Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Serpentină	By : Iced_Sygar Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Tom Views: 20915 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: We do not OWN Harry Potter, characters, and so on. We make no profit off of it. The only thing we own is our writing and new plot changes to the story.

Chapter List
- 11
- 12
- 13
~Conscious~

A/N: Let’s just say that the title refers more to Riddle here. Their dreams are ‘meshed’ together, little does either party know. They just assume the ‘other’ in the dream is merely just a figment of their dream. But in actuality, with these two… It isn’t. Which is why it’s so interesting. I love the connection between Harry and Tom and I quite liked abusing it as well, including future chapters to come too. And, sure, you do not have control over your dreams. But would Tom honestly be the type who would dream of mushy love with Harry? I don’t think so. I mean ‘control’ as in ‘more normal’ of their dreams. Besides, their 'dreams' are less dream-like and more like a cord tying them together. It's more real, as you can tell during the series. So something like this could be done. I'm playing more off of desires. This chapter is a bit short too, I apologize. Also, this still takes place in the fourth book, the Goblet of Fire © J.K. Rowling.

And time, it did take. But it wasn't long before, no matter how long the memory tried to force himself to stay awake, that he required sleep. Again, he fell asleep, making the others stay silent this time with a few threats in his tired tone.

The fact that he was trapped even within his own dreams was the final breaking point for him and he didn't know how much longer he could allow that and stay sane. (Well, what he determines 'sane', anyways.) He was intent that, if he had to sleep, then he could at least take control of it again.

It wasn't long before he drifted off; finding himself again within that home, though from his concentration the house began to meld with where he was located now. Wallpaper was peeling, revealing old wood beneath that needed to be restored. A bit of litter was scattered on the floor here or there. Specific things from the mansion he resided in at the moment, like specific lights or key points he noticed around the house, now appeared. They were subtle, but if you paid attention you'd see them. He didn't feel as much control over his body now; however it still felt as if he was being suffocated in some invisible threads covering him. Whatever it was that was controlling him. He had obviously broken some of the strands that used to bind him, just by telling from his surroundings and the fact that more 'normal' thoughts crept into his mind.

Now for the issue... Where was Potter? Did he actually have control over this one or... Was it Harry controlling him? The dream Harry? Absurd. Either way, he'd make sure that he'd have his normal control back again and he would put the stupid little Gryffindor in his place. At his feet.

Harry had gone back to sleep rather easily; he was still pretty pleased with himself and the dream earlier. He just had to make sure to hide his extra laundry at it would be a cinch.

However Harry did not land pleasantly in the dream he went to—He crashed into some of the furniture—Which reminded him of when he first started to meet with Tom. He rubbed the back of his head, whimpering slightly and opening his eyes cautiously. It was and was not the house from before; no longer was it white and bright, but old and dark filled with lost grandeur.

"It looks like a haunted house in here..." Harry mumbled, resisting the urge to sneeze at the dust. He shivered but it wasn’t because of a draft... No... This couldn’t be one of those times... Those dreams…

Gingerly, Harry got to his feet, trying to find a way out of the hallway he had landed in. The doors were all locked except for the large double doors at the end which he tried to avoid at all costs. But it was like someone had glued the doors shut—Harry figured that he might as well get it over with and moved towards the ominous oak doors.

They screeched quite loudly as he pushed on them, but with his hip pressed hard against one it opened. All of the warning bells kept ringing in his head that he should definitely wake up NOW… But curiosity made Harry stay.

Once inside he pushed the door shut behind him, not hearing the loud "click" of it locking shut; Harry was too interested in the room. At one time, in its better years, he figured this had been the master bedroom of some Victorian-esque mansion. Whoever had lived here had left all of the furniture and rugs, and though it wasn’t rotten it had seen better days. It would have been pretty had it not been so gloomy and... Bad.

Harry actually inspected quite a few things in the room before noticing that someone else was in the room with him. He had only noticed after moving to a large vanity table and, once done inspecting the old bottles left there had looked up into the mirror... And seen Tom. It was not dream Tom though it was very much a dream, no... This was not him. The eyes were still as bloody as when... No. Don’t think about that.

He had turned around rather quickly to face the older boy, how long had he been watching Harry idiotically just pilfer through all of this? Harry gripped the vanity for balance and after many stops and starts, he managed to call his "roommate's" name. "T-Tom...?"

Voldemort stood there, admiring his surroundings for a moment and wondering how he should proceed, that is, if he still had any claim on this body in his dream. He heard the door open however, remaining still as he watched the figure enter and wander about curiously like some little frail animal that was trying to find some kind of shelter. It was obvious Harry was quite distracted, for he didn't notice Riddle standing there at all, watching him intently.

He couldn't help it as he felt a smile tug at his lips at seeing the boy look to him. Something about the way his face looked at this moment, backed against a vanity, made him genuinely smile. But, when he heard that name, the smile faltered. It was obvious Voldemort now struggled to even get simple words out, feeling a restriction on his throat that just didn't want to let the words go. But he forced them out, regardless.

"My-... Name isn't T-Tom." He got out, struggling. He obviously didn't have complete control over that odd dream Tom and he was still being tugged around for the most part. But he still fought. Oh yes did Voldemort fight. He narrowed his eyes and clenched his fist, angered that /that/ name was used, however, felt his hands unclench against his will as well.

Harry stared at the other in the room; why was he acting like he couldn’t talk? Still, being told off about the name was a bit of a sore spot for him, but he knew what Tom wanted to be called. But Harry would not—Could not call him Voldemort, at least, not right now. He watched as the other struggled more, why was Tom like this here...?

"But...I don’t want to call you the other name..." If it was really Tom, Harry probably would have kept his mouth shut… But since this was a dream he didn’t see the harm in speaking his mind. He took a few steps forward, if only to see him in better lighting, it was so dark in here. Still he kept his distance, dream or not, this Tom was not the Tom from before... Right? This was just some weird dream.

The older boy looked back to Harry, feeling unnatural thoughts and actions trying to fill him. He moved closer to the boy, not able to stop it, and wrapped his arms comfortingly around him. He resisted from trying to kiss or nuzzle him, however.

Voldemort was growing angrier by the second, though the look on his face displayed something more along the lines of calm and love. That was faltering just slightly.

"I-I... Stop." He muttered out, trying to fight this invisible force. What was it? He was so put off yet fascinated by it. What could possibly have this much control? In someone's dream nonetheless? In /HIS/ dream nonetheless! Who was doing this?! The only person he could blame, grab, or scold at the moment was Harry. And it was Harry that he focused this confused anger on, though it still came across as calm no matter how much he tried to fight it. His grip got a little tighter, though not as tight as he longed for it to be on Potter's shoulders.

"Stop controlling... How are you... Doing... This." He struggled to get out, clenching the other boy's shirt in his hands before being forced to release it.

"Stop what...?" Harry asked, now sounding worried by the other’s movements that seemed more like a puppet’s than natural

He allowed himself to be embraced, but stared up into Tom's face worried. "What's wrong?! I can’t help if you don’t tell me...!" Again if it had not been a dream, Harry would not have stayed this close to Tom.

He felt the hands on his shoulders clench and he winced, thoroughly confused by this point. It got worse when Tom had demanded he stop controlling him. "I-I’m not doing it! I don’t know how to do that...!" Harry cried. Yes, even after all of the disgust and annoyance at his younger self, here he was feeling sympathy for the devil. "I wouldn’t do that to you, Tom." The hand on his shirt was unnerving but, he couldn’t just run off and leave him like this. Harry was afraid of Tom, but he also loved him very much so he stayed.

Voldemort felt the invisible forces tighten a bit around him when the boy panicked a little, crying to him, but the boy said that he wouldn't do that to him and seemed sincere, the forces loosened considerably. He was so mystified by what was going on that he nearly tripped but he held his ground against Harry, holding him close. The Slytherin felt more control being granted back to him, though, it was obvious it wasn't absolute.

"Something... Is holding me... What magic are you doing... How... You're just..." He kept on, so confused himself and still a bit angry that he was being controlled or 'better' at something. But the unnervingly calm face would've probably worried anyone that glanced over, knowing it wasn't right. He managed to take a few steps forward, almost as if parts of his clothes were made of stone and made it hard to move, and he managed to make to the edge of the bed ahead of him. Releasing his grip from around Harry, he let the boy fall back onto the bed but he couldn't find any strength to push himself on top or anything. It was driving him mad.

He backed off some, the bad thoughts or actions that he was wanting to follow through on pushing him back like two of the same magnets, rather than opposites. He obviously struggled with some random invisible force, but looked so calm while doing so.

Voldemort's determination to beat this force increased tenfold as he really began fighting it and thrashing around only to... Suddenly stop. The dream Tom had finally won, pushing the real Tom out of view as he stood back up, straightened up, and glanced over to Potter gently. "I'm sorry." He put, looking almost embarrassed at what had just happened as he moved back over to the smaller boy. "You'll have to... Ignore that just now. I apologize." At this he got onto the bed, actually seeming to just want to cuddle with the Gryffindor.

Harry had absolutely NO idea what was going on right now, Tom had been acting like he was.... Fighting.... Himself...? What was that about being a dream? And he had seemed mad—But he looked totally calm! It creeped Harry out; he knew Tom was good at hiding his emotions but this was just bizarre.

And here he was being pushed onto the bed. "What do you mean something holdin—Ah!" he fell back and, still wary of the red eyes, scrambled to the top of the bed. Tom was struggling yet not. Harry supposed this is what inner turmoil looked like. And then, almost instantly, it was over and the eyes were dark rather than red.

"Ah, Tom! It's okay—Are you hurt?" Letting his guard down unwisely, Harry crawled to where the ‘good?’ Tom was sitting.

This Tom shook his head, smiling to Harry before leaning over to give him a gentle kiss. "Oh, no, I'm fine. Thank you for worrying about me. But, enough about me, wouldn't you rather cuddle right now?" He asked affectionately, some of the darkened objects around the room physically becoming lighter, happier. Some of the wallpaper seemed to appear over the missing bits here and there. The dream seemed to have repaired itself... But not completely. There were still dark items or rips, tears, and so on here and there that wouldn't mend. And occasionally his hand would tremble though he ignored it.

"W-Well if you’re sure you’re okay..." Harry said worried still, but the room ‘fixing’ itself was very comforting. He really would have liked to cuddle right now, but why had it seemed like there was still something off here...? Harry leaned against ‘Good’ Tom noticing the shaking hand, checking it; sure he had seen it moving on its own. "It's just... That's never happened before..." He said, viewing the still slightly torn walls and slightly stained floor. "It's odd..."

Riddle cuddled the boy and gave him lots of affectionate attention before blinking to him at how he was still confused and worried. What was there to be confused about?

"Hm? Oh. It's fine. Everything is being fixed, there's no need to worry. I'll always be here for you, Harry." He put, giving the boy a gentle kiss on the lips before smiling and just cuddling him more, wanting him to not worry about a single thing. He could practically fall asleep just like this, right here.

"I-I guess so..." He said softly, liking the openly gentle affection, it was nice to relax a little bit... Since for a moment he thought it had been the other Tom. Harry was gently settling down in the arms that held him. He was a little amused that he had two of the same person in his head; one had been based off MOST of his memories of his twelfth year of life, sweet and mild. The other was based on what he knew that same person to really be like, the one that acted like this when he felt like it. The same one that made him have nightmares for months. But, that person and the person holding him were the same person really, Harry thought, looking at the white wall paper against the faded part. Even if this one didn’t hurt him, it still didn’t change the fact that the one he wanted was completely different in every way...

This Tom leaned up on his elbow a little, peering down to the boy-who-lived with a gentle look on his face, admiring him. "You guess so? There is no guessing when it comes to whether or not I love you or want to be with you. At least, not t-t-t"

He suddenly stopped again, just kind of remaining in place or as if he was lost in thought. Had anyone been seeing him, it would've almost seemed like he was an android for a moment who suddenly glitched. His hand shook again on the other side of Harry, draped over him slightly.

The little internal struggle from earlier wasn't quite through yet.

Harry was starting to wonder if his deflowering had done more mental damage than he thought--! Slowly, he edged back a little then felt the arm behind him, trying not to blink, keeping an eye on Tom. What was going on here?! Just because he finally decided that if he was going to dream about someone it might as well be just like the real one didn’t mean he should have to lose sleep over it!

"U-Uhm, Tom...? Are you okay....?" He practically whispered after a few moments of the rather creepy silence.

That hand that had been shaking suddenly jerked at the mentioning of his name, moving immediately to Harry's throat as that Tom's eyes focused on the emerald orbs in front of him. His eyes were an odd mixture of a dark brown and red, like it couldn't decide which color it wanted to be at the moment. But the red definitely seemed to be seeping in now, especially at the word 'Tom'.

"I thought I told you that wasn't my name." His voice came through much better this time, fighting past any restraints on his own throat as his words were accompanied by a growl. "N-No one..." The words started to fight him once more, though he was winning, unlike earlier. "WILL CONTROL ME. NO ONE." He suddenly yelled, hand shaking against Harry's throat as his fingers couldn't figure out whether to clutch down hard or not.

The next moment, Tom had thrown them both off of the bed and onto the floor where he woke up the moment he hit the floor in his dream, again in a cold sweat from having tried so hard to repel the unusual forces binding him to his own body in his dreams. He panted and looked around, Nagini peacefully asleep, Peter now adverting his eyes from Tom as he turned his focus back on the smaller version of his lord who did not make a sound right now. Frustrated, the young memory stood up and left quickly from the room, angry at anything in his path. He managed to grab control at the end but... He still didn't have complete control over his body nor was able to do the things /he/ wanted to do to Potter in his dreams. It was unnerving. But he would NOT lose this battle, under any circumstance.

Whump! Harry was tangled in the sheets and hit the floor head first. "Gah!!" He said some choice words as he slipped fully onto the ground, Hedwig looked at him, slightly miffed. He waited so he could hear if the Dursley’s stirring but nothing was there.

Gingerly he touched his throat. It was fine, no cold hands were there... But that had definitely been more like Tom. Harry wasn’t quite sure he had made the right decision to dream about him rather than the nice one, but his heart raced as he thought of what had happened.

He did not like being choked; he did not like being afraid of that but... He wanted... Definitely wanted to be with the real Tom. At least when it was sleep and it wouldn’t kill him.

Harry felt sick; it was wrong to think like that. It had happened for two years and he had struggled with what he knew was wrong and made him feel sick. But it was sleep, so it wasn’t hurting anyone. If it was the real Tom he wouldn’t act this way. He would fight him; he wouldn’t be like his twelve year old self… Right?
- 11
- 12
- 13
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Serpentină