The Lost Prince

The story are going into four Kingdoms. Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin. The King and Queen from Gryffindor wanted a son so badly and have tried in many years to get on. A stranger got past their Kingdom and give them a thing where they got a son. What Will happened? Read and find out.

Warning: Slash. MalexMale pairings. Smut chapters. Don't like Don't read. This is a story for people there is over 16 years old.

Beta Reader/Edit: Gurren-on-Kyoto.


10. The Secret Behind the Birthmark

Harry held his ground despite the fear he felt, but he did not show any sign of defiance. His eyes were closed and he could feel Voldemort shifting. The man before him had crouched slowly to his level, and a moment later, his chin was grasped by long commanding slender fingers. His head was forced upwards and a low hiss followed, "Look at me, Potter…"

That was all it took for Harry to slide open his eyes. He couldn't fathom what exactly he saw in the flaming eyes of the dark wizard.

"You are fortunate my son found you," stated Voldemort in a drawl, scrutinizing the young prince with renewed interest. "as for me, I see it reasonable enough to keep you under my kingdom." His breathe fanned the boy's faced as he spoke. He lifted another hand up and brushed Harry's birthmark briefly, which prickled under the king's touch.

"Please," gasped Harry, "let me go, sir…" he pleaded now, his body shaking from fear. His blood ran ever colder at the serpentine king's abrupt curt reply, "No."

Both his wrists were gripped in a vice-like manner and held above his head swiftly as he was shoved down in the bed. He thrashed with all his might but Voldemort won't budge; he was simply hopeless under the other man. Lying flat on his back and staring up at the icy yet fiery eyes, he heard him speak.

"You belong to me, Potter. The signs are clear. The birthmark is not one of ordinary; it is my mark and symbol – you, Harry Potter, are a part of me. A fragment of my soul resides within you." At this, Harry began shaking his head rapidly in a denial gesture; he himself wasn't sure why he was opposing the notion.

Voldemort went on, "Lucius Malfoy had imparted a part of me into the potion he gave your parents which made you a living Horcrux of mine."

"That's not true!" Harry bellowed, enraged, part from all the information being bestowed upon him and partly because of the reminder of his parents' mistake. "It's not… it's not possible!" he attempted weakly.

A cruel yet gentle smile suffused the serpentine features of Voldemort, watching the boy trying to fight against the truth. "Unfortunately, it is…" he whispered, his hand now traveling to the side of the boy's face, caressing his fingers across his cheek. "Something about you caught my attention, and Nagini agreed with me. You were mystifying…" his voice sounded almost dreamy, "but now it's all clear to me."

Harry ceased thrashing and merely gazed up at Voldemort, wanting those expressionless red slits to give him a hint of the king's deception but found none. Tears escaped his eyes fiercely and Voldemort, having seen them, wiped them off with his own fingers. Silence fell between them but after a few moments, Harry broke it.

"What are you going to do against me?" he asked.

"Nothing against you, my dear boy." toned Voldemort, sounding almost like Malfoy. "Only a condition. You, Harry Potter, must be with my son. If you ever disagree – I will make sure you undergo pain." A few rustles passed, and Harry was free again. Voldemort had let go of him and moved swiftly to stand straight by the middle of the room, his back turned to the boy.

At last, he whirled around in a dark blur, his lithe figure twirling around. He regarded Harry impassively. "If my son is to be with another heir, like him, both kingdoms will unite and be one." he smiled viciously. "I wish to rule the powerful kingdom of King James. That is what I desire. Have them under my mercy,"

"Tomorrow, my son and you will be sent off to the Gryffindor kingdom, along with your fellows. You will tell your dear father about the marriage," he continued, noting how immediate blood shot up to the boy's face, rendering him a living tomato for a moment.

Why would the Slytherin go out of his way to the point of even letting his only heir and son be involved just to obtain Gryffindor kingdom? Harry didn't understand Voldemort's reasoning. He cleared his throat, sat up and began to blurt out a question but was silenced by an overpowering hand clamped over his mouth. Voldemort moved within a blink of an eye and was once again hovering over him. "I dare you, Potter. Do not breathe a word about my plans to anyone; you are only to deliver one single message to King James, and that is about you and my son's marriage." He released his hold of Harry who tumbled back against the mountain of pillows below him.

Can't anyone from the outside hear his pleas? Harry wondered briefly before all his thoughts flew from his mind completely as dread engulfed him; a hand had worked its way into his undershirt. His eyes fell close as though a part of him was already accepting this, knowing what he did was a blunder.

"Pflees-" Was his lips' fail of wavering off the imposing hand, hissing in a muffled voice against the other hand on his mouth.

"Hmm…? Be more understandable, Potter." Voldemort mocked with a smirk that Harry hadn't seen. He slid his hand away, leaving a trace of light yet powerful spell implanted on Harry. It left Harry dizzied. Then, a voice; soft and echoing, resounded in his mind, commanding him.

Say you want it, Harry. Say you want to be touched by him. Say it.

Harry slid open his eyes, his blank expressionless emerald orbs. He looked as if in a trance while the spell coursed through him, making him feel warm all over. He couldn't discern which was which as the fogginess overwhelmed him.

"Please…" breathed out Harry, for the umpteenth time, but he was calmer and more certain this time.

"Please what, Harry…?" inquired Voldemort in sotto voce, softly.

Say it, Harry. You want him deep within you. You want to feel this man taking you. Say you that you will be his.

There it was again, the imposing command. Harry's instincts immediately piped up, 'Why? Why should I listen to it?' Because it was Voldemort's order. Voldemort.

"No," gasped Harry aloud, "I don't want that. I won't ever… you're not him – not Tom." he panted out the name, surprised even to himself.

Harry dared to look up, afraid of what he'll see in the dark wizard's eyes. The man looked impressed. Genuinely impressed, there was no mistake. Before Harry could so much as react or question, the look ebbed away from the serpentine face of Voldemort. Strong though languid-looking arms heaved him up into a sitting position.

"I can't seem to find the words to describe how strong you are, Potter." smiled Voldemort, serenely.

Harry only stared at the Slytherin king sheepishly, torn between confusion and slight anger, seeing the look on the man's face.

Voldemort glanced back to Harry's way, and said, "Not all can fight off the spell I inflicted upon you, you see." He waved his hand elegantly and only smiled even more when Harry flinched, but he only summoned a piece of cloth from a nearby drawer. He used it to shed the dry tears on both Harry's cheeks.

Still confused, Harry shook his head and shied back from Voldemort, scrambling backwards to the headboard. Voldemort tilted his head to the side but then spoke gently. "I tested you, Potter." he drawled, the authority still in his voice. "though I am not implying I lied to you. You have a piece of my soul in you – through your birthmark."

Voldemort righted himself in the bed watched idly as Nagini crawled her way towards him, coiling herself around her master's shoulders. The long skillful bony hand of Voldemort caressed the smooth scale of his pet before continuing his speech. "The potion Lucius had given your parents long ago had a secret in it. I had this ring before; it contained a part of me. By putting it into the potion, it will enable a child to be born, specifically – a boy.

"So when your mother, Queen Lily, drank the potion, she was able to bear a child and that was you. But by doing this, she absorbed the curse that accompanied it." Voldemort locked eyes with Harry and the bright green eyes of the boy widened in sheer horror.

"Yes, Harry, it killed your mother. In order to create a Horcrux, one must sacrifice another being. She bore not only you inside her, but also a part of me. Your mother died for giving birth to a new Horcrux – you," hissed Voldemort.

Harry felt a knot forming in the pit of his stomach. His throat suddenly constricted, rendered him unable to speak for a long moment. Realizing what his existence resulted, Harry was suddenly consumed by guilt.

"I'm… I'm a murderer." He barely heard himself uttering the words, "I murdered my own mother."

The Slytherin King shook his head, a comforting hand settling upon one of Harry's shoulders. "Absolutely not. If there was anyone to blame – it would be Lucius. But of course, there's the fact that a part of me caused your mother's demise. I for one is someone to be blamed as well."

Harry couldn't bring himself to look at Voldemort. He had the sudden urge to yank off the hand that delicately rests on his shoulder but he respected the man for telling him the truth. The truth behind his existence. Harry wanted nothing but to be alone and to have the time to think things thoroughly and properly.

"May I go now, sir?" He sounded tired and exhausted, his voice flat and blank, but polite all the same.

"Not a word to anyone other than my son, understood?" With Voldemort's dismissive wave of the hand, the door unlocked and budged open on its own.

"I promise."

Harry carefully slipped off the bed and languidly walked his way towards the opened door. He halted by the door, hand on the handle, and turned around to look at the still watching king. "Thank you, sir." He felt the need to say it for some reason.

With the previous events still whirling through his mind, Harry wandered aimlessly along corridors. A new sense of purpose surged through him. The biggest mysteries of his life were finally enlightened. He now knew why he was able to speak the language Tom and his father uses; the language resembling the snake. It worried him before that maybe, he and Tom were somehow related. He certainly did not dislike the idea, only it was because of the circumstances between him and Tom which brought concern to him. But now that it was clarified, that his ability of speaking the snake language wasn't because they were related, Harry could breathe a sigh of relief again. Then at once, Harry came into a simple conclusion; he belongs to both of them – Tom and Voldemort.

"Oi, Harry!"

He snapped out of his thoughts immediately upon hearing Drain's voice and turned around. Drain came hurtling towards him and he almost topples backwards when the blonde boy lurched at him and hugged him around the knees. "Oof-" Grinning, he righted himself, bent down to Drain's level who grinned back at him. "Drain, I'm not a tree, you know."

"I know, I was just excited to give you something."

At Harry's confused expression, Drain straightened up and smiled. "One moment," he slid off his bag from his back and searched inside it for his stuffs. "Not this – especially this, nor this and this," he mumbled, pulling out different peculiar things from his back which formed a heap in front of him and Harry. After a few minutes, Drain finally said, "Ah, right! Got it!"

It was a locket of heavy gold with a serpentine S in glittering green stone inlay on the front. Drain, looking quite proud and smug, handed it to Harry who took it carefully, all attention on it.

"Found it in a cave during one of my searches. Though you'll like it and it seems I'm right." said Drain, who was eyeing Harry the way the other boy was ogling the locket.

"That's nice…" murmured Harry. There was something very familiar with the piece of jewelry. He thought he was hearing a sort of ticking noise from it.

Harry shook his head to clear his thoughts and chuckled, putting on the locket around his neck. "Thank you, Drain." He reached out a hand and patted Drain's silky golden locks.

Drain smiled lopsidedly, looking flirtatious. "You're much welcome. Although," he cleared his throat and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, "a little gift in return would be just as nice, won't it?"

Harry looked at Drain for a moment but then his smile widened, nodding his head. He stepped forward, closed their distance and engulfed the blonde in a warm hug. Drain looked quite contented but not yet so accomplished; he was expecting for not just a hug but a kiss, even if only a chaste one.

"Thank you again, Drain." repeated Harry.

"Uhh… yes, so…" said Drain sheepishly but then Harry planted a kiss on his forehead which washed away all disappointment he felt. Awestruck, Drain stood there, staring at Harry.

"I'll see you around, then." With a parting wave, Harry turned and left.

"Whoo! YES!" cheered Drain, half-laughing and dancing on his spot triumphantly. "I had him kiss me! Ha-ha!" Drain's laughter still echoed as the blonde joyful creature skipped his way back to his room he was staying in at the castle.

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