Harry smiled angelically when he saw the scene before him. He had wandered into the bedroom to find Tom nowhere in sight. He heard water running in the bathroom and made his way in. He was greeted to the sight of Tom bent over the large tub, testing the water. Harry simply couldn’t help himself: his hands were itching to touch Tom, to wrap his hands around his neck and squeeze. Harry briefly wondered if Tom bruised as easily as he did. He walked forward and before Tom even knew what had happened he pushed him into the tub. Tom spluttered and Harry slid into the tub, clothes and all. He watched as Tom struggled against him but Harry was determined. He watched bubbles escape Tom’s lips. Harry realized how beautiful Tom looked, so helpless, with his voice lost in the water around him. He could have been crying but Harry had no idea. He let go and Tom resurfaced. He let out a choked sob and leaned close to Harry. His nose was touching Harry’s and Harry was tempted to move back.

"Why did you let me up?" Tom asked and it was certainly not what Harry had expected. He had expected Tom to be angry, furious, or even upset. He had not expected Tom to resurface and ask him why he hadn’t killed him. Harry pushed Tom away and it was his turn to press him nose to Tom’s.

"Because I’m too good to kill someone," he said bitterly before resting his head against Tom’s neck where he promptly bit down, hard. Tom gasped and Harry couldn’t tell whether it was in pain or pleasure. He pulled away and was aware of blood trickling down Tom’s neck. He saw the look of rapture written across Tom’s face and he smiled innocently.

"What?" Tom asked

"You get off on pain… that’s good…" Harry said.

"Why…" Tom asked suddenly looking wary.

"Because I want to make you hurt…" Harry said as he stood and stepped out of the tub. He bent over Tom’s face. "My friends hate me. They think I’m disgusting, they think I’m sick and it’s all your fault," Harry spat and hauled Tom out of the tub. When they reached the room Harry’s anger had reached a boiling point as he watched Tom’s calm expression. He slammed Tom up against the mirror and Tom moaned in pain.

"It’s all your fault!" Harry screamed as he hit him. He could see Tom’s mental fight written across his face. "Why don’t you fight back you bastard?!" Harry yelled.

"Because I should let you have this. I should let you pretend I really do deserve this."

"Oh, but you do. You have no idea how much you deserve this," Harry hissed as he kissed Tom hard. He tasted blood in Tom’s mouth and smirked.

"You have to pay…" Harry whispered in Tom’s ear. ‘Look who’s trembling now?’ thought Harry triumphantly. He dragged Tom over to the bed where he tied and his wrists together. Tom was still shaking and Harry decided he liked him this way.

"Don’t worry…" he purred in the parody of a lover’s whisper similar to what Tom usually did. "I won’t hurt you…" he said cupping his cheek, "Not too much anyway," Harry said slapping him. Harry then realized Tom was genuinely scared and Harry laughed.

"You never know power until you can strike fear into the heart of your enemy," Harry said and he moved down Tom’s body. He stood and picked up a shard of the broken mirror and moved closer. He turned Tom over so he was resting on his stomach. He contemplated what to write. Then he knew… he knew what he wanted Tom to feel. He wanted Tom; he wanted to own him. He leaned in and pressed his lips against the back of Tom’s neck.

"Scream for me…" he purred and he made his first cut. He indulged himself in the sheer mirth of hearing Tom’s tortured screams of pain, after all he deserved it. Harry loved it, every moment, every scream, and every cry. Tom was actually begging for mercy. He realized Tom was beginning to understand what his victims felt when he tortured them. When they screamed for mercy and he killed them. No, Harry wouldn’t kill him; he wanted him to hurt for eternity. When Harry was finished, he smiled at his handiwork. ‘MINE’ was embedded in Tom’s skin.

"Shhhh…" he whispered as he licked the letters. He turned Tom over and almost purred. He looked beautiful. His face was tearstained, his eyes were red from crying, and his lips were cracked from screaming. Harry was far from finished. He stood and rummaged around in the drawers. He set his tools on the bed. He found a knife, matches, and a whip.

"Why is there a whip in this room Tom…? Were you going to use it on me? Hmmm? Or did you use it on one of your many victims?" Harry asked

"You know I would never do that to you," Tom said and his voice was low and forced. It probably hurt for him to talk. Harry ran his tongue across the tip of the knife. He watched as Tom winced when the knife cut into his skin. He pulled the knife away and kissed Tom again. Tom was unresponsive and Harry slapped him again.

"What’s the matter baby? I thought you got off on pain!" Harry yelled. He slid his boxers off and pressed his cock to Tom’s mouth. "Come on you slut!" he barked.

He rolled over when he came and gazed at Tom. He promptly lit a match and pressed it to Tom’s stomach. He heard Tom’s loud scream. Harry let the match burn down to the bottom where it burnt the tip of his fingers and he crushed it. He turned Tom over again and picked up the whip. He hit Tom with all the anger he was feeling. He was vaguely aware he was shouting above Tom’s screams.

"This is for my parents!" he screamed as he hit Tom again. He screamed a name with each stroke. "This is for Cedric!" and finally he dropped the whip before he turned Tom over and hit his face. "And that was for me…" Harry whispered. That’s when he saw Tom’s expression. When he looked in Tom’s eyes he saw anger, pain, anguish, and mostly he saw understanding. It caused him to break. Harry was crying and he touched Tom’s face.

"I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…" he breathed. He repeated it like a mantra until he woke up.