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All The Things I Wanted To Hear	By : Epithode Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Slash - Male/Male Views: 6300 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: JK Rowling is a goddess. Do I look like a goddess to you? Then I don't own Harry Potter, now do I? I don't make money off of this either, which should be clear but apparently isn't. Do not own, do not make money of any sort. Got it? Good.

Chapter List
- 1
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A/N: This fanfiction was written for Alice. Which means it may not be your cup of tea. This fic involves Voldemort saving: He WILL be out of character. This fic is open-beginninged and ended (Well, unless she loves it I may add some more in that case.) The style is not the usual style of HP saves everyone by going back in time fics.

Pairing: HP/TR

Confident!Harry, Inlove!Tom

JK Rowling is a goddess. Do I LOOK like a goddess? Then I guess I don't own Harry Potter, now do I?

All The Things I Wanted To Hear by Epithode
Tom had tried to convince himself that this actually made some degree of sense; which had half worked because it was slightly true. This way of thinking had only developed over the last few days. The kind that ran in circles like a chicken with it's head cut off and seemed to have no end. This had never happened before.
Tom tried to think about what was “normal” for him. Well, he thought, I usually think along very logical lines. I don't worry too much about what people say when they talk unless it has some other meaning. I read into actions. I usually think in what I would consider to be a straight line. Cause and effect. So...the cause here is Harry's- Potter's- attitude toward me, and the effect here is...a crush. Or is the cause my crush and the effect is what I notice about Harry- Potter?
This was what was abnormal. The last few sentences didn't make sense even in his own head. Why did he keep replacing Harry's- POTTER'S- name in his head, as if proving to himself he didn't care too much? Why did he seem unable to come up with the order of events? Even thinking back on them didn't help.

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A little over nine months ago there was a new addition to his little orphanage when he returned from traveling for a week to rest before the school year. Everyone had been surprised to see him. Understandable, seeing as he had not returned for one and a half summers, preferring to stay at the houses of.... friends.
But Harry Potter was there. In his room. He had insisted, apparently, on moving a different bed into the room than Tom's. “In case he wants to come back, Ms. Cole. I mean.... what if he doesn't have a place to stay? Maybe he's traveling. Or maybe he just went to a...a friend's house...last summer.” He had been quite right. Tom hadn't counted on his room being taken at all, as some of his things; his muggle things, that is, were still there.
“Potter?”
“Yes. You recognize it right?” Harry said with a smile, ignoring the obvious scrutiny Tom was giving him.
“I know a family of that name.” Tom admitted. “Though not personally.” Only while searching for my own.
“Yes, it's my family.” Harry said confidently. “I thought you might know because I saw that you had 'Quidditch Throughout the Ages.'”
Tom ignored the book that Lestrange had practically forced on a completely uninterested person to suit his own fancy and get Tom interested. “I haven't seen any Potters at Hogwarts.” He said, slightly accusingly.
“Oh, no. My parents lived in Germany and sent me out to Durmstrang. But...I don't care for the curriculum.” Tom raised one eyebrow. He, personally, loved everything he'd heard about the curriculum at Drumstang. “So they....when they passed away this year I secured a last-minute transfer with the help of...your transfiguration teacher?”
“Professor Dumbledore.”
“Yes! Yes. I've heard great things about him.” Harry told him.
“You have a very British accent for someone raised in Germany and Bolivia. ” Tom said as if joking, though he really felt quite suspicious.
“Oh that: Yes my parents would bring me down here for holiday every year and, well....I was here until I was almost nine so I never really developed an accent.” While Tom was processing this information, Harry smiled “I can do vwon if you like though.” he said in a heavy accent. Tom couldn't help but offer the tiniest smile back. It was, after all, quite funny.
“That's quite alright. But thank you.” He joked back, and wondered at the open and sweet smile the other had to offer.
But for the first few days Tom's heart sank with every passing hour near Harry. He was, after all, a muggle-lover, a proudly admitted half-blood, and obviously Dumbledore's man through and through. Tom despised muggles for being so stupid and in the way, hated his muggle father and heritage, prized his Slytherin ancestry and hated Albus Dumbledore's knowledge of his secret self, which he had unwittingly shown too much of upon their first meeting. But worst of all, no matter how many polite hints Tom dropped that he was a Slytherin and Harry wouldn't really fit in with his group at Hogwarts, Harry seemed to adamantly cling to Tom with fervor.
Until, finally, one day Harry said the first of a series of the most ridiculous, sentimental and wonderful sentences Tom had ever heard. The first was “I really like you, Tom.”
Of course Tom had heard this sentence before, but never from someone who had never, say, seen him cast a spell. Or someone he hadn't been practicing the subtle charm he was so good at on. In fact, Harry hadn't seem him do anything notable and had been pushed as far away from Tom as he could get Harry in his tiny room. He had no clue how to respond, but Harry didn't seem to need a response. He glanced at Tom, smiled (perhaps at the look of surprise he had given Harry) and went back to writing his notes on some homework he was apparently getting ahead on, talking away as usual (and certainly as if NOTHING had happened.)
The next sentence hadn't come out until Tom's worst nightmares seemed to have been realized. How Harry- Potter- had been chosen for Slytherin house- it was beyond him. It was as if the universe had collapsed. Carefree, brave, talks your ear off, I like you Tom, HARRY. A SLYTHERIN. Tom contained his anger and clapped. He shook Harry's hand with what he deemed as the most fake smile hehad ever had to give plastered on his face politely. And then Harry said “I'm so happy about Slytherin, Tom. Now we can spent more time together. I just knew we'd be great friends.”
At first Tom thought he was being sarcastic. He made introductions for Harry and spent the rest of the evening ignoring him. But the next morning he couldn't pretend he hated that Harry was there to great him cheerfully and hand him a chocolate frog, just like those mornings in the week before in their room. When had it become...their room?
This wasn't the end of Tom's troubles. First, Harry refused to call him Voldemort. He told all of Tom's friends that this was a “fad” he was going through and his dad had gone through the same thing: “Told his best friends to call him Prongs haha! Prongs! We all come up with those silly things. What's Voldemort mean, Tom?”
And not a week later the next sentence in the series revealed itself. “I'm so glad we're friends Tom. You're the best friend I've got.” They were alone in the common room, clearing off a large advanced Defence essay, and Harry leaned over and rested his head on Tom's shoulder, closing his eyes as if he were in heaven. Tom jumped about a foot, but Harry didn't seem to have noticed.
All sorts of emotions and words fought to the surface at once, which included “Get off!” “What are you doing?” “Me too, Harry.” and “Do NOT touch me or I WILL kill you!” Unsure what to do about the jumble, Tom closed his eyes too, leaned back in his chair and stood stark still for several minutes.
His first “E” on an essay in his entire student career.
And Harry was there “I'm so sorry Tom! You'll do better next time. Chocolate frog? Hey- let's go to Slughorn's party this weekend, too. I told Slughorn I'd bring my best friend and he goes 'Tom?'” Harry winked as if he were Slughorn and began to laugh.
Tom wanted to shout “THIS, this is all your fault!” but the phrase that fought it's way up to tag on made the sentence sound more like “This is all your fault for making me feel so close to you! I can't work with you making me so comfortable!” and forced him stop in his tracks. He took the chocolate frog.
The second to last time happened a few months after the others. Tom was finally feeling free of Harry's ever so friendly ways and letting his guard down for the first time around Harry.
“Tom...” Harry said one night as everyone else lay snoring. Tom was going to pretend he was asleep, but before he could he was answering the call! “Tom, I think you're amazing.”Harry replied immediately “You know...I really love you.”
For the first time since he was very, very young Tom choked back tears. “Hmph.” He said, as if indifferent. “Tell that to my parents.”
“Ms. Cole told me your mother died, Tom...she couldn't help leaving you any more than my parents could me.”
Tom sat bult upright. This...this PERSON. He didn't know ANYTHING. “Yes,” he said, barely containing his anger “but my muggle father abandon me.”
To his surprise Harry let out a soft chuckle. “What a fool. He never cared to venture in his mind how sweet you'd be.”
Tom laid down, containing the sob but not the tears. No one had ever said anything like that to him. Sweet? Amazing? His best friend? He LOVED him? No. No one had ever loved him. He realized with a start that this was the reason he felt the need to take revenge on the world. Did that really have to happen? Did he really have to take it out on everyone when he could have a real relationship? With another jolt the conclusion ran directly into his mind I haven't really tried, have I?
This was where the real trouble had started. Then, just a week ago, Harry felt the need to remind him of the promise he hadn't even known he promised. With a hug. Not a girly hug. Just wrapping his arm around Tom's shoulder after Tom had had a horrible day dealing with everyone and they were just all so stupid!
“Tom, I know you're upset right now but...just...you know I'm....er....I'm here.” Apparently saying these kinds of things while looking at Tom was a lot harder for Harry than normal, which was to be expected. Every time Harry had done anything sweet he did it to Tom when they were alone. In public and with his other friends and facing Tom so directly, he was more awkward. His words came out wrong.
But he knew what to say with Tom... because he really loved Tom. So began the crush: well, that was one theory anyway. After those moments of sweet contact with Harry, Tom couldn't get enough. Just yesterday he had returned the embrace that his friend had given him. And Harry had leaned into his arm. Does...does that mean he likes me? Tom had never felt so unsure about anything in his life.

So why did it seem to make some degree of sense? Because he was, after all, fifteen. He was, after all, a young man with hormones and crazy ideas and mad crushes and thoughts that ran all over the place. The trouble was....he usually wasn't. No. Usually, I am not running around thinking I am falling in love with every classmate. Usually I can focus completely on myself. Usually I can read into such actions and words and say “he just wants something out of me.” Usually, I have no use for sex besides what it gants me in control over another person, if I need them. So yes, I am fifteen, but I am not hormonally driven and confused.
But that didn't seem to be true either. It had been until up to half a year ago, and it was just now getting to the point Tom could call it “bad.” And the fact that he had it “bad” didn't seem to have escaped all notice, even if Harry felt oblivious.
Slughorn had started calling them “Tom and Harry.” As if they were one entity with twice the amount of respectability than one of them would be alone. He acted like they were... a couple. Tom sneered inwardly at the thought.
Like yesterday....
“Tom and Harry: don't forget your potion essay.”
“Essays, professor. You mean essays, don't you sir?” Tom said with a charming smile.
Slughorn winked “With you two tied at the hip?”
(Harry had taken this to mean he didn't have to do his own until Tom scolded him for copying. Harry had started his own, but not before laughing at Tom's obvious anger, and thus succeeding in difusing it.)
And on last Tuesday:
“Oh, and Tom tell your boyf- I mean, I mean....” and nervously, “haha boyfriend...hahaha...Tell Harry that I expect him to be done with that new quidditch training sequence by tomorrow afternoon. Right. Harry. Haha...”
Tom blushed for the first time in living memory. “Yes, sir.”
Dumbledore was an entirely different and much more annoying (in his own way) about the whole matter. He had apparently decided that Tom and Harry had a mutual “partnership” ....sexually....but wanted to maintain secrecy.
He had apparently pulled a confused Harry, whom he felt was easier approached, aside to inform him that “he was on their side” and if he “could help in any way” he was willing to do so. He had also said that “he was worried about Tom's relationships until Harry came into his life” and was relieved that he had “learned to love someone with such passion.” (Professor Dumbledore's words.)
Passion. PASSION. How in Merlin's name, thought Tom, did Harry MISS this implication? He had come bouncing back to Tom, brandishing the subject to Tom like a powerful sword he wanted to show off, or the fucking Elder Wand. He, at least, seemed to think Dumbledore was somehow talking about their “great friendship” and the fact that they were “inseperable” and Tom finally had someone he was in “an equal and mutual friendship” with. (Harry's words.)
He had seemed slightly confused when Tom had blown up at him, telling him they were just friends and Dumbledore had no right to worry about his relationships of any kind. Even when Tom had apologized Harry was on eggshells for several days.
Likewise, Hogsmead residents had noticed. The barkeeper at the Hog's Head, who's name Tom had never bothered to memorize but Harry called “Aberforth” smiled fairly widely when they walked into the bar alone. “Private table?” He asked. If Tom knew one thing about the Hog's Head bartender he knew for a fact he had never offered the private tables on the back patio to anyone but couples. Too embarrassed to bring this up, and mentally stabbing his friend for immediately saying “That'd be great, Aberforth.” Tom had followed him to the back, where he tried not to think about how hot Harry was in semi-muggle clothes, which fit him much tighter, than in his robes. (He could have honestly said until this very moment that he had never had such a thought about anyone in his life.)
More annoying was the fact that Professor Dumbledore seemed to know all about this incident!
The girl working in Zonkos had also began unabashedly calling the two of them “lovers.” Gryffindors thought this was very funny and they received constant jeers about their so-called love life. Tom had to be secretly thankful to Professor Dumbledore, who, after finding a group of four doing this in what they believed to be out of earshot of the teachers, gave them detention for 3 weeks and a long lecture on open-mindedness and not making assumptions about others.
But for all the teasing and the hints, Tom couldn't help but feel the pain the most from the fact that none of this was true. He wasn't with Harry, but God he wished he was. It had even occurred to Tom to check himself for any traces of a love potion. No such thing existed according to the tests he had done on himself. Only afterwards did he notice that if it were a love potion the chances of his noticing it would be very slim. On the other hand, other people would have noticed fairly quickly.
“Tom?”
“Hm?” Tom came out of a trance faster than a snitch headed for safety from a seeker. Only Harry's voice could make him do this, and he inwardly scolded himself.
“Are you alright?” Harry asked. “You seem a little distracted lately.”
And whom do I have to blame for that situation? Tom asked himself before answering. “Yes...I was just thinking about tomorrow's O.W.L.s.”
“Really? You seemed confident enough before.”
Maybe to you. I'm too worried now I won't be able to think of anything else but you! “Well, I feel I have at least studied hard enough.” Tom replied vaguely.
“You know,” Harry said, sensing (in a way that always made Tom angry) that his friend was in turmoil. “If you want to talk about something, I'm right here.”
They were, once again, alone in the common room, sitting by the fire on a plush couch. Tom sighed. Harry waited. He turned to face Tom on the couch, patiently anticipating that Tom would open up and share his thoughts. Tom just looked back at him.
“I hate you.” Harry looked taken aback. Tom shook his head quickly “I'm so sorry! Harry that isn't what I meant to say at all!” Harry stared at him like he was crazy. Tom hated that look, and had never seen Harry make it before. “No! Really!” Tom stood and began to pace. “I...I feel so confused!”
As usual, several different thoughts had collided in Tom's head, except this time it had happened right before he spoke.
“You came, and everything just changed. As if I had no hand in my own fate. People are just squeezing the life out of me pretending we are together and it just....” He was talking more to himself now, but Harry interjected anyway.
“It's just a bunch of stupid...people.” It was always hard for Harry to talk ill of other houses, and Gryffindors, for some reason, seemed to hold a special place in his heart. It occurred to Tom for the first time that he might have a crush on a Gryffindor and he automatically wanted to squeeze the life out of whoever it was.
Pushing that thought from his mind, Tom burst open “Oh yes? What about the...Aber whatever!”
“Uh...Aberforth?” Harry looked extremely confused.
“He NEVER offers the back tables to anyone but couples. Couples that made a reservation, really!”
“Really?” Harry looked even more confused now.
“And Dumbledore!”
“Uh...yeah...Aberfor- Oh, right. Uh...Professor Dumbledore?”
“Who do you think I'm talking about?” Tom asked, a wild panic on his face that Harry had never seen. Then, without waiting for a response, “He said all those...things!”
“Is that why you blew up like that! Come on, Tom....he didn't mean it like that.” Harry looked like someone who had just realized something for a second. He was rethinking what his professor had literally said. “Oh....”
“PATIONETLY!?”
“Uh...yeah....Tom...don't yell, okay?”
“DON'T YELL?”
“Yeah...er....”
“What about that girl in Zonkos?!”
“I always kind of figured....er...she was....joking.”
Tom stood, staring in disbelief and anger at Harry for several minutes.
“She works in a joke shop.” Harry said as if it explained everything.
Tom looked harder, but this time he couldn't keep the clear reading you are so stupid sometimes off of his face.
“I don't know...I never thought about it.” Harry finally said lamely.
Tom sat back down on the couch and stared into the fire.
“Sorry.” Harry said quietly. “I'll...try to be more...er...careful.”
Tom closed his eyes with a disbelieving sharp intake and exhale of breath.
“Really. I'm really sorry Tom.”
Tom looked back at Harry. “You don't understand at all, do you?” He asked, though not necessarily to Harry. “Harry....I'm not angry with you. I'm not even angry with them. I'm angry because...because....”
Realization finally dawned in Harry's eyes and Tom couldn't bare to meet them. “Because....we aren't...lovers?” He said slowly and somewhat sckeptically. Tom closed his eyes, saying nothing. But it was fairly clear he was sure that this was the reason. He felt Harry shift on the couch, probably in nervousness.
Then a soft, beautiful feeling came over his lips and he could feel warm breath and a pair of eyelashes fluttering gently over his cheek. His eyes snapped open but the feeling was gone, and Harry was sitting very, oh so very, close. He was smiling, only slightly. Tom's heart skipped a few beats, something that had never happened. His breathing quickened and he stared at Harry with question etched in his face.
“Di...did...did you just kiss me?” He asked, knowing the answer.
“It...didn't feel like a kiss?” Harry asked uncertainly.
Tom licked his lips. “It...certainly did.” Harry smiled wider. Tom's heart did the funny fluttering thing again. “Ummm.....” How could he ask for another when Harry had so kindly given him one already? But he was saved.
“You can have as many as you want.” He promised quietly. Tom shuddered with excitement at those low spoken words. Without any more hesitation he locked lips with Harry fiercely, wrapping his hands around his back and shoulders as Harry responded with passion. They broke for air and somehow Tom's fingers had made their way threw Harry's raven hair, messing it up even more than it had already been.
Harry came in for another hard kiss and suddenly Tom was letting his friend's tongue slip in and Tom was letting Harry's hands roam anywhere they pleased and Tom was letting Harry take control. The kiss ended abruptly and Harry was blushing very red. It took Tom almost a minute to realized his eager hands were in Harry's robes and groping him threw his underpants. He blused hard as well to feel the stiffness of Harry's-
He let go, not allowing himself to think about the possibilites of what had occurred. He glanced at Harry to see glasses ascue and his robes falling off his shoulder. He fixed these in an attempt to rid himself of the embarrassing thought that it was he, Tom, who had done it in the first place.
“I'm sorry.” He whispered.
“Er...no...uh....that was....great.” Harry said awkwardly. “It's just...I'm not really...”
“Gay? Right. I know.” Tom said with finality. Suddenly hard knuckles were connecting with his shoulder. “OW! What?”
“I'm not...ready for that.” Harry said finally. “ So you'll just have to keep chasing me, won't you?” It wasn't the first time Tom had caught Harry being cocky. But it certainly was the first time he had liked it so much.
He smiled. “Fine.” He said, raising one eyebrow in his own cocksure look. “Under one condition.”
“Depends on the condition.” Harry said suspiciously.
“You allow me one more kiss bore O.W.L.s.” He said, then added “For luck.” Harry smiled back, pecked Tom on the cheek and was halfway up the stares before Tom could said “Hey! Wait!”
“Maybe in the morning, Tom.” Harry said, leaning against the frame of the stairs. “But you know...I don't mind being chased and....I still love you.”
A/N: I hope you liked it Alice! ^///^
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All The Things I Wanted To Hear