A/N: Alright, this is my second (2nd) songfic. This one is based on the English translation (not English cover) of Matryoshka by Miku Hatsune and Gumi, mixed with the English translation (again, not cover) of Matryoshka by Zebra and Hashiyan (there's only a little bit of the Zebra and Hashiyan version near the end.)

I've not had a beta look it over, so any mistakes (per the usual) are all my fault and are hopefully not flame-worthy. [Then again, the freakin' doc. manager was trippin' balls when i tried putting the doc. onto it, so some of the mistakes might be either the fault of the internet or of the sit itself] If you see a mistake that really bugs you, I suggest you tell me about it in either a review or a private message. Your help is greatly appreciated. Flames, however, are not. So no flames, please.

Now, if you would please enjoy the story as it was meant to be enjoyed: in it's original format and WITH the lyrics that 'Irritated' hated so much he/she had to send me an anonymous flame. See you at the bottom! ~M.M.

Title: Matryoshka

Song: Matryoshka by Miku Hatsune and Gumi, and Matryoshka by Zebra and Hashiyan.

Summary (Full): Sirius is dead, and Harry has finally snapped. His magic reacts violently and throws all Order of the Phoenix members out of Number 12 Grimmuald Pl. But Harry's magic has a will of its own, and lets a certain specific Dark Lord into the house… HP/LV OR HP/TRJ Slash! Dark!Harry Abuse, violence, char. Death, mentions of sex. You have been warned!

Warnings: HP/LV, HP/TRJ, SLASH, Dark!Harry, abuse, violence, character death(s), mentions of homoerotic relationships, songfic, Light!Bashing, manipulative Dumbledore/other Light members/Order of the Phoenix members.

Pairings: HP/LV, HP/TRJ, mentions of: LL/HG, LB/GW, AD/GG.

Notes: This is not a 'Light side wins' story. I hope that if any of you were thinking, "oh, she's going to make a story where Voldie turns good and they all live happily ever after," then I sincerely wish that you press the button that allows you to return to the archive, where you'll find what you're looking for. This is NOT THAT STORY! So don't like, don't read, don't flame.

Words (with author's notes and desc., w/out rant): 5,855

A message I've thought too much about,

Maybe it'll reach somebody, who can say?

Certainly, I've always been this way,

A patched-up, crazy matryoshka

Harry was tired of hiding from the truth. He enjoyed entertaining the idea that the Chosen One had maybe existed once upon a time, and was just gone now. He enjoyed thinking that maybe, just maybe, there would be a way to bring said Chosen One back and then people would be happy again. But he knew the truth; the Chosen One never existed. There was only Harry, who was tired of pretending to be something he wasn't.

Therefore, he decided that he had the right to stop letting himself be called the Chosen One, the Boy-Who-Lived, and other nicknames that had come about because of his supposed amazing defeat of the Dark Lord Voldemort when he was only a little over a year old. Was there no-one that just wanted to know him, to enjoy just being around him?

No, of course there wasn't; they all thought that they would be able to survive because of him. That their precious little world would be safe after he died for them as he tried to kill Voldemort, who had resurrected even after being supposedly 'defeated' by the Chosen One.

A package sung from a headache

Time may pass, but the hands are at 4

Don't tell anyone;

The world will turn upside-down

If Harry were to, say, disappear off the face of the earth, no person would care that he had left; they would care only for the loss of their Savior. Only for the loss of their freedom, only for their own losses. There was only one person who truly cared for Harry enough to mourn for the loss of him when he was gone, and that person had fallen through the Veil at the Department of Mysteries and was dead.

Maybe I should up and leave, Harry thought numbly, just so I could watch the panic that the world would dissolve into. He gave a crazed smile and then went back to his stitching. He'd sliced open his arm not an hour before. He just found himself wanting to feel something, anything, even if it was pain. Harry even enjoyed the feeling of the needle and thread slipping in and out of the jagged sides of the wound-

-still not enough. Harry frowned. No, there wasn't enough sensation in the simple action of stitching a wound. Harry tied off the string and then bit the end of with his teeth, the cut only half-stitched and still dripping blood steadily onto the dusty floor.

He'd forced all the Order Members out of the house after Sirius had died; the property belonged to him, given to him by Sirius in his will. Harry didn't exactly know how it worked, but after he'd said aloud, to a roomful of incredulous Order Members, that he'd inherited the property, everyone that he'd wanted out were suddenly outside the house, and Harry was alone with his owl, Hedwig.

Ah, I feel broken apart

Throw out all your memories, too

Ah, how I want to know,

To the deep down

Harry was glad that Vernon and Dudley had never gotten their fat, grubby hands on Hedwig. They'd tried several times after they heard that Sirius had died, because they thought they were untouchable now. There was no crazy mass-murderer out to get them if they mistreated Harry, and the little freak was nowhere near strong enough to fight back, anyway. How wrong they had been…but they were dead now, so it didn't matter. Everything they had done was in the past now-

-but the scars had remained. The scars all over Harry's body. Some thin, straight lines, others huge, puckered, jagged affairs; the word 'FREAK' carved into the soft flesh of his left shoulder blade, and marks from a whip biting into his lower back criss-crossing and overlapping many times. There was also another unique scar on the inside of Harry's right thigh: a burn scar that had come about when Harry had tried to get out of pleasuring Vernon, who had tied the boy to his small bed and heated a knife almost to its melting point before pressing it to Harry's previously unmarked creamy flesh, making the boy shriek in pain.

Harry snagged one of the finished stitches between his fingers and pulled as hard as he could, ripping it viciously from the skin that was trying to heal with aid from his magic. New waves of agony ripped through his arm like a thousand needles. Fresh blood dripped to the floor and his eyes watered in pain, but he made no sound.

"Why do you do that?" Harry turned with bleary eyes to the source of the voice. A very handsome man, with long dark hair pulled into a high ponytail and glowing wine-red eyes, stood at the other side of the room. His pale face was concerned.

"Because I don't know what else to do," Harry replied, plucking at the edges of his skin when the pain started to dim. Long fingers caught his hand and pulled it away from the gash.

"Stop." The man commanded softly. "If you're not careful, you could kill yourself."

Amazing, Harry thought in wonder, it's almost as if he cares about me-

-but he probably doesn't.

Harry ripped his hand away from the other man's and his emerald eyes hardened. "And if I want to kill myself? Would you mourn for your Savior? Your Chosen One? Your Boy-Who-Lived?"

"I would mourn for Harry James Potter, son of James and Lily Potter, who died trying to protect the most precious thing in the world to them- you. I would mourn for the sad, broken little boy who has too much pain in his eyes. I would mourn for the child who had to grow up too quickly." The man said, taking Harry's hand back in his. He stared into the bright green eyes that had lost their hardness and were now swirling with insanity.

The man bent for ward and captured Harry's surprised lips in a sweet kiss before releasing Harry's hand and wrapping the teen in his arms.

Harry broke down.

Um, well…

If you please, dance more and more!

Kalinka? Malinka?

Just play the chord

What should I do about such feelings?

Can't you tell me? Just a little?

Harry couldn't stop thinking. There was someone who made him feel like he was alive again. That kiss…so much warmth and…tingly-ness. He could feel again. There was sensation again. He barely registered that he was sobbing uncontrollably and slumping into the man's soft embrace.

He knew from the second he saw him that the man was Tom Marvolo Riddle Jr., the same teenager that had been in the Chamber of Secrets and tried to kill him. But then why did he feel so safe? Did his subconscious know something he didn't? And why didn't it bother him that Tom had just kissed him on his face? Why wasn't he freaking out?

Was it because that kiss had just felt so…right that he hadn't wanted to get upset over it? It was like…that had been what he had been waiting for. Now he could just let the emotions pour out.

Loud and clear, 5-2-4

Feloid? Keloid?

Just hit the key

Everything, all's to be laughed at

Hurry, dance with all your foolishness!

Tom let him cry for a bit before taking him from the house. Harry didn't know exactly how he'd gotten in; there were rather strong wards and charms placed on the outside. Harry wondered if it had anything to do with him inheriting the house, but didn't dwell on it too much.

The odd pair disappeared with a small pop of apparation and appeared in what seemed to be an entryway. By this time, Harry was done sobbing and instead looked around with broken green eyes, his small fingers clutching Tom's robes as if they were the only thing in the world that were solid.

Tom held him tighter and began walking through the hall quickly and easily, as if he held nothing in his arms at all. Harry supposed that that was what it would be like to carry him; he had gotten so thin because he refused to eat that now he must just be a big bag of bones.

Tom finally walked through one final doorway and into a large bedroom. "Sleep." He murmured to Harry, whose eyes were already drooping. "We can speak in the morning. What you need for now is a good rest."

Harry was a sleep in Tom's arms before he was even set down on the huge, squishy bed, and slept without nightmares for the entire night and most of the next morning.

Clap your hands, not entirely childish,

And watch, to this purposefully-crazed tune

Certainly, I don't care either way

The warmth of the world is melting away

The next day brought odd things, in Harry's opinion. He and Tom had breakfast at a small table in a very grand-looking kitchen. There was no tension between the two of them. It was as if they had been together all of their lives. They had endless things to talk about; Quidditch, politics, the war…

The next few days, actually, brought odd things. Tom had been bold one evening and declared that Harry was his consort, before engaging the teen in a long and passionate kiss that made said teen lightheaded and dizzy. Tom was very happy when he realized that Harry wasn't going to deny him the honor of having such an exquisite wizard as his consort, and that happiness lead to more kissing and something that made stars explode behind Harry's eyelids. It had never happened when his uncle had touched him there before…But maybe it was because Tom was being gentle, or maybe because he didn't force Harry to go any farther than he felt comfortable with.

Tom discovered that Harry has suspected that Dumbledore had been manipulating him all of his life since his first year at Hogwarts. Tom then suggested that the two of them track down Dumbledore and end his pathetic life; release his soul from its horridly wrinkled casing and allow it to follow his lover's - Gellert Grindelwald's - to Hell, where it belonged.

Harry had given his head a sad little shake and muttered under his breath, "He doesn't deserve death. Death would be a mercy."

"Then why don't we keep him as a pet? A few lengthy Crucios and he'll be just a mindless little animal. We could even get him a collar!" Tom had exclaimed happily.

Harry shook his head again. "No. That, as well, would be too merciful for the likes of him. The pet of a powerful Dark Lord and his consort? No. We should just throw him in the dungeons and let the Death Eaters have their way with him. I expect that Severus and Lucius, at least have a bone to pick with him."

Tom, secretly thrilled that Harry had called himself his consort, nodded and grinned a wolfish grin at Harry. "You have the best ideas, you know that?"

"I've often thought it quietly and to myself, but it's nice to hear, yes." Harry murmured, taking a bite of his chicken.

Tom was feeling very jealous when Harry's plump, blood-red lips wrapped around his fork as he ate. He decided to ignore it for the time being; he didn't want to push Harry into anything that would upset him or cause him to be frightened or dredge up old wounds.

Instead, Tom kept kissing Harry at any opportunity he got and sometimes pleasured him. Just bringing his consort to his climax could make Tom come undone.

You and me, rendezvous?

Rendezvous? Rendezvous?

Oh, or out on a hopping adventure?

With a crooked gait, one-two, one-two

Several days later, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Luna Lovegood, Lavender Brown, Ginny Weasley, and Albus Dumbledore all found themselves in a rather dark and damp place; the dungeons in Riddle Manor. In addition to their horrible situations, all were in different cells. That is, of course, except for Hermione and Luna.

Dumbledore was outraged; he'd been only a couple of minutes away from gaining the blood sample from Madame Pomfrey that would allow him to perform a tracking spell on Harry Potter! He didn't have time to be bothered with getting captured!

In the next cell over, Ronald Weasley was having trouble not crying. Dumbledore had promised that he and his family were going to be safe from all of this drama after Sirius died and Harry would be under Dumbledore's control again - why wasn't it so? What had happened along the way? Was it the fact that they were taking money from Potter's accounts? Did someone find out?

Ginny Weasley was in much the same state, except that she was wishing for her lover Lavender to comfort her. She pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her head on them as she sat on the cold, dark stone ground.

Lavender was just confused. She didn't remember anything that she could've done to cause this to happen to her; she was always a very nice person and she didn't make fun of anyone very much. She'd only made the mistake of kissing a boy once - Ron Weasley - and then decided she preferred the fairer flesh instead, and she'd never had sex because she was underage. What happened, then, to land her in this situation? Did she have a stalker?

Hermione was a sobbing mess in hers and Luna's cell. Luna held her lover gently and stroked her hair as she explained that the 'Snarkles' were finally taking their revenge on the 'Snorkacks.' Hermione didn't understand, but it was comforting.

Luna was mildly irritated that Harry had just captured them without explaining anything to them, and as a result she had to keep Hermione from breaking down completely, but understood that there was a good reason for it. She mentally shrugged and held Hermione a little bit tighter.

Ah, I'm so pissed!

Catch me before I blow.

Ah, with both your hands

Catch me for me

The prisoners received two visitors the next day. It was a young man who looked as if he was in his late teens. He wore his long, black hair up in a high ponytail and he had lovely bright red eyes. Beside him walked a slightly shorter figure who wore a cloak that covered him and his face.

The prisoners were all taken from their cells and chained to chairs in the same room for the duration of the visitors' stay.

"Do you know why you're here?" The tall one asked the prisoners lightly, wrapping his arm around the shorter one's shoulders and pulling him closer.

There was a murmur of 'no' from the six of them, and a few of them shook their heads slightly. Tom grimaced.

"You shall answer me in clear, concise words, and not mumble!" Tom roared, taking his wand from his robes and brandishing it at the prisoners, who flinched and cringed against their chairs.

"Who are you? Why are you keeping us here?" Ron yelled. He strained against the chains on his chair and tried to get up, but to no avail.

"My name is Tom Riddle. But the majority of you will know me by my nom de guerre: Voldemort." Tom easily ignored the startled gasp that came from five out of six of his prisoners, and continued speaking. "And you are here because you have hurt something very precious to me. Well, two of you are innocent in the matter and I apologize greatly to you for even capturing you in the first place," he looked pointedly at Luna and Hermione, whose chairs were closer together than any of the other four, "but it was a measure that I had to take to get you here."

Luna bowed her head once and offered a slight smile to the figure standing next to Tom. "It's good to see you again, Harry. The Nargles told me that you were with someone who cared deeply for you, and now I see that that's true. I'm glad."

Harry lowered his hood. "Luna. I trust you've been well. The Snorkacks haven't been causing you trouble, have they?"

"No trouble at all, Harry." Luna assured. She was happy that Harry was finally where he needed to be. Even if the rest of the world crumbled around her, she knew that she'd done her part and that the gods of the world that was soon to come were together at last.

Um, well

Listen a little - it's something important

Kalinka? Malinka?

Just make me feel pain.

It's just that I can't control myself

Should we do more fantastic things?

"Harry? Is that really you?"

"Harry, move away from him, quickly! He's dangerous!"

"Harry? But what…"

"My boy, you have to listen to me; he must have you under some kind of spell! Get away from him as quick as you can! I'll find a way out of here somehow, I promise!"

As Dumbledore's last words faded into the darkness of the dungeon, Harry's laugh became known. It was quiet at first, but got gradually louder and louder until it was an insane giggle that chilled the heart of even Voldemort himself. He continued to laugh until he was breathless and had to rest his hands on his knees.

His crazed grin was turned off instantly. "You will regret not holding your tongues, you filthy worms!" He spat. "This man saved me from myself, which is more than I can say for you, you wretches!"

Among the seven pairs of eyes that had laid themselves upon his short but still menacing form, only two pairs were unsurprised at his actions, and they belonged to Luna and Tom. Luna spared a glance over at Hermione, who looked on with shock, fear, and slight disgust. Luna's mood immediately worsened. This could spell bad things.

"Lying to me…deceiving me…making me think that you actually cared about me…or believed in me…when I was so broken already! Now, in light of recent events, I realize that you caused me to become shattered beyond repair!" Harry ended with a giggle. It was turned off again in an instant. "Well, it doesn't matter anyway. The pieces were so badly put back together that they'll stay that way forever, and there's nothing anybody can do about it.

"It's not often anymore that I feel the nothingness, because when Tom first kissed me it all went away…all the empty numbness…" Harry's eyes clouded and it was obvious that he went somewhere far away. "And then I could feel again…and everything was okay…" Tiny tears formed at the corners of his eyes. Tom noticed them and put his arm around Harry's shoulders again before pulling him into a tight embrace. Harry sighed and relaxed as his love wiped the crystal-like droplets from his face and kissed both of his eyelids gently.

"Why don't you go sit down? You've had such a stressful day already. Let me handle the rest…" Tom suggested quietly. Harry nodded and Tom maneuvered him over to a huge, cushy leather chair that had definitely not been there several minutes ago, where he relaxed slightly. Tom left him with a gentle kiss on the lips and turned back to his prisoners with a sneer on his face.

Pain, hurt, but no, don't cry

Parade? Marade?

Just clap some more

Wait, you say, wait, wait!

Before we drop to just one

"Now," Tom began, clasping his pale hands behind his back and pacing back and forth in front of the five teens and one old man, "some of you will have a choice, per the request of my Harry."

"What kind of choice, Tom?" Albus asked in a defeated tone. His face showed signs of tiredness, even more so than usual, and his eyes had lost their twinkle.

Tom was immediately outraged, and his expression showed it. He brandished his wand at Dumbledore again, dangerously close to his throat, and snarled, "Only my Harry is allowed to call me that. Voldemort is the title that I demand from you, Old Man!"

Tom took a few moments to compose himself before gritting his teeth and lowering his wand. He stepped back from where he'd lunged forward to threaten the elder wizard.

"As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, some of you shall have a choice. If I had been able to finish, you would've heard that Albus Dumbledore will not be receiving this choice, nor will Ronald Weasley. So you two can keep your mouths shut!" Tom hissed, waving his wand angrily at the two who did not have the option to choose life or death, and cast a silencing charm on both of them. "Madams Weasley, Granger, Lovegood, and Brown, you shall all have an option here. You can die with the thought that you died for your own cause, or you can live with the guilt of leaving your friends and allies to rot. Only one of you will live, if you so choose. If more than one of you wishes to live, we shall have contest to select the victor."

Tom watched with disgust as Ginny's eyes filled with hope. It was obvious that she'd thought she'd been doomed…and now that the opportunity had arisen, she was eager to abandon her friends and what she'd stood for almost all of her life. Harry, from a few yards away, closed his eyes and shook his head sadly.

"Lord Voldemort, sir?" Hermione asked in a small voice. Tom's red eyes flickered over to her and she flinched. "Would the one who lived…have to serve you, as one of your Death Eaters?"

Tom actually looked remorseful as he took in her question. "Yes, my dear. The one who lived would stand by my side as a loyal follower."

Hermione's eyes clouded with tears, though her voice was calm, "Then, Lord Voldemort, I chose not to live."

Luna felt as if someone had stabbed her in the chest, but smiled gently anyway. She stayed silent, though, as Voldemort asked Lavender and then Ginny what they would choose. Lavender, who was still confused and scared, chose to die with Hermione rather than live as someone who had betrayed everything she'd ever known.

Ginny was a different story. She had pleaded to Tom to let her be the one to live; she even went so far as to denounce her loyalties to the Light, much to Ron's and Dumbledore's silent outrage. She also claimed that she had never loved Lavender and was willing to kill her herself. Tom was so disgusted that he'd silenced her as well, and casually informed her that she would die a most painful death at the hands of Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini.

And then Tom turned his wine-colored eyes on Luna, who bowed her head slightly and spoke. "You know where my true loyalties lie, Lord Voldemort. I would gladly follow Harry to the ends of the earth if only it meant he was happy. But," Luna paused for a second, trying to clear her throat of the lump that had formed in it, "my Hermione has chosen to stop living on this earth, and I must follow her. I simply cannot live in a world where she does not exist."

Tom's lips turned up in the ghost of a smile. "I understand. Your death, along with Ms. Granger's and Ms. Brown's, will be as painless as I can possibly manage."

"Thank you, sir." Luna said. "If you could, I'd like to have a moment with Hermione before we die."

"By all means." Tom said, waving his wand. The chains on the two of them loosened, and fell away completely.

"L-Lord V-Voldemort?" Lavender asked, shaking like a leaf. She was staring over at Ginny, who still struggled and tried to escape, while shouting angrily under the silencing charm. "C-Could I…could I be unchained as well? I'd like to say goodbye to Ginny."

Tom raised an eyebrow. "Why would you want to do that? She said that she never loved you and was willing to kill you just to save her own skin!"

Lavender winced. "I know…I know that she's not the best of people, but…regardless of what she said, I still love her, and I would like to say goodbye to her. You don't even have to unchain her, just…"

Tom still seemed upset by the entire ordeal, but waved his wand and freed Lavender from her chains, who got up and immediately walked the short distance over to Ginny on wobbly legs and promptly collapsed in front of her, silent tears streaming down her face as she spoke in hushed tones.

Luna was comforting a sobbing Hermione, smoothing her hair every now and then and placing tiny kisses on her damp face.

"Harry, I hope you understand." Luna said softly, staring over at the raven-haired boy who still sat on the huge armchair. He nodded his head and averted his eyes as Luna and Hermione shared a final goodbye kiss.

Harry stared over at Ginny and Lavender. He understood them, too. Ginny had declared that she hadn't ever loved Lavender, but Lavender was so infatuated with Ginny that she didn't care what Ginny thought. He figured it was the same way that Harry would be if the same thing had happened to Tom and himself. He would just keep loving Tom, no matter what he did or said or threatened to say or do.

You and I bed in between

You and I fall to Hell (Let's rendezvous!)

Sweet loving, fly to heaven

Stagger into Votoka, a-deen, dva!

There were four flashes of bright green light; the Weasley boy hadn't done anything so extreme as to merit the kind of torture that would await Dumbledore and Ginny. Still, he died with a look of betrayal on his face, as if he hadn't been expecting karma to kick his ass for lying to and deceiving her favorite magical being.

Luna's and Hermione's bodies were both collected carefully and cleaned up. They were then buried together in a magnificently-sculpted white marble tomb in the Forbidden Forest, where unicorns and Crumple-Horned Snorkacks were abundant to watch over them as they slept eternally, wrapped in each other's arms.

Lavender's body was sent back to her parents.

Ginny and Dumbledore were carefully locked up back in their cells with a meager portion of food for dinner, and told that, "The fun will begin in the morning." Both of them knew what that meant, and neither of them could sleep that night.

Tom and Harry retreated to the upstairs of the manor for their own dinner, which was served by a volley of house elves that all seemed very happy to be serving such powerful wizards, before retiring to their bedroom for the evening.

"I'm sorry it turned out like that," Tom admitted as he helped Harry slip his shirt off, "I know that you wanted Luna to be here, at least."

"It's alright. I understand why she did what she did." Harry sighed. "I'm glad she at least got to die with the one she loved." He shamelessly removed his trousers and boxer shorts and meandered over to the wardrobe where he picked out a pair of pajama bottoms and slipped into them.

Tom watched him with an odd glint in his red eyes. "Ahem. Harry, love, are you quite tired at the moment?"

Harry raised a black eyebrow. "Not particularly. Why do you ask?"

"I was hoping we could get some…things done." Tom said, snatching Harry's hand and placing a kiss on the top of it before pulling him gently over to the bed.

Down with a sickness?

Show me your song!

See how today…

I'm still a patched-up, crazy matryoshka!

"What do you mean?" Harry asked as he was pushed backwards onto the soft mattress.

The Dark Lord crawled over him, letting his weight rest on his arms and knees. "I know it sounds extremely cheesy," Tom began, "but I really enjoy being around you. I really love you, Harry. And I hope you love me, too."

"I do love you." Harry murmured, bringing his hand up to stroke Tom's cheek. The skin was very soft and pale under the slight pressure of his fingertips.

"Then…if you love me…will you trust me completely?" Tom asked, placing his hand over Harry's on his face. "Will you trust me not to hurt you intentionally?"

"I do trust you. And I know you'd never hurt me on purpose." Harry affirmed.

"Will you let me see all of you? Will you let me know you, down to the very last scraps of your patched-up soul?"

"Yes."

"Then just follow along as best you can. You might want to find something to hold on to."

Scarred, pale limbs wrapping around broad shoulders-

-the gentle 'swish' of silk being removed…

…warm, trembling hands exploring flesh for the first time…

("On the contrary")

If you please, dance more and more ("Hey, I liked the feeling, alright?")

Kalinka? Malinka? ("Are you okay?")

Just play the chord ("Yeah, I'm alright.")

What should I do about such feelings? ("No problems")

Cant you tell me? Just a little?

Muscles stretching, lungs losing their oxygen harshly…

…panting, thrusting, groaning…

…two voices, crying out in desperation for the same thing…

Loud and clear, 524

Feloid, Keloid?

Just hit the key!

Everything, all's to be laughed at!

Hurry, and dance no longer!

Harry smiled softly as Tom stroked his sweaty hair. "I really do love you, you know."

"I know. I feel the same. I guess…I always have." Tom kissed his swollen red lips gently and pulled Harry even closer to him as the two fell into a deep sleep.

I want to learn; I want to learn.

There is a blank at the end

It moves me as soon as you move

alternating harmonies.

Many days later, as Tom and Harry discovered even more about each other, the Light of the Wizarding World fell and the two rulers of the new world launched an assault on the muggles.

They struck during the nighttime, when the foolish non-magical folk were all snug in their beds, dreaming of a bright tomorrow for their people that would never come.

They had never expected to be attacked by a secret society of magical people who knew more ways to kill a man than the best assassins in the universe combined.

"The Death Eaters struck in the nighttime," Harry mused one day as he sat upon his gilded throne, next to his love, "One day, that will be the title of a well-known history book used in schools across the entire world. Translated into hundreds of languages…"

"We could do anything we want to, now." Tom said, standing from his own throne and holding his hand out to Harry, who graciously took it and stood. Tom pulled Harry into his arms and whirled him around once in an odd dance. "I know that July 31st shall forever be a holiday in this new world of ours."

"And so shall December 31st," Harry murmured. Tom noticed that his green eyes seemed a little less broken as he said it. "For that is the day that my lovely Lord was gifted to this world, and thus into the stream of time that would cross his path with mine."

Oh Kiss me kiss me in this world

Can we not get enough time to talk?

Warping, stopping, I'm fine, but don't mind.

Your language is dirty.

And several years later, when the muggles rebelled and the two lovers slaughtered them all…

…they looked upon the world, the destruction and chaos that they had created, and they laughed and smiled and kissed at and with each other.

They spoke the ancient language of the snakes and serpents and ruled over their dark chaos and they killed all those who stood in their way.

And the entire world found itself laughing at its madness, and eventually the sun grew too hot and all the people fried, cackling loudly. Not even their magic could save them from the bright, glowing ball of fiery warmth that betrayed the people and their leaders, who's souls both fell into nothingness.

And sometime in the future, there were born two babies. One with bright red eyes and the other with green ones that swirled with lines upon broken lines of insanity.

You're making me sore

Goodbye the hand, spilling water.

Scattering the once together puzzle pieces of the Matryoshka

With the love, our bodies sensitive,

Yes, yes,

5-2-4

A/N: Okay! It was a rather random oneshot, I know, but it was about 12:32 in the morning when I wrote it, so I think I have merit to be a little tiny bit not-making-sense right now. Kay? Kay.

A review for me would be nice. Preferable, even. If you don't, then I know you secretly enjoyed the oneshot and you're just embarrassed because it's a little darker than what you would expect. (At least I think it its ;))

Thanks for reading! I've only had one real incident with this story so far, and that is my one flamer: "Irritated" You didn't sign in, and I had a complaint about the rant being put at the beginning, so I'll put it here for those who wish to read it and maybe have a little bit of sympathy for me (Just kidding XD)

Shout-Out for Guest Flamer "Irritated":

Here is the 'review' in its entirety:

Songfic essentially makes it impossible to read any piece of fiction. Yes, yes - we all realise that the song was INCREDIBLY MEANINGFUL to you while you were writing but, you know what? - it's meaningful ONLY to you and to everyone else it's just an annoying bit of tripe they have to mentally skip over in order to get anything at all out of your story. Why do you need to put some trite little lyrics in there at all?! Can't you just sing them in your head instead of forcing others to have to read them?! Songfics always give the impression that the author is about fifteen and likes to think of themselves as angsty and intense. I am going to go back to the start; copy paste everything into word, remove the stupid lyrics and attempt to give your writing the benefit of the doubt. Who knows?! Perhaps you actually can write and you're merely hobbled by your own self absorption.

Hello! I would've talked to you nicely and explained calmly if you'd logged in and insulted me, but since you were too much of a pussy to do that, I'll reply to you here, in front of everybody who reads this songfic. I understand that not all people like songfics, I really do. I also understand that not everybody likes slash. If you hadn't noticed, it's the same principle. I still write slash and songfics anyway, and if you have a problem with that, then you don't have to read this. I never made you read this. If you had wanted me to post a version that didn't have the lyrics, you could've asked nicely instead of saying that you'll copy my work, remove the lyrics, and then read it. It's not that hard to just take lyrics out of a piece, you know. I could've easily done it for you.

As an author, I enjoy making people happy and the fact that you're not happy makes me upset with myself, I'm not going to lie. If your review had had a little bit of constructive-ness to it, then I would've been thankful, but because you basically insulted this piece of writing simply because it is a songfic, I'm rather angry. I really like my writing, and I think of it as my baby often. You know how people get defensive over their babies.

Just so you know, the lyrics are there for people that dont want to listen to the song. And if you hadn't noticed, the lyrics of the song actually do tie into the story. I'm sorry if this makes you angry or "irritated" (ha, ha. pun) but that's the way that I wrote the story, and therefore that's the way it's supposed to be presented and read. And yes, for your information, I can sing the song in my head. I can even sing the extremely fast rap at the end. (No small feat, I assure you.) I don't THINK I'm angsty and intense, I mean, I wasn't the last time I checked. The thing is, I often bottle up my emotions that I get from real life and express them here on fanfiction, hence the extremely dark fics and ficlets.

Thank you very much for reading and reviewing, "Irritated"! I hope that next time, you'll bother somebody else with your opinions, because they aren't welcome here.

Ha, sorry about that little rant. I can't stand flamers, can you? Please have a lovely day, and I'll see you at my next work of literature! Bai! ~M.M.