Beta: Flava Sava

The sun shone brightly that morning.

Harry sported his all-knowing smirk as he skipped into town. People looked at him with their usual loathing expressions, and he merely whistled in a happy tune. They could not bring him down.

Today was when he would get the ball rolling. He would carry out his plan for the bitch, and then get ready for the next step and then the next, until Tom was in his arms. He sighed in jubilation as he scanned over the town in search of his target.

Was there ever a time he felt as happy as he felt now? He pondered for a second before he came up blank. No, there wasn't. He had to admit that was a little pathetic on his part, but that knowledge just fueled his desire to off the bitch.

He looked around at the many houses and stores. They all looked the same to him. Not a blade of grass was out of place; no smudges on the windows.

Moments later he spotted her at a food vendor. They were located at the side of the narrow road all the food vendors were at.

A grimace contorted on his face when he saw her next to Tom. The hairs on the back of his neck stood. He took a deep breath to calm the dark thoughts that crept into his mind. He wanted to run at her and attack like a mad animal—take her down right there. Unfortunately he probably wouldn't get far. The townspeople would throw him into jail or burn him at the stake. He didn't feel like becoming nothing more than burnt flesh. Harry got a grip over his rage that Tom's constant touching kindled. Was all that touching really necessary? He imagined himself in her place. He smiled and realized it was necessary. Completely, if not absolutely, necessary.

"Tomatoes only a bronze coin!" one of the street vendors said. Many of the other ones yelled out similar offers. He ignored the yelling and continued on his way towards the couple. He didn't approach them, but he got close enough to hear their conversation. He needed to know when the bitch would be alone; when he could strike.

"Watch out boy!" an older man yelled from his side. He noticed that he had stepped on the man's shoe. He muttered an apology before he went to the booth next to theirs.

"...Isn't that amazing?!"

"Yes dear. Is the event tonight?" Tom asked in a tired voice. Harry felt sorry for his dear. He had to continually listen to the girl babble about pointless things.

Don't worry Tom, I'll rescue you, he thought. He would most definitely keep his promise.

"Yeah, Victoria invited all the girls from town. I'm sorry we can't spend that time together this evening, but it isn't every day that Victoria has a girls-only party."

"I guess you're right..." Tom mumbled, glancing over at the boxes of the booth they stood by.

"Cheer up, my dear. I have a little surprise for you later in the night, if you're up for it." He twitched at her nickname for Tom. She just loved stealing things from him, didn't she?

"Are we going to...?" Tom trailed.

Harry saw her smile coyly at Tom. She would not just die. Her demise would be painful and slow. He would show her what a true surprise was.

He looked back at the goods that were out on display.

"I'll have a box of the fish and vegetables." He decided to get fish over the beef or sheep. Harry saw Tom eating fish more than any other meat. A faux smile appeared on his lips.

With the box of his purchases in his hands, Harry returned home. He spent his day plotting, and returned to town near a deserted street corner as the sun was finally behind the horizon.

He waited for his prey in the silence of a dark alleyway. Harry remained hidden until the sound of shoes clicking on cobblestones permeated the still of the night. There was no doubt it was her. This was the only way she came to go to the other part of town.

The sound approached and the light from the moon illuminated her carefree form. It was as if she couldn't sense her inevitable demise. Could she not feel death at her back?

He emerged from the shadows into view and she jumped in surprise.

"...Harry, what a surprise. Didn't expect to see you out here. You scared me."

He tilted his head and then moved quickly to immobilize her. He slipped behind her before he put a powdery substance up to her nostrils. She fell limp after a moment.

She hardly struggled.

Maybe she did feel the angel of death at her back. Perhaps that's why hopelessness pooled in her eyes. Did she foresee what would happen? Was she able to see her impending doom in his eyes? Nonetheless he grabbed her body and hoisted her onto his shoulder.

He ran back to his house and threw the door open, feeling accomplished. Harry dragged her to the table he already set up. When he had her strapped on, he grabbed the cinnamon from beside her. He then put its spicy aroma under her nose and she surged up from the table. Well she tried to. The rope cuffs held her in place and would eventually chafe her hands and feet. Red marks appeared on her pale ivory skin as she kept moving. She looked around with fear across her features. She almost looked surprised. Did she not see her judgment in his eyes?

"Bellatrix, how nice of you to join me. If I had tea I would offer you some." Harry chuckled at his own joke.

"Where am I? Why am I here?" Her voice was a little shaky as she struggled to summon enough courage to speak. Harry resisted the urge to end her right there. She was nothing but a pathetic mass of quivering flesh. He gritted his teeth, annoyed. This was his competition? He wrinkled his nose in distaste.

"Seeing as I've got a potion to finish, I guess I'll cut the talk." Unfurling his fist, his hand slid to good sized knife on the chair next to her table. Harry's hand clenched around the handle and brought it to her unmarked flesh. His other hand cupped her mouth to ensure her silence. He made sure anything above her bosom was unmarked. He sliced into her flesh until all traces of her ivory skin was removed. Her screams were muffled as he went. Each slash and scream that followed made him deliriously happy. When she decided to bite his hand, he smacked her face and sneered in her direction.

After a moment of her keeping still, he realized she was at her end. He uncovered her mouth and spread his arms wide in a sweeping gesture.

"You have taken something very important from me, and you won't be forgiven. You'll be my present for my dear, Tom. He was always fond of your looks; maybe your head would be a gift." Her eyes widened but the faraway look started to pool in the depths. He hurried his speech. "Before you die, know this: he shall never dwell on you again." His demented laughter filled the house. The light in her eyes flickered out and he ceased his laughter.

"Good riddance," he said, and started cutting everything above her blossom off. When he was through, he threw it into an old box he found in the attic. Blood was everywhere but he didn't care. He wrapped the box nicely with colorful ribbon.

Her screams echoed in his mind, loud and so very clear. His smile almost hurt his face. Harry's eyes reflected every emotion he felt into his black heart, in his torn soul. Joy, excitement, longing, desire; he felt everything but guilt. For he truly believed himself justified for everything he was about to do.

A loud knock at the door alerted Tom to a visitor's presence. He hoped it was Bellatrix. She promised him a "surprise," and he was almost a 100% sure it was her virginity. His heart started to fill with the love he felt for her. Tom really wanted them to be together forever. That basis alone prompted Tom to propose to her in the first place. Other suitors lined up for her hand and he didn't want to lose her.

The longing to see her beautiful face fueled the desire to get to the door fast. He opened the door to find no one there. He glanced around and realized only a box sat on his front door.

It was wrapped with bright green ribbon. He picked it up with a smile on his face curious if this was the surprise Bellatrix was talking about. He unwrapped it and slowly opened it. Bellatrix's dull eyes greeted him.

He froze, smile fading from his face. Tom dropped the box and let out a scream. Only the wildlife outside witnessed his sorrow.

For the next two days, it would be a lie to say that Harry did not feel bad for his dear's grief. He did not feel bad for the reason but for the mere fact that Tom was hurting. Harry decided to hurry his plans in order to save Tom from the clutches of the once alive Bellatrix.

He knew Tom would be either at his manor or at the only tavern in this town; most likely drinking away his sorrows. Harry found such things weak, but he made an exception for Tom. Bellatrix still had her grimy hands into Tom's mind so deep it made him act this way. It forced him to act this way.

Rage pulsed throughout him.

Harry was relieved that Bellatrix's influence was stopped before it could do further damage. The anger subsided and he was left with pity for Tom. He was the victim. All Harry wanted to do was help him. Help his unfortunate Tom.

He ran his fingers through his semi-long black hair as he walked up to the tavern. As he peered inside and saw Tom at the bar ingesting a large quality of ale, Harry could tell he was already drunk by the imbalance of his posture. It would be easier now that he was drunk than when he was aware and sober.

He glanced around at the other patrons. They kept to themselves and didn't notice him in the slightest. That was a relief.

"One ale please," he said to the barman and sat down next to Tom, pretending not to notice him. Tom demanded another ale and Harry decided that this was his opportunity to start up a conversation. He did need a distraction in order to slip the potion into his drink.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked, feigning innocence.

"What do you mean?" Tom croaked out. His head moved to the side to gaze at him. His breath reeked of ale.

"You look like your drinking yourself to death." By this point the barman handed them their drinks. He smiled and muttered his thanks.

"So? Many o-other p-people do the same thing." Tom took a gulp of his drink. Harry scanned the area to see if anyone else was watching him. They weren't, and so he gripped the vial for when Tom would look the other way. The opportunity presented itself a few moments later when Tom fell from his chair. Harry scrambled to catch him and Tom's face touched his chest. He couldn't dwell on that fact for long as he helped Tom back onto his stool before he poured the substance in. He looked around once again and seeing the coast was still clear. Harry took a deep breath and exhaled in relief as he sat back down on his stool.

Tom reached for his drink and gulped the rest."I'm gonna go now," he slurred.

Harry jumped up and offered to take him home.

"No, no I'm alright."

"You'll hurt yourself. Let me take you home," Harry pushed. After a moment Tom relented. He slung Tom's arm over his neck and started to walk him out of the tavern.

The feel of his arm around his neck sent warmth throughout his body. Harry curled his toes in delight. Tom felt amazing and he was anxious to complete the potion. One little kiss was all it took. All it took until Tom was his.

The suspense was eating away at him and he started to briskly walk. Before he knew it, he had arrived at the manor. Harry gripped the door handle.

"Where's the key?" Harry asked as Tom slumped against the door.

"In my coat pocket," he mumbled. Harry felt around on both sides until he felt the metal key with his fingers. He unlocked the door and pushed it open, pulling Tom after him inside.

"Bedroom?" he asked as he shut the door behind them.

"Upstairs down the hallway."

Harry hauled the drunken Tom upstairs until he was at the bedroom door. He opened the door and walked Tom over to the bed. "Before I go..."

He paused in uncertainty, before he pulled the slightly older man into a kiss. It started out chaste, but grew when Harry bit Tom's lips for entrance. Tom remained solid through the whole encounter until Harry flicked his tongue over the other man's tongue. The kiss turned into a battle for dominance until they came apart for air.

Harry looked into Tom's eyes and realized the man had sobered more since the beginning of the kiss. He hoped Tom would remember their first kiss, but considering the amount of ale he had consumed, he realized that probably wasn't an option.

Oh well, at least there would be many more where that came from. He stepped out of Tom's grasp, leaving him in his room. Harry descended the stairs, left the manor (with the door closed firmly behind him), and headed home. On the way, he found himself whistling for the second time that week. It was more than he could ever recall in his life time.

Life was good.