Actions

Work Header

A Spell Named Desire

Chapter Text

Tom Riddle had two obsessions, one being power. He craved it, whether it was the rush of his magic rising to do his bidding or the reverence that was starting to bleed into his peers’ gaze when they turned to him.

His second obsession, be it a curse or a vice, was fixated on one person: Hadrian Potter, or Harry as he preferred to be called. Harry was the discarded twin of Charlus Potter who was named heir to the Potter line solely for being the elder by two minutes. Never mind that Hadrian was the more powerful of the two, the more fitting, and more cunning. Hadrian was considered to be the spare, less valuable but not worthless in pureblood society.

From the very moment Tom had laid eyes on the other boy, Tom had felt inevitably drawn to him. Tom knew it was only a matter of time before he gained possession of Hadrian; all his plans were unfolding magnificently after all. It was with this confidence that Tom made his way to the dungeons to pursue the Potter spare.

His thoughts were preoccupied, his brilliant mind twisting and turning the many plans he had set in motion when he reached the Slytherin dorms. Tom paused, fingertips just barely brushing the door knob. The absolute silence coming from within the rooms was glaringly obvious.

Dark eyes with the barest tint of red, narrowed dangerously. He knew what he would find inside.

He stepped inside; breathe catching upon seeing two of his peers shamelessly fucking on Abraxas’ bed with the curtains spread wide apart. Tom forced his body to remain in its relaxed pose even as rage ignited in his mind and a different kind of heat spread through his body.

Abraxas Malfoy, arrogant and proud scion of the Malfoy line was currently rutting like a beast against the slighter form of their younger dorm mate and Tom’s obsession.

With his blood boiling, Tom sauntered into the room, casually, as though the sight of his obsession being claimed by another was a matter not worthy of his regard.

But for all his carefully controlled actions and his cool stare, it did matter. This was the first time that Hadrian was so careless with his indiscretions. Tom was not a fool; he knew that many lusted after Harry. A good amount was deterred by Harry’s elder brother who glared at anyone who so much as glanced at his twin with a spark of interest in their eyes. Even as a disgrace, as an unneeded spare, Harry was still a Potter. And those that were courageous enough to defy the Potter heir were not so keen on challenging the obvious claim Tom had on Harry.

But no one could resist Harry, not with his inviting body, his entrancing eyes, and his quick mind. His sweet words were enough to encourage any wizard or witch into believing that Harry was for them. There was infatuation and one could get love drunk simply off the power of Harry’s magic. Abraxas was no different from the rest that had been caught and snared.

Abraxas had one hand gripping Harry’s wrists above his head. His face was buried in the nape of Harry’s neck, eyes scrunched closed as his hips moved in a harsh rhythm between Harry’s legs. The slapping of skin against skin was a taunt to Tom, an affront in its very existence.

He was furious, murderous, but if there was one thing that Tom was not, it was weak. His control was impeccable and because this was so, Tom was able to play this game.

He could see the beads of sweat that formed on their bodies, the smell of arousal and musk of sex permeated the air. If he angled his head just right, he could see the junction where their bodies joined, a brief glimpse of Abraxas' slick erection as he drew his hips back before pushing back in. Tom couldn't tear hid eyes away as Abraxas repeated the motion with varying strengths.

Sometimes he took Harry so roughly that the dark haired boy would grunt, imprisoned hands turning white as his body grew taut. And other times, Abraxas would savor the experience, staying rooted inside Harry, grinding his cock deep, before slowly withdrawing, shuddering as though the exquisite friction against his member was just shy of too much.

He tore his gaze away, eyes falling on Harry’s taut stomach, the rise and fall of his chest as he panted out his pleasure.

Tom made his way over to the bed, lowering his weight gently on the surface.

Tom leaned forward, lightly brushing his fingertips through the damp strands of Harry’s hair. Harry’s face was slack with pleasure, his eyes fluttering open at the light touch. Green eyes, another trait that Tom was obsessed with, fused with his own. They reminded him of the killing curse, of death, and of victory that was yet to come. He cataloged every change in expression, the hooded eyes, the downward turn of his kiss swollen lips, and even the slight clench of his jaw that betrayed the pleasure that was coursing through his body.

“T-Tom.” His name was exhaled along with a muffled moan. All at once, the rage Tom felt simmering burst, his control snapping like a stretched rubber band. His feather light touch turned into a harsh tug, pale fingers digging into the damp tufts of hair to grip the very roots. Tom viciously yanked Harry’s head back, earning a broken moan and a startled grunt from Malfoy as Harry's body tightened from the pain.

Abraxas had lifted his head and although he continued to thrust into the willing body beneath him, Tom could sense the underlying fear that was rising off the blonde. He knew that he was wrongfully claiming what Tom had declared his and he could feel the beginnings of trepidation trying to edge into his mind.

He shut his eyes tightly, focusing on the warm, wet heat he was burying his cock into. It was hard to describe how he ended up in this situation, but he had been lured into bed by demure little smiles and promising green eyes. And in the deepest corner of his subconscious, Abraxas had wanted to taste the forbidden fruit that was Hadrian Potter.

He had taken Harry to bed, first unwinding the Slytherin scarf from his neck to reveal the pale flesh of his throat. Harry had tilted his face just so; the slight movement had drawn Abraxas’ eyes to the soft pale lips. They parted slightly, enticing the Malfoy heir with a glimpse of a sinful tongue. How often had he seen Harry cast spells from that very mouth? He had seen so many fall to Harry's enchantment that he himself hadn't realized that he was just as caught and entranced as all those other hopeless fools.

He was here now though, Harry's smiling mouth so skillful in words and manipulation just inches away. The Malfoy heir became ravenous at the thought of what other uses that mouth could be put to. He knew what was happening, but still he allowed himself to effortlessly fall into Harry’s seduction.

They had ended up a tangle of limbs in the bed next to Tom Riddle’s, mouths pressing together and tongues sliding wetly against one another’s.

Harry’s soft mouth was so welcoming. Abraxas enjoyed the soft feel of his lips, but even more so the hint of teeth that nipped on his bottom lip. It sent a jolt of heat straight to his hardening cock as he returned Harry’s kisses with a nip of his own. He pulled away to take in the flushed face, before leaning in again to trail kisses along Harry’s jaw. They pressed together, sharing breath and passion as lips met and parted.

Abraxas was kissing and suckling, leaving red bruises that would darken beautifully on Harry’s neck when he felt Harry’s hand make its way to the front of his trousers. Harry pressed against the bulge he knew was there, feeling firm flesh beneath the layers of clothing. Abraxas hissed at the contact, pulling Harry even closer, drunk on the very touch and taste of him.

Before he knew it, he had Harry sprawled beneath him. His own robes had been discarded, the shirt underneath it as well. Harry had ran his hands up the length of his abs before digging his nails in slightly, a burst of pleasure and pain that only fueled his hunger. He fell against him then, fitting naturally in the space between the other boy’s legs. They continued to kiss, hands wandering, touching and caressing. His heavy cock was straining against his trousers even as he palmed Harry’s erection, feeling the hardness through the layers of clothing.

A minute later, or an hour, Abraxas didn’t care to keep track, he only knew that he was kneeling above a naked Harry, his slick fingers pumping in and out of the tight entrance he wanted to bury himself in. Harry was driving him mad, with his pleased sighs and how he arched his back, pushing himself against the fingers that were preparing him. Everything about him was a temptation, and Abraxas could hardly restrain himself as he once again caught those soft lips with his own.

And that’s how Tom Riddle had found them, with the Malfoy heir buried deep inside Hadrian Potter. And Abraxas knew that if Riddle chose to, he could make him suffer and that no one in Slytherin would side with him against Tom Riddle’s fury, not even Harry. Harry and Abraxas were not allies, let alone friends. They were lovers, just this once. Abraxas knew without a doubt that Harry had engaged in this with his own intentions besides that of lust. But in this moment, here and now, Abraxas couldn’t bring himself to care. He was so immersed in his passion, in Harry's green eyes and warm body that the hammering of his heart was easily lost to the adrenaline high coursing in his blood. He was so close…

“If you find your pleasure before his, there will be consequences.” The voice whispered dangerously in his ear. With a gasp, Abraxas jerked up, the movement of his hips faltering just enough to postpone his release.

Harry whined, slightly arching his back even as Abraxas regained his rhythm. Tom was watching Harry, his narrowed eyes filled with lust. They snapped up to meet the blonde’s, glinting with barely contained anger.

Tom was reigning in his tight control over the feelings that threatened to overwhelm him. His interest was obvious, Tom’s own arousal demanding attention the moment he saw Harry when he walked in. To see his obsession in such a state could only elicit one reaction from Tom, that of lust. The other emotions were reserved for those who dared touch what was his, but he would mete out punishment later. Tom simply could not ignore the sight of Harry's pleasure, even if it was given at the hands of another.

Tom ignored his own desires to find release, demanding instead, “Put him on his hands and knees.”

Obediently, Abraxas released Harry’s wrists and turned him over on his stomach. Harry went willingly enough, pushing himself up to his elbows, tilting his hips up in invitation. Tom clenched his jaw, watching as Malfoy position himself, one pale hand at gripping Harry’s hip and another aligning his cock. Harry grunted as Malfoy pushed himself in, head dropping to the bed with shaky breaths.

Tom once again dug his fingers into the boy’s hair, tugging his head up so that he could look into Harry’s green eyes filled with a mix of pleasure and pain.
He leaned down, their breaths mingling and shuddered as the shift in position caused his own erection to rub temptingly against his trousers.

“You are mine,” Tom whispered, rage, jealousy, and lust warring inside him. “You let this filth touch you… touch what I have claimed. Even now, he is moving inside you, laying stake to what is mine.” His face drew closer as his grasp tightened painfully.

Harry gave a huff of amusement, purposely rocking his hips against Malfoy’s. His eyes were hooded, eyelids lowered seductively over green. There was a spark in those vivid eyes that Tom couldn’t place and this, above all, pushed his control over the edge.

Legilimens,” Tom whispered. He tumbled into Harry’s mind and the sensations overwhelmed him. Pleasure and pain crested over him like a giant wave, it engulfed him and Tom fought to keep his mind separate from Harry… but he was so hot. There was a hunger inside him that was so familiar; it echoed in intensity to the burning rage and anger that he so often felt, but in the most pleasant and maddening way. It was desire and a mindless need that he wanted fulfilled. He could feel the sweat trailing down the back of his neck and large hands gripping his hips. The muscles in his legs and arms were also aching; he could even feel a slight tremor in his arms from holding his body up.

There was pain, but the sting of it was softened by desire, by the rush of pleasure that came as Abraxas worked himself in and out of Harry’s body. He pushed against the lean body behind him, wanting and needing more.

It felt so good, the hard cock driving into him and filling him in a way that he wanted so badly from Tom.

Tom.

His name jolted Tom’s mind into consciousness, pulling up walls to separate himself from Harry’s mind. Around him, he could hear Harry’s breathless laugh, low and warm and full of desire for… him. Harry’s mind blossomed open around him, yielding and offering. Even caught in his own physical desires, Harry was showing him what could be if only Tom would take it.

He pulled back, slipping from Harry’s mind only to feel Harry pull him into a ruthless kiss.

This was his, Harry was his. He pushed away his jealousy though the fire of his rage still simmered beneath of the surface of his skin. Harry gasped, and Tom stole the next kiss, tracing the parted lips with his own tongue before slipping inside. He only deepened the kiss further, exploring and tasting, erasing the traces of otherness that must have been Abraxas.

He could feel the way Harry’s breath hitched and the moan that escaped his throat as Malfoy started to lose control. He ignored the sounds Malfoy made as he spent his seed in Harry’s pliant body. He could not ignore the way Harry’s body stiffened, or his lust blown eyes. He took in the image of Harry at his height of his passion and took his mouth again once Harry had spent himself.

Abraxas Malfoy was a tool that Harry had used against him. As he plundered Harry’s soft mouth, he recalled the day he had publicly claimed Hadrian Potter in the Slytherin common room. Harry was not in the dungeons when Lestrange had made suggestive and lewd comments about the Potter spare, how he would enjoy pinning that slight body down and all the filthy things that Lestrange fantasized about doing. It was met with a hex, one that Tom had chosen for the simple fact that while it was not dark, it would leave Lestrange to suffer for days.

His quiet but deadly proclamation had left his followers silent. Abraxas had turned even paler than his complexion normally allowed.

And Hadrian had walked in, the fluid motions of his body attracting every gaze. He had stopped, took one disinterested look at Lestrange and then gave an inquisitive glance and “hmm” at Tom before moving towards the showers.

It was clear that Hadrian had set his plan in motion then, luring and enticing several wizards into his bed just to throw Tom’s claim back in his face.

Tom pulled away, taking in the even more pronounced swell of Harry’s lips. Their gazes met once again, Tom’s eyes hardened in challenge and the quiet confidence that he will get what he wants, and what he wanted was Harry Potter.