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Like Mother, Like Son

Summary:

Lord Voldemort, after regaining his powers tracks down Harry Potter, his seventh and last, unplanned horcrux and adopts him. Well, maybe reclaiming what's his would suit better. Why bother with trying to pry the boy to his side, when he can just start over? He knows the words that will make everything go as planned: Obliviate.

Or: Voldemort brainwashes Harry into loving him in a codependent, toxic relationship Harry shares with his caretaker

Notes:

If the whole sentence is written in cursive, it means its parseltongue:3
anyway, read the tags carefully please, I'm aware it can be triggering

If anything looks/sounds wrong or there are some spelling mistakes, please let me know!:)

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

The Boy, the one he chased for his whole life, the one whose life he turned into tragedy - and in return, his own turned into ashes - was now sitting on his lap, like it all has never happened. A blur, a dream - erased memories.

Destiny works in strange ways indeed. Especially if one mastered the art of spellcasting. And he… oh, he certainly did.

 

Finding out Harry was a horcrux was not something he could’ve prepared for. It was one thing to place his soul in objects, familiar even… And a completely different matter when his soul was ripped from him and placed in a small, half-blooded babe.

Recovering from his fall was not easy - tracing back his mistakes, and what went wrong that wretched night became his obsession. Lord Voldemort did not make mistakes. He did not fail. And any things left out of his control had to be crushed. Or… claimed.

 

It turned out the old fool, Dumbledore, underestimated him - as always - and placed Harry under the most bare protection he had seen. Sure, if Voldemort hadn't known where to look, it could’ve taken decades to find the house and break through the barriers - but for someone as… motivated as him it was a matter of a week. Invisible doors, ripped, opening, forced apart till he could come closer to the simple house, the same as many others on the street - with small windows, small garden and small car. Muggles settled for bare minimum, indeed.

 

Retrieving Harry became a necessity, and keeping him by his side at all times was a pure need. A right he gained on that halloween night when so many signed him off as not important, not a threat anymore. Oh how wrong they were…

 

"Obliviate"

 

Obliviate 

 

Obliviate 

 

꧁ 𓆩༺✧༻𓆪 ꧂




Just like this, his soul, his horcrux, his little light was sitting on his lap without any restraints needed.

Harry laid his fluffy head on Voldemort's chest as the men pet his side, eyes focused on another daily prophet. The propaganda has become so much easier since he gained control over papers....

"Voldemort?" The child asked him looking up. If anyone else called him by his name like that, they'd be positively cursed, in a way that tore the tongue out and boiled bones in acid. But his soul, his little soul, didn't need to abide by laws like that.

"Yes?" Voldemort asked with a soft smile as he ran his talons through the boy's hair. The dark locks slipped through his fingers, bouncing up like they were made out of rubber. Voldemort didn't know how he could miss such an endearing sight for so many years. But he was here to make up for his miscalculations, was he not?

"I've been feeling weird lately" Harry said leaning into Voldemort's touch "Like something's missing..."

"What would be missing, my soul?" Voldemort asked gently in parseltongue. It awakened Nagini who was napping on the couch. She hissed something inaudible and went back to slumber. 

The closeness of another horcrux seemed to be more calming to her than Voldemort ever was. Or maybe it was just Harry that had that effect on other parts of the Dark Lord’s soul - he could feel this pull himself.

"I dunno..." Hardy mumbled "Like sometimes aunt Bella says something and I... have this weird feeling..." Note to self: gag Bellatrix "...like something's wrong. Like... like what you're doing is wrong..." Harry finished unsure "You're... You're not doing bad stuff, are you?"

Such an innocent, pure creature. Harry could think of himself as anything but, and Voldemort still knew better. 

Harry was like a little storm. Chaotic and bright. Voldemort could drown in that warm rain for all he cared.

"Sometimes" Voldemort started explaining as he pushed Harry's fringe off his forehead "Sometimes bad stuff are good. Like in these books I read you to sleep, where injustice happens and one earns the right to execute it. Like when your old caretakers lost their right to live after what they did to you, precious boy. Do you understand?"

Harry nodded slowly

"Good." Voldemort smiled and leaned in to kiss Harry's scarred forehead. Oh, how easier life was with a child who didn't remember. Who was able to... Care for him, out of his own volition. For whom he was... A savior. An interesting feeling, indeed.

 

Harry didn't need to go to school - for the rest of the world he was lost anyway. Voldemort tutored him himself or appointed other deatheaters to do so, shaping Harry into a well educated young man who maybe asked too many questions for his own good, but at least seemed to overcome the side effects of obliviation quickly. He still had dreams of his past life, of what he was stripped of but they were just that - dreams.

Voldemort wondered sometimes who Harry thought Voldemort was to him. Was he aware of what kind of bond they shared? Did he realize just how important he was?

Those questions could make him spend hours hovering over Harry's bed as the boy slept, turning from side to side, lips softly parted, hair disheveled, soft pyjamas on soft skin.

Tucking Harry in was one of his favorite things - the feeling of ownership, of care, of... Dare he say, love, was addictive even if it felt strange at first. Maybe Dumbledore was onto something.

 

꧁ 𓆩༺✧༻𓆪 ꧂



It was yet another meeting, Voldemort sitting on top of his high table, his followers sprawled around, thriving under his steel rule. They were almost there, almost succeeded in everything they wanted. With Harry on their side, the Order of Phoenix and wizarding world was lost. That fool Dumbledore fumbled over his words, changed plans, or maybe his original ones were this useless.

"Voldemort?" Harry peeked into the room. He was a cautious boy around others so Voldemort wondered what had happened. He usually didn’t go into the meeting room, especially with so many deatheaters present. Voldemort knew some details they were discussing could put some… unnecessary doubts in Harry’s mind, so he preferred smaller doses of information for him.

"What is it, my soul?" Voldemort asked in parseltongue, noticing that Nagini followed alongside Harry. If the snake could, she probably would keep herself by his side all day long, seven days a week. He could understand the sentiment.

"Nightmare" she hissed back, curling around Harry's leg, wrapping herself tightly. It always filled Harry with a pleasant feeling of possession, of being taken care of. As he should feel.

Harry nodded and Voldemort beckoned him closer. When the boy was before him the man pulled him onto his lap, not minding the other deatheaters. Bellatrix lowered her gaze, jaw clenched, as Voldemort traced Harry's delicate arms.

"Continue" he probed as Harry rested his head against his chest and closed his eyes. Voldemort wiped the small droplets of sweat off the boy’s forehead and let himself taste the beads. Salty, but oh how sweet they were.



As Harry grew older, more questions appeared.

"Why don’t you ever let me out without supervision?" Harry narrowed his eyes looking at the Dark Lord like none of his followers would ever dare to. Voldemort only stared back at him fondly.

"Because you're too precious, my dearest." Voldemort came closer, leaning into Harry. He reached over rubbing his wrist against Harry's neck, a snake instinct he developed lately. Humans weren’t sensitive to smells at all, not like he was. And having this snake-ish body was an advantage and irrevocable proof of his heritage he would never abandon, even with all its instincts. Not when it caused such… delicious fear.

But Harry was almost an adult now - and that seemed to gather attention. Being favored by the dark lord, on top of Harry's good looks and charismatic, open personality gained attention of many young ladies of the pure blood families. Voldemort never gave any of his followers an idea Harry would ever leave his side - but worms' minds worked in mysterious ways. Dangerous ways, he had to cut short. Maybe that’s why he started to be more restless lately.

"Because you're a very special boy, who has to stay by my side safe forever"

"Why?" Harry asked defiantly. "You never give me the reason. Draco told me that he got a girlfriend, that he goes to school. Why can't I!?"

"Because you're a monster, Harry." Voldemort hissed, gripping the boy's wrists and holding him in place. "Just like me. And the world is not kind to monsters who can do extraordinary stuff" he finished softly cupping Harry's cheek.

"I don't want to be a monster..." Harry whispered, his eyes glistening "Is it... Is it because of my scar? B-because im ugly?"

"Who said you are?" Voldemort asked coldly. Beauty was not a matter important to him, at least now when he had so much power. But he knew just how much worth it held to… less important than him.

"Me" Harry glowered like the man was playing with him "I'm not blind..."

"You are if you think so." Voldemort gripped his chin lifting it up "Listen to me and you won't have those questions anymore. You're a beautiful precious boy. To me, to our... cause."

Harry looked up at him with those beautiful green eyes that could always make Voldemort soften up.

My beautiful boy, precious soul.

 

꧁ 𓆩༺✧༻𓆪 ꧂



It got harder and harder for Voldemort to justify his actions. Not his dark plans of course. No matter the setbacks, he knew what he was doing - his seven horcruxes were safe, things were good.

But it was more evident Harry, unlike Nagini, was a completely separate being, not submissive to him in any way besides simple parental respect or habit.

He found himself slipping into the boy's mind sometimes, Harry completely unaware of what was happening and how to stop it. Voldemort told him it's good. It's good to let Voldemort take control, to not have any secrets before him.

And in Harry's mind, he found more worries than explanations. The need for freedom and dignity, higher values and contemplations, they threatened the peace Voldemort reached between them with blood and spells. He couldn't train Harry like he did his followers - kept in fear and blindly abiding his word. Harry was a gentle boy, despite his strong soul. He could survive a lot, but it damaged him sometimes irreversibly.

No, he had to guide Harry into the spiderweb and tuck him in till the boy couldn't move.

 

"Here" Voldemort guided Harry's wand as his hand trembled, encircling the boy from behind. On the floor, beaten, mindless and tortured were the Dursleys, years of punishment Voldemort prepared for them taking its toll. He knew it was a good idea to keep them alive - besides letting them be a stressball for his deatheaters. The youngest of them, some fattened boy who bullied Harry perished in the meantime, unfortunately. But the two adults remained, their bodies unrecognizable at this point. They were much more pleasing like this.

 

 "You can let go Harry, it's okay" he whispered, his talons petting Harry's hair lovingly.

"I-..." The boy whimpered "What... I don't know what to do..."

If any of his followers said that, he'd kill them. When Harry said that, his heart sang. He took the boy’s hand in his.

"Swish and flick, like i taught you" Voldemort purred "Remember what they did to you? How they wanted to keep you from me? From happiness?"

Harry nodded , small tears dripping from his eyes. Voldemort could’ve erased those memories too of course. But why lose such a potent leverage?

"You know the words Harry.”

"A-... Avada kedavra” Harry whispered, his wand glistening vibrant green, but nothing else happened "Avada... Avada kedavra!" He shouted louder. The Dursleys squealed mindlessly. It was delicious to watch his beautiful boy do what he was born to do. His light fighting the darkness.

"Remember the pain Harry. Embrace it." Voldemort said, his own voice filling with hate and cold "Feel the hatred. Feel the revenge."

Harry's face tensed then his whole body relaxed.

"Avade kedavra." He whispered. The effect was immediate. The green light flashed, so alike his eyes, so… beautiful. Dursley's eyes bulged open, their bodies relaxing and falling on top of each other.

Nagini hissed, wriggling around in excitement. She’ll have food for weeks… They were so proud of him.

"Good... You've done so good Harry..." He hugged the boy "You've done so well, as expected from my best boy, my soul..." Harry trembled slightly and turned around into Voldemort's arms "How did it feel?" Voldemort whispered, his voice relaxed, inviting.

"...Good." 

Harry’s small voice could be heard only by him.



꧁ 𓆩༺✧༻𓆪 ꧂




Harry's maturity became unquestionable. With his seventeen birthdays, which Voldemort and the deatheaters celebrated like the boy was selected as the next King of England, the Dark Lord started to think over his next moves in detail.

Harry acted like a good, obedient possession to him - with a learned feeling of superiority over others, but a kind heart still beating underneath it all, justifying other's sins and preaching taking care of mindless pests. Truly too sweet for his own good.

What was not making it all better were the descendants of pureblood families. When Voldemort got approached for the first time so openly, Nott questioned him about plans towards the boy, eventual marriage and union all could benefit from. He was so astonished, Nott had to wait a couple of seconds for his tongue to be cut off. 

To give his sweet Harry, his horcrux to some worthless mindless pest? Someone who couldn't give him a pile of bodies to rest his head on, all four attributes of founders to adorn his body, Slytherin's treasure to make sure he was utterly, fully claimed?

 

The mere thought was... Disgusting to him. Unbelievable. So dumb and horrifying it was almost... logical.

 

Harry was a young man now. Well mannered, talented, better than the rest. Trained to dictate others' actions, making plans alongside Voldemort and letting the man take care of him, like he still knew his place was on the Dark Lord's lap.

But for how long will he know that? When will lust and the need of something bigger take over his heart, giving him the feeling of greed Voldemort knew all too well?

No. It was unforgivable.

 

"Harry" he started one evening, when the boy was sitting on his bed, a new snake Voldemort allowed him to take curled up on his lap as he looked over some parchment. Voldemort was sitting on the near armchair, studying him like he often did - admiration of one's possession was nothing strange after all "What do you desire from the future? You must've thought over some plans"

"I... Yes i did" Harry moved slightly, his fingers running through the coils of the snake in soft pets as he raised his eyes in a measly hidden eagerness. "But I don't know if you'll allow it..." He said lowering his gaze again.

"I won't give you an answer if I won't know of the subject, my soul" Voldemort leaned in.

"... I... I wanted to ask if I could... Explore the world more" he lifted his eyes, the greens of his irises entrapting everyone who gazed upon them. His natural talent one could say "I feel... Like my only purpose in life is to follow your word..." He swallowed, nervous to voice his opinions to someone who was his patron "But... I began to wonder if being part of your soul wasn't enough. To... Be kept safe as your horcrux. I don't need to take part in your biddings, do I?" He swallowed, glancing down at the snake again "I feel... lonely, deep inside. Like the only place I fit in is right beside your side, as your soul. Like my life had no other meaning."

Voldemort looked at him emotionless processing over his words.

"And what more would you like to be?" Asked Voldemort slowly as he rose up, stalking towards the bed slowly.

"I..." Harry sighed awaiting Voldemort's inevitable touch, connecting the severed parts of the soul again "I want to build a name for myself. Be called something more than... ‘The Dark Lord's boy’..." He admitted quietly. Voldemort's gaze softened. He cupped Harry's cheek, his sharp talons grazing the soft skin.

The boy was so... Pure. Even with the poison Voldemort has been seeping into his mind for all those years he still had this... Light. Truly, admirable to be able to withhold it even after killing one’s kin.

"I won't stop you to build your own name, my soul" Voldemort said smoothly "Build an empire of your own, if you wish so. Don't mistake your power for freedom, but use it to your heart's content. People can be toys in your hands Harry, just like I taught you. Tell them the sun rises on the west and they'll swallow it up like pelicans."

Harry looked up at him, closing his eyes and resting his cheek on Voldemort's palm. 

“Can you stay? For tonight?” Harry asked quietly. “Please.”

Voldemort could almost feel his soul shudder.



꧁ 𓆩༺✧༻𓆪 ꧂



Harry indeed began to leave his side more. He told Voldemort of all the things he has seen, of all the places he traveled under glamour and Voldemort surveillance of course. Made his own plans, found a place in Voldemort’s ranks where he could hold his own illusion of control. But he always came back to Voldemort’s lap, to his manor, to Harry’s place.

He, maybe absentmindedly, gathered his own circle of followers, young descendants of deatheaters whose minds were much more gullible to the words of someone their own age and not an immortal Dark Lord. Voldemort used it to his advantage of course, steering Harry into guiding them to the right direction. The boy himself still seemed to take little interest in Voldemort’s most pressing political matters - he was nowhere to be seen during the deatheater’s gatherings, even if Voldemort wouldn’t mind having him displayed on his lap again, before his followers. Maybe something in Harry’s tangled mind still kept him from openly opposing those who used to be his teachers, his friends, his family. But it was okay, as long as it was all that remained from the past.

But because of his fraternization with the lesser kind of young deatheaters, the courting seemed to only rise in strength. It was one of those things Voldemort didn't even want to negotiate about: Harry was forbidden to consider any of the suitors.

"The only person who'll be able to take care of you properly will be me, Harry" Voldemort explained calmly.

"It's not the same!" Harry grew frustrated with every word. Voldemort began to wonder if underage Harry would ever dare to defy him like this. Perhaps with age came stupidity "I may share your soul but my body is completely separate! I have my own feelings, my own... Desires you can't fulfill"

"There's not a need in you I couldn't satiate" Voldemort said darkly making Harry immediately shut up.

"I-..."

" Feelings? Desires? Is that what you crave?" Voldemort asked, coming closer "I can fulfill those." He leaned in his breath tracing Harry's ear "I can make you boneless for days. I can make you so satisfied you'd never even think of leaving me."

"It's... It's not the same!" Harry pulled away trembling, scared from defying him like this. Maybe not all of his reasons were gone then. 

Harry’s face was adorned in adorable blush slipping through the crevices of his scar smoothly.

"Oh, isn't it?" Voldemort's gaze darkened, wandless magic raising Harry and sitting him on the desk they were working on. Ropes slipped out of nowhere immobilizing his hands, Harry's eyes widening in fright.

"Voldemort?..." His breath hitched.

"Am I not enough for you, now?" Voldemort purred, leaning in. His eyes were dark. "Have you grown too spoiled, too greedy under my care? Should I take away the freedom I granted you, reeducate you of your right place by my side?"

"N-no..." Harry whimpered trying to pull back "There's... There's no need..."

"And yet you crave for more"  Voldemort reached, his fingers slipping throughout Harry's chest. The boy trembled under his fingers.

"S-stop, please-..."

"Maybe I didn't get my point across..." Voldemort mused quietly pulling the boy closer, his mouth against Harry's soft neck. He dragged his tongue against places where his artery was hidden, feeling the rapid beating, like a rabbit who craved to run away. His fangs moved out of his gums and he bit the boy hard, keeping him in place. The venom slowly seeped in, the mark and redness only blooming more on the boy’s golden skin. The boy screamed trying to break away but he had nowhere to go, nowhere to hide from his inevitable marking.

 

It had to be done. Harry had to be marked finally, on his body, for everyone to see. Voldemort held him tight till the boy relaxed and spilled into his arms losing consciousness.




꧁ 𓆩༺✧༻𓆪 ꧂




He woke up a couple hours later, still dizzy, but back in the soft bed upstairs. Nagini was laying on his chest, resting her head nudging his chin. He raised trembling hand to his aching neck, memories slowly coming back to him, the explanation of his foul mood.

"Don't touch it" someone grasped his hand and laid it down "You need to heal"

Harre looked to his left slowly, seeing the man laying next to him.

"Why...why?..." He asked quietly, his voice hoarse from screaming and sobbing.

"I'm sorry you had to feel that pain" Voldemort touched his cheek lovingly, a stark contrast to his previous actions, the violent outburst Harry experienced on his skin “It was a necessary measure, my soul. You've been finally properly marked by the Dark Lord"

"M-marked..." Harry mumbled, slipping his hand away to touch his neck nevertheless. He couldn't feel much besides seeping pain, dulled by the venom. 

"Yes, my soul" Voldemort pushed himself closer, his tongue slipping across his neck. To Harry's surprise it dulled the pain, making him slip out a small sound of relief "I promise it was necessary. I'd never hurt you, you know that..." He whispered into Harry's ear "This way your... Desires can be satiated. Your human attachments don't have to hold you back anymore. Isn't it just... Precious?" Voldemort's fingers moved up Harry's chest

“What… does it mean…” Harry asked, still blinking slowly in daze.

“It means, my sweet” Harry could hear Voldemort smile “That you’re properly mine now. No one, including you, will ever have any doubts as to whom you belong to.” He kissed Harry’s neck slowly, gently, tracing them down like he was mapping his skin “If you wish for those… desires of yours to be fulfilled, you’ll have only me to look for. And for those… impeccable roaches…” he hissed, his tone darkening “Who think they can take you, it’ll be a clear sign you’re already someone’s.” He smiled again, raising up slightly and moving himself on top of Harry slightly as he leaned in, his lips grazing across Harry’s face “My sweet little thing…”

“That…” Harry let out a quiet sob, his exhausted body not letting him break down properly “I… I’m not an object…”
“Of course you’re not…” Voldemort said cupping his cheek “Of course you’re not, my sweet boy. You can be my lover too, now.” He smiled, something dark glistening in his life “That’s what you wanted too, hm? To have a proper partner now. Oh, how sweet of you to propose that…”

“I…I didn’t…”

“My sweet boy” Voldemort leaned in again, kissing him and swallowing any protests “We’ll have the most grand pureblood styled wedding, connecting our souls in ways they weren’t yet…” He whispered in between kisses, his long tongue slipping inside Harry’s mouth who moaned quietly and gasped for air “Connected forever.”

 

For some reason, as he nuzzled into Harry’s reluctant whimpers, his useless mother came to  mind. The woman who enslaved the man she loved and used him, stupidly believing he could truly love her back.

Well, Voldemort wasn’t like his mother. Because she made the mistake of letting her man go.

No, Harry will stay right there, under him, claimed and not sure what’s going on or what he feels until the boy properly loves him. 

Harry will be his until the end of time. And no amount of love Voldemort felt, aching and needy in ways only biblical greed allowed, will blind him enough to let the boy run away.

 

There were better ways than Amortencia to truly enslave someone’s feelings.




 

Fin







Notes:

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