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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
- 15
- 16
Harry's pov
Harry kept going through the set drills almost mechanically, counting the minutes for the break. He really needed to check the Department of Mysteries for those books, since he had a feeling in his gut that a new and probably deadly confrontation with his partner was fast approaching.
Tom's possessiveness and jealously in the morning had brought his hopes up for a reconciliation but those hopes had crashed, painfully so, in the next hours. For he could see nothing but burning anger and worse, sometimes, indifference to the other's gaze, the rare times he bothered to look at him.
It spiked Harry's own anger through the roof, cause it made him wonder if the morning scene was nothing more than an elaborate rush of his partner's, to convince the others that he still cared and so not risk their loyalty if he died in the battle or otherwise. The thought hurt well beyond belief and he made Tom pay, many times over, using the other's sorest subject: Public Humiliation. His partner had advanced beyond belief to what he couldn't even touch when they had first met, but on purely Light magics he still couldn't best him, especially when he was so far motivated.
Harry enjoyed his revenge to the other; hardly caring anymore on how Tom was going to retaliate afterwards. But when that was done and he was satisfied, he started thinking on more broad terms and realised that Tom's foul mood and rage may have been completely unrelated to him, well before.
The sore subject was something that bothered and irritated him as well and he had honestly no idea on how he was going to fix it, or even stop Tom from doing something extremely foolish, or deadly; (those two were usually close intertwined.)
Their new problem was that while Jasper Bones had gone to the bat for them, (done before Tom removed the curse from Amelia to his utter surprise) George Diggory didn't held to the same principles, or even foresight, and, while he knew what he had against him, still refused to place his political weight behind them and fully support Bones to the Minister with granting them permission to fight on their full capabilities, countering it with a vague promise of a full pardon afterwards.
Harry would have to be a complete idiot to agree in this and he wanted to tear his hair out from sheer frustration. He did the best he could to fix it, by writing to Sam for help and arranging with Leonard to have the Diggorys for dinner in Potter Manor tomorrow night, instead of the Undersecretary's home as it had been proposed.

Tom wouldn't have it as easy to totally let loose in front of witnesses, (maybe he needed to invite the Bones as well?) and definitely wouldn't kill if it could be traced back to him.
He knew of course that he will still be taking a huge risk, but he considered it a calculated one as he believed that he could diffuse any situation, at least until the battle.

Tom wasn't an idiot to face Grindelwald alone, and he could deal afterwards.
Well, he could. Assuming he found the information for the ritual he was searching for, he definitely could.
The whole idea was probably insane, but it held real promise. Everyone and their mother, even muggles, knew that Nimue, wanting Merlin only for herself, had cast a spell on him that got him to sleep peacefully in her arms, and she with him, for all eternity. But what anyone hardly knew was that there was a true ritual behind the legend.
Harry had been lucky that Professor Marythought was one of those rare few, and even more so, had enough of a romantic nature to share it with her NEWT class, together with any proof she had of this, except the exact details of the ritual itself.
He could have used a few more details but he had a plan to find them anyway. While even the Potter Grimoirium didn't have the exact information, he believed that the Department of Mysteries would have it for him. Marythought had been an Auror in her youth after all.
But even if he was wrong in his belief he could still find her home address from the Ministry, cajole the information out her and obliviate her from the knowledge that she had given it. (And yes he knew what kind of messy thing he was planning…)
If things ever got to the point of no return this was the best solution he could find for his partner to never become Voldemort. He never wanted to hurt him if he had a choice to the matter. Harry knew that Tom hated both the idea of muggle hell and oblivion. Even at the end of the rope he would spare him both if he could…and himself too if he was honest, for there were some futures he would rather not even think about.

(He stopped that train of thought at once.)
Still, now that he wasn't so angry with Tom, he had to admit that his partner still included him in his plans, even incensed with rage against him, in fact he insisted on it, and while he didn't doubt for a moment that there was manipulation involved he know that a great percent of it was genuine too.
Harry started revaluating things and the more he did the worse he felt. Tom had offered to share with him every single thing he had, including the sovereign to his followers. He had made the virtually impossible, for him, transition from 'I' to 'We' and what Harry had done to this priceless gift?
The moment he had to take a decision, regarding the both of them, what did he do? Did he ask Tom's opinion on the matter, like a proper partner should, or even offered a simple heads up, for courtesy's sake?

No, he didn't. He literally spat Tom's offer, and Tom himself for that matter, to the other's face.

…No wonder the other wanted to kill him…
The remorse was drowning him and Harry resoluted within himself to apologise at Tom on the first chance he got.
But even drowning with guilt to the inside Harry already felt better. Finally, he had found the bee to the other's bonnet, maybe there was still hope!

Tom's pov
Tom watched with mute furry as, with the end of the excursion, Harry had once again disappeared with his new friends, Aurors Septimus Weasley and Anthony Longbottom. That had been going on by three days already, Harry mostly ignoring him, unless forced, and continuing on like nothing happened, as if it was already decided they were to part ways.
His eyes met the dispassionate ones of Auror Bones and he had to use all his considerate talent to keep up his mask and just leave for the locker room. The temporary Head Auror had made no secret of his intentions to grasp Harry for Auror corps if he himself chose to drop him.
That wasn't news for him; the dissimilar treatment had been obvious from the start, ever since his partner had impressed Bones. While he and the rest of their company were still viewed with mild suspicion Harry had been elevated to be treated like a senior cadet for that accomplishment.
There were added spells or more in dept instructions to every tactic, law and Auror procedure and even got to get taught personally by the Head Auror himself and his most trusted ones. Additionally, his partner was given full unrestricted access to the library, or was frequently called forward to show the other cadets how it was done, all with the explicit expectation that Harry would follow up upon graduation.
The authorized part of this courting wasn't troubling Tom all that much, it had always been a possibility and Harry didn't seem all that ready to chain himself on the Ministry program yet. Moreover he had dutifully done everything in his power to include him and their followers to what he had learned so far and the privileges, having made no move to discourage things to keep up the offerings.
However the unofficial part was a very different matter and he seemed to consider deeply at least parts of what was offered.
An apprenticeship to the Head Auror wasn't a small thing. Not only could it give Harry instant entrance to the academy, sans exams, and an accelerated program. But, if he accepted it, he could do it right now, drop Hogwarts at once and just take his NEWT'S at the Ministry to his complete leisure.
Tom understood the Ministry's reasoning all too well for their offer: Harry was incredibly powerful, by any standards, and he had already proved he was the only one capable to stand up against him if he ever chose open warfare against the state, (Albus Bloody Dumbledore had already made his move trying to blacklist him) and it could probably divide his ranks. It was a logical step to try recruiting him.
But still, nothing of this explained the immediateness and width of Bones' personal offer and the dedication it implied. No matter how much he analysed it he couldn't come up with a professional or general motive for his approach and so had started to expand on more personal or unconventional ones.
There was something subtly off about the senior Auror in any case.
Harry would undoubtedly call him paranoid if he brought the matter up again, as he did the first time, but he remembered very sharply that first talk. Bones had offered his understanding on both counts but it was only at the second one: of sexual orientation, that he had made an actual promise to look the other way.
An action that frankly didn't fit with Tom's evaluation of the man's incorruptible character, such a keen, uncompromising, defender of the law (unless he really wasn't what he looked like) and of course his blatant, almost instant, interest for his partner.
Also, whereas homosexuality was officially against the law, no one would consider interfering to a relationship between master and apprentice, as it was considered sacred and consequently untouchable by such small things as a decree.
He recalled all the known personal facts about Bones:

Widowed, from long years ago, to a young wife that had met and lost while serving in India. Childless, with an only male heir, his eleven years old nephew, Edgar…and yet… the Auror never sought out to remarry…it wasn't unfeasible…
That or he had changed his mind about Harry and Amelia…it wasn't that impossible a feat either…

Bones wasn't a young man any more and it was more than probable that he wanted a strong, incorruptible, regent for his House and young heir in case of his demise, violent or otherwise. Harry would be perfect for that role and the Auror already knew him well enough to discern that he would remain faithful no matter what, to a wife, if committed. (Especially with him out of the picture.)
But for whatever the Auror's reason and while Tom hasn't managed to break into his mind without his knowledge, yet, to be sure, he knew enough to recognise a definite threat.
However the real threat, and what truly maddened Tom, was Harry's defeatism and consequently his susceptibility at said offer, like if he had already given up to them and so grasped for acceptance and security wherever he could find them.
That golden boy was miserable and regretting his actions, to a point, was plain to see, but he acted with such resignation that it made Tom's teeth ache by the constant grounding. Harry had tried for reconciliation numerous times already but also had, very atypically, always given up after a little while. On the contrary he looked up at Bones with more respect every day that passed.
It was like he didn't care enough to really try and he hadn't even managed to understand his reasons for been angry for Salazar's sake!
Tom's rage spiked dangerously with that thought and his hands closed fitfully on the sink as he tried to control it.

It was not the time and definitely not the place for him to let go.

The repeated splashing of cold water to his face helped some but not completely and it was at that specific vulnerable moment that Harry chose to find him.
Their eyes met at the bathroom's mirror, both looking a bit worse the wear, but Tom's hardened instantly.

"Shouldn't you be with your new friends?" he asked point black to not do something undignified, like throwing him out.
Harry didn't seem to even notice his sarcasm; he looked so contrite that it hurt; still he had the presence of mind to stay at a distance.

"I'm so sorry, Tom, I hadn't understood, I wasn't trying to exclude you, or to discard everything that you have given me, I swear. I just wasn't thinking, like usual, I'll try to not repeat that mistake." there was such flare of hope into his eyes that he hated it.
Tom snorted to this but it was bitter.

Harry hadn't understood!
Still, he hadn't understood. The apology was honest and spot on in part however it was only a small fraction of what had angered him so and a bit too little too late a comprehension for Harry's ability and the passed time.

Harry still didn't get it or even wanted to.
"Nice try love, just not enough. I would prefer it if you didn't waste my time, unless you had something meaningful to say." Harry's eyes widened a bit, maybe for his absolute dismissal, and he continued.

"Don't worry I'm not going to kill you. Why should I kill my horcrux after all?" the words came out quite normal, Tom himself almost believed them.
There was a flare of satisfaction for hurting Harry like he had been hurt and it helped. But the dying of that hope, the dimming to those green eyes, left a very bitter taste to his mouth.
"Tom." but for all the apparent despair Harry still didn't given up (and how ironic it was that he chose to do so today of all days) and stepped forward.
He couldn't stand that look, those eyes; if Harry touched him now he wasn't sure what he was going to do, so he disillusioned himself and left, trying to put that betrayed look out of his mind.
Tom wasn't thinking as he walked on, his only aim was to reach the apparition point and that pattern continued even after he reached it. He wasn't surprised in where he found himself though; it was a very habitual place for him at his first Hogwarts years.
The moorland behind Hogwarts was both well hidden from view due to the closeness to the Forbidden Forest and away enough from the school (just out of the wards) that remained private at all times. He used the place as he did then, before discovering the Come and Go Room, releasing a stream of violent curses and destroying everything standing on his way, rocks, trees, bushes, (even animals stupid enough to not scamp out in time.)
He let go, as he did then, (he could punish his followers that offended him but was inadvisable to look and even be out of control.) He let it all go until the last speck of light was long gone and the moon was getting high in the sky.
It helped a bit, nowhere near as it did then, but when he collapsed at a remaining rock to get back his breath he could think about Harry without seeing red and had gained some clarity.
It started drizzling softly and he absentmindedly spelled himself impervious.
The fact was that while Harry had finally gotten right the specific point it really didn't help all that much, if at all. It totally enraged him that his partner's first instinct was always to act by himself, like he didn't have anyone else to count at, but even that was hardly a mortal wound (he understood his upbringing all too well to be more) and he could eventually forgive it.
Nor was he remotely happy, or honestly barely tolerating, with his partner's tendency to see middle aged adults he respected (Salazar only knows how that happened with the drunkard!) as sort of father figures to the point of getting seriously influenced by them. Black had been controllable and so tolerable but in Dumbledore's case it had taken up until he nearly killed them (in his partner's circumstances quite literally) for Harry to snap out of it.
He doubted that the current cases of that particular affliction were going to bring anything good but again he could live with it.
…However the exact damage, those two irritations had made, was to expose the true wound lurking underneath, one that had stricken true on vulnerable organs…
His hot-headed hero had been right in one part after all, his idiotic oath didn't change the actual demands and terms between them, not at their essence at least. What it had done was to expose things inside him that he'd rather didn't know about.
He had always knew that, if it ever came to that, if he even merely approached the madness that was Voldemort, his partner was going to do what he considered right and attempt to kill him (and probably succeed if he was determined enough) no matter the personal consequences.
It was one of the things that Tom counted on, his Harry's steely resolve and uncompromising streak, irregardless of what it was going to do on his own heart: (he may end irrevocably broken inside, well beyond repair and screaming to the heavens, but he would do it.)
Tom could live with that fact and even embrace it due that it also held true to the reverse. He never had the slightest doubt that he could kill Harry in a flash if he ever dared to go completely against him.

But not anymore, not really.
In the here and now he had to face that it wasn't strictly true any longer, he had lied to himself all these days. Sparing Harry at that moment of acute betrayal had nothing to do with logic or even choice; he had acted completely by instinct.
Even at this moment of clarity that he totally, as objectively he could, acknowledged that there wasn't a greatest threat to him than Harry if he chose to, (and an open weakness that sapped his strength even if he didn't) not Bones and his inquiring mind, not Grindelwald, not even Dumbledore, he still doubted to.
His mind kept on flashing on a life without Harry; he hardly needed the information he had from Voldemort's life to know how it would be. Tom was already walking on a fine edge to his patience, trying to avoid gramps' mistakes. His only true entertainment through this mess came due to Harry mostly and he would be bored, bored beyond belief, without him around (colourless and empty too.) No other interaction could ever draw his interest like this, (although he had discovered hidden depts even on those he had deemed open books before,) and no one was ever going to surpass his Harry, not even come close.
So he was still disinclined, maybe even incapable, of destroying said threat unless his partner attacked him first with deadly intent. (And even then he wasn't completely sure he wouldn't hesitate for a bare moment . . . and that was all that Harry would need a moment.)
He could forgive him for his own faults but never for the uncertainty and weakness was he inspiring. On second thought it was a blessing that Harry hadn't understood, it saved his dignity.
Conclusively the strictly logical thing for him would be to act as he had already told Harry: to let him live merely so that he could keep the horcrux and cash on his Light connections. It was a good way to not repeat Voldemort's mistakes and keep some variety. But it had its own singular problems:
ONE: It had been proved fact that he couldn't trust Harry's word if it came between him and his principles, or even to have the barest regard for his own life. Worse it was impossible for him even now to completely disregard it.
TWO: While as logical ratiocination it was sound he was honest enough with himself, at this moment, to admit that it wouldn't really hold if he tested it. If he kept Harry alive, even at arms' length purely to keep the benefits, it wasn't going stay that way. Sooner rather than later he was going to either break and kill him or succumb again to his insane pull.
Which was coming again to the first point: Harry loved him but wouldn't hesitate to destroy him if forced and even if Tom attempted to forgive him this and dedicated years to his punishment for the transgression he was still never going to stop resenting him, no matter what.
He would probably spend their lives making him suffer for it until Harry broke and retaliated, forcing his own move.
Totally unacceptable.
Back on his first plan then. But, assuming that he managed to keep Harry at a business like relationship, he wouldn't even get the simple satisfaction of seeing golden boy suffering his rejection. The little bastard wasn't going to have an easy time, of that he was sure, but Tom also knew that he was going to get it over eventually and continue with his life, more or less intact, like he had done it twice by now.
It was already happening. Harry had already started distancing from his friends to protect them and making new connections in an instinctual preparation to start afresh; Auror Bones (and the father like figure he was becoming) was simply the most blatant example of this. Tom couldn't even pretend that he found even remotely acceptable such a prospect; Harry's time, thoughts, emotions and attention were his, no one else's, one way or another.
Suddenly Tom couldn't help a broken, bitter, almost hysterical laugh.
The whole analysis was bringing forth the memories of the debates he had with Voldemort about Harry. He had been so brash then, throwing his points like daggers, so certain in his beliefs and knowledge that he was never going to become something so disgusting. He still wasn't taking back a single point he had made, however some of Voldemort's were hurting now as they couldn't then, but truthfully it were his own the ones that had condemned him.
He straightened his body. He wasn't to give even Snake-remnants' memory the satisfaction.
There must be a solution he could live with?
But no, no matter how much he searched for, he couldn't come up with something that would allow him to either accept back Harry or give him the push to part with him once and for all.
But maybe he wasn't thinking about this in the right parameters?

Perhaps he simply needed to start again from the beginning?
Harry had been so concerned by his spreading madness that he was ready to get himself petrified to avoid the risk to the others, maybe he just needed to give him another chance to attempt it?
As for him, there was not a single reason in hell he should spend fifty years bored. He was keyed to the Potter wards and he had the time spell, he could very easily move forward in time to snatch baby Harry and raise him as he pleased. Not to someday become his lover obviously, (that thought was disgusting) but he could get his worthy companion all the same.
A Harry raised by him wouldn't have those, quite frankly, obsessive morals and even if it truly was something innate it would still not come out like the whole world rested on his shoulders. More, he would have Harry's whole dedication directed only to himself, challenged by none and nothing.

It was a worthy point.
Tom sighed.

Worthy point or not he wasn't going to do it.
The simplest reason against it was that he had no intention to become a father and gain those inane baby responsibilities, not even to Harry.

(Even if Harry had agreed to his plan, to become parents someday, it wouldn't come up to this, the surrogate or Harry would have dealt with the unpleasantness.)
But there was also and a much deeper point: Even if he became fond of the child, (and if there was a kid he could become fond of it would be him) he still wouldn't be his Harry. Their common past that bonded them together and even Harry's personal history, that had shaped the man he was, would be erased, the task was pointless.
The rain became heavier, Tom ignored it.
Seeing as he was never going to be truly satisfied with anything but Harry himself, exactly as he was, his mind started going in more insidious paths.
He had known from when Harry had died that his soul remained attached with his horcrux and consequently with him. So, if he died and remained so, he would have no choice but to hunt him, incapable of going anywhere but be at his side and, most of all, indefinitely powerless to affect any of his decisions.
The instant the thought concluded into his mind Tom clutched his stomach, almost doubling over, by nausea.
Tom wasn't that weak and inept to either live without or handling Harry that he would destroy him to force him to stay by any means at his side. It was reprehensible and way beneath him and only someone as degenerated as the Abomination could have come up with it.
That was, after all, Voldemort's game over plan regarding Harry. He felt sullied by even having considered it. Nor Harry deserved it; he hadn't done anything more but being himself. If Tom decided that it was too much anyway it was going to be a clean death; that much he owed him.

He wasn't his father.
Not that he could ever need such a pathetic measure; Harry would always choose him willingly in the end given a choice.

Tom wasn't his mother either.
Still, while the mere reflection to his parents intensified his sickness and the simple thought of taking after them disgusted him, some part of Tom's ruthless logic insisted to disagree and to point out more and more similarities.

He had no choice but to face that possibility.

{He had known the basic facts about his parents long before meeting his father of course:
The Riddle name was obviously not a pureblood one and his thorough research revealed the Gaunts and a possible location relatively easy. The marriage scandal had been juicy enough by itself to the pureblood community to be gossiped about twelve years afterwards and even speculation concerning love potions wasn't unheard about.

(A shameful detail that had been confirmed by his toxic reaction to Amortentia.)
However those facts were nothing but the bare bones of the truth. The scheduled visit to that wrenched Morfin and his weakling of a father held more surprises than expected even with Harry's knowledge…
His mother had indeed been weak enough to use the potion to entice his father but, as he had observed from the memories of the man himself, it didn't happen due to something revolting, like infatuation. Merope had been calculating and had trapped the elder Riddle, using potions and even the Imperious, to get away from her wretched, painful, intolerable, life…
Tom could honestly respect his mother for that. She had used considerable cunning and every single one of her talents, from parseltongue to potions and casting, all to bend his father to her will. However it was her actions afterwards, once she managed to convince him to leave with her to London and marry her, which erased completely any of said respect for her achievement.
It was one thing to do something to survive and even prosper but she did the unthinkable and fell for her own lies. Tom had grown frankly sick as he perused the memories and saw his mother grew more infatuated and pathetic the more days and months she spent with his father.
A kinder person may have found this inevitable as his father treated her far better that she was almost certainly used to, (ironically like if she was his whole life) but Tom wasn't such a person and merely found it pathetic and/or moronic.
His father was as much of a surprise too. He was still a filthy muggle and not even a half-decent human being. (Harry's words not his.) But he had still enough willpower in his soul that he eventually managed to beat the imperious.

Additionally, he had the consummating acting skills (when he started resisting) to behave at the exact same manner towards Merope.
His mother in turn used the Unforgivable more and more in the five months she stayed with him.

(Perhaps she suffered from the purported allergy the potion is said to cause in some pregnant women but that was only conjecture from his part not known fact.)
Still, Tom couldn't find in himself any kind of respect for those talents either, as his father proved to be an even worse bloody coward than he already expected, less than a slug really.
For when Tom Riddle Sr. was sure of himself and took action, breaking Merope's wand, not only running away as fast he could, even though he already knew that his wife was pregnant, (Tom wasn't even going to try recalling how attentive and caring he had been in the previous two months because of said pregnancy) but when he reached his home he didn't even have the guts to continue with his life, confining himself to his house and barely leaving it, until he himself came to face him.
Well, he had sent an investigator to find out the fate of his wife and son after some years, but the news weren't enough to make him overcome his terror and he had never approached him although he had found his location.
Tom had been very happy and obliging to realise the worse of his fears.}

No matter how much he tried to Tom wasn't able to shake the thought that he wasn't much better than his mother. The fact that he broke and claimed Harry before the right time indicated of this. He still had no proof whatsoever that his partner would have chosen him that way at all in his right mind.
Even the whole mess he had created could have been Harry's subconscious way to break the dependency hold he had on him. Tom was neither paranoid nor overdramatic here; his cautious nature had been plaguing him with doubts ever since he awoke to Harry's kisses that first morning.
Nothing truly could break the hold they had to each other, the mere fact that he was still considering this proved it, but maybe his earlier deduction that it was healthier to keep it at a platonic distance was the right one after all.

(He couldn't help the self note that, interesting enough, said decision had been taken after a summer visit at a specific country manor.)
Still, dark humour and self awareness aside, everything he knew about Harry insisted that his partner wouldn't have made that mistake if they weren't together. That, even though he would have wanted to protect his friends no matter what, he would have kept his head at the circumstances.
Something inside Tom softened marginally with this thought, Harry both held on to him and fought him giving everything he had, and he allowed himself to recall Harry's apology, it still bothered him for some reason.
The memory would have been an instant one, even without being recent and his total recall, as it was literally burned into his mind:

Harry had been both earnest and passionate to set things right between them but it wasn't that, it was his eyes.
Tom's lips tightened with the realisation that in the end of that talk Harry looked very much like the memory of his mother as she was deserted, like his whole world was crumbling around him, but that couldn't be right either.
He had watched Harry carefully all those days and it hadn't dawned to him yet the cost of his vows, (not just the ones between them but the more broad ones) was set to affect his entire life.

It still hadn't.
Harry's despair was only due to him, nothing else. Maybe he was mistaken in thinking he was less affected than he was. It definitely was reason enough for him to hear again that apology.

He never wanted to have anything in common with his bastard of a father anyway.
He got up, then hesitated again.

While he was in a bit more conciliatory mood Tom was still angry and in need of revenge, maybe he shouldn't see Harry yet until he resolved it some more.
Indeed the consequences of Harry's vows were so monumental for the both of them, especially if he kept him at his side, that he couldn't let it slice even if he wanted to, (he didn't.) But again that didn't mean that it was his Harry the one that had to pay directly.
The more he thought about it the more sense it made. His half Gryffindor may have followed his nature but it certainly wasn't completely innate, someone had raised him that way.
How was it put in that memory? Ah!

"You are also half marked by a human, not destiny, as sacrifice." definitely not so natural.
Maybe he should simply redirect his rage and mete out his punishment to those responsible of eradicating his partner's self-worth and preservation? The thought more than appealed to him but, (and then Tom sighed) there were still problems.
Tom hated it, more like sipping acid hated, but he had to admit that he couldn't, yet, take Dumbledore alone. With Harry's help he bet he could. But while golden boy would snap at him, as it would irritate his sense of fair play to have someone else pay in his place, he had enough against the old man that he could eventually consent.

The problem was that even with this solved they couldn't afford to kill him yet. They needed him to at least attack them first, which he was way too smart to do it in an open way…
He still wasn't ready to desert that train of thought yet…
Well, the abettor was currently untouchable but that didn't mean that the executor of the crime could get away with it. Vernon Dursley was already on his hit list and Tom all but rubbed his hands in glee as he started plotting his exact revenge. From his point of return, to the way he would approach him and, of course, all the tortures he was going to inflict on him, until he eventually allowed him to die.

(Frying him on his very own lard was heavily featured.)
But, even as he plotted, a feeling of disquiet slowly killed his enjoyment and a deeper analysis stopped the course short. Tom barely held back a heavy expletive as he realised that he couldn't kill that piece of filth either, at least not yet.
It wasn't due to any affection that Harry may hold for the bastard, (not that it could have currently stopped him) On the contrary he was almost certain that deep down his partner hated his uncle at least as much as he himself had hated his caretakers on the orphanage.
The problem was that Harry's way to deal (and survive) with any violent (and sometimes just too intense) emotion was to suppress and deny it until the day he could handle it. But he was far from ready yet to do such a thing with his family. His partner hadn't even accepted the fact that he was abused, never mind what he felt about it.
If he killed Vernon and threw it on Harry's face (the half point of the excursion) or even Harry discovered it on his own, then his partner would be forced to face and try to come in terms with everything he suffered and his very own hate, which Tom doubted that he could do it, in his current delicate condition, and remain with his sanity intact.
It would have to happen at least either following the bonding or after forcing some Elixir and the soul piece down Harry's throat.

(He wasn't completely sure that Harry would be ready for such an inner confrontation even after this.)

If Tom was set to completely shatter Harry then he could find far more delicious and entertaining ways to achieve it.
Not that his thirst for revenge had ceased, far from it.

But after a calming breath, to ease his disappointment, he realised that there was still someone suitable for him to lash out, the very instigator and catalyst of the current mess in fact.

Oh, he was going to enjoy dealing with the Drunkard, at least as much as if it were the other bastards.
He would still need to be careful, of course, as the cook was a known figure of sorts, but he was going find some answers tonight and eventually take his bloody revenge. (And it would be a quite intriguing challenge to break the amulet's protections.)
A slow malicious smile started gracing Tom's lips.
If he played his cards right he could do what he willed with the Greek (even go creative) and Harry wouldn't have a leg to stand even if he was foaming with rage. It was his own observation after all that the barleycorn may work for Dumbledore…
Intensely cheered up Tom checked himself to see if he was presentable, in preparation to apparate, and then stopped cold with a displeasured sound.
While his clothes were protected from the rain he couldn't say the same for the magical backslash as were visited with a multiple of stains. The robes in particular were almost in taters and his hair, whilst dry, had started to form ringlets from the humidity. All those were easily fixable of course but, even with the stains and tears gone, he still felt dirty.
He was hardly fit to be seen in public, even if the Cauldron was barely a step above hovel.
Maybe he needed to test someone else first?

A moment of concentration and he apparated in an altogether different place, knocking at the door without hesitation…

Tom expected the house elf and so no immediate problems, but it wasn't Pechen'ye that had opened the door to him but the lady of the house.
"Tom!"

Nadia looked beyond shocked to see him in her door so soon, or even at all, after their last disastrous meeting. However she didn't tell him to leave at once.
"Good evening Madam Kirova, may I come in?" he smiled charmingly.
Nadia continued her impression of a startled cat for a moment more and then snapped out of it and ushered him inside.

"Oh come inside, you glupyy mal'chik, (silly boy) it's chilling outside and raining torrents." she all but dragged him towards the bathroom, thankfully without touching skin.

"You need to clean up."
Tom allowed it as it was exactly what he wanted to do and ignored the adjective.
He enjoyed a luxurious hot shower and when he got out his clothes were washed, pressed and ready. Nadia had offered him dinner too, which he graciously accepted, he wanted to avoid as much time in the Cauldron he could, even as alibi.
The dinner was both delicious and peaceful, (Shchi soup and Pelmeni) as Nadia resumed her no questions policy although he could see that she burned to ask him about him and Harry. She didn't even ask about the late time visit, or his unusual untidiness. She accepted the vague answers that he's given her, although he could tell that she didn't really bought them, not even once attempting to make him feel unwelcome.
Tom was certain that if he had come here covered in blood and entails and asked her to cover for him she was going to comply. He could even move into this house the next day and she still wasn't going to complain about it, he would be welcome, even if she was worried about him.

He could trust her to an extent.
Even if he set the time spell here (as he had planned) or even brought back Vernon, to work at his leisure, she still wouldn't call the Aurors to him and maybe even help him if he explained his reasons.

She was beyond useful and he was starting to reconsider his resolution to kill her.
Still, it obviously cost her to keep her nose out if his business and he decided to throw her a bone as she was escorting him to the floo.

"We may come to visit you after the New Year." he didn't need more elaboration on which He it was.
Her delighted smile showed that she understood.

"I will be happy to have you, both of you." she answered immediately.

He wasn't going to have any problems with her from now on.
Who knows, if golden boy didn't drove him crazy until then, he may keep his promise after all.
"Be careful." were her farewell words.
Well some things didn't change no matter what…

Tom, although he scoffed inside, just smiled charmingly and said that he would.

The pub wasn't completely packed tonight but it was still unpleasantly full. Still it left him with a selection of choices and Tom chose his table with care, not completely at a shadowy corner, to not look suspicious, but not exposed to everyone else either.
It only took a couple minutes for the waitress to approach him and when she did Tom's smirk/smile was almost real inside his cowl with the easiness that things were falling to their place.
"What can I bring you, sir?" Sybil Trelawney asked him shyly but trying to sound professional, (trying, be the adverb here.)

But the sir had a surprised and almost flirty accent as she recognised him.
Tom allowed himself to smile as he returned the examination with his full intensity, the girl blushed scarlet.

"Scotch eggs and a glass of red wine." he ordered and then appeared to be considering.

"You are Sybil Trelawney aren't you, the fifth year Gryffindor?"
"You know me?" little Trelawney sounded incredulous and almost faint, her blushing approaching epic proportions.
Tom kept the warm tone with practised ease.

"I do, I have noticed you at school and asked for your name."
Trelawney ate it up.

She seemed to stop breathing for a couple moments and regarded him completely star-struck. (It didn't do well with her ugly hyperopic glasses.)

You have?" she asked him awed, while her fingers played with her long ratty plait, a nervous and unconsciously receptive move. (The faster conquest he had made in his life!)
Harry's information was more than correct.
Tom scoffed inside with her idiocy. Like hell he could meant it.

Even if he held even a trace of attraction to girls he wouldn't have looked at her that way. Excruciatingly thin as she was and with absolutely no chest, (looking all of fourteen years old) not to mention that face, glasses (an inch thick not tolerable like Harry's) and that hair.

Really the kindest thing one could have compared her was a grasshopper.
…That was only her appearance though, her pea sized brain didn't add much at all. He honestly had no idea why gramps had allowed to that bug to dictate his life with her hogwash, probably further proof of his deterioration…
Thankfully he didn't have to suffer her company a moment's more. The cook's for once silky (still kind of asinine) voice interrupted the supposed idyll.

"Sybil, see to the other clients and the kitchen, I'll take it from here." he looked rather murderous as he said those and his tone held no argument.
Trelawney looked very ashamed to this and a tiny bit angry but obeyed at once.

"Yes Mantho."
With the girl gone the lethal intent left the other's face, even if the animosity remained, and they exchanged glares in a battle of wills. Finally Aggelakis lowered his eyes first and procured a dusty wine bottle with a couple shot glasses.
"Here, enchanted Raki, the drink of men." an offer of temporary truce.
Tom smiled to the other, a very frosty smile, (but one that could successfully hide the extent of his own hate) and examined swiftly the bottle. Seeing it wasn't tempered in any way he opened it and repeated the process with the contents, just to be sure, it came clear again.
"Thank you."
Truce accepted, the Greek sat at Tom's opposite, levitated the bottle to serve them, and raised some wards.

"I expected you for days, I owe you an explanation to the very least." he didn't seem regretful to the slightest, nor elaborate.
"That you do." Tom allowed and added his own wards, waiting for the other to speak.
It still didn't happen. Aggelakis waited a bit with a small smirk (withstanding his glare) and then toasted him.

Tom barely wetted his lips with the drink to keep the traditions. Strong stuff! He could definitely appreciate such a drink but not here and now, he preferred his wits.
The Greek started to speak then.

"What I did, what I asked for, to that boy. No, that man, is unforgivable. Ο Θεός να με συγχωρέσει. (May God forgive me.)

If I had known beforehand what it has been done to him I wouldn't have done it." he took a generous drink.
Tom's magic flared and he used all his control to not shred the other to pieces.

"You feel up the need to apologise do it to Harry, stop wasting my time."
The other's shoulders sagged and he appeared tired and older.

"He won't accept it; he'll state that it was his decision to make."
That was true enough, Tom gave the barest nod, but he wasn't going to leave it without a strike.

"Ακόμα και αν ο Χάρι δέχονταν την απολογία σου ο Θεός ο ίδιος δε θα το έκανε. (Even if Harry himself accepted that apology your God wouldn't have." he said almost pleasantly.
Aggelakis froze.
Tom enjoyed the Greek's shock; this was only beginning of his revenge for all the times the Drunkard had muttered something uncouth or offensive and he had hidden his reaction to not betray his advantage of knowing the other's language.
{He had started rather young really, he was only a second year, and already bored out of his mind with the unchallenging curriculum, when he discovered a virtual treasure: a library within the library of Greek scrolls and manuscripts. It wasn't that surprising truly; Latin wasn't the only one of the spiritual languages and when Hogwarts was build there were over four hundred years until the Byzantine Empire fell on the Ottoman Turks.
It had become his favourite pastime and he had included other languages over the years, not so much the European ones, (although he studied them as well) as they were easily related to each other and still kept the major spells in Latin, but Arabic and the Asian ones.
He intended to fully devote into Chinese and Japanese at his fifth year but then he had met Harry and the avalanche had started, he never had the same free time again. Oh, the project was never abandoned; he was merely progressing slower this time.}
Tom had only half of his attention to the Greek but he missed not a bare second of his spluttering. However it was enraging that while the bastard finally got humiliated it still wasn't enough to humble him.
Even now he just looked at him, not backing down an inch.

"Δε σε συμπαθώ Ριντλ, αλλά χρωσταώ και σε σένα μια απολογία. (I don't like you Riddle, but I owe you an apology too.)" now that it was apparent he was busted the Greek turned it to his language.

"Είσαι αλαζόνας, φαντασμένος, ανήλεος, δόλιος και περιφρονείς όλους όσους θεωρείς κατωτέρους σου, δηλαδή όλο τον κόσμο.

(You are arrogant, conceited, merciless, deceitful, and you look underneath your nose at everyone you consider beneath you, meaning the entire world.)" he took another drink.

"Αλλά σε αδίκησα, ο τρόπος που επέλεξα να σε αντιμετωπίσω δεν ήταν αντρίκιος. (But I wronged you, the way I chose to deal with you wasn't one befitting men." he stopped.
Tom had to take a drink too.

This was the first time someone laid it to him like that, completely without feeling and recognizing what he was, not even Dumbledore had ever told him what he thought about him right to his face.

Harry shouted at him frequently enough but never all those together and there were certain things lessening the impact. One: he had come from the future, so he hadn't found it by himself and Two: he chose to stay with him in spite of it, so it just made it more thrilling.
Oh he was going too eventually kill the presumptuous Greek bastard, of that he had no doubt; he just needed a moment to regroup, he steepled his hands.
"Ενδιαφέρον λογύδριο, απλά δεν πολυκαταλαβαίνω το νόημα του. (Intriguing little speech I just don't really understand your point.) Υποθέτοντας ότι είμαι ότι ανέφερες ή υπονόησες ποτέ, (Assuming that I am everything you say or have ever implied,)" it was still inadvisable to admit anything outright, to the very least for other legilimens'.

"Έχει πραγματική σημασία η μέθοδος χειρισμού; (Does the dealing method really counts?)" he was partly curious; the other was fixed in a point in the middle of his nose, but he was a strong enough Occlumens that Tom couldn't force his way inside without direct contact.
Aggelakis laughed harshly.

"Υποθέτω ότι δεν θα μπορούσες να καταλάβεις, αμφιβάλλω ότι θεωρείς παράγοντα το ότι είσαι στην ηλικία που θα ήταν ο μακαρίτης ο γιος μου.

I suppose that you wouldn't get it, I doubt that you'll ever consider it as factor that you are my late son's age."
Tom sneered.

"Δύσκολα, περισσότερο ότι δεν είσαι σε θέση να επικρατήσεις. (Hardly, more like that wouldn't you be able to take me)." he wasn't even boasting here.
But he definitely wouldn't mind making him share the wretched fate of the worthless worm that had sired him, if the bastard wasn't resourceful enough to be able to get on even with that.
Aggelakis sneered right back.

"Είναι αλήθεια, δεν μπορώ να σε φτάσω σε ωμή δύναμη, αλλά αν ήθελα να πεθάνεις θα σε είχα δηλητηριάσει το προηγούμενο καλοκαίρι, ακόμα και συ δεν ήσουν προσεκτικός όλες τις μέρες. (True enough, I can't match you on raw power, but if I wanted you dead I would have poisoned you the previous summer, you weren't careful all the time.)"
Tom snorted.

On the contrary he was always careful at any setting or circumstances, (with Harry a possible exception) but if the brain-fart didn't stop prattling about how noble he was for dirty means and explained then he was going to summon the other's own knifes and cut him in pieces the patrons be damned.
Something of his thoughts must have apparent to the other for he started to speak a bit more hurriedly.

"Το Εννοώ, (I mean it;)" he allowed their eyes to meet for a bare moment.
"Έχω εργαστεί για επτά χρόνια στο ΔΣΜ, (I've worked for seven years in the ICW,) και ήξερα από την πρώτη μάχη, ακριβώς αυτό που είσαι: (and I knew ever since the first battle, exactly what you are:) από επίπεδα ισχύος στην εντελώς αποστασιοποιημένη ιδιοσυγκρασία. (from power levels to completely detached disposition.)
Δε διαφέρεις ιδιαίτερα απ' το Γκρίντελβαλντ και δεν θα είχες σηκώσει ένα δάχτυλο για να βοηθήσεις αυτούς που πέθαιναν, (You aren't that different from Grindelwald and wouldn't have lifted a finger to help those dying,) αν ο Χάρι δεν είχε ριχτεί στη μάχη, (if Harry hadn't thrown himself in the battle,) αλλά το έκανες γι'αυτόν όποτε ίσως κάνω λάθος. (but you did for him so maybe I'm wrong.)" he still looked doubting.
Tom had seen and heard enough.

"Κατάλαβα, (Oh I see,) επέλεξες αντίθετα να δέσεις το Χάρι στο άρμα σου ώστε να κάνει αυτός τη βρομοδουλειά σου με το Γκρίντελβαλντ (so you choose instead to rope Harry into doing your dirty work with Grindelwald) ακόμα και να τον αναγκάσεις να ακολουθήσει το όραμα σου για το υπόλοιπο της ζωής του, (and even force him to follow your light vision for the rest of his life,) Χρησιμοποιώντας τη φιλία του καθώς και την ανάγκη του για την κληρονομιά της οικογένειάς σου για να το πετύχεις. (using his friendship and the need for your family heritage to accomplish it.)

Καλοπαιγμένο, κύριε, πολύ καλοπαιγμένο! (Well played sir, well played)." he started to rise, intending to break the truce and its restrains.
Even with Dumbledore not once getting into the picture it was still case closed for Tom. There was no debt whatsoever.

It was too public to deal with Aggelakis right now but the next time they'll meet alone he was dead.
Aggelakis did the same looking furious.

"Περίμενε μια στιγμή παιδί, δεν ξέρεις τα πάντα, κάθε άλλο. (Wait a moment kid; you don't know everything, far from it.) Θέλεις να κρίνεις, θα ακούσεις τα πάντα. (You want to judge you'll hear everything.)"
Tom ignored the address.

"Πες μου τα τότε. (Tell me then.)" Oh he still had every intention to kill him but there were certain grey areas in Aggelakis' mind that he hadn't been able to touch and he wanted the information.
The Greek looked grey and old as he sighed heavily and fell back on his seat.

"Δεν σου τα είπα όλα πριν. (I haven't told you everything before.) Ναι, σιγουρεύτηκα για σένα στη μάχη, (Yes, I've became sure about you in the battle,) αλλά δεν ήταν μόνο η εμπειρία μου στο ΔΣΜ που με οδήγησε σε αυτό, (but it wasn't only my experience in the ICW that led me to it,) έχω κληρονομήσει και κάτι από την άυλη οικογενειακή κατάρα επίσης. (I have inherited something of the intangible family heritage/curse too.)"
Tom couldn't help himself he leaned forward.

"Πες μου. (Tell me.)" alright there was something of the sucker Voldemort still living inside him.
Aggelakis didn't look gloating, not even guilty pleased, about his win, just determined.

"Δεν είμαι προφήτης, (I'm not an oracle), ούτε καν μάντης, (not even a seer,) έχω μόνο την άτυχη τάση να ονειρεύομαι αληθινά. (I just have the unlucky penchant to dream true.)"
Tom raised an eyebrow.
Aggelakis continued, looking grave.

"Από τότε που πρωτοσυνάντησα εσάς τους δύο ονειρεύομαι θάνατο και καταστροφές, (Ever since I've met you two I have been dreaming of death and destruction,) τα όνειρα ποικίλλουν ωστόσο, (it varies though.) Μερικές φορές ανέρχεσαι μονός και γίνεσαι πολύ χειρότερος από τον Γκρίντελβαλντ. (Sometimes you rise alone and become far worse than Grindelwald.)

"Άλλες είναι ο Χάρι, ξυπνώντας διπλά στο πτώμα σου, (Others it's Harry, waking besides your dead body,) τρελαίνεται και σκοτώνει ότι κινείται (he goes crazy and kills everything that's moves)." he didn't have to say any more.
Tom believed him, not only because he could recognize parts of Voldemort's rise, or that the second memory was a literately alternate ending to when he had almost lost Harry, but because what he saw in the other's mind had the clearness of a vision. This wasn't Harry's most painful memory, aided by his worse fears and reconstructed by Aggelakis to deluge him, it was real, he could tell.
"Συνέχισε. (Continue.)" he ordered.
The other did.

"Δεν είναι η χειρότερη περίπτωση, (It's not the worst case by far.) Κατά τις πρώτες περιπτώσεις που εγείρεστε χωριστά κάποιος σας νικάει τελικά. (In the first ones, when you rise separately someone eventually takes you out.)

Αλλά σε αυτές που τρελαίνεστε μαζί τίποτα δεν μπορεί να σώσει τον κόσμο από εσάς τους δύο, (but in those you get crazy together nothing can save the world from you two,) και η Γη μας τελικά καταλήγει σε μια νεκρή ερημιά, ποτέ να συνέρθει. (and our Earth eventually ends up a wasteland with nothing alive, never to recover.)"
Tom couldn't say there wasn't something seductive with the latest vision. There was absolutely no constriction, not rules binding their behaviour, the entire world was their playground and they were Gods.
Harry was magnificent there, like Death incarnate, as they competed. Laughing so delighted and carefree as Tom immolated a continent just to impress him.
He could honesty admit to himself that he would have liked to meet that Harry, even to have him just once, but not keep him; It wasn't only due to the bitter knowledge that his Harry would have preferred to be erased from the entire plane of existence: body mind and soul, not just dead, to avoid such a fate they were facing.
Tom didn't want that.-
It wasn't due to any pity he felt for the masses, never mind compassion. Ants they looked compared to him there, like ants they mattered inside his mind. But what he seemed to have become, what both became, was a very different matter.
What had become of his enormous intelligence, his discipline and logic? Everything he had been prided on and working at in his entire life?

Gone!

Where were even some small challenges?

Gone!

Like savage beasts they were, (like an act of God too) barely intelligent, like Rubeus Hagrid, even the Abomination had more meaning.
HE DIDN'T WANT THAT!
The sound and feeling of a glass breaking and embedding in his hand broken his shock, somehow; he vanished the shards from his palm wandlessly, like reflex, and finally became aware of the voice speaking.
"…it doesn't have to be that way, παλικάρι μου, (lad) I only see possibilities, and I have seen positive futures too. You are together in all of them and definitely not insignificant in the state of things…" Aggelakis had switched it back to English trying to get a response and was awkwardly patting his shoulder.
Tom sent him a mere glance and he flinched.

"Take your hand away." he ordered without inflection and almost silently.
Aggelakis did so at once, almost looking ashamed with his reaction.

He covered it by returning immediately to the previous point, almost spiting things out.
"Now you understand, you think I wanted to do what I did to Harry…One of my very few true friends in this Godforsaken country? I would have helped him just for the promise to look after Sybil… I only did it to ensure one of the good futures, even if you ended killing each other it would have been a better possibility for the world and Harry…" and so forth.
Tom nearly rolled his eyes.

What was with Light busybodies trying to manipulate the future at their tastes? That one was giving Dumbledore a run for his money…and golden boy dared to complain about his manipulative and despotic streak…

He asked only a single thing:

"What's makes you so sure that you didn't just insured the future you fear with the cause and effect basis? Just a possibility" but it was a doozy.
He leaned a tiny bit to his chair with a chilling smile and enjoyed the other's spluttering reaction. That was far more likeable!
Finally Aggelakis got his wits back enough to offer a coherent reaction. "It can't be, Harry is bound by oaths against it."
Tom's smile was chilliest than the artic.

"Oh but it can, Harry is the oath bound not me, I could just petrify him for however is needed and do the job myself, When everything was over and everybody was dead, or faithful ones, I awoke him. Harry's sanity won't hold to such a blow of course and with none tormented or subjugated, no oath, hence the future." he felt rather better really.
Aggelakis trembled like a leaf and grabbed his arm (and the wand inside his sleeve) ready to cast something deadly.

Tom had no fear that he could succeed, (his own amulet protected him,) but even if he could goad him to an attack and so to spend few weeks in a holding cell or Azkaban, it could still expose his name, not to mention that he was way over tired for such a mess tonight.
"Don't worry about it I won't do that, I prefer him healthy."
The Greek sent him a gimlet stare but it only amused Tom more.

"I will be taking my leave of you, goodnight."
The funny part was that he had managed to take the first part of his revenge too. While Aggelakis had been raving Tom had used the time to analyse the other's amulets.

His mother's was obvious the weaker one but he had no influence at all to it and it blocked whatever control he may have at Harry's, but he had found a way. He may need a huge extend of power to overwhelm them, something definitely not public, but if he extended his power subtly something could be done.
Aggelakis had currently dodged the Imperious or an Avada but Tom had subtly inflamed all the health problems the Greek had, including the start of arthritis, he had heard Dippet mentioning once that arthritis could be compared with a constant, slow, low powered, Cruciatus, he couldn't wait to find out if that was true.
That will teach the Drunkard to get between him and Harry.
Still as he reached the end of their magical bubble and before breaking it he couldn't help a last shot.

"You are aware of course that when you entrusted Sybil to Harry you entrusted her to me as well?" Aggelakis' face was priceless.
If Tom didn't consider it undignified he would have been laughing in all his way out the tavern.

Time to finally find his half lion half snake.

Harry's pov
The tepid water whipped Harry's face and body but he hardly fell the pressure or the sometimes sting in his eyes. His mind was busy trying to find a solution, any solution, to fix his mistakes but he really couldn't. He was trapped.
He had lost Tom!
He had spent the entire evening and later hours buried in research and refusing to acknowledge what had transpired but, now that was approaching eleven o clock and Tom still hadn't return, he had to face that his friend/partner had left him, in all probability forever.
He had lost Tom forever!
Harry had seen the final look in his eyes as he left (he had thought that he already knew Tom's indifferent look but he was grievously mistaken) and, no matter how much he wanted to deny it, it was apparent that his partner had already taken his decision and they were over. He was probably going to spend the night at the Cauldron (Salazar he hoped not) or Nadia's house and just order one the guys to collect his trunk for him tomorrow. Or, if he bothered to do it himself, it was going to be just a calculated courtesy towards Dorea.
It wouldn't do to utterly insult his Light allies after all, he was even going to let him live merely for that reason.
Harry's fists tightened in indignation and despair but, no matter how much he itched to find him and bloody that flawless face, deep down he knew that he couldn't blame him for either action or attitude. It wasn't his friend that had changed ever since they became involved it was him.
He had had tried to convince himself all these days 'that their attempt for a relationship was doomed from the start' but he couldn't manage it, he knew Tom better than this. How many times had he swayed him his way by using cunning and persuasion, nothing else? If only he had acted like a logical human being instead of an idiot, forcing even the smallest issue had usually explosive conclusions and this…
An emotional ultimatum really..? Was he brain-dead or something?
How could he blame him when even today the only apology he could come up with was the same old and (never sure that he could keep it) much-repeated promise that he would try to think before acting, no wonder the other had got fed up with him.

…Actually he was really surprised that Tom had given these three days in consideration after everything…
In all probability that calculated answer he had been given today was most likely the remains of Tom's need (or habit) to keep him alive the last years, he couldn't really blame him even for this.

How many people wouldn't get bored and detach repeating the same thing again and again, never mind a psychopath?
Seeing him die or almost dying over and over logically had the same effect on Tom.
Harry had done everything in his power (consciously and unconsciously) to sabotage their relationship, why had he done such a thing? If it was a struggle to get rid of the other's dominance he could accept it on himself, maybe even forgive it in time, but it wasn't.
Tom wasn't more authoritative, demanding, or manipulative as his lover rather than best friend. In everything that counted they were exactly the same except some moments of rare tenderness, a bit more openness, and sexual intimacy. Harry hated neither of those (if he was honest with himself he treasured them) and if pressured he could sincerely admit that those days he was together with Tom were the happiest ones of his life.
(Even in this moment, alone, sealed within himself, he couldn't bear to linger at those days.)
Why had he destroyed that happiness then? Was he so afraid to be happy?
He couldn't find an answer to this except that Tom was right and he was a masochist. (If only it was the easy kind and he just enjoyed a bit of pain with his pleasure) There was no other explanation for the situation he found himself.
It was time to face that as well, he couldn't afford not to do it.
Harry still wasn't regretting the protection he had afforded to his friends and he never would, but the raw fact remained that he had destroyed himself in the process.

The end of his relationship/friendship with Tom was merely the start. Even if Grindelwald didn't kill him, the future that awaited him was still bleak.
His life was over if he was honest, what awaited him now was merely to exist. Harry had to leave his friends and family behind to not endanger them, making sure to not make more for the same reason. To face dark lord after dark lord until one killed him, if the madness didn't caught up with him first, making him too dangerous to be around.

To exist for nothing but to hold those oaths.
He couldn't help an intense shudder of revulsion.
This life embodied everything he had hated in living his life as 'the boy who lived' a hundred times over and he had volunteered for it with both feet. No wonder that Tom had dropped him, he was smarter than this. But it was his choice and he was going to live with it no matter what.
If only he could avoid the madness at least. But he wasn't going to condemn Tom to save himself; he cared too much for it. (And respected himself at least that much.)
He couldn't really find a silver lining in any of those, even his research had gone for nothing.
Oh, he had found the ritual and he could do it, the problem was that one of the components was sexual intimacy, preferably fresh, and from what he had gathered from the insinuation on the text that meant going all the way not merely fooling around.
So unless he was mistaken, and by Salazar he hoped so, the only hope he had to put himself and Tom out of the game (if need be) had just immolated.
He rested his forehead in the cold tile.

Tom's pov
Tom apparated inside the Potter manor easy like always. Still he didn't miss the tiny fresh ward and so wasn't surprised to find the lady of the house waiting for him at the family floor.
"Welcome back, Tom."
Dorea had played it the perfect hostess so far and had even accepted his interference inside her house but he knew she was neither pliant nor easygoing as she appeared. Tom in turn had been somewhat relaxed with his masks too, but that didn't mean that he was going to become sloppy with his manners as well.
He took a half contrite expression.
"Good evening, Lady Dorea, I apologise for my lateness, I'll try not happen again." he smiled, playing it sheepish.
She smiled back.

"It's alright, Tom, and its Dorea remember."
He relaxed his stance.

"I do. Good night, Dorea."
"Good night Tom."
They turned, each to their respectable room, but Tom had taken the message loud and clear:
'So long he treated Harry right Dorea would consider him family but if he ever irrevocably hurt him (never mind kill) then he should be careful at what he ate for the rest of his life.'
He took the matter very seriously, noting to self to kill her too if he decided to kill Harry.
The room was empty but Tom could lightly sense Harry at the bathroom so he got rid of his shoes, tie, and robe, making himself more comfortable, as he waited.

Still his patience lasted only five minutes or so and he started tapping on the link to make him hurry.
Harry was so closed inside himself that he didn't even noticed and Tom started to dig dipper.

The enormous well of anguish and despair that he found alarmed him as it reminded him, all too well, both the previous crisis and his morbid prediction that Harry would prefer to die than live with the madness.

He had to investigate at once. The idiot could be opening his very veins right this moment.
This time he didn't bothered with courtesies at all. Nice was for other people.
Harry was thankfully proved alright and ready to murder him if he judged by the look in his eyes. But it was exactly those eyes that caught his breath as he realised how reddish and swollen they were.
Harry could excuse it to the shower if he wanted but Tom finally knew how much his breaking up had hurt the other. His idiotic partner didn't just break by nearly anything.
Said partner covered things at once, of course, and had a smart quip ready for him. But, just this occasion, Tom's attention was diverted and he allowed himself to notice other things than merely his lover's sharp mind.
Tom admired everything he saw, from the economical and pleasantly put clean lines, the, thankfully spare, hair on his chest and treasure trail, (much denser downwards) his proud stance, the, for once, heavy and so half-tamed dark hair and those stunning eyes.
Harry had filled out nicely in all those years. There were hints of the waif he had been, as he was still relatively short and there was absolutely nothing excess on him, just tendons and lean hard muscle. But it was fitting him oh so fitting!
His partner looked dangerous like a lean wolf, was dangerous, like the true warrior he was. Only one thing was missing from his body to look perfect and Tom found himself longing to fix that.

Harry's pov
It was at the moment that Harry allowed himself to mourn everything he had lost (current and new) that the curtain of his shower was violently pulled, almost ripped from its hinges.
He didn't even need to turn to know it was Tom.
He smiled mirthlessly.

"What, you decided to act out that scene from Psycho?"
Tom didn't even bother with an answer; he was immersed in appraising hungrily his form and didn't seem to perceive anything else. His predatory stepping into the shower, as he was with his clothes, had destroyed any illusions for his intentions that Harry may have.
Harry, despite the heavy lump logged in his throat, used that bare instant to think. He knew Tom all too well and he could bet that his apparent amorous intentions had nothing to do with reconciliation and everything, now that they were over, with ridding himself of the carnal part of his obsession.

He had no intention to stop at foreplay anymore.
He knew that it was decision time. Harry could follow with his actual impulse and bust Tom's face, or he could give in and gain that advantage he was aiming, any chance for the bonding was lost anyway.
Still, even at the moment that Tom pulled him against him and he fought him briefly for appearance's sake, he knew that, while his calculated surrender had a taste of defeat, he would have given in anyway.

If that was his last time with Tom he wanted it.

Tom's pov
Tom managed to trap Harry against the tiles for all his slipperiness (and a few uncouth kicks since he immobilised his arms.) Still, for all his resistance (but no vocal, or in the link, protests) he didn't denied him his kisses (he definitely didn't mind a few bites, it just reminded him of their first time) and it didn't take all that long to have him moan against his lips with Harry's hands buried in his hair.
Even that compliance wasn't enough for Tom.

He wanted to hear more of those moans, and at an even more intense volume and depth, to make Harry totally melt in his arms, losing any and all thoughts to resist.

His idiot was entirely his and was going to stay that way, no matter what harebrained things he did to fight it. Later he may come to express this verbally, if he felt like it, now it was time for him to prove it.
His hand closing around Harry's hardness and teasing him to frenzy seemed to have the desired effect and he shuddered in reflected pleasure and pride as he felt him coming apart in his hands. The offered tempting neck was an added bonus and he gladly set to feast and mark it to his heart's content.
But his Harry never surrendered completely no matter what.

Soon his hands were fighting with his shirt for a chance to do his own kissing and touching.

He didn't have much of a success.

Now whether his lover was clumsy from passion or the buttonholes were just too tight on the soaked cloth mattered none; Harry didn't have the patience to work for it. A sharp tug and the shirt was opened, with all the buttons broken away in the progress.
Tom, quite naturally, wasn't happy with this, (the shot of intensified arousal notwithstanding.) It was Harry's turn to draw his head down and mute his complain with his lips and it wasn't long until he migrated to his neck and the recently freed territories.
It was only when those hands started playing with the zip of his trousers and the hidden bulge that Tom's eyes flashed and he decided that enough was enough.

If Harry couldn't stand to just accept things, for once, then he could certainly do something more challenging. He owed him an apology after all and he remembered clearly a previous apology given in comparative terms, although innocently intended.
His hands closed none too gently on Harry's shoulders and he pressured down nearly but not quite harshly.

Harry obviously resisted once again.
"What?" he sounded pissed, although Tom recognised the hidden nerves.
He smiled, it wasn't sweet.

"Why darling, I'm owed an apology and you appear already interested in the area, considering that your verbal skills are lacking anyway…"
Putting it like that had Harry at a loss and blushing like a tomato.

Tom was honestly surprised that he had blood spared to maintain an erection, but the aforementioned delightful anatomy didn't seem to suffer, oh on the contrary…
Still the embarrassment didn't last on his Harry, his eyes narrowed to slits and he had the answer ready.

"Really, as far I remember the apology was given and you denied it."
Tom wasn't going to reflect on that emotional moment, he smirked.

"What can I say, I prefer payment in kind, but if you are uncomfortable…" he let it hang.
The embarrassment returned on Harry ten times over, he momentarily looked down.

"Tom, I…" he stopped.
Tom didn't need translation even if they didn't share that link.

Of course Harry hadn't done it before, even if he had been interested beforehand, which he hadn't, Tom would have crucied to death anyone daring to think it, never mind asking.
He stroked softly Harry's lips.

"Only if you want it, now and always the choice is yours."
Something soft and wicked passed Harry's eyes and he smiled at him in that familiar the devil may care way.

"Salazar may help you, then." with those words he fell gracefully on one knee.
One more button was sacrificed again but this time Tom didn't have the breath, never mind wits, to complain about it.

Harry's pov
Harry was trembling by tension but it wasn't shown in his face as he knelt down. He honestly had no idea how to go about this but it wasn't going to stop him. It wasn't because he believed that Tom was going to forgive his mistakes if he did it, on the contrary he was going to be very cross if it was the case.
Tom had put him through the wringer but if he decided to keep him cause of sexual favours it would be alike adding insult to injury.

…There was oversimplifying their relationship and there was literally spiting on it…

Still Harry wasn't going to back down to this for various reasons.
One of them was the simple fact that he wanted it.

Ever since his sexuality had awoken with a bang he had been longing to take his time and taste Tom everywhere. (Well he longed for other things too but they didn't count at present) The root of his lover's desire was definitely not the exception to this.

He was bashful but not repulsed, indisputably not repulsed.
The other part urging him on was that Tom had challenged him to it and he wasn't going to back down, not ever.

Oh the bastard definitely didn't deserve it and he had a feeling that he was going to get a very different response in reversed tables, but after the things he had met head on it seemed a fairly ridiculous thing to balk.
Still doing it was very different than thinking about it and as he opened Tom's pants, shoving them aside, he felt a very real tremor of desire. He had felt Tom's hardness against his body before, even held it, but never like this, so self consciously. This time he wasn't too overwhelmed to pay attention.
He could feel the hot-steely flesh quivering in his hands as he got closer and that quiver transferred and in the rest of the body as his lips closed around the silken head. For a moment he felt something like disorientation as he forgot to breathe and he had to tilt his head back for a couple seconds.
He expected to see a superior smirk to the other's face but to his utter surprise was anything but. They were rare (not even counted in one hand) the times he had seen such an open expression at Tom's face, it wasn't a trick either, their link was resonating with the intensity of the feelings.
Harry closed his eyes and, returning to his tender exploration, got lost in the taste, sound, and smell. He even tried to take him deeper but his breath was again cut and he retreated. This got him Tom's hands entangled in his hair. It was almost unpleasantly painful and he expected him to force him to take him again deeper but, much to his surprise, he just held for dear life.
Harry moaned with the rush of power and the intense arousal that came with it. He was entirely sure that his lover had starred this as a dominance game but it had been toppled. Tom may sent him away afterwards, could even belittle him, but now, right this minute, he was entirely his, body mind and soul.

He never wanted that moment to end.
But ended it did, Tom didn't last too long after that, just four or five small thrusts, and his mouth was full with salty and bitter sperm. There was nothing particularly pleasant about this, (it was faintly reminiscent of the things the Dursleys voluntarily fed him) but he would gladly abide with said taste, again and again, for the feeling of ownership it was giving him.
On the other hand Harry was also frustrated, to the point of near screaming, or murdering. He had been just about there too, but the utter filthy bastard chose literally the last moment to retry in himself, cutting him out for the very first time, he hated him.

Tom's pov
Tom was loosing it, there wasn't another description.

He was leaning against the wall, trying to get back his breath and mind, but he wasn't sure he could manage either.
He had started this as a means to get back some of the power that Harry had over him. (What else would you call his contemplation to forgive him literally anything and always reconsidering leaving him behind?)
But how the bloody hell was he to anticipate this?

In his whole life, both at Hogwarts and the orphanage, he had heard descriptions of the act (and even glimpsed thoughts about it) as something crude and demoting. He had cut such talks the moment he got power, of course, as he found the topic both plebeian and disinteresting, but the impression had stayed.

The pose in itself was a submissive one for Salazar's sake!
Yet he couldn't have been more mistaken; his whole existence got shaken with this!
It wasn't just the unbearable pleasure, nearly as immense in intensity as their joined one at the first time, or the deadly sweetness that sapped entirely his control and had gotten him on such a state.
He still wasn't sure what it had done it, or even what it was. Only that it was embodied at Harry's look, as he was doing it, and that it had turned his world upside down.
He knew that Harry was angry with him, to the point of wanting to hit him, and yet he loved him, wanted him, enough even now that he took pleasure by giving him pleasure. It was that intensity that he couldn't stand anymore and had reflexively closed off. He didn't think he could stand it in its completeness.
A wave of neediness hit him and the sound of flesh to flesh drew him to the real world. Harry. His partner was searching for the release he had denied him.
Tom couldn't stand even that, for Harry to finish alone after everything. He needed tangible proof that such intensity could happen, as even now the earthquake was fading from his senses, becoming merely a memory and he needed, Salazar he needed, to have the same devastating effect on his Harry as he had on him.
He didn't even need to think on how to go about it.

Harry's pov
Harry didn't manage to find relief by himself, Tom didn't let him. A sudden sharp pull to his arm and he was in Tom's arms, kissed until he was sure he was dying.
Tom didn't seem to have gotten back on earth yet, totally engrossed as he was to thoroughly plunder his mouth, like as if wanting to immerse himself in his very own taste.
It wasn't the only thing that was driving him crazy here.
Tom hadn't bothered with crouching to kiss him this time; he just grabbed him in, holding him against his body. His hands, those brilliant, damnable, long fingered hands, weren't just holding him up but kneaded firmly his buttocks in time with the pillage.

It was Harry's turn to hold for dear life.
He wasn't even sure that he could survive this. The pleasure was getting beyond intense but Tom wasn't even letting him rub against his belly, he couldn't bear it.

But, exactly as the madness became a near fact and he started unravelling, with the sexual frustration approaching agony, one of Tom's slim long digits found its way inside.

Harry lost contact with reality.
When Harry became aware again of his environment his feet were thankfully touching down, the little good it did to him, and Tom was still holding him against his chest muttering:

"Mine, Gods, mine!"
At any other circumstances this would have been really comforting (even arousing) to him, unfortunately the only thing that Harry could think about right now (and panic) was that this wasn't guesswork anymore: Tom really intended to fuck him tonight.
His partner though wasn't much for emotional moments, if he couldn't underplay them or excuse it for sleepiness, (well him too) and he shoved him unceremoniously aside (although gentle) and reheated the water for them to clean up.
That being done he kicked away his soaked trousers and pants and offered his hand with a smirk.

"Coming to bed?"
Harry froze, his panic surging up even more. He had no idea what to do regarding this as, if he indeed followed him to their bed, he had no doubt how it was going to end, even if he woke up again alone in the morning.
While the idea, of never having to hurt Tom no matter what, was as wildly attractive and relieving as when he allowed this encounter part of Harry couldn't stand it. It wasn't just the 'going all the way' jitters that upset his stomach but the fact that he didn't really want to use Tom, even for this.
It was idiotic and gryffindorish of him but he didn't want to bed Tom with false pretences, even if was for their own good. If that was going to be their first (and probably last) time then Harry wanted to have something honest and true to remember, not to coerce Tom into a powerful ritual he had no way to fight.

And being unaware of it counted very much as giving no consent at Harry's book.
He had lost Tom by getting behind his back; he didn't want to repeat it, even if this time that was the mistake.
Taking a fortifying breath he regarded Tom.

"Wait." he was thankful it came out calm.
Tom tilted his head and examined him.

"What's wrong? You are more anxious than you were letting on."
This time Harry didn't allow himself any outward sign.

"If we are going to bed then you need to know something first."
Tom took him seriously, not that he was the type to joke at such matters.

"Tell me."
Harry didn't gulp.

"If we go all the way tonight, or any other night, I'm going to use it on a ritual…"
Tom didn't even let him fully explain; he had them dry with a gesture and grabbed him, leading him forcefully back to the room and all but throwing him to the bed.

"Speak."
Harry was beyond unimpressed with Tom playing the nude drilling sergeant, almost right in from of his face too. Jerk!

"Hey, let me put something on me first, you better do it too for that matter."
Tom tsked.

"What are you a wizard for nothing?" he raised the room's temperature and banished Harry's clothes, even his trunk.
Harry tried to get up; Tom didn't let him and, casting a shield, got his called wand to fall down a metre away.

"Where did you take them? Bring them back." the last part an order.
The jerk in question just smirked.

"Darling relax, they are with Leonard's recovered artefacts. I will give them back after we'll finish this."
Harry was too emotionally tense to get angry with such a childish act; he sighed and just sent his wand back to the desk.

"It's going to be a long talk."
Tom looked faintly alarmed with his easy compliance but still smug.

"I don't mind, you are surprisingly more open when nude and there is little chance that you'll try to escape the talk starkers." another smirk, even more conceited than the previous one.

"But if the view is getting too distracting, I can get dressed myself."
Harry didn't grace this even with looking upset and his instant reply:

"Smug bastard!" was beyond heartfelt.
He got a flash of anger for his profanity but Tom didn't bother to correct him, knowing that it could sidetrack things even more. It looked like his patience was waning.

"Tell me about the ritual and how it concern us?" definitely waning.
Harry steeled himself, the moment of truth.

"Do you recall what professor Merrythought had told us about Nimue? Well she was honest, there is indeed a ritual."
Tom's brow furrowed in puzzlement, if not actual disbelief.

"Really, I searched the entire restricted section out of curiosity and there wasn't even a source, never mind details about it." his answer was still entirely academic like the whole matter had absolutely nothing to do with them.
Harry found in himself a fond smile.

"Yeah, but the Hogwarts' library it's not the only one in the country, or even the most updated one, there is and the one in the Department of Mysteries."
Tom made an impatient gesture.

"I still don't see the reference to us regarding right now?" oh he was getting it, there was no chance he didn't, but he was playing with him, wanting to make him say it, the utter, utter, prat.
Harry grounded his teeth, it was time.

"One of the ritual's components is sex, actual sex between the participants, not just foreplay, but it doesn't need to happen immediately beforehand." he said it, it was done.
Tom stilled and his whole body stiffened as a board.

"Show me your notes."
Another hidden sigh and shoving Tom gently aside Harry got on his feet; this time his partner didn't fight him. Everything was going to be over soon.

Thankfully Tom hadn't banished his satchel too; it would have been very awkward to bring it back at this point. He opened the book at the desk.

"Here."
"They allow you to borrow books from the Department of Mysteries?" Tom sounded both incredulous and furious by this, as he approached.

"What kind of snare has this man for you?" he started reading.
Harry couldn't help a bitter laugh. He couldn't believe that Tom got to think that right now.

"It was in the historical section, obviously they consider it harmless, and you better hope that the Chief's favour will remain, I really need it." the last part was openly snippy but it got no instant reaction.
He would have preferred to be on the other side of the room, not standing next to Tom, at that moment. But his pride didn't let him move an inch. He was going to face his second, even more humiliating, rejection for the day with his head held high, at least until Tom was out the door, it wasn't going to take too long anyway.
Well, that or he could end moved enough to stay tonight, but Harry wasn't holding any breath. He wondered again why he chose to speak instead of letting things progress their natural way but he knew that if it really came to this he preferred to face Tom in the field of battle than coerce him in any way against his will.
Still even that didn't mean that he had to kill him, there was still the slim chance that everything they had done together was already sufficient for the ritual's terms and even if it wasn't he was finally educated enough in Dark Arts to attempt petrifying Tom by himself, without a basilisk's gaze, nothing was yet set in stone.
There was hope yet.

Tom's pov
Tom was leaning his weigh on the book to hide his tremor, as he was still pretending read. He was breathing in and out very carefully needing to keep his reactions deep inside and even the link was kept closed at all costs.

He had been led into one emotional breakthrough already tonight and his cheeks still burned from that. His partner didn't need to know what else he had done him (and how stronger it was) quite yet.
Harry had really done it again!
He had been already halfway ready to just accept him back (not completely without resentment mind) on the mere grounds that he had suffered, (and loved him) which he really didn't want to try examine why he found it a sufficient cause, but his damnable half lion had surprised him once more.
He had already a faint idea the moment that Harry mentioned a ritual but his mind couldn't compute what it was proposed and he had made him tell him just to be sure he had understood. His indomitable partner hadn't, as he believed, given up to them but had bended himself in all the ways he could, without breaking, to find a compromise he could live with.
Never to hurt him but never really allowing him to turn into power mad either.
That by itself was unbelievable (he had to check the ritual to be sure that it genuine and not a trap) and yet it was only half of the equation that had left Tom speechless with emotions he couldn't even trace, never mind name, or deal with.
His crazy Gryffindor (for there was nothing even remotely Slytherin regarding this) had just found a solution against all odds. But instead of hiding it, to ensure it could have a chance to happen, (never mind that Tom had no intention to go that route tonight) Harry had handed that vital final trick right to him, together with the choice.
This wasn't an offered compromise or a hidden threat but the presentation of the entire pack of cards, neck and heart bare.
Tom would never have forgiven him of course, if he had acted on it, but it could hardly matter too if things were in that stage. The ritual worked fast, as he had read, he wouldn't have time for even a curse before succumbing to sleep right in Harry's embrace.
And he had given up that advantage?
So he was bewildered to the very least; there was nothing in Tom's outlying acquaintance with emotion (mostly through Harry) or his logic that could explain his partner's reasoning to this: He really gained nothing!
Not for a second chance with him, (as he still didn't know) or something he could even use as a returned favour, but merely on a very vague hope that he could go along with him, before sending him his way, and the even more dubious pleasure of a sexual act that he maybe wasn't yet ready for, or even particularly wanted.
All of it to let him know?!
It was really no wonder that he had brought him in such a state!
A deep inside breath trying to think…
Hadn't Harry understood that if he was in a barely different frame of mind he would have shredded him with a couple well placed words or even treat him like dirt even if he conceded?
He had, he still did...
Tom didn't need to turn and see Harry to read his tension. he know that he was standing ramrod straight, like if he was facing his execution, with his swollen, reddened, lips almost whitened into a single line.

Even his side of the closed link felt very alike a boiling cauldron.
…and yet he had chosen to do this with his eyes wide open and his sanity intact?
Of course he did!
Maybe he was expecting those two words to cauterize the separation hurt so that he could leave more or less emotionally intact?
But Tom knew that this way of thinking was a mistake too.

Harry had put too much effort to his research to be merely a gamble.
He chose to go this route driven by love, respect for him and trust. Because, deep down, Harry really trust him, still trusted him.

Even after everything, it wasn't a weakness to him.
He had chosen him above all others.

Harry's devotion may come with some specific parameters but inside said parameters it was all encompassing and absolute.
Because that was Harry!
Tom decided to trust Harry right back.

He knew perfectly well that his partner must have and another plan somewhere, he would never believe otherwise, but he simply choose to not care or ask.
It wasn't going to come to that anyway, the matter was finally closed.

It was time to take matters into his own hands.

If Tom was a man given into uncontrollable emotional outbursts, or even the last bit romantic, he would have kissed Harry to delirium over that realization, maybe even laid him over the desk to continue on from where they had left it. But his partner was currently emotionally closed off and would have taken it the wrong way without notice.

The infernal problem was either going to just lie there, as a martyr, or respond with the ferociousness of a man condemned. Neither was going to do, Tom was going to kill people in such a case.
He needed something subtler here.
He closed the heavy book with a bang, unfortunately not startling a reaction out of Harry; he doubted that anything could cause that right now though.

It was time for the games to begin.

"Why would you need so much Bones' favour, or even at all?"he intoned the word favour with distaste.
Harry, finally predictably, was incredulous.

"You ask me that now?" he took a deep breath centring himself.

"Instant employment for one, if you want to know, but it's really none of your business." his voice was quiet but held the stirrings of cold anger.
Tom wasn't pleased at all with this and kind of stunned.

Instant employment?

That meant that Harry intended to leave Hogwarts. Inconceivable!

Then again he should have expected that he would resume that ludicrous idea but at least, this time, he didn't have plans for something drastic.
"You have no need to leave the school, much less financial problems. I have a good nest egg saved up, enough for a flat and to keep us comfortably afloat for a few years." he expected to drew, even a tiny bit, Harry's curiosity or at least surprise.
Harry didn't even bat an eye.

"Good for you, but it has absolutely nothing to do with me." he grabbed his wand and recalled his things, turning to that direction.
Tom cut him on the way.

"Of curse it does, everything I have, or will ever have, is yours too." he meant it.
This time Harry scoffed.

"Yeah right, let me go now." he tried to sidestep him.
Tom blocked him again, and again, and again, while he carefully made no attacking move and he ignored the downright sarcasm, shoving down his unease.

Harry had put him above everything, he wouldn't drop him now.
Finally his partner lost his patience.

"Tom move, I had it with your game." his voice was carefully controlled and he held his want in a tight grip.
Tom didn't budge an inch, just opened his arms to remind he was unarmed.

"No game."
"Tom move." this time it came out a rough order and Harry's wand dug harshly against his neck.
Tom still didn't move, making not the slightest attempt to protect himself. He knew of course that he was currently taking a risk, that his partner could simply fire a stunner, (if not something far worse) as he wasn't in the habit to curse unarmed, but was counting on Harry to go for a punch as he could definitely calm him down after a brawl.
"Lower, to the chest, you know the place. Go for a reducto." he taunted.

(Somewhere inside he knew that he deserved the incoming punches but Harry wasn't going to hear it from him.)
The mad glint in his partner's eyes and the slowly lowering wand made him wonder if he misjudged and Harry was indeed going to kill him but the hissy word eased his soul.

"Bastard." Tom know then that he had won, it was going to take a while and it wasn't yet certain, but the first dam had already fall.
He moved closer, finally almost touching him.

"Don't be crass, sweetheart, it really doesn't fit you," he answered in the same language,

"and of course it's my business. Everything you do, or happening to you, your every breath, it's my own very…personal…business." he started tracing the line from the hollow of Harry's neck to the start of his treasure trail, going back and forth with each word.
Harry seized his hand, crushing it against his chest.

"Tom!" it didn't sound particularly angry.
He saw the green irises darken with desire, felt the wand lower even more and prepared, while he outwardly revelled to the other's touch, closing his eyes.

It was way too soon for surrender.
He surprised Harry by using the mark to relax his fingers at the last possible moment, and levitating the wand away. But he barely avoided his partner's punch, and they were again circling each other like predators.
Harry glared daggers finally dropping the act.

"Damn you."
Tom nearly laughed.

"What, you expected something different?" he taunted, dogging another punch, and another, not once returning them.

"Do you really want to make it a full out duel?" he finally asked.
Harry's eyes widened in surprise, for the changed pattern, but he didn't lose his footing. Nonetheless he hesitated.

"No, not really, it won't help much." he looked and sounded tired.

"But I'm really not your concern anymore, not after today, I'm just a horcrux remember?" he added stubbornly, but the mere fact that he reopened the talk was a concession by itself.
Tom wanted to point out that there wasn't anything more personal than a horcrux but he refrained. Harry still responded to him, emotional or otherwise, but it was such a sensitive point that it could really destroy the fragile truce.

Not that he was going to completely drop it.

"Really, then what's with the warm welcome I'd received?" he smirked.
Harry blushed scarlet and couldn't temporarily meet his eyes, but his voice was steady as he answered.

"You know the answer to this." he had the nerve to nod towards the book.
Tom's lips thinned, this was a strike he hadn't expected from his lover.

Still he managed to stay calm; this wasn't a game he intended to lose.

"Really darling, that's only?" he challenged in his most sweet-dangerous voice as he stepped forward.
Harry didn't heed the warning; he squared his shoulders and stayed in his place.

"Yeah, the offer is still open. You can have me tonight, sleep on it and decide tomorrow, or bugger off. That's about it." he sounded cold in the beginning but the certainty didn't last all the way to the end for all the profanity.
Tom grasped his chin forcing Harry to look up.

"You mean you touched and tasted me with such abandon due to only calculation in your mind?" he caressed his lips with his breath.

"Then why are you still trembling and your body burns to my simplest touch?" he was far from unaffected himself.
Something like indecision passed from Harry's eyes but it lasted less than a moment and he arched his body against Tom's.

"Yes, but I want you too, we want the same thing, let it go." the last part almost a plea.
It wasn't enough; it wasn't nowhere near close to enough.

Tom shoved Harry slightly back and smirked.

"Hardly the same, you know I'll never be content with a single night." he stroked Harry's cheek.
Harry's eyes fluttered closed and he leaned to the caress, just for a moment, but his expression was dead serious.

"Yes, but how long until then? Will it be tomorrow, the day after? How many days until you change your mind once again?"
Tom crossed his arms thoroughly unimpressed, if Harry expected a love confession he wasn't going to get it.

"Yes, that's about it, hormones!" he mocks him.

"That's the reason you clutched my hand, right above your heart a couple minutes ago, that's the reason I'm here." he didn't even need to add how little those hormones had affected them before, they both knew it.
Harry didn't even flinch, but regarded him candidly.

"You are right it's not about hormones, or arranging things.

But for whether the reason it's entirely my problem," he told him with dignity.
Like hell was Tom to accept that.

"Do you really think that I'll ever leave you after seeing this?" he indicated the book.
There was something like wonder then but it got shoved under disbelief very fast.

"Maybe you will hold until the next crisis."
Sometimes Harry's stubbornness got right to his nerves, Tom foregone his self promise for patience, and headed for the jugular.
He crushingly griped Harry's left hand, raising it exactly under his lover's eyes.

"Think again sweetheart, we are far from over. You are still wearing my ring and I yours. Just try to pull it out, not even in death its going to happen. You are mine and I'm yours."
The disbelief remained, Harry just shock his head.
Tom decided to gamble everything.

"Alright, you want us to go all the way tonight, we'll do it. Properly, with the bonding ceremony."
The silence was deafening.

Harry's pov
Harry was beyond shaken.

"Are you out of your bloody mind?" he nearly screamed, snatching his hand away.
Tom didn't even bother to hide his smirk.

"I can assure you I'm in perfect mental health."
Harry snorted.

"Now I believed you," he looked at him calculatingly,

"that, or you are again going for an emotional blackmail. Do you really think that I'd fall for nearly the same trick?"
Tom sent him a look.

"There is no trick, then or now; I have no intention to back off in this."
Harry examined him trying to guess the truth, his own face becoming dead serious.

"Honestly Tom, on how much of the bonding ritual are you a hundred percent sure about?"
Tom's answer was succinct.

"Three quartets of the rune array."
Harry didn't know if he was getting closer to hyperventilation or to laugh, he definitely didn't expect such an honest answer.

"Salazar! And you want me to believe that you really wish to go ahead with that now? Pull the other one."
Weirdly, Tom didn't look offended, this time he was gifted an actual smile.

"You asked me on what I'm sure about, not the things I can approximately estimate." a smug one.
Just like that Harry wanted to hit Tom again.

"I get it."
The smile wasn't dropt.

"My my Harry, isn't that just the way you do things, with a wind and a prayer?" it was mocking and not.
This, he really couldn't stand it any more and he tried to shove Tom away. His partner (the annoying prick) didn't move an inch.

(his hands lingered there anyway)
"I said I get it alright, I fucking get it, and I apologised too. I may be stupid regarding my safety, but I'm not going to risk you!" his voice rising again in his near panic.

He was a hypocrite, so be it.
The look on Tom's face was way too pleased, and for all of it seductive, to be healthy.

"Why my love, everything that is good enough for you it's the same for me. Anyway I believe that with your luck we have more than a decent chance for successful conclusion." his hands closed on Harry's shoulders, not crushing him against him, but still imprisoning him and forcing him to look up.
Harry was starting to really consider capitulating just to see how far Tom intended it to go, but the bastard was obstinate enough to really do it.

"Tom, stop torturing me!" he didn't utter the word please though.
It hardly mattered; Tom regarded him as if he had shouted it, head tilted to the side, eyes darkened, and a chilling smile pining him down.

"Really, sweetheart, torturing you?" his voice was melodic with amusement and one hand started stroking his arm.

"You, of all people, know me better to confuse a bit of teasing with actual torture." he had the nerve to playfully tug at his hair too.
Harry bit harshly his lips, to keep impassive. He wasn't going to admit it on Tom but he definitely disagreed.

To have exactly what he wanted to (the very thing he fought admitting of wanting) offered into a silver platter and for him to be forced to deny it, worse having it confirmed that it hadn't been offered at all in the first place…

That for him was almost worse than Cruciatus.
His voice was light to not show his hurt.

"So you admit it was just a tease?" he didn't move away for the same reason.
Tom sent him a strange look underneath his lashes, his lips curling just so.

"Oh, I meant it alright, but you made me a request and I just stated the terms to grand it."
Harry was frankly blindsided with that left turn and his mouth literally hung open.

"What the hell does that mean?" he spluttered, finally fighting to move away from the other's clutches.
Tom's hands steeled against his shoulders, keeping him there, and there was nothing even close to humour anymore to his face.
"It means that that I don't even understand why you insist for us to have full sex tonight and I'm done playing on that matter." a look, both smouldering and hard.

"I'm shouldering my half of the responsibility to this mess. I'm not going to let you destroy yourself, destroy us, just because you feel like being a martyr." a breath, deeper than the others.
"I'm not leaving.
Harry was speechless for a few moments and frankly shocked with the resolve to the other's intense eyes and the shared emotion.

Tom loved him and had truly forgiven him!

Not only did he mean it but he was leaving their link wide open on his part, something he never expected to have again, never mind to that extent.
His own hands closed around Tom's wrists and he straightened his body.

"I truly have no intention to hurt you if I can help it, so…"
Tom didn't let him finish, his hands moved from his shoulders to his arms with excruciating force, definitely leaving marks, and started shaking him.

"You aren't going to give up on everything, do you hear me?" he snarled.
Harry met his eyes again, dropping his own shields; he smiled,

"As I said I'm not going to risk you, if I can help it, so we are going to have the bonding at its rightful time." his hands caressed up Tom's arms, all the way to the biceps, and then he squeezed them in a warrior's gesture.

"If you aren't leaving, neither am I."
Tom returned it and drew him into a punishing kiss. Harry didn't mind, he had missed those too.

"I'm going to hurt you again," was murmured against his lips,

"to exasperate and distress you, boss you around, maybe even make you bleed, but I'm never ever going to leave you, or let you leave me again." each word a kiss.
"I know, I know." Harry murmured right back, between kisses, and clutching him against his chest with his entire strength.

Somewhere inside he knew that those words weren't exactly reassuring, but he hardly cared, he had Tom back, for real!
When they didn't have any more breath for kisses they rested (still sharing each other's breath) with their foreheads close together.

"I'm still going to punish you, you know..." Tom finally added, his voice laced with humour.
Harry rolled his eyes in amusement but other than that didn't move an inch.

"I know." he wondered if he had got stuck in that one word.
"…and I have some specific terms."
Harry tensed a bit but still didn't move.

"I expected as much."
Tom raised his head; this looked like a very serious matter.

"I won't have you thoughtlessly risking your very neck, again." definitely steel there.

"My followers are very much yours too, to keep you from trouble, so I'm going to see that matter myself. Whenever out of this house, or the school, you will remain in my presence; we'll deal together with anything happening. That until the bonding, to the very earliest."
Harry wanted to shout and complain that he wasn't a kid to need a minder, although he got Tom's point.
His partner didn't let him say a word thought by closing his lips with a finger.

"Think about it darling, do you really want us parted when I could be dealing with the pests getting you into trouble, like your Greek friend for example." he smiled.
Harry promptly bit his finger.

"Bastard!" a breath, "You didn't hurt him did you?"
He got a darkened stare and a very satisfied smile.

"Now you remembered to ask did you?" Tom sounded extremely pleased that he hadn't t even thought to ask him about his today activities before.

Harry shouldn't find hot that look, he really shouldn't.

"He is alive and far less hurt that he deserves."
Harry let out a relieved breath but he wasn't going to drop it.

"…and you will leave him alone from now own…" it wasn't really a question.
Tom smirked.

"Convince me." but before a blushing/fuming Harry could mention the oath, (which he felt fully restored between then,) his partner continued.

"The oath doesn't count; he is a self stated enemy."
Harry muttered an expletive, he didn't even know if it was directed towards Tom or Aggelakis, but he still wasn't going to leave things as they were.

"What did you do to him?" he insisted.
Tom rolled his eyes at his persistence.

"Worsened the condition to his liver and gave him a much exacerbated case of arthritis, nothing that can't be reversed to a point, if only he bothers going to St Mungo. Will you answer now?" he had the nerve to sound half exasperated half indulging.
Harry didn't miss the 'to a point' distinction nor had he forgotten Mr Manthos' aversion to hospitals, but for a declared enemy (and he had no real reason to doubt him on this) Tom had indeed been weirdly merciful.
In any case it wasn't something that he could deal with right now.

"Alright, we are going to kill each other in a couple days from the constant presence, but I agree."
Tom wasn't satisfied even now.

"Do I have your word?" he definitely didn't miss punches.
This time Harry didn't hide his frustration.

"Yes damnit, you have it, now tell me of the other terms."
He got another very satisfied look and Tom continued.

"It is only one truly, but vital. Do I have your word that you aren't going to create, perform, or get involved in any ritual that I don't know about and fully agree with?"
This time Harry exploded.

"You, you asking me this? You who used and messed up with rituals before I've even met you? Are you out of your mind?" he tried to compose himself.

"The first demand I understood, I have screwed up a few times, but this, no, it was the only one and its not like you never made any mistake by involving us with a ritual." the word horcrux was heavy without even getting spoken.
Tom sent him a look.

"It may be only one but I don't like your reckless attitude regarding it. I'm not going to lose you due to carelessness and neglect." his look was final.

"Nevertheless you have a point. Very well, you will also have full disclosure and veto power on every ritual I may get myself too. Additionally, you are allowed to have Granger check the safety parameters herself if it's so important to you that I don't know about it."
Harry felt his throat constructing to this, it was incredibly generous.

"Alright you have my word. Any chance that I could convince you to have Herm check yours too?" he only half joked.
Tom glared daggers.

"In your dreams, study more to be certain of your objections yourself." the tone was teasing the words not.
"Prat." Harry consented with a complain, although he inwardly resolved to change him his mind.
Tom smirked, reading his mind.

"Convince me to this too."
Harry allowed his partner to back-walk him towards their bed, but just before he found himself horizontal he couldn't help a small quip.

"I could do it, but do you really want me to think about other people during those moments, Tom?"
The other's eyes flashed dangerously.

Yup he was for fun times!

Tom's pov
Tom wasn't of course to accept such a thing, reacting instinctually to the challenge. He pounced, throwing Harry to the bed, and kissed him until he was squirming impatiently and pulling him desperately against him.

The easy thing would have been to just let go.
Tom had been hardly unaffected with Harry blatantly offering him himself, but his tastes rarely run to easy things and he had a number of scores to settle with his partner even if he counted only tonight.
So he didn't allow the indulgence, taking a hold of Harry's hands and keeping him motionless on the mattress, only then did he raised his head to look at him.

"Even if you actually attempted it do you really think it would have lasted for long?" but the question wasn't as rhetoric as he would have liked it.
Harry sent him an unrepentant grin.

"Maybe I wanted to test it for myself?" he didn't seem in the last bit troubled in the position he found himself though.
Tom decided to test him some more.

"Really?" he asked delicately, while he slowly shifted Harry's hands until they were above his head, holding them together.

"What do you think now?"
Both of them knew that he was asking something very different.
There was a moment's pause as Harry seemed to consider this and then he smiled and nodded his approval for Tom to take the lead.
But Tom wanted so much more from Harry to simply accept this.

He called his tie.
The moment was indefinably longer this time and wrung with tension. Harry's eyes had darkened considerably but his hesitation was far more pronounced than before, as he fought between fear, trust, and desire. But in the very end (although logically it didn't last all that long) the last two won and his lids fluttered close in surrender as he relaxed in his arms.
Tom was astonished with how much it meant for him that struggling surrender (oddly enough far more than if it was an easy thing) and he bound Harry's hands, together but separate by the cloth, with the utmost care. The knot wasn't an impossible one to loose, even without magic, as he didn't even secure it in the headboard. He preferred Harry's submission given completely freely, even the tying was merely a symbol.
Still, it was a breathtaking symbol and he allowed himself a couple moments to admire the contrast of Harry's skin to the black silk but no more than that, he had infinite more plans to fulfil than just looking.
He started simply for once, caressing the lengths of his arms, whatever he could from his torso, and his neck with his fingertips (his partner had stated a preference for gentle, no) and enjoying his lover's light shudders of desire. Harry had still been a little surprised with the pace but when he stroked his lips he responded by kissing his fingers.
Tom kissed him then, not in the usual passionate way that demanded everything and would have Harry writhing against him in bare moments, but with tender light touches, barely more than simple pecks, until his partner couldn't stand it anymore and tried to deepen the kiss himself.
That gave Tom no choice but to retry and shift at Harry's side, abandoning the full contact. It was in no way in his plans for Harry to take the lead anymore tonight, never mind intensifying things before he was ready for. His lover was going to take exactly what he would choose to give him, at the moment he choose to, nothing more.
There was no complain to this, just an inward breath, but Harry turned at his side to face him too, and that Tom allowed it. However Harry had learned his lesson this time and responded to the kiss in the same pace.
Tom rewarded that by moving to his jaw, behind his ear, and then to his offered neck, licking delicately, and even going lower, to the little nipples. Alternately switching between lips, tongue and fingertips and judging by the patterns in the other's breath and involuntary movement if he remembered correctly the sensitive places.

(too soon to use and get lost in the link)
He definitely did.
Finally, it was the time for him to do what he longed for ever since he saw Harry nude in the shower, to mark his body all over again. The three days apart had been more than enough for Harry's magic to heal everything he had left him and Tom found himself honestly bereft to see his lover without any sign of his possession.
In the return trip, he spiced things even more; at last starting to direct the encounter at exactly the way he wanted to. This time when he reached the tempting neck he didn't just greet it with a kiss but he sunk his teeth right to its base.
Harry's startled yelp wasn't one entirely of surprise and pain; it was one of pleasure too. Tom couldn't help a smile against his skin. He had been proved right, Harry had asked for gentleness, and even enjoyed it, but what could truly sent him to stratosphere was a mix of it and pain.
And it was his very own prerogative to choose when and how to give it.
Their eyes met once again, Harry looked flustered with arousal but shy too and Tom couldn't help but break the silence he had himself imposed.

"Liked that didn't you?" there was no help to his teasing smile either, even if he had wanted to hide it behind a mask, but at this moment he definitely didn't.
Harry's blush intensified even more but he still had enough of his wits about him to send him a coy look and tease right back.

"Maybe I did, maybe I didn't."
Tom couldn't resist that challenge either.

He wetted in his mouth his right thumb and index finger (more for show) and pinched sharply Harry's left nipple.
The responding howl was even more intense this time, for all that Harry tried to hold himself back, but he didn't ask him to stop anyway and Tom repeated it on the other bud.
This had an even stronger effect and Harry arched against him, offering his tiny treasures for more. He ended alternating between each small peak until they were stiff, red, and swollen (almost like small berries) and his lover was panting, writhing in his hands and clinging to him, all but rubbing against his thigh.
Tom himself wasn't in a much better condition; nearly lost to what he was causing and Harry's trust (nothing could be ever better than this, nothing!) and he drank greedily his lover's cries, whether they were from ecstasy or pain, his master plan all but forgotten.
He was a sadist after all; it was a matter of biological makeup for him to cause and enjoy pain. But this, Harry's freely offered surrender; there was nothing clinical or even genetic to it, it was an imperative.
He wanted, needed, to give him more of this, more of the kind of pain Harry could actually enjoy, to always give him something he could take pleasure too, no matter how far he was going to take things.

Maybe even teach/entice him into liking darker things, darker pleasures…
It was with that instinct, to drive Harry even higher before allowing him release that had Tom's hand moving for his other favourite sensitive place. He found it and couldn't help himself but caress the firm globes, (which made his partner arch against his hand even more) and then slapped them firmly like that first time.
"No."
Tom's head snapped back, like it was himself the one that had been slapped.

"What do you mean no?" he asked trying to clear his head, he had been too close to the finish line to be able to gain his wits back completely at once.
Harry was still tied but was regarding him sternly with bottomless, and yet so dilated that they were near black, eyes.

"I said no. I don't want you to do this, to spank me." he elaborated with a steely voice.

"Not tonight." he wetted his lips.
Tom, for all his irritation towards him, couldn't help a wisp of admiration for his partner's strength. Harry was literary aching for it, with his hardness as slick with precome as his own, but he had stopped him to test if he would keep his word and desist if asked.
There was really no question to the matter.
Tom took a deep breath, centring himself, and smiled dangerously.

"I will accept a rain check." he turned Harry again to his back; he had so many places he hadn't marked yet…
Frankly, he was slightly grateful for the timely interruption, he had been too close to orgasm for comfort and while he could have started again afterwards it would hardly have the same impact.
Harry smiled at him with renewed trust and sent him an inquiring look, licking slowly his lips.

"Thank you." cheeks burning with shame, he very deliberately stretched out his body, displaying his bound hands. The reward/offer was unmistakable.
Tom barely held back a moan.

This was beyond tempting, to lose himself again in that incredible heaven and in such a dominant stance too, but no, his psyche burned for something else even more, so it was time to proceed with his plan.
He buried his hands to Harry's hair and kissed him hungrily, giving him a hint of what he had asked for, until his lover was responding to his kisses with even more passion and abandonment than before.
"Ask me later, sweetheart." he told him when he had to breathe.
Harry looked startled with his decline but he again managed to quip back.

"Maybe there won't be a next time to this." his tone was easy enough but there was and a touch of doubt.
Tom raised a challenging eyebrow.

"Or maybe you'll like this so much that it won't even cross your mind." still some suspicion remained.
So he set himself to distract Harry from this with more nips and kisses, to his neck, arms and chest, easing a bit with his tongue the abused nubs, but his true aim was further down.
Harry had dared to play with fire this night, it was only natural that he should feel the sting even a little bit. Additionally he had made him wait, and even dared to test him. Who was he to make it easy in turn, or to deny him a further lesson in trust and surrender?
Another test to his determination came when he reached Harry's erection and he found himself surprisingly drawn to taste the adorning droplets and even the hardness itself.

He told himself that he wished only to devastate Harry as he had been devastated himself and he left it at that, but he could hardly follow through even for that.
He needed Harry fully present not incoherent, this was too important.
So he merely teased him with his hot breath until Harry was trembling, almost close to begging.
It was time.
His hand slipped stealthily against his lover's toned belly and he muttered softly a very specific cleaning spell.

Every sound and move stilled.
There was such increase to the already high tension that Tom was literally compelled to meet Harry's eyes, his partner regarded him steadily back but there was something deadly in the calmness.

"Changed your mind?" he asked simply.
The world froze.
In the span of seconds they shared that look Tom was assaulted with Harry's horror and betrayal and something that felt very much like intense regret. (his)
But this wasn't what it felt like.

His need was the exact opposite of separating from/hurting Harry.

(Actually it was a weakness that really bothered him.)
Still, he couldn't help but curse that demon inside him that pushed him to exhaustively test everything (especially things that mattered) until he broke them, as it was still a factor.

Hadn't he learned anything by his mistakes so far?
"Hardly. I have no intention to take you all the way tonight." he assured harshly, trying to halt the disaster that was unfolding.
It wasn't enough to make Harry believe him and he got a lifeless look and the full dose of his acidic tongue.

"What, you don't find me enticing enough for it?" his bound hands were displayed again, as a psychological weapon this time.

"Should I turn to my back instead?" the tone was completely dry but almost suggestive.
Tom snapped, in one moment he had been leaning against Harry's legs the next he was shaking him until his teeth rattled.

"You will never speak that way again, do you hear me?" no reaction. Still enraged he raised his hand to hit Harry but something in his eyes and stance stopped him, he sighed.

"Its way beneath you," he told him more gently. "You are no whore to sell your wares."
Harry had no reaction in any of this, the dead look remained. Tom had seen more life in the eyes of people he had killed than this and his partner's voice, when he finally spoke, was devoid of any emotions.

"What was your game then?" he made no move to get away from him but he was like a plank of wood, unyielding and inflexible.
Tom tried to calm himself, anger wasn't going to get any reaction, still he couldn't help a faint blush; there was a reason he attempted to go for it without asking.

"Nothing major just to play a bit, as I did before, you definitely didn't mind that." he smirked.
Harry wasn't placated at all. He got a tiny bit of colour to his face from this but his countenance remained grave.

"Right, you didn't discard us, just intended to play it 50/50, this is reassuring." his voice dripped with sarcasm and this time he tried to get away from him. Tom took full advantage of the two stones he had on him and didn't let him.

Still that reaction was better than apathy.
Tom was frankly relieved and a little peeved to finally understand the problem. It looked like his IQ dropped with the rouse of hormones there was no other way he had missed that.

"Let me guess, you checked Richardson's book, 'Traditional Handfastings and Bonds' right?" his voice was back to his normal haughty tone due to relief.
Harry still wasn't impressed.

"As far I remember it was you that pointed that danger to me." he shot back acidly.
And the mere fact that Harry wasn't satisfied with this but researched it himself was telling something very interesting, but Tom refrained from drawing attention to it, yet.

"Indeed, but I was wrong, I cross-referenced it with other books." the impending lecture cleared completely his head and he continued in a calmer mood.

"Unlike girls we don't have a hymen to risk damaging, even with fingers. So for a loss of anal virginity, physical and magical, the true clause and requirement is contact with seminal fluids."
Harry made a face at him.

"Now he tells me."
Tom cleared his throat, very uncomfortable.

"Actually I finished that research two days ago." he hated to admit that, for all the weakness it implied, but if it got him back to Harry's good graces it was worth it.
Harry relaxed a bit but it didn't last more than a moment.

"Even so, can you honestly tell me that you didn't start this as a final test, or that you wouldn't have done exactly the same to punish me if you choose to drop me?" his eyes cut Tom to the bone; it was a still considered possibility.

A heavy exhaled breath, holding all the weariness of the world.

"To be fair you did warn me."
Tom swore a blue streak inside.

The last thing he could ever wish for was for Harry to get tired/resigned of him, to stay put but closed off. He wanted him to play with him/against him and enjoy it, not just endure it.

But this time he had taken it too far and it had hurt deeper than he intended. The only way to really fix this was to confess and expose the deeper reason and weakness behind it.
To really keep Harry he had to reveal everything.
He met his eyes steadily.

"I won't deny that it played its part, or that I'm not capable to act in such a way, we both know better." indeed he still felt the thrill of causing Harry that much agony and rage, all because he didn't want to lose him, and it was intoxicating.

"But it wasn't the only reason, not even the primary one, that drove me to this." a fortifying breath as he drop his shields.

"I need to have you, even if it's only with my fingers."
Harry's eyes widened to this in true surprise.

"But you already have me." he answered simply, and it was the truth.
Tom had to close his eyes to such intensity and silently agree: no sexual act by itself could ever compare with the strength of their link, but…

"Sometimes, darling, even that it's not enough," he spoke softly, but with passion, trying to make Harry understand.

"It didn't really count before, it was just a thought. But ever since our first night I can't stand it." he confessed in parseltongue,

"That there are new available ways for me to posses you and I can't," he gripped his arms, hard.

"I can't have you entirely, until there is not a single drop left, for months to no end." he stoked Harry's cheeks and rested together their foreheads.
There wasn't a quip to this 'that he couldn't entirely posses him anyway' merely an intense examination.

"Alright then," Harry's voice was just as soft but strong,

"You can have me in any way you currently can."
Tom had to raise his head then and meet properly Harry's eyes. There was understanding there and a strong echo of returned desire, his partner was merely better at suppressing his needs. Still, it wasn't a carte blanche, or complete forgiveness. He was giving him one more chance to regain his trust, nothing else.
If he chose to misuse that, then there was nothing left of them to save.
He kissed Harry tenderly for this, with all the gratitude he couldn't really voice, and set to bring him back in the previous level of arousal.
It wasn't easy; Harry's body had started perking up again, merely by his confession, but he still remained somewhat tense and more guarded in his responses.
Tom hated that, (exactly because he knew it was his fault) and missed the previous wild response, but his manipulation of Harry's body and his murmured praises seemed to bring him back little by little. However all the tension seemed to return the moment his hands rested on Harry's thighs.
Enough was enough!

He had no wish to deal with a martyr.

"Harry?" a startled look, "I have no desire to take what you don't want to give, so what do you want?"
Harry's intense eyes scrutinized his face then his expression softened, he had passed.

"I want you." I trust you. It wasn't said but it was heard.
Tom couldn't contain a triumphant (and relieved) smile and Harry rolled his eyes, everything was again relatively normal.

There wasn't bad tension anymore, not even when he knelt and raised Harry's legs high and apart.
Still, he was surprised by the extent of his own desire.

Tom was used to want Harry, exactly because he was Harry. The idea of sex in general, or what he planned specifically, was too revolving to contemplate (male to female sex, while still disgusting, held the logical motive of procreation.)
But viewing those firm trim buttocks, while he held his lover's corded thighs, was far more exciting that he expected and he found himself pondering acts he had previously read about and discarded as repulsing.
Harry chose that moment to interrupt his consideration.

"Hey Tom, you plan to keep looking there for long?" he didn't sound anxious, only awkward, and his face was a very intense cherry red.
Tom sent him a sultry smile from between his thighs.

"Maybe I want to, it's a surprisingly hot sight." he endorsed this with a bite at Harry's inner thing.

"Maybe I can't decide what I want to do to you first." a lick to the inner knee.
His voice seemed to work on Harry at least as much as his actions and he continued on, articulating some of his fantasies.

"I can't settle if I want to take you as you are now, bound and with your legs wide open, completely to my mercy, or to open you up slowly as I lie besides you, so that I could drink your cries, or better yet to turn you face down and free your hands so that you will hold yourself open for me…" he had to stop for a moment as his own imagination took the better of him.

"MMMM maybe, I should keep the last one for over the desk."
"TOM!" Harry sounded chocked and his eager organ was really twitching and generously crying now.
Tom needed all his will power to not crouch and drink it up, instead he started rubbing soothingly his thighs, to calm both of them.

"Relax my love, my darling; I'm going to take good care of you, to give you everything you need." he could hardly recognise his own voice.
Harry seemed too far gone to continue voicing his demands but the way he arched his body against him didn't really need anything more.

Tom sucked his breath, the view of his lover was incredible: head thrown back, hands bound, his whole body and soul an offer. Everything he ever dreamed of and more.
It was finally time.
Tom's manhood ached up, fiercely, but he didn't dare to touch himself to ease things, everything was going to end at once in such a case. He concentrated instead on conjuring some lube (fragrant oil) not merely the tiny amount he had hastily called on the shower, but a quantity to allow him to really work.
(He avoided conjuring a pillow for fear of what it would do to him and his control to have Harry's opening at the same height with his cock)
Bowl conjured, (took barely a moment) he called out for his lover.

"Open your eyes love." he couldn't imagine doing that without Harry's eyes on him.
Harry's eyes snapped open by the endearment (for once used purely as such) but it took him a moment to focus on the shiny substance on his fingers. He blushed again, cherry red, and seemed to have difficulty at breathing but definitely didn't seem against it.
Tom took pity of him (too inpatient to draw things more) and started to play around. However there was a drawback by having Harry's full attention, his partner wasn't surprised like the first time and had unconsciously tightened up. It took more than a few circles around the tiny rosette until he managed to gain entry.
But Salazar! It was tighter than tight! He could hardly move his finger inside that velvety heat. That and Harry's expression as he stared fixedly at him nearly sent him off. Tom held back by the skim of his teeth and forcefully recalled the anatomy diagram he had memorised.
Everything became easier then, it didn't take him long at all to find Harry's prostate and rub firmly that small bump. He drank greedily his lover's bucking, cries, and pleasure until the fast but intense cresting. (way too soon for him to really sate himself though)
It hardly mattered, Tom couldn't help himself for all the fortifying (and biting on his lips until it drew blood) he attempted, he was way too involved. Harry's release hit him like a tidal wave triggering his own. There was nothing but Harry and the music of cosmos for a couple moments.
When he managed to focus back his sight Harry was blinking back at him with a sappy smile. (He refused to even think about spotting something of the same)

"Wow! That was something!"
Definitely still high to admit something like that out loud.

Tom sent him back a superior smile (definitely not sappy) and allowed a soft reply.
"Indeed."
Mind-blowing pleasure and elation aside (and dominance on something more precious than the universe) his plan had worked. Harry had enjoyed this as much as he did and could hardly deny him a repeat. Little by little (or lot by lot) he was going to get him used in such pleasures and when the time came his partner would hardly wait to take him inside.
One obstacle down!
More, it was one more step to upper his influence to Harry in comparison to other people's.
Then Harry's gaze sharpened and he leaned on his elbows.

"Did you just try to hold back, again?" the last word cutting.
Tom sent him a look.

"Yes, but it wasn't a punishment, I'm hardly finished with you." he nodded downwards, where their come had mixed on Harry's belly, and scooped a bit with his right hand, tasting it. Harry flushed.
He enjoyed that flush and Harry's panting lips (too far, but he promised himself to raid them afterwards)

Tom was nowhere near down for the count (the climax had just taken the edge off) and Harry was hardly flaccid, he decided to up his game...
So he flexed his fingers inside making Harry gasp and clamp tightly down.

(The velvety flesh had relaxed a bit with orgasm, allowing him to insert the second finger; with a bit of stretch it could easily take three) and he took it from where he had left it.
"Did you really though that I was going to stop there? No my Harry, I'm going to give you everything I have promised you so far and much, much more."
"Tom?!" it wasn't a protest.

Later, much, much later, Tom allowed himself to collapse and to crawl into Harry's arms, freeing his hands and gently rubbing the circulation back. (just in case) They shared a few lazy kisses but they were both too sleepy to give it the attention it deserved.
They could continue on the second fantasy after a few hours of rest, Tom had no intention to let it go. Still, his last fleeting thought before falling asleep was for poor gramps who never allowed himself such a link and so never knew what he had missed.
Tom was going to keep his immeasurable treasure and still gain everything.
- 15
- 16
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The Fate Changed Now What?