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Heaven, Please Sing for Me a Song of Life

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Their first meeting is inconsequential in the grand scheme of things, to be frank – at least to him it is. It's Harry's job to please his clients and give them the attention that he's been paid for. Sure his newest client is classically handsome and has a presence that demands everyone to pay attention but before now, they have never mingled at all. Tom Riddle, mob boss and owner of the prestigious underground club and casino, The Chamber of Secrets, is a man that everyone knew not to trifle with. The man owns many clubs and with them came territory, money, drugs, favors and like Harry, prostitutes.  

In the three years Harry’s worked at The Chamber of Secrets, he’s seen the man many times but only quick glimpses before he’s called away, usually by a client. So he is quite surprised when Riddle pays for his services that evening.

Lucius Malfoy – Riddle’s right hand man and club manager - had given him the coldest and deadliest stare anyone could give and told him that Riddle was waiting for him.

Harry knew that no one said 'No' to Riddle, unless they had a death wish. To be called as Riddle's bed partner for the evening was a great honor with bragging rights among the prostitutes here at the club.

So with confidence that Harry rarely has, he saunters into the private VIP room where Riddle and his associates are conversing. Talks immediately cease once he enters but resume as he sits next to Riddle. He smiles charmingly and waits patiently for Riddle to finish with his business. Seeing the new wine bottle brought in by one of the waiters, Harry takes the initiative to pour a glass for his client and the rest of Riddle’s associates.

It wasn’t part of his job, but it never hurts to show everyone here that he has manners and is not just a fuck toy. And if it gets new people interested in him to be possible new clients, then all the better for Harry.

An arm snakes its way around his waist, long thin fingers lightly rubbing against his exposed abdomen from his crop top. Harry pays it no mind. It was quite common for his clients to get handsy at some point, especially if they hadn’t started having sex yet.

For a few hours, all Harry did was smile and pour wine and speak when spoken too.

Occasionally, Harry tunes out the conversation happening around him, mostly because it was about who owed money and had yet to pay, territory disputes and expansion and business talk. Sure some would be interested to learn everything they could, but Harry is just trying to stay out of trouble. Plus, it wasn't a topic he would've been interested anyway.

Then Riddle dismisses his associates and locks the door.

“It's just us now.” The older man says.

Harry smiles coyly. “What would you like me to do first, sir?”

Better to get it over with now.

He’s heard from some other prostitutes; who hadn’t been able to please Riddle like he wanted; tell how vicious the man could be if something wasn’t right and had been thrown out of his presence and nearly been forbidden to work in the club. Although, a few did have that fate bestowed on them, Harry did not want to be one of them.

Riddle smirks, sitting upon the couch and opening his legs. “I want to see that pretty mouth at work.”

“Of course, sir.”

Getting down on his knees, Harry demurely gazes upon Riddle’s face to find his blue eyes watching him. Never breaking eye contact, Harry nuzzles the clothed bulge that grows every second, before using his teeth to unzip and hands to unbutton the older man’s pants.

Harry can tell that Riddle is the sort of man who loves and craves power, no doubt in his sexual endeavors as well.

Like a lot of the clientele exclusively invited here to The Chamber of Secrets.

Harry knows these types, knows what gets them off and what makes them tick. Most want their bed partners weak and submissive, some may even love a bit a rebellion every now and then, so when their partner finally submits, they can savor the victory all the more. Riddle is no different from his other clients. He'll just have to make sure he doesn’t disappoint.

He doesn't keep Riddle waiting too long otherwise it'll affect his reputation in the club. For a few minutes, soft lips kiss along Riddle’s erection, with licks in between, before Harry takes Riddle’s cock into his mouth, breathing through his nose and relaxing his throat until he can no longer take anymore.

Riddle sits back against the couch, a picture of having no care in the world, though the tenseness of his shoulders give him away to Harry.

“Go on.” Riddle purrs, placing a hand into Harry's hair.

Harry moves his head up and down upon his client's cock, using every technique he’s learned to see what Riddle responds too. The room is mostly silent except for the heavy breathing and slurping from Harry and the near silent groans from Riddle.

The man's grip tightens upon his hair but Harry ignores it, keeping focus on his task. This continues until Riddle grabs Harry's head with both hands and erratically shoves himself as deep as he can go in Harry's mouth. The thrusts are harsh and fast, abusing Harry's mouth until Riddle comes, keeping his cock deep inside until Harry has swallowed every last drop, though some of it manages to leak out.

Then Harry is abruptly pulled off Riddle’s softening cock.

“You were quite good. I think this calls for a reward.” Riddle says. “Don't you think so?”

Harry wraps his arms around Riddle's neck and straddles his legs. “Anything you wish, sir.”

Riddle smirks as wandering hands cup his ass and squeeze. Harry smiles.

“Such a good whore you are. I do believe we're going to have a wonderful night together.”

Honestly, this isn’t the first time Harry's heard similar words spoken to him. Most of his clients – who are usually old married men – think they are some kind of sex god, when in reality they weren't overly great. Of course, there were others who had exceeded his expectations, but still, this night will be just like all his others, Harry’s sure.

No different from any other night.

“Strip for me.” Riddle orders.

Harry smiles flirtatiously and sensually slides off Riddle's lap, standing a few feet away, and makes eye contact with Riddle.

An invisible song that only Harry can hear plays in his head. Soon, the night will be over, then he can finish this as soon as possible. It's just another client, Harry repeats to himself in a mantra.

He can see Riddle’s eyes follow his hands as they slowly lift up his crop top. He lets the shirt fall to the floor and moves his hands over his bare chest to play with his nipples before they head down to his tight black pants. Easily slipping out of his shoes, Harry unbuttons and unzips his pants. He grabs the waist of his pants and boxers and slowly pushes them down until he is standing naked in front of his client.

Riddle’s cock - that had been left out of its confines - has hardened throughout the show until it was almost fully erect. Harry's cock is half hard and seems to grow every minute Riddle's eyes roam all over his body.

Riddle uses his right hand to make a 'come hither’ motion and Harry obeys.

Harry once again straddles Riddle’s lap and leans in for a kiss. Their lips meet in a slow sensual kiss, tongues massaging each other's. Riddle's tongue maps out Harry's mouth and Harry eagerly sucks on it as well. In no time at all, the kiss turns more heated before they break it for air, a string of saliva connecting to their lips.

Harry is secretly surprised that Riddle even allowed him to kiss him. From what he’s heard, the man has a firm ‘No kiss or Mark’s’ policy with the prostitutes. He was sure he would've been punished for assuming. It looked like Riddle was in the mood for indulgences.

He mentally shrugs. It’s really not important for further analyses.

Long thin fingers start exploring his body as Riddle kisses along his jawline and neck, leaving hickeys along the way. Harry moans loudly when Riddle finds a very sensitive spot just under the left side of his jaw. Harry can practically feel the man's smirk on his neck.

He feels the man's hands lightly roam his body, despite the feather like touch, Riddle’s hands leave a burning trail all over.

Harry is not idle as well, he unbuttons Riddle’s shirt, laying his own kisses upon the man's neck. Harry starts to suck on the man's neck when his hair is roughly pulled so he can see Riddle’s face.

“So eager. However, no marks on me. That's the rule.” Riddle tsks.

Harry nods in understanding. He forgot but he won’t make that mistake again. It's not worth making Riddle angry.

Riddle’s the boss and never has a lover, just flings or paid services. Harry has no right to act like a lover, he's just getting paid to get Riddle off. That's all.

Harry lets the man take most of the control, just as he wants, but Harry is not completely submissive either.

From Riddle’s chuckle and smirk, the man doesn’t mind it and relishes it.

They continue to kiss as Riddle brings out a bottle of lube and a condom from a nearby stand that is always stocked for these kinds of activities.

Riddle lathers his fingers generously and sticks one inside Harry, moving around roughly for a couple of minutes with another entering soon after. Harry moans in some pain as he’s being stretched, the burning sensation more prominent until Harry shouts in pain mixed with ecstasy as Riddle has found his prostate.

The bundle of nerves is pressed roughly and consistently, making Harry a moaning mess.

He barely notices Riddle’s chuckle, the man’s fingers leaving him feeling empty.

Harry whimpers, though before he knows it Riddle expertly puts on the condom and brings Harry down roughly upon his shaft.  The pain is a little unbearable but Harry’s glad for the small reprieve to get used to Riddle’s cock.

Harry takes a few deep breaths until he feels that the pain won’t be too much.

He shifts his hips a bit and Riddle takes that as his cue to move. He's a little surprised Riddle had let him get used to his cock. But, the though quickly disappears as Riddle moves.

The pain recedes and all that is left is the pleasure.

They move wildly, fast and hard. Just two people getting pleasure from each other. 

That’s all it is.

Then he’ll move on to the next client.   

They move in sync, each reaching the height of pleasure until it explodes, hot and scorching, yet relieving at the same time. Both still locked intimately like two lovers, until Harry removes himself from Riddle's lap. 

After cleaning himself with some tissue, Harry quickly yet carefully puts his clothes back on. Riddle watches him, but Harry pays it no mind until he's finished dressing.

Smiling, "Thank you for your patronage. I hope you will call on me again soon."

Riddle just smirks and Harry takes that as his cue to leave.

The burning of Riddle's gaze follows him even after he is long gone from the room.

Chapter Text

It’s been four weeks since Harry was called by Riddle.

Not that he’s keeping track or anything, because He doesn't really care all that much, as he's too busy with his other clients to really think about Riddle. But when alone with his thoughts, Harry can't help but fantasize about that night. It gets him hot and bothered but he does his best to ignore it, unless it helps him please his next customer better. They do love a willing and eager participant.

It is definitely one of his better nights and Harry doesn't mind a repeat of it. If he's ever called again.

However, Harry knows that Riddle has other favorite prostitutes that he pays for the night that the chances of him calling for Harry again anytime soon are slim.

Seeing the man around isn't hard, Riddle's always here for business and sometimes pleasure with his followers. In fact, he saw Riddle come nearly twenty minutes before he escorted his current client to his private room. He may have imagined it but for a moment he felt as if Riddle's eyes had been looking at him.

Harry quietly snorts to himself, careful to not let the man laying next to him hear.

One night as Riddle’s bed partner and he can't stop thinking of the man. He's starting to sound like Lavender and the others who are always trying to gain Riddle’s or his associates’ attention.

As Harry lays in the sweaty arms and remnants of drying cum of his latest client, he can't help but dream of a day where he will no longer be here in this position. It's a pipe dream but it's the only thing Harry has to keep him motivated to one day leave this place and be free.

A sloppy kiss is placed on his shoulder, taking his attention away from his thoughts. Harry turns to see his client giving him a heated gaze.

“You were quite amazing. I think I'll call on you again next time I come. You’re definitely one of the better prostitutes I’ve had the pleasure to fuck.” The man says.

Harry smiles and winks. “I look forward to it.”

A lie, of course.

“You were quite good yourself as well. I do hope you'll call on me again.”

The fat sweaty pig could go fuck someone else for all he cared. Unfortunately, he needed the money, so the more customers, the more money he earns.

Harry leaves the bed to head to the bathroom and clean himself up. He wonders how long of a break he'll have before his next customer, perhaps it would be alright to take a shower this time? Harry shrugs. He decides to just take a quick one.

By the time he is clean and dressed - with spare clothes he always keeps near by - the room is void of anybody in it. He leaves the room as it is, knowing that he'll be bringing more people in the room for the rest of the night. Just a normal business day for him.

With his shoes on, Harry leaves the private room and heads down into the large and private gambling floor where there is sure to be another customer for him to seduce. He can feel the gaze of both men and women lust after him as he saunters through the casino floor. 

Maybe he should go downstairs to the dance club and find some clients there?

“Harry!”

He turns to see Lavender – a fellow prostitute – hurrying to him.

“Hello Lavender.” He greets.

She giggles. “I'm glad I caught you just in time! Mr. Riddle and his guests are going to be in need of some entertainment right now. I've already have Padma, Parvati, Justin, and Terry ready to go. We just need one more person! And you’re one of the best!”

Harry raises an eyebrow.

“What kind of entertainment are we taking about? A large orgy? Or more of karaoke?” Harry jokes. 

“Nothing like that. Lucius told us we’ll just be there to serve drinks and keep the men and women in good spirits! Like Hosts! We’ll get paid for our time as well.” Lavender winks. “And if we get paid for more, than there's nothing wrong with that!”

"Really?" Harry says disbelieving. "Just hosts tonight? Didn't think we would ever do that here."

"So are you coming?" Lavender pouts.

Harry sighs. Lavender and her batting eyelashes and doe like eyes are practically begging him to come.

Well, he’s still getting paid, that’s always a plus in Harry’s book.

“Fine. Fine. I'm coming.”

“Yay!” Lavender squeals. “It'll be so much fun! I hope Mr. Riddle notices me! I especially had my hair and make up done to be eye catching!”

“Maybe.” Harry shrugs. “Anyway lead the way.”

Lavender giggles, blonde curls bouncing as they head upstairs to the balconies where the Black Jack tables are, with the rest of their group following. Cigarette smoke is heavy near the table and a bit irritating, but Harry does his best to ignore it. he;s fine with smoking but the smell has always irritated him. Riddle and a few other men and women, no doubt more associates of Riddle’s as well, are all at the table, throwing chips into the pot.

An older portly man notices them first and jovially exclaims, “Ah! Looks like we are getting some lovely company among us! Come, come!”

The girls giggle and flutter their eyelashes while the boys just smile charmingly.

Harry gazes up and happens to meet Riddle’s blue eyes. They stare for a second longer before Riddle subtly gestures his head to the empty seat next to him. Not wanting to just keep standing or displease Riddle, Harry saunters over, secretly loving the way the man's eyes never leave his form, a devilish smirk upon Riddle’s face.

“Hello again, sir.” Harry coos, sliding up close, legs touching, and bodies practically glued to each other. “It's been a few weeks since we last saw each other.”

“Indeed, it has.” Riddle smirks.

“Why don’t we all introduce ourselves? If that’s alright with you Mr. Riddle.” The portly man nervously asks.

Riddle gives a small nod and Lavender, not surprisingly, introduces herself first.

“Lavender Brown.” She says fluttering her eyelashes.

The others and Harry have always decided to never divulge their last names to their customers or strangers. It was Lavender’s choice to divulge her full name.

“Terry.”

“Justin.”

“Padma.”

“I'm Parvati.”

The twins giggle.

Harry smiles. “Harry.”

Only Riddle and exclusive members of management know their personal information.

“Nice to meet you all. I'm Horace Slughorn, a chemistry professor to a boarding school up in Scotland. I actually knew Mr. Riddle when he was just a student attending. A brilliant student, I must say! I always new he was destined for great things!” The portly man – Slughorn – brags. “Look at him now! Owner of one of the most prestigious clubs in all of Great Britain!”

Riddle smiles with too much sharp teeth, making a few of them, Slughorn included, squirm a little in their seats. “You flatter me, Horace.”

Slughorn clears his throat. “Why don't I introduce our other members!” Gesturing to the man next to him, who greatly resembled a lion and with a deep scowl, Slughorn happily introduces the man as Rufus Scrimanger.

“He's running for Mayor this year! One of the best officers in the field! The city will surely be in good hands!” Slughorn boasts. “Having the chief of police as mayor would be a great benefit for many people! You have my vote, my friend! Just don’t forget us when you take office!” Slughorn laughs jovially.

Padma and Parvati giggle and as they sit on either side of Scrimgeour, moving closer to him, and their hands on his chest and flirtatious smiles upon their faces.

“Mayor? How wonderful!” Padma squeals.

Parvati nods in agreement. “How strong! I’m sure many people will feel safe with you in office!”

Harry gives a little smirk, ego stroking is one of the twins' best tactics to get their potential clients to relax and divulge information should they ever need it.

Scrimgeour is practically radiating smugness and says, “Of course. London will be safer under my care than the other candidates. With elections only a few days away, I’ll be a definite shoe in. fudge has had his time, but the bloody fool doesn't know how to run a city, let alone tie his own shoes. It's time for a new man in charge and that would be me.”

Harry quietly snorts, with only Riddle smirking in response.

What an arrogant prick.

And honestly, he doubts the man hasn’t picked up that the twins and the rest of them are prostitutes. The casino floor of The Chamber of Secrets is more exclusive than the already "invitation only" exclusive dance club on the first floor of the building. This floor is where a lot of shady deals happen.

Either the guy is sniffing out the Underworld or Scrimgeour is as crooked as they come. 

The dealer brings them back to the game when Rodolphus, one of Riddle’s inner circle, places a few more chips into the pot. Harry subconsciously moves closer to see Riddle's cards and startles when the man places them down and brings Harry's body into his lap.

Harry gazes up in surprise only to receive a smirk and wink from Riddle. Harry’s brain takes a few seconds to load what has just happened before he goes back to paying attention to the game. That was completely unexpected. He and Riddle were barely in the acquaintance stage and sitting in someone’s lap without the pretense of pleasing his clients, seems a little intimate to Harry. Maybe it's a sign that Riddle will want him later in the night? It's not like he can ask now, Harry would rather not cause a scene and make a small hill a mountain of a problem.

Harry isn’t the only one be surprised with Riddle’s action.

A few of the others stare in surprise, mostly because Riddle never lets any of the prostitutes sit in his lap for leisure, before they go back to their game as Riddle bets double the amount.

Conversation is light, mostly done by Slughorn; who constantly brags about all the famous people he knows. 

And his favorite sweet of crystallized pineapple.

Harry can see Terry focus on the game, his analytical mind taking in every detail, while the girls quietly flirt with the men next to them and Justin staring off into space.

Harry is more focused than the rest of the prostitutes – except Terry – but doesn't know the rules of the game. In the end, Riddle somehow manages to win the entire pot. The others grumbling about how much money they’ve lost that night.

“It seems that you’re my lucky charm Harry.” Riddle playfully says, hugging Harry close. “I might have to have you be my side while I play.”

Harry laughs and winks. “Sounds like fun.”

"I don't think I'll want to ever let you go." Riddle whispers in his ear.

It sends a shiver down his spine, whether in excitement, anxiety, or foreboding, Harry doesn't know.

He pushes the feeling to the back of his mind.

It doesn't matter anyway.

Chapter Text

"I've gotten you a present."

Harry hums and carefully takes the gift that Rabastan Lestrange has given him. Rabastan is one of his regulars that pays for him every other day. 

Opening the small box, Harry finds a golden pocket watch with a small design etched onto the sides. 

"A pocket watch?"

"Yes."

After a glance, he sets the watch back into its box. "Bastan, this... this is such a nice gift, but I don't really deserve it or need it."

Rabastan clears his throat, a small blush upon his face and responds, "Well, I thought you deserved something nice. Especially since you work in a place like this. I know you think you don't deserve it," he says quietly, "But I want you to have it. Just something to show how much I care for you."

Harry says nothing, just quietly traces the engravings.

It's unfortunate that Rabastan has some kind of feelings for him, it would just cause trouble for the both of them later. Rabastan is handsome, kind, rich and would have gladly paid off Harry's debt if it meant to gain his feelings, but Harry feels nothing for the man. He's definitely amazing at sex, but that's just what it is. Sex. There's no passion, no chemistry between them and Harry has the decency to not lead Rabastan on when the man could definitely do way better than a meager indebted prostitute. 

Harry sets the gift onto the couch next to him.

Perhaps after awhile, he'll pawn it off to get some cash for his debt or just give it it Dobby, the financial assistant, to just automatically count it as a payment. It seems fucked up that he would even think of casually pawning of the expensive gift he received from an outsider's point of view, but life was fucked up in general. If it wasn't, Harry's parents wouldn't have died, he wouldn't have been sent to the Dursleys, and he definitely wouldn't have been sold off like cattle.

But Rabastan doesn't have to know anything about the fate of his gift.

"Thank you Bastan." Harry smiles.

Rabastan is definitely one of his better clients, who actually treats him like a human being and not just a fuck toy. Harry's even gotten a few gifts from the man – few clothes and trinkets, which was nice. Even the two of them going to dinner, occasionally, with sex always right after.

Harry wonders if it'll be one if those dinner then sex nights or if they'll get right to it once they’re alone.

Rabastan smiles pleased. "Mr. Riddle will be here shortly to discuss something with me, then we’ll have plenty of time to enjoy the night after he dismisses me.”

They are interrupted when said man walks in, eyeing them both intently as he sits across from them, immediately connecting the dots.

Harry internally thinks how ironic it is to be at another private meeting only to be on opposite seat with Riddle across from him.

 

Riddle’s face is stone cold. It's something that Harry is slightly surprised to see because Riddle usually showed some manner of expression with him present before. He also notices that Riddle seems more…tense and violent than usual. The man is emitting a deadly aura that make many, including him, fearful and Harry can tell that Riddle is practically ready for murder.

“Rasbastan.”

The way Riddle coldly says the other's name even has Harry alert and tense.

“I'm afraid that your appointment will have to be cancelled. I need you, Rodolphus and Barty to go to the Warehouse in Gryffindor District to check on our goods. Scrimgeour was here for a reason last time and I want double security everywhere. And find out if you can find more clues about who any snitches could be as well.” Riddle orders. “I won't have any cops snooping around where they don't belong.”

Rabastan is definitely put out with the turn of events but is quick to hide his disappointment. “Of course, sir. We’ll go right away.”

Riddle sits back against his chair, a pleased smirk upon his face. “Excellent.”

Rabastan gets up and Harry follows knowing that he won’t be needed here. Rabastan is just about to open the door when Riddle says, “Oh. Rabastan. Make sure to pay for the time Harry was supposed to be with you and add the rest of the night to your bill.”

“Sir?” Rabastan asks confused.

Riddle smiles sharply. “Since you'll be too busy to appreciate Harry, I'll being the one to take over your appointment.”

Harry says nothing and watches with a face of disinterest. Sure, he seen a few of his customers argue over who gets to fuck him first but he's never been blatantly bought like this. Harry really has no words for what is happening at the moment, let alone wrap his mind around it.

It’s probably because Harry is conveniently here and Riddle won’t have to call on some other prostitute for some services.

Rabastan's hands are clenching at his sides but all three of them know that he won’t don't dare go against Mr. Riddle’s order.

“Very well, sir. Is that all?” Rabastan asks tersely.

Riddle waves him off and Harry moves towards Riddle as Rabastan closes the door behind him.

“Hello, sir.” Harry smiles.

Riddle picks up the phone in the VIP room and orders a bottle of scotch.

Colin comes in a few minutes later, gives Harry a shy smile then leaves the room. Harry smiles amused at Colin’s flustered face every time he sees Harry with a client. Poor boy is too pure to be working in a shady club like this, even if it's to pay for his University tuition and help his family out.

“Cigarette?”

Harry is brought out of his thoughts when a pack of cigarettes are in his line of vision. He takes one and leans towards Riddle who lights up both their cigarettes at the same time with his lighter.

Harry isn't much of a smoker, but he does occasionally inhale the toxic chemicals if he's offered or if he's really stressed. The nicotine definitely does its job of making Harry relax. The two sit in compatible silence.

An arm moves to wrap around his shoulder, Harry gives a quick glance to the hand now lightly playing with the collar of his tank top before looking up towards Riddle.

Riddle takes a drag before blowing out a huge cloud of smoke. His blue eyes never leave Harry's face, taking in every detail.

“You’re very handsome, you know.”

A few seconds of silence pass.

“Thank you.”

Harry is a bit surprised with the turn of the conversation has gone.

“Tell me, how did you even start working here in my club?” Riddle asks.

Ah.

Harry understands now. Riddle is fishing for information about him using light conversation to get it. Most of the time when clients start asking for personal information, Harry manages to always subtly turn the conversation into a new direction, however, Riddle owns the club and more than likely knows something about Harry’s past anyway.

No point in hiding it.

He takes another drag before blowing the smoke out and looks away to stare at the wall in front of him.

“I didn’t volunteer to work here. Trust me, being a prostitute was never a job career that crossed my mind. I was forced here by my Uncle.” Harry says.

Riddle doesn’t say anything, though Harry can feel the gaze burning onto his face and silently commanding him to continue.

Harry sighs. He really doesn’t want to talk about it.

“My Aunt and Uncle loved everything normal and perfect and with me left on their doorstep after my parents' untimely deaths, they abhorred me for ‘ruining’ their perfect family.” Harry says. “My relatives were so obsessed with being normal, yet ironically, they did everything they could to be better than their neighbors. My Uncle started borrowing money – a lot of money – from your gang to pay for their lavish lifestyle and spoiling my cousin, while completely ignoring me. And days just before I turned eighteen, my uncle exchanged me to take on the debt with him and his family leaving scot free. That was three years ago.”

"Hm."

Riddle doesn’t say anything and Harry really doesn't mind. It's nice that he's not getting any pity or fake sympathy from people who could never understand.

Harry is so lost in thoughts that he doesn’t notice until Riddle’s lips are near his right ear, making Harry nearly jump out of his seat. Green eyes turn to the man next to him and widen in surprise with how close they are. Their lips are barely a few centimeters away and Harry can’t help but briefly flicker his eyes down to Riddle’s lips for only a second.

However, it seems that Riddle had caught the movement.

“You really are quite handsome.” Riddle says softly. “How cruel Fate has been to you, yet you continue to live and endure. How intriguing.”

Their eyes never leave each other. Harry doesn’t know if it’s him or Riddle that is moving closer or maybe it’s both of them. The air is heavy with something. It’s making Harry a bit dizzy. One part of him is afraid. Afraid about what is happening with him, but the other part is thrilled - excited - at the new events that have happened. 

This is completely different then their other meetings, even compared to the times spent with his other clients.

Harry doesn't know if he really wants guess what that look in Riddle’s eyes is, or if he should even pursue whatever is beginning to happen between them.

If he does, it could be disastrous for both of them. Him especially.

There’s Lust for sure. Intrigue. Understanding. Others that can’t be named.

And yet…

 

Their lips meet in a kiss.

-

Things have started moving fast. It wasn’t like the first time they slept together, Harry thinks. To him, it feels more than just a night of sex between the client and servicer, almost more passionate and urgent. As if they are trying to get the other to get the other to break first from the intensity. Which probably isn’t too far from the truth.

Riddle easily gets Harry’s tank top off in record time.  

Harry loosens the man’s tie and remembers Riddle’s rule of no marks but that doesn’t stop him from kissing all over the man’s neck and face.

Riddle doesn’t even seem to mind, too busy undressing Harry and reciprocating the kisses.

It’s burning between them. This passion between them was going to engulf them, burning, burning and burning until they’d fizzle out into ashes. It’s suffocating and exhilarating at the same time. Harry can’t seem to keep up with it yet somehow barely manages it.

Riddle’s clothes soon follow to the floor with Harry’s. Both naked and now their bodies rubbing and grinding against each other in delicious friction.

“Oh God.” Harry moans out. “Ah. Ah.”

The touches, licks, and kisses burn pleasurably, feeling like hours before Harry even realizes they’re intimately locked together.

Green clashes with blue as they ride out the moment. Harry looks up to the ceiling, vision glassy, almost as if he is searching for something or someone to pray to. The moment feels to dream like. Harry doesn't want it to end. 

They last as long as they can until it becomes unbearable any longer. 

Harry screams, a lone tear quietly tracking down his face, before the evidence of it ever being there disappears. 

 

Reality sets back in.

-

Harry starts noticing little things about Riddle every time they are together. Which is quite often these days. After that night, Riddle must have seen something that was interesting,  becuase he’s keeping Harry close, but he’s not sure.  

“What would you like to drink?” Riddle asks, their bodies intimately close to each other and a scotch already in his hand.

It's probably the man's favorite.

Harry doesn't really like to drink while on the job, mostly because it'll dampen his senses and everyone knows that the life if a prostitute is dangerous, even if they work inside a building and not the streets.

Harry shakes his head. “Just water, please. I don't like drinking very much.”

Riddle just smirks. “Oh? Not even when a Patron is offering to buy?”

Harry grimaces. “Well, I don't like to drink too much because I know the dangers of have disoriented senses for people like me. We're already at risk with all the kinds of people that come into the bar.”

Riddle raises an eyebrow. “Oh? Do explain.”

Harry rolls his eyes. He’s pretty sure Riddle knows what kind of people enter his establishment.

“I’m pretty sure you know what kind of people enter here. Even if they pose no threat to you and your men, it doesn’t mean us prostitutes aren’t safe from them. Some clients are a little more sadistic than others, but all we can do is be prepared for any worst case scenarios.”

Tom hums and buries his face into Harry’s neck, moving until his lips are just a breaths away from his ear.

“I wouldn’t let anyone hurt you. Should they, just tell me and they’ll suffer a fate worse than death.” Riddle says seriously. “No one touches what is mine.”

It a promise that rings through Harry’s mind for the rest of the night. 

 

He doesn’t know if he should be worried or not.

Chapter Text

It's like any other night at the club when Harry notices something out of the ordinary for once. Nothing too noticeable unless one looks for it, but spotting  someone new walking around the casino floor is a nice little diversion to the nightly routines Harry has to deal with everyday. It's not too unusual, but not common either to see someone new. In fact, Harry likes to play a guessing game of what the new person does during the day, habits, and why they were in the club in the first place. It definitely passed the time on nights Harry wasn't getting too many customers.

So of course, Harry is mildly curious about every new face he sees. 

The Chamber of Secrets is a special invitation only club.

It isn’t particularly common for a newbie to gain an invitation here. They had to impress Mr. Riddle or one of his inner circle a great deal before they could have access to the more private and exclusive floors. 

Even when a person gains an invitation to The Chamber of Secrets, the dance club, the invitation must have a special symbol for them to go up to the second and higher floors of the building.

It's where most of the shady deals happen and/or paying for some nightly entertainment.

After watching the young man for a few moments, Harry can tell he isn’t used to this kind of scene. 

The young man is tall, red hair, freckles, gangly and if Harry had to take a guess, near his own age as well. The way his blue eyes constantly shift around, his subtle hand movements going over his belt, though it is covered by a jacket, give away his nervousness to anyone paying the slightest attention.

Harry wouldn’t be surprised if the guy has a hidden gun. That was pretty common here.

He watches the red head sit down at the bar, glance around and take a quick swig of his drink the bartender gives him. Harry decides that it wouldn't hurt to figure out who the newbie was, maybe even manage to seduce him into being a new patron.

Sauntering over, Harry sits close to the man, startling the other in the process, blinking in dumbfounded surprise. The red head may not be a virgin in sex, but he’s definitely ‘fresh meat’ that Harry has no doubt many have noticed, and Harry wants to be the first to nab him.

Harry is willing to fix that.

“Hello.” Harry says in a sultry voice.

“Er, uh, Hello.” The red head answers awkwardly.

He’s clearly nervous, something that any of the veteran patrons in the club would pick up instantly and exploit. Harry feels a little sympathy for the guy. He'll start off gentle.

“I’ve never seen you here before? First time?” Harry asks, sitting down on the stool next to the other.

Harry watches closely as the red head nervously gulps and hastily looks around. “Er, yeah, something like that. Can’t believe I’m actually here.” He sheepishly laughs. “It’s pretty exclusive, you know.”

With an ice breaker like that it’s pretty obvious the guy is new, but Harry won’t tell the guy that. He doesn’t want to scare him away.

His reaction is pretty interesting though. Harry’s met many, many people here and when meeting a new person, many of them tend to brag about how they managed to receive a special invitation, who they know and so on. Not this guy, he's cautious. Cautious enough for Harry to notice how he sightly hesitates before speaking.

The red head is nervous but he still has a look of determination and a focused glint in his eyes. And something naive and pure as well, not like the rest of them in this building.

It's a bit refreshing for Harry, who has been stuck in the dark with the worst of what humanity can be.  

Harry smiles flirtatiously, a hand upon the other’s leg. He'll slowly ease up his charms so as not to scare the red head away. Unless he signals differently.

“It is pretty exclusive. I don't see too many people enter this or any upper floors pretty often." Harry says. "Since your new here, how about I show you a good time? I’ll make it worth your while.”

“Um, no thanks. I, uh, don’t swing that way. I also have a girlfriend.” The red head nervously scratches his neck and moves Harry’s hand from his leg to the bar counter not unkindly.

He's a little disappointed, but honestly, this guy is too interesting for Harry to be miffed that the new guy wouldn't become another customer for him now or in the future.

Harry smiles. "No worries mate. Can't get them all." His face turns serious, gaining the red head's attention. “Look, you’re definitely a new face here and if you’re not careful, these men and women here will eat you alive. Be careful of who you offend.”

The red head nods solemnly, not taking his advice for granted.

The red head clears his throat. “Could you tell me all about the people here in the club? Information on Mr. Riddle too? Anything and everything would be helpful.”

Harry frowns. “That’s oddly specific.”

“Just curious is all.” the red head says, clearing his throat. "Like you said, wouldn't want to offend anyone here, right?"

Harry’s eyes narrow subtly, hopefully too quick for the other to notice before smiling. “How did you say you received an invitation again? I seem to have forgotten.”

“A friend.”

Not suspicious at all, Harry thinks sarcastically.

“Really!?” Harry smiles widely. “Which friend? I know quite a lot of people. Maybe we know the same person!”

Sure he was laying it on a bit thick, but Harry’s dealt with all kinds of shady people since he was forced to work here. And if he wants information, sometimes playing the dumb but naive prostitute works well when he wants information on something. 

“Oh, um, no one special,” The red head stutters. “Pretty sure you wouldn’t have heard of him.”

“Come on mate! We're practically friends already since I'm the only person you know so far." Harry playfully pats the other's back.

The red head’s gaze darts all around him, possibly looking for something or someone.

“It’s, uh, his name i-is, um, Du….Dun... Dung! Fletcher Dung!”

Harry blinks in slight surprise. What kind of name is Fletcher Dung? Sounds like it belongs in the loo.

Harry snorts at the name. "Poor sod got stuck with an unfortunate name."

The red head laughs. "Yeah, don't I know it."

“Sorry though, never heard of him.” Harry says nonchalantly. “Is he, you know, part of Mr. Riddle’s group?”

The red head gulps and tries to smile. “Not particularly. More like an….acquaintance? I met him through an acquaintance of a friend."

Harry hums in thought, and raises an eyebrow in disbelief. This guy's story has more holes in it than Swiss cheese. Harry turns to the bartender, ordering a shot, and quickly knocking it back before glaring at the red head next to him.

“Who are you really? And don’t lie.” Harry firmly questions, eyes narrowed.

The red scratches his head nervously and give a very fake laugh. “I have no idea what you’re talking about!? I’m just like all the other patrons!”

What a load of bull.

Harry smiles, quickly grabs the red head’s wrist and drags him to a small private lounge room. No one would really pay too much attention to him. The other patrons are occupied with other things than worrying about a single prostitute.

"Hey! Wait! Where are we going?"

Locking the door to his room, Harry gestures for the other to sit.

The red head looks at him a little warily but slowly sits down on the messy bed, though he does eye the room suspiciously and places his hand near his belt where Harry has no doubt a gun is hidden.

Harry crosses his arms, face stern and unyielding. “Alright, enough with the lies. Tell me who you really are and what you’re doing here.” Harry snaps.

He doesn't know why he's so invested with finding out the red head's secrets, but Harry's already come this far. In fact, he should throw the  red head out of his room and forget about the whole thing. Because if there is one thing Harry has learned since working here, once he's invested in something, the Potter Luck has a knack for coming back to bite him in the ass for it. But he's as stubborn as can be and Harry knows he'll regret it later. 

The red head glares. “I have nothing to say to you and I told you, I’m just a regular patron.”

“Oh yeah? Well maybe you’d like me to call Riddle and then he and his men can deal with you.” Harry threatens. Hopefully, the red head won't call his bluff, because honestly, even though he is apathetic to pretty much everything since he was forced to work here, Harry still deep down doesn't want someone like this red head, who has hope and life, to succumb to the darkness here.

Apparently, his bluff is effective because the red head pales considerably, making his freckles stand out even more.

“Okay,” he says in defeat. “But please don’t say anything. It would be dangerous for me and probably you too."

Harry nods.

The red head sighs and reluctantly says, "I’m an undercover cop and I was assigned to scope this place out and find any incriminating evidence for certain people as well.”

Well, fuck.

The Potter Luck strikes again. He shouldn't listened to his own advice to stay out of it. No turning back now.

“You’re lucky that Mr. Riddle isn’t in the club right now. He has a knack for finding coppers like you. You seem like an intelligent bloke, so I’m warning you to leave now and don’t come back, unless you want to go back home to your girlfriend in a body bag.” Harry glares.

“Wh-what?”

“Look, I honestly don’t care about why you’re here. Hell, I normally don’t meddle into Mr. Riddle's affairs but I’m feeling unusually generous today.” Harry huffs. “Get out and don’t come back, or else.”

The red head takes a deep breath and slowly exhales.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that. It’s my job to bring justice to those who commit crimes.”

Harry sneers in response.

How naïve.

Harry is secretly envious of the naivety the red head has.

“Maybe in an ideal world, but you’re now in the snake pit. There’s only darkness and the ugliness of humanity here in the Underworld. These men and women here have money to blow and connections to cover their tracks. There’s no justice that’ll prevail here. Leave before it’s too late. Go rescue kittens from trees and all that.” Harry says harshly, hoping to get his point across.

“I’m pretty sure that’s part of a firefighter’s job description.” The red head jokes nervously.

Harry snorts lightly. “Fine. You got me there. But seriously, you need to leave and never come back. This is the last time I’ll tell you.”

Green and blue clash before Harry decides that he’s given the red head a warning and now the decision is up to the other. Harry’s not willing to get involved. He can’t risk anything, not when he has a debt to fulfill and a goal to achieve.

Harry turns to leave.

“Wait! You can help me! Like my informer or something!” the red head blurts out. “If you do, I’ll help you get out of this place!”

Harry laughs sardonically. “You’re a bit naïve for a cop. Unfortunately, I won’t get involved and even if I was an informer, I’d be too expensive for the likes of you. Anyway I told you before, it’d be impossible to arrest anyone here. They’d easily cover their tracks.” Harry sighs. “And as for me, I’m unfortunately stuck here until a debt has been paid.”

The red head stands up, an earnest look on his face.

“Surely there’s something we could do! You’d be a valuable ally to have!”

Harry snorts and turns to leave.

“I’ve already warned you. Whether you follow it or not is up to you. Choose wisely.” Harry says before he exits the room.

Hopefully, the red head will make the correct decision.


“So sorry to interrupt your..riveting conversation gentlemen, but I need your assistance, my dear Harry.” Riddles buts in as Harry is seducing one of the patrons at the bar.

The man clearly isn’t sorry but Harry won’t call him out on it.

Though he is a bit miffed by the interruption of what was going to be his next client. Prostitution may not be a pure and elegant job, but Harry still has to earn money to make a living! Clearly his now former intended client is a little annoyed as well, but Riddle hardly cares, thus grabbing Harry’s wrist and dragging him off before the other man can get a word in otherwise.

Riddle brings Harry flush to his side, an arm around his waist, as Harry thinks they are heading to another private VIP lounge for harry to help with Riddle's needs. That doesn’t happen, in fact, it seems Riddle has no real destination in mind, except to apparently walk around his club with Harry as his eye candy for the night, and mingle with the guests.

It’s a bit strange but Harry decides to just go with the flow.

For the next fifteen  minutes, Harry smiles politely while Riddle greets acquaintances, not oblivious to the many lustful gazes sent his way. It's a normal routine, so of course, when Riddle asks a question that he had not been expecting at all, well, Harry's thrown out of the loop for just a moment.

“Harry, what do you see?” Riddle asks.

“What do you mean, sir?”

Because that was a pretty vague question, if anyone was to ask Harry's opinion.

“The atmosphere, the people, anything. I’d like to hear your thoughts. And I’d like honesty, please.” Riddle smiles pleasantly.

Harry contemplates for a moment. Well, if Riddle really wanted honesty, hopefully, Harry won't upset the man too much. And he secretly hopes its not a type of interrogation about the red head he had been seen with earlier that night. 

“Well, the clientele are very exclusive, the club is elegant and... selective. Everybody who's anybody wants to be able to at least get a special invitation for just the first floor, never mind the rest of the rest of the club.” Harry starts, then hesitates, glancing to the man to see his mood.

Riddle doesn't look angry or anything, mostly intrigued and he had wanted honesty, so that’s what Harry will give him. Riddle just nods for him to continue, so Harry he does.

“However, it’s suffocating as well. The darkness, the people, the atmosphere, the greed, sometimes, I think it would be better if I didn’t have to live like this and that it would be better to join my parents in death. Like, why am I still putting up with this? Why do I still have hope that someday i'll be able to escape this living? Life is not a fairy tale and I'll never have a happy ending.” Harry says bitterly.

Riddle’s arm grips tighter, pulling Harry closer.  

“But I’m too stubborn to give up. One day, I know I’ll be free of this place and really live.” Harry breathes out and gazes up to Riddle. “Until then, I just have to keep going.”

For just a moment, it is almost of they are the only two people in the world that matter.

“Good,” Riddle said, “I’d hate to see my newest interest have such sullying and depressing thoughts.”

They continue to walk in silence, but somehow seem a little more intimate with each other.

"And I'm glad you told me your real thoughts Harry." Riddle says after awhile. "After all, I'm finding myself more intrigued every minute I spend with you. I'd hate to lose you."

Harry just smiles and goes back to gazing back at his surroundings. His life had changed since Riddle had entered his life, and he'd enjoy Riddle's attention while it was still on him.

Though he knew it wouldn't be forever.

Chapter Text

Weeks pass in a blur with most of his nights and time spent in Riddle's company. Riddle is quite insatiable and often, they are having quickies in broom closets, bathroom stalls, his designated room, even once in Riddle's car when he had taken Harry out. Even though, Harry knows he shouldn't be gaining any feelings or having favorites with customers, he can't help but compare how Riddle is the perfect boyfriend: rich, intelligent, handsome, charismatic, and fantastic in bed. 

In the end, all good things must come to a stop. It's nothing drastic, like being in a life or death situation, having his life flashing before his eyes that reminds him of his "status". It happens on a normal night that Harry remembers that he isn't like normal people. He doesn't have a normal job, friends or family. He’s an orphan whose blood relatives hated him and forced him to pay off their huge debt. He's a prostitute that spreads his legs for whoever pays him.

Incidentally, he's only (once again) reminded of this fact when he sees one of his uncle's rich clients at the poker table. Memories of his Uncle and Aunt locking him away in his room, not wanting him to disfigure their perfect family.

Then as he got older and was ordered to be a servant. The memories of all the times his relatives had invited the Mason’s over. Mr. Mason’s eyes that seemed to linger on him longer and longer every time he was over and as Harry grew older.

Being exchanged so his relatives could get rid of him and clear their debt. It all starts flashing before his eyes.

A light touch upon his face startles him completely.

“I seem to have been boring you with my talk if your mind has wandered.” Riddle says, not quite concerned.

Harry mentally shakes his depressing thoughts. He lost focus! He can’t let that happen again. One slip up could cost him the benefits and privileges he gets from being Riddle's current bed partner. He just hadn’t thought he’d see someone from his past here.

Harry blushes and coughs. “Er, sorry. It wasn’t intentional. I assure you.”

Riddle tilts his head in contemplation, no doubt picking up that something had disturbed Harry as much as it did. As much as Harry admires Riddle's exceptional qualities, his ability to pick up the smallest nuances of a person's countenance is not something he wants to deal with right now.

“What has preoccupied your mind?” Riddle asks softly, a frown upon his handsome face. “Are you feeling unwell?”

How amusing, Harry thinks. Riddle concerned for him is quite laughable.

“Nothing,” he shrugs. “Just someone I know. It’s not important.”

Riddle lips tighten, though Harry doesn’t understand why Riddle would even have the expression that he does on his face.

“Not a boyfriend, I hope.”

Harry rolls his eyes, amusement clearly seen. “Please. Like I would even be able to have a boyfriend with my ‘job’.” Harry says, making air quotes. “They’d just treat me like crap. I don’t need that in my life.” Harry sighs. "Anyway, I haven't had a boyfriend since I was in my fourth year of boarding school."

Harry is amused to see a brief scowl upon Riddle's face, though he hides it quickly after, a disinterest appearing soon after. "Oh? That's quite young for anyone to be dating. What happened to him? Couldn't kiss you correctly?" 

Harry chuckles. "No, nothing like that. In fact, we had never even kissed or held hands."

Riddle gazes in disbelief. "What was he doing? Waiting for marriage before he even kissed you?"

Harry snorts in amusement. "Yes, he was pure and good, but it was mostly because he was older than me by three years and honestly, he probably didn't even think we were 'dating' as well."

"How could he not know?"

Harry sighs, not really wanting to talk about his embarrassing fourth year, but knowing he had to finish because he opened that can of worms. 

"It was because in my naivete, I thought he liked me the same way as I did for him, but it was more like he was stringing me along with his words and actions. Though I have no doubts now that it wasn't on purpose. In the end, he chose a a beautiful girl. Her name was Cho Chang. And that was how I had my first heart break and unrequited crush." Harry huffs. "It was not one of my better school years." 

Riddle cards his long thin fingers through Harry’s hair before moving down to cup his cheek, lifting his head to meet Riddle’s gaze. Their gazes are heavy and a little lust hazed. 

“I’d treat you like a precious treasure, if you were mine.” Riddle croons. “Spoiled with jewels, clothes and whatever your heart desired. I'd give you the world if you so desired.”

Harry grins in amusement. “Aww how sweet. Although you should save those words for the person who has stolen your heart. Don’t waste them on a lowly prostitute like me.”

“What if I really did mean them for you?”

Harry laughs. “And I thought you didn’t have a sense of humor. You must be taking the Mickey, if you think you mean those words. Who could ever love a prostitute?" Harry smiles forlornly. "Who could ever love me?"

Harry smiles at Riddle again before looking back towards the crowd, never noticing the frown upon Riddle’s face.

His gaze until it freezes upon another figure that makes Harry’s blood freeze.

Fenrir Greyback.

He was notorious, intimidating and dangerous as they come. The type of man who loved to give pain to others. With his wild hair, piercing blue eyes, sharp teeth and huge build; Fenrir was a man very few dared to anger, and nicknamed the ‘Werewolf’ because of his M.O. of mauling his victims to death.

And he was hanging all over Lavender.

Harry can practically see her form trembling and pale in fear from where he’s at.

Fenrir is known to be rough with the prostitutes as well. Some even succumbing to death because of his… tastes. He gazes around his surroundings to see of there was somebody to help Lavender help. Though perhaps, many would dare not anger Greyback.

“What is wrong now?” Riddle asks a bit rudely. No doubt upset with Harry’s lack of attention. Again.

Harry clenches his fist. Right, he's currently with a customer, even if it is Mr. Riddle. It wouldn’t do any good to get on Riddle’s bad side, especially now. He takes a deep breath until he believes he is relatively calm. “I’m sorry Mr. Riddle. It seems that I really am not feeling well tonight. It might’ve been something I ate earlier today or a bug.” Harry apologizes. “Perhaps I should head to bed earlier today so it doesn’t affect me anymore than necessary.”

He needed to somehow rescue Lavender. She didn’t deserve to be Greyback’s next victim. Unfortunately, it seemed the odds and Fate was against him tonight. Riddle harshly grabbed his wrist, almost bruising, and glared at Harry.

“No,” The words harsh and authoritative. “You will stay here where you belong. Right by my side.”

Clenching his teeth, Harry doesn’t say anything right away. He needs to stay calm. He doesn't care about the consequences right now. He needs to rescue Lavender right now.

“Please, sir, may I be excused?” Harry asks, tone clipped.

Riddle scowls. “Why? Are you tired of my company already? Another prospective client in your line of vision? Is it because I’m not fucking you like the dirty whore you are?”

That was going too far.

Fine. If Riddle wants to be that way, then Harry has no problem being rude back.

Looks like spending time with Riddle would inevitably end tonight, not that he cares anyway.

“No.” He spat. “I may be a dirty whore, as you say, but I’m still a person first and foremost. And since you’re dying to know, I just want to check up on my fellow co-workers. One can never be too careful in our line of work.” Harry stood, a prominent sneer upon his face, shaking himself from Riddle's loosened grip. “But what would you know, we’re just dirty whores who deserve what comes at us, right? We're not human beings, just paid bodies to please others.”

Harry didn’t bother waiting for Riddle to speak, anger coursing through him and building with every second he stayed in the man’s presence. Harry needed to cool off before he did something he’d regret.

And what's worse, Greyback and Lavender had disappeared from their previous spot.

Cursing, Harry scans the entire area but they were gone.

Harry silently prays to whatever God or spiritual deities that possibly existed (if they did) that nothing bad happens to her.


It’s been three days since Harry’s last seen Lavender.

And of Riddle, but Harry hardly cares about him at the moment.

He’s asked every one of his fellow prostitutes and various club workers if they have seen her. However, no such luck. Not even her closest friends and confidantes the Patil Twins have seen her since she left with Fenrir Greyback all those nights ago. All Harry and the others can do is just wait patiently and anxiously for her return. They had had Dobby secretly file a missing persons report in hopes that teh police would take it seriously and find her before its too late.

Then the news of her mauled body being found comes to them three days later; six days total since Lavender was last seen alive. So badly disfigured and decomposed - at least what they gathered from some of their "sources" - it was a miracle the police even managed to identify her. She had been dumped in a forested area that was not often traveled besides the occasional local residents, miles away from London.

Harry is numb. He wasn’t exceptionally close to Lavender but her death hits him hard. Anger, sadness, frustration, a whole ocean of emotions war and boil beneath his skin with no outlet. The details about her murder, makes his blood boil; makes him hate how they were treated.

Like they didn’t matter.

All of them know exactly who the killer is, but they have no power nor evidence to put Fenrir Greyback behind bars. There’s an unspoken rule at The Chamber of Secrets, what happens in the club stays in the club and also one of Mr. Riddle's men high in the hierarchy. 

No one could report what anyone was doing to protect the integrity of the club’s unspoken rule.

Lavender would never get the justice she deserved.

“Lavender.” Padma sobs, clutching her sister hard. “Why her?”

Harry, Padma, Parvati, Justin and Terry are all gathered around in their small shared personal common room. Their moods are somber and angry. They hold a small vigil with a picture of Lavender before they are forced to forget their grief and get to work.

“She was just at the wrong place at the wrong time.” Terry says. 

Harry wonders if he’s just trying to make it easier on them all, especially the Patil Twins.

Parvati shakes her head. “No. Greyback had picked his victim, I’m sure. Who’s to say none of us will be next? After all, we’re all expendable.”

No one spoke more because what she said was true.

Nothing was stopping anyone from doing whatever they wanted, especially to them.

They were expendable.


Three weeks have passed since Lavender’s death and seeing Riddle. Harry and the others had mourned for a day before they had to move on, no matter if they wanted to or not. A few days later, a new girl had replaced Lavender. She was young and fresh eyed and Harry pitied her. She had a naivete that would become extinguished in time, he was sure. However, he didn't have time to deal with a wet behind the ears newbie, he had his own problems to deal with.

Like the fact, that even though he had not seen Riddle since that night, Harry had his suspicions that the man was still paying for his time, though he never showed up. He would have hours upon hours of no customers, just him sitting in his room alone when those hours were booked. He occasionally received bouquets of roses and new clothes as gifts, either as compensation or placating gifts. Harry doesn't know what game Riddle is playing because he was positive that Riddle wouldn’t want to do anything with him anymore after blowing him off last time.

So he’s both surprised and not when he’s called to meet with Riddle in a private room.

And is standing frozen from shock.

“What?”

Harry gazes back at Riddle in shock. He thought there would be threats upon his person for his attitude last time, possibly angry sex, and degrading comments from the man as well. But instead, the meeting had gone a completely and unexpected direction.

In fact, the man couldn't be serious!

“I’ve paid off your debt.” Riddle says slowly as if he is talking to someone stupid.

Harry hesitates to say anything. The revelation of the recent events have all jumbled inside his mind and made it difficult to process what is actually happening.

“Thank you? I guess? But what’s the catch?” Harry narrows his eyes. There’s no way there isn’t some condition for Riddle’s “generous” contribution. And why would Riddle even bother to pay off his debt? What was so special about him? He was just Harry, a lowly prostitute and a nobody. Riddle was handsome and ran a successful casino business, he could have anyone he wanted. 

Riddle saunters closer to Harry, their faces intimately close and body’s flushed against each other. It doesn’t bother Harry with Riddle’s closeness but he doesn’t think this is the time for them to be intimate when they have a serious discussion going on. 

“To be mine now and forever.” He says seriously.

Harry raises an eyebrow in disbelief. “Is this supposed to be some kind of marriage proposal? Cause it sucks.”

“If you wish to take it that way.” Riddle says.

Harry moves away from Riddle, glaring for good measure because this is the most bizarre and definitely not the best situation he somehow landed in. Why would Riddle want to marry him?! Paying off his debt is one thing, but marriage? Harry is not happy with the turn of events.

“So basically, I’m your property. You’re personal fuck toy forever.” Harry scowls. "All under the pretense of marriage."

Riddle frowns. “Not in such crude terms.”

Fantastic. Just what he wanted to hear today.

Not.

Harry lightly scoffs, unfortunately, there isn’t much he can do at the moment. This is his life, dictated by those who have power over him. A light sneer shows on his face. Why did his life have to suck? All he ever wanted was to be normal.

“So what now? I only pleasure you when you come visit your club?” Like some dirty little secret, or a mistress, is left unsaid

“No. You’ll be living with me.” Riddle says serious.

If Harry had been drinking anything he surely would’ve choked. Eyes wide, Harry can’t believe what he just heard. “You’re joking!”

“I am not. As we'll be married, it is only natural that we will live together.”

Harry purses his lips.

Well damn. What was he supposed to do now? Riddle may be some powerful mob boss but Harry wasn’t just going to submit. 

“What the hell made you even pay off my debt?! And what makes you think I would even want to live with you!?” Harry retorts hotly.

“Because you intrigue me and―”

Harry throws his arms in the air. “Of course! How could I have forgotten! I’m nothing more than a shiny new toy! And when you’re no longer interested, I’ll be tossed to the side like yesterday’s trash! And you'll move on to the next whore who catches your fancy.”

He huffs in frustration soon after.

Riddle is still calm and composed, a tiny smirk – which infuriates Harry even more – on his face. “When you’re done complaining―” an indignant What “―I would very much appreciate it if you signed this marriage certificate. It’ll make things much smoother.” Riddle smirks. “And should the day I grow bored of you ever comes, then we’ll divorce amicably with most of my assets remaining mine and you can have something like a house and car and maybe some money. It’ll be all written in a contracted agreement, of course. So what do you say? After all, this will be much better than your current situation.”

“Not like I have any choice, now do I?” Harry hisses.

Damn Riddle to Hell.

“Glad you see it my way.”

Harry really wanted to punch Riddle in his smug, albeit handsome face. He has two options and none are in his favor. Stay here working as a prostitute, even if his debt had been paid, Harry had no doubt that Riddle would demand him to reimburse him or to get married to the man and be his husband for however long until Riddle tires of him.

Snatching the pen off the table next the marriage certificate laying innocently upon the table, Harry harshly signed his name, wishing the paper would suddenly combust into flames.

“Now let us leave here, Husband dearest.” Riddle says.

“Wait.”

Riddle turns towards him, an impatient and questioning gaze on his face.

Harry lifts his chin in slight defiance. “I need to pack my things before we leave. And say goodbye to the others.”

Riddle frowns. “You won’t need those clothes anymore. We’ll be going shopping later tomorrow anyway.”

“It’s not about my clothes. I have personal belongings that are very important to me! I’m not leaving them behind! And I don’t want the others to suddenly find me missing like Lavender. It’ll just be thirty minutes.” Harry says, tone not quite pleading.

Riddle huffs, “Fine. Thirty minutes only and then we’re leaving.”

When Harry breaks the news to his co-workers, they undeniably shocked. The Patil Twins squeal in delight, more alive since Lavender’s death, at how romantic the situation is. Harry doesn’t think so and apparently neither did Terry. If his angry scowling face is any indication. Though if he was upset because Harry was able to leave or marry the owner tom Riddle, Harry doesn't have a clue. Justin just smiles happily for him.

“Don’t forget us now!” Padma says, a wide smile on her face as she gives Harry an old trunk for him to stick his belongings into. "Call us or right letters! Anything to let us know how your new life is going! Please!"

"That's right! You're finally leaving!" Parvarti squeals.

“Well, at least one of us is getting out of this shit hole the proper way.” Justin states.

The room quiets for a moment of silence for Lavender, before the others go back to helping harry pack what little personal belongings he has. Harry won't miss the work, but he knows he would have spiraled down into a dark path if not for the others who had been here just as long as he had been.

Harry waves one last time to them, before he meets Riddle by the entrance of the casino floor. Together they head down the first floor then to the entrance of the building. Harry briefly pauses. Once he steps out those doors, he'll be on a new path for his life. Whether it would be a good or bad change will have to be seen. He takes a deep breath and moves forward.

His new life begins now.

Chapter Text

The large manor in front of him his impressive, though Harry inwardly scoffs at its location upon a hill over looking Little Hangleton, and several hours away from London.

Servants line up outside the Manor doors to welcome them as soon as the car comes to a stop.

'Of course he has servants,' Harry thinks.

Tom exits the driver seat until he goes around and holds a hand out to Harry in an act of chivalry. Harry hesitates for only a little bit before reluctantly setting his hand in the other's and helping him out of the car. Harry wants to scoff at the nature of Riddle treating as some kind of delicate woman when he is in fact very much male. He can clearly feel the staff casting judging gazes upon him because of his attire. Him wearing his usual crop top and tight black low riding jeans, they must think already think that he is trouble. Though it wouldn't be the first time someone has done that based on his clothes, even when he had been at his relatives.

Two of the staff easily carry both his and Tom's suitcases from the trunk.

"Welcome back, Sir." An older man says, who Harry assumes is the butler.

He promptly ignores the Riddle and the servants as he inspects his new living arrangements. He's so intrigued by the architecture and items in the entrance hall that he startles when a hand his placed upon his shoulder. He turns to glare at who ever scared him and it is no one but Riddle smirking at him.

"Harry, love, I'd like for you to get acquainted with the head of the servants, my butler, Mr. Callow." Riddle says. "Callow, this is my newly wedded husband, Harry Potter-Riddle."

A few of the staff present gasp in surprise.

Harry has to give the butler props, he only showed his surprise for a brief moment before getting back into control. He definitely knows he'll be the talk of the staff once they are excused to go. After all, he's Riddle's "beloved husband". What a joke.

Callow bows, "It's a pleasure to meet you sir. If you have any questions or concerns, do not hesitate to let me or our Head Maid Ms. Davis know."

"Thank you." Harry answers politely. It wouldn't do good to be rude to the staff.

"We've had a long drive so we'll go to our room and rest. Call us when dinner is ready." Tom says as he places a hand upon Harry's lower back, steering him to their new destination.

The butler nods then sends the rest of the staff to finish up their work.

When they finally reach "their" bedroom, Harry will admit that he was pretty impressed with it. It was large with a four poster king sized bed, dark maroon curtains currently tied back. It was minimalist that you could get for a luxury room, with a large wardrobe, a few dressers, and it's own en suite bathroom. There was another door that lead to a personal study which he assumed was Riddle's work space.

"Nice room Riddle." Harry says when he finishes his inspection. "Will I be staying here until my own room is ready?"

Riddle smirks, "You'll be sleeping here with me like a couple would do. No personal room for you, love. After all, what would the staff think if they knew we weren't acting like a real couple? And this is the twenty-first century, mind you, couples sleep in the same room and bed. And please, call me Tom, we are married."

"Whatever." Harry says. "I just thought that since it's not a true marriage on love then why make us spend time with each other, Tom?"

Tom comes behind Harry, wrapping his arms around his waist, with one hand moving up underneath Harry's crop top to tweak a nipple and the other to gently caress Harry's inner thigh. Biting and sucking on Harry's right ear, Tom coos, "Oh Darling, how can we get to know each other intimately when we don't spend time with each other?"

"I'm sure you're idea of being intimate is different to other couples who want to get to know each other better." Harry says breathlessly. Harry really loved how skillful Riddle's hands were, though the shitty marriage they were in was not his favorite.

"Perhaps," Tom concedes, "But I'm sure you don't mind, after all, you're aroused just as I am."

Harry turns around and glares. "Just shut up and let's fuck already. It's your marital duty to make sure I'm happy and sated in this marriage, isn't Tom?" Harry mocks, before his mouth his taken over by a searing kiss.

Tom croons. "As you wish."

They spent the entire time until dinner fucking on the bed like rabbits. Harry thought it was a pretty good first night of his "married" life.

-

The week of being married passed both agonizingly slow and fast. The staff were always trying to get a good look at him to gossip about him in private. Apparently, they had no idea that their employer Mr. Riddle was even dating let alone planning on marrying. Harry was not amused that he was some sort of entertainment until the time came when it became old news. Thankfully, none of them knew his previous "employment", only that he had worked at one of Riddle's many businesses and that's how they met.

He knows that a few of the maids had sighed at the thought them falling in love at first sight and having a romantic whirlwind boss and employee relationship.

Though Harry did give them a shock of their lives on the first morning officially as Mr. Riddle's husband, when he came down form breakfast in a dark red long sleeved crop top and his favorite low riding black skinny jeans and converse. He was only twenty-one. He could dress however the hell he wanted. 

Riddle had taken one look, sighed, and only said, "We'll have to get you some regular clothes soon Harry, otherwise you'll scare away my important guests during formal dinners."

"But I like these types of clothes," He had argued. It honestly wasn't a big deal if he had to get new clothes, but he just felt like he had to be a little difficult for Riddle since he forced him into this sham of a marriage.

"We can still buy you some, but you will need more variety and formal clothing." Tom answered unconcerned. 

Harry shrugged. Whatever. As long as Riddle was paying he didn't care. If he was going to be stuck in this marriage then he was going to get as much as he could out of it, even though he was not materialistic at all, courtesy of the Dursleys. He would think of this as a "vacation" until Riddle was tired of him.

Riddle had decided that the rest of their day was going to be spent shopping for an update to Harry's wardrobe. They had bought a lot, but as long as they didn't have to go multiple times, Harry was up for going and getting everything in one trip, maybe two if needed. They miraculously managed it with one trip and Harry now had a many choices to choose from. Most luxurious and expensive name brands, however, he still wore his crop tops and skinny jeans and by the fourth day the staff was no longer shocked with his type of dress. 

Walking around the gardens was relaxing and Harry didn't feel like he was being constantly watched by the staff. He didn't know how long he was there relaxing until one of the staff came to inform him it was almost time for dinner and he had to get ready.

Harry sighed, but easily went to do as the maid asked.


Tom sits in his study contemplating his recent impulse life decisions.

That's what they were. Impulses. 

Since he was a child, he hardly ever made an impulse decision, always trying to have his decisions be rational, quick, efficient, and based on fact. It was what was drilled into him by his father Tom Riddle Sr. since he was young. Never to show any emotion, always a poker face lest others take advantage of his weakness. The life lesson had helped him throughout his teenage years when he was seducing old aristocratic heirs and heiresses to support him in his multiple business endeavors. 

Yet, when it came to Harry Potter, his rationale seemed to fly out of his mind.

When he had first had the young man service him all that time ago, he was intrigued and sated by the boy's skill. When he continued to seek him out despite not always knowing why, Tom just knew that he had enjoyed their time together, whether tumbling in the sheets or just chatting, it was different than with his ex-flings and the other prostitutes he's slept with.

He was always irritated when he saw Harry with his other customers like Rastaban. or other nameless men at his club. So much so, even his subordinates knew it and were even more cautious of him. he had to buy out harry's time whenever he could.

After the huge disagreement back at his club and the prerequisite of the death of that Lavender Brown girl, he knew that he couldn't let harry slip through his fingers at all costs. And when he had the plan to marry Harry after a disagreement, he knew that he wouldn't have to share Harry with anybody until his curiosity was sated and he could divorce him amicably, on the fact that Harry wouldn't have any developing romantic feelings for him of any kind.

Tom doubts either of them will have deeper feelings other than fondness and companionship for being stuck together for a year. 

But impulses. Tom mentally scolds himself for his lack of restraint when wanting to show off. It's not like he's trying to woo harry to stay with him forever. He just needs to get his rationale back under control, otherwise it'd be like when he had to take the young man shopping for some decent and appropriate clothes for everyday and formal events. Tom had literally spent a few grand in clothes and accessories. He knew that Harry was not with him for his money and not by choice either, but he wanted to show off that he was the best choice for a reliable and providing spouse.

Which was completely unlike him. 

The few people he had dated throughout his teenage and young adult life were shallow and a means to an end. 

He wouldn't say he was overly fond of Harry. There was lust for sure, heavy amounts of it, amusement, and a burning curiosity, but he has no doubt that when the year passed, he'd be bored of his new husband. 

But for now, it was just a thing to pass his time when he wasn't working.

RING. RING.

The tone of his cellphone brought his thoughts to a halt. He scowled when he saw the Caller ID reading Bellatrix.

Tom sighed. He didn't want to deal with his ex-fling more than what was necessary, but she was persistent in contacting him whenever and whether it was convenient for him or not. He has no idea why Rodolphus continued to stay married to her when she obviously did not care for him or did not hide her intentions to be with Tom, but it was not completely his problem what goes on in their marriage.

Finally he answered, better to get it over with otherwise, she would just keep calling for hours on end.

"What is it Bellatrix?" Tom answers coldly.

"Aww, Tom. Is that anyway to speak to the mother of your daughter?" Bellatrix cooed.