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The Fate Changed Now What?	By : Krysania Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Tom Views: 8638 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I'm not JKR , not own Harry Potter, and consequently earn no money whatsoever.

Chapter List
- 10
- 11
- 12
Tom’s pov (continuation)

The minuscule moment it took them to reach Diagon Alley was enough for Harry to move past mortification to downright rage and readiness to fight back.

“Do that again and I will kill you. No, I will crucio you.” he told him the second he escaped his arms.
The fire in his eyes and the absolute steel to his voice would have told Tom how much he meant that even without the resonation of their bond, but, as Harry wouldn’t accept an order no matter what, it was as much that he couldn’t back down to a threat.
“Really Harry, crucio?” he intentionally chose the second weakest threat using his lover’s aversion as a point.

“I thought that you were above using it?” or incapable of casting it, but with Harry you could never know.
Harry’s eyes flashed dangerously.

“Try me,” he answered not backing down an inch.

“Enough is enough; I’m not going to stop touching my friends for your fancy.”
Tom’s blood sang with this, there was nothing that made him feel more alive than their fights. Only the consciousness that they were in a semi public place (a small side-street to Diagon Alley) and their timeframe stopped him from completely letting go with his retort.

“There are touches and touches, darling, I trust your discretion.” the last past was the best peace offering he could give.
But Harry, surprising, wasn’t ready to give the matter up for all the apparent conceding.

“I meant it, Tom, don’t do that again, ever.” again an order.
Tom’s anger would have been rekindled if he couldn’t read a certain desperation inside the order. Indeed, at a closer look, the mad glittering to the other’s eyes wasn’t based at anger only, far from it. He steeped forward.
“Even in private?” he purred.
The fire in Harry’s eyes intensified even more and he still didn’t lower them, or stepped back.

“Try me.” he said again in the same steely tone but this time it was definitely a challenge.
Tom barely held a very satisfied smile, this called for vast experimentation at the first chance he got, for now. . .

“Shall we?” . . .back to business.
For which Harry seemed more than willing.

“The Cauldron?” the question sounded like a mere formality
“No,” he contradicted, “the Exandus.”
Harry’s eyebrows rose up in acute puzzlement.

“The bookstore, why? Madam Kirova thinks the world of you, no doubt, but she’s way curious too, not to mention that you can’t obliviate her.”
Tom allowed himself to smile smugly.

“Better her than the public place, don’t worry, sweetheart, old Nadia looks at me like a son and knows better than even thinking of divulging my secrets, she wants to see me again after all.”
The last part brought a small laugh from Harry’s lips.

“You and your old ladies!” although within the fond teasing there was something like censure.
Tom was momentarily mystified with the oddness and acidity of the statement. It didn’t make any sense. He knew that he could charm anyone he needed to, and old ladies weren’t an exception to the rule, but the only old Lady he was really acquainted with was Nadia, it was hardly worth the generalisation. More, he couldn’t really pin down the emotion that sat behind Harry’s ire.
“She is useful.” he allowed trying to figure out his partner’s bee.
Harry levelled him with his eyes.
“Indeed, she is your link to the inside of Knockturn without tipping your hand and I bet that you already had it in mind when you approached her for a summer job.” he shook his head almost fondly but the fierceness in his eyes wasn’t banking down.

“The fact that you are doubtless going to inherit the bookstore, probably sooner rather than later, also helps.” he added, dryly.
Tom was pleased with Harry’s accurate insight on his plans but the realisation that he feared for Nadia’s life was almost a blow. He didn’t really care about the woman but the thought of killing her just because was fairly ridiculous. There was only an explanation for such a suspicion of course: Voldemort.
The thought brought Tom a wave of distaste. Really, old ladies and toddlers, could he fell any further? Hadn’t Voldemort managed anything truly grandiose at all? And why the hell and for how long was he going to account for the other’s sins? Harry had made and kept a very sharp distinction but there were times, like now, that the old worries and fears shadowed his eyes.
He sighed inwardly and took a great care with his answer.

“Naturally, she approaches the end of her second century, that doesn’t mean I intend to hasten the process; no matter how rare some of her books. . .I need her alive, more.”
The remained tension left Harry.

“You better. . .” a severe look more for form’s sake than actual threat.

“. . .but Hermione is so going to hate you when it finally happens.” this time it was genuine humour.
Tom couldn’t help a small chuckle, he could imagine all too well.

“I know.” with that pleasant thought they were on their way.

The Exandus hadn’t changed much in the four months since he worked there; it was still a mere hole to the wall, even by Knockturn Alley’s standards, and vastly overlooked from the majority of dark wizards, but Tom know the truth, it was the finest bookstore in both alleys, (to the point of comparing favourably to some of the finest private libraries he had been able to study from) and he had ample reason to suspect that the outward appearance was only due to the proprietor’s wish to keep her rare collection to herself.
But Tom discovered that he had made a huge miscalculation by coming here, they were practically accosted the moment they touched the wards. While Old Nadia appeared the same, ancient old yet sharp eyed and cunning as ever, her demeanour was completely different and almost out of place to his beyond caring but reserved ex-boss. A wrinkled morning prophet to her work desk explained the change.
It still surprised him.
After the first enthusiastic greeting Nadia didn’t made any direct attempt at hugging him but, very unfortunately, she proved almost as fussy as mama Weasley, or him dealing with Harry. Her dark eyes took in his form searching for tracks of his injuries and she repeatedly tried to touch him, going by the excuse of straitening his clothes.
The only normal thing by the whole debate was her taking his ears off with her chatter but even then it was frantic questioning about his health not news about the latest books she acquired or planned to obtain. A pity, those would have been at least interesting.
What infuriated him most of all in the whole thing was that she kept her worry and attentions only towards him, totally ignoring and excluding Harry. Tom wasn’t angry only by the slight though, the fact that he had to suffer it alone smarted too.
Still, Tom reined his temper and impatience and endured the touching and questioning with a charming smile, only by keeping in mind said rare collection. He succeeded in convincing her to let them go without much delay and even avoided her Russian sweets or her very heavy tea. He managed those only by agreeing to come for tea in a day or so, but that was to persuade her lending him some specific tomes, so it wasn’t much of a sacrifice.
Finally Nadia accompanied them towards her fireplace and left immediately, asking nothing and making no attempt to spy in any way. That’s was one of the reasons he preferred it here and found her such a useful ally beyond her bookstore!
The moment they were alone Harry sent him a small smile and mouthed “Behave!” before disillusioning and Flooing out in an blatant sign of trust.
Tom allowed a small smile to himself before following. Really, Harry was so emotional sometimes!
Even if he had been a bit sharper than usual or even peeved about the fact that she insisted to smother him with her grandmotherly like affections but practically ignoring Harry in the process it was complete unrelated to his behaviour, only the shortens of time and the task at hand mattered.

Few moments later he was at the Ministry’s Atrium.
The timing was perfect, barely before lunch break, and the room was empty from witnesses. Something invisible bumped at him and after grabbing Harry’s hand they headed for the Department Heads’ offices. They met with no problems, the Parsel disillusionment not only held the appropriate time without draining them, but it wasn’t even setting off the alarms.
The ministry employees were starting to leave for break, few at the time, but they were careful and no one came at touching distance. After a bit more search they found their way, shoulder to shoulder, outside the Undersecretary’s office.
There was a momentary stop as they dropped the disillusionment; no need to disclose that particular advantage yet. They put up shields with their wands hidden but ready, and finally they knocked the door to make a good impression, just in case.
It was barely a moment before an inpatient voice bided them inside.

“Come in.”
Looking natural and almost nonchalant they did.

The appearance of two schoolboys (as indicated by the Hogwarts emblems on their clothes and hats) shocked the two men completely and Tom used that time to appraise them.
The man standing besides the fake window looked enough like Sam to not leave a doubt for his identify. George Diggory looked to be around forty-five to fifty and while his face held something of his son’s handsomeness it stopped there. It held very little of the warmth and humility that made the badger almost a threat to him. But even the apparent haughtiness seemed too pretentious to be a natural part of his personality. Calculating, pretentious and greedy, those seemed to be the best words defining the elder Diggory.
The older man now, sitting in from the desk, was very distinct too. There was an attempt to appear refined, but all the fine clothes or elegant uniforms of the world weren’t going to chance his plain, plebeian, features or stocky build. Luck surely must be at their side for he was able to recognise the man almost at once as their other target. Truly, the head Auror may not look very much like the little Gryffindor creep that Tom was distantly acquainted at school but the alikeness on Mad Eye Moody of the future was unmistakable.
Tom didn’t let the similarities to blind him to the other’s true character though. Where there was strength and dogmatism in the son he could see a more malleable man, although as principled, to the father. One maybe easily influenced by his passions, probably gambling. The most definite part was that Nestor Moody shared his son’s weakness in alcohol’s overindulgence.

He could certainly work with that. . .
The couple moments it took him to form his opinion was enough for the two officials to get past their shock and try to get control over the circumstances.

The Undersecretary smiled, a fairly good imitation of the genuine thing, and addressed them.

“Messrs Evans and Riddle I presume. Close the door gentlemen and come to talk.” he was obviously trying to make his voice warm too.
Something dangerous flared inside Tom and it had almost nothing to do with addressed second. He felt Harry tensing imperceptibly at his side and he had to hide a smile. His partner had sensed the trap too.
It was a barely covered move. The moment the door closed behind them the two officials started firing curses at them, an incapacitating one from Diggory and something far deadlier by Moody, but they were already moving and for all that he could admit some skill it barely touched them to bounce off on their shields.
Working with absolute synergy and without any need for confirmation he set to deal with Diggory while Harry tackled Moody. A single stunner it was all it took and then Tom broke into his mind.
The politician was a piece of work!
Tom wasn’t usually one to bother himself with morals; unless it concerned Harry’s, but this one’s were so obvious convoluted that he enjoyed himself immensely. George Diggory wasn’t really under Imperious only under very strong compulsions, two to be exact: One, to try and take them if given the chance, (that was greatly added by his sheer terror) and two and most importantly to leave every part of the impending attack in Moody’s hands.
All the other decisions regarding them and his son were due to his own initiative and aspirations. He adored his son, above everything else, but it didn’t stop him from using him to further his own ambitions. He was very aware of Sam’s inclinations and even allowed the patronage of an older and higher born student when Sam was but a second year to gain an informal alliance with his family.
His own political ascend and position was very much owned to the Smith Matriarch’s financial and political support in exchange for the engagement to her orphaned and overweight grandniece. He owned to Granger for the heads up, he could have missed it otherwise.
But it wasn’t stopping there. Even Sam’s crush towards Harry had been noted and the elder Diggory was planning to use it, as he was aware for almost every rumour and public fact about them but mostly about Harry, to get his lover tied to his own political agenda. That was even before the battle, as he was aware that Harry was a time traveller, and after that, with the full awareness of Harry’s power, to set his son as a favourite even if they ended taking the wizarding world.
Really, Tom’s plans regarding Sam weren’t just a way to further their aims but a necessity for their safety.
Having seen enough Tom retracted, making sure that the politician wasn’t aware how much he had seen but making it ardently clear how compromised he had been, even if he wasn’t under imperious, to add in his panic and soften him more towards them.
The moment he retreated completely from his mind the politician faltered. He would have fallen if Tom didn’t hold him, not that he noticed, blabbering incoherently as he was and in total confusion.

. . .Very much of a family trait. . .

Not that he cared much for the other’s hysterics; he had a much more interesting view. Still, his partner’s actions seemed to have added to that confusion as well, due to having the more difficult opponent and the fact that it took him up until now to finish with him.
There was going to be such teasing for that! He looked forward even in Harry’s rubbing that he had the easy mark. . .
A couple minutes later, after Harry took the information he needed, he finished his task in a rather spectacular and surprising way. The moment he broke from the Head-Auror’s mind, which seemed still ready to fight by the way, he incapacitated him with a heart attack curse and concluded it with another, of the stasis variety. Only with that one, unlike Latente, it was impossible for someone to take his mind, not that it was needed anymore.
Tom was thoroughly pleased and entertained, as always when his lover let out his practical and ruthless side that he loved but rarely saw, as Harry feared it and always held it under the strictest and most inflexible control. But if he was enjoying himself it was the total opposite to their only witness. . .
George Diggory, who had seemly gained a bit of composure while Harry got what he needed, panicked again with what he saw and fighting like a madman he surprised Tom enough, managing to get away from his hold. But, instead of running away towards the door or even calling for help, like a right-minded person would, he fell flat on his arse and crawled to a wall, hugging himself and muttering:

“Don’t kill me, please, please don’t kill me.”
Tom would have laughed his arse off with the pathetic display but the Undersecretary had gained enough of his wits that it would have been counterproductive. Harry sent him a derogatory glance and he just shrugged. Compared to the politician’s discovered thoughts he had got out easy. . .
Harry glared even more and seeing that his own approach wasn’t calming the terrified man down he got Sam out of his pocket and transfigured him back. Tom needed all his will power to not smirk in triumph from that, or to keep his amusement to himself.
Harry couldn’t have done worse to the elder Diggory than allowing his son to see him in such a state and the view was equally humiliating and terrifying for the son. . .
The moment Sam was back to himself he run and knelt besides his father.

“Dad?”
“Sammy?”

The Undersecretary looked like he had gotten a new lease to life and clinging to his son he started crying.
Sam started to look worried, and then he noticed his uncle and he became outright alarmed. He held his father protectively.

“What happened?”
Harry looked guiltily down.

“I’m sorry, but there was no other way to help him, if I’d given him a chance he would have killed me. Now we can find a way to protect him.”
Sam examined him, still a bit upset, but he accepted it without much protest or any distrust. Tom couldn’t help but wonder at how many things he would accept just because it was from Harry. It could be a useful experiment, but not one he itched to try.
Back to business. . .

“Indeed,” he added, “your warning couldn’t have come at a better time, both your uncle and father were heavily compromised and they own their safety to you as much to us.” a clear warming to Diggory except the outward praise.
Harry sent him a suspicious glance for the implication that the elder Diggory was under Imperious, as he should have been unconscious too in such a case, but he didn’t say a work and the aforementioned man sent him a grateful smile for saving his honour to his son.
The Undersecretary seemed to getting himself together too.

“That was your doing Sammy? How?”
Sam looked the tiniest bit uncomfortable.

“I was under Imperious too, Tom and Harry saved me.”
Tom was getting pissed, he had done the saving by himself thank you, but when Harry tried to protest he pinched him sharply to stop him. It was better to have the Undersecretary equally grateful to the both of them.
The father in question held his son even tighter and breathed a bit though his nose.

“Then I own you everything I have gentlemen, more than a life dept, more than what a mind can hold. . . Anything you will ask of me it will be too little.” another breath.

“But what about poor Nestor, did he have to end in such a condition? There is a very good chance he would end up a cardiac.”
And here was the politician! He formally recognised the dept but in the same instant he fired back and tried to guilt them about his brother’s in law state. Tom was going to enjoy working with him.
Harry wasn’t affected by the guilt trip, or if he was, (on which Tom had a very strong feeling about) he didn’t show it.

“I’m honestly sorry sir, but it’s not that bad, that much I can swear,” he said with complete steel and dignity.

“And it was the only way that I could save him and the campaign against Grindelwald.”
The older man seemed to shrink in himself considerably. He made a move to get up and Sam got gracefully on his feet and helped him.

“The campaign is dead. Nestor was our stronger fighter and I don’t even know if the other Aurors can be trusted. Dumbledore is our only chance from now on.” it wasn’t a complete act no matter how Dumbledore’s name dropping pissed him off.
“On the contrary, sir,” Tom added his part, “now it’s the perfect time to attack. Grindelwald was wounded severely. If we attack now we have all the chances at succeeding and even killing him. If Auror Moody was out and about he would have ended with a target on his back and everything destroyed. Now. . .”
It was Harry’s time to pinch his arm. The thought of using Moody as bait to Grindelwald in St Mungo may not have gone that well with his relatives.

“Now we can protect him by spreading rumours of a much worst condition, due the death of his nephew, and there nothing that says he can’t help us in the battle, if he is well enough, only against the open preparations.”
The Undersecretary stroked his chin.

“You are keeping saying we, do you really plan to help?”
Harry smiled.

“Yes sir.”
“It will be our pleasure,” Tom added, “If we’d come to an agreement of course. As for the life dept we’ll talk about it after everything else is done.” he could feel his partner’s displeasure but, as the dept was mostly his, Harry kept completely silent.
The Undersecretary wasn’t displeasured.

“Gentlemen welcome aboard.” they shook hands.
It was Sam that reminded them that there was another pressing matter.

“What about uncle Nestor, will he be alright to be left like this?” it was obvious that he wouldn’t be happy with a yes.
Tom couldn’t care less about his feelings but he needed the Undersecretary’s cooperation. Then Harry took things on himself.
“Of course not, he will go to the hospital soon enough. The spell itself is easily masked and he is at an age that heart attacks are not uncommon. He just needs some memory mortifications, so he won’t panic with this. Not a full obliviate of course, he’ll need only a code word and he will have everything back the soonest possible. I will take good care of him that I promise, you will just need to call for help the moment I free him.”
Harry looked so earnest that it was impossible for someone to notice his distaste for mind-magics, Tom could see it, to his tensed mouth, but it was only because he knew about it. Sam smiled content that it was his hero the one to deal with this, but the elder Diggory looked rather sceptical.
“It sounds a sound plan in all but what am I going to do with you, you can’t just hide and I’m not that confident in my transfiguration to turn even one of you at a small animal.”
More that he cared to not expose his son in danger than any concern about them. . . Still, Tom couldn’t help an arrogant smile.

“We have our ways to stay hidden don’t worry about it, you will see to your kinsman and we’ll wait for you here with Sam until you are free to talk.”
The Undersecretary looked so tongue tied and undecided that it took real effort on Tom’s part to not laugh.

“Ahem, are you sure that you won’t get caught?”
“Positive.” he added in all seriousness.
“It’s alright Dad, they can handle it and I trust them with my life.” the younger added his piece.
“Alight, you may proceed.” the order was given reluctantly, but exactly because it was still an order, he disillusioned himself and Sam wandlessly and almost completely silently and watched with acute sadistic glee as the Undersecretary panicked, trying to understand why the alarms weren’t going off.
“Whenever you are ready, Sir.” Harry added and his smile was only a notch kinder than Tom’s own.

Really, the fact that he was still able to deny his own cruel streak so vehemently kept baffling Tom. . .
The Undersecretary gave his consent and after Harry done his short work with the Head Auror and disappeared he set the alarm, making a beyond convicting act and moving faster than anyone, not in a broom, he had ever seen. Really, Tom was almost impressed.
The waiting was a very brief one, half hour later the Undersecretary was back.

“Now that we are free, gentlemen, how you can help on the attack, will it be your excellent fighting skills or it will be something more?” he asked very business like and doubtlessly silently ordering his son to keep quiet from now on.
Harry leaned a bit towards the bureau.

“We will tell you whatever you may need to know but will you please tell us about Mr Moody’s condition first?”
The Undersecretary’s professional visage just melted, Bloody Hufflepuff! But then again Harry was genuine too. . .

“I believe that he will be alright, Mr Evans. The doctors didn’t seem too concerned and Morin with Alastor are there too. They will be able to call for help if need be and will take him home the soonest they can.”
Harry relaxed with the news and Tom was again morbidly impressed by his authentic concern.

“Thank you, sir; I will visit him then to return the memories.”
The Undersecretary smiled gratefully and returned to business.

“So, tell me more about yourselves and your abilities.”
It was Tom’s turn to take it from there.

“I have studied excessively about wards and have some talent in breaking them. . .” he put it humbly knowing full well that the Undersecretary was going to take it in exactly the right way.

“Harry here has an uncanny knack to get away from tight positions.” and so it went.

Five hours later it was a content, but tired, Tom and Harry that accompanied unseen the Undersecretary and his son to the Floo for added secrecy. The time had been productive with not only organising the battle preparations and joining training schedule, but talking actual politics which was just as important in his book.
The only unpleasant side in this was that the Undersecretary just kept being more interested in Harry and trying, at the lightest moments to throw his son at him. It got to the point that he offered to host them for diner soon and took the liberty of inviting Hermione.
Tom wanted to crucio him for his presumptions but it was too soon for such a step and even said presumptions could turn useful for a time, so he needed something else.

For now though. . .
The Atrium was again empty and as the elder Diggory opted again for Harry’s attention Tom used the time to deal some well deserved retribution.
“Thank you again for saving my father and me, it means a lot.” Sam took yet again Tom’s hand on both of his and moved almost imperceptibly closer.

“Don’t mind my father, he means no harm and I will talk to him anyway.”
Tom smiled pleasantly.

“See that you do.” but he didn’t immediately freed those hands and it was only a couple hissed incantations that were needed.
Sam’s eyes widened in pain and horror but it was such his shock that he didn’t even consider crying out.

“You?” he uttered weakly looking to his beyond pained hands and trying to find the hidden burns.
Tom’s smile was real and deadly this time.

“Relax Diggory, its nothing that won’t pass with the healing potions that your father will, undoubtedly, ply you, just to be sure.” the smile disappeared just like that.

“It’s a little reminding of some facts. If it happens that you touch Harry again inappropriately it won’t be those feeble burns to your palms anymore but I will burn your hands off, up to the elbow.” his gaze intensified even more and Sam nodded trembling.

Tom continued in an almost affectionate tone.

“Dare to speak to him again inappropriately and I will cut off your tongue. Merely look at him inappropriately and I will burn your eyes out. Clear?”
“Crystal, my Lord.” Sam looked ready to pass out but his voice was steady.
For the first time the title was appropriately used, Tom was pleased. They said their farewells with the Undersecretary noticing nothing out of the ordinary. He was basking for a moment in well brought revenge when Harry asked casually.

“So what the hell was that?”
Tom examined him carefully. He looked suspicious but not too suspicious.

“Nothing much, he was just apologising for his father hitting on you.”
Expectantly, Harry spluttered.

“No way, tell me the truth.”
Tom just smiled; he had said a part of the truth. If Harry wanted the rest he had to work much harder than this.
“Tom, will you tell me?” a calculated glance under his fringe.
This time he blinked at Harry innocently. If his partner used such tactics he was going to do the same.

“Let’s go back to the others, golden boy.”
“Tom!” . . .utter outrage.

He watched covertly, from above his book, as Harry puttered around their given room, supposedly, preparing for the night. Not that his partner really noticed his attention, brooding and in the brink of an explosion as he was. Tom himself wasn’t much better but he had already a set plan and that helped with his composure.
The evening was an interesting one to say the last. The Potters were suitably grateful to them, to the point of Lady Potter not batting an eye at the room arraignment, and even discarding the mere formality of two beds. That had naturally taken Harry way aback, and it was just the beginning. Tom found that he could more than tolerate their hostess’s dry humour and pragmatism. It was going to be definitely easy dealing with them as Harry’s family in a semi-regular manner.
But it went so much deeper for Harry.
He had watched very carefully as the diner progressed and their hosts slowly became more natural around them, but it was a revelation to his partner, Tom didn’t know anything concrete about the elder Potter’s personality but his Lady’s seemed much compatible with his Harry and so was her sly but daring brat’s of a daughter and even Leonard was a known quantity. It was more than apparent that given enough time Harry could learn to love them very much.
Tom didn’t mind.
It was Tom that had given them to him after all, with Harry very aware of that fact as he would have never approached them by choice. That was making it tolerable, to the very least, added by the fact that they were adults and so in control of the contact. But as Harry gradually became aware that he had taken even the barest first step of familial attachment he panicked and started closing off.
. . .For the Potters’ defence rather than his own. . .
It was beyond enraging for Tom.
The whole thing brought, rather pointedly, home and to the forefront of his mind (not that he had really forgotten it in any sense) what exactly Harry had planned and how insanely suicidal he could be, merely for an unknown relative not even an actual close familiar connection. He spent the rest of diner quietly seething and that continued back to their room.
Harry could be considering himself already punished for all he know, simply because of the scare he got by seeing Diggory’s body, but Tom was far from satisfied, no matter how traumatic it had been. He wanted to grab Harry by his hair and beat the shit out of him again and again, up until he understood what the hell he had done.
Two things stopped him from acting in that way. One: he was going to need Harry at his best for the battle, not recovering from what he had inflicted in him, and Two: no matter how much he may beat him up he wasn’t sure that it was going to be enough of an input to change his mulish mind from acting again in crazy sacrificial ways. Honestly, he doubted that even rendering him incapable to get up from bed for about a month or more was even going to be enough an impact. No, he needed something subtler. . .
Finally Harry had enough with stalling and after changing for the night he approached the bed. Tom put purposefully his book down and gave him a slow deliberate once over. He looked rather fetching in his green cotton pyjamas and Tom took a mental note to change them with silk ones.
Harry’s whole attention was instantly to him and he blushed heavily with an intense mix of arousal and shame, his eyes darting from around the room to the door and back to him.

“Can I take a rain check? I’m kind of beat.”
Tom smiled wolfishly. His Harry was nervous about getting touched in his family home, how endearing! It was going to be the last of his problems. . .

“Nothing like that.” he said very lightly, “but we need to talk.”
A flash of disappointment passed from Harry’s eyes and he became instantly wary, no, more than wary, highly on alert.

“Can’t it wait until morning I’m really beat.” he evaded, then his eyes narrowed.

“And you must be too, you took the bear of the apparitions.” he didn’t need to mention again the pesky sleep deprivation matter.
Tom was indeed a bit tired, not that he would admit it on pain of death, but nowhere near tired to stop him from what he was planning.

“Sit.” an unmasked order.
Harry stiffened.

“I prefer standing.”
Tom’s smile became more dangerous. If he preferred a dressing down like an errand soldier. . .he had no idea what awaited him anyway. . .

“The fact that you even considered going against Grindelwald and the whole Nurmengard by yourself proves that you have no preservation sense whatsoever, suicidal is too mild a word.”
Surprisingly, Harry blushed with pure shame to this.

“It won’t happen again, I wasn’t in my right mind at the time.”
Tom was more than pleased with that but it was too soon to show even a hint of approval, he made his face to appear sterner.

“Maybe you are truly remorseful, but the fact remains that you were always partial to suicidal stunts not just recently. How will I trust you to not repeat something similar? You need an example.”
Harry’s face darkened considerably.

“Oh trust me, Sam’s dead body was example enough for me.” his tone was dry but heartfelt.
“Diggory got home to his father alive and well.” Tom hissed, for once without the slightest smudge of pretence in his words or voice.
Harry stiffened as in from a blow.

“So, what do you consider an appropriate example?” his voice and stance a pure challenge.
Tom smiled chillingly.

“I considered killing a random family every time you do something crazy, it would have cost me nothing as you wouldn’t know them to care or even find out about it.” he teased with relish knowing that Harry was going to be far more serious with his welfare, even knowing he was joking, for just in case.

“But it wouldn’t hurt you if you didn’t know so it’s all but useless.”
Harry glared daggers.

“So what did you do, or planning doing?” it was an order.
Tom smiled, almost coyly, and steepled his hands.

“I thought about activating your mark and having you come again and again until the pleasure became pain. . . But you would enjoy that, at least the start. Beating the shit out of you is also out, you’ll need to be in top form for the battle. . .” he stopped.
Harry looked like he was considering murdering him.

“What are you planning to do?” he insinuated every word.
Tom regarded him even chillier than before.

“As beating you is out I’m thinking more about trashing your pretty backside. Maybe, if you couldn’t sit for a couple days, that will stop you for taking idiotic risks again.” he patted his lap.
Harry was literacy seething with this.

“Are you out of your fucking mind? I’m not a little kid for you to spank me. Its beyond humiliating, even as idea.” he crossed his arms beyond insulted.
Tom’s smile became a mix of hot and cold. His intentions were definitely inappropriate for a little kid.

“Spanking is a very mild word to what I’m considering doing you, darling. As for the humiliation factor, that’s precisely the whole point and more than just desserts as it’s exactly your punishing method by choice.” he pointed out, hoping to mask his even darker intentions.

“Now, come here.”
Harry shifted into a fighting stance.

“You want to beat me came and do it, but I’m not going to just accept it and you can’t force me.”
Tom’s eyes flashed.

“Your mark is right above your spinal cord, funny thing that, so I can and I will. Your only decision regarding it is if you will take it as a small kid or a man.”
Harry froze and after sending him another murdering glare he took decisively the final steps parting them.

“Fine.”
Tom sent his glasses to the nightstand and helped him to lie on his thighs, all the while hiding his devious smile. Really Harry was for the surprise of his life. . .
The first and last clue he allowed his lover about his true intentions was the slow sensual way he lowered his pants and underwear. Harry stiffened, finally understanding where this was really heading and Tom had to hold him down with one hand to stay in his place.
But the first slap left him quite accepting.

All because Tom, having no reason to hold back, struck him with his whole strength.

Really pain, and a lot of it, was very much part of getting even to the emotional pain that Harry had caused him.
However, as he continued, still showing no hint of mercy and tanning evenly Harry’s rather delectable hide, his lover realised that, no matter how much strength Tom was putting into this, it wasn’t exceeding his pain threshold and he started relaxing, letting go.
That was exactly what Tom was waiting for and continued with renewed vigour. Only this time nature was working with him and, as the endorphins started rushing in, Harry became more and more aroused with this.
It was then that humiliation truly struck Harry and he panicked, starting to fight, Tom had to keep more than half his concentration to keep his lover right in place. That resistance charged Tom’s, so far manageable, arousal to something beyond fierce and become more than a punishment to him, the most erotic experience of his life.
But he kept more than enough of his wits about him waiting for the ‘No’. It was going to be more than painful at his condition but having already made his point he could completely disarm Harry by respecting his wishes.
Strangely enough, for all that Harry continued fighting like an eel the forbidding word didn’t come past his lips, not even inside the contains of his mind with its crumbled defences, really, it didn’t made the smallest appearance! Instead, now his trashing had the total opposite motivation rising up to meet his hand and crashing right down, erection to erection.
Tom lost himself completely with this, with Harry. It wasn’t blood running to his veins anymore but warm honey and wine, intoxicating him completely. He didn’t even know where he was hitting any longer and he barely managed the concentration for banishing their clothes.
But even as their pleasure started cresting, as nude flesh met nude flesh, and the pressure inside his body coiled and coiled he realised that he needed something more. . . He needed to see Harry’s face, the ecstasy, his eyes blown with pain and pleasure. . . .
With a tug he had his love right to his arms, one final look and it was almost over. Harry crashed his burning lips beyond filthily to his and hid his face to his neck, panting.
Tom barely found the stamina to whisper in his ear.

“Someday . . . soon. . . I’m going to warm you up. . . again. . . just like that. . . and then take you. . . again. . . and again. . . and again.” he panted.
That was the final trigger that Harry needed, he lost it with just that, taking Tom with him.

They rested together for a long while, but as Tom was starting to actually doze Harry slipped from his arms and left the bed, bringing him back to the present. A few moments later he heard water. He considered about summoning his wand and cleaning up the mess but he really was beyond exhausted and felt so lazy. . . he closed his eyes for a moment.
The next thing he was aware about was a small drop in temperature and then a soft sound. His hand shot up, as by itself, caching the damp towel in the air, barely avoiding it crashing to his face.

Ha, take that Harry! His partner wasn’t the only one with excellent reflexes.
Tom didn’t offer any thanks, but as he could sense that something was wrong he cleaned himself deftly, wondering what on earth Harry was thinking with a move such as this. It was certainly a challenge, demanding an immediate response, which he carefully denied, thinking furiously at how to optimally answer this.
While there was something playful to this daring, the intention was clearly to anger him. Now what for? Certainly not to get him right to round two, as his lover was never going to openly admit such a desire. It was way early for something into those lines. . .
The logical possibility of winding him up for a fight seemed far more credible but the fact that he couldn’t sense any of Harry’s thoughts or emotions made this extremely worrisome, he usually burned hot not cold.

Having made the initial assessment he raised his eyes to meet Harry’s.
Cold, hard, unforgiving, fury met his-own stare. There was also deep hurt and humiliation, but that was under layers and layers of ice.

“That was intentional.” it wasn’t really a question.
Harry was leaning against the bathroom’s door with crossed arms and a small towel, but he could have been to Antarctica with such mental distance between them. He looked well beyond simply affronted, white as sheet with rage, and Tom could almost physically feel him stiffening and becoming even more rigid under his gaze.
For the first time this night Tom wondered if he had gotten it too far.

He wanted Harry to pay but not hurt him to that extent and he hardly expected such an extreme reaction. Thus he decided to play openly and so to force everything that Harry felt out in the open.
“Yes.” it wasn’t necessarily to voice it but it was a sure way to make his partner react.
It didn’t work. Harry’s eyes flashed lethally but other than that he didn’t react in any other way, his shields remaining impenetrable. Apparently he was far more hurt than angry.
“Then I hope that you enjoyed it,” his voice was completely frosty.

“. . .because never again.” his voice wavered to the slightest bit in the end but it held true conviction.
Tom was shocked with the vehemence of the reaction. He was more than aware of the deep denial that Harry held about his own needs but such a total aversion to one’s self was new and he had honestly started to worry that this was a new mental breakdown.
“You enjoyed it too.” he said softly, trying to figure out the extent to the damage.
Harry fixed him with his eyes, finally starting to look more alive.

“I did. But you used it to prove a point.”
Tom’s anger flared too, even more so because he had been worried.

That was about it!

“And this is new? Anything can and will be used between us, darling. You, yourself, used it today, or have you forgotten it?” he asked sarcastically and rose from the bed, summoning a dressing robe.
That got the whole room crackling with magic and the first legitimate crack on Harry’s shield. Tom couldn’t help a shiver from the lava he could sense beneath the ice but he forced the reaction down.

If Harry planned to leave him he hardly deserved such a boon.
“So you decided to humiliate me by showing me my place once and for all, that’s it?” Harry’s voice finally betrayed all his rage, all the anguish. The ice became shards cutting deeply, on both edges.
But Tom, although deeply affected by his beloved pain, was way puzzled with this.

“Harry, I hardly intended to humiliate you that far. So you enjoy a bit of pain, big deal.” he tried again.
Harry’s gaze never looked more like the killing curse as it did at that moment.

“Don’t play with me, Tom,” he countered sharply, “you wanted to prove to me that you could have me any time, any way, you wanted to but my own desires to the matter were irrelevant.”
An immeasurable wave of sickness hit Tom with this. Did he really? When it passed it was replaced with molten fury. He didn’t even know how he ended looming above Harry, cornering him to the door, but the fact that he didn’t shaken him until his teeth were clattering was only due to his inhuman control.

“I didn’t force you,” he gritted out, “you could have told me no any time, but you didn’t even thought about it. You wanted it.” it wasn’t perfect though.
Harry raised his face towards him; his eyes seemed glassy, like if he was holding back tears.

“That’s exactly the problem, Tom, I wanted it. You made it adamantly clear today that you wouldn’t tolerate any overtures by me and yet the moment you did I accepted it eagerly, no mater what you wanted to give me. . .” his cheeks were stained red and he looked miserable and utterly humiliated.
Harry really believed that he had no power over him in this? Utterly preposterous! He wouldn’t have spent half the day freaking out about it in such a case. . . Even had he wanted to curb his partner’s intoxicating influence he wouldn’t have gone with such a route, Harry’s first instinct was always to leave at a perceived rejection and this counted double as such a thing.
Tom wanted to laugh hysterically or hit him. Had he denied him anything so far? There was the usual dose of negotiation of course, but his partner had gotten his way a great deal too. . . He met Harry’s eyes, sharing that particular thought.
Still, at a closer look, it was very much apparent why Harry had latched instantly to such an idea. The line parting it from his true intentions was an absurdly thin one. Tom didn’t feel much of remorse for creating that impression in the first place but he needed to fix it, fast, and he had a feeling that the long explanation wasn’t going to cut it.
“Had I allowed myself to give in this morning it would have assuredly ended with me buried inside you.” he told Harry bluntly.

“Sorry, love, I prefer to keep you, not just have you a couple times and then lose you at the next crisis.”
Harry choked into thin air and Tom was gratified that while he always ended spilling the beans, and far more inelegant that he would have preferred, the reaction was pleasing. He could live with that!
“You want to?” Harry was all wide eyes and flaming cheeks, the anger and ice a thing of the past. . .
Tom dropped momentarily all his masks.

“Yes.”
Harry’s eyes darkened just as much with desire but his parted, panting, lips firmed again after a second.

“You may want whatever but if you think that things will go only the way you desire you can forget it.”
Tom smiled slyly. The danger was over.

“I wouldn’t dream it! And I have no intention at all to deny you your rights; you will just have to win them.”
Harry’s brows furrowed.

“Win it, as in how? You mean? . . .Oh. . .” he blushed again as he finally got it.
Tom had to hide his smile. Their duels were going to get legendary!

“How eloquent!” he teased.
But Harry wasn’t exactly ready for teasing, yet.

“Why did you start the whole thing in the first place?”
Like he could have forgotten!

Tom was ready to come clean though and he opened his cards completely.
“I wanted to punish you in a way that you wouldn’t have been able to forget. You always hide from yourself, from your very nature, as you are uncomfortable with it. But why should I permit you that comfort when you always drive me to a wall with your suicide runs?” a deep trembling breath to keep his voice from rising.
“I wanted to rip it from you, to leave you no choice but to face your own nature and desires, everything that you can’t, or deny, to handle. If I have to suffer the consequences of such masochism everyday so must you . . . You will never be able to hide again.” he still hated how emotional he was sounding.
Harry. . . Harry didn’t explode, demanding to just take it or leave . . . neither dolefully pointing that he didn’t have to, as he was expecting . . . he looked at Tom for a very long time.

“It was still a shity thing to do.” he finally told him quietly.
Tom wasn’t going to apologise.

“What you planned was just as shity if not worse.”
Harry met his eyes but nodded slowly, conceding the point.

“True, but I’m not exactly like that.”
Denial and persistence thy name is Harry!
Tom couldn’t help a small sinker.

“Want another demonstration, sweetheart?”
“Noo. . .not really.” the denial came immediately, if a bit breathless, even managing to finish nonchalantly to an extent, but by the way this was going he could soon toast bread on those cheeks. . .

Still, Harry faced him on, bravely, uncomfortable or not.

“I liked it, I won’t deny that. . .”
Tom had to nibble on his ear for that.

“Good, for I intend to satisfy your every need or desire to the full, no matter how small or hidden is it.” the softest of whispers.

“But never something that you don’t want, or can’t handle, that I promise.” he offered and had to hide his smile at Harry’s hair when his lover’s hand grabbed spasmodically at the lapel of his robe.
He may openly admit his weakness that didn’t mean he wouldn’t take the upper hand given a chance.
Still he had forgotten Harry’s will; his partner shoved him softly away.

“. . .But it’s not the only kind of desires I have.”
Tom had to smirk at that.

“I’ve already told you that you can have your way with me, anytime, and I bear the marks to prove it. . .” his body was literally swamped with them, especially his neck.
Harry didn’t back down.

“I mean other than rough stuff.”
Tom didn’t need more clarification and he considered it. He had no problem with slow but he wasn’t that sure about sweet. Still, he knew Harry; his lover had a huge well of pent-up tenderness inside him and affection that was never allowed freedom due to his abysmal relatives. Harry needed that. He wasn’t going to deny him and risk that someday he would seek it out from someone else . . . a sweet teacher, or secretary, even the accursed Diggory.
“We can try.” he offered.

“Everything, barring full intercourse, is on the table.”
Harry was stunned.

“Tom. . .” he started very hesitantly.
But he had already made his mind.

“I already promised everything,” he cut him steely,

“. . . and I’m yours too. . . So . . . if you want me?” he better get it over with and it honestly wasn’t a completely dreaded prospect.
Harry shook his head.

“Not tonight.”
Tom glared. If he was treating him with kid’s gloves . . . but no, he knew that mischievous expression. . .
. . . Harry was planning something.
“My choice: a whole night at my terms and the date of my choosing.”
Tom tried to not glare. This was way too far, but he couldn’t back down now.

“Acceptable.”
Harry blinked at his response and then smiled, kind of relieved, but there was still some strain. So he really didn’t expect him to agree.

“You bloody martyr!”
Harry instantly took offence.

“Hey, cut it with that! Consent is a two way street, you were and still are somewhat conflicted about it. Was I illogical for wanting to offer the same courtesy?”
Tom regarded him frostily.

“I’m perfectly capable of looking for myself, thank you. Should I find anything utterly offensive you will definitely know.”
Harry smiled, somewhat ruefully.

“I would prefer knowing a bit earlier than that if you don’t mind.”
Tom nodded in pact, his lips curling up in dark humour.

“At least you finally admit that it was consensual.”
But Harry wasn’t needled; in fact his eyes were disturbingly soft and unguarded.

“I never said it wasn’t, I know how much that topic matters to you,” a breath,

“You were beyond mad by the mere idea, you were hurt and I could feel it. I’m so, so, sorry.”
Tom didn’t like this topic one bit, he needed to change it, fast . . .

“Harry, drop it . . . you make me sound like I have morals when we both know that I don’t.” he ordered half humorously to deflect.
Harry looked very uncomfortable, his eyes held an apology, but he still pressured.

“To this you have. If you didn’t, you would have gotten me just after Amelia. . .” he laughed in a very self derisory way.

“I was such an emotional mess that had you made a pass at me then I would have accepted if only for one of us to be happy.” he confessed matter of factly.
Tom was beyond sick with the specific emotional talk, Harry may think that his own vulnerability would equal things but at this point it just made him sicker.

“Really, that must have been quite the mess! You were so averse to the idea that it crossed my mind that you had been exploited.” he hit right back in the worse way he could think.
It worked for a moment. Harry looked ready to pass out from horror.

“You thought what? From whom?” the littlest probing to their link was enough to give him the answer and he recoiled as if struck.

“Vernon . . .? Are you nuts?” the shock had started to really set. Harry looked like he was trembling from internal cold and called his own robe to him, tying it tightly to his body.
Tom told himself that he didn’t feel bad about it, it was well deserved, and that he definitely wasn’t going to start coddling Harry by hugging him now. Still . . .

“Relax, it was only a thought. Do you really believe that I would have left him alive in such a case? Unless you tell me otherwise, that’s it.” he added calmly.
He really didn’t like the extent of that reaction. But he still had the time spell and he could deal with the vile cockroach with ease. The fact that it was going to be another version of Vernon Dursley from the one that hurt his Harry really didn’t mattered to Tom one bit.
Harry seemed to come down from his panic.

“Salazar! Did you have to put such a picture to my mind? If I had lived for a thousand years or more it would still be something I could do without.”
Tom didn’t say a single word he just continued looking at him and Harry was forced to continue.
“He never looked at me in that way, never mind touching me, even if he had that kind of inclinations. I saw no hint of it as he was too repulsed and fearful by my magic.”
Tom wasn’t callow enough to point out how much it lacked as a defence, or even how close it was to an accusation that Harry was never, ever, going to utter against his family. He put a mental note to kill the piece of lard anyway. If Harry found it later and got pissy he would use it but not before.
But that moment of distraction was enough for Harry to get his bearings and brains back.

“Who hurt you, Tom?” he asked softly.
Tom’s world stopped for a moment but due to a lifetime of masks he managed to hide it.

“Excuse me, where on earth you come up with that? No one hurt me like that.” the haughty indignation was just perfect.
Unfortunately his acting skills got to a waste towards Harry.

“Tom please; I know that this it’s not just about Merope.” his voice was even softer but it held a ring of steel.

“No man without actual familiarity to sexual abuse would have come to such a conclusion at once, not even one paranoid as you. So please tell me.” the green flames were directing all their power to him.
The memories were poison on Tom’s mind and lips but he suppressed his anger and hate to them due to long experience. The wrenched orphanage was in the past anyway, destroyed to its foundations by a German bomb, the perpetrators already dust and bones. He refused to leash out to Harry for this, not when he had enough of his facilities to know that he had brought it to himself by his probing.
This wasn’t something he wanted Harry to know ever but he could bear it due to the fact that his partner’s eyes held no pity only indignation on his behalf and rising fury. Still he would rather share the barest minimum.
“I wasn’t sexually abused.” he started firmly,

“if that was the case the ritual would have been unsuitable for our needs.” adding the only thing that mattered at present.

“However, there were two men that tried and failed and they are dead and buried for years now.” there, these must satisfy even Harry.
It didn’t come even close. His sparse declaration incensed Harry on his behalf to a frightening point, one far exceeding his efforts in self defence. The Potter wards tightened around them in response but it wasn’t cloying far from it.
“I couldn’t care less about the ritual right now. You spoke about years for Salazar’s sake!” Harry was trembling so hard he looked like he could break and was holding on his hands for dear life.
“But I do, thank you very much.” Tom found himself calming while Harry ragged and he didn’t even have to expel his feelings. It wasn’t degrading to have Harry exploding on his behalf but oddly freeing and intriguing. The only worry now was if the explosion exceeded Harry’s healthy point but even at such a case he believed that he could contain it.

“The only thing that matters to me is us. Those worms were killed a long time ago.”
“Tell me what happened and how you killed them.” it was both an order and plea.
Tom was getting drunk from the concern and fury. More, was that a touch of blood thirst? Even if it was exactly that, it was so saturated in protectiveness that he never doubted for a moment that it truly belonged to his Harry.
He licked his lips and found himself complying to the full.

“Mrs Cole didn’t take my fighting back that well and as the unexplained things pilled up she called a priest to exorcise me. That in itself was ghastly enough but when he managed to tie me down he decided that I was the devil himself and was urging him to sin.”
“How old were you?” the barest whisper. Harry was pale as death and holding on his hands to the point of forming bruises but Tom hardly noticed, he was too absorbed to his recollection.
“Nine. . .” another breath and he continued, unable to stop now, sharing the memory itself.

“I fought with everything I had, things I hadn’t even considered then, but when Mrs Cole finally came to investigate, when she couldn’t hear the screams anymore, she found him dead above my body. Thankfully it was such his condition and mine that she couldn’t doubt what she saw and he was old enough that it looked like his heart had given out. I wasn’t punished and she never brought the matter up again, to me at least.”
What Tom had considered as bloodlust before was nothing compared to now. Harry’s whole body was thrumming with that, his eyes were dry but glittered like the fires of hell were burning inside them.

“He didn’t suffered enough.” a simple hiss that held all the hate of the world but none of Harry’s expected pity. He couldn’t help a shiver.
A mirthless smile graced Tom’s lips.

“I can assure you that he suffered. I didn’t know it then, but I believe that it was an accidental and crude form of the Cruciatus, that, and it took him a very long time to die. So you see it wasn’t on your behalf but at mine that I shed my first blood.” he added the last part almost teasingly but it held a very strong purpose. It comforted and excited him to see Harry so vengeful on his behalf but he preferred him with his sanity intact.
“Good!” Harry’s eyes held that vengeful look for a moment more but a strange remembrance of fire chased it away. He became thoughtful instead.

“You know, Tom, it didn’t look exactly like Cruciatus to me, more like the protections of my mum’s, minus the fire.”
Tom didn’t know what to say. It was utterly ridiculous as a thought, no matter that Harry truly believed it, but he found himself unable to scoff at it and instead ended, vastly unusually, to be kissing Harry’s temple.
They stayed like this for a long moment, but when Harry spoke again it was to appease him, having caught the additional burning humiliation to the whole matter.

“I don’t think that Dumbledore knows of this. He showed me the memory, if you remember, and it was uncontaminated. There was no Legilimency towards Mrs Cole and she kept that part to herself.”
A small weight left Tom’s shoulders; he didn’t believe that Dumbledore was any less of a faker than before but nonetheless it was a relief that he didn’t know that specific indignity.

“Good. Now let’s get to rest a bit, you were tired.” the tension was leaving him and he remembered his weariness.
Harry stayed there though.

“And the other man, you never told me about him?”
Tom swore inside but as he had started it he was going to finish it.

“The other was a driver that got us to the countryside in the summers. He had very long hands and the summer before I got my letter he decided to hound me. A couple rapid dogs did a very sort work of him.” now that he had told everything he fount it rather cleansing and he knew that Harry wasn’t going to breathe a word to anyone.
Harry took the second story a bit calmer but there were still the feelings of justice, revenge and regret that he couldn’t dice out his own payment.

“It was a bit extreme without a direct attack involved, but I can’t say it wasn’t just desserts.” that was what made Harry so dangerous, he may abhor cruelty with a passion but there was nothing he would stop at if what he loved was threatened.
Now that the risk of a psychotic break was over Tom found himself enjoying the reactions more. The most brilliant part: the certain knowledge that even if they weren’t lovers Harry’s emotions to the matter would have been exactly the same, with this going as far as their year to the future, or even the middle of their first year. Nothing could compare to that!
He kissed Harry on his hair this time.

“Let’s go to sleep, oh Justice Lord, you can barely stand.” he tugged him towards their bed.
Alright,” Harry was so knackered there was no resistance, not even a quipping. . . No wrong on that. . .

“If only consent mattered to you more than on matters of sexual nature.”
Tom stopped as in struck; he dragged Harry the last steps to their bed forcing him to sit on its edge.

“What the hell was that?” all traces of drowsiness were gone.
Harry’s own got clear too within a moment.

“I didn’t mean it exactly the way it sounded but it’s not like you really care about my opinion. We are here when you know that I strongly object and its more than twelve hours since you promised to explain your plans.”
Tom pinched his nose, harshly. He should have known!

“I asked you if you would prefer the Malfoys, it wasn’t completely rhetoric you know.”
Harry sighed looking down.

“I know, but you also knew my feelings on the matter and processed anyway. It’s even more difficult now that I met them. Danger follows me, what if Dorea, Leonard, or even Annette, gets hurt because of me? I don’t know if I could handle it.”
Tom titled his head half fondly; tiredness turned Harry towards the dramatic.

“Even if that’s the case, they are already targets and we are going to protect them from here. Give it a day or so and I believe that you will be relieved.” or so he thought but Harry seemed to accept it for now.

“Do you still want to hear my plans?” a bit too blatant a manipulation but, as Harry himself would have put it, he needed his beauty sleep.
“Yes, now please.” Harry sat up better and set sharp eyes at him.
It was Tom’s turn to feel like an errant soldier.

“We couldn’t stay at the castle because, one, I planned for us to raid Borgin for the rare books he has. We’ll need that edge against Grindelwald.”
“I thought you intended to load us from Nadia?” Harry asked innocently enough.
Tom wasn’t fooled from that innocent look.

“There are some things that even Nadia won’t touch; I prefer to be fully prepared.” Harry rolled his eyes.

“What? Do you prefer ignorance?” he goaded a bit.
Harry sent him a half amused glare, he was on him.

“I will check them, but I won’t cast unless it’s absolutely necessary and so will you. Necromancy it’s so not my thing.”
Tom conceded to both points, it was enough.

“Anyway, we re going to be too busy for this now, I’m going to put a follower or followers to buy what they can.”
Harry nodded his acceptance but then frowned.

“If by a single follower you mean Brax, won’t it be too much?”
Tom wasn’t going to step back from this.

“He made his bed, time to lie there.”
The memory of the second choice passed between them.

“Alright, but I wasn’t considering Mulciber or the others from school. Alphard and Zev spied on us too.” he put it slyly.
Tom saw the play but he wanted to reward that king of thinking.

“Acceptable, but the main burden will be on Abraxas’ shoulders.”
Harry knew not to smile on his victory.

“Alright, you said there was and another reason to avoid the school?”
“Indeed!” a huge smile had started forming on Tom’s lips; it was only slightly manic though.

“We need a way to air the dirt on Dumbledore and maybe gain some leverage on Grindelwald, if we won’t kill him in the battle. What a better way to go for it than bringing Bathilda Bagshot to the school? So, interested for an exorcism of our own?”
Harry’s smile was as huge as his own.

“Count me in!” then his lips formed a pout.

“That was all?”
Tom was almost affronted.

“Of course not,” he sat besides Harry, hugging him by the shoulders, and whispered to his ear.

“There is always more.”
- 10
- 11
- 12
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The Fate Changed Now What?