Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

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

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~Oil and Water~

A/N: The suggestion for this chapter came from my friend and co-author, applehat208, and I liked it a lot. It fits very well with what happens in this chapter, as you’ll soon find out. Even someone as ‘perfect’ as Tom portrays himself as can have major flaws. I particularly had fun writing this bit of the role play. Also, this still takes place in the second book, the Chamber of Secrets © J.K. Rowling.

The following morning he told Ron and Hermione about it. Well, not all of it, Harry had his pride. But enough for them both to turn red and look worried.

"I always expect Hermione to like a book like that, Harry. Are you sure you didn’t fall too hard off your broom?" Ron said after a particularly large gulp of pumpkin juice, to steady his nerves Harry guessed.

Hermione shook her head, aggravated. "Harry, please think about what you’re doing! This can’t be healthy; have you not been paying attention to history of magic? Why Pontius Rimshaw---" Harry stopped listening here.

Ron spoke again, "Hermione’s right Harry, if you keep this up you'll get paper cuts right on your----"

But they didn’t understand! They didn’t feel the same things Harry had been feeling. It was those same feelings that compelled Harry to keep the diary on him at all times, and to not listen to what they said any more. He had made up his mind last night, he loved Tom, memory or not.

He was reprimanded more than once that day for daydreaming.

Harry was still a little shy actually talking to Tom since then but took to whispering his thoughts to the dairy, rather than writing since this was one sided. There was Quidditch practice that day, and for the first time in his life, Harry was reluctant to go. The night before’s escapades made him clumsy and prone to drifting though, which made Wood go off on a tangent of ranting. Harry hadn’t been paying attention then either.

Tom was glad that Harry began to keep him seriously close and carried him around all the time, already feeling much better and knowing that he'd now be able to wander much further away from his memory without threat of being kicked out. If he kept this up, he could probably summon the Gryffindor into his memories and be able to have much longer visits as well as wander anywhere they wanted to. Indeed, sleeping in a bed next to the boy, even though he was only using him, was much more welcome than being stuck in a trunk or left on a desk.

When he listened to Hermione and Ron, his reach outside of the book expanding more, he wanted to scoff at them and tell them to mind their own business. He was growing rather irritated by those two. Who cares if the boy loves him, they should leave him be or just bugger off entirely out of Harry's life so that he'll keep Tom even that much closer.

And during the entire day it seemed like Potter just couldn't leave him alone. He seemed to have fallen hopelessly in love with the diary and just couldn't keep his mind off of it. Riddle was far from complaining, however, that just meant more attention from him. Those sweet little whispers and murmurs... Of course it was heard by Tom and he listened eagerly, wishing he could only whisper back. Who knows, perhaps he could within a day or two of this attention?

And, again, he awaited eagerly to see if the boy would come back that evening and speak with him again. He also needed to find a better memory or not waste so much time practicing potions like the last one. He needed to be closer and to really imbed himself within the boy's very heart and mind.

Finally that day Harry was free to do as he liked--Since Hermione had pretty much tackled him to the ground to make him do his work. This time, Harry simply got into bed to write Tom since sleeping on a desk was not very comfortable... Ever.

'I'm sorry I’m late today, I had to finish my homework today.' He wrote after getting comfortable in his bed. 'I had an idea today about what we can do! I thought that we should play Quidditch together, I told you I play for our team remember?" Harry continued, completely sure that this was very romantic. "I'm sure you’re good too, so it'll be really fun."

Shit.

Tom cursed lightly to himself as he was woken up by Harry asking him if they could play Quidditch together and just... Shit. He didn't realize the boy would request such a thing. He knew that Potter was on a Quidditch team and liked it, but he actually never thought that he'd have to deal with it or to try and bring out a memory to appease the boy's desire to ride on brooms together or near each other. Was this some kind of trick that the boy was using after what had happened to try and take it all at a pace, go slow, or like a date of some sort?

He paused momentarily before ink started to reveal itself on the page finally. "What a good idea," He started, though he was cringing some. "I'll summon a memory for us to play Quidditch in then right away." He knew he was going to regret this.

You see, Tom knew full and well he was actually terrible on a broom. Very much so. Brooms and him got along like him and mudbloods. The stupid little objects always disobeyed him and he was pretty sure those bloody things did everything they could possibly do to throw him off, impale him on something, or some other horrendous outcome. It's all happened to him and he hated doing anything around brooms during his years at Hogwarts.

Riddle knew that he needed to select a memory carefully. If he brought up one of the horrible experiences he has had on a broom, then it'd right away tell Harry that he was simply horrible on them or completely ruin their time together and more than likely Riddle's patience with a broom decreasing.

He searched his mind as hard as he could to find a memory of him being around an area where brooms were used, but he didn't get on them. And then he remembered the time where he walked down to the Quidditch greens to get away from another student who had been bothering him a lot at the castle that day. He didn't remember why, just that they were insufferable and needed to perhaps go drown themselves in the nearby lake or let the squid do it for them. Either way, they were being quite annoying and ran him out of the castle. The usual spots he would've gone to, under trees, benches, and so on, were more crowded than usual with it being such a nice day outside, which pissed him off. He had gone down to the greens instead and sat on the benches along the sidelines of the Quidditch arena for Hogwarts to read a few books. At the time, there wasn't anyone on the field and, about half an hour into the memory, one of the teams, he believed it was Ravenclaw, came out to practice and only a few students showed up to watch them, not bothering him.

So he recalled that memory, seeing as how it was the best one without the broom making him look like some comedic act or behaving like a toddler throwing a temper tantrum over a broom. He wanted to impress the other boy, to make him admire him more, and so on. He sincerely hoped he wouldn't lose his cool with the broom this time and it'd do its job and fly him like it's supposed to.

Tom, of course, arrived to the memory first, standing away from the lockers and such with the equipment, waiting on Harry to join him. And, to make sure the boy landed safe instead of falling through the bloody sky from that height, he concentrated even more to give him a good landing.

Filled with joy over the older boy's agreement Harry fled into the diary, leaving his body behind. He landed gently this time, and Harry knew exactly where he was this time. The Quidditch pitch was perfect, as was the weather, which pleased Harry greatly almost as much as the sight of Tom with him there.

"This is great!" Harry exclaimed not sensing, at all, the absolute loathing the other boy was giving off. "This is going to be wonderful. Let me see what kind of equipment we have and we can get started okay?" He gave Tom a hug before quickly moving to the equipment beside him.

It was a bit old by what Harry was used to and he was reminded of their age difference again. 'Tom's really about the same age as Hagrid... And Hagrid is---" He shook his head. No he doubted Tom would ever look like Hagrid did. He sorted through and found the best brooms and gloves for them both. "Okay, these are yours and these are mine." Harry said passing Tom the broomstick and riding gloves of his size.

Tom strained a smile, barely managing it for what he knew was to come, and hugged Harry back. What a wonderful day, all the more to be able to see Tom fall off his broom better! He could still remember the other students laughing at him, making up names about how bad he was on a broom. Hell, the jokes even got bad enough to insult his manhood. 'You know what they say about how men handle their brooms...' It was coming back to him and he hated it. Many students landed themselves in the infirmary with mysterious illnesses afterwards, and no one knew why except for Tom. And he wasn't telling.

Not wanting to follow Harry into the locker rooms or so much as be near one of those brooms, he waited, trying to take a breath and wishing upon anything he wouldn't look like a complete fool on the broom this time.

When the younger boy finally came out, he took the broomstick, holding it in between his arm and his side as he moved to slide on the gloves, thanking the Gryffindor for bringing him the equipment, even though he greatly disliked it. Already the broom was starting to misbehave with just being near Riddle, doing an odd sort of motion to where it was trying to spin like a lopsided top.

Oh he so much wanted to kill the broom already. Not once...Not ONCE could he have a time where the broom behaved and let him enjoy riding? Apparently not, and he wasn't even on the damn thing yet.

He hesitated as long as he could to get on the broom, wanting to find an excuse or something, anything, so that he wouldn't have to. He waited for Harry to finish up putting on his gear and getting into the air, trying to stall for time. Though, it was probably pointless...

Completely unaware of the rage oozing from the Slytherin, Harry came nearer noticing something. "Hey Tom, you don’t have this part of your gloves buckled right. If you keep them on like this, they won’t grip right. I'll fix it." He didn’t think that maybe Tom didn’t know much of anything about Quidditch, but was merely excited like himself.

Carefully, he readjusted his friend’s gloves. Harry blushed, but he was far too happy to be nervous right now. "Tell me if I put them on too tight okay? It shouldn’t hurt at all." He said glancing up as a prattled on. Harry wondered why Tom wasn’t on a Quidditch team himself, but was reminded that he was more studious than he himself was.

The Slytherin wasn't focusing on his gloves at all and neither did he know that they had to be buckled a certain way, having his attention on anything but the broom trying to smack him in the side every so often. He let Potter fix his gloves, looking up to the scar of his forehead for a few moments before looking back down to his face and smiling a little whenever their eyes caught. He was definitely still trying to charm and woo Harry more than he already had him but, who knew, maybe he'd agree to not play with these silly brooms and skip straight to more making out. Unfortunately, by the way Harry alone was talking about the sport and obviously excited more than hell to get Tom to join him.

When he was done he pulled his hands away to grip the broom still trying to smack him in his side, and lift a leg over it. "Thanks, they're on perfect." He put, not honestly caring if they really were on right or wrong.

He wanted to run away from this whole thing, perhaps say that he was starting to feel a little sick or something, but he hadn't gotten sick since he had actually been not bound to this book. The weather was perfect, no way out of that. Whipping out his wand and destroying each and every broom he touched would be too suspicious... So he just sighed internally and decided to get it over with, make a fool of himself, and move on. Perhaps he could even get sympathy from the other boy that could lead to other things~. That was his only positive thought in all of this. Of course, he wasn't taking off until Harry did first.

Positioning the broom between his legs, Harry kicked off from the ground and sped up into the air as easily as any bird. Clumsy on the ground Harry may be, but in the air he was a master. He laughed with delight as he came to a standstill high above; he turned to look at Tom... But he was still on the ground.

Slightly confused but still ignorant at all the signs Harry called out to him. "Come on, Tom! We can’t do anything with you still on the ground!" He laughed again and did a few loops, the broom wasn’t as fast and easy as the Nimbus 2000, but it would work.

Watching the happy Gryffindor take off into the air, Tom was amazed by his ability to fly. It was obvious he was the Gryffindor seeker for a reason and he made it look so easy.

Looking back down to his broom, he wondered why the bloody things never listened to him. It's not like he went out destroyed every broom he could get his hands on and they didn't have feelings or anything... So what was their grudge with him? He didn't mind having both feet planted firmly on the ground, however, he would've given a leg to be able to fly the way Harry could. It was just one more reminder to him that he wasn't perfect in this wizarding world that he wanted to be so much a part of, no matter how hard he tried to become a master or get acquainted with the brooms. There was no helping it.

When he heard the yell he glared hard at the broom, being reminded of the boys who taunted and flew around him, beckoning him to come up in the air with them. Oh, we won't laugh. Sure you won't. And then the next thing you know, the broom is trying to fly Riddle upside down and low to the ground as possible straight across the grounds. He learned that day that there was such a thing as grass rash and it hurt, just like the laughter that erupted for an entire month after that from a whole bunch of students.

Taking a breath, Tom gripped the broom in his hands and tried to take off; concentrating as hard as he possibly could on being in the air.

When he opened his eyes, the broom had not moved from its spot, keeping him rooted. He tried to think nice thoughts, perhaps buoyant enough to get him to fly, but that wasn't doing him any good.

"Go." He put, trying to keep the malice out of his voice as much as possible. But it didn't listen. "GO." He whispered just a bit more loudly, his teeth clenched together.

The broom did do something this time. It suddenly jerked and ran from 0 to 60 in seconds flat across the field. Riddle clinged on, especially as it felt like doing sudden spins along the ground, coming close to hitting his head on the grass.

He yelled 'NO!' at it, trying to get it to stop with as much concentration or body language he could get, only for it to suddenly decide to shoot straight up in the air. He was petrified as the thing climbed higher and higher before stopping and shaking violently. He held on for dear life, trying to shout at it to stop but it just wouldn't listen.

His mind was no longer on trying to look impressive in front of Harry, but now to escape this without being maimed. The brooms were violent as ever, however, they seemed to react more now. And he honestly wasn't quite sure if he could get seriously hurt from this or not, seeing as how he was just a materialized soul, but he wasn't risking it. And it honestly felt like real life to him, especially at this height and the wind hitting his face.

It was at this moment the broom suddenly froze up and dropped out of the air like a rock and, thanks to that 'beautiful day with a bright sun', Tom now had the sun in his eyes, unable to see exactly how long the fall was now to the ground, yelling and feeling his stomach fly up into his mouth.

He turned in the air, trying to get the broom underneath him for wherever he was going to fall. If he was going, he was taking this bastard broom with him. That move seems to have helped some, though, he still hit the ground. He just didn't hit it as hard and the broom took most of the damage. His side hurt from where he hit the broom after it landed, actually causing the broom to splinter and break in parts, however, the handle and the main shaft of the broom were still intact enough to have a last burst of energy.

It dragged him across the ground, a seemingly favorite of the brooms under his hand, before running right off the edge and into the little pit that circled the main yards for the Quidditch games. Unlike the ground, it wasn't covered in grass or dirt, but a nice solid stone. He hit it, hard. The broom completely shattered on the way down, hitting studs and posts on the way down and pelted Riddle with shards of wood after he landed on his leg on the bottom.

He was absolutely pissed at just how much this broom had done, knowing he should've let go earlier when it was dashing across the field, but it was too late now. And he was pretty sure he had broken some bones in his leg now too, thanks to this bloody pit that the makers of this stupid field felt the need to incorporate.

He tried to stand and only fell, cursing out loud. Grabbing a handful of the splinters of wood, he tossed them at one of the nearby walls which did help, only a little, to alleviate some of the amount of rage he held again for the objects.

Searching for his wand, he finally found it in his jacket, luckily not broken and in pieces like the broom was, and casted the best bone-mending spell he could think of, or at least something to tide himself over with. It was painful as he heard some cracks in his leg result from the spell, but when he tried to stand up again it at least allowed him that.

He searched for an exit out of the pit and back onto the field, his leg entirely numb now after the spell and obviously with a bitter look on his face as he mumbled curses under his breath. He was so very angry. Tom was very tempted just to walk into that nearby locker room and show those other brooms his anger. He needed to keep his wits and calm about him, however. The broom probably made him look like such an idiot and a fool but he really didn't need to completely disown himself and throw a temper tantrum over it.

Because of all the dicking around Harry had been doing with his broomstick, he didn’t notice exactly what had happened to Tom until it was too late do anything to help. He did pelt after him but the damage was already done. By the time Harry arrived, Tom was already up on his feet, and he was sure that if this had been more physical more damage would have been dealt.

He lept off the broom and ran flat footed to Tom, who he almost knocked over from grabbing onto so hard. "Are you okay?!" He cried then suddenly jumping back afraid of making things worse. He knew very little about healing spells, and would probably be just as good as Lockhart at it. YAY.

"I’m sorry! Ah---I should have been more careful, I picked a jinxed broom for you--!" Harry had no idea that it had been because of Tom himself and not the broom at all.

Riddle stumbled back and nearly fell over with Harry practically trying to knock him over with grabbing him, wanting so much to yell at the Gryffindor for such a stupid thing. But he bit his tongue so he wouldn't. It'd be pointless after all this time to make Potter mad at him or upset.

"Well, I wasn't... But I think my healing charm has made it better... My leg is numb." He put, still not being able to feel any of it. And when he heard the other boy's explanation, he figured that was a good excuse as any to use rather than the 'Oh, brooms just hate me, don't worry about it' thing. "It's alright..." He put, though it really wasn't, he still tried to keep his temper down and act more mature around Harry.

"Not your fault, Harry. Either way, it's over now. Would it be alright if I didn't ride one? I don't mean to spoil our time together or anything, but after that I'm not really looking forward to riding again immediately..."

He sighed in relief; Tom was okay. Though Tom said it was alright, he still felt like the guilty party.

Harry wished he knew how to make this date he had been planning better, it went so much better in his day dreams. He pouted a little but he didn’t want to make Tom do something that almost got him killed. "Well, there isn’t much point in it if I’m the only one playing. We can do something else instead."

He had spent all day feeling love sick; there wasn’t any point in not being with the person who caused it. "We can go see the lake or something..." Harry said becoming thoughtful; this had been the first time they had gone to the school grounds together. It was apparent that his closeness with the memory was paying off.

"I don’t mind, if it's with you." He didn’t notice the double entendre.

Tom looked to the boy, on the verge of obviously becoming upset over this and pouting. It was cute, needless to say, and he felt some of his anger ebbing away, instead being replaced with something that very much wanted to violate those little pouting lips. He stared at the lips and then back up to Harry's eyes, letting out another characteristic charming smile before taking one of the boy's hands.

"Alright, we'll go to the lake then. We should be able to wander much further from the memory with how close you've been keeping me." And, indeed, the further they walked away, fewer problems ensued.

He was able to recall the grounds as how they used to be, however, there were no other memories of people or animals in these parts because this wasn't the part of the memory he had originally been in. Everything was kind of silent and unmoving, aside from some of the trees rustling in the wind or small waves in the lake. If you dived into the lake, there would probably be no fish or squid, just to show how vacant it was. But that didn't unsettle Tom at all, who wanted only the boy next to himself only.

Glad that there had not been lasting damage, Harry agreed that they should go to the lake.

He was sad to see the Quidditch pitch disappearing, but he didn’t want their time together just to be for himself... And he doubted running on the ground trying to dodge bludgers and grab the snitch would be much fun. He did snicker a little to himself though thinking about it, and his mood lightened tremendously afterwards. Maybe it was the butterfly nets he had imagined that they would use.

However the eerily silent school ground was a bit creepy to Harry. He had never seen the place so deserted; it was a sign of his affection that he didn’t ask to turn back the further away from the original memory they got. When they reached the lake, Harry led the way to the spot that he, Ron, and Hermione liked best near one of the large trees at the side. The empty feeling that seemed to be in the air itself left him immediately, because of the wonderful view that was visible now.

"It's really tranquil today..." Harry said sitting down unused to the lake without the squid.

The Slytherin sat down next to Harry once they finally found a spot, gazing out to the lake and then back over to the younger boy. "Sorry if it's a bit creepy. We've wandered from the memory and I don't have any recollection here. But yes, it's peaceful at least." He smiled, glad to be off of his numb leg.

One of his hands snaked its way to rest on top of Harry's as he moved closer, trying to ease into the mood and to get the Gryffindor all nice and bashful. He was so naive and he really liked that. So much easier to take over and use.

When he felt the cold hand on his Harry blushed, suddenly very of what had occurred the day before when Tom began to touch him.

"I don’t m-mind if it's creepy..."He said after a long pause between them. Harry kept sneaking glances at him while he was sure Tom wasn’t looking; he never got tired of it.

'Though we’ve spent so much time together... Tom won’t really talk about himself much." He thought after one particularly long gaze. 'I guess he's had other boyfriends than me... Or girlfriends.... Whatever..." He fidgeted slightly, again being reminded of their age difference. "Do you not mind that I'm so much younger than you...?" He finally blurted out unable to contain his thoughts any longer.

Gazing back over to Harry, Tom paused for a few moments before smiling and letting out a little laugh. "Not at all. Unless it bothers you? I figured it'd bother you more if you actually really liked me, even though I'm trapped in a book..." He put, trying to seem like he was sad or alone. Which, he was quite a good actor with how much he had been putting up with other people for years.

"If there was ever a way I could figure out how to leave... I'd love to come and see how Hogwarts looks now... And be with you." He looked up to the empty sky, no birds anywhere and then back down again. "If I'm getting my powers back... Then maybe soon enough..." He put, thinking out loud.

Of course, he already knew exactly what he needed and knew that he could, definitely, get out. Summoning the Ginny girl back to possess him, at least for a bit, would probably work. But he didn't need to say that to Harry, he knew she'd come back on her own, looking for him.

"N-No! It doesn’t, not at all!" Harry replied flushed with emotion at the question. "I-I don’t care if you’re a book... Or a memory... Or a person...." He trailed off more than a little embarrassed at his outburst.

"I'm sure there’s a way to get you out, Tom! I won’t just leave you in here..." Harry said, his heart hurting at the other's lonely words. "I'll help you; I'll start looking for ways tomorrow. The sooner the better." He didn’t know what he was saying, or agreeing to by saying he would help. "Plus when you get out, you can finally meet everyone. Hermione, Ron, all of them. You'll really like them." Harry said smiling with every word, because how could it not be perfect? He loved Tom, who wouldn’t?

Of course that'd get Harry. It was easy to play off the card of being the victim and 'so lonely', and apparently it was even easier to get the poor Gryffindor snagged on that hook.

He looked back over to the boy, smiling. "Really? That'd be helpful. And of course I would if they're friends of yours. Well, this is certainly enlightening." He put, moving to lean back and lay on the grass now, looking up at the empty sky again. "But...For now, let's just relax." He put, hinting at the boy to join him in lying down.

Immensely pleased that Tom was cheered, Harry only struggled a few moments with the idea of lying beside him. He had little to no experience with these things, but he did get closer and when he lay down, rested his head on the other boys shoulder. Tom wasn’t soft, but he was much more comfortable than the ground to Harry's head---He smelled faintly like the potion Harry never found out the name of. The sky was a beautiful blue above, with only a few clouds to float by. Harry's face was on fire though from, his own idea of something daring, resting his head on Tom.

Riddle was glad that he got the boy to pipe down and lay next to him, putting up with the head on his shoulder as he looked to the sky. It was a bit of a waste of time to Tom, honestly, when he could've been doing much better things. But it was obvious that Potter was young and the process of worming his way into his heart and rooting there would take time.

His hand moved to the Gryffindor's, holding it as he leaned a little close to whisper about how one of the clouds looked like an owl... And another one, a squid, which he laughed a little about.

After a small bit, however, he wasn't looking at the clouds no more, but rather, the second year next to him. He just scanned his features and watched him, his eyes trailing up to the scar against his forehead. Shifting slightly, he moved to kiss that scar, brushing a few locks of hair out of his way. It was such an unusual mark and he honestly had no idea how he had gotten it. But it fascinated him. (*1)

Harry, who had never gotten much of physical affection of any kind, found the act of cuddling together like this the best thing since white bread. Though his face still burned, there weren’t the lurches in his stomach like the day before… This was a different kind of touching altogether. He was perfectly content with this, though when Tom whispered to him the lurches still happened.

Harry laughed at what he was told some of the clouds looked like, because some were overly extravagant for simple cloud shapes.

He became aware after a few moments, than Tom was no longer naming the clouds anymore but looking at him. The blush rose again to his cheeks, but Harry did not struggle when Tom kissed his forehead. Harry whimpered softly when it was done though--He had forgotten Tom didn’t know what made him so special. And Harry was glad of it, because it meant he was judged for his own personality than what his past was.

The elder boy decided to turn slightly more towards Harry, after he finished the little kiss to his scar, and smiled to him again. His face was pretty red and all of his reactions were quite cute, even if Tom knew he wished he'd rather be off, reading a book or something.

His skin had felt so warm against his lips, however, and he felt the need to go back in for more, leaning down to kiss Potter's lips in a sweet kiss. The burst of energy he always felt in his veins every time he did this was alone enough to make him want to kiss Harry all night long and touch that warm skin.

The terrified part of Harry wanted him to run the second Tom shifted towards him. The curious part wanted to stay, and the love sick part demanded to stay... And the Quidditch part of him was still pouting about the fact they weren’t playing. So he stayed in place, though he shut his eyes tightly.

The taste of the potion was on his lips again, now that Tom kissed him. The feeling that a thousand snakes were in his belly also came back, still... It wasn’t that he disliked it. Harry was glad... That someone like Tom paid him any attention at all, let alone loves him. The thought made him want to grab hold of Tom and never let go, which would have been very impractical.

Tom felt the reactions play through Harry's lips about the kiss and it seemed that having that potion helped ensure a more positive outcome dramatically. And on, Riddle played, with the other boy's lips against his for a bit of time before he pulled away, smiling. He wanted so badly to go in for more, to take advantage of it, but now, again, was frustratingly not the time. He had made sure to take stock of that love potion he had made the day before and re-materialize it with him every time he had come back to any memories and he'd apply some directly to his lips either before Harry entered or when he wasn't watching. It was really simple, honestly, to pull all of this together.

He was sure that soon enough, he'd be able to lure Potter in even closer than he was before and surely, there would be no escape or doubt in his mind that he wasn't meant to be with Tom. And he looked so forward to the moment when they could go past kissing and onto better things. In fact, he tried to introduce a little of it this time without scaring the boy but, instead, making him thirst for more next time. Gentle little touches to his hand, arm, and a small little brush of his fingertips along his side or waist... While they were kissing, he even gently touched down along the side of Harry's neck sensually before he ever pulled away. The power he was feeling in his being now was demanding that he continue, but he knew better than to overload the producer of this magnificent power. Just a little more time...

Just like the day before, after the first moment of the kiss all other worries and concerns slipped from Harry's mind like water through his hands. He forgot that he should worry about talking to Hagrid about the Chamber of Secrets, where said chamber was, and what was causing the other students to become petrified. It all seemed really insignificant now.

He shivered at the touches, every time it made him wonder where those hands were about to go they went away. Harry whimpered in surprise when he was touched; it was a strange mix of fear and curiosity that he felt each time it occurred.

When Tom pulled away, Harry didn’t want the kissing to stop... But he wasn’t sure how much time they had spent locked together like that. It was long enough that his lips felt a little but swollen from the act. "Uhm... Uhm..." Harry looked away after opening his eyes when the kiss broke---He was more than a little embarrassed.

Riddle peered down to those swollen little lips on the other boy from all of their kissing, and those burning cheeks, and he smiled to him. "You're so cute." He mumbled, not that he was trying to keep his voice down for only Harry anyways with no one literally around but themselves.

It looked like he was embarrassed about doing any of this with him though, so he had to question... "Do you really like being with me? Are you sure?" Again, he moved his hand up to cup a side of the seeker's face, feeling the heat emitting from his face easily. He definitely needed the boy he was trapping like this to be sure of his affections for him. And Tom was definitely a man not to complain about getting attention or being liked. This all had its own benefits of his need to be liked or known, which he was definitely using.

At Tom's words, Harry's heart skipped a beat; Tom thought he was cute. He could have died happily right then. Just as Harry was floating to happy shota lala land, he was snapped back by what Tom said to him next. "O-Of course I do! I love being with you all the time--!" He cried not wishing for his feelings to be in any doubt. "I’m sure...that I want to be with you..." Harry said softer this time holding the cold hand against his face with both hands, pressing into it.

It was true; it was odd for him to be in a relationship like this but Harry treasured it above all others. After a few seconds pause, he turned his mouth onto the hand that held him and pressed a few tentative kisses into it. They were childish and sweet, and such was Harry's love for Tom.

Riddle stared as those sweet little lips pressed warm kisses into his hand and he was both fascinated and... Well, he honestly wasn't quite sure. Either there was a spark of power in him or a flutter of something else, but he was betting it was more to do with the power and just how much he was finally worming his way into Harry's heart. The more sincere smile on his face that appeared on his lips wasn't intentional, but all the same it still happened.

He shifted closer, all the more to be near that radiating heat pouring from the Gryffindor, and leaned in close to nuzzle him and just be in that intimate little personal area that most wouldn't have the chance of being a part of. "I'm very relieved. I always have doubts but there's no way I can deny that any further, I'm glad. Harry, you're wonderful. It may have not been long but...I've fallen." That smile spread more and he felt the need to join their lips again, for a more passionate power that he craved and, inevitably, needed desperately.

Feeling the breath of the Slytherin against his skin made Harry pause and listen. His heart beat very fast and ached as Tom spoke to him so lovingly. He wanted to whoop and yell, and at the same time he felt like crying.

"M-Me too! I love you too, Tom! He said voice breaking slightly mid-sentence. Adoring the smile that was just for him and him alone. Who cared about anything anymore...? Harry thought he would do anything for more time together like this, forever like this. Together.

Still shy and hesitating, he leaned up and kissed Tom. Even though what Harry had felt of Tom was usually cold, his mouth was always warm and firm. He shivered a little from nerves as he did it, because even though the first kiss was long gone, it was the first time Harry had initiated one. Unsure of exactly what to do with his hands, he gently held Tom's shoulders which made him feel a little more sure.

Tom eased into the kiss smoothly, his lips moving back against Harry's like a slow, sensual dance they were sharing. He could feel the nerves shake off of the younger boy a bit, knowing he must've been nervous and timid about these things. But it was obvious his actions definitely carried hints of love that was held for no one but Tom and he eagerly relished in that idea of being so important to the Gryffindor.

He decided that it was about time he acted finally to move it just a notch higher, a hand settling on Harry's waist, the other still against his face, and he parted his lips to softly nip at that sweet bottom lip that had been pouting at him earlier from being denied the pleasure of riding together. But this was all so much better than being on silly brooms. Riddle's attack on Potter's lips started out slow, however, started to become bolder as he moved his tongue to make a daring attempt at breaking into Harry's innocent little mouth.

Pleased with the reaction he had gotten Harry allowed Tom to take the lead as usual. It was going normally until he felt where Tom's hand was going, which was much more direct than what he was used to. What was more surprising was how Tom had bitten him, even if it hadn’t hurt. It was very different compared to the now seemingly chaste kissing and touching he had the pleasure of knowing.

Harry had felt vague stirrings every time they touched and kissed it was true, but this was those feelings times ten. Though at first he had been a little reluctant to respond, the licking and biting that encouraged him to open his mouth finally won out over his hesitations. It was hard to keep track of his thoughts right now...

That was the break that the Slytherin had been looking for, slipping his tongue in between those swollen lips and finally being given access to the second chamber he had been dying to enter. He tasted so sweet, like bits of chocolate and hazelnut. Finding out that he had a sweet tooth himself for this, Tom delved more and deepened the kiss, relaxing Harry's lips to be parted further so that they could be physically closer and more open to this sensual contact. His hand just played along the Gryffindor's hips idly, not pressing further though his fingers twitched just slightly and earned to sneak underneath that fabric and touch the heated skin hidden from him. That skin needed to be his and he should be given every right to it; however, he kept those complaints in the back of his mind out of range while he was trying to woo Potter closer and closer.

Riddle's tongue kept quite busy, pushing and twirling around the other boy's soft muscle that was his tongue, trying to provoke him out of his timid shell and into the needy kiss.

There was nothing to compare with what was happening right now, these kisses were their own level. Harry was unsure of what exactly was going on in his mouth for a moment or so---But he liked it. It made him feel hot all over, not just on his face anymore. When he realized it was Tom's tongue, the heat increased and so did the strange feeling growing inside him. Harry moaned softly as he the new sensations hit him in odd places and the hands that touched him teasingly through and under the clothes he wore.

If he were more experienced Harry would have quickly realized that the way he was being kissed made it clear the way the other wanted him. But he wasn’t, so he just accepted it as another wonderful thing Tom taught him. He loved the sensation of Tom's tongue in his mouth and cautiously tried to reciprocate by mimicking, but Harry kept getting lost half way by what the other did to him.

Tom would've normally been more impatient with the slow pace of how they were going about all of this, though he obviously didn't interact with many people this way back when he actually walked the Earth outside of the book because he hated pretty much everyone, but he knew he needed to be cautious and courteous of Potter in order to get him to much more deeper and lusty levels. And it was obvious he would've probably been sent into shock or something if he rushed, seeing as how he was so naive and innocent.

Riddle was probably his first, he realized, which amused him and excited him more. He could claim that of Harry's and he'd never be able to take it back; forever shall he hold that one spot, no matter the bad things to come or how much this boy would regret his first love.

It compelled Riddle to keep up the passionate kiss, exploring the sweet cavern that welcomed him warmly now, entertaining him here and there by the little pink tongue that tried its best to dance along to his rhythm. But he was forced to break for air a bit here and there, as well as tone down the kissing since he wasn't planning on actually screwing the second year quite yet.

Luckily for Tom, he had the standard Hogwarts cloak that every student had and it was most handy for hiding an erection that he was starting to notice. Though, being much older and more experienced, even if he didn't interact with many people, he still knew how to handle it or at least attempt to will it away. He pulled from the kiss finally to softly pant for air and open his eyes to stare into the Gryffindor's emerald ones before letting a little smirk tug at the corners of his lips. "Did you like that?" He mumbled a bit huskily, his hand still idly playing with Harry's cloak along his waist, something to busy his hand with.

Harry would eagerly await the kissing to start back up every time Tom pulled away, becoming spoiled for what he was getting. He might have been inexperienced but he knew a good thing when he found it. He had not done well in keeping a train of thought during these new kisses, and when they broke apart for the final time it took time for him to become undazed. It was like he had been in the sun too long, or had been sleeping very hard.

Harry was slightly put out that they had to stop, for he himself really didn’t see the need to. He caught his breath for a moment blood rushing through his body like a flood. When Tom looked at him the shy awkwardness also came back to him like his breath and he quickly looked away.

"I... I... y... yes...." He mumbled after many stops and starts to his side. He couldn’t meet Tom's gaze because he was suddenly aware that what they had just done was not something he would soon be telling anyone very soon. Harry whimpered softly when his elder's hand brushed his waist while his cloak was toyed with.

Riddle felt satisfied in how dazed and lost he seemed to make the boy every time they were close like this, especially now and with him stumbling over his own words or what to say. If he hadn't detested people so much in general, he probably would've found this all much cuter than what he was forcing himself to say and act about. He definitely knew that deep down; he did find the Gryffindor cute and alluring. However, being able to use and control him had more perks than actually liking anyone would, ever, in Tom's eyes. He was cold but it was necessary for his own survival and for what he wanted, no, demanded out of life. And he'd have it without question or having to repeat himself.

On that note, also because of his need for just that taste of heat and the flourish of power in his veins once more, he leaned in for just a small and sweet tender kiss to wrap it all up. You couldn't go on a huge make-out session and then just end it on a sharp note. You had to ease it back down. He also pulled his hand up from the boy's side and up to his face, touching it again before smiling to him once more.

"Any time you want to do that again, we can. I love our kisses~." He mumbled, edging a little close yet again so that they could hug as well as the fact that Riddle wanted to savor that bundle of heat for just a bit longer against him.

If steam could shoot from a person’s ears from simply being embarrassed, it would have happened to Harry at that moment. He liked kissing but he doubted he could ever actually ask for such a thing, except maybe with some weird charade and double meaning language. "O...Okay...." He said quietly still avoiding direct eye contact with Tom.

"As much as I'd love to keep you here all night with me and sleep under the stars," He put, not quite liking saying such mushy things but feeling it necessary to, "I'm afraid I have to let you go sometimes. You can always come back later and I'll always be here. Unless we can figure out a way to get me out, then we don't have to be parted by a book...." He began to pull away, moving to sit up.

Harry didn’t exactly want to go back to his dormitory, but was slightly grateful so he could calm down a little bit. If this kept up much longer, surely his heart would give out from over exertion. "I'll start looking tomorrow to find ways to get you out---I won’t leave you in here." Harry said confidently, it would be one of the few times he would have to drag Hermione in the library rather than the other way around.

"However, you more than likely need to go rest in your world for now. Sweet dreams, Harry." At this he leaned down to kiss the seeker's forehead gently and also faded the boy back into his own realm. He needed a bit of space, even with his eager impulses for more. Besides, he knew he wasn't getting too much further tonight anyways. It was better to not just waste his time.

As he felt himself floating back to his own body, he realized that this was the first time Tom had been able to willingly push him away. 'He must be getting better thanks to my help...' Harry thought groggily, and by help it was really stealing his feelings but he didn’t know that…

Harry had to wash himself in a very cold bath that night to calm down.

A/N: Also, about Tom and the broom. For anyone who protests that he can in fact ride a broom- False. According to the official Lego Harry Potter video games- He can’t. Absolutely not. He’s more awful than Hermione and I can sit there and laugh at him all day long. I’m a big fan of those games, I own both years 1-4 and 5-7. Besides, no one is perfect. It’s more fun and human to believe that the ever charming and ‘perfect’ Tom Riddle can even have a major flaw like this that can get him ridiculed. Besides, when have you actually seen Voldemort fly a broom during the movies? None, that’s what, if you actually look. He’s flying by himself. (And now you all realize that he’s actually terrible at brooms and will laugh at him every chance you get to see him in a movie, flying in the air.)

Extras:

(*1): We are playing off of the fact that ‘this’ piece of Tom’s soul does not know about Harry. This soul was created when he was much younger, obviously still in school when he was questioning Slughorn about it and all. This version of Riddle was the one /before/ he attacked Harry. So it adds a bit of charm to the story, knowing that this hasn’t happened yet nor does he know he is responsible for that scar. But when will he find out that Harry is the one responsible for making Voldemort himself suffer and all of those details? How will he react? Will he ever find out? Well, keep reading~
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