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“I wouldn’t have missed this for the world, Professor,” Riddle said smoothly, taking a sip from his champagne.
“Now, Tom, we both know that you wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to snog a pretty girl like Bellatrix instead of entertaining the little old me,” the man replied and also took a healthy swig from his wine glass, reddening on the face even more.
“Professor Slughorn, Mister Sanguini requires your presence,” a third year boy with straw coloured hair said, bowing to the teacher slightly.
“Ah, right you are, Barty,” the potions master chuckled again, swaying on his feet slightly. “Pass me a pumpkin pastry, would you?” The boy lifted the silver tray with snacks right up to Slughorn, eyeing the man warily.
Riddle was rather pleased with the interruption. The mere mention of him and Bellatrix Black being involved made his body shudder involuntarily. She was useful as a pretty face and a nonetheless fierce witch, but he never thought about becoming romantically entangled with her in any way. Her behaviour, although always aimed to please him, was more annoying than anything and she always seemed to turn up when she was least desired. Like right now.
“My Lord-“ she whispered in his ears and he had to blink a few times, the strong smell of her perfume made his eyes water. He had to resist an urge to scowl.
“Not here,” he hissed and narrowed his eyes in a warning. “Excuse me, Bellatrix, I need to go get a drink,” he added louder, turning away from her with all pretence of politeness.
Striding through the crowd of masked couples on the dance floor, he slipped on his own, securing it in place with a simple sticking spell. It was a smooth and shiny silver mask which shielded his eyes and half of his face from view. He blended in with the flowing mass of dancing bodies easily enough, vanishing from the sight of any of his persistent admirers and followers.
The music changed from the fast, upbeat song to a steadier, deep and sensuous rhythm. The crowd seemed to part easily before him, as if leading him to the one he wished to find.
A shimmering purple dress, blond hair… it had to be Luna Lovegood. Why did he have to dance with her, of all people? Although he had to admit, it was very much like him to choose someone unpopular and a bit odd as a partner. Half to avoid suspicion, half because he felt she was a kindred soul or something like that. Yes, he always liked to say such nonsense.
His deep green and gold mask was glistening in the low light, hiding his scar and his beautiful green eyes. Most of his face was hidden – Tom had made sure of that when he had it custom made – but he would never mistake another for him. Even if he had not known every inch of his lover’s face so well it vividly haunted his vision day and night, the small bite marks just under his collar were a complete giveaway.
The couple in front of him was spinning around slowly, not dancing too closely like some of the others around them. It was obvious they were not flirting or even remotely attracted to each other as anything more than friends. Then why did he feel such a powerful wave of jealousy? He wanted to twist her pale little arms until they snapped. He wanted to pull out all of her hair. Burn that shimmering dress. Why did he have to be surrounded by so many teachers and students, unable to act at once?
This simply would not do. Not at all.
Lord Voldemort does not share.
*
Luna smiled at Harry.
“It was lovely of you to ask me to the party, Harry,” she said dreamily, twirling around in his arms to the music. Her face was hidden behind a yellow and sparkly mask, but behind it, her eyes were staring at him, wide open. He always felt like she could see right through him.
“It’s my pleasure,” he replied politely, letting the corner of his lip lift up slightly. “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.”
They danced somewhat awkwardly for a bit, never getting too close to each other. Before the song even finished, Luna was pulled away for the next dance by a tall, somewhat bulky boy with a pale grey mask.
Harry’s stomach seemed to flip and clench dangerously when he realised that it was most likely Nott, an older Slytherin and one of his followers. They made the strangest couple ever, Luna dressed in a bright dress and walking with a skip in her step and Nott, stiffly following her lead with hunched shoulders as though he’d rather be anywhere else on the planet.
He wasn’t given time to go rescue Nott from his overly enthusiastic companion, when a pair of strong arms wrapped themselves around him from behind.
“Hello,” said a deep, soothing voice right in his ear. “Dance with me?”
Harry did not immediately turn around. He allowed himself to be pulled closer, feeling the soothing touch of his Horcrux in the ring hidden underneath his captor’s gloves. His familiar scent enveloped Harry and he smiled, finally turning around to face the man behind him.
His gaze fell upon the smooth, perfect lips of his lover which he had senselessly kissed in abandon all too long ago, during a few stolen moments in a broom cupboard. His body reacted to his lascivious thoughts accordingly and he pressed himself even closer to him, burying his face in the man’s loose black cloak.
“Tom,” he whispered, his voice trembling with need and grabbing onto his waist firmly. He heard his lover chuckle pleasantly.
“Missed me?” the Slytherin almost purred, letting his hands travel down Harry’s body and place themselves in the pockets of his trousers.
“Shut up!” he retorted in frustration. They never had the time to sneak out to meet anymore, not since Tom had made Head Boy at the start of the school year. Once every two weeks really wasn’t enough.
“Shh, love,” Tom whispered. “We can’t be recognised, remember?”
“I know,” Harry scowled into the dark material, but he knew his lover could tell anyway. He always did, somehow. Maybe it was another side effect of the scar he’d given Harry two years prior, when he stumbled into the girl’s bathroom on the second floor by accident. Tom tried to kill him, but the curse rebounded, seriously hurting them both. Harry was left with an odd, lightning shaped scar which seemed to act up whenever Tom was feeling extreme emotions. He also started to be able to speak Parseltongue and afterwards, Riddle trailed after him all the time to make sure he wouldn’t spill to any teachers about what he was doing and that he had tried to kill Harry. They had somehow fallen in love after that, initially driven by lust for each other, which then turned into something deeper when Tom came to save him from his abusive muggle uncle.
“Dance with me?” his lover asked, pulling Harry along as he moved to the slow music. It didn’t take long for the friction and heat of their movements to get the better of the younger male. He stopped abruptly, standing on the tips of his toes to be able to put his arms around Tom’s neck and kiss him.
The Slytherin was stoic and continued to dance slowly, though allowing Harry to kiss him. It was dark in the room, they shouldn’t be recognised, but one could never be too cautious. He was calculating the best way of getting Harry to calm down a bit. The younger male’s wriggling and the way he was pressing himself up against Tom was very distracting, however. He could even feel Harry’s hard shaft pressing into his thigh through the robes.
“Tom…” he whined, looking up at him with those bright green, sparking eyes, making the Slytherin’s resolve melt in a heartbeat
“Mine,” he whispered more to himself than to Harry, before claiming his lips quickly and aggressively.
“Mmhm,” his lover seemed to melt under his touch, clearly craving more. They entwined their bodies as closely possible, moving in perfect harmony. Harry was coming undone under him already, but he knew, even in the darkness and with masks on, it was too risky.
“We can’t,” he said quietly, trying to straighten up a bit, unsuccessfully. Harry was practically hanging on him, arms wrapped around his neck, his lips kissing him all over.
“No, Harry. Now is not the time,” more firmly this time, he pried the younger male off himself.
Harry grumbled indignantly, looking dishevelled and incredibly seductive. Tom wasn’t given the time to admire the sight, because Harry punched him in the stomach and stormed off.
“This isn’t over, Riddle,” he snarled loud enough to cause a commotion around them.
“Potter, don’t get ahead of yourself,” Tom replied coolly, catching on to Harry’s plan right away, however barely resisting the urge to laugh.
Now would be a good time to leave the party and most likely find Harry down in the Chamber, ready for a very intense night of long, passionate sex.