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if I had only known you	By : sailorsimon Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Tom Views: 23798 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all its characters do not belong to me. I make no money on this fic.

Chapter List
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Chapter 5 (Part 1): It hurts... (Part 2)

But now everything was different. Now, he knew he had to do...

... Or did he? Tom looked at his face once again in the mirror. He nodded and said to himself:

"You can do this. You're ready."

Tom's P.O.V.

I keep telling myself that and yet I'm not even sure if it's really the truth... Urgh, what the hell is wrong with me? Not too long ago I wanted to destroy that boy and now... I want to make things... better I guess? Merlin's beard, I don't even know just what it is I want! I'm not even sure what I can do or if it'll even make a bloody difference... but I know that... I want to make things right... somehow. Damn it! What am I saying again! Not only does that make no sense at all, but how would I even begging to do something like that? How can one fix a situation so freaking fucked in any way you look at it?

Then I look at myself again and I see that scar and I know... I just know that... really, the only thing I know for sure is that I need to do something about this whole mess which I'm solely responsible for. What I did was so wrong on so many levels: all the levels to be exact. I... raped that boy... I took a part of his soul... I destroyed a part of his life... one that he will never get back... unlike me... and that is not right. How could I have done that? After all, I know what it feels like. I can't even believe I was strong to rebuke those awful memories of... that night. Thank heavens I have or else... I would have never been able to go through with the ritual.

Then again, that's not the only reason I was able to do this... horrible act. I was able to do it to the boy because... because I did not regard him as my equal, back then. Back then, in that moment when I did it... I refused to see him as anything more than something beneath me. That's how I was able to it... that's how they were able to do it. That night, all those years ago, I can still remember so clearly how they... how they looked at me as though I was an inferior life-form. That's how they were able to do what they did to me and feel no remorse whatsoever. That's how they were able to just walk out after it all... just like I did.

Still, I have experienced this pain myself... they did this very same violence to me... and yet... it's like I couldn't stop from doing it to someone else. Why is it always the same pattern with me? Why do I always hurt people like people have hurt me? That' not okay. If anything, getting my life back allowed me to see that and I am grateful for that... I am grateful to him. How is it even possible that I feel like this towards him? Huh? What am I saying? I think the right question here is rather: How could I possibly feel otherwise?

I am joyous beyond anything I could have ever conceived, right now. No scheming to destroy anybody, no degrading of any muggle as ever made me felt this happy. It's exhilarating. And I want to stay this happy and... dare I say it... hopeful. And I can't do that if I know that the person responsible for that happiness is so... utterly destroyed. That's why I am so determined to find a way to fix it. And I will. I am Lord Voldemort after all. If someone can find a solution, it's me. I will make things better for him if it's the last thing I do. I have to... and not only because of what I did... but also for what he went through... just like I did.

I mean, as if the fact that I violated him wasn't bad enough I had to see those... visions of him... of them. Just the thought of those muggles sickens me. Not that muggles in general don't usually sicken me but... those three... they make me want to actually puke. Man! Those visions... or whatever they were... they had such a huge impact on me. One so big in fact, that at first I even refused to face it at all so... I did what do best: I closed my eyes and pretend I didn't see anything. Because admitting I saw something would have forced me to actually deal with it. And let's face it; running away from my feelings instead of challenging them has always been the only option for me. Because it's the easy way out. The way of the cowards.

But those visions were... not only so powerful that my entire being, even in the state of mind I was in at the time, had felt an immense blasting shock when I first received them. They were also so disturbing and heart-wrenching, that they had made me loose all of my rage and horrible desires in a matter of second. And trust me. That never, ever happens. Ever. When I'm in this type of all-out psychopathic state of mind... nothing, and I mean nothing... can ever make me stop... until my enemy is laying still... face down on the floor. I wonder how then... I was able to just walk calmly away from him and go perform the ritual... like nothing had happen, like I was not disturbed in the least.

Simple answer really... I refused, once again. I refused to believe what was obliviously the truth. I knew if I stopped to think about them, these visions would stop me from achieving my goal. And no matter how much I know and knew back then, how selfish and heartless that goal was... I just convinced myself that it was right because... after all, that is just what I am: a selfish, heartless and evil son of bitch.

A literal bitch... wait... why am I thinking about... her, right now? It's so stupid and irrelevant... like she is... like she always was. I will not let her get into my mind, especially at a time like this. I do not want to think about her. She is not worth the time I am loosing right now... because of her! Damn it! Why does she always have to ruin every single one of my thought process. Just stop it. Stop thinking about her and she'll go away... there you see? She's gone... for good.

So, anyway yeah... I just did as usual... I denied everything that could have contradicted my plans. I remember even imagining that Potter himself had implanted those visions in my mind to trick me into stopping and showing him pity and mercy... how stupid am I? That makes absolutely no senses at all. First of all, Potter is not nearly that smart and or powerful. Second, even if he had been, in the state of mind and body he was at the time, there is rationally, little to no chance at all that he could have been able to concentrate well enough to produce such realistic visions.

Third of all, even if Harry had indeed been the one who sent them, it is still absolutely irrelevant. Why? Because, even if I can't yet explain how I got those visions in the first place, I know that they are real. I just know it. Nothing, no magic in the world could create such flawless fake visions to perturb someone's mind. I should know. I am both an expert legiliment and occlument. I think I know a little something or two about creating visions inside people's head. I can differentiate the real from the illusions. Unlike most people, I know I can truly pride myself as being someone who can tell the difference between dreams and reality. What I saw was real. Real and horrible.

Seeing it made me sympathize with the boy like I never thought I possibly ever could. For the love of Merlin, those people brutalised him, degraded him and treated him like a blasted slave. They would have him do all the shores while they sat on their either huge or bony behinds. They made him feel like he was a freak and a mistake... and I know what that feels like. Still, the worst part was that, not only were those bastards completely okay with what they did, but they also had the nerve to act as though the boy should have been grateful that they even took him in to begin with. What rubbish! Potter would have been better off in an orphanage and that's coming from me! Even if Potter and I haven't suffered the exact same kind of abuse from muggles... the pain is the very same.

And thinking about it... only makes me realize how Potter and I are... the same. We are both beautiful young men with dark hair, flawless pale skin, killer bodies and a nice ass. Nobody really understands us. We both feel alone because of it. We are both great wizards and great thinker although I exceed him in both domains. I guess he makes up for that with is talent on a broomstick and sports in general, which both had never been strong points for me. We are both parselmouth, although I never really understood how it was possible that he was one too but, we both share a love and connection to snakes, I can tell.

We are both half-bloods coming from great Pure Blood families. We've both had disgraceful mothers. Both of us had our parents taken away from us when we were just infants. We went to the same struggles and the same despicable treatment from our adoptive families... and that's really where our path separates: he chose to forgive muggles and even became friends with them. He got past their wicked nature, while I chose to see them all for exactly what they all are... and treat them accordingly. Regardless, coming back to the point of interest: the visions themselves.

Even if Potter is indeed the one who sent them to me, he did it unwittingly. Plus, whatever unconscious feelings might have drove his magic to do it (if there were any at all to begin with, of course) were not only out of his control but totally justified too, as far as I'm concern. I know now that I can't blame the boy for any of the things he did or said to me tonight. One, because those visions showed me just how right he was to tell me I have ruined his life. Two, because under the circumstances he was in, the boy could not be hold responsible for his actions or words. Three, because he is still just an innocent child... or at least... he used to be... before I...

There they are again... those awful feelings... No! I just had an epiphany! I am not going to collapse again now. On the contrary! I am going to go make things right... and right now is the perfect moment! Come on. You can do this! ... But as I approach the door with a steady walk... uncertainty creeps over me and I found myself simply incapable of moving forward. I'm just stuck there like an idiot and can't seem to get my hand to even just grab that bloody doorknob. I'm so freaking scared and I don't even know why. I don't know what I'm supposed to do right now... were to I even begin? ... An apology? Yeah, because that worked so well last time I tried... Still, it remains the most logical choice... And I do feel sorry... so I guess that's what I'm going to do, even though I just know it's going to take much more than that... Man! Is doing the right thing always this hard?

I keep telling myself to just apologies until I finally get the guts to open the door... That's it, I'm doing it!

Third Person Narrator

However, when Tom walked out that door the sound he heard completely got him out of his thoughts. At first, he wasn't sure what that noise was but as he turned to look at the bed, the scene he was confronted with cleared any doubts out of mind: ... Harry... on the bed, sitting in foetal position... the blanket covering his private parts: he was crying. And in that moment... Tom really did know he had heart... for he had just felt it breaking. The young man approached the younger one slowly and silently. He spoke in a careful and calm voice full concern:

"P... Potter? Are you... ok... okay?"

Getting no answer, Tom delicately extended his hand to gently touch the boy's arm... but the second Harry felt the presence, he let out a loud cry of surprise and violently jumped away in fear. He looked at the older boy with water-filled eyes which reflected an intense mix of shock and terror. The little boy's voice was shaking.

"Don't hurt me... please!"

Tom was completely distraught by what he saw. Harry had never looked so vulnerable and broken. Despair was written all over his face and for once the Slytherin didn't enjoy it. He looked at the little twelve year old body and saw all the marks and bruise he had left on it. He felt so shameful, so horrible about himself in that moment. How could he have done such things to such an innocent body... he felt like he truly was a monster, like Potter was right about him, after all.

"Potter... I just wanted to..."

"Please don't do this... don't do it again! Not again!"

Tom quickly understood what the boy was talking about.

"Potter, I swear I..."

"Please! Don't do it again! ... It hurts... it hurts so... so much..."

Harry began sobbing again and returned in his earlier position; his thighs against his chest, his head on his knees and his arms around him. Tom was totally distressed and overwhelmed as he began to rapidly understand the full scale of what he had done to this poor boy. He tried reaching for him with his hand again but the second Harry saw it coming near him, he closed his eyes, turned his head to the side and his whole body stiffened. Realizing the little boy had though he was going to hit him, Tom quickly pulled his hand away from him.

He could not believe the boy had actually thought that the hand he had extended so gently was meant to hurt him... yet... Tom knew he couldn't blame the little guy for that. Potter had every right to be scared of him... he really was just every bit as horrible and monstrous as the boy had accused. Still... this is not what he had wanted... seeing Harry so defeated and ruined didn't bring him any kind of pleasure or satisfaction at all. In fact, nothing had ever made him feel so sick and disgusted in his life. He actually wanted to just hit himself right now for putting the little guy in such a miserable state.

In this instant, Tom just wanted to heal and comfort him. He did not want to see Harry crying anymore. That is all he knew for sure, in that moment. He wanted the boy to stop being so sad and overthrown. Though unwillingly, Harry had given him life and it had made Tom so blissful. He wanted to return the favour now. He wanted to make the boy happy in turn. Not only to thank him but because it felt right. Potter deserved to be happy. They both deserved to be happy after all they had suffered. So, Tom did the only thing that seemed appropriate in order to accomplish his wish. He approached his hand from the boy one last time... but this time... he grabbed him in his arms and held on tight to him.

Harry was so shocked that he became totally speechless. He just stood there bewildered; eyes wide open, stiff as a broom and not a word came out of his mouth as his enemy hugged him with strength yet tenderness. Tom carefully upped on the bed while keeping his hold of Harry. It felt good to have him in his arms. He felt like he could protect him from anything and he liked that feeling. He didn't care why at the moment, he just did. Tom then felt so many painful emotions that were threatening to get the better of him... and for the first in his life... he actually let them. He was done trying to rationalize or figure things out. Right now, he just wanted to feel and act upon his feelings. He wanted to accept them and as he sensed the tears forming in his eyes, for once he was ready to let them go. He was ready to release all of that pain, all the sadness and all the guilt. His legendary composure be damned!

"I'm sorry... Potter... I'm sorry... I'm sorry, I'm sorry... I'm so... so sorry!"

Harry was more in shock than ever before. He had a hard time believing such words were coming out of his nemesis' mouth of course, but what was really mind blowing to him was that he actually believed them. But he did. He had heard without a doubt, the sincerity in those words.

"Please... you have to believe me... I'm so sorry... please... Harry"

Harry's eyes widened again... it was the first time Tom had called him by his name. He didn't know why... but he liked it... his name somehow felt good coming from the older boy's lips. The way he had said it just... kind of... sounded so full of... care and ... something else the boy wasn't quite sure of. But, it made no sense to him. How could Tom have gone from so nasty and cruel to this? This none-faked sweetness and genuine gentleness was so real and the little guy just didn't understand where it all came from. Then, as Harry began to get lost in his thoughts he was stricken...

... Stricken by a huge flash of white light... then he saw it: Tom's past. He watched a younger version of him... about his age actually... in an orphanage. In the first vision, Harry saw little Tom being pushed around by four upper classmates when he had refused to apologize for accidentally bumping into one of them. Then, there were the beatings: the boy received them daily. However, Harry saw that Tom had quickly learn to land on his feet and throw a good punch or two back when the situation needed it, even if he was so young. It was quite impressive to see him go actually, such courage for such a young age.

Still, the fights were never easy and Tom was always outnumbered. And yet what was the most heart-breaking to watch in these scenes where not the physical abuse the boy received: it was the constant back talking in the hallways, the name calling, the rumours, the laughs behind his back... Merlin, Harry could not only see all those other orphans torturing little Tom, he could actually feel the boy's pain and his repressed tears. Harry was so surprised. He had never though anything would ever make him sympathize with his nemesis. However, what he saw didn't only make him empathize with Tom; it also made him admire the Slytherin's toughness and nerve.

Then, Harry was confronted with the most horrifying scene he had ever saw. It was in the dead of night; the rain was pouring outside and thunder was clapping. Tom was laying in his bed asleep in a room full of other sleeping children of the same age in their own bed. Suddenly, the door crept open and four older boys silently came in. They were other orphans of about fifteen and Harry recognized them as being the same ones who he had witnessed pushing Tom around in the first vision. They were all tall, dark and lean. They were all handsome. They were all looking incredibly cruel. And they were.

Harry watched the four of them approach Tom's bed silently. One of them, their leader judging by the looks of thing, the very same one that Tom had bumped into, took out a knife from his back pocket...
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if I had only known you