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    Summary

    Instead of fearful, the boy looked...carefully blank. No trace at all of terror or disgust showed on his features. Yet, his eyes betrayed him, expressive as they were bright.

    His pupils were blown until only a sliver of green remained, his lips were bitten and slightly parted, and his cheeks were a deep shade of ruddy pink. All of this only led Voldemort to one conclusion....

    "You do not fear me."

    No, it was not fear the boy felt. A slow realisation stirred within Lord Voldemort, not yet ready to solidify into the obvious truth it would become if spoken.

    ─── • 🐍⋅💤⋅ 🐍 • ───

    Or,

    Harry Potter wants that snake dick. He pretends not to want that snake dick. He gets it. And Voldemort's tongue too. ;)

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