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Priesthood was not the plan Harry originally had for his life. Growing up with the Dursleys, he thought maybe he'd join the military so he could learn to defend himself from his bully of a cousin and travel the world. That plan quickly got squashed when he met a boy down the street named Tom Riddle and had his first real friend, one that he never wanted to be parted from for the length of a deployment. Tom was like him - an orphan living with his Uncle Morfin. Although he never spoke of it much, Harry knew from the way Tom talked about his uncle that he didn't treat him any better than Harry's relatives treated him. So, they became the family they each needed. 

Walking carefully through the empty Church, Harry lit the many candles upon the altar solemnly, enjoying the quiet. He found that the near total silence that often imbued his life since taking his Holy Orders 6 months ago helped him to push away his doubts, fears, and longings that detracted him from God. When all he could hear was his steady breaths, the crackle of wicks, and the gentle clip of his heels upon hardwood floors. As an orphan he only knew the cruelty of his aunt, uncle, and cousin as a reference for family. Tom had shown him what loyalty and affection felt like. He had shown him passion - and unfortunately, Harry had never been able to forget.

Even now, 12 years since he'd seen him, he ached for that feeling again. The excitement, the connection with another. It was something he didn’t feel in the stern looks or sharp knuckle raps of the nuns who raised him from age 16 on. Sometimes he would remember that kiss too, and he'd have to be in prayer all day to bring his mind back to his Lord, and away from every fantasy he'd constructed around it. A second set of heels began to clip over the floor behind him, but Harry completed his work and returned Bibles to their pews, trusting that the penitent would come to him or enter the confessional if he was needed. There had been no Mass today; on Thursday nights he usually only got traffic through the Church from those looking for solace in the building itself, or forgiveness.

Sure enough, he heard the door of the confessional open and close behind him, so he hastened to the other side, sitting next to the screen between the booths just in time to see a shadow move and kneel out of sight beside him. 

"Good evening, Father,” a smooth male voice murmured quietly. It sounded vaguely familiar, but not one he'd heard in confessional recently. Perhaps it was one of his new congregants; Harry's assignment to this Church several months prior had seen a large uptick in attendance.

The old Priest had been quite traditionalist and dry, if Harry was honest about his thoughts on Father Armando Dippet. He was supposed to learn under the aged Priest for a while before taking over the congregation, but the man had suddenly vanished a month into his new life in this town. The community had come flocking to his doors when he took over Mass out of curiosity, but Harry liked to think that his attendance now grew because he was truly connecting with his congregation.

"Good evening,” he replied, waiting for the man to speak patiently. 

There was silence for several long moments before the customary, "Bless me Father, for I have sinned. This is my first confession,” was uttered by the man. He still spoke very softly, but there was a hint of laughter in his voice this time. 

Harry frowned slightly, wondering if the man had come here to be mocking. Although if he truly wished to confess his sins for the first time, this could be a great opportunity to heal a damaged soul. "Would you like me to walk you through the steps of confession?" he asked kindly.

The penitent released a breath of air that sounded distinctly relieved. "Yes, Father Harry. Please." He spoke slightly louder this time, and there seemed to be a slight sibilant hiss to his words. "So far you're doing well. Now you should tell me what sins you have committed. You may tell me all of your sins, but to be absolved you must at least tell me all of your mortal sins,” he explained patiently. Truthfully, Absolution was the most difficult part of his education in becoming a Priest. It wasn't his place to question God's word, but he simply didn't see many of the "sins" as sins.

"What are 'mortal sins' Father? How are they different from regular sins?" the man asked, that tone of amusement lacing his words again. 

Harry didn't blame him. "A good question. Mortal sins are things like murder, blasphemy, adultery -" what was unmistakably an angry hiss now came from the booth next to him.

"I would NEVER commit something like adultery. I have always been loyal to the one I gave my heart to, even if we are not married,” the man said, his voice rising to a volume he'd not yet used since entering. The feeling of familiarity tugged at Harry again, but he put it aside for now. Who the penitent was shouldn't matter to him.

"That is good to hear; loyalty to the one you love will help keep you from lesser sins like lying," Harry soothed. Trying to defuse some of the tension, he added with a light chuckle, "Although I noticed that you didn't say you wouldn't murder or blaspheme." 

There was silence from the other man for a few moments before he murmured casually, "I will start with the lesser sins then. You're not needed anywhere else, are you? This may take a while..." 

And no, Harry had few other duties for the day. Besides which, his congregation always came first. "Not at all, please take your time and speak at your leisure,” he assured the other, trying not to feel discomfited by his response. There was something...deliberate about the things the man  didn't  say.

A hum came from the other side of the screen before a wave of warmth spread through the confessional, making the air strangely humid. It was late Spring though, so perhaps the Church's old air conditioning was failing. Harry made a mental note about it while he waited for the penitent to speak. 

When he did speak, it was in a tone unlike the others he'd heard from the man so far. It was silky, deep and husky, like he was speaking to Harry as a lover. He was glad for the screen as his face pinked.

"Ah Father, where should I begin? How about...my professional life. I have been in my career field for 12 years and have become very skilled at it. I had hoped my accomplishments would help me get something I've wanted for a very long time - all I needed was permission from my boss. He denied me, saying I needed to focus solely on work. I have been feeling...wrathful about it. And towards him." The man finished, seeming to wait for Harry's judgement. It reminded him vaguely of something Tom had mentioned in his latest letter. Although he hadn’t seen him since he was taken in by the Church at 16, he did still exchange letters with his old friend sometimes.

Tom was a salesman and recruiter now and had many clients to manage. His boss told him he could get some coveted new client if he finished out this current year of work with the man. Tom was suspicious he'd go back on his word. Harry decided to give this man a similar response that he’d given Tom. "Wrath has its place, in small amounts as long as we can manage it. We are all human, flawed - and being able to feel those things privately while still performing our duties diligently is not something I would reprimand you for. CAN you manage it?"  Harry truly wondered at the man's answer. He hadn't gotten a response from Tom yet, but that wasn't unusual. Their letters could be months apart.

The penitent chuckled, the sound somehow richer and darker the longer they spoke. "All humans? I don't agree, but yes - I can manage the situation, and my boss. Do you feel wrath, Father? Does your blood boil when these simple-minded folk flinch from you sometimes, muttering about The Boy Who Lived?" 

Harry swallowed. He didn't know what he meant about not agreeing - did he see himself as inhuman? What really threw him though, was that title. Although few people in this town knew him by it or dared to call him that now that he was a Priest, that title had haunted him his whole childhood. “How do you know about that?" he asked shakily. "How do you know who I am?"

The man hummed again before admitting, "I grew up in a town near here. You were quite famous among the gossips at my school. When I came to this town, I watched you from the back of the cathedral for a while when you held Mass. You're the first servant of God I've ever wanted to speak to. You have passion, conviction, beauty...you are captivating to watch...Harry." The way his name rolled off the mysterious man's tongue was reverent, full of longing. It made him shiver as it reminded Harry of the way HE always used to say it when they were alone. When he still was the Boy Who Lived.

Harry's parents had died when he was a year old, in a house fire. Nobody knew how Harry had survived, only that he was found on the lawn crying. He was sent to live with his mother's family, the Dursleys. They were terrible people, and until he met Tom at 9 years old, Harry had no friends. At age 11, he'd been chased down by Dudley's gang and managed to lose all but Piers Polkiss. The boy had Harry cornered in an alley, and although he fought him off at first, Piers had a bat and Harry was unarmed. He remembers a dull ringing in his head as the bat struck him and then falling to the ground. When he woke, Piers was dead - stabbed multiple times, while Harry was left alive.

There was another incident when he was 14, in his first year of High School. His Science teacher Mr. Snape hated him the moment he saw him. Harry had no idea why, but no matter how he tried in Mr. Snape's class, he'd end up in detention at the end of the day. Tom would always wait until he was released from the building to walk Harry home, but despite how Harry or Tom complained to the principal about his unfair treatment, nothing was ever done. Until the day Harry left his usual detention and a few hours later he and Tom were picked up from the park near the Dursleys' house by the police. Someone had slit Mr. Snape's throat at his desk. Luckily Tom was there as his alibi, or Harry might have been arrested for his murder.

Finally, at age 16, there was another house fire. The Dursleys all died while Harry was out of town for a state swim meet. The people in town began to call him the Boy Who Lived because as everyone around Harry died, he survived. They thought he was cursed, and none of his classmates’ families would take him in. Tom refused to have Harry under the same roof as his Uncle Morfin, saying the man couldn't be trusted and it would only put Harry in danger. So, he was taken in by the Church a town over while he finished school, and he hadn't spoken to or seen Tom since - except in letters, and dreams.

Harry scrambled for a response to the man. How had they gotten so off track from his confession? "I am pleased you enjoyed my services. As to your question, of course I feel wrath sometimes. And sloth, envy, pride...a Priest is still a man, after all." 

Harry opened his mouth to ask the other to move on to his next sins when suddenly he asked, "And lust, Father? I know you are a virgin as a man of God, but do you feel lust? Have you ever wanted another, carnally?" 

Harry turned crimson. He was  sure  it was getting warmer in this booth too. Or was that just him?

He finally managed to stutter out, "Th-that's unimportant. And it's your sins we're supposed to be discussing." He probably sounded guilty in his defensiveness, but...this was not a conversation he wished to have with anyone, much less a new member of his congregation. 

"I think it could be important, Father. The next sins I want to confess are of that nature - I'd feel more comfortable doing so if I knew that you weren't a total stranger to those feelings. Can you help me: assure me that I'm not uniquely wicked in this way?" 

But oh, the man  sounded  wicked. His words were whispered against the screen; Harry could see the outline of his full lips pressed against it.

Clenching his fists in his lap to stop their trembling, he decided to give the penitent a small measure of what he asked for - hopefully he would be satisfied. "I... before I began my journey to serve God, there was one person whom I gave my first and only kiss to. I decided to commit myself to the Church not because I don't feel those desires, but because I wanted to prove that I could be someone who is not cursed to hurt others around him. To heal." 

There was a ragged inhale of breath next to him, the man's face pressed more firmly against the screen now. "Your only kiss, Harry? Even before you took your vow of chastity, you stayed loyal?" The man asked this desperately, like a prayer.

Harry wondered at the man slipping from calling him "Father" to his first name when he was particularly emotional. He didn't mind his congregation addressing him by either, but they typically stuck to one or the other. Still, this seemed to be important to the man - loyalty was clearly a deeply held value, and if it helped to make him comfortable with Harry and get him back to his confession, he didn't see the harm in answering him. "Yes. Truthfully, I never wanted to kiss anyone else. But those feelings aren't.... alien to me. You can rest assured that I will not judge you. I am here to forgive you, as only God can judge." He hoped this would be the end of his side of the conversation.

The near sobs of joy took him entirely by surprise. The man had stood at last and began running his nails over the screen between them as if he was trying to claw through it to get to Harry. "Oh Father.  Harry.  You've made me so happy. I'm ready now - I will tell you everything. You'll listen to the end, won't you? You need to know why I did all of this. I need you to understand." The man sounded increasingly insane in his fervor, and Harry discreetly moved closer to the door of the confessional. The heat was now radiating through the space around him, and Harry found himself quite anxious to be out of this wooden box of sticky air and the man that was making him progressively more uncomfortable.

"Of course, I will listen," Harry responded, willing his voice not to waver. "Tell me your sins so I may give you Penance and Absolution." And then leave to get some fresh air and distance from his intense congregant. 

The man seemed to calm slightly. He remained pressed against the screen, but he'd lain his palms flat against it and taken several deep breaths before starting. "Bless me Father, for I have sinned. I have been consumed by lust and improper thoughts. I've coveted a man and thought of nothing but him as I pleasure myself each day. I  want  nobody but him, and every day my hunger for him grows." The man's breath had become labored again by the end of his confession, and Harry could hear a shifting in the next booth that suggested he was leaning his entire body against the thin wall between them.

Swallowing hard, Harry tried to sound as professional as possible even as he dug his nails into his palms to ground himself. "Is this man the one you've always been loyal to? If so, why do you feel it a sin to...desire him?" Something about the man was consuming. He seemed to pull the air from the space around them. The light did not seem to touch him, and no matter how closely his face pressed to the screen between them, Harry could make out only his full lips and what might be dark curls of hair.

"He is. But he is not currently  mine  to desire. He's committed himself to God. Tell me, Father, is it a sin then to imagine dropping to my knees in front of a Priest and taking Communion by swallowing his seed?" 

Harry jolted in his shock, tried to say something in response, and ultimately gave up as the man continued. "Don't mistake me, Harry. I love my Priest; I have since I was a child. But loving him from afar isn't enough anymore. I want to  make  love to him. I want to tell him, finally, how much I've done so we could be together. You said you'd listen, remember?"

Harry was shaking, utterly terrified. He was increasingly certain that  he  was the subject of this man's obsession, his burning lust. As if the space around the man answered to him, it burned hotter. Harry could see steam rising from his skin as he backed towards the door slowly, preparing to flee. He subtly moved a hand behind his back and searched for the handle, blurting out a too-loud answer of, "Yes, that would be a sin committed by you and by the Priest. Perhaps I can give you more guidance another day -" He had found the handle, and it would not turn in the slightest. He was trapped.

"Ah, I thought it might be. But why, Harry? Isn't love sacred? Can't I love my Priest with my body? Can't I worship with pleasure?” the  man responded, his voice heated. 

Harry could hear a slow and gentle thumping, as if on the other side of the screen, the owner of this wicked voice was  thrusting  against the wall between them. Harry tried to ignore how this made him begin to harden, his breaths already coming out in soft gasps because of the heat. 

"P-please," Harry breathed, not sure what he was begging for. For the man to stop talking? Let him out of the confessional? Because he knew somehow, he just  knew,  that the man was keeping him trapped in here.

This was the wrong thing to say. The man moaned and began dragging his nails down the screen again. "Oh Harry, how sweet you sound, pleading for me. Yes, I'll tell you more of my desires, I know you're curious. You always were." He said this knowingly, with far too much familiarity. A terrible suspicion was growing in Harry’s mind. "Let's move on to the mortal sins while we're on the subject. I murdered a man named Severus Snape. I snuck into the building just as you left and slit his throat while he graded homework - unfairly as always." 

Harry choked, trying anew to force the door open. This couldn't be happening.

"Sometimes I still get hard thinking about what it would have been like to stroke your cock with the hot blood that came pouring out of him. I was so happy to make your life better. I wanted to kiss you at the funeral we were all forced to attend on top of the worthless man's grave." 

That was - this man was beyond sick. Harry had to get out - it couldn't be - he wouldn't. It wasn't Tom. It wasn't. "L-let me out of here. I know you don't want to hurt me - you love me, right? It's so hot in here. I might - I might pass out." Harry prayed that this would work.

The man stilled and pulled away from the screen at last. "I lost control of - I'm so sorry, Harry. Give me some moments, and I'll fix it. Until then, you should take off those heavy clothes before you get heat exhaustion." Before Harry could object, a long-fingered hand pressed against the screen again and his clothing slid off his body like water, leaving him in only a pair of boxer briefs. In his haste and embarrassment as he tried to cover himself with his hands, it took Harry far too long to realize that was NOT something any human should be able to do. Just what WAS this man? Should he ask and risk his...its  anger?

"There, back to the temperature it was at when I entered." Harry supposed he had his eyes squeezed shut to concentrate on whatever unnatural power he possessed, because a moment after saying this, he inhaled loudly and shakily. "F-fuck Harry. How is your body even more stunning now than when you were a teenager? Do you still swim? It really is a shame to hide such beauty under long sleeves and that suffocating looking collar." The temperature HAD returned to normal, but Harry felt just as hot as he attempted to at least cover the front of his boxers. He could  feel  the other's eyes raking over his skin.

Harry did still swim, every week. He thought the feeling of cutting through the water, weightless and cool, was the closest thing to flying he'd ever feel. And again, this...man knew too much about him. He had to be Tom. Only he couldn't be, because Harry had grown up with Tom and he'd never been able to do things like melt people's clothes off or heat the air around him. He was unsure if asking was wise - if it WAS Tom, maybe Harry could convince him to let him out of the confessional so they could speak somewhere face to face. Around other people, in relative safety...if it WASN'T Tom, however, it might enrage him to mention another man's name.

This...person was clearly infatuated with Harry and had been since he was a child. Mr. Snape was killed when he was 14. Piers, however..."Did you - Did you kill Piers Polkiss too?" He was desperately hoping for a 'no.' The Boy had been killed when Harry was 11 and Piers was 12. They were both young children; could this man have been obsessed with him even then? Enough to brutally murder a 12-year-old child to defend Harry? There was a distinctly pleased sound like a purr that came from the other side of the screen.

"Of course, my Harry. I would have disposed of your cousin's entire little gang, but Piers' death seemed to be enough to get the message across. He was fortunate I didn't draw it out until he begged for mercy. You looked so hurt lying there unconscious, my love. I would have taken you from the ground, but someone was coming down the alley to smoke." Here, Harry heard the first low sounds of remorse in the man's voice. Not for anyone he'd killed, but for allowing Harry to wake up there on the ground of that alley. This was all so horrific that Harry could barely form words. And yet...a small, equally horrific part of him was touched that SOMEONE had bothered to protect him.

"I have disposed of any who'd harm you, Harry. They were nothing - Piers, Snape, the Dursley family, and Father Dippet-" 

Harry moved his hands to grasp his rosary as he often did to calm himself, but it had apparently been removed too. Instead, he returned his hands to the door, twisting at the handle with both hands now. "You killed my relatives too? You set that house on fire? Why?!" The only one who knew how they had treated Harry was -

"You know why, Harry. They deserved it most of all,” the man hissed in that sibilant voice. Suddenly, sharp nails punctured the screen between them and dragged slowly down the wall; somehow cutting through wood like it was tissue. Pale fingers wrapped around each side of the opening, before great crunching, snapping noises filled the booth as the man tore the wall open wide. Harry wanted to close his eyes and pretend this whole thing wasn't happening, but he had to know. It couldn't be, it wasn't -
Tom.

His best friend, his only love, Tom Riddle, walked through the wreckage towards Harry, in a perfectly tailored black suit. But he was not the Tom from his memories, and not because of the 12 years since. He looked 16 still, as if he'd been frozen in time the last day that Harry saw him - the day of their first and only kiss. His hair was still black with angelic looking curls, but there were small horns curving from his forehead to just behind his ears. His eyes had turned from their deep brown color to a glowing crimson, the pupils distinctly serpentine. Harry had never seen Tom's skin so pale, and his long fingers were black at the tips where they met his sharp nails.

He was a creature of terrifying beauty, and Harry was drawn to and repulsed by him in equal measures. 

"Tom," he breathed, feeling lightheaded. It was Tom. He'd killed everyone around Harry; he'd simultaneously caused Harry to run to the Church and doubt his commitment and faith once there. Maybe he WAS cursed after all. Tom didn't seem in a hurry to say anything, simply inspecting Harry as he moved to box him in against the door. Harry stopped trying to escape and moved his hands to Tom's chest to halt his movements forward.

Again, this was the wrong thing to do. His red eyes went wide before whatever calm he'd been maintaining snapped. His body crashed into Harry's, burning hot and pinning his arms ineffectually between their chests. His pale hands cradled Harry's face lovingly as he tried once more to plead for release, managing only, "Please, don-" before Tom's lips were on his. It was nothing like their first chaste kiss. Tom pressed his thumbs into the hinge of his jaw, forcing his mouth to open wide as Tom thrust his tongue into it.

Even at 16, Tom towered over Harry at his current height, and he used that to his advantage as he surrounded Harry on all sides. Tom was everywhere, his presence was rapidly expanding across Harry's vision like a shadow. Tom was  inside him,  his tongue wrapping around his own, and THAT was new too. It was probably twice the length of Harry’s and forked at the tip. He could feel the other half of his tongue slipping over his lips as he twined the serpentine muscle around Harry's mouth.

He attempted to free his tongue long enough to speak, but Tom was hardly giving his mouth enough room to breathe. Harry tried again to push against his chest, but whatever Tom was now (a demon, his Catholic training cried hysterically), he was inhumanly strong. He didn't seem to even notice as he wedged a knee between Harry's thighs and began undulating his hips against the thin fabric of Harry's boxers, an animalistic growl rising up his throat as he felt Harry hardening.

He was NOT supposed to enjoy this. His fantasies of what could have happened between them were just that. This was action though, and it was the most sinful thing that had ever happened to him. He needed to get away before he broke his vow, if it wasn't broken already. Tom removed a hand from his face to trail it down his body, sharp nails scraping along his side before grabbing his ass to move Harry's hips forcefully against the leg between his own...No! No this was - this was as close to sex as Harry had ever been. Panicking, he bit down on the tongue invading his mouth,  hard.

Tom finally pulled his mouth away with a gasp. There was a string of saliva and... black blood connecting their mouths. What could possibly have black blood but a demon? 

"Tom, wait, please wait and let me speak. I listened to you, didn't I? Won't you listen to me?" Some part of his friend still had to be in there, Harry prayed. If he'd been...this since 16, Harry had been writing to the creature he was now for 12 years. He might be able to reason with him, if he wasn't entirely too angered by Harry biting him.

But he didn't look angry. He looked overjoyed; a twisted smile he'd never seen on Tom's handsome face settled over his features as he panted out, "Yes, my Harry. Tell me what you want, and I'll do it." 

Harry swallowed nervously, and Tom watched his throat work intently as his smile spread even wider. "I want out of this booth. I want us to sit down and talk about things calmly. C-clearly we have a lot of catching up to do." Harry hoped the fear wasn't too noticeable in his voice.

Tom cocked his head slightly and hummed. "You're right, darling. I got a little...carried away. I seem to do a lot of that around you. The ritual will be easier in a larger space - yes, let's go." And with a wave of his hand, the door popped open at last. Harry rushed out and began making his way towards the back exit only a few feet behind the raised pulpit. He didn't care in the least at this moment if he ran out into the streets in nothing but his underwear. 

Trying to look like he was merely walking quickly to sit at the pews, Harry asked, "What ritual were you speaking of Tom? I doubt you're here to get baptized or anointed."

Tom prowled up to him, his face going soft and fond as he replied, "No, Harry. As much as I'd enjoy you rubbing my body with oil...this ritual will not be performed by you. It is one I have learned in the years we were apart. It took many years for me to get the secrets from my  boss," -  the word was said with a derisive hiss. "And in the end, he only gave up the final line after I broke half of the bones in his miserable old body. HIS death was as it should have been, at least." 

Harry trembled as he stumbled a few steps closer to the stairs leading to the pulpit. "You killed Albus?" Harry had only learned his boss's name a few years prior through Tom's letters.

Tom had been looking to the side thoughtfully, but snapped his gaze to Harry as he heard his shaky question. "Don't feel sorry for him, Harry. I know you are kind even to those who don't deserve it, but Albus was truly vile. A demon who only preyed on children; and he did indeed go back on his word to me. He found me as a child - that night you left for the Church. I was 16, but he said he'd been watching me since 11, since I killed Piers." Tom turned away slightly, as if ashamed to say the rest.

"I agreed to let him turn me into a demon, but it was supposed to be an exchange. I would help him collect souls and send them to hell, and he would tell me how to get what I always wanted - a family, eternally, with the one I loved. I was a fool to trust him." 

Harry didn't know what to say. It was obvious that Tom was a demon but hearing him SAY it tilted his whole worldview. Being a Priest didn't mean that he had believed in things like demons and angels. He saw them more as metaphors for the best and worst of human nature. Even more worrying though, was the final part of Tom's confession

"What-" Harry’s  voice wavered too much as he backed up another step, so he tried again, dreading the answer. "What do you mean by eternity with the one you love?" Surely, he didn't mean heaven, as a creature opposed to God's will. 

With his face still turned from Harry, Tom murmured, "I know you chose God, Harry, but I also know you loved me first. You love me most. You'll get used to the changes. I bet you'll even enjoy some of them, and I'll do everything in my power to make it an eternity of bliss for you. I promise you'll be far happier with me than here." He sounded heartbreakingly sincere, Harry thought, through the thick cloud of horror he'd submerged in. Almost romantic.

He turned and sprinted towards the back door, far closer to it than Tom was. It didn't matter. Tom caught him on the steps to the pulpit, inhumanly fast, too it seemed. "Shh darling, it won't hurt, I promise you," he whispered against Harry's ear as his arms locked around his torso. 

Harry thrashed in Tom's arms, his glasses flying off his face as he tried to slam the back of his skull into the demon behind him. Tom continued to whisper soothing words to him as he bore them both to the ground, bending Harry over the steps as he kneeled behind him. His boxers were torn to shreds as Tom ran his clawed hand over Harry's ass again, and he was now naked on hands and knees before the altar of his Lord.

Harry reached for the step above him, desperately trying to get a grip on it and pull himself away. "Don't Tom- stop this, please Tom-" he'd intended to come out here and try to talk the demon out of his obvious plan to fuck Harry, but now that he was naked and clawing to escape, all clever plans fled his mind in the face of sheer panic. He had NOT expected Tom to want to transform him into a demon as well. There was a small wave of heated air, and suddenly the body behind him was as bare as he was. Harry sobbed out his pleas this time; he was clearly not strong enough to escape Tom - his only hope was for his mercy.

"P-please Tom, this is not making love. If you love me, you wouldn't do this to me. Don't- please don't." 

Tom turned him over gently, still holding Harry firmly in his grip, he at least looked a bit sorry for what he was doing. "It will not hurt, my Harry. I would never hurt you. You've already begun the ritual, love." 

Harry was about to shout at Tom that he hadn't begun  a fucking thing  when he realized simultaneously that the exact Tom he remembered was now leaning over him, and that he could  see  Tom and everything around him perfectly fine without his glasses.

Tom's newly restored brown eyes crinkled into a smile as Harry looked around and at him wonderingly. "I thought it would calm you some if I looked human, like the last time you saw me. Usually, I can control my demon appearance and powers from manifesting, but you undo me, Harry." 

Harry thought bitterly that this was both better and worse, because the tragedy was that he  did  still love Tom - he'd never stopped. Giving his virginity to this Tom was a dream he'd often had. But now this Tom was going to  take  his virginity and turn him into a demon. "Why can I see?" he asked shakily as Tom bent forward to lay on top of him and free his hands.

"Ah, that's because you took my blood into your body, darling. That's how you started the ritual." Harry's brow furrowed as he thought back, while one of Tom's hands laced with his, and he began kissing tenderly along Harry's neck. Oh God..."The kiss. I bit you..." And Harry swallowed his blood. THAT'S why Tom looked so pleased. 

Tom hummed in confirmation against his neck, "And you are already undergoing the changes. All of your senses are about to sharpen." 

Harry's breath sped up as he tried to wiggle out from under Tom, managing only to make him moan rapturously as their erections slid against each other’s.

"Patience, Harry. I'm almost ready to move onto the next step in the ritual." His voice sounded strained as he continued, "After you take my blood, I am supposed to take yours. However, I never intended to hurt you to get your blood." Tom was panting now, shifting restlessly against Harry. "After hours of  questioning  Albus I got both the final line of incantation to use, and confirmation that any vital bodily fluid would work." Tom sat up suddenly, and Harry couldn't help how his eyes traveled down Tom's incredibly beautiful naked body. His mouth dropped open when he saw where Tom's other hand had been - his long fingers were plunging deep inside his body, slick with some lubricant that Harry hadn't even seen him apply.

Harry snapped out of his trance and used the moment of Tom's distraction to wrench his hand free and shield the length of his shamefully hard cock from view. "T-Tom you can't mean to." He swallowed hard and forced the words out, "You can't mean to take my semen into your body instead of blood, right?" 

Tom smiled, a smile full of love and longing. "That is exactly what I'm going to do, Harry. I'll say the full incantation while I ride you, and when you cum inside me, the ritual will be complete. We'll be together forever, my love." 

As DEMONS, Harry thought again, frantically. There didn't seem to be any point in begging; Tom would clearly not change his mind.

"Tom, my Tom. You don't have to - we can still be together. I'll be with you. Just...just as a human, ok?" It sounded weak even to Harry, but he had taken vows, dedicated his entire life to God. He had to TRY to hold onto the life he'd chosen. 

Tom sighed and gave him a small smile as he grabbed both of Harry's wrists in his free hand. "No, Harry, this is the only way. One lifetime isn't enough for me. I want you forever." He removed his lubricated fingers with a wet squelch and wrapped the slick digits around Harry's erection, stroking him with a hungry expression as Harry writhed under the pleasure. It felt so much better than his own hand, and Harry couldn't help the whimpers of need any more than he could help the tears that began streaking down his cheeks.

"This was always the plan. I'm sorry I didn't share it with you, but from now on I'll tell you everything. Now, we're one, my love." Tom kneeled over him for a moment, panting and scanning over Harry as if to burn this scene into his memory before positioning Harry at his entrance and slamming his hips down. 

They both shouted at the sudden penetration. Harry was trying desperately not to thrust into the tight bliss of Tom's body as his chest trembled with sobs. He was no longer pure. He'd broken his vows to God, to himself - he'd sworn to become a good person when he grew up and now, he won't even be a  person.

Tom's brow was furrowed in pain, but otherwise he radiated joy. The red of his demonic eyes had broken through whatever disguise he'd used before, and his serpentine pupils were blown wide in pleasure. His mouth hung open, the corners of his lips curling into a smile as his long-forked tongue lolled out. While he adjusted to Harry's length inside him, he threaded each of his hands with Harry's, pinning them to the ground in a hold that looked incredibly sweet but was absolutely immovable. The stairs below Harrydug sharply into his back, but he welcomed the discomfort as he wasn't sure he wouldn't have orgasmed already without it.

After what felt like minutes but was probably seconds, Tom rose a few inches and dropped back down to Harry's hips, hissing loudly. He found a slow, swiveling pace and clenched his ass around the tip every time he moved up, looking like he was  playing  with Harry's cock inside him. Harry had stopped sobbing, but tears continued to trail silently down his face as he moaned, helpless to resist the simple fact that this was the best fucking thing he'd ever felt. He tried half-heartedly to free his hands, but it did nothing but make Tom chuckle and promise he'd speed up soon.

"Fuck Harry - I was always trying to get a peek when we were growing up. I never managed to. You were so careful. I should have known you'd have this huge, thick cock. Everything - everything about you is perfect." Tom  panted, pushing against their joined hands for leverage as he rode Harry faster. 

Harry couldn't stop the litany of curses spilling from his mouth as the slap of skin hitting skin echoed around the Church. "Fuck- Oh fuck, Tom - shit, you're so tight." His thrashing head caused him to catch sight of Christ suffering on the cross above him as Tom began growling in that voice that was more demon than man. He looked away shamefaced, appalled that he'd forgotten for even a moment. "Forgive me, God, forgive me," Harry pleaded, squeezing his eyes closed.

".... look at me, Harry," Tom hissed. Harry gasped as he looked upon the demon that Tom was again, horns gleaming in the light of the altar candles and skin pale as bone. His red eyes were crackling like hell fire. "He will never forgive you. A demon has defiled you, and you have defiled me - I was a virgin too, my Harry. You're  inside a demon.  And my blood is inside you. He will not want you now. But I do; my love is not conditional. I will love you forever." 

Harry could see that Tom truly believed every word of that; and sadly, Harry believed it too. There was no forgiveness for breaking his vows  and enjoying it,  however unwillingly. No penance would be enough. Even if Tom didn't turn him into a demon, he was damned.

Harry thought - as Tom began chanting in some unnerving tongue consisting mostly of hissing sounds - he also believed that he would love Harry forever. Harry's love was unconditional too, and although his rapidly approaching orgasm made him want to weep in grief for all he would lose, he would then have Tom. 

"I-it's done Harry. When you cum in me, you join our souls for all time." Tom struggled through these last reverent words before moving his hands to Harry's chest. 

Harry gave in and gripped Tom's hips tightly as his demon arched his back and bounced enthusiastically on his cock, the wanton display making him whimper as his hips thrust up sharply. He was going to come whether he wanted to or not; maybe he should just enjoy it.

"Harry - fuck, I'm c-oming - feed me - Communion?" Tom moaned, lips curving wickedly before his cum shot out and painted Harry's chest. It was incredibly hot as it landed on Harry's skin, and he imagined it would scorch a path down his throat. 

Harry barely heard the growls and whispered words of praises over his own thundering pulse as he came undone, the squeezing of his demon's walls around him too much to bear. He sobbed as he felt the warm pulses of his cum filling Tom, both because it was the most overwhelming pleasure he'd ever experienced and because he could already feel it happening.

His forehead burned as horns came spiraling from his skin, the hands he gripped Tom with itched as sharp claws began growing from his fingertips, and every sense he had exploded in a dizzying array of information. He could hear a thrush outside the church tapping against the wall; could taste the sweat and semen coating both of their bodies on the air, as his long tongue flicked out and he panted through the last waves of his orgasm. The smells of wax, wood polish, dust, incense, and sex seemed to be everywhere. It was too much. Tom was saying something to him in a soothing voice, but Harry's consciousness was rapidly fading as black started to crowd his vision.

××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××

The moments before he opened his eyes, he could almost tell himself it had all been a dream. The stillness of the Church surrounded him, calming as always. There was no sensory overload for the moment, and he felt some new perception settle and slot into place beside the others, but it was like drinking a heady glass of wine - a pleasant buzz of otherness. He thought he'd go on resting with his eyes closed - until a long, hot tongue slithered around his cock like a snake.

Harry's eyes popped open as he shifted onto his elbows and looked down at the demon sliding his circled tongue up and down his hardening length as if it was a fist. His red eyes flicked up to meet Harry's, and a deep moan rumbled from his throat as his eyes scanned his new features. Harry looked first at the black tips of his fingers ending in sharp white nails, then moved to his head, shaking fingers tracing the shape of his new horns. They flared out past the sides of his skull before growing up, with small branches along the way...not horns, then. Antlers. Stag antlers.

Tom moaned again as he slid his mouth down Harry, chasing a bead of precum that dribbled out before sealing his lips around Harry's tip, suckling at the head and swallowing any drops that he could. How he was already this hard again he had no idea - except that maybe it was a demon thing. Because Harry was a demon now.  Tom  had turned him into a demon. Then, he took it upon himself to slurp and swallow the cum from his cock like a thirsty whore while he lay passed out on the floor. Harry was suddenly enraged.

"Tom,” snapped, the single word coming out in an angry hiss. He reached down and grabbed one of Tom's horns, pulling him up to eye-level as Harry sat upright. 

Tom could clearly see that he was angry judging by his pleased little smirk as he said innocently, "Yes, Harry? Did you need something?" 

Harry ground his teeth as he fought for calm. Yes, he loved Tom. Yes, he would spend eternity with him. But no, that did not mean he wasn't going to make it very fucking clear how he felt about Tom's methods. That did NOT mean he was going to excuse him from punishment.

"No, Tom. But there is something you need,” he  purred silkily. A flash of apprehension went through the other demon's eyes at Harry's tone. "Penance,” he stated. "You confessed your sins, but I did not assign you penance to achieve forgiveness. You will serve your penance  now,"  Harry concluded with a venomous hiss. 

Tom's eyes went wide as he panted excitedly, "Yes, Father." 

With a growl, Harry yanked Tom into a kneeling position in front of him. It was almost easy to manhandle him now with his demonic strength.

"Spread your arms straight out to your sides like the sign of the cross.  Do not drop them  or your punishment will be worse,” he warned menacingly. Tom inhaled shakily as he complied, his fingers already trembling where they were extended, palms out. "Spread your legs, Tom. Do you know The Act of Contrition?" 

Tom's thighs spread and he shook his head no. 

"Then you will repeat after me," Harry instructed, before bending Tom forward slightly and holding his neck and waist as he slammed his cock back inside him. He was not gentle about it, and as Tom had said, he was huge. He'd never cared since his teenage years that his length was 9 and 1/2 inches, as he didn't think he'd ever use it for sex. But  now  it was quite gratifying to hear Tom's choked off scream as he impaled him on it.

"My God, I am sorry for my sins with all my heart. In choosing to do wrong and failing to do good,"  Harry recited as he thrust roughly, looking for that spot he knew from his adolescent porn searching days would make this  truly  a punishment for his infuriating lover. He was a demon now, and he felt justified in taking out his grief and anger about his foiled plans on the one who had caused it. Tom gasped these first lines out hurriedly between each of Harry's strokes, and he smirked as he realized that Tom was simply  so hungry  for Harry that he was already fighting another orgasm.

"I think you know better than to cum before I allow you to, don't you?" 

Tom's arms drooped a bit at that but quickly straightened back out as he said, "Yes, Father. I'll be good." Hm. Did Tom have a daddy kink on top of his obvious Priest kink? Harry wondered if he was particularly pleased about looking 16 then while Harry would always look like a grown man.

"I have sinned against you whom I should love above all things."  Harry especially wanted this part to get through to Tom if they were going to spend all their years together. Luckily, he found Tom's prostate just as he finished reciting. 

"I have sinned against you - fuck Harry, please! W-whom I should love -" 

Harry sped up his thrusts, making sure to hit that spot with every snap of his hips. Tom was forced to repeat it over and over again as he could barely speak through his whining moans.

"Y-you whom I -should l-love... n-not so hard, Harry please  please-" 

Harry simply wrapped his fingers tightly around the base of Tom's cock and said, "If you want to cum, you'll endure it.  Again."   When Tom finally managed the lines without stopping to beg, Harry asked, "You understand why I'm angry, don't you? You took my choices from me. If we will be together forever, it will be as  equals."  The effort it took to speak evenly while fucking Tom more brutally than he'd ever imagined doing was tremendous, but he  needed  to understand that Harry would not tolerate this behavior towards him again. 

"Yes Harry, yes yes I'll be good- Father, please -never force anything, n-never again."

Harry pulled his head back with a horn so he could look into his eyes to see if he was being sincere.  Hot tears streaked down his cheeks, and as Harry's gaze lowered further, he saw that the head of Tom's cock had turned an angry red. "Then repeat this: I firmly intend, with your help, to do penance, to sin no more." 

Tom did, looking into Harry's eyes the entire time even as tears continued dripping down his face. 

"Good boy, your Father is proud of you," Harry cooed, noting the distinct hitch in Tom's breath and how precum dribbled copiously down to where Harry's hand prevented his orgasm. Well, that seemed to be a 'yes' to the daddy kink.

"Prayers for forgiveness end by begging for mercy," Harry panted out, letting Tom decide what to say. That HE was able to hold off his own orgasm this long was surely due only to pure  spite.  He would not lose himself to pleasure again and let Tom think he could decide what was best for Harry forever. Although he  wasn't  very happy or fulfilled as a Priest, he would never admit that to Tom.

"I - I beg for your mercy. Please - allow me to serve you, to love you -" Tom's voice cracked before he began speaking in that hissing tongue again, and to Harry's surprise, he understood it this time as he begged " allow me to worship you."  And truly, Harry would have been a terrible Priest if the way he almost immediately came at this was any indication. Deciding to skip the Prayer of Absolution for both their sakes, he merely responded, "Amen."

The moment Tom repeated the word, Harry loosened the vice of his fingers around his cock and stroked him in time with his thrusts, the amount of precum covering his hand making any other lubrication unnecessary. He should get Tom to teach him that trick eventually though...

"Fa - Harry, I'm - I love -" Tom's arms finally dropped as he clutched at Harry's around his waist and screamed, the sound strangely layered and bestial like a dark choir. Something in his new nature recognized it, and Harry let out a similar noise when he felt Tom's clenching muscles suck the cum from him as greedily as his mouth had earlier.

Harry lowered them both gently to the floor, pulling Tom into his arms and looking into his fiery red eyes - the same ones he was sure HE now possessed. Tom's whole body trembled in the circle of Harry's arms, but his eyes held such love, bliss, and hope. 

Harry smiled at him softly, moving a sweaty curl off his forehead. "Give thanks to your Lord for He is good; your sins are forgiven. Go in peace." 

A dazzling, almost innocent smile stretched across Tom's lips. It was an expression he'd only seen on his dear friend's face a few times during their childhood. They always involved Harry. "Thanks be to  my God,” he whispered, cupping Harry's face. 

Tom leaned forward to close the distance between their lips, brushing along his mouth gently as Harry whispered in return "I love you Tom Riddle. Forever."