapped Harry's canine, "this is where your fangs will be, you incisors are too blunt to break skin easily."
When Sin touched that tooth a fierce tingling exploded within it (clearly destroying my teeth were not enough for my brother who has also killed one of the golden boy's teeth as well, Harry will be requiring a root canal and penicillin also) and Harry was nearly blinded from absolute need.
"Looks like you're getting your fang buds," Sin commented, and Harry vaguely wondered through his bloodlust if Sin was teasing, Sin pressed a finger to the tip of the tooth and then pulled back and Harry went after his hand and caught the heel of Sin's palm with his teeth.
Harry heard a grating moan erupt from his throat and couldn't manage the energy to feel embarrassed.
"I suppose I can feed the little hungry baby," Sin teased, and then he managed to disengage his hand from Harry's teeth. Sin quickly tore open the skin of his wrist and Harry pounced upon him, on all fours, lips latching onto Sin's bleeding wrist, palms flat on Sin's thigh.
Sin allowed him to remain in that position for a little, but then he began moving his wrist away from his body, saying, "All right, you're starting to cut off my blood circulation."
Harry settled back onto his haunches and pulled away from Sin's bleeding wrist, his teeth red with blood, grinning, "What circulation? Your heart doesn't beat."
"Hush you," Sin chided, "and stop playing with your food, it's impolite."
"What," Harry teased, licking up a trail of blood. He felt much better now that his hunger was being abated, "I thought my food liked getting played…with."
Sin didn't think that deigned a response, and Harry latched back onto Sin's already closing wound, gnawing at it with his teeth to keep it open. Sin hissed slightly in pain and commented, "I can see I'm going to have to teach you table manners all over again. Because they're currently absolutely abysmal."
Harry grinned playfully around Sin's wrist, blood seeping out of the side of his mouth.
"Yes," Sin affirmed, nodding, "absolutely abysmal."
Harry then returned his full attention to Sin's wrist and sucked deeply on the wound, tonguing it deeply whenever the blood flow slowed a bit. Sin waited and watched Harry feed patiently.
Harry's eyes lazed up to look at Sin, and then he snickered, blood bubbling out of the sides of his mouth.
"Were you always this messy or is this a recent development?" Sin asked, as Harry began a rather valiant effort to lick the blood off of his own cheek. "And just what is so funny, anyway?"
"You looked like…" Harry paused grinning, his cheeks becoming a bit flushed, "a mum…which kinda makes sense because it's like you're breastfeed—"
Sin stared at Harry incredulously and replied, "That's enough for you, I think…"
"What?" Harry demanded in horror, reaching out for Sin's wrist, "No!"
"Yes," Sin replied, "no more until after you finish your little story."
"But, Sin," Harry whined softly, his tongue darting out every so often to try once more to get the blood off of his cheek, "I'm so hungry…"
"Well, on the bright side, you now have something to tide you over for a while," Sin replied with a smirk, "now continue on with your story."
Harry had to admit that his plot for some great retaliation didn't really turn out just as he'd planned; after all, what was vengeance worth when it nearly ended up killing you in the process. Besides that, the cosmic retribution of the entire wizarding world would surely fall upon his head if anyone ever discovered what he'd done…it would only be satisfying if there was nothing they could do about it.
And Harry wanted to make sure that day would come.
"Is there any particular reason you're here?"
Harry blinked his eyes open and found himself being watched by dark red eyes that seemed to glow in the dark of the room he was housed in.
"I read your letter," Harry replied, simply. Then he rolled his eyes and added, "I was impressed…or something…"
"You were angry," Voldemort corrected.
"I wanted to teach them a lesson," Harry replied, sitting up, "I'm not a toy damnit!"
"And so you came here, where you could be treated as the same toy but for a different purpose," Voldemort challenged, "there's no escape from the people who want to control you. There will always be people trying to toy with you, and by coming to me you haven't gotten yourself out of trouble, you've simply gotten yourself into a different sort of trouble."
"What if I told you that I came here to use you," Harry demanded, "what if I told you that I'm not going to be toyed with anymore, that everyone's going to be losing their favorite little Harry puppet?"
"Then you went about it in the wrong way," Voldemort replied, the shape of the red eyes changed slightly, and in a flash of sudden clarity of vision, Harry saw the man smirk.
"I think I'm going about it in the right way," Harry retorted, "I know what I'm doing."
"And what exactly is the 'little Harry puppet' doing?"
"Trying to cut his strings," Harry replied. "I'm trying, and that's the best I can do for the moment…"
"You have no plan at all?"
"None," Harry replied shrugging, "what would you do in my situation."
That drew a slight chuckle, and the reply: "I wouldn't be in your situation."
"Okay, suppose in some great cosmic joke you somehow ended up in my situation, hypothetically, what would you do?"
"I would find some way to get myself into a position of power and take control from there," Voldemort replied.
"I am in a position of power," Harry exclaimed, "well, sort of…"
"Then I suggest you learn to utilize that, and try not to do anything else stupid."
"It wasn't so stupid," Harry replied, "I'm getting somewhere now, aren't I?"
"Yes, but don't think you realize the potential danger you've put yourself in," Voldemort replied, "what do you think would happen if anyone discovered where you were?"
"I'm willing to take that risk."
"You'd be dead," Voldemort told him, firmly, "and then there would be a massive shift in power in the game and quite possibly lead to the wrong people winning. Would you like that? The people that treat you like a little toy running everything?"
"Then I'll just have to keep that from happening, won't I?" Harry demanded, "If I have such influence, I need to learn to utilize it and take…" Harry shut his mouth when he realized exactly what he was going to say.
"Yes," Voldemort replied, solemnly, standing up. Apparently, this particular conversation was coming to an end, "now you realize what little thought you've put into coming here."
"I—I," Harry breathed, shocked, his eyes glowing in the dark of the room, "I could…"
"And just remember," Voldemort's voice hissed, parseltongue, into his ear, "winner takes all."
Harry's hunger had been pushed to the back during this time, while he was trying to figure out exactly what he should do. It didn't take long for pangs of hunger and need to push its way back to the front of Harry's brain.
It hit him hard and fast, and it was all he could do to keep sense of the situation long enough to realize he needed to get back to Sin, because despite how fantastically good Voldemort's borrowed blood smelled there was also a sharp sense in Harry's body that told him it was wrong.
When Harry's last refuge from the hunger, sleep, was filled with dreams of endless amounts of blood flowing down his dry throat, Harry just barely managed to keep from jumping out of the window and walking ceaselessly until he'd reached Sin's home.
Harry still couldn't quite recall how he'd ended up in Sin's dark den in the middle of the night some indeterminate amount of time later waiting to die…
But somehow he'd managed it.
"And that's everything!" Harry finished proudly before turning to stare pleadingly at Sin. He was rewarded with another serving of his sire's blood.