Groomed

(Pt 2)

Speech;
"talking"
'thinking'
Parseltongue

He grabbed at Harrys chin and pushed his face side to side. Than his hand was in Harrys hair and pushing the strands back. The Dark Lord wiped at the thin layer of powder and smeared it over Harrys top.
"You Potters always with your presentations."
The Dark Lord let go of Harrys hair and called out to another one of his Death Eaters. "Avery!"
Harry winced at his tone. The doors opened and closed behind a tall, lanky man with tussled brunette hair.
"Take this boy to Riddle manor. Lock the doors behind him."
"Of course my lord."

There was a small pop, hands grasped at Harry's shoulders than he was sucked into a tight rubber tube and touched hard ground a second later.
A fire crackled across a leather couch between two side tables. A round rug was between where a large snake lay curled into itself. Bookshelves decorated the walls and patterns of snakes and ebony wood covered the rest of the walls. In the corner invisible to those unfamiliar with the blank entrance led onto a spiral staircase.
Avery evaporated with a small pop. The snakes head popped up and Harry almost squealed in fright.

He didn't like snakes.

The snakes tongue whipped out and a low hiss came from its closed mouth. Harry backed away at the snakes threatening tone.
The snake only backed off when Harry was in the dark and curled into himself to make a small ball.

It was hours that Harry sat there, the snakes eyes never leaving him once. Harry knew he would've probably been asleep by than if it weren't for the snakes hushed hisses about killing or even eating him.
Than it came. A small crack. And appeared Harry's father and the Dark Lord. James looked between fearful and cocky. He must know Harry's here.

"Nagini where's the boy?" He asked.
"Over here master~."

Harry watched fearful as the snake uncurled herself and began to slither liquidly over to him. He squealed a very girly, and a very high pitched squeal when the snake got too close. His back hit someone sturdy and he looked up to see it was the Dark Lord. His heart dropped further into the black pit of his stomach. His insides ached in fear.
The Dark Lord gazed down at Harry before bending down and grabbing his thin wrist. Harry was pulled to his feet and the snake stopped advancing for him.
Harry didn't dare try to meet his eye. He felt the Dark Lord shift, his body practically pressed against his.

"Have you brought what I asked for James?" His tone was cold toward Harry's father.
"Yes my lord."
There was a small thump and Harry glanced through his bangs to get a look. It was a small bag, most definitely heavy from the sound it made—but still it was a small bag holding something within it. Harry wanted to know what was in it.
"Than you may leave."
James bowed his head, glanced at his youngest son and vanished with a small pop.

The Dark Lord kept a good grip on Harry's wrist as he walked over to the circular table, grabbed the bag and led him up the spiral staircase. A door met them at the last stair and he opened it.
Harry was pulled in then the door shut, locked and seemed to vanish from sight. That had Harry's heartbeat going wild.
The Dark Lord put the bag on the trunk resting against the end of a four poster queen bed. Black drapes were held back by silver rope. Two side tables were empty but clean beside the head of the bed. Harry was lifted by the waist and placed on the edge of the bed.
He blushed noticing how small he was compared to the height of the bed. It was almost a jumpable size for him. Though he had his suspicions it was the mattress currently weighed down a bit by his bum.

Harry's chin was circled by a finger, and lifted. He was forced to meet the Dark Lords eyes. Harry closed his eyes involuntarily when the Dark Lord lifted a hand close to his eyes.
"Open your eyes."
Harry didn't want to listen. He didn't want to open his eyes when he didn't understand what the Dark Lord planned to do. But he did.
Harry watched closely as the Dark Lord took out the first of his two contacts. Tears swelled in his eyes as the second one was taken out. The room went blurry and Harry lowered his head to wipe off the tears using his sleeves.
His chin was grabbed again and his glasses were pushed onto his nose. Harry was than released from his grip and he watched as the Dark Lord walked over to a door and opened it. A washroom lay inside.

"Clean up. Clothes will be laid out for you when you come out."
Harry nodded.

He waited until the man left to hop from the bed and walk into the washroom. He shut the door and locked it out of habit.
Harry stripped himself of the black dress, cloak, pantyhose and heels. The bath gushed water behind him and turned itself off when filled and smelling of sweet oils.

Harry didn't take long in the bath. He only washed himself and scrubbed the makeup from his face. Harry would've loved to stay in the hot, cinnamon scented water longer but he knew the Dark Lord would most definitely be like his mother in many aspects.
To Alphas an Omega such as Harry was just a wife, a sex reliever, a child barring... thing. He'd seen how many Alphas and even Betas dress Omegas. His mother has once dressed him like those Omegas, of course he didn't have something those Omegas had—curves.
Curves made those outfits pop and stand out even through the bright colors. Lily had been ashamed seeing her Omega son did not wield such a tool. She had been so ashamed in fact, she had actually dragged Harry to the doctors. The doctor had reassured them that Harry would grow more of an Omega body when he were mated or hit puberty, but Lily had gone deaf to the words and only dressed Harry in concealed clothing.

It's not as if he minded... at the time. But it quickly became something he hated when it was all his parents bashed him for—on top of many other things.

Harry dried his unruly raven hair and pulled at the puffy strands when he took the towel off. He didn't like his hair, it could never been styled or laid flat. It was untamable, exactly like his fathers—but it's different when your an Alpha instead of an Omega.
Wiping off most of the water on his body, Harry peeked out the door. It was deserted except for the smell of fresh food and the clothes displayed neatly on the bed.
He stepped out and closed the door behind him. Harry walked over and noticed the clothes were like his average clothing when at home.
A simple t-shirt, trousers and pants.
Harry slipped on the clothing and walked over to the desk in one of the corners where a tray sat. It held a bowl of soup, two pieces of bread, a glass of water and a spoon. He gladly sat down and picked at the bread as he waited for the soup to cool enough. Than he began to eat the soup.

There was one window in the room. It was locked and Harry couldn't unlock it, which was a bit annoying but he let it be and surveyed what he could see.
The outside was foggy and covered the ground Harry could only imagine it as mossy. The exterior of the manor was dark and brick. The roof was black in the missing moonlight. Harry could see just how vast the manor was by the exterior. Now he wondered what it looked like on the inside... if that snake ever let him roam more than the corner he had been stuck in for hours.

Closing the curtains once more, Harry walked over to the bed and grabbed onto the railing. He pushed himself up and pressed his knees into the comforter.
Harry imagined this is how it would be. He would be a locked servant of... something in this room while the Dark Lord did whatever a murderer does.
He had heard how traditional the Dark Lord was and assumed this was the same.

Purebloods when in a serious relationship or engaged slept in different rooms. Though the spouse room they would share once wed would be used a bit more, both rooms would usually be equally used as a personal private space.
The tradition was rarely ever used nowadays but Harry supposed even half-bloods could fancy the old wizarding ways.

He laid on the bed, not feeling comfortable enough to sleep under the covers. Harry didn't know when, but slowly he felt himself drifting off in the middle of the bed where he lay in a small ball.
The last thing his consciousness caught was a small hiss of a snake.

||Words: 1544||