Just Call Me Boy

A/N: I would like to thank achaean for the inspiration for this story. She's written two wonderful, incomplete stories, called A Day When Nobody Dies and My Give A Damn's Busted. I've taken inspiration from 'give a damn' and would like to give credit where credit's due. I'm just sorry she never felt the need to finish either story. They are wonderful, and she has a particular talent for telling tales from the first-person perspective.

Harry sat hunched over at the table, a drink in front of him. He didn't even look up as the blond slid into the booth across from him, sliding another drink in front of the raven.

"Drink up, Harry," Draco said softly. "The new year is just about upon us." Harry gave his friend a sad smile.

"Yippee," he said sarcastically. "Not a hell of a lot for me to celebrate, is there? I'm expected to go after the Dark Lord Voldemort tomorrow at sunrise. Never mind that I don't even want to. I can't beat him. I've absolutely no training or skills, and my wand is brother to his. I don't think it will work against him." Harry's head drooped lower. "He's been chattering in my head for the last few weeks, trying to convince me to join his side of things. Dumbledore has been restricting my movements in Hogwarts, and has had my friends watching me at the Dursleys. Nothing good about them being there, either. They don't lift a finger when the Dursleys…erm…nevermind. The point is I have no life, so a new year of this non-life is meaningless." Someone nudged Harry's shoulder with a hip, and he looked up to see Lucius Malfoy, smirking at him. Harry slid dutifully over, allowing the elder blond to sit beside him, effectively trapping Harry in his seat. Severus Snape slid into the booth beside Draco, also smirking at the brunet. The Gryffindor didn't care; these were the only people in the whole wide world that even remotely cared about him.

"Cheer up, Potter," the Potions Master snarked good-naturedly. "I've a strong suspicion that all of your current problems will soon be forgotten." At that moment, a tall, dark-haired man sidled up to the booth, standing next to Lucius. Harry looked over at the newcomer disinterestedly at first, but did a double take, looking his fill at the new eye candy. His sable locks fell in graceful waves to his shoulders, and his skin was a soft-looking cream color. Eyes of the deepest ruby, above sculpted cheekbones and a firm chin completed one of the most beautiful faces Harry had ever seen. His eyes skimmed down the tight, fit body, before bouncing back up to those crimson eyes with something like fear. A smirk curled full lips, and a hand was held out to him.

"May I have this dance?" the man asked softly, just as a slow song started to play in the club. Harry nodded dumbly as Lucius slid from the booth, allowing the teen to slide over and stand from the seat. He shakily took the other man's hand, following him to the floor. The older man turned and swept Harry into his arms, slowly spinning him around the floor. After a nervous few moments, the raven relaxed, wrapping his arms around the other man's neck and laying his head on a broad shoulder. He sighed contentedly as he allowed the stronger man to lead him around the room.

"I finally have you where I want you," the man murmured in Harry's ear, sending shivers down the younger man's spine. "You're mine, Harry. You do know that, don't you?"

"Why?" Harry questioned softly, nuzzling deeper into Voldemort's neck. "Why do you even want me? I'm worthless, nothing, weak, spineless, useless...Take your pick." Arms tightened around the raven's waist, hands splayed across his back and fingers clutching before they relaxed, the hands slowly stroking up and down Harry's back. Riddle noticed minute flinching and frowned at the response, concerned about the cause of the movement. A small whimper of pain escaped Harry's lips before he could stop it, and Tom's hands stilled, moving down to rest gently at the teen's hip bones. The Dark Lord filed away the reactions of pain for later consideration, leaning his head down to briefly kiss Harry's neck. The brunet shivered at the caress, sighing softly in pleasure.

"Never say that about yourself," Riddle snarled quietly in the younger man's ear. "You are powerful and beautiful, strong and graceful. You've stood toe to toe with me, never backing down, and were able to defeat me the few times I'd attempted to kill you. For Merlin's sake, you even killed my basilisk, and you were only twelve. So don't tell me that you're weak, spineless, or useless. And as for worthless, well, you are worth sacrificing the whole of the wizarding world for. I would willingly lay down my life for you.

"As to why, well, I've wanted you since the graveyard, when you bravely faced me across the Death Eater circle. Even injured, you still stood your ground and fought me. I saw then how astonishingly beautiful you were, and knew I had to have you. I've fallen for you, Harry James Potter, and would be honored if you would be my Consort." Harry froze for a moment before stumbling back into the easy rhythm that the Dark Lord had set up for their dance. Blushing furiously, the sixteen year old young man buried his head in the other man's neck again and let out a shuddering sigh.

"Consort," he finally said softly. "What does that mean? Does that mean we'll be married? Will I still have to fight? What about tomorrow? I'm supposed to face you at dawn tomorrow. Dumbledore has made 'arrangements' for me to be out on my own in Diagon Alley. He'd instructed Severus to tell you that I'd be unchaperoned during my shopping trip."

"A consort is a spouse, of sorts," Riddle answered, smiling. "It's a more equal relationship, in which both parties of the union share equally in all things. It is more than a marriage, as that is a purely muggle convention. It will entail a bonding ritual, where we will exchange blood, and is permanent. You will no longer have to fight, if that is your wish. I have several highly warded manors scattered around the world, and we can live in any one you wish. You will be protected and safe, and will most likely be spoiled and pampered.

"As for tomorrow, you will do your shopping as scheduled, and I will appear, also as scheduled. We will put on a 'show', and, at my signal, Lucius will come from behind and stun you, whereby I will scoop you up in my arms and 'abduct' you. For the time being, we will be staying in Slytherin Castle, until other arrangements are made. None of the Death Eaters, except for Lucius and Severus of course, have access to the castle. You will be quite safe, and since everyone believes the castle to be in ruins, no one would ever think of looking for you there. Besides, it has some of the most formidable wards, as well as some of the strongest unplottable charms on it."

As Riddle explained, Harry burrowed himself deeper and deeper into the Dark Lord's arms, sighing happily as the elder man outlined every precaution being taken on the raven's behalf. They continued to sway around the floor, and, as they passed the entrance to the club, Harry flinched when he saw a familiar pair of Gryffindors standing there, eyes frantically searching for him. He ducked his head back into Riddle's shoulder, hoping to Hades that the pair hadn't seen him. Fate, however, wasn't being particularly kind to him at the moment. They started his way, bulling their way between the spinning couples and earning themselves some vicious, venomous glares, which they ignored with impunity. Their trek was interrupted by Severus and Lucius, who stopped them to engage in a verbal sparring match, giving the Dark Lord time to take Harry out the back.

"Will you come with me for a while?" Riddle asked softly, his arms around the teen. Harry looked deeply into the ruby eyes of the man who had killed his parents and had tried to kill him. All he saw was honest concern and, he was sure, love. He nodded hesitantly, gasping as the Dark Lord side-along apparated them to Slytherin Castle. They stood in the foyer for a moment, to allow Harry to get his bearings and his equilibrium back, before they walked the halls until they came to a door. Riddle opened it, and Harry saw a lavish study, with a large oak desk the focal point. The chaises, divans and chairs scattered around the room were made of black leather, and looked comfortably well-padded. Glancing shyly at the man next to him, who nodded his permission, the teen took a few tentative steps into the study, looking around with great appreciation. Walking to a chaise, Harry sat down carefully, but couldn't hide the wince. Riddle's ruby eyes sharpened at the wince, and he sat behind the desk, looking intently at the boy before him.

"Drop the glamours, Harry," he said softly. Harry flushed with shame and guilt, dropping the glamours instantly. Riddle gasped at the sight before him. Bruising on Harry's face highlighted the pallor of his skin, and there were handprints around the young man's throat, indicating that he'd been throttled recently. His arms were covered with cuts and scrapes, and there was dried blood on his shirt. "I didn't realize that it was this bad. What set it off this time? How is it your babysitters don't see this?"

"The Dursleys hate me," the teen answered shamefully. "They beat me and starve me, and my 'friends' were told to ignore how they treat me. Nothing really set it off, except for maybe my mere existence. This is mild compared to some days. Besides, Dumbledore told them that the Dursleys were instructed to 'keep me in line by any means necessary', and since it's the all-powerful, all-knowing Albus Dumbledore that told them this, they listen. And yet he expects me to have the strength and will to fight you."

"Never again," the ruby eyed man snarled viciously, rising and rounding the desk. "Forget the plans for tomorrow. You're not returning to that house ever again. From this moment on, you are a free wizard, able to do what you want, eat what you want, go where you want, and live your life as you want. We will perform the bonding ritual tomorrow, which will break the Ministry trace on your wand and your person. Once we're bonded, you will be a legal adult in the eyes of the wizarding world, and no one will be able to ever touch you again without severe consequences." Tom gently pulled the young man into his arms, comforting him as he cried out his pain. All too soon, the boy fell into an exhausted sleep. Tom lifted him in his arms, bridal style, frowning at how light the sixteen year old was, and carried him up to the master suite, where he wandlessly changed Harry's clothes for black silk pajama pants. Tucking him into bed, the Dark Lord stripped down to his boxers before climbing in behind the young man, cuddling him close and wrapping warm arms around the boy.

"You're mine, Harry Potter," the red eyed man whispered in the teen's ear. "I'm never letting you go again."

Moaning quietly, Harry slowly awoke, basking in the warmth of the comfortable bed. He slowly turned over, the arms around him loosening just enough to allow the movement before tightening again. Opening emerald eyes, the raven looked into ruby eyes, smiling softly at the devotion he could see in their crimson depths. "Did you mean it?" he asked softly, still unsure.

"Did I mean what?" Riddle asked quietly, smiling slightly.

"Did you mean it when you said you're never letting me go?"

"Every blessed word." Sighing happily, Harry snuggled deeper into the Dark Lord's arms, before hissing in pain. Pulling back, Riddle's eyes narrowed on the bruising on the raven's face. Without a word, he left the bed, leaving behind a bereft teen, who shivered in the sudden cold. A whimper stopped Tom in his tracks, and he turned to see the devastated look on Harry's face. Immediately realizing what he'd done, he quickly pulled the brunet from the bed, engulfing him in a warm, secure hug, ever mindful of the injuries his future bonded had suffered. "I'm sorry, Harry," he whispered in the teen's ear. "I didn't mean to make you feel unwanted, even for a moment. I'm just so…furious at what the headmaster's put you through. I was only going to get some healing potions and balms for your injuries."

"Oh," Harry softly replied. "I…I thought that…that you didn't want m-me anymore."

"Even after I promised you that I wasn't letting you go ever again?" Tom asked in amusement.

"Everybody makes that promise," the raven answered quietly. "And everyone breaks that promise. It's a fact of my miserable excuse for a life."

"We're getting bonded today," Tom returned, a little heat in his voice. "That is a permanent, binding promise to you that I will never leave you. I vow to you, Harry James Potter, that I will never break a promise, I will never leave you, I will never take you for granted, and I will always, always love you."

"Thank you," the raven whispered, looking down shyly. "No one has ever put forth so much effort to reassure me, and try to keep me safe. I…I think I love you, too, Tom."