A/N: Hello, people!

I don't own Harry Potter.

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Harry Potter promptly found himself being pinned one of the hedges on Tom's property. He and Tom had been walking through the Riddle gardens, when Tom's whole body went still as a board. Harry had seen similar reactions in Draco whenever Vega decided she wanted to take over. He was not worried too much about Tom in regards to the switch between personalities. He was however, a little bit worried for his own health, as Tom had told him that Voldemort seemed to really like him. On a creepy level.

It was all in the way Tom's body changed. While there were no outward changes such as physical size or coloring or anything, it was still rather obvious that it was not Tom who was present at the moment.

Tom walked with a presence that demanded respect. And also demanded that people notice him. He was always calm and collected and did not allow anything but minor humor, lust, and annoyance to bleed through.

Voldemort was not the same. He was a completely different person.

While in control of Tom's body, Voldemort allowed himself to sway minutely back and forth. He made Tom's fingers play with the edges of his clothing. The tips of his perfectly tailored shirt. Unbuttoning said shirt completely but still keeping it on. Pulling the shirt from where it had been tucked into his trousers.

While Tom liked everything neat and orderly, Voldemort loved chaos. His eyes were shining with terribly concealed glee. He looked only a little mad and reminded Harry a bit too much of Bellatrix Lestrange in that moment.

He did not like that look on Tom's face. Did not like the fact that it was not Tom who was wishing to devour him.

Harry swallowed his worry as Voldemort regarded him closely. He swayed into Harry's personal space, bringing Tom's head - which was several inches above Harry's own - very close. He could easily breathe in the perfume Tom had put on that morning after his shower.

"I've been waiting to meet you!" trilled Voldemort, Tom's voice going unnaturally high and airy like.

"And I've… been curious about you," Harry answered, slightly put off by the childishness of Voldemort. It just didn't seem right when connected to Tom's face.

Voldemort's grabbed Harry's hand roughly, shaking it twice before forcefully linking their fingers and dragging the young man further into the gardens.

"Come Harry, tell Lord Voldemort all your secrets!" said the other, sitting primly on a stone bench and forcefully pulling Harry into his lap. He wrapped strong arms around Harry, caging him in and looking at him expectantly, Tom's eyes beguiling.

Harry easily took note of the term 'lord'. Voldemort considered himself a lord? Weren't lords supposed to be fancy and mature? Voldemort didn't seem to be either. In fact, Tom fit the description more than Voldemort did.

There was an insistent tap on his nose and he looked up in confusion.

"Lord Voldemort is not a patient man, little Harry. He prefers an answer."

Gone was the childish voice, Tom's natural sound morphing into something much darker and more threatening. Eyes now hooded though no less crazed. He was also making good use of the third person.

"Well... it depends on what secret you want to know," said Harry carefully, trying to locate which one he'd no doubt have to tell Voldemort. Most of his life had been aired to the public of England, though Little Hangleton was out of the way and he was sure no one here knew him. That meant he was keeping his past from Tom in essence and therefore it was kind of like a secret.

"Your most fearful secret," whispered Voldemort, nuzzling into Harry's ruffled locks.

"I was kidnapped by a mass murderer several years ago, because she wanted to be my new mummy."

Voldemort's body froze in place. "And did she do anything to you while you were with her?"

Harry shook his head, gooseflesh roused due to the pure darkness he could hear in that tone. "I hid under the bed and she threw a right tantrum."

"Hmm."

Voldemort rubbed his hands over Harry's shoulders, back, and stomach. He was clingy compared to Tom, which was odd since Tom was the one who preferred company.

"Want to know one of my secrets?" asked the man, because there was a great difference between he and Tom and Harry could seen the teen wasn't liked this person before him.

"I like blood," whispered Voldemort. "Love it. It's so appealing and it tastes… divine." Tom's tongue was trailing over Harry's right shoulder as deft fingers pulled his collar aside to expose more flesh.

He shivered because the thought that Voldemort used Tom's mouth to do… whatever he did with blood, was terrifying and to a low key… arousing.

"TOM!"

Their moment was completely ruined by the yelling of Tom Riddle Sr. The man rarely came around or bothered them whenever they were spending time together, so it was a shock. Enough to get Voldemort to release Harry from his tight grip and stand, though he looked unhappy.

Together, the two walked back to the manor, Harry eyeing the predatory grace in Tom's gait. Voldemort easily put on the act as if he was Tom, but Harry wasn't fooled because he'd just been licked by the man and knew the difference intimately now.

"Yes, father?" Voldemort simpered once he and Harry reached the building.

Tom Sr. was looking worried, eyes shifting nervously to his left and then his right ae he said, "Morfin Gaunt is out of prison and he's back."

Harry didn't know what was wrong with that but Voldemort's entire frame went rigid and Tom's eyes were narrowing dangerously.

"Oh, is he?" asked the man, affecting a stiff but disinterested persona.

"Yes. Do not approach him at all and if he so much as looks at you, walk the other way."

Voldemort nodded once.

Voldemort and Tom were arguing mentally over the new information as Tom took over his body and led Harry up to his room.

I say we go in the night and slit his throat, Voldemort demanded.

Tom disagreed, We should ignore him. He has experience in killing people.

So do I.

You maim, your actions hold no sort of grace or skill, sneered the teen.

Shall I show my skills by using your precious Harry as an example?

You wouldn't hurt him because he fascinates you, argued Tom.

Voldemort gave a throaty scoff. Oh, I'd hurt him. I'd enjoy seeing him scream and beg. His pain would be so beautiful. But it would only be beautiful if I were the one to inflict it.

You're mad!

Yes, but as this is your body and we are one in the same though two on the whole, wouldn't that make you mad as well? taunted Voldemort.

Tom decided to ignore him now, coming back to himself to find Harry and he sitting on his bed. Harry was calmly stroking the back of his left hand as he patiently waited for Tom to come to himself.

"I apologize," said the older youth.

Harry smiled, "I've dealt with Draco and Vega before. I know when to wait.

See how amazing he is? Why would you want to harm him?

Not everlasting harm, sighed Voldemort. A broken toy is of no use after all. Simply lingering pain, not too brutal.

You're sick!

Yes. We are.

"Why are you so worried about this Morfin Gaunt character?" Harry asked, drawing both of their attentions.

With a sigh, Tom stood and pulled Harry with him. "We'll see my personal library. It has the family history and this will take some time."

Tom rifled through his collection of papers and books he'd retrieved from the Gaunt Shack.

"My mother was Marvolo Gaunt's daughter. It is believed that the Gaunts practiced witchcraft and incest and as I was the only relation not in prison or dead, I had the right to the shack they lived in. I found ouija boards, salt, candles, various cauldrons. It was a little over the top.

Marvolo's other child Morfin, murdered our caretaker after Marvolo murdered my grandparents and injured my father. Marvolo died in prison, but Morfin wasn't given much time as he pled insanity.

If he's back, then Little Hangleton will need to be wary."

"Why would he try to kill your family if your father married your mother?"

Tom winced, "That's where the witchcraft comes in. Father does not remember marrying her, nor the months after. He awoke one day and demanded a divorce because he didn't know who she was or why he even married her in the first place. She tried to claim love but he said he didn't love or know her. He found bottles and vials of liquid that she claimed to have been giving him and he fled to the village, screaming that she had bewitched him. She was run off with threats of violence should she stay.

I was born in a London orphanage and lived there for six years until Tom found me by luck and took me back to his home. And here I am."

Tom gave a wry smile. "Marvolo hated my father for what he'd supposed done to his little girl and vowed revenge. Morfin is simply a follower who wants to honor his father's memory."

Tom unfolded the large scroll documenting of the Gaunt family, where it went up and up and up, marking where the name Gaunt came from at the top with Cadmus Peverell and the small, but detailed account of why the name was changed.

Harry goggled at the large parchment. "Peverell?" he murmured, sounding awed. "Cadmus Gaunt… formerly Peverell. Brother of Ignotus Peverell perhaps?

Tom blinked in surprise, "Yes. How did you-"

"Ignotus Peverell is the direct ancestor of the Potter family," said Harry.

"So then… we're cousins."

"Very distantly," Harry grinned. "That's awesome. My ancestor was said to have been good at slight of hand but denied claim of sorcery or connection with his eldest brother and moved his life and family and changed his name to better suit his purposes."

"That's what Cadmus did," Tom mumbled, reeling over the fact that he and Harry were technically related.

What were the chances?

How much more alike could they get?

That depends, purred Voldemort. Does he like men or women?

Who knows?

Find out, then.

"I don't think Voldemort enjoys the idea of being related to you," Tom said, decided to use Voldemort as an excuse and ignoring the other's cursing.

"What? Why?" asked Harry looking offended, green eyes bright with sadness.

"Because then we couldn't do this," Tom whispered, lightly placing his lips on Harry's own, soft ones.

Once he pulled back, he got to see the flush working its way up Harry's face.

"Well you know… this kind of thing is only bad if we're closer than second cousins," said the smaller teen, looking downright mischievous.

What a naughty little thing, Voldemort growled.

Shush, I'm enjoying this.

Hmph.

Tom smirked, pulling little, willing Harry in for another kiss, intent on educating him on the fine art of kissing.

"Oh Spirits, allow me to get revenge for my father. Give me the power to kill the Riddles."

Lightning cracked through the air in response and a deep cackle sounded.

A/N: Another is done.

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CHECK ME OUT ON TUMBLR. HELLY-WATERMELONSMELLINFELLON. I FOLLOW BACK.