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Voldemort looks around the ballroom of 'Black Manor'; it is full of the most powerful families in the wizarding world of Europe, and he quickly counts how many belong to him.
He sees there is one missing, the elusive Black Heir.
Sirius Black was taken out of Hogwarts after being sorted into Gryffindor. They couldn't enroll him in other schools but could homeschool him. Slughorn went back and forth to administer his exams, ensuring that Sirius was still registered at Hogwarts. They had never allowed their younger son, Regulus, to go there in the first place. Dumbledore had a keen interest in Sirius from what he had heard. Sirius was a prodigy, academically gifted, as powerful as the Blacks of old, and the Black madness hadn't touched him yet. They had taken him out of Walburga's care. They placed him with Melania as a precaution, hoping her MacMillan tendencies combined with her gentle Omega nature would keep away any signs of the Black Madness before they appeared lest they have another Bellatrix on their hands. She was talented and influential, but her anger and bloodlust were legendary.
He looked around and spotted Regulus quickly. His cousins and their spouses surrounded him, but Sirius was nowhere to be seen in their little circle.
He took a minute to cast a strong 'notice me not' around himself as he wandered around Black Manor and looked for Sirius himself. He hadn't seen the boy since he was extremely young and wanted to see what was so special about the boy that Dumbledore repeatedly attempted to get his influence over him.
As he walked through the manor, he reached out with his magic, trying to see if he could find anything.
A room on the third floor was warded shut.
He slowly made his way towards that room.
Standing outside the door labeled 'Sirius O. Black,' he wondered why the Black Heir would be shut away during Arcturus Black's 75th birthday celebration.
He found a small hole in the wards and disassembled them enough to allow himself through without setting off any alarms when he smelled it—an omega in heat. The heat was powerful; Sirius must be one of the most powerful wizards he had encountered in decades. He wondered what kind of power he would grow to have in the future if he was this powerful at 16. He looked at the beautiful boy sleeping in bed, obviously under a charm to help him relax until the worst of it set in. It makes sense why they would not want him in a ballroom; an unmated omega this powerful could set off a war.
As a young man, Tom Riddle prided himself on his self-control. Even during his ruts, he took care of them mostly alone. He'd sometimes satisfy himself with one of his followers, but nobody immensely appealed to him. But he was finding his body and his mind having ideas just being in the vicinity of Sirius.
"Mipsy," he called for his elf
"master," she bowed as soon as she entered his presence.
"Go to my vaults and retrieve Lilith's ring. I feel I've found the one it's destined for."
She didn't bother to deny her excitement as she popped off with a pep in her step.
Cadmus Peverll had designed a ring for his beloved, hoping to gift it to her when he brought her back from the dead. But she came back different, uninterested, and the ring had remained in their family vault.
No matter who their ancestors had tried to gift it to, no matter the depth of their love, the ring stubbornly refused to be worn on anyone's finger.
Cadmus and his brothers Antioch and Ignotus had changed how wizards approach death, and it was said that when they found their descendant, that would change the way wizards approach life, that this descendant would be so powerful that they'd have a fated mate. A mate to help balance their power and passion, and the ring would finally be worn.
Voldemort had no idea if the story was true, but he knew he was descended from the brothers, meant to change the world, and had never had a romantic thought until this moment. He wasn't sure what possessed him to try, but he needed to.
Voldemort slowly made his way towards the bed, never taking his eyes off Sirius's gorgeous face. Truly the face of an angel. If Tom believed in the Muggle god the orphanage had tried to press upon him in his childhood, he would wholeheartedly believe that the man on the bed before him was a divine angel of the highest order, created by religious order. His beauty was borderline obscene with his pouty lips and creamy skin. He watches with interest as he sees Sirius' eyes fluttering open.
"Alpha...." he breathes,
"Yes, my darling Omega, your Alpha is here."
he stops at the side of the bed, unsure if he should go farther, when Mispy pops back in with the ring.
He carefully opens the Black Velvet box and stares at the ring inside. Its pattern matches that of the cloak gifted to Ignotus. It's beautiful, and it seems to glow as he takes it out and moves it towards Sirius' left arm. Sirius watches him, breathing hard as he feels the effects of his heat grow more robust in the vicinity of an Alpha as strong as himself. He can slip it onto Sirius's hand, and it glows.
He feels a betrothal bond snap into place between them.
"My Lord," Sirius breathes out as the bed dips under the weight of Voldemort's knee. Nothing can stop him from claiming his Omega tonight. He will make sure Sirius claims him back. He'll come into power with his consort by his side, he decides.
With the snap of his fingers, they're both naked, and Mipsy disappears, presumably to prepare for Sirius coming home with him starting tonight.
He does everything in his power to stay slow and gentle with his inexperienced Omega; he uses all the willpower he has in his body to not claim his slick arse as his own immediately. He would never hurt his consort; no, he'd take his time and always show his omega that he was a prized possession. The most treasured of all the things Voldemort calls his own.
As he kisses Sirius, a steady stream of "mine mine mine" begins in his head, and he covers Sirius' perfect body with his own larger body.
Just as he begins to make his way down to his Omega's perfect little pink prick, he hears his old classmate, Walburga, in the hallway. She's making a commotion over something. Perhaps the house had reacted to the betrothal bond snapping into place. Either way, he's not fussed. He continues to ignore her until she's up against the door and begins cursing Sirius' name through it, and he can smell a small amount of fear creep into his scent. He doesn't like that his Omega would fear someone.
He reaches out with his magic and snaps her neck right at the door before she can open it and disturb their first night together.
Sirius giggles and arches his back as a sign for him to get on with it.
Voldemort mentally pats himself on the back for a job well done, his omega is pleased, and he begins to stroke Sirius' prick as he licks into his arse; nothing will disturb them tonight.
Nobody would disturb them ever, he swore to himself.
He's found the perfect Omega.