Hello! This is my first fanfic into the world of HP. So please be kind and tell me your thoughts and opinions. I am currently writting chapter 2 and I was wondering which other griffindor should join HP in his bed.

Chapter 1 – I'm bored. Let's see what's happening on the HP channel.

Lord Voldemort was not one for dallying or wasting his time. He was a master of the dark arts, he was the head of a criminal and terrorist organisation, he was preparing to overthrow a government and a war; sitting around doing nothing was not what something he could afford. And yet… He was sitting in Lucius Malfoy's luxurious and confortable lounging chair in the quarters the blond man had generously offered him (mostly because the dark lord was not someone who slept on some crooked and bent up couch), waiting for a team of his followers to report back to him.

Of course, he could be doing some research on some dark magic, but any books or artefacts or treaty of said magic were outside of Great Britain. He had not only read, but corrected and improved or added the information one could find in them. He could be devising plans, but all his followers were busy doing their regular jobs or out doing what he asked (ordered, more precisely) them to do. He could be doing anything else than simply sitting around moping, but anything he could be doing depended on actions or possibilities that were not here or not done yet. He could not do anything before Fenrir Greyback came back with the answer of the giants and before Snape came back from the Order of the Phoenix's meeting.

Lord Voldemort was left on his own and he was now bored out of his mind. He couldn't have a discussion with Lucius; he was doing his job of manipulating the ministry of magic. He couldn't speak with Bellatrix; she was with Wormtail, trying to convince the Scottish and Irish criminal organisations. He couldn't even terrorize Drago, since he was in Hogwarts… So was Harry Potter…

He frowned at the thought of the four-green-eyed thorn in his ass. He hated thinking about his enemy; it always reminded him of the insignificant, minimal, ludicrous chance that he might be one day defeated. Yet, he sometimes offered him some good divertissement. Just like when this chubby boy's potion blew up in Snape's face, for example. My, he hadn't laughed this hard in years. See through the boy's eyes the face of absolute incoherence and fury of Snape at such mediocrity had been the highlight of that week. Not only did it give Harry Potter a massive headache, but he managed to have some good laughs at the expense of the usually stoic potion master.

It was about 10 o'clock at night and since Scotland was in another time zone; that meant the boy was currently asleep and would be easier to manipulate and torment. If he was lucky, he would catch the green-eyed punk enjoying some alone time with his hand and he could inject awful images of Lucius Malfoy in leopard g-string or an image of Wormtail doing a sensual strip-tease. Thankfully, Lord Voldemort had never seen any of these images, but he had an exceptional mind and imagination when it came to traumatizing and cringe worthy pictures. Mental torture was the one area he truly shined aside from magic itself.

With his mind set, the dark lord locked his door to keep out intruders, cast a spell to keep out the noises that would distract him, regulated his breathing and within a minute and a half he was projecting his mind into that of his great enemy: Harry Potter. At first, all he saw was darkness; which didn't surprise him since the boy seemed asleep, but then, something caught his interest. A moaning sound; a sensual moaning sound.

The dark lord could not believe his luck. He had entered Harry Potter's mind easily, for one; and then, caught him pleasuring himself! Oh, the endless possibilities to mess with his foe were getting him excited like a child awaiting a surprise. And boy did he get a surprise when the green-eyed sixteen year old boy opened his eyes.

Through Harry Potter's eyes, Lord Voldemort saw an orange headed boy sucking, licking and enjoying the green-eyed brat's impressively well-proportionate sex with obvious glee and sexual hunger. One of Harry's hands was lost into the flame coloured main and the other was pinching his own nipple for added pleasure. This was not what the dark mage had expected at all. Sure masturbation was natural for a teenager, he had enjoyed greatly when he was his enemy's age (occasionally, enjoyed to this day); but this was far beyond what he had thought sixteen years olds should be doing at night. Especially on a school night! It was Wednesday, for pete's sake! They had classes the next morning!

Yet, as shocked and outraged as he was, he could not stop himself from enjoying the view. As Voldemort took more control of Harry's mind, the more he started to feel like he was into the boy's body and that he was the one receiving the blow-job. Weasleys were blood-traitors; they were no better than Mudblood and would be the first to be exterminated once he arrived in power. However, he could make an exception for that Weasley; he had a marvellous tongue and knew how to use it. Oh, the shivers that ran down the dark lord's spine… If all the Weasley boys sucked as good as this one; well, he might just open a brothel for his Deatheathers with the orange headed family as the main toys. No doubt, Lucius would be a regular!

Unconsciously, Voldemort grabbed a fistful of orange hair as he particular hard suck made it hard for him not to cum too early. He was wonderfully amazed when Harry's arm reacted to HIS will. He could control Harry Potter's body when the boy was horny as hell! With a devious smirk and a spell, Voldemort had the orange-headed boy flipped on his stomach with his ass before him and his face shoved into the covers. He undid the dark haired boy with glasse's trousers and started to rub the entrance with the tip of the sex.

The Weasley boy begged his friend to stop teasing him and simply go and fuck him. He was still loose from his encounter with some kid named Seamus, earlier today. Voldemort paused a second to register just how whorish kids were now-a-days, before burying his enemy's cock deep into the awaiting and twitching pink hole before him. The tightness and heat felt simply exquisite around him; it was like being wrapped in a tight, warm and velvety headlock that attempted to swallow you into an abyss of sexual pleasure. That Weasley will be a hit in that future brothel!

Slowly but surely, the dark lord moved and slammed into the tight heat with abandoned pleasure as the ass before him met his thrust every time with equal force and precision. Moans, cries and heavy breathing filled the canopy bed (the boys had the sense of closing the curtains and casting a mute spell to make sure no one heard them), Voldemort just kept pounding and the orange-headed boy simply kept whining about how good it was to be someone's little bitch. Oh, he would definitely be a hit amongst Deatheaters; Lucius might just keep that boy all to himself.

However, all good things must come to an end. Harry Potter was just a teenager, his endurance for such activities lasted at best five minutes and Voldemort soon found himself emptying his enemy's balls into the orange-headed boy, who came violently and snakingly onto the covers. This gave the dark lord a good fuck and some release, but it was clear that for the orange-headed boy, this had been the best orgasm in his short life.

The boy simply laid there, exhausted with cum leaking out of his perfectly round ass and before you could say "Quidditch" here was Harry's erection back. With a sadistic grin, Voldemort jinx the boy to have his hands tied to the fixture of the bed in order to have the boy on his knees and then took the ginger head's hips and violently entered him with a sigh of pleasure. Soon he was fucking the orange-headed boy once more, making him scream of delight and ecstasy as he abused prostate was receiving the pounding of its life.

The boy started to curse and used lewd language to express his pleasure. To make sure the boy never caught the habit of using such ill-mannered habits and not because Voldemort taught it would be sexy, the dark lord stopped fucking the ginger boy and gave three hard slaps on the boy's bottom. With each slap, the boy let out a stream of cum. It seemed to Voldemort that the boy liked to be punished. He pulled the ginger head's back to lick and suck the sweet spot in the boy's neck that made him moan like the bitch he was, and started to rub Harry's dick along his friend's crack.

The boy pleaded, begged, bargained and even tried pitifully to threaten his friend into fucking him once more. The only response he got was three harder slaps that had him spur out three more stream of cum. The boy was now in tears, he needed Harry's dick in him and he needed it now! As the sadistic prick that he was, Voldemort simply refused to give the teen what he wanted and kept teasing him with kisses and butterfly touches. And then… the boy said the three magic words… "Please master! Please!" Now, when asked politely such as this, Voldemort consented to his partner's request and slammed violently into the desperate teen.

Immediately, the ginger boy experienced the most powerful and amazing orgasm of his life and stream after stream of cum were gushing out of him; painting his chest and the covers white with his semen. As for the dark lord, the channel suddenly clamming on him with such power and speed gave him an orgasm, one of which he had never experienced before in his long life. Without thinking, he bit down onto the neck of the orange-headed boy as he came; causing the boy to come weakly once more before he passed out from exhaustion.

As the orange-headed boy collapsed, Voldemort felt his foes body starting to shut down and understood that his time was up and he had to leave. Slowly, Harry's eyes closed and Voldemort's fluttered open. The dark mage was light headed, his breath was short and his hands were shaking, a large wet and dark stain was on his crotch area, the room smelled of sex and his body hadn't felt so relaxed in years.

Lord Voldemort never had a large sexual appetite. The only reason he ever lost his virginity was because his "friends" from his youth had paid him a night with the best whore they could find. In other words, a filthy, dirty and smelly middle-aged woman with a large muffin-top. The experience was disappointing to say the least; the woman screamed too much with her high pitch voice and she kept faking it; even when he went flaccid in her. Since then, he had never cared much for sex. He had a few one night stand with a few of his followers (notably Bellatrix when he was in the mood for a woman and Lucius or Snape when a man was what he craved), before obliviating their memories. Yet, never had any past experiences given him such pleasure and enjoyment!

The man got up from his chair with shaky legs and made his way into the bathroom to take a shower; he hated feeling dirty and sticky like this. Under the piping hot water, Voldemort relived the events of the evening in his head and concluded that he had to try once more to take over Harry Potter's mind to see if this is what he truly liked or if it was just because it was a novelty. He needed to see if he would be able to do it once more and maybe, if everything went well, he could take full control of his enemy's body and destroy once and for all his opponents with their ace in their sleeves. Oh, what sweet irony would that be!

Lord Voldemort finished washing himself up and went to bed. He was exhausted after this little adventure and he needed all of his strength if he wanted to repeat tonight's experiment.