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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
- 13
- 14
- 15
Tom’s pov

‘Carry on, but you better hurry.’ Tom allowed, more than a little peeved, although he didn’t show it. He smiled at Nadia, expertly hiding his displeasure, and ate another small piece of delicious Pithier Moloko whilst pretending to hear her complains; it looked like he was going to be here for a little while yet. . .
He could have given an excuse and leave but he had no intention to lose face to his followers by taking back his orders and even less to leave Harry totally unsupervised. The fact that he didn’t intend to burden himself with all those books was also a factor. . .
It hadn’t been overly taxing to sweet-talk her into loading him about a third of the bookstore but it took time and he was frankly bored out of his mind. The only thing making it tolerable was the titbits of information and some of the sweets. Speaking of information, he had better pay a tiny bit of attention, something in Nadia’s ramblings sounded marginally noteworthy.
“You were concerned regarding a werewolf threat?” he prompted.

Nadia smiled, looking pleased by his apparent care.

“You are very kind to be worried about me, Tom, but there is no threat. I’m perfectly capable of dealing with the old toothless beast. Truthfully, he hadn’t made any attempt to hurt me, just to intimidate me into giving him money.”
Tom made himself to appear earnest, not only decisive.

“Allow me to disagree, Madam Kirova, of course there is a reason to be concerned. You are rattled by this; else you wouldn’t have spoken about it. Please, tell me everything and let me deal with this, or at least help, alright?” he honestly couldn’t care less what the werewolf wanted, or even if he killed her, but he couldn’t afford to.
. . .Harry’s nagging aside she had treated him right and was under his protection, or on the mind of the more naive Knockturn denizens he was under hers. His standing among them could end irrevocably damaged if didn’t protect her, or at the very least revenge her, and she was much more useful alive. . .
He briefly considered the practical matters.

. . .Werewolves were notoriously resilient against spellwork, the more powerful werewolf the stronger, so an open attack was going to be a waste. An ambush then. . . Harry distracting him, if he wasn’t in an ethics crisis, or him working alone, he would need to create a spell covering any and all output perceived by the senses. . . then an injection with melted silver or even better quicksilver. . .
“I shouldn’t, you are still a student, Tom.” Nadia hedged a bit more and he returned his full concentration to the link, or more precisely to it’s almost absence. . .
Tom had been expecting some kind of defiance from his partner so he wasn’t really surprised by this. But the complete shielding he found was a very different matter, worrisome. Fuming inwardly he stealthily tried to gain again entrance to the other’s mind, but it was still to no avail to his utter frustration. Harry was up to something. . .
Even when Nadia started giving actual information he still kept more than half of his attention monitoring the link, which proved to be a very prudent thing else he would have been caught totally unaware by the sudden onslaught.
Still, the overwhelming magical draining came truly out of nowhere. Tom didn’t have time to fully recognise it, never mind analysing it, or his response. He only felt the spark that was Harry and his connection to him fading to nothing and he sent everything he could to his partner, instead of closing the link off to avoid the same fate.
Everything was over in a moment; Tom sensed that he had sent just a tiny fraction of what Harry had given but it was still devastating in its suddenness. He found himself momentarily slouching in his armchair (unforgivable in public) and the only thing keeping him from panic was that he could sense their link pulsing again with life, (although infuriatingly still closed)

He didn’t know what was really going on, except that it was Harry’s fault, and that he was going to strangle him with his bare hands. . .
He muttered a half-arsed excuse and made to get up but Nadia stopped him. She didn’t seem to have noticed his weak moment; on the contrary she seemed very rattled herself.

“I know that you are a busy young man, Tom, but I need to talk to you about an important matter, far more important than my little problem.” she looked both embarrassed and totally serious.
Tom sighed inwardly while he smiled.

“I would gladly hear any and all your concerns, Madam Kirova.”

It looked like Harry’s punishment had got postponed by a few minutes. . .
Nadia didn’t look calmer by his response; on the contrary her hands seemed to lightly tremble as she brought her teacup to her lips, but she didn’t hesitate, a deep breath and she brought everything to the open.
“I was so proud of you, Tom, when you started courting Hermione, such an intelligent, ambitious, girl, but I couldn’t help but notice yesterday that your close friendship with Mr Evans has evolved in something much deeper and complicated.” she said almost feverishly fast and looked down.

“I know that it’s frankly intruding and normally I would just kept my counsel but I can’t.” she dared to continue but her voice sounded almost openly pleading.

“You aren’t an adolescent any more, but a young man on the start of his road. Do you really think that it’s worth it to discard all your dreams and ambitions just for a romance?” she managed to gaze directly to his eyes and flinched by their look, almost gasping.
But Tom had long stopped hearing her. He was only aware of the buzz in his ears and the red haze in from of his eyes. He was already beyond mad with Harry and Nadia’s idiotic presumption, that she could tell him on how to live his life, just added plenty of oil to his fire. The only reasons he hadn’t stricken her down, like a bothersome fly, were firstly surprise and secondary his control.
He knew better than letting loose right now, of course. No matter how much he wanted to punish her for her nosiness, well mostly Harry, (and to give him something to vent before facing him,) there was ample possibility that someone in the Ministry had heard that he was coming here, or that it got caught in some recording devise, and even the fact that he had worked here was a matter of public record.
Not that she wasn’t going to pay dearly. . .even with blood. . .but he needed to be organized about it. He wondered how easy it could be to imitate werewolf wounds even to the Aurors or Mediwizards. . . Maybe he should try to be lazy and merciful for once, to save her from the werewolf just a bit too late. . . As Harry hinted, only yesterday, it was way beneath him to deal with her, he doubted that she was going to survive for long the bite’s consequences in her age anyway. . .
One thing certain if Harry’s explanations didn’t satisfy him he was going to end at clean up duty. Maybe the second dose, of the ‘alive’ kind, was finally going to made him get it. . .
For now he needed to deal verbally with Nadia, it was going to be too suspicious to do otherwise; she was already almost passed out from frigid due to his red eyes. . .
“I was wondering, Madam Kirova,” he started, voice formal and deadly soft, like a razor edged blade;

“what gives you the authority to interfere in my life? I’m nothing but an ex-employee after all. . .”
Those words seemed to upset her even more than the visible sight of his powerful rage, she looked ready to cry.

“I know that I don’t have any formal rights but you also know that I consider you like a grandson.”
Tom’s lips tightened, his red eyes narrowed to slits. He was very aware that she was way softer to him than a normal employer but to bring the matter up now it sounded way too cheap.
“Really, then how come you never thought to go formal about it? A respected pureblood name like Kirov would have gone a long way to aid my ambitions which you were so concerned about.” he twisted sharply the knife.
Nadia was beyond shocked.

“It never crossed my mind that you could want it, you are already an adult and so independent. . . it’s not like there is much respect for us emigrants’ here.” she smiled ruefully.
Tom’s smile was cold like a blizzard.

“My friend’s Antonin family seems rather fine but it’s currently of no consequence.” he got up.

“I know that things are different now but allow me to keep the books, for few days at least, they are much needed.” somewhere it could pass for courtesy but it was truly an order.
Nadia took it as neither.

“Oh please! Like I would have asked you to give them up with what’s ahead you?” suddenly she looked shy.

“I’m sorry for upsetting you but if you really think that my name could help you out I would gladly give it to you.” seeing no reaction from him she twisted her hands.

“You really don’t have to leave, you know.”
Tom’s lips twitched in amusement but it could pass for sadness.

“I’m not sure it’s such a good idea Madam, and unfortunately must decline your kind offer. I’m, as you pointed out, very independent and not going to give it up even for family.” he smiled honestly.

“Truthfully I already have all the family I will ever need.” it was true even if he currently wanted to wring said family’s neck.
Nadia took it like a blow.

“You really think that I could write you off because you like boys?” Tom didn’t even need to answer. It upset her even more and she looked ready for a heart attack.

“Sit down for God’s sake; I’m not a prudish Englishwoman to do so. Back home, at the Tsar’s court, it hardly mattered and definitely didn’t impede careers. . . I just wish you were there, you could have got so high. . .” she sighed forlornly, probably for the both of them.
Circumstances permitting even high enough. . .
Tom decided to humour her and relaxed in his armchair. . . he had started enjoying her rand.

“Don’t worry, I can be discreet and so does Harry.” he allowed a smile, there was no reason they shouldn’t end this talk in amicable terms.
Nadia snorted her opinion to this.

“For you I don’t doubt. . . for Harry. . .” her silence filled the blanks.
Tom sent her a poisonous look, he was still mad but nobody else had a right to pick on Harry.
That look got her even more agitated and she got up and started pacing.

“Look, Tom, I’ve already put repeatedly my foot to my mouth so you won’t mind it once more. That association you have with Harry, whether is lovers or family, is what concerns me the most.” this time his glare made her to back off a few steps but she didn’t drop it.
“Harry is a lovely child, polite and kind with everyone, even if he is not an intellectual. I could really like him but he is so brave and impulsive that he puts my teeth on edge. . . In the summer he got you defending Diagon with that madman, two days ago you defended Hogsmeade against Grindelwald himself, and sooner rather than later you are going to face him again, I’m not stupid you know. How long until he gets you killed like my stupid son in law did my grandson?” she crossed her arms.
Tom reminded himself that it was better if things ended peacefully.

“I don’t know your family situation but I can definitely assure you, I can protect myself.”
Disgustedly, her eyes filled with tears.

“That’s what my Misha thought so too, he was brilliant like you, but such an idealist and he let his father convince him when he started spouting. What business did he had, a mere boy, with Bolsheviks? We were from a noble line, we should have gone. . . Instead he died from a muggle bullet and the idiot Piotr not much later. My poor Sasha, my daughter, died from grief from losing them both.”
Tom wanted to point out that her family history had nothing to do with him and he barely held back from voicing at how weak he thought her daughter. . . but Nadia hadn’t finished yet.
“Your Harry is such an idealist too and much, much, worse. Sooner or later he is going to meet his end too in such a battle and then what are you going to do? He is your whole life as you. . .”
Maybe it was the beyond unlucky timing but her words had hit Tom like a whip to his face. Any kind of logical thought was in the past.

He didn’t let her finish, his hand had closed violently around her neck.

“I can guarantee to you that nothing is going to hurt Harry.” he kept his hand squeezing until she nodded that she had understood, then he let her go.
Tom was appalled with himself, not for almost killing her, which was just deserts in his opinion, but for dropping his mask prematurely. He had never done so before in her presence. . .
He expected that she would twist her impressive wards to throw him out but her reaction was way beyond his comprehension.
Nadia hadn’t even got her breath right but her words came forth both demure and proud but mostly truly insane:

“Then I’m going to have two grandsons if you will allow me.”
At almost the same moment they heard a loud crash. Harry had broken down both wards and door, panting alarmingly from magical if not corporal fatigue, but he had forced his way inside to save her.

Tom couldn’t help a sardonic eyebrow, mocking her and the dawning comprehension to her eyes. . .

Tom was enjoining Harry’s confusion and discomfort with Nadia’s mothering but his lips tightened when she offered him a Pepper Up with his tea. She was right of course; Harry’s appearance was ghastly, deathly pale and almost trembling with fatigue from the power drain, but the fact that he was bad enough that his weakness was appraised with a mere look from a virtual stranger was adding to his already towering wrath.
It wasn’t of course the only reason for his partner’s unease; Tom didn’t need a mirror to know that his eyes hadn’t darkened to violet, yet, and he doubted that it was going to happen soon. He could tell that Nadia was still anxious about such a display of power and anger but she was finally keeping her counsel to herself and Harry was keeping quiet as well, to avoid implicating her to their fight if he could help it.
He could feel Harry’s eyes on him too, appraising in his turn, for all that he played clueless, making nice with Nadia and complimenting the sweets, he was waiting for the explosion. But Tom had no intention to give it to him so soon, even if Nadia saw nothing wrong with leaving then alone if he asked. For one it was going to limit a great deal the incoming punishment and secondly and more importantly this was a personal matter and he had given her enough rights as it was.

. . .No, everything was going to come in the right time. . .
Few minutes later his followers dared to grace the door, led by a purposeful Granger, and were admitted without fuss. A look to their worried, guilty, expressions and the barest of scans told him that they had sat idle while Harry risked his neck. Very well then, they were going to face the consequences. Much better to spend his ire to them now than on Harry and probably do irrevocable damage, he still looked like he could fell from a strong breeze, it was definitely going to hurt him more.
Nadia was ecstatic to see her and to host more of his ‘friends’ and was very welcoming. She seemed ready to offer them tea as well, but then she noticed the late time and changed it, insisting to diner. Tom judged it more prudent to stay and accepted for everyone but wasn’t surprised when Harry protested with the excuse to not disappoint Dorea and was pleased when Leonard contested it, saying that he had sent a Patronus informing her that they were going to be late.
The preparations to set the modest room to host comfortably ten people was nothing effort wise and he undertook them with his customary mask of graciousness and ease with his surroundings, which seemed to alleviate the last of Nadia’s worries. It looked like she had decided to take his explosion as an aberration and totally forgive it, foolish old lady that she was.
Not that the whole thing didn’t have any divergence at all to her behaviour, far from it. The positive change became more than apparent when she took to serve them the food by herself and her house elf, instead of asking Hermione to help her with it, like usual. She was still very cordial with the chit but she didn’t treat her as if she were her future daughter in law.

At least there was never going to be a repeating of that particular tedious discussion.
His followers had taken this turn of evens as a break before execution and relaxed, in opposition to Harry who tensed even more. They talked about safe topics and it even come about that Dorea had been a regular client of the Exandus until her husband had got captured and she stopped going out all together.
All of them were properly deferential to their elderly hostess of course, he would have expected nothing less towards a pureblood Lady, but a bit of attention made him realise that his act had given them an exaggerated impression and they were treating her like if she were his mother, not merely his ex-boss, even Leonard and Minerva were following the others’ example.

He had spent an illogical amount of time in this place.
Finally, after she got the tray of the sweets out again, he had enough of this game and nodded discretely to the others to get ready. Naturally they did it promptly and were loaded with the books soon enough, even the girls. Harry was especially displeasured when he ended the only one empty handed but Tom didn’t even have to shot him down at this, the others did it by themselves without prompting. Granger’s rant was both loud and lengthy and the others’ not much behind, Nadia’s most of all.
That fact displeasured Harry even more but his reaction wasn’t in full effect due to his exhaustion.
Tom wasn’t amused.

At different circumstances he could have found it endearing, that stubbornness, now it just pissed him off more. The Pepper Up had helped, Harry had stopped looking like he rose from his deathbed, but he was still unsteady on his feet and weak as a kitten. No, Tom was amazed he had managed to apparate and not keel over. . .and yet he wanted to help carry the books on top of this too. . .
. . .If he believed that he could get away with merely carrying books then golden boy was approaching delusional. . .
They said their goodnights and set for Potter Manor via apparition with Harry complaining at all the way as he was forced to go sidelong.

His partner’s concerns regarding Lady Potter were proven right as they found her waiting for them in the foyer with a book. Leonard took it upon him to offer explanations for the decision but the Lady’s attention, after she assured herself that her son was alright, was focused entirely on Harry and she held him by her, once the others progressed deeper into the house. Tom chose to stay as well.
“What happened to you, Harry? You look really ill, should I call a healer, maybe Madam Wilson, as you are acquainted with her?” her voice was openly concerned too.
That got Harry to react predictably.

“Please no, Aunt Dorea, I’m alright, truly. I don’t need a healer, especially Madam Wilson.” he defended vehemently, a breath later adding a more sheepish.

“No insult intended.”
But he had fallen on someone almost as stubborn as he; while Dorea was visibly ecstatic to be called aunt, not noticing or not caring at the manipulation, she pursed her lips and started cajoling.
“You are not alright, Harry dear. If you have overtaxed yourself, risking your recent healing and don’t want to face her about it, I can call Neville, Lord Longbottom. He is a close friend of the family and he works specifically with the aurors, so he is used to such things and will neither scold you nor pry, I promise.”
Harry blushed horribly and tried again to protest but Dorea was firm and Tom finally decided to stop the chase and interfered.

The healer’s presence wouldn’t do any good anyway.
“Your concern is much appreciated Lady Dorea, but no healer, or even hospital, can truly help with magical exhaustion. He just needs sleep and a lot of it.”
Harry sent him a furious, suspicious, glare but contested it with a single:

“It’s not that bad.”
Dorea’s eyes turned calculating but not in a way that discarded Harry, even though he appeared weaker than her expectations. . . she had started getting attached too.

“This is not strictly true, Tom. While not publicly known, there is a dark potion in the Potter Grimoirium that can battle most of its effects. I can brew it tonight.”
Tom sent her an almost entirely honest smile; he had caught something like that in the grimoirium and intended to brew it himself if need to be, as Prince was prohibited from it, but Dorea had fell right to his hands and freed him much needed time.
“Thank you, Lady Dorea.”
Dorea smiled as well, pleased by his concern.

“I thank you, Tom, for telling me the true problem.” her smile got a bit lopsided.

“But you should call me just Dorea, you are family too.”
Tom scoffed at the sentimentality inside but smiled and nodded on the outside.

“As you wish, Dorea.”
Harry was still very uncomfortable with the whole affair but accepted the inevitable with grace.

“Thanks Aunt Dorea, it means a lot.”
Dorea beamed at the warmth of his voice.

“Think nothing of it dear; just go to rest, for it to work perfectly in the morning.”
But Harry wasn’t in such a bad shape to have entirely deserted his wits. While he smiled at Dorea and said that he would, his look towards him, while supposedly coy, was burning with his suspicions.
“And you, Tom, what are you going to do?”
Tom sent him his shark smile; he had no reason to avoid the truth.

“It’s early yet, not even nine, the others will be on the laboratory, I will join them to work on the Stone and then train with them for a bit.”
Harry didn’t need straighter words, he understood perfectly and his eyes flashed with rage. He straightened his body, expelling his weakness like snake skin, and smiled apologetically at Dorea.

“Excuse me Aunt, I will rest, but I really need to talk with Tom first.” he grabbed his hand, almost dragging him away.
Tom was so pleased with the change that he allowed it; it wouldn’t do to have that fight in public anyway. . .
Harry didn’t lead him far, only to the ballroom, the farthest large room from the lab in the house, it was going to do.
Silently, they both cast privacy and locking charms but after that was done Harry was the first to open the fight and he did it with an audacious:

“What on earth you think you are planning?” baiting him.
Tom had counted on exactly that type of reaction but the self-righteous tone tested the control to his rage all the same. Still, he hid it, smirking and waiting to see what his friend would willingly volunteer.

“Nothing that’s not justified or totally within my rights.” he told him airily.
Harry sent him an unimpressed look.

“Let’s assume that it’s truly within your inflated idea of rights, but justified?” his voice was calm this time, except dubious, testing.
Tom just looked at him; he could see the other’s unease for all the conversational tone, especially from that, and responded in kind, twisting the knife.

“My orders were straightforward, to not lose you from their eyes and keep you away from trouble. In what of those did they succeed or even actually tried?”
Harry was indignant and it wasn’t completely faked.

“You won’t touch them. That was under my orders and completely my fault.” he still didn’t volunteer the how, merely raising an eyebrow.

“Or that proposal for a co leadership was just empty words?” the last part was definitely a challenge but held a little bit of hurt that the offer had withdrew that fast.
Tom’s fists clenched with this, but he was grimly satisfied that his arrow had caught flesh and far from ready to stop taunting yet. It was the only thing keeping him sane.

“Oh, that was never at risk, darling, assuming of course that you have control of your mental facilities.” he smiled brightly.

“You don’t want them to get hurt now, do you?”
The powerful flash to the other’s eyes told him that that had hurt even more but it still wasn’t enough to break Harry, he stayed composed yet again.

“Semantics, Tom, I didn’t put them in any danger. The only threat to them is currently you, not me, which you really truly shouldn’t, oath and all.” his partner smiled at him sweetly but it held nothing pleasant.
Tom’s patience was running thin and his fists were getting slick with blood, cut from his very nails, by holding on. But he wasn’t going to break first. That resolution was his only anchor at the moment.

“Maybe, but you are still a danger to yourself, look at the condition you returned. . .” he forced himself to smile as pleasantly as Harry.

“. . .And you have no right to mention oaths.” he put it almost offhandedly, underlining the threat.
But Harry didn’t pay any attention to his words his eyes were riveted to his face and then to his bloodied fists, softening considerably.

“Tom, I. . .” he hesitantly tried, licking his lips.
That was it!

Tom had held on his control even against Harry’s acidic tongue but he couldn’t stand his compassion. His wand was out as by instinct and was casting before the actual thought was formed to his mind. The Cruciatus was involuntary and totally unrestrained, fuelled by his tremendous rage; it wasn’t over in seconds either.
The moment his head cleared, somewhat, Tom was shocked and disgusted by his own action. While thoroughly beating Harry was definitely on the cards after the scare he had given him, such a complete loss of control was both weak and unproductive; his partner could have easily died from it in his present condition. It wasn’t the only thing that shocked him though.
Harry had been hit by the full force of his Cruciatus, maybe beyond that. The natural thing would have been for him to fell on the floor, trashing madly and screaming himself hoarse, from the unbearable pain. But no such thing. . .

Well there was definitely pain, Harry’s face had been contorted in a horrible grimace but not a sound had left his lips and even when the curse was dispatched he didn’t collapse in any stage of exhaustion.
It was insane, Harry had no such power; no one on earth had.
He was mad as hell too.

The exact moment that Harry was able to breathe he staggered the few steps that were parting them and grabbed him by the tie.

“What the hell were you thinking?” he shouted right to his face.
Tom told himself that he wasn’t going to kill him right this instant, it was going to be too easy. He grabbed the offending wrists, holding them where they were, and squeezed mercilessly, nearly snapping the bones. Harry still didn’t make any sound.

“You, you dare to ask me that?” he hissed, to not scream, right back.
But the pain had grounded Harry and there was again understanding in his eyes, except the building anger and pain.

“I’m alright, Tom, nothing happened.” he hissed too, as if to ease him.
Tom forgot even the meaning of the word restrain; he violently shoved Harry to the nearest wall, crashing him against it. Harry wasn’t one to simply accept it, shoving back and using his whole body to do it. Tom was beyond disgusted with himself when his body responded, he wasn’t the only one though and he used exactly that to pin Harry there.
“Nothing happened?” he didn’t allow him to answer, his fingers closed around Harry’s neck, marking him with his blood and constricting, far harsher than he ever attempted with his partner before.

“Don’t you dare lying to Me.” every word a hard squeeze, the line parting punishment from outright murder becoming an incredibly thin one.
Harry continued to fight him but he was too weakened by whatever the hell he had done to be truly effective. As the lack of air started becoming a problem though his fingers clamped around Tom’s own with their entire steely strength, forcing him to ease, or have them break. The fact that Tom didn’t really want him killed played its part too. . .
A handful of deep breaths later Harry started berating him, still keeping his hands prisoners as he didn’t trust him to not attack him, Tom let him, for the moment.

“The hell, Tom, I didn’t lie. It wasn’t an easy thing, hence my state, but I’m here and, as you can see, fully alive.” his voice was a lot more strained than usual but he wasn’t allowing himself more than the natural breaks.
Tom grid his teeth until they were ready to snap but tried to regain some semblance of composure. The longest that Harry stayed the calmest one the more control he had over this, his partner kept his occlumency barriers ridiculously high.

“Really love? I would call breaking your word something very different, but what was the so taxing thing that you did, you never mentioned?” he asked silkily.
The fist that he couldn’t avoid and the taste of blood told him that he had succeeded, he used the other’s momentum and the hand that Harry hadn’t time to release in his rapid action sending his partner back to the wall but he didn’t return the punch, if he started he wasn’t going to stop and he needed those answers.
Harry’s rage didn’t ease one bid.

“Tom, you bastard, I’ve never broke it. I have killed, murdered, to keep my word to you.” his voice strained even more at this, but then he jutted his chin up.

“And it’s none of your business.”
So much for his composure!

Tom didn’t even felt his body consciously move, just his hand closing harshly on Harry’s hair, forcing him to raise his head as far as it got while he lowered his, bringing their eyes just inches apart, their laborious breaths mixed too.
“That was then, darling. I felt you slipping away, Dying!” he hated himself for the emotional catch to his voice but he hated Harry and the responding softening to his eyes even more. He tightened the hold to his hair to something more painful.
Harry’s eyes involuntary watered but his expression didn’t change, there was clearly an apology and understanding present, but regretful resolution was definitely the dominant emotion.

“I didn’t want to go that far and I’m really sorry for this,” for scaring you, although that part was tactfully not said,

“I’ll do my best to not do it again.” meaning that if there was need about it his given word was obsolete and void.

“-Stop-that-”
Again Tom’s hands had moved without his consent and he was shaking Harry until his teeth were chattering.

“You understood wrong.” he whispered.

“No more suicidal stuns, for any reason, I’m holding you to your word.” an order.
Harry batted his hands away.

“It’s not your decision, you have no right.” there was no hesitation or uncertainly to his voice.
Tom grabbed him again, forcing his hands above his head, this time in total control of himself.

“Think again love. If you are going to keep doing that to me I’d rather kill you myself and get it over.”

Harry didn’t react to this, looking stonily forward, and Tom smirked chillingly, he hadn’t finished yet.

“I definitely wouldn’t look so self-righteous in your place.” he admonished;

“You are not that selfless.”
“Fuck off!” Harry protested venomously and his attempts to free himself were anything but jokes, but a hard jut to his hips put a definite end to those, proving the truth to his words.

The steely hardness he found there was nothing less than what he expected and yet Tom took no pleasure with it, or even at being right, as it was a very sharp reminding that there were still reasons, pretty good ones, to fear the validity of Harry’s feelings.
Still, he bowed to meet the corresponding moan, but he didn’t kiss him, as his partner clearly expected, although the whispering to his ear could be considered a caress.

“Not so fast, sweetheart, you have been hard since the fight started and stayed that way even when I nearly killed you, this speaks more of an insane, suicidal, adrenaline addict than a hero.”
Harry’s look was withering.

“Like you are any different?”
Tom nearly laughed.

“Maybe, but definitely not suicidal.” a bite to his cartilage and his next sweetly threatening hiss was directly above Harry’s lips.

“You want to die? I will give it to you. I will kill you and bring you back again and again until you have enough. . .” he wasn’t sure he was joking at this moment.
Thankfully Harry wasn’t that suicidal, he kicked him with all his strength, breaking the fibula, and managing to get away from being cornered. But Tom wasn’t that defeated, administering an analogous curse as he fell, Harry collapsed just a few feet away from him.
They took a moment to heal themselves and they were facing each other again. Tom felt no mercy but Harry managed just fine for all his weakened state, although he repeatedly had to cause priory between them (a thing formally agreed to be avoided) to keep things so.
Tom found himself admiring his sheer stubbornness once again but even when his depleted power started to seriously desert him Harry didn’t give up, just raised his head, baring his neck, and looked at him with that proud, half-daring, half-suicidal expression.

‘You want to kill me? Do it. I dare you!’
He suddenly had enough of this.

“What on earth you did that it’s so serious that you prefer dying than confessing about it?”
Harry was at a loss.

“Tom, I didn’t. . .”
His patience was over.

“Please spare me. Ever since we got here your responses were either intentionally provocative or you tried to turn things into sex, you were distracting me.”
Harry was offended by this.

“I didn’t try to use sex.”
Tom hid a weary sigh.

“Fine, it wasn’t conscious. . . Now will you tell me what you did? I doubt that I can grow angrier.” a smirk.

“I’ve never heard of someone overthrowing the Cruciatus. . .”
Harry had to hide a triumphal grin and sent him a ‘look’, but he finally complied.

“Fine, you were going to find out anyway in a day or two.” he threw him a small, white silken bag.
Tom was beyond curious at this point and opened the bag without a check for curses, he trusted Harry to not give him anything harmful even at the current circumstances. Harry sent him a half-bitter smile for the show of trust, but he was too absorbed to what he found to notice it with anything more but his peripheral vision.
“What on earth are these beads?” even at the moment he asked he already knew half the answer.

The sea-blue, marble sized, beads were totally infused with Harry’s power and an almost negligible part of his own. No wonder he hadn’t noticed. Above Harry’s person there was no difference with his magical aura and collected as a whole they could pass for him, if one checked only for signature.
Harry sent him a half teasing smile, for demanding an explanation instead of figuring things by himself, but complied.

“They are deflecting amulets.” still his tone was the tiniest bit defensive.
Well, that was definitely informative!
Tom held back an uncouth muttering.

“Already figured that, genius, the question is why you made them and, more importantly, who helped you with the ritual in the first place?”
Harry was taken aback.

“How?” but a moment later he was rolling his eyes.

“If you guessed that much why bother with the question?” Tom sent him a look and he sighed.

“They are my Christmas gifts, one of them yours by the way;” he grinned unrepentantly yet didn’t offer an answer to the second one though.
Tom bit his cheek, asking for patience, but offered something on the table too.

“One: Nothing less than a full ritual could have gathered that much power. And Two: who you think helped you survive it?” a wink,

“But why you needed something that extreme in the first place?” utter silence.

“Harry?”
Harry looked stunned and grateful by his revelation; he squeezed his hands with trembling fingers.

“Thank you Tom, thank you so much!” and beamed, yet he was also still equally irritable with him but Tom doubted that he could truly reach his own point.

“. . .I still can’t believe you asked that. . .have you forgotten what we’ll have to do nine days from now. The guys will need any possible help to stay alive.” his hands were moving in intense gestures, illustrating his point.
Tom rolled his eyes. He should have known!

“That I can actually believe,” he drawled but he was far from true teasing mood yet.

“But you still haven’t told me who helped you. Don’t make me ask for a third time.” he didn’t even need to use threatening tone.
Harry understood it too.

“I asked Mr Manthos’ help and he was kind enough to agree and share a part of his heritage with me. . .happy now?” his tone artificially light.
Tom was actually far from happy but at least he had a new target for his ire.

“Why on earth you asked the help of that drunkard, are you mad?” he held his voice strictly controlled.
Not that it mattered to Harry, judging from his expression, he was offended as if he had insulted the Potters.

“For Salazar’s sake, Tom, don’t call him that! I thought that you were all for appreciating power for power; Mr Aggelakis’ ritual was incredible and you can’t deny the amazing results.”
Tom both could and would. . .

“Can’t I?” he asked dangerously, “I’m going to call him whatever it pleases me and you are going to accept it.” for however long I’m going to let him live that’s it. . .

“Maybe, if your Greek friend didn’t drank so much you wouldn’t be half dead at this moment.” he concluded silkily.
Harry wasn’t immediate in his defence this time and if Tom had to describe his look it was acutely guilty. He had a very bad feeling about this. . .

“Actually, Tom, that was definitely not Mr Manthos’ fault. He had instructed me to give as much I could but. . .”
“You translated it to literally extirpate your magical core.” Tom pinched his nose sharply, at this point so beyond tired that he couldn’t even summon an angry response, it didn’t help that he wasn’t really surprised with this. . .he should have anticipated it truly. . .
“Err, yeah. . . I’m sorry.” Harry was looking down, truly remorseful, but it was more about worrying him than risking his neck.
Tom’s lips tightened, but decided to use his current numbness to get it over with the bad news.

“So? What did he want?” he asked casually.
“Tom?” Harry tried for innocent but the minute widening to his eyes told him all he wanted to know, it was bad. . .
Tom grid his teeth and rephrased it.

“Harry. What did the guzzler asked from you? You said he shared a part of his heritage, not even Aggelakis could do that for nothing.”
Harry had to close his eyes to this before straightening his body into total stiffness and Tom reasserted things, bad wasn’t even covering it. . .

“He asked me to take care of his last remaining relative as if she was my blood and pass the ritual to her eventual children, if they come.” he sounded resigned.
If that was the general level of the demands Harry’s powerful luck had hit again. . .

“So?” he asked with some amusement.

That sounded way too easy to truly bother Harry. . .
Harry sighed dramatically.

“It’s Trelawney!”
Tom couldn’t help himself, he bursted out laughing, freeing some of the tension to his body. Harry truly deserved it and he was going to encourage the bothersome little bug just to see him twitching. . .
Harry mock glared at him.

“You laugh, but if Mr Manthos didn’t dislike you as much as you do he would have asked for your hand for her.”
Tom’s mirth evaporated. The little pest was worst than Myrtle and he wasn’t going to be able to curse her as she was as good as Harry’s sister from now on, his eyes narrowed: Harry was still trying to distract him to bring it on.

“What else?”
There wasn’t even a flicker to Harry’s eyes to betray that his game had been up.

“I swore to destroy Grindelwald, even at the cost of my own life’s.” absolutely no hesitation.
Tom wanted to swear up a blue steak but he knew Harry enough to know that even that wasn’t what had set Harry in such an edge.

“What Else?” he asked tensely.
This got a surprised look from Harry, who expected a much stronger reaction.

“I swore to never become a Dark Lord,” that one was so obvious that it didn’t deserve a comment and he just sent him a look. Harry met it head on and his voice was completely steady as he added the last part.

“I swore to never allow the rising of another Dark Lord either.” absolutely no emotion and no attempt of shielding whatsoever.
Enough was enough!
Tom didn’t allow himself to truly think about it, he simply fired a reducto, destroying the opposite wall.
“Well, that one explains the attempted suicide!” he told him dryly.
There was an unguarded moment but Harry didn’t have the time to explain himself. The sound of rapid clinking heels and Dorea’s rattled voice interrupted them.

“Harry? Tom? Are you alright boys? What happened?” obviously the explosion had weakened the wards.
Harry remained composed.

“We are alright Aunt Dorea, it was an accident. We will fix it.”
Whatever Dorea Potter heard in his voice it was enough to free them from the hook, for now.

“Alright dear, it happens. Just please don’t bother with it, you are exhausted and the potion needs thee hours more shimmering to the very least.”
“I’ll handle it, Lady Dorea.” Tom promised readily to get her away from his back.

As his shock started passing and things turning out plainly unbearable he found himself not only hiding his feelings, he couldn’t feel anything too, the casting out of his emotions becoming as natural as breathing.
Still it certainly didn’t sound perfect, for once, because Dorea heard enough warning in his voice to not come near them and chitchat, or even to insist again for him to drop the honorific.

“Thank you Tom dear, I appreciate it.” he could make the sounds of her depart.
But Tom didn’t spare even a cursory thought regarding Dorea, or his lacklustre performance, his mind, cleared from all emotion, was spinning with decisions.

Harry should die for this, of that he was certain. There was no other punishment that could cover such a betrayal. It should be the easiest thing to kill him right now, in his weakened state, but it would also require eliminating the Potters, Granger and Minerva, to the very least.

He couldn’t see a way to do it and get away with it at present, never mind that the difficulty was going to increase in a couple days.
Still, even if he could, there was still Grindelwald’s matter to consider. Harry had gotten him into this mess in the first place so he could easily serve him as a human shield in the battle to the very least and if he survived past it then and only then he would need to plan the appropriate execution.

The next week was going to be taxing on his acting talent but not overtly much. . .
Harry hadn’t dropped his eyes from his once regarding those musings and certainly didn’t seem to have any doubt on the verdict.

“Shouldn’t you at least try to hear out my reasons?” still he sounded calm, far too calm and assured, not a hint of pleading there, or even simply regret.
Tom’s fury rose; Harry was going to grew regretful yet.

“Why? What could I possibly gain by this drivel? Will your idiotic reasons change your action?” he ignored Harry’s protests and started playing with the bag, twisting the knife as far as it got.

“It was all for nothing of course.” his lips twisted on a biter smile.

“The moment I’d kill you I’ll be free to kill them easily too, where that does leaves your hard work and protection? You betrayed us for nothing.” the last words literally spat.
That one broke Harry’s composure but strangely enough it wasn’t about his friends.

“Fuck it, Tom, I’ve never betrayed you.” he sounded pissed but his eyes betrayed his hurt more than anything else.
“Really, my precious one, you lie even to yourself. What would you call returning to the Light?” utterly poisonous honey.

The pain on those eyes had started becoming bothersome and he turned his back.

“Now stop wasting my time with your lies and half hearted excuses.”
That treatment finally broke Harry’s apathy.

“I sure as hell don’t lie, or returned to the Light.” the words were spat out.

“Do to me what you will but don’t dare say that!” he grasped his shoulder, forcing Tom to face him.
Even in his dispassionate state it was impossible for Tom to keep himself in complete control after this. He pretty much used the other’s momentum, making his partner stumble badly, and turned sharply his arm to his back, almost dislocating Harry’s shoulder in the process.

“Don’t touch me again,” he whispered menacing, almost against the other’s face, “else the Potters will die tonight.”
Harry was never one to accept defeat and now that calm was out of the picture he struggled with everything he had.

“You won’t hurt them, you have sworn their protection.” he panted.
Tom managed to subdue him but it was far from painless.

“Wrong darling, according to our very own pact, all oaths and promises are now null and void.” his own voice wasn’t at his steadiest but he fixed the wall to prove it.
Harry was perplexed by this.

“You can’t really believe that, even by your own reasoning, my magic is still intact.”
Tom told himself to not go into debate for this but it was impossible, he could never resist picking Harry’s brain.

“Well, it looks like a flux to me, a magical impasse.” he shrugged.

“Someone could take your current suicide attempt as support to your claims but I won’t. I am a Dark Lord. You swore freely to take me out as such even if you regretted it afterwards, my own opinion stands too.”
“But I didn’t swear that!” Harry was all but tugging his hair in his frustration.

“I swore to use any means available to stop anyone with Lord level like power who will use said power to enslave people and keep them subdued by terror.” a soulful look.

“But you are not planning to do that, are you? You promised to do things in the political way.” a deep breath,

“So there is absolute no reason for things to come to this.” he sounded hopeful, desperate and resolute.
Tom had no idea why he continued this moot talk.

“Ideally I fully intend to keep it that way but if the political fail for any reason did you expected that I would give up?” he was very curious about the answer though.
Harry didn’t miss a beat.

“Even if Dumbledore manages to blacklist us we can always try for civil unrest, the existing list of people subjugated by the ministry is so long that it’s not even funny. The simplest pressure of all of them collected could overthrow a government. We don’t need terrorism, not even as the last resort.” he bargained.
Tom could tell that Harry had thought about this, deeply, he wasn’t pulling things out of his arse to appease him, or gain time.

“This approach could end more bloodied than specifically targeted hits.” he replied delicately, testing.
The look on Harry’s eyes was literally tortured and full of unshed tears, but the expression didn’t falter, if anything it became even more determined.

“I know, but it will be the people’s choice, I can’t ask for anything more.” he supported his conviction by opening his mind and presenting the entire talk regarding the oath.
It wasn’t the merely the memories passing through. . .
Tom didn’t just observe Harry rush like a Gryffindor (and get expertly manipulated by the Greek too,) he got a full dose of his mightily conflicting emotions, even the deepest ones. Harry may have started the whole messy issue to protect his friends but it was far from his only objective.
Harry had valid reasons to be so terrified that ended up agreeing to this, he had spend countless sleepless nights since they returned to the 40s trying to anticipate every possible outcome to their plans and actions and a way to rise politically even at their current near nobody station (and how it had smarted when he realised that a tiny part of him missed his ‘Boy Who Lived’ status and the power and political clout going with it.)
He wasn’t blindsided to his true nature and accepted it better than anyone else going as far as to understood the necessity of some things but he couldn’t really handle the possible things he was ready to stomach out of love too, Harry was frankly terrified with the fact that if he hadn’t interfered to save Nadia in time it would have taken just a well crafted excuse to agree helping him to cover the body.
This wasn’t merely a way to put pressure on him in keeping a relatively bloodless path either, it was Harry’s forceful insurance to himself that he was going to keep him from becoming a monster with every means he had, or else to be forced to kill him should the need arise, even if he had doubts that he could bear it even then, or yet prefer his own death over it.
Tom could understand and even accept its reasoning, up to a point, but he was disgusted with the sacrimoniousness of it all and beyond enraged from the emotional blackmail, yet he could see that Harry himself wasn’t completely consciously aware of it. A part of him was risking everything just for a confirmation that he was so loved that Tom wouldn’t kill him no matter what and even deeper still it was directed by the wish that if things were to end then it should happen the soonest possible.
. . .He was that important to the other. . .
A part of him flared viciously to that presumptuousness and it crossed his mind to pretend he forgiven him and take him to bed just to sate his needs and get him out of his system once and for all; to see Harry shattering with the realisation. But no, it wasn’t going to do any good, or cure him. His obsession with Harry had started years before noticing him in that light, such a step could only used against him.
. . . He had enough with such weakness. . .
Whatever Tom had felt, except rage, concerning what he discovered into Harry’s mind he didn’t allow himself to show it. He regarded Harry with a sneer.

“Excellent suggestion, if things turn to this I will be sure to take it under consideration.” his tone utterly dismissive.
Harry was nothing if not proud, he wiped every trace of emotion to his face, he was going to show nothing if he was to die.

“So you are going to kill me then?” he asked casually.
Tom grid his teeth, he hated himself because even now he wasn’t completely resolved about it.

“What choice do I have? You already decided the course.”
That one couldn’t remain unanswered though. Harry’s eyes flashed.

“Me? You are the one overreacting - it was already explicit agreed and understood that you will try the political and that if you changed your mind and got all Voldemort I would be opposing you no matter what - the oath changes nothing.”
Tom’s anger flared. The little presumptuous bastard!

“It changes everything!” he roared.
Harry was almost as agitated but on the sad kind.

“Do you really want to become Voldemort?”
Tom scoffed.

“Of course not.” was he playing the idiot?
Harry looked a mix of relieved and patient.

“Then what changed?”
Tom was amazed that Harry hadn’t got it, supporter of free choice that he was. . .

“What changed? Only you could be so thick darling. Before it was my choice whether I followed suit or not. Now not only you are forcing it out but, even if I was weak enough to agree, I’m probably going to lose you anyway facing Grindelwald or during some other madness.” it was a near failed battle.
Harry had the nerve to softly smile at him.

“But you won’t lose me, not if you don’t want it. Have you forgotten the horcrux?”
Tom had been actually so agitated that he had forgotten indeed. If he was a different person, he may have kissed Harry for this, such was his relief. There was no need for desperate solutions, he had options!

Instead he sent him a dark look.

“What about the new prophesy then? When were you going to tell me about it, a moment before your voluntary death or facing me in a duel? Wasn’t the first guillotine enough for us?”
Harry returned the look with interest.

“Who’s said anything about volunteering for it? And even if it comes to this, my death for Grindelwald’s, I’m counting on you to bring me back.” dry tone, a fast fierce smile.

“. . .even if its finished between us at least I won’t end up standing alone when everything is said and done. . .” it was a soft whisper not really meant for his ears.
Tom heard him though.

“I need to think about it. Go to sleep.” he was abrupt. . . and he really needed it too. . . he needed to stay away from Harry to see if his mind and heart could agree on a common decision, he had options yes, but he needed to be able to live with his choice.
“I understand.” Harry faced him steadily, a bit too accepting maybe.
Tom wasn’t satisfied though, he needed something more.

“If you help me to keep things discreet until the battle I will ensure that the Potters and your friends won’t share your fate if I decide to kill you.”
Harry’s expression was murderous. He didn’t spell the words ‘fuck you!’ but they were definitely heard and heartfelt. He stormed to his room.
Tom was strangely content about this; there was no room for suicidal meekness. Still there were many, many, ways he could punish Harry, regardless if he ended killing him or not, his partner was going to face everything. . .
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The Fate Changed Now What?